Who'd You Rather? || H.S. [ONGOING]

Part Fifty-Four

As Harry and Tegan stood in his closet after they dried off from their impromptu bath, Tegan had a sinking feeling inside of her as she opened her suitcase. She was going to have to go home at some point.

"I don't have any clean clothes," she said, looking at her nearly empty luggage. Harry snickered to himself as he slipped on a pair of boxer briefs before sliding gray sweatpants up his legs.

"We can do laundry," he offered, gently kicking his full laundry hamper that housed both of their worn clothes.

"Gonna have to," she said, looking over at him as he looked back, his eyes watching hers for a moment before they dipped down her naked body.

"Wouldn't mind you walking around my house naked though," he told her with a mischievous smirk, causing her to scoff out a laugh.

"I wouldn't be able to get you out of the bedroom," she countered, causing him to laugh out loud.

"You're absolutely right," he said, grabbing her in his arms, tugging her to his body with his hands on her bare backside before he left a kiss on her lips.

"I know I'm right," she snickered.

"Can't help it. You're very sexy, Miss Griffin," he cooed against her lips.

"Back at ya," she said, digging her hands into the back of his sweatpants and boxers, gripping onto his butt as they leaned in to kiss again.

"You can wear whatever you'd like of mine, if it's absolutely necessary for you to clothe yourself," Harry told her, pressing his forehead against hers as he looked down at their naked chests sandwiched together.

"'If it's absolutely necessary,'" she mimicked his words with a facetious smile before kissing his lips.

"I don't see the point," he chuckled as she pulled her hands out of his pants and wriggled out of his grasp.

"Gonna get cold," she said, stepping up to his hanging clothes, looking through the t-shirts one-by-one.

"Gotta find the perfect one?" Harry teased from behind her.

"No. Just want to see all the shirts you have here. Every one holds a memory," she said, smirking back at him, causing him to chuckle.

"All your band t-shirts. You know, I really like your Gucci-is-life look you've got going on lately, but I also really, really miss your band shirts and skinny jeans," she said, tugging a Kiss t-shirt from their 1990 Hot in the Shade tour off its hanger.

"Is that right?" He asked, standing with his hands on his hips in his sweatpants, still shirtless.

"I do," she said, slipping the white t-shirt over her head before opening a drawer to pull out a pair of his boxer briefs, stepping into them quickly.

"With a worn pair of Chelsea boots," she said, smiling over at him and he smirked back at her.

"Does Gucci pay you to wear all their clothes?"

"No. They give me free clothes," he said with a snicker.

"It's a rough life you lead, Mr. Styles," she laughed, stepping toward him.

"You know... it is. But I've managed to get by," he quipped, wrapping his arms around her again.

"You're an inspiration," she joked, leaning in to kiss him before pressing her hands to his chest to take a step back.

"We've got laundry to do," she said, turning toward the hamper, tugging it out of its cubby hole underneath one of the closet shelves.

"Hold on," he said as she went to pick it up.