Atomic (your hair is beautiful) - Larry [complete]

Chapter 5

A.N.: Don't forget this is a crackfic, meaning that I can do whatever I want with it hahaha

Dedication is for someone who writes an amazing Larry story! Y'all should check saviour out!

With the bubble gum pop music of The Wanted, still blasting through the car as the obnoxious Irishman sang along, the Mini Cooper riding with full speed over every little bump, the rope burning Harry’s wrists, the wiggling of Louis’ bum on his lap turning his already blue balls, probably an alarming shade of purple, this car ride seemed to last a century. Or no, worse, a millennium. Wait, make that an eternity. Yes, that felt right. The car ride seemed to never stop at all. Harry felt like Prometheus, the guy in Greek mythology whose liver got eaten by eagle during the day, only for it to grow back during the night. And that every day for the rest of eternity. So, yes, Harry was suffering.

It almost felt like a god’s gift when the car finally made a –of course a very brusque – stop.

“Do you take care of the fish, Niall? I’ll take care of little Curly over here,” Louis said as he finally got up and let Harry’s cock breath again, opening the door of the car. Who did that short bastard dare to call little. Harry was sure he was at least three inches taller than him and – holy fuck!

As his annoyance had taken over his mind back in the car, he hadn’t really paid attention to his surroundings, which made the sight he currently was met with even more surprising. He found one of the biggest, if it wasn’t the biggest mansions Harry had ever seen in his entire life right in front of him. He himself was currently standing on a large driveway, the gate they should have come through already a couple of yards behind him. It was absolutely incredible.

Harry knew Louis had stolen some expensive stuff, but there was no way in hell he could’ve afforded all this. He hadn’t ever robbed a bank or anything. So did he steal this house-mansion-castle thing?

“You’re coming Curly, or do you want some more time to drool?” Louis asked annoyed. He definitely wasn’t someone for patience. That was a pity, actually. Patience was a virtue. Good things come to those who wait. And such. Harry was forgotten which point he had wanted to make. Oh, well.

“Is this your house? Do you live here?” Harry asked instead, starting to walk along, moving to the big, white door, such a cliché door.

“This? Oh, no. It’s from a friend, but yes, we live here most of the time. He got lonely in the big house with only his girlfriend, on good days that is, to keep him company. So yeah, he invited Niall and I one time and we never left.”

That actually pretty much sounded like something Louis would do, not that Harry knew him that well to be able to predict what he would or wouldn’t do, but still.

“Oh, okay.”

As Louis opened the cliché white door, Harry was even more overwhelmed by the, on the first hand the luxury of the house, on the other hand the unusual decoration like statues of Spiderman, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and obscene graffiti drawings of penises some walls were covered with.

Louis walked him further into the house, to the living, but couldn’t find a decent spot to tie Harry to, well, to tie the purple, sparkling skipping rope to. He then patted Harry’s cheek, “You’re going to keep standing on this spot, right here in front of the wall, all prettily, okay Curly? I’ll be back in a moment.”

Harry did think about escaping, but when he had only just finished thinking the word ‘escape’ Louis was already back, and Harry still stood on the same spot, finishing thinking about the word ‘escape.’ He had probably only gone to the bathroom.

“Hmm, so whose friend’s house was this again?” Harry uttered as Louis looked at him with eyes like predators, coming too close.

“Zayn, you probably don’t even know him,” Louis answered, not dropping eye-contact. He took a step forward again in Harry’s direction, in which he immediately reacted by taking one step back, only to be met with a wall.

"I’m craving some tea. Do you want some tea too? I can make some tea, if you want,” Harry started to ramble as Louis had taken another step forward. The space between them almost non-existent.

“Hmm, maybe some other time,” Louis purred, really, he purred, “Right now, I crave something entirely different, though.” And just like that, he groped Harry, palming his erection. He couldn’t help but moan softly as he finally, finally, got some friction.

“Yes, that’s it,” Louis whispered in his ear, moving his hand up and down as he put a tad more pressure on it.

“What?” Harry uttered, but he almost instantly forgot he had said something as Louis opened the zipper of his pants

“Just relax,” Louis said calmly, slipping his hand into Harry’s briefs to grip the bays of his cock firmly, “I’m apologising.”

Harry’s eyes closed as the pleasure built up and he lost himself in the action, but he was soon reminded that Louis was in fact a criminal whom had just kidnapped him. So, he shouldn’t really doing the frick-frack with Louis. He attempted to buck his hips out of the grip, but all he did was shift a bit more, therefore causing more friction, his eyes rolling back.

“Just relax, Curly,” Louis whispered, rubbing his thumb across the tip, smearing out the beat of precome. Afterwards he slowly, agonizingly slowly, dragged his palm down, making Harry pant. Louis’ hands were just so small, almost kid’s hands, but on the other side, they felt so erotic. It was a weird, arousing paradox. And with Harry’s previous built-up sexual frustration, his release was almost there.

Just when he came and his briefs as well as Louis’ hand got soaked by his release, he felt a sudden sharp pain on the inside of his elbow.

“What,” he croaked, eyes spread open, as he was still coming down from his release. First, black spots start to cover his sight, before he felt himself fallen, supported by Louis’ shoulder. How did he even get there? His head lulled, feeling the shoulder better. Soft shoulder. 

“Hush, go to sleep,” Louis whispered in his ears. It felt like chocolate, or no, everything felt like chocolate.

The chocolate covered everything. It had even covered Harry’s sight.

It started to cover his thoughts.

It was.

Too much chocolate.

What was even chocolate?

Choc.