Homeless (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 2

It had been almost two weeks since Harry met Louis and had to run around town for him. Louis rarely talked to him even when Harry tried to make quick a conversation. On most days, Louis wasn't even there and just left the door unlocked for Harry to come in and get his clothes. He had a lot of them. And not just for a little homeless boy like Harry; he had a lot for anyone. He had at least 20 pairs of pants and 50 shirts, but the underwear is what got Harry. He had so many and they were all so hot, Harry couldn't believe he was lucky enough to even see them. Some were small and lacy, some were manly but had little bows on the front; some had ones that said things on the butt like "spank me" or "give me more." Harry practically worshipped them, making sure to give them a long stare before actually going out and getting them washed at the laundry mat. He was almost glad Louis wasn't there half the time so he'd be able to look through the magazines at more picture him. Sure, he could just see him right there in person but....not in the same way. And he didn't seem to want anything to do with Harry in person. But in the magazines, it almost seemed like Louis was begging for him. Or maybe that was just Harry's sick imagination.

It's almost been two weeks and Harry still knows nothing about Louis except for the fact that he's apparently a playgirl and that he's never home late at night or during the day or there at all really. Harry's kind of nervous to ask; he doesn't want to say anything about seeing the pictures because then Louis would know he probably likes him. Well, thinks he's hot at least. But Harry has never found a guy so utterly attractive before and that....he pretty much says he's in love with him whether he is or isn't. He's in love with Louis' body, that's for sure. He's in love with Louis' body and the closest thing he's been to seeing it was when he had a t-shirt and baggy shorts on. The rest of the time he's wearing is tight skinny jeans and jacket because apparently to Louis it's cold in his house. To Harry, it's warm and lovely and everything he's ever wanted a home to be. Not that he lives there. He's literally only there for 15 minutes, then spends the rest of the day and night hiding out in abandoned houses, but that's besides the point. Harry wishes he could live there, with Louis. He'd do whatever Louis said whenever he wanted it; he would promise that. He'd rub his feet, maybe give him a back massage after a long hard day at wherever he works...maybe a full body one, Harry's pleasure. Seriously, Harry's pleasure.

It was one night around 6 when Harry went over to Louis' that he found out what he did for a living besides being a playgirl. Harry walked through the small house and peered around the corner to see into Louis' room. He heard some muffled movements, but didn't think anything of it. That's when he walked in and saw a jaw-dropping sight. Louis was in black lacy lingerie with knee high stockings and whateveryoucallits. He was slipping on jeans just as Harry walked in to stare at the older boy, his mouth watering. When Louis felt a presence in his room, he swiveled around and was surprised to see Harry staring at him intently in his skimpy outfit.

"Uh...I'm....I'm sorry," Harry was barely able to mutter out. But Harry didn't move from his spot. He continued to stare as Louis quietly slip on a shirt.

"It's okay," Louis said chuckling.

"The door was open and I didn't know that...that you were..here or whatever." Harry was flustered now, not being able to wrap around his finger that he saw some of the pictures he's groped at for days finally come to life.

"It's okay love," Louis said then walked over to Harry and ruffled his hair. When Harry seemed to like that a little too much, Louis looked down at him with a strange look on his face. Maybe he was creeped out with a little 15 year old boy staring at him in lingerie a few seconds ago, Harry didn't know. But he really didn't care. He was determined to know what Louis did for a living. Or at least get out of him that he was a full time playgirl model and maybe Harry could come with him to a photo shoot....? Maybe?

"I'm kind of running late for work, so go and grab my clothes basket, be quick," Louis said pointing to a corner as he searched for his keys.

"Okay...um...I don't know if this is too personal, but...where do you work? You have odd hours," Harry said with a laundry basket in his hand.

"I'm....um, I'm a dancer, love."

"You're a stripper aren't you?"

Louis looked up at Harry, surprised that he would jump to the obvious conclusion so fast.

"I prefer exotic dancer, but call me what you will," Louis said grabbing his coat and throwing it on. "And I don't exactly 'strip.' I really just...dance."

"Pole dance?" Harry smirked. Louis narrowed his eyes at him.

"Do you do anything else?"

"Why?" Louis eyed him.

"Because....you know, usually being a stripper or...or an exotic dancer is a part time job."

Louis hesitated. "I'm a model as well. That's the part time job though. I'm not that attractive but just different enough I guess to get the job sometimes," Louis said heading towards the door.

"I.....I think you're attractive," Harry said, immediately regretting it when Louis looked back at him weirdly, door halfway open.

"I mean...what I meant was, I think you're really hot...I mean, like...it shouldn't just be a part time job, like they're wrong...you're really, uh....hot."

Harry gulped, his face burning, as silence swept over the room.

"Well...thanks, love," Louis said, then left without another word.

"I swear if he calls me 'love' one more time, I'm going to faint," Harry muttered under his breath as he walked to the laundry mat, thoughts of Louis exotically dancing around him in his head.