I was only left in my shirt and tights before Clyde entered, his eyes growing with lust at the sight of me. He groaned out a small moan as he took a seat beside me, his lips going instantly to my neck.
"Oh," I falsely cooed, my eyes rolling slightly. "Clyde, I... I really like you."
I could feel a smirk forming against my skin where he kissed. "What do you like about me?"
Gosh. "Everything. Your lips, your eyes... your hair-"
"Really?" His fingertips came to my shirt, unbuttoning it agonisingly slow. I huffed in impatience and quickly pulled it apart with my own hands, causing a few buttons to tear off.
"Yes, Clyde," I moaned, bringing his lips back to mine. "I've... always liked you."
His kissing became slower and slower before he sceptically pulled back to eye me in concern. "I'm... I'm sorry for what happened the night of Dinner & Dance. Every time when I see you in school, I like- hate myself for it. I always want to apologise but I get too scared-"
"It's fine," I cut him off by grasping his hands and leading them to my tights before pecking his lips. "You can rip them, they're cheap tights, anyways."
He slowly nodded before he lowered himself to the floor and kneeling in between my slim legs. His fingertips dug into the crotch of my tights, and ripped them apart; creating a hole big enough to see my thighs. He seductively leant forward and harshly sucked onto my bare thighs, creating an odd yet pleasurable sensation as he made a hickeys all up my thighs, looking like bruises.
"I really am sorry," He came to a stop, raising from his knees to sit back beside me suddenly. "You're so cool, you're not like some of the girls I get with. All they do is, I don't know- backstab everyone and use sex as a weapon. Every time I have sex, I have a crazy ex boyfriend trying to fight me. But you're real, you're so real."
I let out the largest, most frustrated internal sigh I could imagine. Now I felt bad, I felt like shit. Clyde was somewhat a decent person, and here I was trying to cause trouble. "I didn't want sex-"
"No, no, that's fine," He assured me with a drunken smile of assurance. "I don't have any condoms, so, like- I would have had an awkward moment where I had to stop you." He laughed, drooling slightly.
"I only wanted to make Harry angry but the worst thing is that he doesn't worry about me enough to care." I morosely croaked as my throat rose in sickness, but I maintained myself.
Clyde's eyes softened as he confusingly gazed in disappointment. "What?-"
He was interrupted as the broken door swung open, revealing Harry's tall and dark figure to emerge in lethal anger. He stormed over, his strong, muscular arms fiercely dragging Clyde from the bed and onto the cold floor. "What the fuck is going on?!"
He instantaneously yanked him by the shoulders and pulled Clyde to his feet so harshly his toes were hardly touching the floor. "W-Woah, calm down-"
"You're trying to fuck Harley and you're telling me to calm down?" He ferociously screamed, his muscles tensing. "She's drunk, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
He let Clyde slip from his hold and he stumbled back into the wall as I scarily covered my mouth in fright. But I had to speak up. "H-He wasn't trying to do anything-"
"Shut the fuck up, Harley! Let me handle this!-"
"You got it all wrong, mate." Clyde defended.
"I'm not your fucking mate. Get out of my house before I call the police. I swear, Clyde- I won't fucking hesitate." He snarled, staring harshly at his supposedly best friend before he staggered to his feet and went for the door.
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Call Boy. (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) on holdFanfiction
Harley Thomas; an anxiously wrecked Christian who thrives on judging those who sin. Harry Styles; an emotionally wrecked Atheist who thrives on sinning.