Larry Stylinson ao3 one shots.

the way you slam your body into mine reminds me i'm alive

Written by:Zouisclimax

Summary:"Waste. A fucking waste."

"Um..sorry are you talking to yourself?"

Louis purses his lips. "Yes you know what. Yes-" Louis turns to yell at the fucker that judged him for talking to himself, but the words die in his throat, because wow. Holy. Goddamn, wow. Jesus on a freaking cracker. Is this God? Is Louis seeing God? Louis' not very religious but suddenly he feels like he needs to get on his knees and worship, not suck a dick for once. Okay, he is lying. He wants to suck this dick.

[or the fic where louis is in uni and hates spinach, and harry is a closeted popstar who doesn't understand why the green leaves are so evil]

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Work Text:
Something hits the wall above Louis' head. He's not sure what it is. Honestly, it could be anything: a shoe, a football, a fucking beanie baby. He couldn't care less. I couldn't care less, he thinks haughtily. Throw the fucking world at my wall, I still won't open these gorgeous baby blues.

He knows his eyes are gorgeous, the fit boy at that dingy club last week told him so, and now that Louis thinks about it, it was probably just a line to get Louis to get on his knees for him. But again, he was fit. He didn't mind fucking up the knees of his trousers for him. His dick was worth it.

Anyway, as of right now, the only thing he cares about is his sleep. His beautiful, beautiful sleep. He yanks the duvet further towards his chin, snuggling his head deeper into the pillow. He refuses to open his eyes yet. He has no doubt in his mind that it's some ungodly hour. Like, 8. Christ. Who the fuck even invented the hour 8? Lucifer himself? Probably. Was time even invented? Louis' sure that he heard something about time being relative somewhere at some point in his life, but again. Sleep. Who cares about time when you can sleep.

"Loueh."

Another something smacks against the wall. Louis whines. He's almost certain the smirk coming off his roommate's face is palpable. Dick.

"Oh, Loooooueeeh."

"Fuck. Off." Louis mumbles, snuggling further into his fortress. A bed can be a fucking fortress, it can.

"Babes. Come on. You've class in 45 minutes."

"Your mum's got class in 45 minutes." All right, that's not Louis' best, he can admit that. But can you blame him? He was up late last night. Turns out it's not a good idea to wait until the last possible minute to finish a paper due at 7 A.M. Who would've thought?

"I've only been asleep. One. Fucking. Hour." Louis mumbles.

"Well that's your own fault, isn't it babes?"

"I'm going to kick you. Once I find the energy to crawl out of this fortress and put on pants, I'm going to kick you."

"Did you just call your bed a fortress?"

"I'm a bloody king Zayn! It's in my bloody name! Of course my bed is a fortress!" Louis hears Zayn let out a snort and he scowls and sits up.

Zayn's leaning against the door, looking flawless and effortlessly beautiful in the hazy morning light.

"What the hell are you even doing up at this hour? I didn't think you even knew it existed."

"Ha ha." Zayn sneers. He bites his lip a moment after. Louis cocks his head to the side. Huh, that's weird. It almost looks like Zayn is-