We Don't Know (Larry Stylinson)

Part 5: Harry

If you don't like smut skip over this part until you see the ">>>>"!

It was soft and gentle for a moment. It started getting more and more intense as I believe he started to realize I was kissing him back. I put my hands on his small hips as I stood up. He was giving me every single bit of his attention, and his tongue.

He removed his hands from my face, and started kissing my neck. I began staring at the ceiling and breathing heavily, with my hands moving up to his chest. How was this even happening?

I suddenly felt a tickle on my my waist. I looked down. His hands. He threw my shirt onto the bed in a hurry, and we started making out again.

I didn't want to be boring and chicken out. But I had to ask. "Wait-", I started. He  stopped to look up at me. "What is it?", He whispered softly. "Have you done this before?", I asked, twiddling my fingers and looking down.

"No...Why do you not want to?"

"No-no it's just-"

"We don't have to, if you don't want to."

"No, I want to I just..."

"What?"

I sighed.

"It's okay, you can tell me, Harold."

"I haven't got any experience...with, you know...boys."

"Neither've I, love. I won't judge you."

I looked back up at him and leaned in to start kissing him again. "Are you ready?", He asked. "Yeah.", I replied, whispering. He started taking off his shirt. He was ripped. I noticed had two tattoos on his chest, one that read "IT IS WHAT IT IS", and on beneath it on the right he had the number seventy-eight.

I started tracing the outlines with my fingers gently. I thought he might be the tattoo type. I put my hands back flat on his chest as he wrapped his hands around the back of my neck and we started making out again.

We stopped, pressing our foreheads together as we held each other. I noticed him look down at his pants. It was time.

I was extremely nervous, but excited at the same time. THE Louis Tomlinson was about to be my first. And I was going to be his. I felt so lucky.

I reached down at his pants. I realized he wasn't wearing a belt. I quickly undid his button, then the zipper as I got down on my knees. He pulled them down in a hurry, and kicked off his shoes. I felt like I was going to faint. What did I have to loose?

I started stroking the line of his boxers before slipping two fingers under them, causing him to look up smiling as he exhaled. He started getting hard just by my touch. I took both hands and pulled off his briefs completely. Wow.

It was so big. How the fuck was I supposed to manage to get it down my throat? I thought I'd use my hands first and see where it went. I looked at him for a second before cautiously putting one around his dick.

I slowly starting moving it back and forth until he started breathing even heavier. I figured I'd go faster. "Oh fuck, you're really good at that, huh?", he groaned. I chuckled. "Oh yeah?"

I stopped and leaned in towards it. It seemed to fit down perfectly. Wonderful time to realize I didn't have a gag reflex. I  tried to make sure not to accidentally bite him. He started groaning even more when it started going in and out of my throat, going faster and faster.

"Fuck", he whispered. I went faster. He grabbed me by my hair and put his other hand against the dresser to brace himself. I looked up at him occasionally to see if he was enjoying it. He was.

I stopped when I felt something cold shoot into the back of my throat. "That was amazing.", He breathed. "Best ten minutes of my life.", He chuckled. I laughed. "I was scared you wouldn't like it."

"Like it?! I loved it. I love everything you do, Harold.", He assured me while pulling his pants back up. Love. "It's Harry, by the way.", I corrected him. "Yeah, sure.", He teased. "Anyways want to lay down, love?" I nodded.

>>>>

We got into bed and just laid there, staring at the ceiling. It felt so right.

The door busted open. Eleanor.

She stared at us for a second, wide eyed with her hands crossed. "And in my bed, too?" She questioned, before storming off. "Wait, Eleanor! It's not what you think!", Louis shouted. "Wait right here, Harold I'll deal with this. I'll be back."

He kissed me quickly and before I even got the chance to respond, he left and closed the door. I felt so awkward and embarrassed. Eleanor probably thought we did it in her bed. Well I mean we did do it, just not in her bed- but it didn't matter. I would be grossed out if I walked in on my boyfriend and saw that he had done stuff with another guy, too. Well...ex-boyfriend, I mean.

I waited and waited for him to come back. Surely he had done something about it by now, or at least have been told to leave? Had he left without me?

Maybe he lied. Had he not enjoyed it after all? Of course he did. Why would Louis Tomlinson have enjoyed me giving him a blow job? Why the hell was I so confident and proud of myself a minute ago?

Time kept going by. There was no was he was going to come back. It was bad enough he lied to me, but did he really have to take my shirt, too?

I sat there, not knowing what to do. If I left the room I was positive someone would notice Louis and I switched shirts. I started looking around the room.

I noticed something shiny from under Eleanor's dresser. I got up to see what it was. I looked at the door to make sure no one was about to walk in again and see me snooping. I looked underneath the dresser and realized what it was. A large bottle of alcohol.

I was alone, but I had to pass the time somehow. I popped of the cork and started drinking. It was strong. It didn't faze me though, I was too bored.

The bottle started to feel heavier and heavier. I thought drinking more would help to empty it out, but somehow it didn't. My head started to hurt. I put the bottle down and started laying back down. It felt like my head was spinning around along with the ceiling fan. I couldn't look at the ceiling anymore.

I figured I would go downstairs to get some water. Water might make me start feeling better. But I realized booze tasted better.

The guys in the kitchen started cheering me on, it felt like I was hearing everything underwater. But I didn't care. This was a party. I was supposed to be having fun, right?

>>>>

One after the other. Blurrier and blurrier. It just happened. I don't remember it stopping.

I just remember waking up at three in the morning. I went downstairs to get a snack, and that was when I saw him.

Why was Louis Tomlinson sleeping on my couch? Especially after we had ended on such an odd note that night? Why was he still wearing my shirt?

Why did he look so perfect?