'Cause I Can Love You More Than Stan

one

Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back" is booming loudly throughout Stan's spacious two-story home and girls (as well as a few dudes) are stripping their clothes off and doing body shots.

Louis is next to his friend, all smiley and whacked out.

He's sitting on the kitchen counter swinging his legs back and forth, and constantly refilling his red solo cup with beer.

"So glad your parents are on a three week holiday." Lou says, in a rather douchey voice to Stan.

Stan proudly nods "Yep, gives me good opportunities."

Louis quirks his mouth into a slight smile and narrows his eyes. He can tell that Stan is going to do something naughty, or weird, or both.

"Lad, just look around," he starts pointing in the direction the commotion is happening. "There are literal like, almost naked girls over there!" He hops down from the counter, eyes lit up, and approaches the corner of the kitchen where girls are sprawled on a coffee table, having various alcoholic substances poured onto their bare bodies.

"Don't mess up the table too much ladies and lads, it's an antique!" Stan jokes, opening the door to his parent's spirits stash, pulling out his favorite bottle of Vodka.

Louis shoots him a look and calls out to him still sitting on the counter "Have fun doing whatever obscure shit you plan to do."

"C'mon get over here!" He starts chanting "Louis, Louis, Louis..."

Everyone in the kitchen joins in on it.

He loudly replies, "No Stan, I want nothing to do with using other peoples'- strangers' bodies... that way." He thinks that Stan seemed to forget he had a boyfriend.

Then it hit him. He has a boyfriend. He feels around in his pocket, takes out, and looks at his cracked iPhone screen. 44 missed calls from "Curly". He feels like such an idiot. His amused smirk quickly changes to a guilty frown. He desperately needs to speak with Harry.

At this point, Stan is drastically more drunk than Louis, levitating in his own world. Louis for that reason doesn't think he needs to tell him he's gonna slip away. He dismounts the countertop and walks briskly to the bathroom.

He attempts to turn the knob, only to find that it's locked and the room is occupied. He curses under his breath, then decides to go up to Stan's bedroom.

Once upstairs, he goes to his room, slams the door, and flops down on the bed with a huff. He doesn't even notice that the door to his friend's balcony is wide open and the crisp outside breeze is blowing in. He pulls out his phone again, seeing the miscalls notification. Then his phone dies. He scoffs, then suddenly fires of rude comments at himself.

"You're a wanker, a bad boyfriend, and lazy and-" Louis is interrupted by a distant low voice.

"Check, check, and check."  He looks around, all confused, and sees the open door to the balcony. The voice he heard sounded familiar but he can't put a finger on who it might be.

"Okay, who's out there?"

No reply.

"Seriously? I just want to know who it is."

Still no reply.

Frustrated, he perks up off of the bed. He heads toward the balcony, the moonlight shining into the room. He flips on the switch of the dim outside light. He is completely shocked by who he sees.

It's Harry, legs folded into his chest, hood over his head, with tear-stained cheeks. He stares blankly at the younger boy just analyzing him. Harry has a scowl plastered on his face.