Larry Stylinson Smut

Nothing's Free

"I really need it,"

"Well, I can't just give out freebies, Louis."

Louis sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes were blown wide and signs of red rings were starting to form from the frustrating tears that were threatening to leak. Louis needed his fix but having gotten so addicted recently and being only 17, there was no way that he could keep up. He was broke, basically. Standing in his dealer's dim flat, it doesn't look like he was going to convince him to give away free drugs.

"It's not like I'm gonna run off! You know me, Harry. I've been coming to you for months. Please. I'll get you the money by next week."

It was true, Louis found Harry through some "friends" and he figured what with the small age gap, it was just easier to return and form some kind of trust. He's heard stories about 40 year old thugs who sell fake stuff that could get you severely ill or, worst, dead. That thought made him shudder.

Harry's plump lips pressed together to form a line, seemingly considering this factor. He scanned Louis' body while contemplating. Now, Harry was tidy when it came to dealing. Getting involved with a customer in any way was a bad, bad idea but he couldn't ignore how hot Louis was. He noticed everything, the toned biceps, the shy six pack, thick thighs and how small he was compared to himself. He wondered whether that meant Louis was foldable, flexible... His moss, green eyes trailed back up and met with Louis' pleading blues.

"No. I need payment. I can't let anything go without getting something in return."

Louis seemed to collapse around himself then. His skin was crawling, itching for coke. He frantically racked his brain for some kind of solution- there no way he was leaving this place empty handed. Something clicked in his brain then, whether it was a good idea or not was lost on him. He'd noticed Harry looking at him before and he could've sworn he'd done it again just now.

"You want something in return?"

"Yeah, pretty much how dealing works."

"So.. 'something', n-not just money, will do?"

Louis bit down hard on his cracked, bottom lip. Harry opened his eyes slightly further than before and looked down at the tiny figure beneath him, clearly trying to steady his voice.

"Depends on what you're offering."

Louis tentatively reached out a dainty hand to rest on Harry's hip. He moved it down quickly, as if afraid he would change his mind and pull away, and ghosted his fingers over Harry's crotch. He looked up to stare at green eyes, obvious doubt in his own orbs.

"You sure?"

"Mmm."

"What am I getting then?"

"A-anything. Just warn me if err, if you want anything like, really weird.."

Harry's breath hitched at the prospect of having Louis' body at his own accord. Shit. The boy's definitely not thinking straight and is clearly just desperate for a fix. It's a bit shameful and a little disgusting to take advantage of that. But honestly, how often would Louis present himself like this again? He wasn't poor, probably just had a bad week with cash. Harry's clear want and rising arousal pushed away his stupid morals and he made his decision.

"Alright. Let's go to my bedroom, yeah?"

Louis looked fucking terrified, following Harry's lean body to his bedroom down the hallway, deciding to leave behind his dignity in the living room.

Harry shut the door behind him and turned to a very apprehensive looking Louis. His sharp eyes were darting around the room at the chest of drawers, black wardrobe, frameless mirror, flat screen TV on the wall, a grey lamp- alight on the bedside table then finally, the king sized bed centred in the omnimous space.