Dainty ❀ Larry Stylinson

a m o r o u s .

Amorous; adjective; showing, feeling, or relating to sexual desire.

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          "Tell me want you want, Lou. I can't help you if I don't know what you want."

          The smirk on Harry's plump, pink lips suggest that his intentions for the rest of the evening plan to go as they've been all day and Louis doesn't think he could take another second of his teasing. His lips were red and wet from how much he'd been biting them and his eyelashes were clumped together with frustrated tears. His panties were damp with precum as Harry's thumb stroked the underside of his cock gently and slowly, his touch barely there.

          And Louis wanted to tell him, wanted to beg for Daddy's mouth and Daddy's fingers and, "Pretty please, Daddy? Wanna mess my panties for you," but Harry. Harry with his sinfully long fingers and sinfully long hair and sinfully dominant voice told Louis he had to be quiet. In the room over laid Zayn and Liam, doing who knows what (Probably watching one of the Avengers movies). All it took was an unusually loud noise for them to come rushing out of their bedroom and into the living room.

          In the living room, they'd find Louis in Harry's lap, wrapped in a fluffy white blanket with flushed cheeks and wet eyes. It didn't take an expert to notice the way Harry's hand disappeared under the blanket and the way Louis was letting out soft pants of hot breath to put two and two together.

          At least, that's what Harry told him to keep him quiet.

          They'd been enjoying a nice evening watching one of the recent Disney movies, Teddy, a bear stuffy, in Louis' lap, Louis in Harry's lap, and Harry on the couch. It was one rare night that Harry didn't have to work or hang out with Niall, Zayn and Liam decided to go to bed early, and Louis could slip into his headspace easily.

          He was sucking on his two fingers when he first felt the soft lips against the back of his neck. Harry had been doing this all night when he had the chance: Resting his hand dangerously low on Louis' back, pressing up against his ass when he reached into the cabinets, kissing him on places other then his lips. Whatever game he was playing at, Louis did not appreciate it one bit.

          And maybe if Louis shifts down and to the right a little more, he can get the perfect angle to begin to cant his hips up against Harry's hand. Two can play at this game and Louis decides he's the one that wants to win. And by win, he means cum. And by cums, he means cum, get cleaned, and cuddle. He would also deeply appreciate it if Harry restarted the movie.

          He grinds his hips up once, twice, three times before there's a hand wrapped around his hip and a frustrated whine falling from his open mouth. The fingers dig into his skin through the cotton of his onesie, one of Harry's fingers pressing the metal zipper into the soft skin of his tummy. He glances down at the wet spot on his pretty panties, Teddy laying face-down on the floor between Harry's feet ("He's too innocent for something this naughty," Louis whispered as he bent down to place the bear on the floor before letting Harry continue the assault on his neck).

          And Louis couldn't, just couldn't, process what happened next without a clear head. The way Harry sneaks his hand down into the front of his panties and when did the human touch begin to feel this gosh dang good? The contrast of Harry's rings and warm fingers against the burning flesh of his needy cock drove him crazy. And then Harry's hand is guiding his hips into a slow pace, rocking up and up andupandupand as his lips lead a slick trail to the base of Louis' flushed neck.