Larry Stylinson Smut

catwalk, slick talk

"Good game tonight, Styles." Louis says, batting his lashes in the doorway as he enters the locker room. Harry can't help himself, reaching for Louis' arm and yanking him back (as if he felt resistance), pulling him against his chest.

"Yeah, what are you gonna give me for it?" Louis smirks, looking up at Harry with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Gave you the compliment, didn't I? Find someone who actually wants you."

Harry hums, looking down at Louis with that cocky smile that always gets him going. "'ve got him in my arms. Think he wants me to wreck him." Harry says, grinning.

Louis scoffs. "How very romantic." He says, rolling his eyes and trying to back up. Harry's grip on him tightens. "However, I think you're wrong."

Harry doesn't even feign curiosity. "Oh yeah?" He grins, looking at Louis cockily and Louis fights not to bend over and drop his panties right there and then. He's not going to make it that easy.

He bites his lip. "Yeah."

Harry considers it. "Well, if Louis Tomlinarse reconsiders it, let him know I'll be waiting. Just back there. Told me last time didn't like my tongue, might put it to good use." He says, catching the shell of Louis' ear between his teeth as he fits his hands on each cheek and squeezes, lifting Louis to his tiptoes with a gasp. And with that Harry's gone, disappeared in the last row of lockers and drowned out by cheers and claps on the back for yet another good game.

***

The locker room's near empty when Louis finishes shoving his clothes and shoes and cheer necessities into his bag. He'd curse the coach for making him so late to getting some sleep, but Louis would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy group pictures. In fact, he loved them, a bit cramped, sure, but he loved pictures no less, loved looking at his beautiful self. Mmm.

Louis' just about to slam his locker on the clothes that are threatening to fall out when he feels a pair of hands slide along his bum and wrap themselves around his waist, holding him tight to the chest. Louis gasps, watching as they clothes spill out of his locker. He hears Harry hum in his ear, nuzzling his head against Louis' and he rolls his eyes.

"Knew you'd wait." And, yeah, okay. That's the other reason Louis wouldn't curse his coach for holding him out so late. "Gonna eat you out, now. Want that?" He adds, nibbling behind his ear and trailing kisses down his neck.

Harry's hands begin travelling down Louis' thighs and back up again, tucking themselves under his skirt and tracing soft little lines on his cheeks with the pads of his fingers, sending shivers up Louis' spine as he tries to regain his breath.

"Just got held up is all." He says, ignoring the second part. Louis takes a deep breath, pressing his back against Harry's chest and reveling in the manly warmth.

"Oh yeah?" Harry says, digging his fingertips into the flesh and making Louis gasp. "Remind me to thank that coach of yours, then." Harry pulls away with a kiss to Louis' neck, holding his hips and getting on his knees behind Louis' bum, uncomfortable on the concrete floor but worth it.

He tosses the frills of the skirt up and eyes Louis' bum deliciously, a flash of lust passing over his eyes as his pupils blow. Louis' wearing a thong, a lace thong. He licks his lips, fitting his hands perfectly on each cheek and spreads them, nudging Louis forward as he tries to steady his breath. Louis gasps, hands falling flat on the lockers before him to keep himself from falling over.

"What for?" He asks breathlessly, dick pricking in its confinements. Harry begins placing kisses around the string of cloth, following the path down until he's licking a thick, unexpected stripe along Louis' hole. "Fuck."