To Think, Lust Isn't Enough (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 3

Louis doesn't know why he's here. Probably has something to do with the blonde over joyful fuckhead who just skipped off to the closest place to get an alcoholic beverage. Either way, Louis' tired and his head hurts and the stupid DJ is playing that stupid ass band that nobody likes. And well, Louis' PISSY. He was pissy when he woke up after 2 hours of sleep, he was pissy at lunch, he was pissy on the way here, and he's been beyond pissy since a blond hoe with no respect for herself came and grinded on him ten minutes ago. And really? What part of him doesn't say gay in capital letters?!

So yeah , Louis is tired of people, and he wants to go home and cry to his mommy and eat Ben and Jerry's in bed because he's 18 and he fucking can . However, his best friend and his best friends soon to be lover just had to take him to a party because "you need to get laid! You're so tense" "maybe if you'd stop fucking touching me I wouldn't be tense!" "You need to wank or something" "Trust me you're the most wank I can fucking handle!" And Louis really hates Niall Horan. He wouldn't let Louis go change, even! So he's in a pair of gray jogging pants, a white t and a beanie, and he looks like a hobo. But apparently "we can't stop by your house because you'll whine to your mommy and she won't make you go!" And fuck Niall. Because that's exactly what would of happened and he'd be in his mummy's arms and happy. Laugh at him all you want, but guess who gets his mums cookies instead of you (it's actually daisy and phoebe but they slip him some now and then.) Despite his terrible physical looks at the moment, he still has people eyeing him up and down and all over him, because well. He's the footie captain and extremely popular, bed hair and all. Louis started fighting through the throng of dancing teenagers, occasionally feeling a manicured hand grab at his crotch, and well. Yelling out, "if you don't have a dick, I'm not interested." Is a huge turn off. Who knew? Damn he needs a drink.

He slid into the kitchen out of the reaches of everyone with a vagina (thank god). No one was in the kitchen, meaning the alcoholic beverages were somewhere else, which is okay with him. Water and lack of suffocation sounds absolutely replenishing to him. He grabbed a solo cup, a yellow, not a red, because fuck society that's why. He went to the freezer and tried to get ice, but it wouldn't come out. And Louis, Louis was really really frustrated and he just wanted to go home. Some would call him a pussy because his eyes filled with tears, but damnit. He's running on hardly no sleep, he wants to know how his little sister is, and he's fucking sore from practice. So damn him to hell if he wants a glass of water and can't even get it. He kicked the fridge, whimpering softly as his foot throbbed. "Let me," a gravely voice said from the door way, causing Louis to jump. And damnit. He didn't want Harry's help. He didn't want Harry. He didn't want to be here. But he DID want water, so he bowed his his head in defeat, biting his lip to keep in tears. He thinks he's kind of pathetic. He handed off the cup to the large hands that made him flinch, because I mean hell, there are bruises from them (he checked). Harry elbowed and kicked the fridge just right, and ice tumbled down into the cup. Louis reached for the cup, turning and pouring nice cold water into it. He sipped, sighing in relief, and hoping to avoid Harry's presence. It wasn't moments later he felt hand wrap at his waist and lips on his neck, "Not nice to not say thank you, love." Harry murmured, and Louis flinched away. "You almost hit me earlier, and bruised me. I think we're even Styles." He was thankful he couldn't see Harry's face, and harry couldn't see his, because Louis was just about done with tonight. "Come upstairs with me." Harry nipped at his ear, "No." "We don't have to do anything." "You don't work like that Harry." "S'pose I don't. But maybe a back rub could convince that it might be worth it?" He mouthed at Louis tense shoulder, and Louis' head lolled back because, damnit his whole body hurt, and that sounded amazing. "And if it doesn't? Convince me, that is." "Then I'll try other methods." Louis sighed, "Why can't you find someone else to fuck with Harry? Run out of options?" He hissed out, causing Harry to pull his back into his chest and his ass aligned with Harry's growing crotch. "No ones got an ass quite like yours, Tomlinson." Harry gripped Louis bum in his hands, and Louis would lie if he said it wasn't a turn on. "Fine. But, that better be one damn good back rub." He felt Harry smile against his neck, teeth at it, and then lightly pull Louis to the stairs. Louis is really regretting this, but one night and Harry will leave him alone? Okay.

Harry brought Louis to a guest room of sorts, and licked up and down Louis neck. Louis just tried not to look at him. He tried to pretend he didn't want this, but the growing bulge in his pants have him away. "I'll go get some lotion for that back rub just lay on the bed." Harry instructed, as he slipped into the built on bathroom. He fumbled through the drawers until he found a bottle with blueberry scented lotion in it. He popped open the lid and headed back to give Louis what he obviously wanted, a smirk on his face at the though of the older boy moaning his name.

Needless to say, what he was hoping for isn't what he got. As he returned to the room he saw Louis laying on his stomach shirtless, just like he'd wanted for weeks, his toned tan shoulders rising and falling contentedly as soft snores left his little pink mouth. So no, no sex tonight.