you're cold and I burn (on hold)

pressing against the fabric of his sweats.
Louis’ finger hooks into the waist b<strong>and</strong>, pulling it away from Harry’s hips before releasing <strong>and</strong>
snapping it back with a loud pop, “Dirty boy. You’re gonna miss the big house reveal,” He winks,
<strong>and</strong> Harry scowls.
His face is all too precious when it’s scrunched up in annoyance <strong>and</strong> Louis can’t help but smile at
the sour expression. Harry, recently, has never had an ounce of shame when he’s showing just
how much he wants to get with Louis.
Sometimes, it’s so hard to say no that Louis has to get up <strong>and</strong> physically walk out of the room.
Because when there is someone who looks like an angel running their fingers up <strong>and</strong> down your
stomach, inching closer to the b<strong>and</strong> of your pants, all while whispering, “please?” selfdetermination,
<strong>and</strong> control kind of flies out of the fucking window.
And occasionally Louis will taunt Harry right back. It tends to lead into a whole other world of
‘who can make who more horny without actually doing anything.’
“You can’t possibly hold off forever, I can see how much you’re wanting it.” Harry smirks,
readjusting uncomfortably as he walks over to the cabinet to pull down a bag of popcorn.
“You don’t know what I want, Styles.”
“If you’re not careful I’ll trick you into drawing me with nothing but your sweater on.”
“Titanic style?”
“Titanic style.” Harry nods, “And how could you possibly resist?”
Louis gives it a little bit of thought, realizing that if Harry really were laying on a couch dressed in
nothing but an article of his clothing he would lose all his mental capability to hold off any longer,
but he’s not going to let Harry know that.
“Just because you lack any self control when it comes to getting fucked, doesn’t mean that I don’t
when it comes to fucking you. I want to do it at just the right time.”
Harry’s body tenses, his smirk falling into a simply tortured smile, “You sound so hot when you
curse.”
“And I think I’m going to start growing grey hair waiting for you to start popping this popcorn.”
Louis picks up the unopened bag <strong>and</strong> throws it right at Harry, hitting him directly in the stomach.
“You can play temptress later, baby, we got a show to watch.”
“You don’t even like my renovation shows.”
“No, but I like you a little bit, so I don’t mind watching them with you. As long as I get to actually
pick out the movie tomorrow without you complaining about the lack of interior design
involved.”
“Isn’t it funny how you’re the one who loves to decorate the flat in all these pretty colors <strong>and</strong> have
the matching c<strong>and</strong>les <strong>and</strong> curtains but you can’t st<strong>and</strong> watching someone else do it? And then you
have me, whose content with a st<strong>and</strong>ard house, but I adore watching those shows.”
“You’re a watcher, I’m a do-er.” Louis shrugs, staring at the popcorn bag still laying on the
kitchen floor, Harry making no move to pick it up, so Louis does instead, tossing it in the
microwave.