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Come to Me

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Louis walked into the cavernous like building, a bright and arresting nightclub pinpointed off the pleasant countryside of the Golden Triangle.

As he entered the lounge the intermixed stench of smoke and sweaty bodies abruptly assaulted his nostrils as he inhaled deeply.

Tomorrow's his first day of Uni at Woodland University and after that his part-time job as a journalist with London weekly.

Now you might be asking yourself, 'Louis, why are you out clubbing on a bloody Sunday night when you've got all this important shit to do tomorrow?' or 'Wouldn't it have been logical to of just stayed home to get some much needed rest for your big day tomorrow morning instead of going to some nightclub to get drunk off your arse?' oh, oh or 'How could you have made such a blunder, for shame Louis... for shame!'

In which my answer to said questions would simply have been, yolo my fellow lads and birds.


Besides tonight wasn't Louis' idea to go clubbing.

No, his plan was to worry himself to sleep with thoughts of tomorrow's big events.

But that plan went straight out the window when best mates Oli, Calvin, and Stan suggest going out clubbing to celebrate the lads first day as a university freshman.

"Where the hell are those nobs I call friends in this damned club!" he thought. Pushing his small frame through the pulsating horde of bodies.

Finally finding his way to an empty barstool in the far corner of the shadowy room. Immediately spotting Stan coming his way.

Two figures following closely behind. A slight totter in their stride.

"Jesus Stan did'ya spike their drinks when they weren't lookin or somethin'ya menace you!" Glacier eyes chuckles. Elbowing Stan who gives a small leer.

Seeing as Louis' giggling Oli & Calvin immediately follow in suit.

Laughing along, completely oblivious to the fact that Louis is laughing at them not with them.

Those poor, poor non sober boys.

"They literally had two beers and a screwdriver!" Stan huffs. Crossing broad arms over his chest.

"Fucking weak I tell'ya." he remarks with a shake of his head.

"Lightweights, aye?" Louis chirps. Leaping onto his feet, with not an ounce of difficulty might I add, sadistically clapping the two drunkards on their back. "Lets get plastered, yeah!" a chorus of hell yeahs being shouted not a second later as the crew of imbeciles bound towards the dance floor.

But... not before tumbling to the ground with a loud thud due to Oli and Cal's weight leaning against the smaller lad. A tittering Stan silently following behind his three idiot friends.

Two hours of filthy dancing and several random contacts later, Louis has already consumed two Jack Daniels (on the rocks), a Gin and Tonic, and now in his hand a fuzzy navel.

Louis eyed the amber liquid and the golden glow of the glass-like cubes.

He poked them with his perfectly manicured nail to hear them jingle in the pre-dawn silence. He watched, entranced, as they bounce back up- remaining mostly submerged like mini icebergs.

Wrapping his semi-long fingers around the glass, he felt his heat leach into the drink.

Alcohol. The elixir of his life. He raised the glass to sip, feeling the keen burn on his tongue and throat- a burn that made him recoil as a boy.

Yet now it was a feeling he longed for right from the being of his life forever altering.

Louis lowered the glass to the table, letting it fall heavily, but not so much it spilt.

He rested his head in his left hand, still mesmerized by the fluid, only now he observed the sticky clear substance on the rim. One day he'd remember to wipe his face clean first before going out to get hammered...

He sits at the bar taking his third sip from the icy, cold, slightly sweet and tangy drink.

Holding the glass against thin pink lips as his body trembles. Inkling a keen gaze.

Someone's checking him out. Sizing him up. Trying to make eye contact.

But Louis would be damned if whoever this person may be thinks he'd even spare them a glance without them working for said attention.

Now don't get him wrong.

Louis' not some snotty-like, conceited person. No;

he's your average male specimen, who just so happens to like playing the ever so popular game of hard to get.

Making people crave... I mean work for his attention.

The sudden feel of firm hands slowly positioning themselves around a slim waist, causes the blue eyed beauty to jerk at the sweet sensation of such strong palms.

Upper body pivoting, eyes locking in on amber-like irises.

There was only one word to describe the sun-kissed Grecian.

Where his eyes were the green of fresh dew glinting in the sunlight off a leaf of green emerald. His lips were pale and thin and his nose slender and rounded. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen.

He was an Adonis among the other men who each pale in comparison.

One look and both men and women alike swooned at the sight of him no matter their sexual preferences. Why just one word passed from his lips had even the straightest of men flushing shades of red that no one ever knew was naturally possible. Adonis.


*Louis Pov*


God, there were no words that could sum up the intense wave of emotions this man filled me with.

The ample passions arrived unannounced and ended explosively, like cobalt bombs.

Lechery without a doubt hitting me the hardest and, 'oh just fuck me stiff in a dark corner plea-'

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when those sinful hands fall from prominent hips to move across the front pockets of navy blue skinny jeans.

Their absence causing the hairs on the back of my neck to bristle along with the small hairs on my arms; despite me wearing a jacket in this sweltering heat.

"Accompany me to the dance floor, love?" the vision asks the question smoothly.

The baritone of his voice reverberating through my bones as Adonis slides a strong arm over his shoulders.

The low rumble of his voice is comforting as it wraps around me. Carrying me off to a world where sound is the power that could change any & everything in the world.

I squeak. Flushing lightly when I noticed that the dreamboat was waiting for an answer.

''I'm fine.'' I pipe. The chuckle that counters is that soft, rolling thunder that billows across the dark skies on a stormy night.

Visibly do I begin to tremble with want, making the leer he wore even more prominent.

In his arrogant triumph, he smirked- just a small pouting of the lips; a narrowing of the eyes and a tilting of the head. It was so subtle.

It was even more infuriating for me who caught a glimpse of it after making the foolish mistake.

Oh you think I'm going to be easy don't you, you sexy asshole. Well;

your in for quite the shock, love.

"If you hadn't already noticed, you'd have seen that I'm currently accompanying my drink." I speak, tone bored and dry.

"Now please, run along.'' I sassily remark.

Eyes not once straying from my drink whilst I wave my hand about in a ta-ta motion. ''Your ruining our time together." I huff, feigning annoyance.

Adonis quirks a perfectly arched brow at my words.

Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Like he's never had anyone deny him. Ever.

"So you're gonna ditch me... for a bevvy?" he asks dumbfounded and dammit he still looks hot as fuck! Speaking of fuck-

I roll my eyes at the oh so vivid thoughts swirling about in my head. "Actually, it's a fuzzy navel." I speak pretending as though I've not taken not even an ounce of interest in the conversation we're currently having.

But god knows I am interested in something...

His eyes shift to my beverage, looking as though genuinely keen in my drink of choice. Even though we both know he isn't the slightest bit, he regards.

"Oh, is it now." He drawls, cocking his head to the side.

Shamefully displaying that sinful grin as he seductively inquires,

"Mind if I have a sip?" He submits. Biting at sultry lips. 

'Hell yes!' my brain yells at the same time I shout, "Hell no!" Promptly feeling the heat thats steadily creeping onto my features as several heads turn my way. Silently judging no doubt.

"Why?" he queries. Shoulders slumped and eyes cast down in a mournful gaze. His mouth was set in a semi pout, as brawny limbs crossover an barrel-chested Adonis.

The action reminding me of a petulant child when his mom denies him of a toy from the grocery market. Damn he must have been one hell of a kid!  Well,

now I feel as though I'm committing a crime.

"Your a stranger." I retort at his stupidity. Clearly stating the obvious.

"No I'm not!'' he counters. Feigning hurt. ''I mean you can't just talk to a random person... that's weird!" Adonis shrieks. Almost causing me to break into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Well fuck,

Sexy and riotous.

What is this witchery? !

"Well you are in my book.'' I pipe, tittering some.

Figuring I'd give Adonis- Apollo (that's the name I've decided to give him) a little mercy so we can do the do already.

"I am no stranger." Apollo states, though less confident than last.

"Are too." I childishly counter. Smiling if only just a tad bit at the sudden change in behavior. But I speak not of it as,

Kicking at the marble flooring he whines, "Am. Not." he counters. Scuffing up his loafers in the process.

"Yes." comes my frivolous reply.

Are we seriously doing this now? I question myself, getting a bit weirded out by the sudden turn of events.

"No!" he mocks with clenched fists.

"Yes!" I rasp, getting a little-

"Love it when you moan for me, Cupcake." he grunts. Leaning into my seated form. And,

okay does this guy have some type of personality disorder I should know about or what. Because I don't think I can keep up with this back and forth shit.

And "Cupcake?" Who the hell nicknames a person Cupcake? What is he a-

"It's a sweet name to call a yummy guy." he simpers. Slowly but surely inching closer and closer to my small frame until he's positioned directly in front of me.

"Don't you think, Sweetheart?"

I'm having an even harder time trying to suppress the blush that's threatening to surface.

I'm at a lost for words as I make an attempt at turning my head to the side.

Trying oh so desperately to avert my gaze; but the sudden rosiness of my cheeks no doubt gives me away.

This is the first time something like this has ever happened to me. Louis fucking Tomlinson!

"We-well, uh... I-i think-" I don't have a comeback for that and I'm shuddering.

Shit like this just doesn't happen to the Tommo! Oh he's so gonna-

The feeling of colossal- tepid palms lightly caressing over prominent cheekbones, snaps me out of my murderous daze.

I make a puerile attempt of swatting at beefy fists. 

Blushing would have been no problem, but what I did was go as red as a beetroot and radiate heat like a hot pan. You could have cooked a three course meal on my face.

No one could have missed it.

I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. God, I'm such an embarrassment.

"Since you don't seem like the pet name... mind telling me your name, love.'' he asks.

Tracing small patterns onto succulent thighs. And for the life of me, I couldn't think. 

''Seeing as I don't plan on us being strangers much longer."

And in that split second, all I could do was blink at the hunk of a man, as he repeated said question once more.

"What's your name, doll?" and if those four letters weren’t what left me feeling light-headed; then I don't know the cause.

My mind turned into absolute mush.

Thoughts. Wordings.

I could neither perceive nor process the correct phraseology even if my life were on the line.

My Apollo does nothing. Patiently awaiting a rejoinder. But as luck would have it,

It would appear that I've seemed to have forgotten my own bloody name!

The same name I've been using since birth, 19 years ago.

Oh come on Boobear think of a name. Think of a bloody name, the voices bellow against one another. Notions spiraling. Think of "Gr- gretchen!" I shout.

Causing a few bar patrons to turn their viewings in our direction yet again.

The blush I so desperately tried to keep at bay begins to surface.

'Gretchen Louis... Gretchen! Thats the best you could do you imbecile. If we don't end up with his cock up our ass later tonight it's all your fault!', my inner thoughts scream. And they're right.

"Gretchen?" Apollo smirks.

"All the names in the world. Out there, ready for the taking, and you chose Gretchen.”

"What do you think this is? A Pokémon battle? That's my name ya'know. Me mom & dad thought I'd be a girl; so they stuck with that." I pout with narrowed eyes. Red in the face.

"Besides there's like, millions of Gretchen's out there."

"Yeah like the lunch lady from my old high school days." Apollo murmurs.

A far away look appears at his features. Not a second later his face contorts into that of complete and utter horror. Then he's having a full blown cringe attack. And at that I lose it, erupting in a fit of giggles.

Okay, Hercules. I'll admit you've caught me hook line and sinker.

Now lets cut the games and chit-chat, so you can fuck me stiff in one of the bathroom stalls, pretty please!