Slight Pressure

16. She's a Little Runaway

written by @dirtyyarn

"Jesus Christ, Harry! Could you knock, mate?" Louis tucks in and wipes his sticky hand across his shorts.

"I love you, Louis, but is there ever a 24 hour period of time when you don't have your cock out? And there's no door to knock on. In case you haven't noticed, you're sprawled out in the living room."

"Oh, yeah. I was gonna clean up some, but then it seemed like a better idea to put all the cushions on the floor and try 'em out," Louis looks sheepish. "Guess she didn't want to play pillow fort though, because that's when she gave me the voodoo death glare and left."

Louis stares off into the near distance while scratching his scruffy cheeks. Harry thinks his blue eyes look cloudy this morning.

"What are you on about Lou? Who didn't want to play pillow fort?"

"Riley's mate, April. The goddess," Louis sighs wistfully.

Harry does not need this version of his best friend today. He can't handle school-girl-falling-in-love Louis. Right this minute he needs Louis to get his shit together and help him figure out what to do about the very naked Riley in his bed. Shit, he's getting hard again, picturing her with his sheet slipping off one breast as he snuck out of the room. The room where he'd been snooping in her purse and found the dirty letter from some prat named Nialler. What the fuck kind of name is Nialler, anyway?

"Louis, pay attention, I need your help. There's a situation."

"A situation?" Louis is finally pulling his head out of the sandalwood clouds to focus on his friend. "With Riley? Shit, Harry, I thought you said she was on the pill. Lemme throw some clothes on and I'll run to the clinic and grab the morning after pill. But you gotta be more careful. I shouldn't have to be telling you this. You're a gyno for fuck's sake!"

"Shut up, Louis. This is way worse and I need to figure out what to do."

"Worse than getting a bird knocked up? Fuck. Okay, let's go make some tea and you can lay it out for me."

Twenty five minutes later, Harry's eyes are ringed red. He leans back, balancing his chair on two legs and willing the rest of his tears to stay in his eyes and off his cheeks. Why does it have to hurt so much?

Louis sips his tea. Yorkshire, with milk; no sugar, thanks. When it seems Harry is ready to listen, he says, "H, it appears to me that you have your knickers in a knot over a whole lot of nothing. Whoever this Nialler guy is, he's obviously hung up on your girl, but it isn't as if you found out Riley is writing smarmy love letters. I don't think she's that type, she's a good egg. Plus, you saw the way she shot down Liam at the party"

"But she's obviously been with this guy recently, and she lied about the note in her purse being from Liam. The woman seems to have men lined up round the station, but last night..."

Louis waits a beat... "Last night, what?"

"Well, we wouldn't have needed that morning after pill. I guess Riley gives it up for everyone but me. She hesitated and I thought it was kind of sweet, so we uh, finished another way. Yeah, Liam and this Nialler and God knows who else, are all good enough to fuck, but I'm not. So there's that."

"You're a deep-feeler, man, a sentimentalist. We aren't all wired the way you are, Harry. You don't normally jump in the sack with someone unless there's an emotional connection. Some of us give it up as part of the normal progression and we hesitate when the emotions creep in because they're fucking scary. Having sex with someone we're emotionally invested in... that's next level, H. What happened to Riley the last time she got to that place with someone?"