I Bet You Won't • Larry

39. I Bet You Won't Make Me Love You

A/N:

switch around the words in the title a bit and you'll know what's gonna happen at the end of the chapter ;)

you'll figure it out, babes

•••

"Baby boy..." Louis mumbles, slowly running his fingers through Harry's hair.

"Mm," Harry mumbles, preening into Louis' small fingers, the nickname almost slipping past his thoughts.

Almost.

"Come on, sweetheart. We're in New York!" Louis groans, crawling on top of Harry and resting his head on his chest.

"But you're comfy. Never wanna leave," Harry responds, finally opening his eyes to look at the smiling boy on top of him.

"Don't worry. I'll hold your hand the entire time we're exploring the city," the older says, leaning down slowly in anticipation of Harry's bubblegum pink, soft lips.

"The whole time?" Harry smirks, leaning up so their lips are barely centimeters away.

"Whole time," Louis says and closes the distance between them, Harry laying back down and holding the older's hips.

They close their eyes, kissing each other like it was the first time. (Which was only a few days ago, anyways)

Louis' thin lips taste like mint, signifying that he'd already been up long enough to brush his teeth. His lips are perfect, thin and a little bit rough and meshing in perfectly with his own.

The kiss is perfect, no matter how short or long or sexual or sweet. Harry's plump, soft lips slot in perfectly with his own, just a hint of emotion showing through in the kiss.

"New York," Harry mumbles in awe once they've pulled away to catch their breath.

"New York," Louis responds, smiling like an idiot.

"Are we going to be that cheesy couple that takes pictures of ourselves holding hands the whole time?" The younger giggles, Louis pushing himself up and straddling his chest, hands tracing the sparrows right above his nipples.

Harry gasps at that, his breath catching in his throat as Louis' small hands splay across his chest, his pinkie finger just grazing his right nipple.

"Lou-" He chokes out.

"Hm? Well, to answer your question, and knowing you, I do in fact believe we'll be that couple. But I'm okay with that. We'll probably get some really cute pictures in, and I think that-" Louis rambles, cutting himself off when he sees that Harry's absolutely writhing underneath him, legs squirming behind him and hands tugging at his long hair.

"H-Harry? You alright there, babe?" Louis asks, concerned when he sees Harry's eyes squeezed shut, face contorted in–pleasure?

As a way of responding, Louis supposes, Harry lets out a long moan. It finally hits the older one to maybe look down, and he sees that both of his hands are resting against Harry's nipples.

And well, his hands aren't resting on them. He was subconsciously playing with Harry's nipples as he spoke, pinching them and rubbing the pads of his fingers over them and god, the boy probably wasn't even fucking listening because he was just so focused on Louis' hands.

"O-Oh," Louis starts, looking back up at Harry but not daring to move his hands. "I-I didn't realize, um, I didn't know I was-"

"Shut up, Louis. J-Just, keep going, please."

Louis swallows the lump in his throat, nodding quickly. "Yeah, yeah, okay."

He scoots down a bit so that Harry's other two nipples are exposed. He experiments with them, brushing his pointer finger over the upper one daftly.