Bittersweet - Larry

2

"You okay?" I asked Liam, the way he was continuously chewing on his lip making me think he hadn't just been flirting with Zayn to flirt.

"Do you think I should talk to him?"

"Do you think you'd get anything out of it?" 

Zayn had done this before, but he'd deny it if anyone asked him about it, that being despite knowing people knew better than to believe him. But people were intimidated by him the same way they were intimidated by Harry, so no one dared to speak up, and it wasn't anyone's business anyway. Zayn was clearly struggling with his sexuality, and Liam hadn't been any different, so he could surely understand where Zayn was coming from when he was trying to suppress his need to touch another guy. The alcohol was a way for him to do as he pleased without needing to deal with the consequences, simply blaming his actions on the alcohol while it left Liam feeling used.

"I guess not," he sighed.

"You were struggling too, babe." 

He hummed in response, seeming to think back at his own experience. He hadn't needed to get drunk before he was willing to let go because he refused to let go at all, kissing girls at parties to suppress his urge to kiss boys. We had been best friends since we were kids, so when he kissed me to figure out what he wanted, I had let him, but he didn't seem to come any closer to a conclusion. I was his best friend and whether or not I was his preferred gender, it felt weird, and I suppose that was to be expected. He eventually understood that himself and felt comfortable enough to come out, and I was rather relieved to see him happy again and not constantly worrying about his sexuality. I hadn't been struggling nearly as much—once I felt the urge to kiss boys instead of girls, I decided to go with whatever I wanted. I eventually accepted that I was gay, and Liam had given me a dildo in response to coming out to him, a joke I had enjoyed quite a lot since then.

"Here you go," my mom said as she put down a plate of pancakes in front of us. "Honey?"

"Mmm?"

"I want you to meet the guy I've been dating."

"Oh, the mystery man," Liam teased, making us both chuckle. 

He wasn't wrong and not only had I never seen him, but I also didn't know his name. It had been four months, so I wasn't surprised she wanted me to meet him, but I also didn't want her to make a big deal of it. I was happy for her, and I wanted to know who made her the kind of happy my dad never did. It was a nice change to see her excited and while she had never been anything but content without my dad, this was a good kind of different.

"When?" I asked.

"Monday night." 

"Okay," I said, stuffing pancake into my mouth while I wondered what he was like. 

My mom deserved the best, but I was sure she knew that herself, and she wasn't the kind of person who settled for anything less than what she deserved. 

"Do you need anything else for the hangover?"

"No, this is perfect," I mumbled, my mouth full while Liam ate too fast—I knew he was gonna throw up later, but I let him do as he pleased, only to regret it when he was bent over the toilet an hour later.

"Why didn't you stop me from drinking so much?" he asked, groaning when he leaned against the wall, letting me hand him a glass of water.

"I think I was busy with a certain someone."

"How was that anyway?"

"I don't know yet."

"Yet?"

"It's a blur, but I'm sure it'll come back to me later." 

He looked at me for another moment, closing his eyes when the nausea came back. I grimaced when he threw up again and escaped out of the bathroom before I started throwing up myself.

***

Liam went home during the afternoon. We usually spent Saturday night together, but since he was too hungover to even come out of the bathroom, it was better if he went home. I'd rather have him throw up in his own bathroom than in mine.

Last night had gradually appeared in my mind, piece by piece having left me wondering how I could forget an orgasm that good. The flirting had been more limited than I thought, Harry barely having gotten the word pretty out before I practically begged him to bring me upstairs. I had been needy, but I think it turned him on and perhaps it was easier to get into his pants than I first anticipated. Either he had been unusually horny or people were lying when they said they had to work for it. Harry didn't normally give in to anyone who wanted him, but rather those who were beautiful in the way I wasn't. But I had been pathetic enough to beg and maybe that had been enough.

I slid further down the bed and reached up to touch my lips, taking the bottom one between my fingers while I closed my eyes and imagined his lips moving against mine. I nearly stuck out my tongue as if I'd be able to feel his by doing so, the taste of alcohol exploding in my mouth despite being without it. I rolled onto my stomach instead and took ahold of my pillow, burying my face in it when I began thrusting against my mattress. I lifted my hips like I did last night, trying to make someone who wasn't there go deeper, every memory of being with Harry invading my mind so I couldn't focus on anything else. I reached under myself and tugged on my boxers enough to free my cock. I let it drag along my sheets again and again while all I could think about was being pounded into, the bruises on my hips evidence of how tight his grip had been when he did just that.

I reached behind myself to slip a hand into my boxers, easily pushing a few fingers inside myself as Harry had stretched me enough for there to be almost no resistance. It wasn't quite enough, but nothing was gonna be enough when Harry had filled me up so perfectly, pounding into me until I was seeing stars. It was him all over again, and I was embarrassed about chasing my orgasm while thinking about him, but I couldn't help it. And when I got there, I accidentally let his name slip out, my pillow muffling it while I came on the sheets like I had done last night, wondering what went through his mind when he decided to clean them.

I wondered if he thought about me the way I thought about him, but even in my wildest dreams, the answer was still gonna be no. The sex had been mind-blowing, and it had been pleasure beyond pleasure, but whether or not he felt the same was forever gonna be a mystery. The thought made me sigh in response, and it was stupid because he wasn't supposed to be more than a one-time thing, but suddenly I was worried it wasn't gonna be enough. But instead of overthinking, I closed my eyes and let myself drift off without cleaning up. I knew I'd regret it in the morning, but I was too tired to care.

A/N: The first few chapters are a bit short, but I hope that's okay.