Messy Nights and Modest Fights - Larry Stylinson Short Story

Chapter 3 - Dancing to the same song

Dancing to the same song

Louis was draped across Niall’s lap as he stared up at the ceiling and sang, ‘What Makes You Beautiful,’ in a Jamaican accent. He laughed, “Rasta remix, bro,” he laughed and Niall swatted him on the forehead. Louis had only had four, five, maybe seven shots of jelly. “But it’s jelly,” he called loudly, “How bad can jelly be?” 

Niall burst into a fit of laughter as Liam climbed onto the frosted glass and began performing a strip show, “Work that body!” He sung loudly as he flung his shirt at Harry. 

Harry was sitting on the leather couch, face red and hands on his stomach as he laughed. He pulled out his phone, “Put on a show for Jen!” He cheered as he began to film. 

Liam bit his bottom lip as he yanked out his belt and began swinging it around his head. “Ohh, yeah,” he said deeply with a chuckle. 

Louis tried to sit up and rolled off Niall’s lap and onto the cold, sticky floor. “Ouch!” He laughed, hands in his face as he burst out laughing. “Harry,” he called up at Harry who was now looking down at Louis sprawled out on the floor, face flushed. “Harry!” Louis shouted again. 

“I can hear you!” Harry chuckled, his dimples etched in his cheeks as he tried not to laugh hysterically and his very drunk, very messy fiancé. “Louis!” Harry shouted back, cupping his hands. “You’re a mess!”

“Not, am not,” Louis scowled, he stuck out a hand, “Help me up.” Louis couldn’t help but smile when Harry’s hand came out and the ring on his finger caught the lights, Louis felt his stomach turn to complete mush as he looked at the love of his life. Harry pulled him up and Louis fell into his arms, he leant to kiss Harry but Harry shook his head. “Why not?” Louis pouted. 

“Media,” Harry hissed pointing to a group of men that ‘looked’ like they were enjoying themselves but Harry could see the lenses sticking out of their leather jackets. Undercover agents were the worst, especially when the boys were struggling to see straight, one wrong move and TMZ would be all over it in seconds. 

Louis groaned, “Fucking paps.”

Zayn shouted, “Lads!” 

They all turned to look at him casually leaning on the shoulder of a very beautiful blonde, long legs and tanned skin, a clipboard in hand and ear peace jutting from under the soft waves of her hair. “I have a surprise.”

She blushed as he playfully kissed her cheek, the bass dropped and he began dancing away not paying attention as the freckled blonde stepped into their booth. She leant close, the ones still able to pay attenion, Liam (barely), Niall (laughing like a lunatic), Porter (Jagermeister down his shirt) and Louis who was trying to get his hand down Harry’s pants. “Due to the unforeseen crowd that’s shown up when they got wind of you attending,” she cleared her throat as Zayn came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and began dancing. She tactfully laughed and pried his hands from her, “Upstairs,” she pointed to a second level completely shrouded by frosted glass. “Our private Oval room will give you the privacy that you need,” she winked at Louis, “And you won’t have to worry about photos.”

“How much?” Harry shouted over the music. 

“What?” She smiled as Zayn kissed her on the cheek, “What did you say?” She asked again. 

“How much for the Oval?” Harry smiled, face flushed as Louis was behind him and his hands, well, they were not being kept to himself. 

“It’s paid for,” she smiled, “The lovely gentleman-“ She turned to point at Zayn who was now swinging upside down on the steel plated, light fitting above them. She laughed, covering her mouth, “This upstanding, sober,” She laughed as Zayn stuck out his tongue and sung, very loudly, the chorus to a ‘Summertime Sadness’ Remix. “He paid for the room.”