AngelFall (Larry Stylinson)

In the night air

Reaching down, Stefan stretched one hand around the boy's waist and thrust the other forward, toward that velvety part of Harry's body that no one was allowed to touch. The man's eyes widened and he suddenly saw everything with crystal clarity for the first time in the two previous hours. It was Harry's swift kick to his left jaw that jolted him out of his horny and drunken state. Feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the frightened boy raised his leg to create distance between himself and his boyfriend but as the man lunged forward, Harry's foot connected with his face in a swift and unexpected collision, the impact sending him reeling backward and somehow more clear-headed. He put his hand to his jaw wincing in pain.

"God, what the hell Harry" he spoke while circling his palm over his stinging cheek.

Harry stood frozen, his hands instinctively rising to cover his mouth in a gesture of shock and disbelief at his own actions.

"Stefan, 'm...'m so sorry," the man stared at the ground without moving a muscle, palm still on his face.

"Get out,"

"Wha..." Harry didn't have time to finish the word as the man growled again making the boy flinch.

"Get the fuck out!" with a thunderous roar, the man now turned his gaze towards Harry.

"Get out Harry..."

"B-but Stefan, It's almost midnight, where would I go? Please..." Harry cried out panicked. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to hi-hit you Stef, please..."

"Get the fuck out or I won't respond for my actions. Get. Out. "

"Stef, please. I have nowhere to go, and it's late, please" the boy begged him again through sobs.

"Get out Harry, now! I'm telling you for your own good. Get out, get out. Get. The fuck. Out. Now!" and maybe it really was for his own good because at that moment Stefan was no longer himself and he no longer had the right judgment.

Harry stood up, looking disoriented around the room as if searching for something to help him out of this situation. He repeatedly wiped away the tears that wouldn't stop streaming down his heated cheeks with the back of his hand. The boy left the room, no longer conscious or in a too-deep state of panic to remember that he was naked. He headed for the door, put his hand on the doorknob, and then realized he had nothing on. He took a moment to think. The poor soul didn't know if it was a good idea to go back to their room to get dressed, but there was no way he could get out the door that way either. So, he drew a deep breath and with small, timid and easy steps, he headed for the place where he least wanted to be at that moment.

He stopped a couple of times on his way to the room where his boyfriend, the one he had been calling his lover until a few moments ago, was probably still in. He covered his eyes with the bridge of his palms, pressing gradually so that he could concentrate on the pain and calm his breathing or rather the hiccups that were now shaking him from every joint.

He paused at the door, trying to touch the doorknob with his fingers but every time he was about to make contact with the cold metal of the handle, he withdrew his hand as if it was connected to electrical wires and was about to electrocute him. His vision was blurred by new tears that immediately replaced the ones that eventually became full and rolled down the smooth skin of his cheeks.

Then, in a sudden moment of recollection, he realized that he had taken off the clothes he had worn when he arrived and left them in the laundry basket in the bathroom before getting into the tub. Despite the fact that he had worn them yesterday - nothing new here, he was used to it by now - he saw this as a relief, because it meant he wouldn't have to face Stefan again. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing the man in his current state, which was undoubtedly no better than when he had last seen him a few minutes ago.