Here comes the sun - Larry

CHAPTER 11

It's uneventful to study with Harry Thursday afternoon. I'm glad he doesn't mention his friendly observation about my face again, but it's still affecting the tension between us. Neither of us tries to spark up a conversation, which isn't a good thing because I need something to occupy my mind. I can't keep thinking about the note in my pocket, the words I will inevitably read later because I can't help myself. I know he wouldn't have told me if I hadn't asked, but I wish he had insisted on not blowing my mind because now it's all I can think about when I look at him.

"Louis," he says, "you're staring."

"Sorry."

"If it's about what I wrote, then—"

"It's not," I lie, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm just... nervous about the game tomorrow."

I never get nervous before a game so that's bullshit, but I can't tell him the truth. I'm having an internal crisis, one that I don't want to fill him in on. I try to convince myself it's because Emily refuses to suck me off, that perhaps I automatically think about Harry because he's put the image in my head. And I know I'm turning it around, that I'm the one with the face, but I can't think about it that way because it's... no. All of it just makes me want a blowjob, which I'm not going to get because I won't have Emily do something she's not comfortable with.

"Do you always get nervous?"

"No," I admit, putting down my pen. "Are you going to Liam's party?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I'll probably be too drunk to care. I was just wondering."

"Right," he says, looking away. "I guess it depends on whether or not I want to get drunk."

I look at him for a little too long, reaching up to play with my lower lip while he concentrates on his homework. My mind is getting off track again, wandering off to a place it's not supposed to be. I try to suppress it, but even when I'm jerking off later that night, Harry's face pops into my head. I close my eyes, letting my head fall back against my pillow while I picture him on his knees in front of me. I let the image linger, slipping an imaginary hand into his imaginary hair, but as soon as the image flips around, I let go of my cock completely. It's one thing to think about him while getting off, but to think about his cock in my mouth is well disturbing. It's also very much off the table.

"Fuck," I mumble.

I search for my phone in the sheets, deciding to watch porn to get my mind off Harry. I don't mind thinking about him a little bit, but I refuse to let him drive me to an orgasm. I convince myself it's working, that the girl-on-girl porn is what's getting me off, but deep down I know it's not—the thought of Harry has simply pushed me so close to the edge that anything would've gotten me off.

***

I kiss Emily senseless before the game. It's mainly to get Harry out of my mind, but it's also to satisfy her needs so she doesn't get angry with me. And yeah, red flags are popping up constantly, but I choose to ignore them—healthy, I know.

"Hey," she says, pulling back. "It's time for us to get out there."

"Mmm."

"Maybe if you win," she begins, still brushing her lips against mine. "I'll suck you off."

"No."

"No?"

"I don't want you to. I know you don't like it, so I'm not having you do it."

"Louis," she pouts. "I just wanna make you feel good."

"No." I give her waist a squeeze. "End of discussion."