Pretty in Plastic (l.s)

xiv

Louis gets home late, and he's shocked to see Harry laying on the couch. He's curled into a ball, and his shoulders are shaking. Louis hears soft sobs, and it doesn't take much to understand that he's crying. Louis softly shuts the door, and sloppily removes his coat. He stumbles over to Harry, and the man looks up from his position.

"Lou?" Harry uncurls himself, but Louis falls on top of him. They drunkenly rearrange themselves: Louis on top, his thighs straddling Harry's waist, and Harry holding his hips to secure him.

"You're wearing the shirt." The doll says as he splays his hands across Harry's chest. He stares, and blushes because Harry's so broad. Louis knows he isn't the most muscular guy around (especially compared to the guy in that video), but his frame is pleasing nonetheless. Louis' heart races a little more when he feels Harry's hands squeeze gently.

"Kala said I look weird." Louis flares his nostrils, and drifts his eyes up towards Harry's hurt expression. He drags his hands to Harry's hair, and massages his scalp. Harry hums, and closes his eyes.

Louis watches him, and thinks about Niall told him: letting go, saying how he feels, and feeling... free.

"I don't like Kala." Harry opens his eyes. "I think she's mean, and insecure. She's a bully, and she keeps trying to control you. I don't like it. I don't like her."

"Louis—" Harry sits up, putting a hand on the doll's back to keep him in place. Now they're chest to chest, faces inches from each other, but Louis doesn't notice. He has to say it.

"She hates me, she hates that you like me, and she hates that I'm better." Harry hums with a soft grin. Louis moves his hands to Harry's arms, and grips them nervously. "She doesn't like me because I like you."

"I like you, too."

"No," Louis huffs, "I—I want to be your extra special friend."

Harry's still too drunk to understand. He thinks Louis' mumbling nonsense. "You are."

"No!" Louis shoves him back down, and hovers over him closely. There's a tense silence, and Louis suddenly realizes how close they are. He feels his heart really start to race, and his cock twitches because he knows this is one of the positions where the 'twink' in that video was on top. "I wanna be your twink."

Harry chokes, and tries to sink more into the cushions to create space. "What?"

"That— That's what'd I be, right?" Louis sits up straight, and bounces a little. Harry squeaks, and rolls them over. Louis blinks in surprise.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"Computer." The doll says, and his devilish antics are smoothed over with the innocent look on his face. Harry recalls his saved video, and curses. "Am I a twink, Harry?"

Harry hesitates. "Yeah, Lou. You would be a twink."

"You like twinks?" Louis feels Harry's hand travel across his thigh before stopping on his lower stomach.

"Yes."

"You like me?" Louis spreads his legs wider, and Harry comfortably and firmly lays himself on top of the doll.

"Yes." Harry breathes out, and Louis grunts when Harry kisses him.

—————

Harry places the pancakes on the plate next to the bacon, and puts it on the table. Louis takes the plate, and waits for the syrup.

Neither have spoken since they woke up. They both remember what happened: the kissing, the humping, and the moans. Harry closes his eyes as he thinks about it, leaning on the counter. Good gracious, the moans.

"Louis," Harry barely voices as he tries to cleanse his thoughts, "we need to talk."

Louis looks up as Harry grabs the syrup, and gives it to him. Harry sits across from him, and watches Louis with a bit of fond. The doll is just something to be admired, and adored.

"When did you see that video?" Harry asks him, but Louis is unfazed.

The doll struggles to cut his pancakes so he meagerly hands his fork, and knife to Harry. Harry chuckles, and cutes the pancakes. "The day you stayed out with Kayla."

"Her name's Kala."

"Yeah, her." Harry bites back his smile, and leans on the table. Louis starts to eat, humming at the taste.

"How do you know what a twink is?"

"I don't." Louis mumbles. "I just assumed it was the little guy."

"Why?" Harry asks, and Louis points to the counter. Sitting by the bread is a box of Twinkies.

Louis swallows. "They're small, too."

Harry puts the tips of his fingers over his mouth. "I see, Twink and Twinkies. So, what made you say you wanted to be my twink?"

Louis dips his finger in the syrup, watches it drizzle slowly from his finger, and sucks it off. "I like you."

"You don't know what that feels like." Harry shakes his head, and runs a hand through his hair. Louis frowns.

"I liked that video, and I thought about you the entire time I watched it." Harry blushes. "I liked last night, and I did it with you. I like you, Harry."

"Louis, there's more to liking than what you're saying." Harry fumbles. "That's sex. You want to have sex. It's— It's not the same."

"Do you like me?" Louis' eyes are wide, fully blown, and Harry gulps. "You said you did."

"I was drunk. I wasn't thinking when I said that." Harry tries to recover, and his heart aches when he sees the pain on Louis' face. "Lou, please try to understand. I have a girlfriend, I have Kala—"

"So you don't need or want me now."

"What?" Louis stands, and Harry reaches for him. "Louis, that's not what I'm saying—"

"It sure sounds like it." Harry flinches at the doll's harsh tone. "I always say to be honest, and I was. I told you the truth. What I never knew was how much it could hurt when someone... when they..."

Louis struggles to find the words. In a fit of anger and hurt, he starts to cry. Harry gasps, and stands. "Oh, Lou."

"No!" Louis rushes upstairs. "Leave me alone!"