“What do you mean?” He asked. Harry grinned brightly at him.
“Me and Louis are best friends!” He proclaimed happily. “There’s a—ah—level to our relationship that goes past brotherhood. ‘Brothers’ doesn’t quite cover all that we are,” he finished with a smirk, leaning his head against Louis’, who dug his nails into Harry’s hand in response. The man smiled nervously in response, his female counterpart giggling awkwardly.
“Well, you’re obviously very close,” she remarked. Harry’s smirk expanded wider on his face and he nodded, pushing a kiss into Louis’ hair. Louis jerked slightly as Harry’s teeth tugged gently on his scalp, anger and arousal burning under his skin. Harry released his hair, pulling back to grin innocently at the interviewers from around Louis’ head. Louis kept his eyes staring straight ahead, not allowing any emotions to cross his face.
Harry continued teasing Louis throughout the interview, unable to help himself. He loved riling that boy up—and now he’d found a more effective way of doing it. It was so easy, too. All he had to do was tighten his fingers on Louis’ waist, or blow gently across his ear. Louis’ fingers would clench Harry’s hand each time Harry did something, his short fingernails biting into his skin.
As soon as the interview was over, Louis was up out of his seat, pulling Harry along by his hand. Louis shuffled as quickly as he could out of the studio, small pains shooting up his back with each step. He stopped when they reached an empty corridor, and Louis rounded on Harry.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Louis demanded angrily; Harry just smirked. “You little fucker.What were you doing? What are you trying to pull?”
“Just having a bit of fun,” Harry said innocently, “The interview was boring as fuck.”
“Yeah, okay, a little bit of fun,” Louis rolled his eyes, “That’s all it was.”
“What are you talking about, Louis?” Harry asked mischievously. Louis shot him a glare.
“You know too fucking well what I’m talking about,” he growled, “The touching, the squeezing—the biting. It was irritating.”
“You didn’t like it, Lou?” Harry smirked, inching closer to the other boy, who didn’t notice. “It seemed like you enjoyed it.”
“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis spat.
“Again? I know I’m irresistible, Tomlinson, but you could at least try to make it seem like you don’t always want in my pants,” Harry teased. Louis’ face flushed and he glared harder at the curly-haired young man.
“Shut it, Styles,” he seethed, “You act like you know everything, but you don’t. You don’t know my life, you don’t know my struggles—you don’t know me.”
“I know you better than you think, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry said roughly. They stared each other down, neither willing to break eye contact. Louis’ face was a mask of anger, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glittering. Harry only smirked, mirth and mischief dancing in his irises.
And then they were kissing. If one could call it that. Harry’s hands gripped Louis’ face tightly, where Louis’ clung desperately to Harry’s curls. Their mouths moved angrily, teeth clacking and noses bumping as they stumbled around the empty corridor. Harry decided to take control of the situation, turning Louis and shoving him into the wall. Their mouths separated briefly, and they both breathed in deeply, before coming back together.
Harry moved his hands down to grip at Louis’ hips, which bucked up at the contact. Harry smirked into Louis’ mouth, shoving Louis’ hips back into the wall forcefully. Louis let out a hiss and a groan as the scratches hit the wall, unsure whether or not the pain in his back was arousing. He thought maybe it was.
Chapter 2
Start from the beginning
