"Harry bets Louis that Louis won't do the dishes in the sink by tomorrow morning."
"Louis bets Harry that Harry can't do a cartwheel in the lounge room."
•••
"Harry bets Louis that Louis wouldn't kiss Harry if Harry had asked."
•••
Louis walks up t...
The boys pet Beanie, having to take turns because one of their hands takes up his whole body.
"Hey, Lou, have you noticed that Bean's eyes are blue and green? Like, one of his eyes is green and the other is blue," Harry notices, lifting up the cat in front of Louis' face to show the older lad.
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Louis looks at him. "Oh, wow. That's so cute! Beanie's definitely one of our biggest supporters," he says, taking the kitten and kissing his tummy.
"Hey," Harry whines. "Why does the cat get all the kisses?" He pouts.
Louis smiles, putting the kitten down at the end of the bed. "Sorry," he says, leaning down so he can kiss Harry's stomach.
•••
The two end up falling asleep again. This time, when Louis wakes up, the green eyed boy whose lips are probably quite swollen from the morning song they'd had, isn't laying next to him.
He sits up, looking around the small room to try and find the boy. He's not in Louis' bedroom, where they'd slept last night, so the older lad gets up and throws on a jumper and a pair of fuzzy socks before walking into the hallway.
He walks into the kitchen to find Harry cooking them a breakfast. He stops in his tracks, his heart beating faster in his chest. It's not the fact that the younger boy is cooking that made him almost pass out, it's what he's wearing.
And well, he's wearing nothing.
Well, okay, he's not wearing nothing. He's just not wearing... much.
He's got an oversized jumper on, one that hangs off of his right shoulder as he cooks. But... as for the lower part of him, well...
Fuck.
He's wearing these black, all-lace panties that show a good portion of his milky-white arse. Louis can feel himself harden in his boxers, and he curses for never being able to control himself around this boy.
He walks over to where Harry is, his tongue poking out in concentration as he stirs the pancake mix, pouring out little bits onto the pan.
"Fuck, babe," Louis rasps out, staring at Harry's bum.
Harry turns around suprised, but then calms down when he sees it's just Louis. He smirks.
"Yes?" He asks innocently, as if he has no idea what he's doing to the poor boy in front of him.
"You - the panties, you're just - I... fuck," Louis stutters out, grabbing Harry and shoving him, gently of course, against the wall. Harry grunts, suprised, but soon smirks when he sees how wrecked Louis is already, just looking at him in some panties.
"Come on, Lou, you've seen me in panties before. How come you didn't do this then?" Harry asks, the smirk practically glued to his face.
Louis glares at him, fistfuls of Harry's sweater enclosed in his palms as he goes on his tip toes and mouths at his collarbones. Harry leans his head back against the wall, spluttering out hot breaths.
