I'm A Little Teapot (crack!fic drabble, 1D)
Excuse the strange crack!fic, but here's Louis as a teapot? (reposted from Tumblr)
Literally written because Lida told me I couldn't. I don't even know.
Louis was in love. He’d just had this realization. He was madly in love with Harry - the way his hands felt along his spine, the way he sang, the way he smiled in the morning before getting tea. Everything about Harry was wonderful.
He was sure that Harry felt the same way about him.
Every morning Harry would caress Lou’s body, singing to him as Haz warmed him up. He’d smile that dazzling smile as he cooked breakfast, never sitting down to eat until Louis had sung with him. In the evenings, he’d make sure Louis was piping hot and ready to sing before he considered turning in. It was all really very romantic.
And yesterday… Yesterday, Harry had picked Louis up, like it was no trouble at all, and emptied him. Louis was having a little trouble focusing after those pink lips had been so intimate with him.
The only problem that Louis could foresee is that he didn’t really have a way to tell Harry how he felt. He sang his heart out every chance he got, but Harry just carried on in his usual way.
Louis thought the problem might be in his figure. He was rather stout, for a teapot.
But Harry would come the next morning and slide his hands around him and he knew that no, it was not his figure.
Perhaps being a teapot was a bigger problem than he’d first thought?
Literally written because Lida told me I couldn't. I don't even know.
Louis was in love. He’d just had this realization. He was madly in love with Harry - the way his hands felt along his spine, the way he sang, the way he smiled in the morning before getting tea. Everything about Harry was wonderful.
He was sure that Harry felt the same way about him.
Every morning Harry would caress Lou’s body, singing to him as Haz warmed him up. He’d smile that dazzling smile as he cooked breakfast, never sitting down to eat until Louis had sung with him. In the evenings, he’d make sure Louis was piping hot and ready to sing before he considered turning in. It was all really very romantic.
And yesterday… Yesterday, Harry had picked Louis up, like it was no trouble at all, and emptied him. Louis was having a little trouble focusing after those pink lips had been so intimate with him.
The only problem that Louis could foresee is that he didn’t really have a way to tell Harry how he felt. He sang his heart out every chance he got, but Harry just carried on in his usual way.
Louis thought the problem might be in his figure. He was rather stout, for a teapot.
But Harry would come the next morning and slide his hands around him and he knew that no, it was not his figure.
Perhaps being a teapot was a bigger problem than he’d first thought?