Broken Repair (Larry Stylinson)

Close Encounters and Pain

The sun hits my face, and it annoys me like it does everyday. How dare you wake me from my slumber, Sun! I was having such a nice dream, too. I grumble to myself, and roll over, into a body.

Opening my eyes in sleepy shock, I found myself captivated by the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen. I've seen these before, haven't I? Focusing, I recognise the features on this lovely face. Dark eyebrows, wide nose and red lips. Harry.

What am I doing here? He looks naked. Why is he naked?

I feel naked. I better not be naked.

Touching myself below the covers I gasp in shock. It wasn't a dream. We had sex. We had intercourse with each other in this bed.

"Oh my god," I groan to myself. I can't look at him, he's seen me in the most intimate way. He saw me when I- "Oh my fucking god." I can't believe it. Harry.

I roll over to the side of the bed. I can't look at him, I really can't. What do I say? Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry you fell inside me.

I pick the jeans from the floor, and pull them up my legs. I try not to expose myself, but does it really matter? He's seen it all.

I stand to adjust my trousers, and nearly fall over in the process. I hiss, holding my back. Jesus, he gave it to me hard last night. I can't believe we...

"Shit," I groan, holding my ass. "Shit. I've got to- I'm going." I say, all without looking back at Harry.

I try to storm out, but my ass is not letting me. I hobble in pain out of the room. I blanch when I see mine, and Harry's suit jackets, shirts and ties flung in every direction. I close the door behind me.

Walking to the lift, I press the button in a daze. I just had sex. With Harry Styles.

Harry Styles had sex with me.

Straight man, put his penis in my ass.

Walking in to the lift, I think back. It was probably the best sex I'd had. If you cut out the pain from him entering. But he didn't know, that gay men needed lube.

And no one had ever hit my prostate like that. Come to think of it, I'd never come without touching myself.

Jesus.

Could I look him in the eye again? Knowing he'd made me reach euphoria like that. He'd released inside me, he enjoyed it. He watched me finger myself.

What do I do with this information?

Nothing.

He'll realise it's a drunken mistake. Don't you worry. He didn't talk to you because he was so disgusted at himself.

I huff, as I reach the lower floor. I've got to get home, and shower.