Bittersweet - Larry

14

It was pouring down when I walked home Friday afternoon and despite having gotten off at the same time as Harry, the house was empty when I got there. I could imagine he was out to get whatever he needed for the party. I hadn't been filled in until this morning when my mom told me. Harry and I were still giving each other the silent treatment, but he was getting more and more attractive. Or maybe I was just getting more and more into the idea of letting him have me, and he kept walking around in his boxers. But he hadn't told me about the party, yet apparently our parents were going out for dinner with a couple of Desmond' friends while Gemma was going out with her friends, and Sophie was looked after by their grandparents. It surprised me Harry had asked for permission when everyone else seemed to do it without their parents knowledge, but I think that was why Desmond allowed him to do it.

I grabbed a pair of boxers in my room before I went into the bathroom and got out of my soaking wet clothes. I turned on the water in the shower and waited for it to get warm before I stepped in, shivering when the water hit my cold body. I stood under the water for a few minutes before I washed my hair, accidentally letting my mind wander off. I couldn't get Harry out of my mind, and it left me painfully hard, a sigh escaping me when I wrapped a hand around my aching cock. I was lost in thoughts as I worked my hand up and down, putting the other on the wall in front of me as I imagined Harry behind me. My breathy moans turned into whimpers when I imagined him fuck me against the wall, hid abs fluttering against my back as he filled me up. I choked on a moan as I released against the wall, letting the water rinse it away while I got myself through it, everything getting back into focus when my orgasm let go of me.

I stood still for a moment before I finished showering, drying off and getting into the clean pair of boxers afterwards. I let my wet clothes hang over the edge of the bathtub so it could dry, unlocking the door and stopping when I opened it, Harry's eyes meeting mine as he looked up from his phone. He was leaning against the wall across from the bathroom, keeping quiet while he shamelessly looked me up and down.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked, knowing I hadn't bothered to keep quiet when I thought the house was empty—I must have been too distracted to hear him come home.

"Long enough," he said, scrunching up his nose to stop himself from smiling. "Zayn is showering downstairs."

"So?"

"So I wasn't listening on purpose." 

I blushed in response, the pair of boxers in his hand letting me know he was about to shower too. It was the first conversation we had had since Sunday, and I kept looking at him as if I wanted more. I did want more, but neither of us knew what that meant, so instead of leading us into an awkward situation, I left. I went downstairs and into the kitchen, getting myself a bowl of cereal before I sat down at the kitchen island. It was already filled with bottles of alcohol, red plastic cups and soda for those who didn't drink alcohol.

"I definitely need to get used to this." 

I looked at Zayn as he walked in, my presence semingly surprising to him. "That makes two of us."

"Do you like it here?"

"Harry keeps walking around in his boxers, so I'm not complaining." 

He snorted in response, looking me up and down to remind me I wasn't wearing anything but boxers myself. "He talks about you a lot, you know?"

"He does?"

"Yes."

"What does he say?"

"A week ago he talked about your ass," he says. "And yesterday he talked about your eyes."