fourteen

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a/n : I couldn't find a picture with Niall and Juan Luis (Maluma) so I gave it a go and made an edit. I never make edits so sorry if it's bad but hopefully it gives you an idea of what Juan Luis looks like in this x

Louis' POV:

"Oh god, Juan, you're so drunk," I grumble as I finally get him into the passenger seat of my car. 

If it wasn't for me hoisting my wobbly friend down the sidewalk as we left Duckies, there's no way he would be made it to the car without running into something or falling over.

His voice is very slurred as he babbles. The thick Colombian accent and his constant switching between English and Spanish (which he does a lot in the kitchen or when he's drunk) make understanding what he's saying quite the feat.

"Mi primer y único amor," I buckle his seatbelt and he quickly becomes overly fascinated with his sweatpants strong as he giggles some more, "Do you think he'll marry me?"

"Juan Luis, you've known him for one night, so that probably doesn't justify a proposal and marriage,"

"Silly, silly, silly Louis," He lets out a hiccup, "Silly, silly, silly-"

"Let's get you home," I interrupt and head in the direction of his flat.

He says something else in Spanish and continues to play with his pant strong. I'm not fluent in Spanish despite the constant Spanish in the kitchen; Juan Luis, Chef Benito, and a third chef named Oscar speak it all the time in the kitchen between one another, so I have no idea what he's saying.

"You'll probably forget that all of this happened with you and Niall by tomorrow if you pass out, so tell me what happened so I can remind you later,"

"I won't forget my husband, mi esposo," The strong smell of alcohol coming from his direction indicated otherwise. 

"Once you left he sat down with me on a seat next to mine. Do you think his bum got squished when he sat down? It's such a nice bum but maybe it got flattened. Pero el culo de Niall está tan caliente,"

"Stay on topic, love," I remind him.

"Mmm, I hope it's not flat. Anyway, he said 'Nice to meet ya' and offered to treat me to a drink or a beer," 

The humid night air mixed with the heaters in my car is causing the windows to fog up, dripping with condensation. Juan Luis notices and proceeds to draw sloppy hearts on the window with his finger as he continues to speak. 

"I told him all about myself, and he did the same,"

I nod. "Go on,"

"Did you know he was Irish? Like from Ireland? Maybe he's a leprechaun. But Louis," He slurs, dragging out the 's', "his voice is so amazing,"

"I could tell by the accent," I laugh, and he giggles too but stops and hiccups halfway through.

"Another guy was at the bar, Danny or Derek or something. He served us some more drinks and I can't remember what happens after that,"

"I told you you'd forget,"

" 'm not forgetting, I remember. I just forget, but I remember,"

"You are so, so drunk," We pull into a parking spot in front of his house.

He's put up some rainbow lights by his windows, along with some framing the outline of his house. They must be really new because I don't remember seeing the lights up the last time I stayed over.

I park the car and cut the engine before getting out. I walk around the front of my car to get Juan Luis out too.

My passenger window is now covered in sloppy finger-drawn hearts with the occasional arrows and N+J's inside of them; some of the letters are backward though because he's nearly wasted.

Make Me Beg ➸ Larry StylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now