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Louis prefers to sleep naked.
The sheets twist around his waist. It is dark and gloomy outside, the curtains are drawn close. He stretches his limbs over the cold matress. His muscles ache, he must do some kind of exercise tomorrow or he will get serious back-problems.
He reaches over to his nightstand, to his delight, his hand discovers the handle of a cup. He usually sleeps with a glass of water right beside him, never a cup, though. He sniffs it. Tea, definitely. Maybe Harry put it there? No, it can't be. He's being delusional again. Louis swallows the tea. It's lukewarm. However, it is his favored, green tea with a spritz of milk. The after taste is peculiar, almost bitter.
His body's paying the price for yesterday's antics—dry mouth, a throat that stings with each swallow. Hand on his chest, he feels his heart going haywire. Louis groans, wanting nothing more than to crash into bed and knock out. It's odd; he had a blast with Harry today, nothing that should keep him up. Ice skating should've drained him, especially with Harry pulling him down like a kid. He smirks, remembering it. The bed creaks as he turns, but sleep seems to be playing hard to get.
There's only one way to fall asleep. Louis gets up with a sight and trots to his drawer. He pulls the top drawer open and rummages through the pile of condoms and his collection of tiny law books. He takes his education seriously at times. Protection, too. That's why he buys condoms in every flavor. To keep his life smart and adventurous. He makes a mental note to try 'Spicy Ginger Ale' the next time he invites his study friend, who is totally only there to study. Louis' thoughts drift to Harry. When he saw him fall on his ass more than once, it did spark something. He groans, and those throaty moans escaping his throat through those inviting lips. Louis takes his bag and papes. He rolls himself a joint and smokes it on his bed until the edges of his room blur.
He laughs, falling down into the pillows. A breeze washes over him like a wave. Louis struggles out of his pants and gets a hand on his dick.
His brain is woozy and filled with mingles of Harry, ginger ale, and lots of flying colors.
-
He must've passed out. He wakes up to bright sunrays, shining through his window, abusing his red rimmed eyes. Louis can't believe he forgot to close the curtains. He was dead sure he did close them at some point. He hates waking up with the sun already out. It makes him feel ancient. Like a grandfather after his pre-death nap. He gets up, his arms and legs tingle. He ruffles through his hair. A cold breeze blows over his naked body and makes him shiver. Louis grabs a sweater. It's blue but a darker shade. He snatches a pair of jeans as well and sorts his hair situation out just to hide the, still tousled, mess under the hood of his hoodie. He strolls into the kitchen with his phone in his pocket.
No warm smell of cinnamon covered baked apples welcomes him. Louis rummages through the cupboards. He and Harry agreed to buy one box of healthy cereal for emergency. Harry likes to be healthy in all aspects of his life. He never eats junk or skips an exercise or his daily hour of meditation. He's a clean freak, too, but Louis vame to terms with that. His unusual alcohol consum is still a surprise to Louis. He likes that side of Harry best. Not that he likes him at all, of course. They get along, yes, but that is all. Louis grabs the oat milk and makes himself a bowl. He hasn't checked the time yet. He probably should. It doesn't really matter what day today is. He feels too bad to even consider going to university. What's the point of it anyway? He will fail eventually anyway. He remembers the day is history teacher told him, he will never ever make it. Back then, Louis threw a fit and called him names, but maybe he was right after all.
"You irresponsible bastard!"
Louis head shots up. He turns to the door, and Niall leans in the frame.
"Your english professor called three times, your exam was today!" Niall stalks inside. He pulls the chair back aggressively and sits down opposite Louis.
"What? It's in two days. Wednesday, isn't it?" Louis asks, confused. He let's his spoon drop. A shudder crawls up his spine. "Are you actually stupid? Today is Wednesday!" He rubs his forehead in distress, taking the bowl from Louis. "But you wouldn't know that, because your brain is fucked with drugs!"
Louis huffs a laugh, "What?"
"Don't play stupid. I found the fucking needles in the bathroom."
Louis' heartbeat increases. Anger boils up inside him. "Needles?"
"Oh come on!" Niall throws his hands up. "I've been very tolerant over the past months alright? But injecting? What are you, a bloody junky?"
Louis gets up, "You really think I do that yeah? Bevause I'm such a fuck-up and don't care about my grades like you do?" He laughs hysterically, but really he can feel tears shooting up into his eyes.
Niall leans back, "Well. You said it."
Louis shakes his head. "I can't believe-" He blinks up to the ceiling. There's a big rock in his throat, preventing him from speaking but also from getting too angry. "Nevermind." He throws the door to the kitchen close.
He almost runs to the bathroom. Tears are flowing down his cheeks. He grabs the doorknob and attempts to turn it but the door is locked. Why did he even wake up today?
"Harry?" He knocks his fists against the wodden door. "I need a wee, come on!"
He takes a step back. Something falls to the floor, a clicking sound rattles through Louis ears. Like something is crushed under a glass.
"Just a second!" Harry's voice sounds weird, unsure and shaky.
"Hurry!" Louis screams back. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, and starts pacing up and down in front of the door.
The door swings open, and a rush of warm mist envelops Louis as he takes a tentative step inside. Before his mind syncs with his eyes, it's too late. His gaze widens, a primal response taking hold in this private moment. It's like a throwback to an ancient era, his arousal evident as he feels a stirring below. Harry's presence unfolds, a wet and tempting spectacle. Clad in glasses, he emanates a modern-day deity vibe—long limbs, a defined six-pack, and bulging arm muscles as he stands at the sink, floss between his fingers. Tanned skin adorned with tattoos captures Louis's attention, his eyes trailing down to a perky ass and strong, lengthy thighs. It's maddening, and Harry's wet, rippling muscles glisten as water drips down his chest. Curls secured in rollers, coupled with those damn glasses, create an unexpectedly alluring image. Louis, who never understood the professor fantasy, now gets it. The sinful sight of Harry's body makes him question the almighty; this could very well be his undoing. As Harry turns, smiling with flushed cheeks and tempting lips, the need for an exorcism intensifies. This, Louis realizes, is his enticing downfall. He might need an exorcism.
"Hey." He croaks out. His eyes are so wide, but he physically is unable to avert his gaze. "Sorry I- didn't mean to stare."
Harry laughs, his stomach flexes. Louis doesn't dare to look down. "It's alright, I'm quite flattered."
"Yeah." Louis clears his throat.
"Have a wee, I'm just going to take a shower."
Louis almost falls to his knees. "Yeah but-"
Harry waves him off, stepping into the shower with his shampoo in hand. "I shower with my Zayn all the time, it's totally fine!"
Louis nods because he can't really open his mouth otherwise he will say something very inappropriate. His sadness is blown away. Something else needs to be blown too and Louis can't really concentrate on anything else.
