finding louis ✈ larry stylinson

day eight part two✈️

{may have mistakes bc typed on phone}

day eight part two:

"come back here, you little fücker!"

"never! never in your wildest dreams, old man!"

"excuse you? i'm not an old man! two years doesn't make a difference!"

"oh, build a bridge and walk over it!"

"how can i when you shoved the damn pizza from my hands! that was my baby!"

"oops!"

two hours and one messed up hotel bedroom later, a wet harry and a wet louis are still chasing each other around with water guns now tucked loosely in their grip like two teenagers all over again. the bedroom is a completely mess; duvet laying scattered on the black carpet, pillows thrown to the wall and little amounts of  food everywhere, going unnoticed by the two lads.

and really and truly, they don't care because they're too busy trying to kill another.

louis rolls his eyes at harry's comment, jumping on the bed and glancing everywhere to see if harry is to be found. he'll admit to himself that he really enjoys harry's company a lot like, a lot a lot. it makes him feel all bubbly and happy inside which is quite unusual for him since he's never been truly "happy" in since forever. only his career could feel up the small yet big empty hole.

as he grips the water gun tightly, the bracelets on his right hand slide down to his wrist, covering up the still make up area of harry's name. he doesn't know how the hell the makeup manages to stay on after all the water being splashed about but he's thankful that it's still there, untouched and remained hiding from harry's view.

"lou!" harry yells, a goofy smile tugging at his lips. "where are you?"

louis snickers to himself, staying silent at harry's words.

"fine!" harry huffs with a pout, walking slowly to the bedroom where louis' hidden. he already knows he's in there because after all, louis may be a pro at football but he's terrible at hiding.

"i give up! you win!"

louis' eyes widen, realising that harry's at the door. he grips the water gun, ready to squint the liquid whenever the curly headed lad decides to open up. the door knob turns slowly and louis quickly rolls to the other side of the bed, falling with a small thump. he groans softly but remains in character, knowing that harry is about to march in any second.

the door creaks and footsteps follow after, the wood beneath the black carpet making small cracking sounds as the steps make their way into the room. louis holds in his breath as he sees harry's large feet appear in his sight.

"fück, louis," harry chuckles, his lips slightly feeling rough and crack from the breakfast. he licks them, setting the blue watergun lower in his aim.

"louis! come on, i just wanna playy,"

louis bites back his small laugh, trying not to think sexual about his comment.

harry moves a bit forward to the bed, hand reaching out to touch the light fluffy material of the mattress. he shrugs, finally putting the water gun on the side dresser and jumping himself onto the bed.

the bed's springs squeaking startles louis, causing him to jump lightly and making the water gun shoot water onto his white calvin klein boxers.

"fück," he hisses quietly, feeling the liquid sink through the material and land on his dick. and unexpectedly, he moans quietly, slightly loving the feeling of the coldness of the water. moments later, his blue eyes widen in fear, knowing that he just moaned in the same room as harry.