No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way (Larry Stylinson)

No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way

Harry is well aware he should be studying or watching T.V or cleaning the kitchen or doing literally anything from a list as long as his arm instead of this, but he is. The list of reasons why he shouldn't be doing this is probably at least double that, but here he most definitely is. He's sitting on his bed, legs straight out in front of him, back propped up against the headboard and some fluffed-up pillows and his MacBook is resting on his thighs. His jittery fingers drum lightly on the edge of the keyboard as he stares at the tiny digital clock in the top right-hand corner of the screen, willing the seconds to tick by faster. He wants to get into this and get it over with in equal measures.

His torso is naked but Harry's left his joggers on, because even though no-one will see him, he feels more comfortable starting things off with a least something covering his dick. Makes him feel less seedy for some reason, as if he's bringing a sense of decorum to the proceedings. He's really not. He's also got earphones in, because the walls are thin and if his flatmate ever found out what he was doing, Harry's life would probably be over. Yeah, call him dramatic, but if any of his friends or loved ones found out exactly what he was doing, his life would most certainly be over, at least the life as he currently knows it. He had checked the door was locked three times before he even sat on the bed.

Harry would be lying if he told you he didn't know how he got to this point, because he does, all too well. It had started six months ago, when he had been randomly clicking through websites, looking for a particular style of video, with a very particular style of performer, and he happened to stumble across a page that turned his world upside down in an instant. There on the screen, in high definition no less, was the most beautiful person Harry had ever seen; 'Louis, Just Turned 18', the tagline announced him as, or as he was better know, 'LouLou28', the online cam boy.

It was like falling down the rabbit hole after that day. Harry had tried his absolute hardest not to watch him, because he knew the more he did, the more obsessed he was going to get, but he simply couldn't help himself. It was all right there, his wildest fantasies at his fingertips, only a couple of clicks away from the private safety of his bedroom. To begin with, he only watched Louis' previously recorded videos, but the temptation was too strong a tide in his gut and head and soon enough, Harry was watching the live shows too, knowing that there were probably a whole host of other men watching. That made Harry sick. The only way he could stomach the thought at all was that he reasoned to himself that none of the men were touching Louis, none of them got to really be with him, and he also reasoned that Louis had bills to pay, and if he could make a pretty penny by looking like the prettiest boy there ever was and getting himself off online, then so be it. But what Harry wouldn't do to stop it all, to have Louis all to himself. That list was positively infinite.

Harry had always known that viewers could book private sessions with particular demands, but because he didn't want to be that guy, he had never relented to the idea, choosing to stick to the public forums, tipping a few quid here and a few quid there. He was sure Louis got hundreds of private requests, he must, looking the way he does and doing the things he can do so well, but Harry dreaded to think what some of those would be. He had seen enough in the public comments section to know that Louis appealed to a wide variety of kinks.

Then, just last week, Harry got stupidly drunk on his birthday, and had stumbled home to an empty flat and thought what better way to celebrate than to put a request in and spunk a hundred quid for a one-on-one session with his dream boy. He had filled in the form through the link in Louis' profile, with a fake name and email address of course, and had sent it off into the world wide web before collapsing into a drunken stupor. When he had remembered what he had done the following day, he had checked the account and there it was, Louis' email reply telling him that he would be happy to fulfil Harry's chosen desires and giving him a list of times he was available. Harry wasn't strong enough to resist. He never had been when it came to Louis.