Playboy » L.S

Chapter 9

Just when my hands start sliding down his torso in the direction of his belt buckle, a man's voice calling out "Harry!" is heard from the hallway, followed immediately by the door swinging open. 

The Curly haired Playboy quickly jumps away from me, leaving me perched on the vanity, my breathing hopelessly harsh and my cheeks are surely flushed.

Wait. Did he just call him Harry? Harry is his name? Fucking finally I know the hottie's name! It's about time!

The Playboy with the black spiked hair is standing in the doorway, his jaw nearly on the floor, but he seems completely amused.

"What the fuck!?" The black haired Playboy bursts out laughing, his hand clutching his stomach as he bellows.

"Shut the fuck up, Zayn," Harry mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"L-look at you, though!" Zayn manages to say through his fits of laughter. "I mean, come on, I know you said the guy was hot earlier but really? In the fucking dressing room?"

"Quit," Harry's tone is threatening, but Zayn doesn't seem the least bit intimidated by it. If I were him I'd be curled up in the corner right about now just from Harry's heated glare.

"Both of you are panting with hard ons right now! I can't believe what I just walked into! This is gold, fucking gold," Zayn wipes a tear from his eye with his index finger.

I see Harry look at me out of the corner of his eye when I clasp my hands together in my lap as an attempt to cover up the bulge in my pants that Zayn so easily pointed out. Harry's lips threaten a smirk before his eyes snap back to Zayn.

"Why are you here, Zayn?" Harry sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair to push back his curls that have fallen on his forehead.

"Shit," Zayn chuckles lightly, shaking his head. "I actually came to talk to you about him." He gestures towards me with his hand.

"Why me?" I finally speak up, causing both of them to turn their heads in my direction. 

"You seem to be the center of Harry's attention recently, and I wanted to see you for myself. He said you were hot, but too bad I'm straight."

I feel my cheeks flare and my eyes widen as I look back and forth between them. Zayn has a smug expression on his face and Harry rolls his eyes.

Wait, he's straight? "I thought this was a gay club.."

"Zayn, you fucking idiot! He's like fuck buddies with the new owner!" Harry shakes his head as Zayn's eyes widen.

"Fuck buddies?" New owner? Oh, does he mean Damien? "Oh, no, Damien and I are just friends."

Harry's tense shoulders seem to relax completely and he crosses his arms over his chest, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"Shit, kid, don't say anything to Damien, please," Zayn walks closer to Harry and I and puts his hands up in defense. "I could get fired if he knows I'm straight."

I look Zayn up and down before shifting my gaze to Harry. Both of their eyes are pleading, and as I make eye contact with Harry's jade gaze, I sigh heavily. "I won't say anything."

"Thank you so much," Zayn releases a heavy sigh and turns back to Harry. "Anyway, I saw your little play toy in the front row while I was performing. I knew it was him from how you described, so I came here to tell you I saw him after my dance, but it looks like he made it here first."

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up my hand to stop him. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Zayn's confused expression almost makes me laugh. Did he seriously not hear what he had just called me?

"I'm not his 'play toy' so don't talk about me like that," I narrow my eyes at Zayn, faintly aware of Harry's slightly shocked expression out of the corner of my eye.

"I'm sorry, kid, but look where you are right now," He gestures to the vanity I'm still perched on. "And what I just caught you two doing."

"Fuck you," I spit, hopping down off the vanity. I push past both of them as I walk away, throwing open the door.

I faintly hear Harry's voice calling "Louis!" while I jog down the hall, my anger fueling me completely. Who the fuck does he think he is? He basically just called me a whore! I'm not Harry's 'play toy' and I definitely won't be talked to like that. The worst part about it is that Harry just fucking stood there. I can't blame him really, we barely know each other. Fuck, maybe I am a whore.

Harry's pov.

"Louis!" I call and rush to the door, but Louis' figure has already disappeared out of the hallway.

"Fuck!" I yell and slam my door shut, nearly cracking the wood.

"Woah, Haz, calm down," Zayn raises his hands in defense.

"Don't you fucking 'Haz' me, you ass! You had no right calling him that!" My hands clench into angry fists at my sides. I will not hit him, I will not hit him. 

"But what is he to you, Harry?" Zayn crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyebrow.

What is he to me... Fuck. He's not my friend, I don't even know him. He sure as hell isn't my boyfriend, that shit will never happen. We've only made out a couple of times and I had fun, so technically... he is my 'play toy'.

"That's what I thought," Zayn says smugly at my lack of a reply.

"God damnit," I mutter, dragging my hands down my face. "You didn't have to say that right in front of him, though! Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Find someone else?" He says casually, shrugging as if it's fucking raining men outside.

"That's the problem, Zayn. I don't want to find someone else. I like how it feels when he touches me. There's this.. this spark, I don't fucking know, but it's there and I never felt it with any of the guys I've been with. It's.. intriguing."

"Dude, you're dick whipped already," Zayn chuckles and claps his hand over my shoulder.

"That's not even a term, you idiot," I spit, but can't help the laughter that bubbles up. Fuck, he's infuriating but he's my best friend and I love him to death, despite his asshole tendencies.

"It is for you," He pats my back a little bit too hard, but I suck it up anyway.

"Shit, now what am I supposed to do about Louis?" I groan and sit down on the chair in front of my mirror, resting my elbows on my knees, my face falling in my hands.

"Go apologize, blame everything on me, I don't care," Zayn leans against the vanity next to me and crosses his arms over his chest, his legs crossing at his ankles.

"You know he could have just ran to Damien and told on you for being straight, right?" I smirk and look up at him.

"Yeah, definitely go apologize. I'm sure he'll listen to you better than me," He laughs lightly and shakes his head.

"You're a dick, you know that, don't you?" I grin, standing from my chair.

"I'm well aware," Zayn laughs and I flip him off as I exit my dressing room in search of Louis.