I Like It

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"Harry?" My mum calls through my bedroom door, making me groan.

"Yes?" I reply politely, unable to be grumpy at her.

"Are you coming down for dinner?"

I sigh. I'm not hungry.

"Can I have it later, please?" I ask, hoping she listens and doesn't just come in. I've been crying and I don't want her know.

There's a pause of silence.

"Of course it is," She replies. "Is everything okay?"

Stop being so observant, mother.

"Yes, I'm fine," I try hard to not snap at her, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Just busy with my Uni work."

"Okay, honey," She answers. "I'll leave the plate in the microwave."

I hum a response, before resuming my staring at the ceiling.

It's now 24 hours since I saw Louis. It hurts so badly. I wonder what he's doing. He'd probably still be on his way home from work, walking in with his laptop case, looking tired. Would he scratch his chin in the mirror like he does almost every day?

I roll to my side, curling my knees up. Would he look at the mirror and think of me, like I always thought of him when I saw it? Or was it always just sex with him, like it should've been?

I pull the pillow over my head, exhausted from having only a couple of hours sleep last night. I couldn't sleep after dreaming about Louis.

I yawn, hating how sore my cheeks are, but I close my eyes, managing to drift away.

I hear the door, Louis must be home. He was late home today, which was out of character for him. Not like half an hour late, more like 3 hours late.

"You can't score to save your life, Niall," Louis grumbles. "Just pass it to me more, and we'd have won."

"Don't be a sore loser," Niall snaps back. "They were better than us."

Niall's here, too. They must've played football tonight. I'm quite unobservant about when they played. I'm sure there was a schedule, but I only ever paid attention to Louis' work pattern. We've been having regular sex about 5 weeks, so I'm really used to it. I'm aware of something changing in my head, especially after he rode me in the lounge after my Granddad passed away. Just hearing him talk was enough to excite me nowadays, both in my pants and my chest.

He's ridden me twice since then, completely blowing my mind each time, forcing me to come the hardest I'd ever had in my life. I really don't know what to do with myself.

I haven't pulled in ages, and to be fair I haven't needed to.

"I haven't ran so much in my life," Louis continues. "This thigh is killing me."

I stand with my fork in my mouth, leaning against the counter. Don't come in here, because you're gonna look tired and wrecked, and I'll get really hard. Not with Niall here.

"You want me to massage it?" Niall asks, and I frown.

"Oh, because that didn't sound gay," Louis laughs. "You do make me question your sexuality sometimes, Niall."

"Hey, it was a friendly gesture," Niall grumbles. "There's no way you'll do it right, and you're walking like you've pulled something."

He's in pain? I hope he's alright.

Ignore that.

Louis sighs.

"Fine, just let me take my trainers off." He says.

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