Baby Got Moves // Larry Stylinson [NEVER FINISHED]

two

A/N: before we start, i want to keep in mind that this story isn't about them becoming a couple, but the things they'll face as a couple. so if you feel like that they get in a relationship quickly, then that is why. they'll start dating very early on in the story.

~

"Damn," Harry mumbled to himself, biting his lip as he watched the show before him.

In the past two weeks of working there, Harry caught on to his new favorites schedule, knowing he danced on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

Was that a bit creepy? Maybe. But, Harry thought it as completely normal. It was a strip club, anyways. The dancers were meant to be watched.

The way he swayed his hips had Harry mesmerised, his head resting atop his palm as his green eyes were glued to the stage. The brown haired man ran his tattooed hand down his body, sliding a finger into his criminal themed attire, pulling down slowly to reveal his prominent V-Line.

Harry really needed to know the strippers name, but he wasn't sure on how to retrieve it. He couldn't just walk up and ask for it when he was giving lap dances, could he?

"H!" Harry heard Zayn's voice from a distance, turning his head towards the shorter lad, soft smile on show. He waved him over, the body guard smiling.

"What's up?" Harry quizzed, grabbing his water that was on the counter.

Zayn shrugged, wetting his lips. "Being a body guard is boring," He mumbled, adding, "All I do is break up fights and kick overly drunk people out."

"You could always be a stripper," Harry smirked, pointing to the boys dancing on stage, "I think you'd look great up there, you have the looks for it."

Zayn hummed, disagreeing with a shake of his head. "I'd look like a fool, I can't move my hips and grind the way they do," he motioned towards a man who was currently grinding against a pole, sticking his tongue out.

"Just a whole bunch of Miley's," Zayn mumbled. and Harry whacked his arm.

"Don't say that! They have proper talent," Harry pouted, fixing his work uniform quickly as he felt the ends come loose. The whole idea of the outfit was to make the bouncer look sexy, and Harry honestly hated it. But, it did earn him tips in the tip jar.

Zayn shrugged, biting on his thumb nail, eyeing the several guys on stage not too far away. "Miley has talent, if anything, I'm complementing them. I just don't see the point in selling your body like that, you know?"

"They're not prostitutes," Harry cut in way too quickly for his own liking, "They dance for money, show what they got and please horny people. I don't see what's wrong with that."

"Calm," Zayn snickered, "I'm not hating on them, jeez."

"But you're implying that Miley is a stripper, who dances for money?" Harry smirked, crossing his arms.

Zayn sighed, scrubbing at his temples as a large huff left his lips. "Why are we even having this conversation?" he said quickly, in a questioning tone. "I don't care about the dancers, you're the one who gets distracted by the show almost every night."

Harry blushed a deep crimson at his words, because they were true. But no one could blame him. He's a gay man in a gay strip club. He was bound to be caught staring once or twice.

"I'm sorry that I like half naked men, Z. I am oh so sorry that I can't be straight like how you claim to be," Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Zayn gaped, digging a sullen finger into his chest, "Stop with the sarcasm, H. You can't just deny my sexuality, because I am in fact straight." he said, tutting afterwards in an annoyed matter. 

Harry never believed Zayn was straight, ever since he met him in his freshman year of high school. He would take note of how every girl Zayn has 'dated' was completely attached to him, yet the older boy would always seem grossed out if they even went in for a kiss.

He would do nothing more than peck them every so often, and of course that could be for other reasons, such as asexuality or possibly he wasn't attracted to them in that way, but it just added onto why Harry figured his best friend was truly gay. But who knows; maybe Zayn just hasn't found the right girl. 

Harry gulped, blinking a few times and wondering what to say. The silence was becoming awkward, something that never happened between Zayn and Harry. "Okay, then."

"Guess I better go," Zayn coughed after speaking, "See you later?"

Harry nodded, pursing his lips together as the sides of them twitched up into a small smile. The other lad scurried off, pushing through crowds of drunk hollering people, all touchy with one another and some hollering at random strippers scattered around the club.

His eyes widened as he noticed that the show ended and each stripper stepped down, or jumped off, the stage. Now is when people would get lap dances, from any stripper they want. Harry kind of wished he was out there with the other people, but instead he had to stay put and work.

He jolted back as his attention got drawled away from the scene, shooting to the commotion in front of him. Two men were drunkenly yelling at eachother, shoving at one another's shoulders. They were more than obviously arguing over something that Harry couldn't care less about, but he knew he had to at least try and break them up.

If there was one thing about this place that Harry knew in his first few weeks of working here, fights would not be tolerated. The club itself was very strict on it's policy of keeping your calm and to control yourself, and he knew it could earn himself some more cash on his pay check if he stopped the pointless bickering.

"Hey!" Harry shouted, slamming his fist against the counter top a few times, trying to get their attention. "Guys," he groaned, lifting himself up and over the thing separating them.

The pair weren't even sparing him a glance as they spat out profanities, one of the two falling back against the wall as he started to cry. Harry bit his lip, looking for any possible body guard to help him out.

A few people noticed the fight, keeping their distance. Harry huffed, stomping up with a scowl. "Excuse me?" he cupped his hands around his mouth to try and amplify it, bouncing on his heels after a few seconds.

"I got it," A guard patted his shoulder, frightening him. He stepped back, watching as another guard came from nowhere, breaking the fight up. They started tugging them to the front entrance, and Harry felt more than embarrassed as some randoms stared at him.

Hopefully they were drunk and wouldn't remember it the next day.

He walked back over to the bar, too lazy to walk around and to the staff room that lead to the bar's entry way, so he hopped over the counter.

Harry served a few unhappy men, tired of waiting. He sighed as they walked off one by one, disappearing shortly after. He sighed, rubbing his temples when he felt a slight pounding in his forehead.

"That was some heroic shit you did back there," Harry turned around as he heard someone speak loudly over the music, eyes landing on a familiar boy, "It was kinda hot."

Harry did nothing but blink slowly for the first few seconds, before realizing he probably looked utterly stupid and forced himself to say at least anything. "Thanks," he muttered, gulping.

"What's your name?" The brown haired man asked, taking in the blue eyed boys shirtless torso and tight white dark striped shorts. He knew this could be his first and only chance on knowing his favorite boys name, and he was going to get it.

The latter rubbed his thin lips together, half lidded eyes staring Harry down. But, he wasn't going to lie; he loved the strangers attention.
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"Louis," The stripper said after a few seconds, offering a cute smile, "You are?"

It took Harry some more time to reply, so he could compose himself before speaking, but he eventually did. "Harry. It's nice to meet you."

Louis smirked, laying his arms on the table between them. "Nice to meet you too, bouncer boy."

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A/N: i love this fic so far tbh

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