They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy's face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips. "Hi," he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. "Sorry. Is this okay?" The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis' waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, "Definitely." And then he kissed harder. (When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.) INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

moço, ninguém é de ferro, somos programados pra cair.