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Fuck That Greasy Potato

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"What the fuck?" Louis' angry tone had Harry looking up from his phone, frowning, green eyes concerned as he looked at his husband.

"Babe? Everything alright?"

Louis wasn't paying attention, though. He was busy typing away on his own phone, jaw clenched. There was no way in hell he was going to let that greasy ass potato rile up his fans, especially after the awful week they'd all had to deal with. So he sent off his tweet, not thinking twice about what their management was going to say later, and tossed his phone onto the bedside table.

Even when Harry leaned over, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder, Louis remained tense, but at least he looked over. Angry blue eyes met concerned green and the older male sighed, leaning his head back against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling.

"What happened, Lou?" Harry asked and his voice was so low and gentle and normally that would be enough to make him relaxes but instead he just rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath. "Lou?"

"Shut the fuck up Harry and let me be mad, okay?" he snapped, knowing he would feel guilty about it later, but for now he just wanted to hit someone. Preferably Greasy (I mean Naughty...) Boy. Maybe even Zayn as well.

Harry was moving closer but Louis just kept staring at the ceiling until he felt gentle lips on his cheek, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with his husband. Lou could see that he was about to say something else so, with an almost animalistic growl, he surged forward, grabbing the taller man by the hair and tugging on it, lips attacking his neck without saying a word.

"L-Louis!" Harry groaned, surprised but submissive, hands coming to rest on the older man's hips before finding himself pinned to the bed, his big hands pinned above his head by a pair of much smaller hands.

"I thought I told you to shut up. Didn't I?" Louis leaned down as he spoke, his lips brushing against Harry's ear, causing him to whimper, his mouth hanging open but no actual words coming out and, well, Louis just wasn't having any of that, not when he asked a direction question, so he pressed his hips down, grinding painfully slow and rough, his own breath stuttering as Harry moaned beneath him. "I asked you a question. Answer me. Now."

"You told me to shut up," Harry finally managed to say, gulping, squirming in his husband's grasp but not trying to get away.

"Mmm good boy." Louis smirked, circling his hips slowly, jeans tight. He removed his grip on Harry's hands, pleased when he didn't try to touch him, and slid his hands down Harry's long, lean torso before gripping the edge of his shirt and pulling it up and off, shoving Harry roughly so that he fell back onto the bed once more, bouncing once.

Louis remained sitting up, straddling Harry's hips as he pulled off his own shirt, tossing it to the floor and leaning down, hands braced on the bed on either side of Harry's head, smirking for a moment, before forcibly pressing his lips to Harry's.

Both men groaned, Harry's hips arching up as Louis rolled his down. They continued like that, mostly because Louis knew that kissing and grinding drove Harry wild, so he closed his eyes, his tongue caressing his husband's mouth, their moans and Harry's soft noises muffled and mixed with the sound of passionate kisses.

Eventually, Harry started whimpering and Louis couldn't wait any longer. If he couldn't punch either Zayn or his new best friend in the face, at least he could fuck his husband into the mattress.

"Take your clothes off," he said as he pulled away from Harry and reached under the pillow for a bottle of lube, his tone demanding. It took Harry a moment to get himself together, lower lip pinched between his teeth as he fumbled with the button to his jeans. Impatient, Louis swatted his hands away, undoing the button and zipper and yanking the tight, black jeans off of his long legs. Harry shivered as the cool air his his flushed skin, inhaling sharply when Louis began pulling his briefs down with his teeth, and, Christ, if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen...

Satisfied when his husband was completely naked, Louis smirked, placing soft kisses across Harry's tattooed abdomen, hands grabbing Harry's thighs and spreading them, giving himself room to work. Not that he needed much. They were used to getting each other off in confined spaces. Like the bathrooms of tour busses and airplanes. And the back seats of cars. And closets. But right now they had a whole room, a whole bed, and Louis wanted his husband squirming and panting and begging to be fucked.

He sat up straight after placing one last kiss just below Harry's belly button, causing the skin to jump, and he glanced up to make sure this was what Harry wanted. Harry nodded wordlessly upon making eye contact and that's all the confirmation that Louis needed. He popped open the cap to the lube, drizzling it on his fingers, biting his own lip when Harry started to squirm already, without even being touched, his legs shifting apart just a little more, fingers already starting to grip onto the sheets. Louis waited a few seconds longer, just to tease the younger man, before lowering his fingers, barely giving a warning before shoving two of the lubed digits inside the tight heat. The noise Harry made was... intoxicating, as cliche as that sounded, but it was true. Louis' cock twitched, still confined to his jeans, so he quickly started scissoring his fingers, curling them but purposely missing Harry's spot, the spot that drove him wild with just the slightest touch. Harry had always been so sensitive. He'd once made him come just from whispering naughty things in his ear. Then again, they had still been teenagers back then. Back when they first got together.

Now, they were married and preparing to finally come out of the closet.

"Lou! Please!"

The frantic begging of the man beneath him had Louis smirking, pushing in a third finger, just to make sure Harry was stretched enough that he wouldn't get hurt. They hadn't had sex in about a week, too stressed and busy, and though Louis knew his little minx enjoyed pain, he didn't want to cause any permanent injuries. He would never forgive himself. So he worked his fingers in and out and only when he deemed Harry as being ready did he curl his fingers just right, putting painful yet pleasurable pressure onto Harry's prostate. The younger man let out a cry of Louis' name, hips bucking before grinding down on Louis' fingers, panting and trembling, his cock dripping precum on his stomach. Louis bent to lick the drops off of Harry's abdomen, fingers massaging that same spot, kissing his way up Harry's chest before letting his lips linger once more at his ear, whispering, "I'm going to absolutely wreck you."

That was all it took to send Harry over the edge. His back arched beautiful, hips jerking as his cock twitched, spurting thick ropes of come onto his stomach and chest as he cried out, eyes fluttering, legs trying to close around Louis' hand because he was still rubbing that same fucking spot, not giving Harry a second to come down or catch his breath. It kept him on edge, body trembling, toes curling, head tilted back and mouth open.

And then Louis suddenly stopped, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on his jeans, letting Harry have a minute to remember how to breathe as he undressed himself the rest of the way. He kept his eyes on Harry, a pleased look on his face. The boy was already ruined, body still shivering. Sweat caused his hair to stick to his forehead, fingers twitching where they were gripping the sheets. It was beautiful. Harry was beautiful. And Louis needed to be inside of him. Now.

So he lubed himself up, moaning quietly, removing his hand before he could get too carried away, and knee walked back over to Harry. He grabbed his legs, hooking them around his waist as he lined himself up, his lips parting as he finally, finally, pressed against Harry's rim, sinking in inch by inch. Despite the fingering, Harry was still tight, gasping and groaning, but nothing compared to the sound Harry made when Louis suddenly thrusted forward, slamming right into Harry's sensitive prostate, and Louis was sure that if Harry hadn't just come he would have done so right then and there. Harry's legs tightened around Louis, trying to pull him closer even though that wasn't physically possible, and Louis took that as a sign to start moving. And boy did he move...

There was a forming tightness in Louis abdomen as his hips bucked and rolled, trying to find the perfect angle, panting, one hand against the headboard and the other tangled in Harry's hair. He tugged with every other thrust, tightening his fingers until Harry's pleading words for more, more, more became indecipherable, replaced by a constant string of stuttered curses and loud moans. Louis himself was getting louder with every thrust, growling into Harry's ear, wanting Harry a complete mess by the time this was over.

"I want you to come just from my cock. Just like you did with my fingers. Can you do that for me? Hm?" he asked, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust that had the headboard banging against the wall and had Harry screaming fuck yes at the top of his lungs. Louis kept up with the power and speed of his thrusts, wanting Harry to come first, his cock rubbing up against his prostate with each movement. He was pretty sure there was going to be a dent in the wall from how hard the headboard was hitting it. "Come on, baby, come for me."

Harry came again, Louis pinning his twitching hips down with his own, keeping the angle just right as he rocked his hips, each and every movement applying pressure, and when Harry clenched around him, sobbing from near overstimulation, Louis came as well, biting down on Harry's neck to muffle his own noises, hips stuttering, feeling almost dizzy from the intensity of his first orgasm in fucking three days. He felt as if he would never stop coming, the liquid beginning to drop out of his husband's ass because Louis couldn't stop moving, his hips bucking and grinding through his orgasm. Only when Harry started whimpering breathlessly did Louis find himself able to go still, panting into his husband's neck and letting his body collapse on top of him, not at all bothered by the sticky mess between them. He kissed the bruise forming on Harry's neck before nuzzling against his chest, all of his previous anger gone, his body pliant and relaxed, and a smile finally curved his lips up as Harry's arms wrapped around him, holding him close.

"I love you, Harry," he murmured, eyes closed.

"I love you more, Lou." Louis snorted at that, playfully nipping at Harry's collarbones, but said nothing. They both loved each other very much, even the fans, the "Larry shippers," could tell. They had known all along. Probably before either of them knew it themselves. And everything, all of the secrets and manipulation, would be worth it in the end.