𝒾𝒻 𝒾 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 (𝓁.𝓈.)

twelve

*WARNING: The following chapter is very NSFW. Read at your own risk. You have been warned.*

11 o'clock can't come soon enough.

I've been rushing around my flat all day, cleaning things up, making everything look extra nice for Louis. Is it definitely overkill? Yes. Do I regret it? No.

I know he's already technically seen my flat before, but we were both drunk and absolutely not thinking straight, so it feels like I'm welcoming him into my space for the first time, even though that's not the case. I want everything to be perfect.

I take the pancake batter I made last night out of the fridge and turn on the stovetop under an oiled pan. Then I take a large spoon and start scooping the batter onto the pan's sizzling surface. And if the pancakes are just slightly more heart-shaped than is really necessary, nobody needs to know.

At exactly 10:53 (I know, I checked) I hear a knock on the door. I quickly take the last pancake off of the pan and turn off the heat, already having more than enough for both of us. Then I rush over to the front door and open it.

"Hi," Louis says, looking me up and down. I'm not-so-subtly checking him out, too, and I have to admit, he looks good. I mean, he always looks good, but the last time I saw him in person he was wearing a suit, and then practically nothing, so the whole jeans-and-a-T-shirt thing is new to me. His jeans are cuffed a good three inches above the top of his Vans. Seriously, how does anyone believe he's straight?

"Hi," I answer finally, fully aware that my voice is breathless and not caring one bit. Louis chuckles.

"May I come in, love?" he asks, and I do my best to ignore the way my heart flutters at hearing him call me "love." It's one thing to see it on a screen, and it's another to hear it in his perfect accent, and know I'm the one he's saying it to.

"Yes, of course," I reply, stepping aside so he can come in. He kicks off his shoes and takes a quick glance around my flat, but mostly his eyes are glued to me. He seems oddly fascinated by something on my chest, and when I look down to check it out I realize I've forgotten to take off my apron. It's light pink with lace around the edges and Kiss the Cook written in fancy cursive script. I internally groan.

"Um, sorry, I forgot to take this off-" I start to untie the knot at my waist, but Louis steps forward and takes my wrists gently in his hands, removing them from the bow. He leans closer and his eyelashes flutter. My heart skips a beat as he slowly, carefully presses his lips to mine.

When he pulls away, I raise my eyebrows in confusion. "What was that for?" I can't help asking.

Louis laughs. "You are the cook, correct?" he says, gesturing to my apron. I look down again and suddenly I get it.

"Oh," I reply, giggling. "Right. Yes."

Louis grins and places both hands on my waist, walking me backwards until my back is pushed against the kitchen counter.

"What are you doing?" I ask, and he smirks.

"I told you it's too early for lunch."

I roll my eyes. "The pancakes will get cold."

"Too bad," Louis says, leaning in to press his lips to my neck, kissing from my ear down my jaw to my Adam's apple and back up again. My breath hitches when he sucks lightly on the place right at the top of my jawline, under my ear.

It'll definitely leave a mark. But it's worth it.

"Louis."

He hums against my neck, and I feel the vibrations all the way down my throat.

"Louis," I say again, and this one comes out as more of a whimper. He smiles and pulls back from my neck and look me in the eyes.

"Yes, baby?" he replies, tilting his head as he waits for my answer. Except now I can't talk, because him calling me baby took my breath away.

"Just," I finally manage choke out. "Want you. Now."

Louis grins lopsidedly and pushes his thigh between my legs, the rough material of his jeans pressing against the semi I'm currently sporting, even through two layers of my own clothing.

"You'll have me, Hazza, don't worry," Louis assures me, but before I can answer, he pulls my head back by my curls and I moan at the feeling.

Louis takes the opportunity to kiss me, and he slides his tongue across my bottom lip, requesting entrance. I grant it to him easily and let him explore my mouth, wrestling his tongue for dominance but ultimately giving up.

"Fuck," Louis moans into my mouth when my hips jolt up involuntarily, my thigh rubbing against his bulge. "Hazza-"

"What?" I ask cheekily, pulling back and looking at his glazed-over eyes and dilated pupils. I draw a slow, teasing circle over his right hip. "What do you want, Lou?"

Louis looks like he's the one struggling to breathe now. Well, how's it feel?

"Just tell me what to do, Boo," I say, not really sure where the nickname came from, but no going back now. Besides, Louis seems too caught up in his own thoughts to notice. Or maybe he likes it.

Louis clears his throat. "Knees."

A slow smirk curls my lips. "Whatever you say." I sink down to my knees in front of him, watching as he swallows deliberately. I wink, knowing it'll do things to him. And I'm right.

"Get on with it, Haz," Louis complains impatiently, burying his hands deep in my curls. I laugh lowly and start undoing his jeans. He blows out a breath when I get the zipper down, and I push his pants down to his ankles. Louis kicks them the rest of the way off.

I press a teasing kiss to his bulge over his boxers, and Louis' grip in my hair tightens. "Stop fucking teasing me," he commands, and I'm not one to ignore a direct order. So I pull down his boxers and watch as his dick snaps up against his stomach.

I probably won't be able to fit all of him in my mouth, but I'll try.

Louis throws his head back when I wrap my lips around the tip, licking up his slit and relishing the sounds he's making. When I feel like he's had enough teasing I take as much as I can fit of him in my mouth, hollowing my cheeks.

"Fuck, Harry, don't"-Louis has to pause to catch his breath-"don't stop."

He emphasizes his point by yanking my hair at the roots, causing me to moan around his length. This alone makes him shudder, and I get the feeling he won't last very long.

Louis confirms my hunch by whispering, "I'm close," almost as if he's ashamed to admit it. I keep sucking, involving my tongue as much as possible, until Louis' hands fist tightly in my hair and then he finally lets go, shooting warm liquid down my throat.

I swallow it all, only wincing slightly at the unfamiliar taste, and stand shakily, wiping my mouth. Louis stares at me with blown eyes, still coming down from his high. He glances at my crotch and then back up to my face.

"Need a little help with that?" he asks teasingly, eyeing my still very prominent erection. I smirk and nod.

"If you would be so kind."

A/N: ...

Well, I know you wanted smut, so here you go. It's probably terrible, but whatever. I hope you still enjoyed it.

Thank you so much for reading, I love you all <3.

Always TPWK!

-K