“Oh come on!” two girls whined pulling the curly haired boy by the arms. “We can’t go alone, it’ll be too obvious!”
He shook his head, curls flopping down on his face, already knowing he will soon surrender as he really was the type of person wanting to please everyone around him.
“I don’t like football” he replied, having always found the sport dull and the general fascination with it not logical.
“Neither do I, but we’re not gonna watch football” says the redhead smirking dirtily. She always was a fan of sports players, rather than sports, a thought he actually agreed with.
“Do you ever think of anything else?” he asked chuckling as she shook her head. The brunette kissed his cheek with a loud sound, puppy eyes in place, and if anyone could pull off such a look, adorned with a pout, it was her. It was really unfair of his friends to be so persuasive, to always drag him to places he would in the end enjoy, but right now he really wasn’t feeling too ‘sociable’.
“Yeah, you’re finally gonna get laid!” the redhead smiled, smacking him on the bum and making him groan.
“Excuse me, how about Monday?” he said, seeming offended.
“Doesn’t count”, the brunette replied surely, “you were drunk and he was sooo easy”
He just rolled his eyes. How the hell did he end up with such annoyingly endearing friends he had no idea. Tam and Mill were crazy, no way around it, the girls always dragging him to the most ridiculous parties, making him film stupid videos, dressing him up as a girl and so on, and so forth. Yet, he knew that deep down they always noticed when he got into one of his moods, cranky and cut off from the world. They were just looking out for him and he had to admit it was nice that he had someone like that.
He left the girls to change, or more like put on some clothes since he was just in his underwear, and take off all of his horrid make up. He never got why they put so much make up on him when he does a photo shoot, it made no sense, since he knows he looks good either way, if the tent in the photographer’s trousers is anything to go by. He smirked to himself knowing the effect he has on people, using it to his advantage most of the time, although at times it does tend to get annoying, having people swarm you like flies wherever you went.
He was just pulling on his worn out boots when the door opened to the same girl from the shoot, still in her lacy underwear wearing a dark smokey eye.
“Hey, Harry” she smiled seductively sitting next to him and crossing her legs.
“Hey, Cara” He replied hastily, trying to end this as soon as possible before the dynamic duo returned.
“I thought that maybe we could continue this photo shoot somewhere more private” she said touching his arm. He looked her up and down, although he did swing both ways, he usually preferred men, who were less delicate and didn’t need a cuddle after certain activities. Also he really needed to go.
“Sorry, I keep my private and work life separate, nice working with you, though” he winked just for good measure and went out.
Tam and Mill were laughing like rabid hyenas, imitating his voice with stupid facial expressions.
“Harry Styles trying to be professional” Mil said wiping imaginary tears from the corner of her eye.
“It wouldn’t be funny if you weren’t such a slag” Tam added, coughing from laughing so hard. Give it up to her to choke on air, the only person he knew clumsier than himself.
“Don’t offend me or you’ll have to hang out with Zayn instead.” He teased knowing that there was no way that the girls would be able to convince his best friend to watch a sports game with them. He despised sport and generally leaving the house on a gloomy weekend. He was probably at home painting, making a right mess out of their living room. But Harry never minded, loved having the company, the flat they shared way too big for one person anyways.
The girls both start whining exaggeratedly, as if they just stepped out of a highschool movie.
“Noooooooo, you’re our GBF!” they said in unison, which sounded creepy even though he was used to it by now.
“I’m not gay, I’m bi, and I am not your best friend, I hate you” he replied, fake glaring at them, not meaning the last part of course.
“You love us, you know you do” they both hugged him briefly before pulling away, forcing a smile on his otherwise expressionless face.
“And now I’m gonna get all of ya laid!” the redhead pronounced loudly, being random as usual, her train of thought unknown to those around her. Both heads snapped at her speaking heatedly one after the other. “Tam, you’re not getting anyone laid, you’re horrible at it!”, “Stop setting people up!” “And stop spying and plotting!”
“Fine” she stormed off, playing offended.
“I always told her to stay in drama, but for some reason she thinks that modeling is more for her.” Mill declares, putting on her sunglasses as they go outside to Harry’s car snatching his keys yelling “Thank you come again” in an Indian accent (they may have had a Harold and Kumar marathon two days ago) as she flees.
As Harry catches up with them they are both already sitting in his Ferrari, blasting loud music and backing out. He jumps in the back seat yelling something about his brand new paint job, custom parts and bad parking skills. Ignoring him, as always, Mill goes swiftly to The Crib, the place where the two girls live, a lovely new yet old looking building, their flat on the highest level, a bit smaller than his and Zayn’s but somehow cozier. Their couch felt much better than Harry’s own, having spent so many nights crashing there after a particularly rousing party.
“Pick us up at 6, the match starts at 8, we got VIP tickets, closest to the field” Mill declared as Tam added “Closest to the players you mean?”
“Don’t be late, again” he warned, sitting back to his usual spot, frowning when he sees it’s moved so he can hardly fit his legs. No one understood how hard it was to be so tall, his gangly legs rarely fitting anywhere.
He went to his flat, to a massive mess waiting for him, as always, frowning at what appears to be wet paint on the floor.
“Zaaaaaaaaaaayn” he yelled. An equally messy figure came into view, somehow maintaining his perfect quiff, defying gravity, the rules of nature, rational thinking, such things.
“I’ll clean it up Hazza, I promise, I was suddenly inspired”. One glance at the pictures of a good looking girl told him everything he needed to know.
“What must have inspired you Zaynie, it can’t be the blonde that just moved in next door?”
Zayn just stared at him and replied “How’d ya know?”
“Saw her on my way to work, I say go for it” he said smirking, picking up some of the mess on the living room floor, or as Z calls it “The Atelier” since he always uses it for his art, the reasons not really known to Harry, something about feng shui, the way the light falls naturally through the windows and other nonsense.
“Plus, you have the place to yourself, I’m going off to a ManU game” he proudly said, wondering what he should wear. What was appropriate attire for a football game anyways?
“Since when do you like football?” Zayn asked going behind the counter separating the kitchen and the living room turning on the espresso machine he got for his birthday from the girls. It really made a difference in their lives since Zayn without his morning coffee really wasn’t a person anyone wanted to deal with. At least now it was faster to get him out of bed, some days he even made coffee for himself.
“I don’t, but the devils are dragging me, something about fit blokes in tiny shorts, how could I possibly say no” he smiled innocently.
“Always on the pray” Zayn replied laughing while searching for the mugs.
“I’ll text you if we go to a party of some sorts after”
“A party with those wackos? Well I’m not drinking, that’s for sure. The last time I got wasted I woke up barefoot with a banana glued to my chest, in suspenders, on the fountain in the university square, the paps fucking filmed me like that!” Zayn screeched, almost girl like, the big question on his mind always being what the hell happened that night he was foolish enough to play a drinking game with people whose capacities for alcohol were much higher than his own.
“That’s what you get for challenging them to a drinking contest, you know how well they hold their liquor.” Harry said going in to grab some coffee for himself, not that he liked the taste, but he was feeling slightly tired, having had a restless night.
“How was the photoshoot for that fragrance?” Zayn asked sipping on the hot coffee.
“Who’d ya work with?”
“Oh, she’s hot” Zayn exclaims “But a bit crazy”
“I know, that’s why I turned her down, we don’t need another Taylor anytime soon”
“Damn, that girl was creepy” Zayn shook his head, remembering the letters he found in front of their door. He had no idea who even sent letters in the 21st century but the contents of those made him shiver, the texts raging from explicit to threats and curses. Harry always was a heart breaker, but some people just took it harder than others.
“Tell me about it. Anyway, speaking of creepy the guy who filmed us had a fancy name, like Alexander or some sorts” Harry rolled his eyes at the memory of the too-scruffy-to-be-considered-hip photographer.
“Oh I don’t like him, always gives me the creepy eyes when I’m in my underwear”
“That’s cause he’s a creep, and also gay.”
“Your gaydar is as bad as always I see”
“Well, I haven’t figured you out until I found you making out with Nick on that party at Niall’s. He’s sooo old Harry, I still don’t know what came over you” Zayn said remembering the radio presenter, with a quiff not even dignified to be compared to his.
“I was bored, and everyone was sooo straight it hurt my eyes” Harry exclaimed, putting the mug in the sink, having finished it. “I gotta get ready, clean this mess” he said going into his room, jumping over the pile on the floor.
He pulled up to the apartment complex while putting on some descent music for a change (it’s not his fault everyone around him listens to pop). Putting the speed dial on 4 and seeing that yet again the names in his phone had been changed, the name now reading Bloom with a picture of the fairy named the same way (he might have caved in one night when Zayn was stoned and wanted to watch 10 episodes of Winx with the girls). “We’ll be down in 5 care bear” Tam yelled and hung up.
It was more like 20, but they’re down, in jeans, sequined tops and flats for a change, but carrying a big bag, a change of outfit he presumes. The girls hopped into his sleek car, not one yelling shot gun, sitting in the back as they like to be together all the time (girls and their antics). Harry shook his head as he drove off with practiced ease, always being the designated driver of the group.
Upon arrival, they saw a massive crowd, all going to this match, or was it called a game? Harry wasn’t quite sure, but then again he really couldn’t care less. As they exit the car, both girls hooked their arms around his (they always played up the whole Hugh Hefner posing with his bunnies look that the paps loved). After passing through the crowd they entered the stadium, a tall guy wearing all black escorted them to their seats, through a lonely passageway. Their seats were directly in front of the field, signaling that this was going to be a fun evening.
Half an hour later, the players were coming out, running to the field in their lovely attire. As they take their positions and the crowd chants, Harry hears someone whispering in his ear “We need your skills” Mill says smiling innocently to hide her dirty thoughts.
As the game started, Harry stared at all the guys passing them, saying gay, straight, in denial and so on. As one particular guy passed him he licked his lips, a devilish smirk forming as he slowly and deeper than usual said “Gay”. The guy is short, and curvy, somehow tiny but still adorned with thick thighs and just the right amount of muscle. He has striking blue eyes, and the softest feathery caramel hair. But that isn’t what Harry notices first, oh no. Not even the huge number 17 is what catches his eye, nope. It’s the way he leans for a ball that just went out of the field, picking it up, his ass sticking out right in front of Harry’s face, the most amazing ass he’s seen on a man, plump and round. Harry feels caught in some wet dream, imagining things which are far from descent. As the attractive man throws the ball, he looks behind himself for a second, seeing Harry’s hungry gaze, his blue eyes sinking into Harry’s emerald orbs.
He can’t seem to look away until someone yells “Tomlinson” and he hurries off after the ball.
“Tomlinson” rolls of Harry’s tongue, his night seeming much more interesting now. He loved a conquest, and he had just acquired his target. He was determined to have a companion with him tonight, someone whose eyes matched the bedding in his room. Someone who looked like he was loud in bed.
Louis heard the whistle of the judge indicating it was half time. Scurrying off to their room the players swiftly changed their already sweaty clothes. As Louis was putting a fresh shirt on, a wet sticky piece of fabric hit him on the back.
“Staaaan” Louis whined, already knowing he was the one behind the shenanigans.
“Shut it Tommo, we have some important stuff to discuss” Stan said placing the wet shirt on his shoulders, staring at Louis without even blinking.
“Such as…?” Louis asks finally dressed.
“Such as our guests” he exclaimed, and at Louis’ confused face continues “the models sitting in front row?”
“Oh really” Louis says nonchalantly, trying to hide how intrigued he was by those deep green eyes that stared him down. He felt almost naked under the intense gaze, like the man was waiting to just eat him up.
“Yeah, you have to know who Harry Styles is” he says frantically moving his hands as to gesture how big of a deal this was “he is one of the best male models in Britain, has contracts with the top designers, mostly models in his underwear”.
“And who are the birds next to him?” Josh jumps in, showing Stan that everyone has his full attention.
“Also models, his best friends, Tamara and Millie, both single. I heard Tam, the redhead, is a big fan of sports players” Stan says seeing the excitement of the guys raise, hoping no one would question how he knew all that, gossip magazines being his guilty pleasure. Looking at Louis again he exclaims:
“He’s bi by the way”. As soon as the words are out of his mouth Louis’ head snaps with such an intensity he could actually hear his neck crack. His best friend had a tendency of trying to hook him up with a lot of guys, most of which he disliked, but this one really was the most attractive man he had ever seen. Although Louis was always wary of the attractive guys, knowing full well that they mostly had the worse character.
“Party tonight then?” George says smiling widely, pinching Louis by the bum and running off outside.
“Get a move on ladies!” coach Paul yelled and they all rushed out the door before he went in and wreaked havoc on the locker room.
Two whistles sounded, signaling the game was over. The score is 3:2 for Manchester United, a solid win as they were in the lead for the past half hour. The crowd went wild with cheers and boos respectively, but the three friends had other things on their mind.
“So whose turn is it?” says Harry staring at the girls. They always did this, invited themselves to exclusive parties, events and such. It wasn’t really so much as inviting yourself as it was flirting a bit with someone ‘till they invited you. It was a well practiced art among the friend group.
“Um, I guess it’s mine” said Millie, and just as she was about to stand up, a cheeky guy approached them.
He has deer brown eyes, high cheekbones and curly hair, similar to Harry’s. He leans forward and says to them “We’re having a party at Sin tonight to celebrate, I hope you can join us” he winks and hurries off after his team.
The trio just looked at each other and smiled, Harry sending a short text to Zayn. His phone flashing the name Diego and a picture of a tiger from Ice Age looking scared of the water. He had to laugh, that was a good one.
They arrive to the club, having changed shoes and fixed hairstyles. He might be a guy, but if Harry’s learned anything in the modeling business it’s that appearance is key, and he always keeps to his good looks.
Zayn is already standing outside, dark jeans and a black shirt on, leaning on the wall smoking a cigarette. Upon seeing the group he puts it out, approaching the car opening the door for the girls. “Have you been waiting long?” Mill asked, ever the polite one.
“Nope, just arrived.” He lied, as to not seem so desperate, he was really looking forward to going out.
They enter the half full club, jumping the line as soon as Harry shakes the bouncer’s hand.
“How do you know so many people?” Tam asked eyes darting to a nicely located table in the middle of the club, easy for spotting anyone going in, dancing or going to the bathroom. As a blonde starts walking to the table, Tam grabs Zayn by the arm pulling him with full force to the table smiling at the bad copy of a Barbie doll in front of her. She makes an angry face, careful not to ruin the three tons of make up on her face as she goes to a different table.
“Territorial, much?” Harry exclaims laughing.
“I like this table” she says letting a shocked Zayn go. “Needed a human shield, just in case” she says to Zayn smiling wickedly.
The waiter comes by, to take their orders. Before they even get to say a thing Mill whispers to the waiter “Red wine, your best, and tequila. They don’t know what’s good for them”. He just laughs and goes off.
“If you ordered vodka again I’m leaving this instant” says Zayn, half joking, half serious, remembering the incident. The waiter springs by opening the bottles, handing them their glasses and winking at Mill as he goes back to the bar.
“Tequila shots!” jumps Tam pouring them each a glass, making sure not to spill anything and still spilling a lot. “To sexy football players” says Harry lifting his glass “and hot girls” adds Zayn and they all drink a shot.
Next round they drink to themselves, to stay fabulous of course. Then to their careers and dreams. Somehow they end up drinking to Mill’s cat back home, a Korean series, pizza and their otps. Just as they were starting to feel delightfully buzzed, the door opens and in come the players. Harry waiting for that one player that intrigued him the most.
He looks edible, tight black pants hugging perfectly to his lovely ass, a tight white shirt and TOMS on his feet. His hair in the perfect quiff, strong jaw line and cheekbones prominent under the flashing lights of the club. A guy’s arm on his shoulders, a friend Harry supposes, he doesn’t look nearly as good enough for his new conquest.
Harry excuses himself, sits on a stool at the bar where he has a better look of the curvy guy he will soon mark as his own.
“Looks like kitty found a mouse to play with” said Tam to Zayn signaling to Harry staring directly at a very good-looking guy, definitely his type. Harry loved put together guys, a bit shy, shorter than him and with nice smiles. This one seemed to possess every trait required.
“He always does” replied Zayn amused by Harry’s behavior.
As they weren’t looking they don’t notice the guy that just came over and is talking to Mill. Tam turns and eyes the guy head to toe. He has tight brown pants, a half-unbuttoned shirt, boots on his feet, and side swept hair. She pulls Mill by the arm whispering into her ear “I bring you to a place full of athletes and you go for an artistic guy, again? I thought we talked about this?!” she just smiles, shrugs and is off to dance with said guy.
“Seems like it’s just you and me Z” she says seeming defeated.
“What’s wrong with artistic guys?” he asks his smile now barely visible.
“Oh don’t take it to heart, I just always tell her to get an athlete, they’re just…” she drifts off, signaling something with her hand..
“Anyways, how’s your art going?” at this Zayn’s spirits lift
“Great, I have a meeting with some gallery owner on Thursday, hope I do well.”
“That’s amazing Zaynie” she tells him, stroking his arm. He melts into the touch, loving the attention.
“Hahaha, thanks” Zayn nods and continues “And your designs?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I have a new contract, gonna make some shit for some fancy stores stuff like that” she says as if it’s not a big deal.
“Told you, you were good! “ Zayn says seeing that she isn’t listening. Instead Tam was exchanging looks with a very muscular guy across the room, no doubt a football player.
“Make yourself scarce”
“Go Zayn, we’ll talk later” she smiles, as the guy slowly approaches the table.
“He’s been staring at you for a while” Liam said to Louis sounding worried. Liam was one of Louis’ best friends, his trainer, who is also a boxer. He was always worried about Louis protecting him like a guard dog.
“I’ve noticed” expressed Louis looking back at the tall curly haired guy, dressed completely in black, his lips filthily around a bottle of dark liquid, sitting in the shadows of the bar. His green eyes shining brightly, making him look like a black cat lurking at night, stalking its prey.
“You should stay away from him Lou” Liam warned, sounding like a worried mother. “I see him at the gym all the time, he changes partners faster than socks. He’s such a player. And I heard he gets like really territorial and violent”. He didn’t want to see his friend get hurt again, and he knew this type of guys. Guys who went after whoever they wanted until they got them, growing tired a second later, and finding someone new to seduce.
Not taking his eyes off Harry, Louis answered: “Don’t worry mom, I’m not an idiot. I’ve learned my lesson the last time.” Louis cringes as he finishes the sentence, not wanting to think about his past experiences.
Zayn left the table and went to sit by Harry at the bar. He ordered three of the strongest drinks they have, receiving a confused look by Harry as he actually took notice of his presence, something he rarely does during his mating dance. Harry took seduction as a very serious sport, and he definitely was a professional at it.
“Everything fine Z?” he asked as Zayn downed three shots in quick succession.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just looking for a nice girl to fuck” he answered his words slightly slurred, his throat aching from the burning sensation he just ingested. He rarely talked in such a way, rarely being the type to just not care, but sometimes he needed a release. He needed to stop thinking altogether.
“Usually those girls aren’t nice Zaynie boy” Harry replied laughing. “10 o’clock, an 8 by my estimate, looks desperate”.
Zayn barely looked up answering with a not very enthusiastic “Yeah, I’ll get right to it”.
As Harry turns his head before Zayn’s answer, he spots a guy going in his prey’s direction. He sends him a look of warning, claiming his territory as the guy backs off. Harry jumps off the stool and goes slowly towards the man who hasn’t taken his eyes off him for what feels like hours.
“…and I don’t know what to do…Harry?” Zayn continues turning in his stool seeing Harry had decided to take action. He stands up, fed up with his “friends” leaving him like that, their ‘love lives’ always more important. Every time they went out the same thing happened, everyone scouring off to different side of the same club. He huffs before going over to the blonde girl standing at a nearby table.
Harry stands in front of the much shorter man as he puts his drink down slowly looking at Harry slightly shy and taken aback by the sudden approach, his eyes seeming even more blue in the club lights. Without a word Harry grabs his hand dragging him to the dance floor passing his two best friends dancing together with some guys, barely noticing anything but the small hand in his, feeling the boy follow him without any restraint. Louis is confused, not used to such a sudden approach, someone so openly into him. He never thought himself unattractive per se, but he wasn’t in his eyes a man who got much attention. He was too small and delicate, snarky and surrounded by too much drama.
“This is just too easy” Harry said to himself, smirking as he turned around suddenly, letting go of the curvy guy’s hand, who bumped into him unready for such sudden movement.
Harry catches him, keeping his hands on the boy’s waist, pinning him close and starts dancing. The shorter guy freezes, and then starts slowly moving with Harry, his heart beating violently where it’s pressed to Harry’s strong chest. Harry’s head goes slowly down to his ear, his lips brushing it lightly. “Harry”.
Louis shudders at the deep voice resonating in his ear, the tingling sensations travelling from his ear to where the long slim fingers are holding him in place. The movement of Harry’s hips grinding slowly down on Louis’ groin. He feels so hot, like he’s on fire, his senses in overdrive. He inhales deeply trying to breathe normally after holding his breath for so long, breathing in the scent of pure lust.
“Louis” he manages to say. He has no idea how he even remembered his own name. All he can think is lips and fingers, and hips and those piercing green eyes, his mind screaming Harry over and over again. Louis’s not sure if it’s a warning or a plea. His lips feel so dry, like a gallon of water wouldn’t be enough to clench his thirst. He feels intoxicated by the stranger, who despite Liam’s warnings seems way too appealing to get away from. It’s not often he feels so mesmerized by someone, but then again this Harry didn’t really fit into a mould. He seemed unique, which was odd since Louis basically only knew his name.
“Louis” Harry repeats in his ear, practically moaning out his name. “Oh how good that would sound in bed” Louis thinks, picturing those long fingers pinning him down, his breath on his face, their bodies melting together in heat, and sweat.
He feels one of Harry’s hands going slowly up his torso, touching his chin, lifting it up slowly. Under the lights he sees just how beautiful his hunter looks. White pale skin, radiating in the dark that surrounds him, piercing green eyes, staring at him, his pupils mildly dilated. His slightly crooked smile leaving dimples on his cheeks, also showing off a bright row of teeth. But his lips are what pulls him in the most, so plump, and red, as if he was wearing lipgloss, the colour inhumanely beautiful. Lips made for sin, lips made for kisses and blowjobs, made for leaving marks in their wake. Harry bites his lip, loving the attention Louis was paying to his mouth, loving how responsive the man was.
Harry’s gaze drifts down, tracing Louis’ beautiful facial features. His finger slowly goes over Louis’ bottom lip. As it rests back on Louis’ chin, Louis licks his lips involuntarily. He sees Harry going closer, seconds seem like minutes as their lips touch sending electricity through their bodies. Harry’s lips are barely there, just resting on Louis’. They begin to move, adding more pressure, a tongue poking at Louis’ awaiting mouth tracing it slowly. Harry’s tongue rubs Louis’ in the most soothing way, his hand increasing its hold around his waist. The other traveling to his hair pulling him back slightly to plant a hot kiss to his neck, along his jaw and just below his ear where he sucks lightly, biting the tanned skin.
Louis gasps shuddering, feeling his blood boil. He jumps from Harry’s almost painful grip blurting out “I have to go” and walks so quickly he might as well be running outside, his legs barely working, feeling constricted in his pants. He needed to stop, whatever this was and however hot he felt, he knew not to trust someone like that. Knew not to fall head first into a bed he will be kicked out of before the sun rises.
Harry just stares amused at the fleeing figure, knowing this is not the last time he sees the brunette he marked as his own.
“Louis” he whispers to himself.
Harry pulled up in front of The Bachelor Pad, grabbed his things and entered the flat. As soon as he got in he heard very loud girlish moans. Going to the bathroom he passed the sounds, the screams sounding more like words, actually only one word. On his way back he heard “You’re amazing” so he had to of course scream as loud as he could “Amazayn!” and went to his room.
The screams continued for quite a while so in the end he put on his headphones and played some no name indie song from his phone. After about half an hour his phone rang signaling that a Blowfish was calling him. “blowfish” he thought and chuckled answering it.
“Knew you’d love that one!” says Mill, he knows she’s smirking even through her voice. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be doing some of those Canadian sex positions we talked about, right about now?”
“I was tired so I went home” he lied.
“Mhm” the answer came, Mill had obviously known the reason, but knew not to press further. She noticed the fascination Harry had with a certain someone, how he was obviously very much into the man who walked out on him. So she let it go. Harry, when he doesn’t get what he wants, he can be really, well, childlike, toddlers and tiara’s child like.
“Sooo, we wanted you and Z to come to ours after work tomorrow – we’re hosting The Triathlon”
“I’m not in the mood” says Harry while pouting.
“Come on Haz, if you agree you’re gonna get a prize, and trust me it will be one you like a lot”
“Yeeeeah, night care bear”
“Night” he says shortly and hangs up not believing he agreed to one of these, and agreed to dragging Zayn with him. Zayn definitely wasn’t in his element. Actually as Harry thinks of it he really wasn’t in his element. He mostly just didn’t care about anything happening around him, he rarely got so moody and…
Harry’s phone vibrated. He received a new message from princess Ariel.
It read “You owe me one Curly! :P” and next to it was a number. He knew exactly whose number it was, it had to be him. She really did love setting people up, which is sort of strange because she always says that she doesn’t do love, whatever that meant.
He saved the number, pondering whether he should send a message. After about 15 minutes of pondering he slapped himself thinking “Harry, you’re not a 13-year-old girl, what’s wrong with you?” sending a short “No fair, Cinderella left a shoe, and I got nothing” (rechecking the sentence three times).
He smiled thinking of the man, hardly able to wait until he finished what he started. He heard the door to the apartment close and then he was fast asleep.
“Why do you keep checking your phone, it’s not gonna make time pass any faster” Zayn said rather cranky. They were sitting on the couch waiting for a photographer to call them. Zayn was feeling too hot in his leather jacket even though he had nothing underneath.
“I’m not” Harry answers putting his phone down. He was wearing a very deep v-neck and same black jeans as Zayn, they were doing some sort of sexy rock style shoot and were waiting for the set to be ready. Honestly it was all the same to him, the various photoshoots and faces all melting into one.
“Come on guys” said Alexander, eyeing them and smiling his creepy smile. There was a car in the middle of the shoot, bright red, in front of a black screen.
“So guys remember we are trying to sell a Eau de toilette” he said in a bad French accent. “It’s all about sexy dark guys leaning on sexy cars, it’s going to look fierce!”
They both roll their eyes taking their positions, leaning on the car, switching poses.
“Okay, now I want to see some heat, flirting, touching, the lot” he says sounding a bit out of breath.
Zayn looks at Harry confused. Harry gives him back an I-got-this look as he leans towards him, looking down into his lips, biting his own. The photographer just keeps snapping at an alarming speed.
Zayn gets fed up with Harry thinking he’s top dog, and pushes him on the hood of the car, grabbing his arms pinning them above his head. He whispers into Harry’s ear “You’re not as hot as you think Styles”. Alexander makes an inhumane sound as he says heavily breathing: “Yeah, just like that, look like you’re seconds from having sex on the car”.
At this the boys exchange a look and Zayn lets Harry go. He hops off the hood and they smile curtly to the now red photographer. “I think that’s enough.” Harry exclaims and they leave the set.
“Well that was… interesting” Zayn says awkwardly staring at his phone.
“Yeah, didn’t know you had it in you. I’d totally do you if you weren’t straight” Harry says with a laugh as he drives along the busy streets passing their building.
“Haha, very funny Harry” Zayn raises his head and realizes that Harry wasn’t taking him home.
“Haz where are we going?”
“I’m kidnapping you, just be a quiet pretty girl or I’ll make you quiet” he says a devilish grin on his face. Zayn knows exactly where his dragging him off to, as he sees the familiar vintage looking building. “Damn”
As Harry unlocks and opens the door they are met with loud Korean music and the girls dancing in their shorts and tops, doing some strange choreography not even noticing their presence. They exchange a look, approach the girls from behind and each grab them by the hips yelling “Boo!”. Both the girls scream, terrified, thinking they were home alone. The boys flee before they get hit on the head with something hard and heavy. It had happened once already, Harry remembering the bump on his head when he stupidly scared Mill who was in the kitchen making her meal, effectively making her almost cut her finger off. He was lucky she didn’t use the knife, instead opting for a rolling pin.
“It’s time to start The Triathlon” Tam says hitting the gong Harry got them as a present 2 years ago (and still regrets it every day).
The Triathlon is a game the girls invented, it consists of three separate but equally important parts:
1. Karaoke - everyone must sing with everyone in pairs of 2, the best performance is picked through mutual agreement (mostly fighting).
2. Just Dance – played in groups of four
The winner of the challenge gets to not drink since this is a drinking game in which the losers drink (a lot).
The karaoke part goes smoothly, Mill and Tam winning for their glorious reenactment of the song ‘You Can’t Stop The Beat’. They make the boys drink way too much, laughing at their faces when they try the concoction Tam had cooked up, a mixture of ten different drinks. They are all having fun and enjoying themselves, just trying to relax and distance themselves from their usual ‘work mode’. They all worked together which was both a blessing and a curse. Their conversations almost always drifted to work, even their night outs were partly work-related, as they were paid to attend parties, photographs were essential, and getting your name in the papers meant getting more gigs.
As they start preparing for Just Dance Zayn seems really reluctant. “Come on Zayn it’ll be fun” Mill says grabbing his arm. “I don’t dance” he replies shyly knowing just how bad he is.
“And you think this idiot can dance, he’s got like two left feet” Mill answers pointing at Harry.
“Three to be exact” he replies smirking, enjoying the banter. He sees these people as more than just his friends. They almost feel like siblings, the way they tease each other but will protect each other immensely if anyone outside the group were to do the same,
Everyone whines as Tam comes to Zayn kissing him on the cheek “Please Zaynie, do it for me? Come on, I’ve seen you dance, you ain’t bad at all”
“O..Okay” he replies standing at his position and trying his best not to make a complete fool of himself and desperately failing.
FIFA was uneventful and they started getting really bored. The slight buzz in their veins making them want to do something, anything really.
“Let’s play Truth Or Dare” Harry chirped.
“Let’s just play truth, I’m too tired for dares” Zayn says not wanting to get up from his spot on the fluffy carpet, not quite sleepy but definitely relaxed.
“Since you suggested it, you’re first. Have you ever bottomed?” Tam asks.
Harry seems a bit reluctant to answer and then says silently “Damn going for the hard questions I see” he chuckles “Yeah, I um have” and hurries off before anyone can comment “Did you sleep with that guy I saw you with last night?” he says turning to Mill.
“Nah” she smiled, making all of them nod as if they already knew the answer. Mill wasn’t a saint but she did like taking things a bit slower, liked having a connection with someone, getting to know them. She never went beyond kisses with guys she had no real interest in. She never judged those who did, it just wasn’t really her. She was a bit old-fashioned in that sense, although none of them thought that was a flaw. They admired her greatly for being always lady-like, always put together and classy.
“Tam, who do you think is hotter between the boys?” asks Millie already knowing the answer since the girls had discussed the subject many a time, but wanting to see if the girl would lie. She sometimes liked causing just a bit of trouble, just to see what would happen. Tam looked up from where she was glued to her phone obviously texting someone for the past ten minutes.
“Um, well, I think Zayn’s like more beautiful, and Harry is more hot. I don’t know.” She blurts out., feeling put on the spot. Thankfully neither of the boys feels offended and she can calm down. She send Mill a quick look, one that says ‘How dare you’ since Mill knew every detail of her life. They were friends for years, ever since the beginning of highschool and of course Tam had told her how she thought Zayn was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, the night that Harry introduced them. Her admission wasn’t laced with desire for the man, but just general shock as to how someone can look so perfect. They had quickly become friends, Tam’s statement being a constatation they all shared, objectively.
“Haz, he didn’t answer, did he?” she asks just as Harry was putting his phone back. “No” he says seeming irritated. Not wanting to talk about Louis at the moment. He knew he’d get what he wants, but it seems almost hopeless given the man was ignoring him. Harry would never chase after someone who wasn’t interested. He wasn’t a predator, wasn’t someone who would make a person uncomfortable because he wanted a thing they didn’t. But he could tell Louis was into him, it was as obvious as it was delightful and he was determined to get him into his bed.
“Zayn, what’s your problem lately, you’ve been acting strange?” he decides to ask, since he was worried about his friend, the man acting different than usual for some time, irritable and distant. He seemed off and Harry couldn’t figure out why because Zayn was a rather private person, much like himself. That was the reason they clicked so easily in the beginning, one not forcing the other to spit all their secrets out.
“I don’t have any problems you are worthy of knowing” Zayn snorts rudely which was very uncharacteristic of him.
“What did I ever do to you?” Harry says sounding offended. He had never fought with Zayn before, both being too chill for such things and he couldn’t understand why Zayn was suddenly angry at him. It hurt somewhere deep in his gut but he pushed that feeling down. Much like he always did.
“Been a shitty friend that’s what!” Zayn yells “You’re always off in Harry world and when I finally get the guts to tell you how I’m feeling you don’t even listen!” he is referring to the moment at the club when he stupidly drunk three shots in a row and really wanted to tell Harry. Maybe not exactly what was bothering him, but just that he was bothered. He needed a comforting hand, a hug, a shoulder to cry on. He needed that, but Harry had already left, in the middle of his sentence.
“Well, tell me now!” Harry says devoid of emotion, feeling as if he swallowed rocks, his stomach uncomfortably churning.
“Just leave me alone, Mr. My Life Is So Fucking Perfect,”
“You always get what you want Harry, so you don’t know how it’s like to know something’s missing and not be able to do anything about that.”
“You don’t know what my life is like” Harry tells him, thinking how his life was as far from perfect as could be. His life was one of those lives people would write in books, a story they would attach to a troubled character, one with too many issues and too little solutions.
“You’re right I don’t” Zayn sighed. “I’ve known you for five freaking years and I still have no clue who you are” he isn’t angry at Harry, that’s the thing. Instead he is angry at the situation. He is angry that he feels too hopeless to do anything and he feels like nobody has his back, like he can’t tell his best friend what is going on, because it’s too delicate, too easy to turn everything into a colossal mess.
“And will you stop with the fucking texting it’s really annoying” he spits at Tam, who looks at him with big scared eyes. Three seconds later he’s out the door, leaving them in shock.
“Sooooo, tell me everything. You two seemed awfully chummy last night” George says while kicking the ball back and forth with Louis, their usual warm up before actual practice.
“Um, nothing happened really.” Louis says shyly, not one for discussing his private life with his teammates, although George was lovely, the human version of a fawn, he still felt uncomfortable. Being the only gay guy in the team meant you had to listen to too many disgusting stories, and not say anything about your own love life, since you don’t really want to gross people out.
“Yeah right, you fucking snogged the hottest guy in Britain.You guys should totally hook up!” George chirps wanting Louis to be happy, enjoying the visual as well. He wasn’t gay, but he would have been a liar if he said he wasn’t the least bit curious.
“No, George, I was drunk and that was it” total lie, Louis had only drank one beer. He wish he had more, it would make it easier to erase the hot stranger from his mind. Howehever electrified he made him feel he needed to stay away from him. He wasn’t ready to be hurt, and Louis had always been too clingy of a person. One to want relationships and families, a white picket fence and at least two dogs. He was pathetic really.“And stop speaking like you’re in a bad rendition of High School Musical”.
“So… He’s available?” George says slowly seeming hopeful. Louis has the urge to hit him, always suspecting that George wasn’t 100% straight, but never saying a thing. He remembers those soft plump lips and that devilish smile, and those eyes, and hips and fingers that left a burn all through his body. He touches his pocket forgetting that his phone is in the locker room. A simple, yet effective message flashing before his eyes. He remembers the dark surrounding him, the danger he once ventured and didn’t dare venture again. He remembers the pain. His heart is screaming No,No,No as it just wants to keep Harry to himself, wants him to be only his even though he doesn’t even know him. He always thought that someone who is trying to woo him should only focus his energy on him, seeing as when you are really drawn to a person you don’t try to seduce others while waiting for their response. But then again, in this world he knew his line of thinking was rare.
“Yes, he’s available” he answers with a foul taste in his mouth, knowing it’s for the better.