Perfect (L.S)

4.

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vote. comment. tpwk!

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Harry held the bottle in his hand, showing Louis.

"Vodka? How'd you get that?" He asked, reaching for the bottle. He held it in his hands, twisting it. It was obviously travel-sized, but it was still a good-sized bottle.

"Fake I.D, duh. I've got more. But for right now, let's go to the lounge. We've got all trip long to consume these." Harry got up, putting the vodka back in the bag.

"No, dumbass. They're going to see right through you at Customs." Louis stared at him like he was the dumbest man in the word, but to him, was 100% true. Harry was a dumbass. Well, smart school-wise, but the dumbest person ever outside of academics. "They're going to take one look at our shit and one look at Mrs. Cline and we're done for."

"I'm bluffing, sweetcheeks. Of course I know what would happen if we went through immigration with this shit."

"Well it sounded like you weren't." He mumbled.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, his voice darkening harshly.

"I said it sounded like you weren't."

"Good, I see you have the ability to speak at a normal tone. Keep it that way. You sound stupid mumbling." Harry sniffed.

"Oi, buzz off, will ya?" He reached into Harry's bag and pulled out a beer, reaching to unscrew the top. Harry snatched it out of his hands. He shot Harry a sour look, frowning. "What's your damage, Harry?"

He shoved the bottle back into his bag, standing up. Harry grabbed a pen out of his bag. He headed for the door, motioning for Louis to follow.

"Harry, I want to drink."

"Shut up and follow me already." Louis huffed, getting up and following Harry. He crossed his arms, walking with Harry to the lounge.

"I want to go back." Louis leaned in and whispered over Harry's shoulder, "we can't drink here."

"I know that, genius." He rolled his eyes. "I know what I'm doing. If you want to bitch about it, you can sit here, or you can help me."

He pulled the pen that he brought out of his pocket, and reached a hand out to Louis. "Give me your hand."

"Why?" He asked, keeping his arms crossed.

Harry huffed, giving him a cross look. Everything was so difficult with Louis. He shouldn't have shown him the alcohol. Whatever, they already crossed that bridge. He yanked Louis' arm out, roughly grabbing his hand and clicking his pen.

"You are so fucking difficult, man. Just go up there and order what I wrote on your arm." He drug his ballpoint pen across Louis' arm. "After you're done, bring me the stuff and then go wash your arm off. I'll go first. Watch."

"Fine." Louis sat down, watching Harry walk up to the bar.

Behind the bar, was a server, standing next to a computer. Harry had his feet confidently planted on the floor. Dare Louis says it, Harry looked almost... pretty. Or maybe it was just the creme flooring of the lounge blending well with his creme converse. Or the waist of his pants hugging his curves ever so beautifully.

Anyways, he wasn't gay. Harry just was... weird. He was weird.

"Hey babe," Harry smiled, leaning against the counter. His flirtatious tone made Louis' skin boil. Not because he was jealous or anything... but because he was so annoying.