Louis Lies [Larry Stylinson AU]

Chapter Eleven

Quack quack, I'm back! :D No? Okay. So anyways. I won't be able to update this weekend because my dad is coming to visit and then next saturday is my birthday, so I will be gone. That's why I'm updating so soon! :) Also, I'm like super sarcastic if you haven't picked up on that, so don't be offended by my comments! Or do...

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 "I don't know what you're talking about," Louis mutters, not bothering to turn around. He's too nervous. Anyone could easily tell he was lying by his face. His eyebrows were drawn, his cheeks flaming. He never was a very good liar.

Zayn laughs, it's a very chill and casual sound that richocets off the teak-wood cupboards. "Look, I don't care where you went, Lou. I just wanna know."

"Well why the hell would you need to know if you don't care?" The Doncaster lad snaps, full sass present in his bitter tone.

Zayn holds his hands up in defense, shrugging his shoulders and muttering something about "PFS".

"What the hell is that supposed to be?"

"Post Fucked Syndrome. You're welcome," Zayn smirks, exiting the kitchen.

Louis huffs, hardy har har it's sooo funny to crack gay guy jokes. Not.

With a bitter mood, the man finishes his sandwich, slapping on a hearty amount of mayonnaise and tomato before filling a crystal glass with milk and proceeding into the dinning room. He chews slowly, savoring each bite. And it may sound pathetic to get worked-up over a sandwich, but damn. It was delicious.

He wipes his mouth with a napkin and stands, carrying his plate and glass to the sink. Rinsing them off, he places them in the dishwasher before drying his hands and heading up to his temporary room. He grabs some clean clothes and heads to shower. But not before checking his phone after hearing a very audible beeeeep.

A new text message. From Harry.

Dinner tonight? It reads. I'll pick you up at 7.

And just like that, Harry gets his way.

Louis texts a quick "yes" back to the Cheshire lad before gathering his stuff and walking into the wash room. He turns the metal knob all the way round to heat the water. Hot, the kind of hot that leaves your skin feeling almost cold but really just burning when you pull away from the water. Louis likes this kind of hot because of the steam, it makes one lose themself only to step into the cold bathroom air to find themself once again.

He takes his time in the shower, scrubbing his body with his Bearber wash, shampooing his hair twice, and finally applying a thick layer of conditioner. Letting it soak, he leaned against the cool, white tile wall.

This wasn't how he imagined his life would turn out, believe it or not. He didn't fantasize about loving someone who was incapable of loving back. Much like a janitor didn't dream of having their occupation. They were just too busy partying to give it much thought.

No, he dreamed of finishing uni, getting his degree and becoming a pediatrician. Louis loved kids, and he had wanted three. But those dreams were shattered in year twelve, just six weeks before he was to graduate.

Louis met Drew. A boy in year eleven who was so smart but so popular and he was the perfect mix of charm and boyance and Axe body wash and perfection. Louis wasn't gay until he met Drew.

Louis was goofing off with his group of buds one day, sitting at a table in the court yard and trying to land a grape in Stan's mouth. Stacey was nestled up next to him, tossing back her blonde hair and letting out a laugh. He remembers when he thought she was the prettiest girl he's ever seen. Now he can't even look at the female population without cringing.

After Stan failed to catch five grapes at once, that's when Drew strolled by. His dark hair was gelled back, dark grey t-shirt stretched tight over his built frame. He was with the jocks, looking out of place since he wasn't acting like an idiot. Let's face it, eleventh year footie players have frank-and-beans for brains.

When the Doncaster lad's eyes met with the caramel brown ones, he was putty. Then, Drew winked. He freaking winked.

Louis was pretty well-known around school, admired by many and wanted by all. He was a stud and a charmer, as smooth as soap in wet hands, so maybe he shouldn't have been so shocked that this guy happened to be into him. But maybe the reason for his disbelief was just that. It was a guy.

The feather-haired man knew he wasn't gay. Well, he used to know. But now here's this super hot soccer player that's interested and what the hell is that feeling in the pit of his stomach?

He had denied it for weeks after that. But everytime he saw Drew at school and they caught gazes, the younger lad would do something. Like smile, or wave, or wink for God's sake.

This little flirting game went on for months, along with Louis' enternal battle on his now fuzzy sexuality. Oh, and Stacey? Louis dumped her like yesterday's garbage.

It was two months and twenty-three days after their first "encounter" that Drew finally made a move.

Louis was at his locker one morning, chatting with Matt while he put away his textbooks.

"Yeah, Mr. Catney's lecture was useless today. I mean I slept through half that hour," The blue-eyed man complains.

Matt laughs. "Tommo, you would've slept anyway!"

"Oi, shut it down! S'not like you're any better!"

The lad huffs. "For your information, I haven't slept in a class sin-"

Louis looks up at the stopping of Matt's voice. He sees Matt's eyes swing their gaze from him to a space behind Louis' head. "What?"

The Doncaster lad turns to face the distraction, but ends up staring at a figure much taller than himself. Drew.

"Hey," Drew smirks, watching the shorter boy's face. "I'm Drew, it's nice to meet you."

"Louis," He answers, trying to keep his cool. "Likewise."

"I wanted to introduce myself, and of course ask you out," Drew explains. "Wanna get to know you better."

Matt scoffs, "Get off with it, he's not a queer."

Louis elbows him. "Fuck off, man. You don't talk to people like that."

The brown-haired boy shrugs, offering Louis a harsh glare. "Whatever, man. Later."

"Sorry 'bout him. He isn't very friendly to new faces. But yeah, I'm not gay. But, friends. We could go out as friends."

"Sure," Drew smiles, suprisingly happy. "My friend's having a party tonight. Meet me there at eight?"

"Sounds cool," Louis smiles. "See you there."

Louis sighs as he moves to stand under the stream of water. He hates thinking about Drew. At that party, he got so drunk he let it slip that he thought about Drew naked every night. And what do you know? Drew and he kissed. Made out. Slept together. Then Drew left. Left that morning without waking Louis, without a note, without a text, without an explanation. Louis never heard from him again.