shamed (larry stylinson au)

part I

louis really just wanted a fucking cup of coffee at this point.

waking up beside a man with your head pounding is worse enough, but to make it even better, it was not just a man; but a man and a women and a dog.

"oh for fucks sake," he muttered exasperated, really just wanting this guys arm to stop holding him and his fucking dog to get off his shoulder.

louis pried the buff guys arm off of his torso, slowly sliding down the bed so the dog fell off his shoulder without him having to touch the damn thing. staggering upright, he reached for any item of clothing to cover his junk with, not really up to walking around this dudes house butt naked.

after successfully finding sweatpants and a blue tshirt that he was pretty sure belonged to the strange women, he tugged them on, hauling his sweaty ass out of the damn room.

louis really needed a shower. like really needed a shower. his hair was greasy and he had cum stains on the side of his (if they even were his) joggers. he reeked of sweat, weed, and alcohol.

he really needs that cup of coffee.

after searching the entire flat for his phone and keys, he rushes to the door, praying to whatever god is up there to help him navigate his way to the lobby, so he doesn't have to piss in his one night stands apartment.

relief flooded louis as he reached the lift, slapping the down button repeatedly as if it would make it go any faster.

by the time the elevator actually arrives he's pretty sure he's in the year three thousand and not much has changed but they lived under fucking water.

and fuck, I just quoted the Jonas brothers, he thinks. did I smoke crack again last night?

stepping into the machine, he presses the first floor, letting out a giant breath and staring up at himself in the mirror that was on the ceiling. bags on bags on bags were under his eyes, and crusted saliva framed his pink lips.

and of course, because the universe is out to get him or something, the elevator dings, but oh no, not to his destination, to the fourth floor.

"fan-fucking-tastic," louis spits out, and even throws the finger to the mirror for good measures.

the doors slides open and the first thing louis saw was green green green, because holy shit his eyes were green.

"ehm," the stranger cleared his throat and louis swears his voice vibrated the whole lift. "excuse me," green eyes steps around louis and stands next to him and good god his jawline can cut cheese.

"good morning," he greets, and louis you fucking wank. 'good morning'?, are you serious? it's not even morning, goddammit, it's one in the afternoon.

but green eyes, bless his sole, smiles lightheartedly. "good morning," he looks down at louis and that's when it hits louis.

he's doing the walk of shame, he thinks. and how fucking golden it is.

green eyes is not only not wearing shoes, he's carrying what seems to be his clothes from last night, and is sporting way too tight of clothing at the moment. his hair is greased back and oh my god his breath reeks.

a smirk graces louis pink lips and oh he's never been more ready to fuck with someone then right now.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to move over. no offense but you smell like sex and regrets," louis splurges and can't help but to add the little side step away from green eyes, and oh man he's got him good.

the stranger looks appalled at first, before his eyes narrow and give louis a once over and fuck, louis realizes, I'm doing the walk of shame too.

"you're one to talk. there's semen on your joggers." green eyes points at the stain, then looks back at louis but louis cant focus on him and his green green green eyes because did he just say semen?

"did you just say semen?" louis asks, and barks out a quick laugh. "just say cum, mate. it's cum."

"harry," the man blurts, staring at louis timidly.

"excuse me?" louis replies, startled, because who the fuck just says 'hairy' when they're talking about cum?

"my name," he says. louis continues to stare at him. "is harry." he clears his throat. "styles."

louis honestly doesn't think this elevator ride could get any longer, until the machine dings again, and finally he steps into the lobby.

"well, harreh, great talk and all," louis pauses. "actually, it wasn't a good talk at all. it was actually very uncomfortable and down right weird so I'd rather not do that again. cheers!" louis turns to walk away but a hand grabs his forearm, dragging him backwards.

louis gawks at the giant hand wrapped around his arm. "holy shit!"

startled, harry yanks his hand back and stares at it, eyes wide. "what?"

"look at your hand! its fucking huge! do you know how hot that is?" at some point when louis was talking, he had grabbed harry's hand back and was vigorously shaking it. he puts his own hand up to harrys and stares at them. louis blinks and looks back at harry. "do you give good hand jobs?"

harry stared at louis and louis stared back, their hands still pressed together. there's a quiet moment as louis waits for harrys answer.

"do you want to find out?"

louis was definitely not expecting that reply from curly at all. he just wanted a reaction out of him. but to be completely honest, he quite liked that answer.

"you know what, 'arry, I like you, I like your attitude, and I like your style. lets get coffee." louis had moved closer to harry and clapped his hand- the one that wasn't occupying harrys colossal one with his smaller one- on his shoulder.

"ha! style, get it? because my last name is styles." harry chortled at his own lame attempt at a joke. actually scratch that, it wasn't even a joke. he literally just pointed out a word in a sentence and compared it to his last name.

"little bit of advice for ya, curly. don't give out personal information to strangers, 'kay?" louis tapped his shoulder lightly and began walking away, hoping this giraffe-like man would follow him.

he did.