Stuck with Lou ✔️

Chapter 7

The next day, the overwhelming urge to injure Harry still endured. What made it worse, though, was the fact that the boy kept staring at him.

Creepily.

He would walk into form everyday, and just feel Harry's eyes on him, burning a hole in his side. 

The boy wouldn't even look away, is the thing, if he were to make eye contact and pointedly stare. Harry would just smirk, and then wink.

Louis was creeped out, to say the least. He never really knew if Harry wanted to kill him or make Louis fuck him against the nearest wall. Or both.

Harry had proven two very deep rooted opinions that Louis was set on.

One, Harry was the definition of creep. In the dictionary, it should just be a picture of Harry  staring at him right now. He was more than scared for his life and really wanted to get away from Harry.

Two, Harry was, in fact, quite literally desperate. He'd always joked and made comments, but now Harry had finally proven that this was true. He'd had many an argument with Niall about this, and was glad that he was right. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to back himself up without revealing to Niall what exactly he'd done with Harry. Which, of course, would be absurd and extremely fucking stupid.

Conclusion? Harry was a fucking creep.

Part of him felt Harry was to psych him out, make him feel bad or angry or something for doing it up the ass with a bloke.

***

Nearing the end of the week, they hadn't had any sexual incidents since. 

Harry, inevitably, was still staring... Especially when he took off his shirt in the changing rooms.

Louis had taken to showering at home. Yes, he was sweaty and disgusting, but it was better than fearing for his life in the shower with Harry Styles three feet away.

So, every day he would go home and shower. Luckily for him, his mum wasn't home most of the time, and his sister just didn't care. 

On the Friday, Harry cornered him at practice. "Captain's meeting."

"Wot do you want, Styles?" He asked, already getting creeped out by Harry's unrelentingly piercing  gaze.

"You're avoiding me." Harry states.

"Yes."

Harry has the audacity to look offended. "I'm hurt."

"Good to know." He does not have time for a stupid idiots stupid antics.

"And horny." Harry adds.

"Wot do you want me to do about it?"

"Fuck me. After practice." Harry tells him firmly. "Come to my car."

"You've actually lost the plot," He says incredulously "you've lost the fookin plot."

"I'm horny and you have a dick. End of story." Harry said, winking.

And with that, the wanker/dickhead/cunt/[insert word to describe Harry Styles here.] flounced away, immediately getting the attention of the team and starting practice.

***

He was fucking walking to Harry's shiny car.  The boy, it seemed, wasn't there yet, so he was awkwardly had behind it until Harry appeared.

When the idiot finally fucking appeared, he approached him from behind, startling the living daylights out of him. He immediately hit Harry in the arm, cause Harry found it absolutely hilarious.

"You came."

"I did." Louis said, bored.

"Why?"

"Because, Styles, I have a curly haired dickhead constantly wanting me to fook him."

"I wonder who that could be."

"And, anyway- I didn't come here to hook-up."

"You didn't?" Harry looked mad, but Louis stood his ground.

"No, I didn't. I'm sick of you staring at me. It's fooking creepy, is what it is. So I'm here to tell you to fooker off and leave me alone."

Harry's large hands settled on his hips, pulling Louis against him. Harry grinded against him, whispering filthy things. Louis pushed Harry against the car, holding him there. 

"Wot did I just fookin say?" Louis growled, staring at Harry.

"How bout I blow you and I stop staring?" Harry asked, and Louis groaned.

Then, of course, he let Harry blow him in the back of Harry's fancy car.

***

TWO MONTHS LATER

After two months, several things had become abundantly clear.

1) Harry Styles is, and always will be, a fucking twat.

2) Harry Styles was a horny motherfucker.

3) Harry Styles giggled when he came if you suck him off.

4) Hooking up with Harry Styles wasn't gonna stop any time soon.

5) Harry Styles wasn't entirely unbearable.

6) Harry hated it at home.

7) He knew way too much about Harry Styles.

8) Possibly, quite possibly, Louis has some- feelings- for Harry. Feelings which he didn't understand.

There was also little things, like how Harry took his tea (little bit of milk, two sugars), how Harry liked the smell of cinnamon, how Harry's favourite flowers were carnations, how Harry liked cuddles. He knew Harry's favourite movie, favourite tv show, favourite food, favourite song (The Notebook, Friends, m&ms, The Chain, respectively.)

He knew that Harry hated it at home, cause his parents were in the middle of a messy divorce. Harry would often spend the night at his house, to get away from the arguments.

It had just started happening, one day Harry had got a phone call, from his mother, ranting about his father. Harry didn't want to go home, and Louis just told him to stay.

Harry would show up late at night now, just climbing the tree outside his window, opening the window and falling straight into Louis' bed.

Louis had learned the hard way to leave the window open, and to sleep on the left side of the bed.

One day, Harry fell through the window at 3am with a soft thump. Louis was awake, and immediately lifted the bed covers for Harry, who threw his shoes on the ground, wriggling out of his jacket.

"Hey, LouBear" It had become a thing, these nicknames. They were 'endearing', made to piss each other off.

"Harry." Louis said.

"Hmm, you ok?" Harry asked, rolling over and kissing the side of his jaw.

Louis ran a hand over his stubble. He needed a shave. "Homework."

Harry hummed, and then nodded, burying into the covers with a soft sigh.

After a while, soft snores filled the room. Louis looked over, noticing (not for the first time) how Harry looked so peaceful when he slept. 

Anyway.

Louis put his homework away, switching off the lamp.

He threw an arm around Harry, pulling the sleeping boy closer, and, then, he too, fell asleep.

***

Light filling the room, a soft groan.

"WHY IS THERE A BOY IN YOUR BED?!"