Larry One Shots

Its Raining Men! Hallelujah!

I was listening to this song earlier, and wanted something funny, but since I'm sorta on writers block, I asked my dear dear friend to write it out for me. It was originally a girl, but #editingskills. I talk too much...ANYWAYS, here's a (sorta) funny, plot-twisty, type of story. Creds to my boo, hope y'all enjoy! (I'm also deeply sorry about the spacing...I'm on my iPad and had no clue how it'd look in on mobile and I also didn't know how to fix the large spacing it was on before.)

Louis' Dream

THUNDER rumbles. Rain hisses. Flashes of lightning-brilliant and blue white-rip across the sky.
I know I'm dreaming, yet something about this whole scenario seems as real as the nose on my face, the hair on my head, the dick swinging between my legs.
In addition to the natural sounds of the storm, there's another noise, and it makes me smile. Music. Rising. Percussion. Disco beats. And the powerful wail of Martha Wash and the Weather Girls singing "It's Raining Men."
I'm standing under some kind of awning-red, canvas-watching the rain pour down not in drops, but sheets. Blinding. The flashes of lightning are like a disco strobe light, revealing in flashes of blue and silver, a darkened cityscape. Night. But a netherworld cityscape, blue gray, unreal.
It's the music that makes me want to move out from under the awning. The music that has me smiling, my hips, head, and arms in synchronized rhythm with the beat.
Glorious!
Even the rain, a cold shock to my naked body, isn't enough to keep me from driving myself out into the downpour to dance to the song, which has long been a favorite of mine.
What a delicious notion-raining men! Men falling from the skies! More men than one can shake a stick at (or something that rhymes with stick, heh-heh).
I look up into the midnight-blue clouds, my mouth and eyes open to the water pouring down, and I see it: the first of the men.
I stare in wonder as he drops from the sky. A blond Adonis, smooth and muscled, allover tanned with a dick thick, long, and perfectly hard, pointing back up at the sky. He lands somewhere outside my vision, and I dance, spinning toward where I saw him fall, hoping to find him where he has landed so I can say hello, reach out and touch him.
But before I can make any progress, another man falls from the sky. This one is hirsute, bearded, husky but hard-muscled, putting me in mind of that one Beckham guy. He smiles. Before I can even smile back, other men tumble from the skies, and I want to laugh, cry out in jubilation at my good fortune.

It truly is raining men!

Hallelujah!

They start raining faster now-blonds, redheads, brunets, black, white, Asian, Latino, lanky, beefy, short, tall-all the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. All naked.
All for me!
I raise my arms and shout, "Come to Daddy!"
And they do.
The first body hits me hard, feeling more like a ton of concrete instead of the delicious marriage of sinew, skin, and bone that I have come to know and love as the male form. I collapse to the ground, wind knocked out of me, and look up at the man who has rained down on me. He seems to have no awareness that I am beneath him, and I scurry to get out from underneath the crushing weight threatening to suffocate me, pressing my bones into the wet concrete beneath my back.
I manage to get out just as another man drops from the sky, a Pakistani, partly bald, and looking just like a male model. I scramble free of his path, but he lands on my leg anyway as I crawl through the rain-slicked street.
I hear my leg break with a sickening crack. It takes only seconds for the pain to radiate throughout my entire body.
I roll over, gasping, wincing, groaning, and look up to see an entire sea of naked men falling from the sky in ever-increasing velocity-all headed straight for me.
The music reaches a crescendo in time with my shrieks.

Louis awakens.

The sheets beneath him were twisted and damp with sweat. He gasped, trying to regulate his heartbeat, which was jackhammering so hard he expected to look down and see it lifting the skin off his chest. A cartoon heart.
The room was silent.
Where did the music go? Martha? Weather Girls?
Where was the rain? The thunder?
He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.
Calm.
Just a dream. A nightmare.
Where are all the men?
Finally, he grinned, turning over in his bed.
Why, there's one! Lying right next to me, looking at me with a concerned face, a handsome face. Even in a darkened bedroom, Louis could still tell if they're hot or not. It was his specialty.
This one, with a mop of curly brown hair and a long torso with tattoos, was a ten.
His voice was husky, sleep-choked. "Sunshine. You were having a nightmare. You okay?"
He placed what was meant to be, Louis was sure, a comforting hand on Louis' chest. Louis cringed a little, moving away.
This has never happened before.
I have no idea who he is.
Before Louis could stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, they came. "Who the fuck are you?"