CUTE LARRY FANFIC
okay so i have no idea who this belongs to but it's a pretty fucking lit piece of work so please claim if yours i just wanted to share xx *** "i hate travelling," harry announces unceremoniously as he drops his bag at his feet. he kicks off his boots and leaves them by the door as well, making his way into the flat proper to collapse in a heap on the couch next to louis. "if i never have to see another airport it will be too soon." his brows are drawn together in a deep frown, his face pallid and the bags beneath his eyes nearly purple. louis almost expects him to cross his arms and start kicking his feet next, he looks that put out. if he didn't sympathize so much, he might have laughed. (as it is, he can't help smiling a little bit anyway, because harry is adorable when he's in a sulk.) "that's a bit unfortunate," he says, "seeing as we're going on a world tour in a month and a bit." harry scowls deeper. "you're not helping." "i didn't know i was meant to." "lewis," harry whines, "stop being a twat, i'm tired." he leans over and drops his head onto louis' shoulder, butting his head against his collarbone. louis laughs and reaches up to get an arm around him, burying his fingers in harry's hair and laughing louder when he immediately curls in closer. "you're so easy." harry just grunts in response. they sit like that for a few minutes with only the telly as background noise, louis' fingers scritching at harry's scalp as he slowly goes limp against him. just as harry's starting to nod off though, louis pulls back. "what're you doing?" harry groans. "you need a proper kip. c'mon, lets get you into bed." "no, i don't wanna move. let's just stay here." louis rolls his eyes at that. "if i let you sleep on the couch you'll just complain about your neck hurting you in the morning." "won't, promise. stay." "get up, harold." louis slips out from under harry and snickers when he falls over and bangs his ear against the arm of the couch. harry glares up at him. "you're terrible." he starts to curl up but louis rolls his eyes again (they might just fall out one of these days) and grabs an arm to haul him up. harry makes a noise of discontent but lets himself be dragged. by the time they get to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms harry's got both hands wrapped around louis' waist and his face tucked into his neck, his feet sluggishly sliding on the floor. once they cross the threshold harry lets go to face plant onto the bed instead, slithering like a snail to get to the center. louis just watches him as he flops around a bit before rolling onto his back, hair mussed up and eyes closed. "you're an idiot," he says, and he manages to keep most of the fondness out of his voice. harry peers up at him through one eye. "off," he says. "what?" "off," harry says again, wriggling his hips this time. "oh, for - i don't even know why you wear jeans on the plane anyway. it's not a fucking fashion show." he sighs long-sufferingly as he sits on the edge of the bed and starts to undo harry's fly. "i can't believe anyone actually thinks you're the mature one." harry kicks out at that, getting him in the shin just as louis tugs his jeans down his legs. when louis glares up at him he just beams innocently. "make me a tea, please." louis shoots him his most unimpressed look but harry isn't affected, going so far as to stick out his bottom lip in an actual pout. fucking hell. "you're such a shit," he huffs, but he gets up because styles always gets his way. "love you!" he hears harry call out behind him. when he gets back to the room, harry is curled up under the duvet, his clothes flung haphazardly on the floor. sitting up, harry reaches for his mug impatiently, humming his appreciation as he takes his first sip. louis watches harry as he finishes it all in almost one go then places the empty mug on the nightstand next to him before reaching for louis next. "come cuddle." "are you wearing pants?" "no." louis sighs. he crawls under the sheets anyway and harry immediately curls up to him, sticks a leg between louis' and lays his head on louis' chest. louis' arms wrap around his bare middle, one hand splayed against his back and the other resuming its earlier petting as he cards his fingers through harry's hair. "good trip though, yeah?" he says quietly. harry hums. "yeah, t'was nice. home now, though." he looks up then, chin on louis' sternum, and smiles widely when louis looks back at him. "yeah," louis says, returning the smile. it grows once harry leans up to kiss him quickly, a short peck on the lips, and then settles back down with his head on louis' chest. "sleep now," harry says. "goodnight, you caveman." harry drifts off quickly after that, the exhaustion from his day of travel catching up with him. louis lies awake for a while longer, basking in the familiar scent of harry's shampoo in his nose and the weight of him in his arms. *** the first thing louis registers upon waking is harry's breath against his skin, his nose brushing against the side of his neck, and also - "is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" "i don't have any pockets. but it is fully loaded." harry's voice is thick and scratchy from sleep, his vowels even longer than usual. "ugh,” he says, nose crinkling. “you're disgusting." harry giggles loud and bright, his shoulders shaking from it. "i'm serious, get off of me you pervert." "nope," harry says, popping the p. he starts humping against louis' thigh and louis yelps, shoving at him. "styles!" "uhn - yeah - louis!" harry moans out exaggeratedly. louis finally manages to throw him off and harry cackles at him from where he's landed on his back. louis makes a show of dusting himself off and curling his lip in disgust. "i feel violated." "heeyy," harry says with a pout. "i don't do that for just anyone, you know." "i should hope not." louis falls back against the pillows, throwing an arm over his eyes. "it's fucking early, why are you even awake? i thought you were tired." "i was. i am. just felt like fucking with you." "well, thanks for that. can we go back to sleep now?" "yeah, okay." harry rolls onto his side, back turned to louis. louis' eyes close and he's just starting to drift off again when - "louis. spoon me." "fuck's sake, harry," he grumbles, but he rolls around until he's tucked up behind harry, one leg pushed between his two. "mind m'bits," harry warns, voice going thick with sleep. "should be so lucky," louis says, curling a hand around harry's hip and pinching lightly at the skin there. harry bats at him ineffectively for a moment before giving up, both of them settling back into sleep. the last thing louis remembers thinking is that it's good to have him back (where he belongs).