Caught [l.s] (boyxboy)

IM Drunk

hello hi

nice to see your faces they're all so lovely

warning: sexual content (mild) 

this is short im sorry

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 "Where's 'Arry?" Louis slurs; it's two in the morning, music is playing from somewhere (Louis really doesn't know who turned it on, really, but he doesn't care either) and Louis is piss drunk. He thinks. He's not sure of that either. He lost Harry somewhere near the kitchen at least three hours ago, maybe four - Jesus, is that really what his hand looks like? 

"I have small hands," Louis says in wonder. He wiggles his fingers around and presses his hand to Niall's face for a size comparison. Niall snores loudly in his slumber (he passed out not too long ago, actually). "Zayn, d'you think like. Hands?"

"Yeah," Zayn says. "Hey, how drunk is too drunk?"

"Huh?" Louis can barely hear over the background noise. "Wait. Did I lock the front door?"

"Dunno mate, it's your house," Zayn makes grabby hands at the joint in Louis' hand. Louis pushes him away, laughing. "Louuuu."

"Zaynie," Louis falls onto Zayn's lap, giggling like an oaf as he blows smoke directly into Zayn's face. "You smell like.. citrus. Did you take a citrus bath or summat?"

"What?" Zayn reaches over Louis and grabs a bag of crisps, shoveling a handful of them into his mouth instead. "The hell is a citrus bath?"

"It's a bath," Louis pauses. "Of citrus."

There's a couple making out just past Louis' feet on the other end of the sofa; Louis can't be sure who they are, but he thinks it's Liam and a blonde girl. Louis can't even recall who he invited to this fucking party, and he's quite surprised that the police haven't shown up yet with at least sixteen noise complaints. He makes a mental note to send baskets of chocolates to all of his neighbors in the morning. 

After a few minutes of talking to Zayn and smoking some more, Louis finally gets up and wanders around to find Harry. He's stumbling and he bumps into the wall a few times, but it seems like everyone here is either stoned or wasted, so that makes him feel just a little bit better. There's food on the floor (Harry will clean that up) and knocked over cups all over the place; it's a proper mess. Someone has filled up the kitchen sink with water and someone has written I was here on the wall with a strange red substance; Louis tastes it. Ketchup. 

A hand grabs Louis suddenly as he's meandering down the hallways containing the guest room and master bedroom along with their corresponding bathrooms. Louis hums as the hand pulls him into the master quickly, his drunken mind slow and the influence of the drugs relaxing him and making his limbs feel heavier than usual.

"Hey, I found you," Louis giggles as Harry's familiar scent clouds his senses. Harry's laughing in his ear; his breath smells like alcohol too, but his hands are all over Louis. "I win."

"No," Harry says. "I'm the one that found you. Been lookin' for you for ages, Lou."

Someone knocks on the door to their room suddenly. Louis buries his face into Harry's shirt and sways randomly, because he's not sure if he can actually stand up by himself anymore. "Room's taken, mate." Harry's chest vibrates as he speaks. The vibrations travel down south immediately. 

"Did we lock the front door, ever? Like.. don't want to check," Louis breathes. Harry has to fight hard to hear him, but he manages to somehow because it's Louis and Harry would walk a million miles just to hear him say his name. "Trustin' your word."

"We probably did," Harry says, but he really doesn't know. Or care. He's got Louis in a locked bedroom and that's all he could ever want and more, really. "Are you high?"

"Noooo," Louis laughs, rubbing his face all over Harry's shirt and immediately contradicting the question. "No, 'm Louis. You're high. Highry. Harry - smell good."

"You're gonna be so fuckin' hungover, Lou," Harry laughs loudly, because yeah, so will he. Louis leans into him completely all of the sudden and the sudden change has Harry stumbling backwards under Louis' weight. He falls back onto the bed and Louis collapses on top of him, laughing like an idiot when he lands on Harry with an oof.

"We don't have anything to do in the morning." Louis is hard against Harry's leg; Harry is trying not to comment on it, but it's hard, really, and he doesn't anticipate this ending in a way that it would if either one of them was sober. "We've got all night."

"It's already mornin'," Harry reminds Louis. Louis' mouth latches onto his neck as he hums, and Harry draws in a sharp breath. "Louis-"

Louis sucks and licks and even bites Harry's neck to shut him up, but all it does is make Harry even louder as he whines and tries to push Louis off and pull him closer at the same time. Louis' lips travel from the base of Harry's neck and up to his ear. "Fuck me."

Harry's chest is heaving and Louis' insides are stirring with anticipation as Harry sits him up and presses their lips together urgently, but it's messy and too rushed; their teeth clang together and Harry's hands are tugging at Louis' hair so hard that it hurts. Louis doesn't care, really, until his hands are playing with the bottom of Harry's shirt and he feels a large one swat his away.

"Harry-" Louis begins.

"No," Harry says. "Not tonight, not ri' now. Don't want it to happen like this," he continues breathlessly. Louis pouts and squirms, because he's got a certain problem caused by fucking Harry and now he's denying Louis the basic pleasure that he had thought he was going to finally gain access to.

"Please," Louis whimpers. 

"No."

"Fucking hell, Harry, it hurts," Louis whines, trying to rock against Harry and relieve some of the building pressure in his lower region. Harry stares darkly at him for a moment before the hand that had swatted Louis' away curiously inches forward and rests directly over the stiff crotch of Louis' jeans.

All of Louis' air leaves him in a woosh as Harry presses down with the palm of his hand. "Oh my God, oh my God-"

"Shh," Harry whispers. "It's okay, Louis. I'm gonna take care of you."

That alone almost has Louis coming embarrassingly early in his trousers, but the combination of Harry palming him through the denim and his already heightened sensitivity from the alcohol and drugs, it doesn't take long for Louis to dirty them after bucking into Harry's hand and Harry smirking when Louis grips onto his shirt pathetically. 

He feels like a teenager who's just orgasmed for the first time, but he suppose that's just because Harry makes him feel like a whole other person.

Louis is still upset about Harry's rejection, though, so even though he's already come in his own pants he ignores Harry's desperate pleas for Louis to return the favor and falls asleep a few minutes later.