Can I dip? | Larry Stylinson

F i f t y - f o u r

It's the morning after the incident.

Louis slowly blinks his eyes open, his hangover starting to kick in. "Fuck." He wipes his eyes with his hand and breathes in. He definitely needs an Advil.

He removes the blanket off and notices his boxers were pooling over his ankles...and dirty—with cum? He shrugs. Guess he had fun overnight. He chuckles, lightly patting Louis Jr.

His shirt is also gone. Seems strange. He never removes his shirt when he sleeps. He's not the type to do that.

He grabs a hold of the blanket and yanks it all off to look for his missing shirt, revealing the naked boy...who is Harry, laying there peacefully like an angel on a cloud.

Louis's eyes widen as memories of last night floods his mind. He ate Harry out.

He fucking ate him out.

Louis licks the inside of his mouth, hoping to get a taste of Harry's ass. Damn it, he says in his mind as the taste has obviously faded over time.

His main concern is if Harry gave consent. Did he? Well he does know he got really fucking drunk last night when Harry stormed out, meaning Harry was completely sober.

As he stands there, conflicted, Harry sits up, taking in everything around him. He flips his hair to the side, his eyes still slightly closed.

Harry looks at Louis and goes back to sleep.

But then he sits up again, this time being fully aware of Louis's presence, Harry widens his eyes as he sees Louis in his underwear. He opens the duvet to peek at his lower region. He's naked—not even wearing any briefs.

Fuck—he thinks.

Harry cards his hands through his hair and inhaled hard, as if it could calm him. He gives Louis a hard stare.

"What the fuck did we just do?" Harry queries in an angry tone, his eyebrows stitched together. He stands up, pulling the duvet with him to cover his private parts. Louis stands there, completely speechless. "I-I—I was drunk."

Harry rummages through the bed to look for his clothes. "I don't—you know what? I'm leaving." Harry says as he spots his dirtied clothes in the corner of the bed.

"W-what? What do you mean? You can't just leave!" Louis tries to grab Harry, making him move back and place his hands out to gesture for him to move away. "Don't touch me. Please." Harry says sternly, Louis hovering over him, almost breathless.

Louis snickers, rolling his eyes. "Oh! Now you're acting all disgusted? You liked it! You didn't even stop me. I was fucking drunk, Harry! I was drunk!" Louis explains, making Harry walk pass by him. He continues to follow Harry as he goes through the room to get his things and pack.

"I don't care, Louis. I knew your plan all along. You've been against Tom since the beginning. You've always wanted us ruined and I—"

Louis clenches his jaw and stares at Harry intensely. "Can you fucking hear yourself, Harry? You sound absolutely ridiculous. You basically let me do it—You could've stopped me but you didn't! You chose to let me eat your fucking ass—Harry, is this a fucking joke—"

Harry stops and faces him in the brink of tears, making Louis's expression soften all of a sudden.

"I'm a fucking cheater, Louis." Harry's voice cracked as tears fall down his cheeks, wiping it and taking a deep breath.

"I'm a cheater. I can't—I can't believe I-" Harry stutters, already starting to struggle breathing. Louis immediately guided him to sit on the bed, grabbing his wrist and putting his other hand on the small of his back.

"Harry, listen to me." Louis tries as Harry's a sobbing mess, trying to run off but stays there—since Louis is restraining him with the use of his hands.

"I-It's not your fault—it's mine. I-It doesn't mean that you're—"

Harry cries even more, "s-stop blaming yourself—I-I—"

"Harry, please calm down." He still continues to sob.

"Harry, stop."

Harry indeed stops, his voice quivering as he shakily grabs his phone from the bedside table. "I-I'm gonna book a flight to LA. I-I'll me—"

"It's not your fault for feeling that way." Louis mutters, making Harry glare at him with his red eyes. Harry's lower lip wobbles, "I-It's completely my fault—"

"It's not your fault for not feeling loved." Louis says, sighing.

"You don't get to feel that way and you—I feel like you long for it—don't you?" Louis asks, staring into Harry's eyes.

The younger one looks away, pursing his lips. He's not trying to deny that fact—even if he tries to. It's the truth.

He can't deny the truth.

"Look at me." Louis commands softly but still making Harry slowly peek up to meet his blue eyes. Louis holds his chin and pulls him closer.

"Don't feel bad. It's his fault for not taking care of you enough. You understand?" Louis assures him, Harry nods, hiccuping.

They stare at each other for like an eternity until Harry stands up. "I-I still need to go."

Louis stops him by grabbing his wrist, "you don't have to—why?" He asks.

"I can't stay here—I need to see Tom." Harry ducks down and yanks his hand off and holds it against his chest.

"We have 3 more days left. M-maybe stay for a little bit longer and then—then you can leave and-and never talk to me ever again—if you want." Louis suggests, shrugging, hoping for Harry to stay. The sole purpose of this whole trip is for them to stay close—it wouldn't matter anymore if he left.

Harry clasps his hands together, sighing. He takes a good look at Louis and shakes his head slowly.

"I—okay." He gives up, sluggishly ambling towards the bed and sitting on it awkwardly, his eyes couldn't stay in one place.

Louis notices this, worrying about the boy's state.

"What happens in the Bahamas, stays in the Bahamas." He promises. Harry looks at him with guilt.

-

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SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE WNNSND