Princess » l.s ✔️

The One With The Kitchen

Chapter Twenty Five: The One With The Kitchen

Warning: Smut ahead.

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"Okay, first of all--!" Louis chirped, giggling a little as he blew up onto his face so a little flour could fall off his nose, stepping away from the dirty counter and raising his powdered hands as if to show he surrendered.

He could hear Harry stifling a laugh, but clearly failing, clutching his stomach as he crouched down just a little to let out a loud chuckle.

"I am aware we can make anything, be creative," Louis started. "But I'm pretty sure you can't bake me, Harry." Louis wiped his floured face onto his rolled up sleeves, sneezing once or twice because of the powder that managed to get into his nostrils. Thanks to Harry.

"Aw, really?" Harry fake pouted, his index finger jamming into the bowl of flour and stirring it around teasingly. "Maybe you just need a bit more flour." He shot the boy in front of him a mischievous grin, him quickly getting it and backing away.

"Harold Edward Styles, you stop giving me that look and put down that handful of flour, right now." Louis ordered, taking cautious steps back.

He looked around the wrecked kitchen. They've barely been here for an hour, and the sink, the counter, even the walls, were a mess.

It was 10PM, and Harry wanted to make cookies, and for once, wanted Louis to help. (He never called the boy in when cooking because he could set something aflame just by looking at it)

It was all going great at first, ingredients set out, oven preheated, they were ready to go, and start.

That was until Louis playfully blew a little flour onto Harry, making him squeal.

They had good intentions, truly, but maybe that completely changed when Harry grabbed a chunk of flour and dumped it on Louis' head.

That was when the cookies were completely forgotten about, the couple starting to douse each other in the white powder, running around the kitchen like a bunch of two year olds.

"And why should I? When you so unapologetically did this," Harry gestured at his white hair that was once brown.

Louis gasped. "That's because you did it to me!" He accused, pointing at Harry and still stepping back. "It's gonna take me ages to get rid of all this. They'll think I'm smuggling drugs for months."

That caused Harry to roll his eyes. "Don't be dramatic, I didn't put that much." He never stopped approaching Louis, though, who was circling the counter slowly, ready for any sudden move.

"You grabbed a whole fist full!" Louis shook his head. "So, actually, you do need to stop-"

"Okay." Harry shrugged, stopping in his tracks and showing Louis his empty hands. "I'll stop, you baby." He chuckled.

Louis narrowed his eyes. "Show me your hands." Harry did. "Pockets." He did that too. "Hm," The boy hummed and cautiously stepped closer to where the bowls were, suspiciously.

"I've surrendered, Lou." Harry assured him, kissing his stained cheek with a smile. "You've won." He said.

Louis grinned and stuck his tongue out. "That's right. Never mess with Louis the Tommo-"

The lad couldn't even finish his sentence because he soon got a cheek full of flour, shutting him up quickly.

"Oops, turns out I've won." Harry kissed the boy's floured cheek again and chuckled loudly.