for angels to fly | lwt + hes.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

‘Zayn,’ Louis moaned. ‘What is wrong with me?’

Zayn reached over to clasp him by the shoulder. ‘Louis, you have experienced the magical pleasures of your first prostitute.’

Louis pulled a disgusted face. ‘Why am I suddenly reminded of the sex talk my mum gave me in year eight?’

The two were sitting on Zayn’s balcony, dusk settling around them as they drank tea and Zayn steadily smoked his way through a pack of cigarettes. It was an unfortunate turn of events that had Louis sitting there but really, he was at the end of his rope. And when in doubt he turned to Zayn and begged him to fix it. 

‘Now, I’m not speaking from past experience or anything here,’ His friend continued, raising his voice and talking over Louis, ‘but I’ve heard it can get quite intense.’

Louis was really regretting going over to his flat in the first place.

‘So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to put this whole experience in the wank bank for special occasions and try to put it out of your mind until the appropriate moment. Like when you’re alone and I am nowhere to be found. I’m, you know, supportive or whatever but I don’t really want to know all the details.’

‘Well, I wasn’t really planning on going into detail or anything-’

Zayn cut him off. ‘Mate, as your friend, I’m telling you to put this out of your mind. Go find some nice boy who reads or something. It’s honestly not worth the sexual frustration.’

‘I’m not sexually frustrated,’ Louis mumbled half-heartedly.

Zayn snorted. ‘Yeah, okay. Don’t even try and convince me the circles under your eyes aren’t from staying up and wanking every night.’

Louis sighed. The ugly truth was that Zayn was completely right. It had been exactly five days since what he had began to refer to as ‘the incident’ and he hadn’t slept a wink since. He’d been lying awake at night, one hand on his cock and the other clenched in his sheets, trying desperately not to think about his hands and that fucking mouth… As a result, Louis was turning into one of those insomniacs that drank too much coffee and snapped at everyone who so much as approached them. Zayn had even greeted him at the door that afternoon with a, ‘Well, don’t you look like shit.’

All because of that lanky, dimpled, sexy as hell, stupid fucking boy. 

‘Stop frowning babes; you’ll get wrinkles on your pretty face.’

Louis sighed and slumped back in his chair, turning his now-empty mug around and around in his hands. ‘I don’t know, mate, you’re probably right. He must have just been using his magical hooker powers on me or something.’

His friend grinned a little but nodded as he stood up. ‘Right, now that we’ve established that, how about we order some pizza or something?’

‘Yeah,’ Louis mumbled, following Zayn inside. His flat was basically the same layout as Louis’, except a little bigger and a little neater. 

He seated himself in the armchair and called out to Zayn as he disappeared into the kitchen to order, ‘Make sure you get cheese!’

‘Honestly, the things I do for you…’ Zayn returned a couple of minutes later with his phone in hand and a couple of plates. 

‘Uh, just on top of that, I was actually meaning to ask you something,’ Louis said sheepishly, pulling his legs up onto the chair and resting his chin on his knees. He hoped his eyes were suitably innocent enough.