This Feels A Lot Like Love

6. Drink You In Like Oxygen

As promised, the boys went to Good Goldfrey's to celebrate their win. Harry didn't want to go, too hung up on Louis' rejection. However, he had promised Zayn and Niall he would stop by for a drink or two.

As soon as Harry stepped into the glitz and glamour of Goldfrey's, his eyes settled on Louis and a boy. Not a girl giggling or feeling up Louis' body, but a boy. A boy that, by the looks of it, was laughing at all of Louis' jokes and stroking his arm with teasing, light fingertips. Louis just drank it all in, leaning forward and murmuring flirtations into Pretty Boy's ear as he flushed bright pink. Harry was absolutely livid.

"Woah, hey there, Curly, what's wrong?" Niall asked, pulling Harry's arm back and peering into his glazed over eyes.

Harry flinched at the nickname. Specifically, because it was Louis' nickname for him.

"Nothing," Harry defended.

Harry's narrowed eyes flitted over Niall's bony shoulder to shoot daggers at Pretty Boy's back. Although Pretty Boy was oblivious to it, too caught up in Louis' smile and Louis' words and Louis in general. Harry looked away too late before he noticed Louis had noticed him.

Harry looked at Niall with concern washing over Niall's features. He clenched Niall's white shirt into a fist and pulled him towards the lit bar.

"C'mon, let's get a fucking drink."

"Thatta boy!"

Niall laughed loudly, plastering himself over the bar and waving at the bartender, ordering two shots of tequila.

Niall clapped Harry's shoulder, hard, and shoved the tequila into his hands. Harry grabbed the offered drink, the liquid sloshing over his fingers, and tipped his head back. The liquid burned down his throat, but he asked for another and another and another until the world was swaying at his feet and he had to grip Niall's shoulder for support. He could only recall Niall's boisterous laughter ringing inside his ears, everything else white, staticky noise. Pretty soon, he was sloshed, his knees knocking in together, his pigeon-toed feet struggling to walk properly.

When Zayn arrived in a whiff of expensive Tom Ford cologne and curling smoke, Harry hugged Zayn tightly and sloppily kissed him on the cheek. Zayn smudged spit off his blushed cheek.

"What's wrong with him?" Zayn asked Niall over the loud music of the club, steadying a swaying, drunken Harry by holding onto his shoulders.

Before Niall could open his mouth to answer however, Harry made grabby hands at Zayn, squishing his cheeks together.

"Nothing's wrong with me, Zaynie," Harry slurred, his shining lips painted a cherry red.

Zayn's amused eyes darted across Harry's face.

"How much did he have to drink?" Zayn asked Niall.

Niall swallowed a mouthful of rum and coke like it was water, Harry's eyebrows shooting up impressively.

"Don't fucking know, I lost count awhile ago. But this one can't hold his liquor," Niall shouted over the noise of the bar.

"Zayn, don't patronize me. I'm right here."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, his lower lip jutting out in a child-like pout. He crossed his arms against his chest and stomped his boot-clad foot on the dirty floor. Zayn chuckled, low puffs of air vibrating in the air.

"Who knew you'd get so white-girl wasted? You're still a little shit though."

Harry flung his arms around Zayn's neck, pulling him close and mushing his lips to Zayn's warm skin.