Golden Gloves (Larry Stylinson) {Co-written with @bradfords}

Chapter 21 (Part 1)

 A/N: This book finally hit over 1000 votes! That’s fucking rad as hell, guys! Thank you! Both Claire and I love the feedback we get from you (most of you) and we appreciate it so much. Thank you for reading our story and contributing to the 1K votes. x

The thing is that I think of too many What If’s before rationally making a decision. Before walking out on Harry, the only What If I thought of was: What if Harry dies in that match? So it’s not that I was mad at Harry, because really, I wasn’t. I was only scared because, as I mentioned, I was thinking of another indescribably-painful-to-even-think-about What If. If Harry were to die, he would be gone. I would never get to see his smile and the way it lights up a room ever again; the way his dimples curl around his lips creating the illusion that he’s a soft, precious creature, when really, I know otherwise; He’s a damn sexy freak. There are also many other things about him that I would miss if he died. But, this is the indescribably-painful-to-even-think-about What If that I was trying to avoid thinking about, so I will spare the details.

    I walked across an empty land of dim street lights and brown grass that was killed by the season; dead. Also, leaves were on the ground, fallen from their tree homes; dead. I accidentally stepped on a caterpillar that I didn’t notice until it was too late; dead. It seemed everything around me was dead, and I had to get out of there—wherever I was.

    I did what I do best in sad situations: I called Zayn.

    When he picked up the phone, he sounded tired as all hell. His voice was low and raspy and he spoke slowly, as if he was only half aware of what was going on. “Louis? Oh, fuck. It’s 1 pm. Sorry mate, just woke up and I’ve got one of those coming-down-from-the-high hangovers. Smoked some mad weed last night with Liam and Niall.”

    “Niall came home last night after dinner, I thought? Oh my god, he snuck out without telling us to be with Liam; That’s so cute!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, Zayn. I know now that you’re tired and out of it, but today is a bad day for me. I’m sad and lonely, and was wondering if you could come hang out with me.”

    “You’ve got Harry, mate.” He reminded me as if I didn’t know that I had a perfectly good boyfriend sitting at home, waiting for me, probably wondering where I am, …when I’ll be back. “Or, did something happen between you two that I should know about?” He waited patiently on the other end of the line for my answer.

    “We’re just—we’re having a, well,disagreement of sorts.” I told him. “He’s fighting that guy again. The one who nearly had him dead.” I was already fighting back tears that I wished wouldn’t have come. There was absolutely no reason for me to be crying on the phone with Zayn. Tears are for the pillow, my high school footie coach once said, and that quote was one that needed to be remembered in my seemingly dysfunctional brain.

    “Lou, you’re crying.” Zayn sighed, hearing me sniffle. I whispered to myself, tears are for the pillow; tears are for the pillow but that only made them come harder, begging Zayn to do something and help me. “Where’re you? I’ll pick you up and you can come to my place. We can watch movies or pig out on a few pizzas, Lou. I don’t want-cha crying.”

    I sniffled and wiped my eyes with my free hand. Zayn still waited patiently for me to answer him. I didn’t know what to tell him, because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. But as cliche as the truth was, I told Zayn just that. “I—I think I’m gonna go back home. I just want Harry to hold me and tell me everything will be alright.”

    “What if it won’t be?” Zayn sighed. I could tell that he felt rejected by me turning him down. I knew it was a shit thing to do, violation #56 of the bro code: trading your best mate for your boyfriend/girlfriend. I knew in my own heart though that I needed to be with Harry, mostly because I didn’t want to start a brawl because of my leaving.

    “That’s okay. I just want him to tell me everything will be, even if it’s not.” I explained to him. I turned around on the sidewalk and slowly started making my way back home. Home; it was still weird to call living with Harry home. It was a nice weird though, because there was no place I’d rather be than with him. I didn’t even know why I walked out in the first place. Were we breaking up? Surely not. Not if I can help it at least.

    “Is that what love is?” Asked Zayn.

    Was it? I felt a small smile curl my lips upon my face, and the pit of my stomach felt that feeling, the indescribable feeling that you get when talking about that someone. So it was what love is. “I guess so,” I said to Zayn. “I’ll text you tonight. See ya, Zaynieboy.” It was a stupid nickname.


“Louis I’m so fucking sorry!” Harry enveloped me—literally, he was too tall—into the tightest embrace I’d ever been a part of in my life. I quickly wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him as close to me as ever. We stayed like that for a while, residing in each other’s touch like it was the last time we’d ever feel.

    I was the one to break the silence. “This isn’t the end, is it?” All Harry did in response was hug me tighter, and letting a salty tear fall from his cheek to mine. I nodded contently, whispering “thank god” to myself. Those ridiculous tears threatened my eyes again and as much as I tried to push them back, they broke through the barrier that is my eye socket and soaked Harry’s white t-shirt see through.

    Laughing, Harry was the first to pull away from the embrace. “Lou, why ‘ya crying so hard?” He asked sympathetically. He made the cliche move of wiping my tears away with his thumb, but I excused it because of the particularly dopey smile that lit up his face just then. “Sadness doesn’t look so great on you, babe.”

    “Harry Styles, I am not entirely sure if that is a compliment or an insult.” I teased. I stood on my toes, reached my arms around his neck and pulled him down for our lips to meet in a soft kiss (and so I could stand flat-footed). “I’m sure it was your own kind of compliment.” I said and kissed him again. “I love you, Harry. I’m sorry for walking out as if this were a Nicholas Sparks movie.”

    “Oh Louis, you need to learn the difference between cliche and romantic. Half of the things you claim to be ‘just too cliche’ are really some of those most romantic things that I look for in a relationship.” He explained. “But, nonetheless I still love you, romantic-less or not.”

    “Romantic-less,” I chuckled. “That’s not a word, babe.”

    Harry’s face flushed pink. “Quiet. Kiss me?”

    “I assume you classify this under the romantic category. And although I do think that it is entirely too cliche to ask someone to kiss them, I will respect your [wrong] opinion and do as I’ve been asked.” I smirked.

    “Mm, good boy Louis—doing what’s asked of you.” Harry smirked, causing me to choke on the air that floated around us. He broke away from me in a laughing fit. “The whole dirty talk thing still not working for ya?”

    “Not quite,” I blushed. “I’m better at doing the dirty, rather than talking it. Don’t you think so Harry?” I smirked, dropping a hint. Harry’s eyebrows raised as his lips curled into a lovely smirk before he picked me up by my bum and ran—literally ran—with me into the bedroom. He playfully dropped me on the bedroom mattress and climbed over me, straddling my waist as I lay with my head just before the pillows. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I breathed, Harry kissing my neck. I craned my neck a bit, leaning into the touch. “Your lips feel so good on my skin like that, baby.”

    Harry smiled as he fluttered soft kisses on my skin. “See, you’re getting the hang of it. You just have to be in the mood. What do you wanna say when I do this?” He asked. He started sucking on the pale skin of my neck, leaving what would form to be purple bruises later in the night. His hands traveled from above my head, to my waist. His hands glided along my skin, under my shirt. “I know you wanna moan for me, Louis. I can see it in your eyes.”

    “Mm, Harry please keep doing that.” I begged. I grabbed his hands and guided them faster along the skin of my hips and waist. “I want you so bad, baby.”

    “Fuck Lou, say it louder. You’ve got to command me to do what you want.” Harry said, moving his lips to my ear. He nipped with his teeth at the skin, pulling it. I moaned. “C’mon Lou, say it. I’ll give you whatever you want, just tell me what it is.”

    “Oh fuck, Harry.” I breathed, unsure of what I wanted. “I want you to face-fuck me,” blurted out from my lips without me even thinking about it. I could tell Harry was thrown off too by the look on his face, but he licked his lips and nodded anyway. I pushed the pillows behind me off of the bed and leaned against the headboard.

    “On your knees.” Harry demanded, pointing a finger at me. I nodded and kneeled on the already wearing mattress. Harry unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans down to right above his knees. I opened my mouth eagerly for him, and he did as I wanted, entering himself in my small mouth. With as much of him as I could bear inside of me, he slowly started rocking into my mouth. As I moaned, Harry threw his head back. “Oh shit, the fucking vibrations Lou!” He yelled.

    Outside of the bedroom door, Niall and Liam sat against the wall on either side of the door. Liam turned to Niall, trying not to laugh. “Do they do this all the time?” He whispered and refused to hold back the quiet laughs that escaped his pink lips.

    “They’re never not fucking the brains out of each other.” Niall laughed too. He leaned against the wall and threw his head back. “I need to get my own place.” He said. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Not having to listen to their moans as my bedtime stories; not having to eat Harry’s eggs for breakfast every morning, because let’s face it, they aren’t that good; and, with my own place, you could come over and we would have the whole house to ourselves babe. We could do whatever we wanted.”

    Liam put his hand out, and Niall grabbed it, smiling. He jumped into Liams arms, giggling, and he fell into his lap. “I bet you I could give you a handjob and they wouldn’t even realize it. They’re too caught up in their own business.”

    “Are you proposing that you want to give me handjob?” Niall blushed.

    “I just want to pleasure you in any way possible.” Liam said, reaching for the button on Niall’s pants. “May I?” And Niall nodded, of course. Liam unzipped Niall’s pants and reached in for his ‘member.’ As he started pumping it, Harry was reaching a climax with his face-fucking Louis.

    “I’m gonna come,” Harry said.

    Louis moaned softly around Harry’s dick. “Yeah?”

    “Yeah.”

    Harry’s load filled Louis’ mouth with a salty, warm taste. After swallowing every bit of it, Louis pressed a wet, slobbery kiss on Harry’s cheek. “You’re so amazing babe.” Louis whispered. He pushed his boyfriend down so that he was lying on the bed. Louis straddled Harry, kissing him passionately with his two hands cupped around Harry’s cheeks. “I love you so much.”

    “I lo—what’s that?” Harry backed Louis away for one second. He looked towards the door, shushing Louis. Both of them listened to the small moans they heard faintly through their bedroom door. “Are the having sex on the fucking floor? Even I have more class than that.” Harry scrunched his nose.

    “Well to be fair, there was that one time on our first date when you pinned me to the floor and kissed me.” Louis laughed. “But I suppose that’s ‘different.’”

    “Oh, it is.” Harry said. He buttoned his pants back up and him and Louis opened the door to reveal Niall sitting in Liam’s lap, receiving a handjob as they made out passionately. “Niall!” Harry yelled, but you could almost hear amusement in his voice. “You couldn’t go to your bedroom mate? What’re you two even doing near ours?”

    “We uh… well I can assure you that we weren’t listening to you face-fuck the hell out of little Louis.” Liam said. “Kidding, because we were. Niall says you guys have sex, like, all the time. I thought Louis’ muscles seemed a bit bigger. Now I know why.”

    “You guys are fucktards.” Harry concluded. “Absolute fucktards.”




A/N: I know that’s a shit way to end the chapter but I wanted to get it posted before I went to bed. Also, this is only part one of this chapter. I will post part two later this weekend. Thank you all again for reading. (And maybe go check out something on my profile?)
                        —Kaity (@bradfords)

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