Parallel Lines » Larry Stylinson

Chapter 11- Harry

The crowd is amazing and loud, the screams filling the whole arena as soon as we jump on stage. Niall goes up first, playing his intro on his guitar along with the band.

Louis goes up next, my little angel. He jumps onto stage, treading lightly on those dainty little feet of his. God, just now was amazing. I can't believe he let me sleep on his lap. Does this mean... No. It can't be. We're just friends, band mates, brothers. Nothing more.

Zayn hops onto stage next and Liam follows, and finally, me. I sing my solo for Clouds, which is the first song of the set list.

Screams fill my ears and I wave to the crowd as soon as the song finishes.

"How are you Chicago?" I say into the microphone. More screams. I notice Louis grinning from beside me. I mindlessly mirror him. 

He's adorable, in that white muscle tee and tight black jeans. Heck, I want to see him without them.

Louis raises an eyebrow at me and I look away quickly, blushing. I swear he could read my thoughts. If he could, well I might as well be fucked.

I pull down my shirt lower and stare into the crowd. Heck, Louis is talking to them now, telling them that the crowd is massive. Like my boner.

I'm having a boner on stage.

Oh well. I might as well be fucked.

I pull down my shirt some more and pat Josh on the back  before sprinting to the middle of the stage. I hope no one notices the budge in my pants. I bite my lip and join Liam, who is reading a couple of posters. I read a couple myself. 

'Fuck me Harry,' one says, and I smirk at her, causing the girl holding it to scream even louder. The girl fans herself with both her hands and her friend hugs her, waving at me. I chuckle as Liam pats me on my back.

I read another sign. 'Louis you're hella hot,' it spells in big bold letters.

"Damn right he is," I mutter, making sure that I hold my microphone as far away as possible. Don't want the fans knowing my thoughts on how fit Louis is. 

I move on to he other side of the stage and see one that says 'you make me strong'.

"That's a very good one," I point at the poster and the girl's mouth hangs wide open, shocked that I noticed her. God, I love my fans so much.

We jump into out next song, 'Little White Lies' and after a couple of songs, my head starts to pound from the loud screams and adrenaline. 

And the boner just wouldn't go away.

I keep staring at Louis. I found a sign that says 'Harry has no chill', and I blush. That sign is absolutely correct. I indeed can't contain myself. A boner on stage, really, Styles? Good job. You're rocking it tonight. 

Louis suddenly skips to me and slings his arm around my shoulder as he sings his solo. The crowd freaks out and screams, and I find myself smirking. Louis is a couple of inches shorter than me, and he has to stand on the tips of his toes just to put his arms around my shoulders. It's adorable. I can see right through the sleeve of his shirt, since he's wearing a muscle tee. And oh god, his muscles contract and his abs are defined. I bite my lip and look away, at the crowd. 

Harry has no chill indeed. 

"Fuck," I mutter and pull down my shirt further to conceal my hard on. 

"Did you just swear, Styles?" Louis says into the microphone as soon as the song ends. 

My eyes widen and the crowd goes wild again. "No! That was uh... that was the crowd!" I try my best to cover up but I cannot seem to find the perfect excuse.