One way or another

Chapter 3

Harry decided to take one last look in the mirror before leaving his house. His unruly brown curly hair was falling messy across his face, but he knew there was no point in fixing it since it would only go back to its original state within seconds. He was wearing his tight black jeans accompanied by his worn out Ramones t-shirt. He liked dressing in dark colours because he thought it made a nice contrast to his otherwise pale skin. Perhaps he would have dressed differently if he had been tanned once in a while. Like in colourful pants, striped shirts and suspenders. But then again, it probably only would have looked stupid on him, regardless of whether he had a tan or not. Not everyone was as perfect as Louis Tomli - and damnit! Harry cursed inwardly while rubbing his forehead with his hand. He had promised himself not to think about Louis for the entire night, and typically, he had already broken it.... and he hadn't even left his goddamn house yet! Well, it isn't as easy as it seems, alright?

With a sigh, Harry walked away from his reflection and over to the hallway. Once there, he bend down to tie his converse when he could hear his mum, Anne, call from the living room.

"Harry? Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I am." He replied, loud enough for her to hear.

"Okay, sweetheart, have fun!" She yelled, too lazy to leave the living room.

While standing up, Harry mumbled noncommittally in response. "Thank you." But it turned out Anne wasn't quite finished.

"Will you come home later?"

Harry contemplated this as he put his jacket on. Even though he didn't bring girls home with him anymore, his family still didn't exactly appreciate it when he came home completely wasted; and that was sort of the plan for the night. With a mix of amusement and embarrassment, he thought back at the Friday three weeks ago - the same day he had written the "Louis park snogging" mail to Zayn. That night he had once again found himself walking home through the park alone, although this time drunk and the fantasies had come back to him with full force.

Him and Louis in the park, Louis playing "Little Things" romantically and Harry going down on his knees to give him a blowjob afterwards, which Louis appreciated so much he could hardly contain himself and came hard not long after in Harry's mouth while moaning his name (it was probably a good thing Harry hadn't been too descriptive in his mail to Zayn, given he didn't want to push the boundaries of their friendship too far). Therefore, when Harry had finally reached his house, with the alcohol still buzzing in his blood making it hard for him to think straight; all he could manage thinking was: Louis, Louis, Louis, yeah, please just fuck me, Louis. Once inside, he didn't even make it to his own room, but had pulled down his annoyingly tight pants the second he had closed the front door. He had then grabbed his ridiculously hard cock in his hand and begun stroking it violently, with the image of a hard, moaning Louis fresh in his mind. He had then fallen down to his knees, and perhaps if he had he been able to think of anything other than holyfuckinggodlouisyesss, then maybe he would have seen Gemma standing in the kitchen staring at him wide eyed in a mix of shock and horror. Because, even if they could say inappropriate sex jokes to each other, watching your sibling stand on his knees in the hallway, with his hair glued to his sweaty forehead was definitely passing some boundaries. In mortification, Gemma had coughed awkwardly, which had caused Harry to raise his head in bewilderment. When noticing her, he had been more surprised rather than anything else. But before he even had the chance to open his mouth, she had quickly excused herself and ran off to her room embarrassed. And again, had Harry not been drunk on alcohol and Louis, maybe he would have had the sense to go up and apologize, or something; whatever you were supposed in those kind of situations. But in that moment, when he couldn't think of anything other than his hard cock, he just kept doing what he was doing and even more ardently, if that was even possible. In the end, it had resulted in an awkward conversation the next day (almost as awkward as the one which had occurred that one time Gemma had caught him walking around naked in the house), but it had also resulted in one of the best orgasms of his entire life so far.