Maybe He Gives Me More

If you know what's good for you

                Louis's POV
  Before I could even think about what I was doing I found myself knocking on Harry's door. I didn't know what the fuck I expected but I needed him to acknowledge that the experience we had was more than what he was treating it.
      My knuckles hit the metal door hard and I couldn't even remember what I had planned to say. The door swung open and Harry's head popped through the crack between the wall. His curls were messy and his eyes looked sleepy, he was wearing sweatpants that hung loosely on his hips and a white shirt. "H-hi. Can I come in?" I clammered with my words and everything felt foreign in my mouth.
     He didn't say a word and proceeded to widen the door gesturing for me to come in.
I followed his lead once again to his bedroom and I sat myself on his ratty sheets. "What do you want Loverboy?" He asked and I could feel the sleepiness in his hoarse voice.
      "Why do you keep calling me that?" I whispered, losing all confidence I gained before I got here. He smirked and sat next to me. "Because that's exactly what you are. You give the school whore a blow and all the sudden act like there's some type of love, like I owe you anything. That's not how the lifestyle works." Harry snapped at me.
     I scooted close to him and turned so my face was almost touching his, "Then how does this work, Harry?" I asked. I touched my forehead to his and I could feel his breath looming over my lips. "I fuck your mouth, you pay me. And then we pretend we don't know each other. This isn't some special encounter. You aren't special. I fuck bodies not people. This isn't some fucking love story Louis."
      I raised my eyes to meet his, "You just said my name Harry. I knew you didn't forget my name." He stood up in a rush and rubbed his face. His sighs filled the tense silence and in that moment I knew I wasn't some love struck boy. He felt it too.
     "What do you want from me? You want me to tell you how fucking pretty you are? Fine! You're fucking beautiful! Jesus fucking christ stop trying to act like I'm a normal guy. You payed me to fuck your mouth. It's my job. I'm no good for you, don't you fucking get that? Just because I felt connected to you doesn't mean shit. I can't have 'crushes', I can't give you what you fucking want." Harry spoke these words and I could feel the anxiety bubbling up my throat.
    I stood up and walked over to him. "Kiss me." I whispered and for once I wasn't an anxiety ridden teenage boy. I wasn't some scared puppy. Harry looked me up and down and grabbed my chin between his fingers. He pulled my face forward and planted his lips on mine. He tasted of smoke and anger but there was nothing that was more innocent than that kiss. Nothing more pure than feeling his lips on mine.
    He yanked away slowly and reached my gaze. "If you know what's good for you Loverboy, you'll stay the fuck away from me."