larry smut

i knew right from the beginning that you would end up winning

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10821480

~✰~

It's Louis' favorite shirt.

Or, it was his favorite shirt, but now it's covered in coffee. The freshly pressed, impeccably white and baby blue stripped shirt that he chose to wear specifically because he's presenting at the board meeting is now marred by ugly brown splotches.

He exhales sharply, fully prepared to give a verbal beating to whoever was dumb enough to walk right into him, but when he looks up, his words die in his throat.

Louis doesn't care about his shirt anymore, all thoughts of today's meeting forgotten immediately when he's met with the sight of a very familiar face, the face of his favorite camboy to be exact, only inches away from his own. The boy's green Bambi eyes are blown wide, bubblegum pink lips open in a shocked little "o." His curly hair is framing his face and his cheeks are dusted with a faint blush, clearly embarrassed that he just spilt the entire contents of his travel mug on a complete stranger.

It's a moment before either of them speak.

"I'm so sorry!" The boy rushes out. Louis watches the way his lips move as he speaks.

Louis takes a deep breath. This isn't just any boy. This is CurlyBaby94 and Louis thinks his heart might just beat out of his chest. CurlyBaby94 is innocent enough of a username, but Louis knows better. He knows this boy currently standing before him is anything but innocent. Just last night he watched as this boy fucked himself with a sparkly purple vibrator while wearing a matching lavender coloured tiara. He came untouched, whining for his daddy, come shooting up his chest and painting the butterfly tattooed on his stomach.

And now he's speaking to Louis. Right. He's expecting an answer. Louis clears his throat.

"No worries, mate," Louis says, voice strained and far huskier than it should be this early on a Monday morning.

Harry bites his lip and Louis' eyes track the motion.

"I'm truly sorry," Harry says again. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's really no problem," Louis insists.

Harry quirks an eyebrow, looking pointedly down at Louis' torso. Louis follows his gaze.

"Okay, so it is a problem," Louis sighs, pinching the soaked fabric between his fingers and pulling it away from his chest. There is no way he can wear this to the meeting. "Shit!" Louis exclaims, rubbing a hand over his face. "I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. I don't have enough time to run back home." He spins on his heel, facing the direction he just came from and mentally calculating how quickly it would take him to get back home and to the office again. He's already missed the latest train. There's no way he can make it.

"Um," Louis hears from behind him. He turns back around to face Harry. "You could, um, wear my shirt?"

Louis stares at him.

"I know it's not really business attire," Harry rambles, fingers playing nervously with the hem of the proffered shirt, "but it is a bit nicer and if you threw a blazer over it, you could probably get away with it. We could switch, too. I'll give you my shirt and you give me yours so I can wash it for you. It's the least I could do."

Louis shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh forcing its way out of his throat.

"Look, that's very nice of you, but that's a stupid idea," Louis replies. The small smile on Harry's face flickers and Louis' heart lurches. "It's just, this is my nicest shirt, not to mention my favorite, and I'm not sure how I'll get it back if I give it to you."