apollo ♡ larry

01

The light was streaming in through the cracks in the blinds of a small window across from where the young curly-haired boy was lying. The light danced across the thick white blankets where he lay in little golden rectangle patterns; his hands instinctively running over them.

He had never slept in a bed this soft; the sheets smelt of sandalwood and irish soap, and the scent alone brought back memories filled to the brim of lust. He glanced over at the shrieking alarm clock beside the bed,

beep beep beep

he hit the snooze button lazily, checking the time.

10:32

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept that late either, it was a welcome change to the usual rude awakening his older sister had greeted him with everyday for the past sixteen years. Although it would have been better if the emerald eyed boy could actually remember whose bed he was in. The night before was beyond blurry, memories clouded with intoxication and pleasure. He remembered bits and pieces of the night; starting with going out with his best friend Niall.

"Harry! Come on! You can't stay in on a friday night." the older boy whined. "I swear to god babe, you're like a sixty year-old in a twinks body."

"Fuck off," Harry said swatting the boys arm, "theres nothing wrong with staying in, besides, i was really looking forward to writing that english paper." He wasn't going to bother arguing the twink comment, he knew what he was.

"You're meaning to tell me," Niall said, taking a swig from the beer bottle in his hand, "you would rather write an english essay than hang out with me? your best friend." His breath hitched halfway through the last words, creating a mock sob. Niall had always been the queen of melodrama.

"Come one," Harry said, turning around in the cool desk chair his mom had gotten him for christmas a few months before to face the already tipsy boy sitting on his bed, "you know its not like that."

Niall whimpered, turning his head to the side like a wounded puppy, "Do i?"

"I need the grade!"

"Oh give me a break," Niall rolled his eyes as Harry swung back around in his chair. His face illuminated once again by the open laptop, "your grades are fine."

"Fine isn't good enough, you know that."

It was quiet for a minute, nothing but the clicking of the younger's speedy fingers hitting the keys of his Mac Book.

"Harry..." the older boy said, voice stern "you know what the doctor said."

"Fuck that."

The clicking got faster.

"Harry..."

"What?!"

"You're supposed to be relaxing, enjoying life, living to the fullest." The sloshing sound of beer hitting niall's lips joined in with the clicking.

"Well... you know... fucking fine alright!"

The clicking stopped, as did the drinking.

"Really?"

"Yes, you happy now?" Harry groaned, slamming his computer shut and sliding out of his chair.

"Yes, I am actually. I'm over the bloody moon!" said the older, downing the rest of his beer and tossing the bottle lazily into the bin next to Harry's bed.

The curly haired boy huffed, pulling on a pair of black skinny jeans over his Calvin Klein briefs. "Ok, calm down Nialler." he picked up a white T-shirt and put that on as well.

Harry's head snaped down, but he was wearing a lose black hoodie now. Explains the intensity of the smell; sweat mixed with smoke and cheep cologne. Not the bad kind of sweat smell, he actually kind of liked it. It was the kind that you get after a long night of dancing- which is exactly what he and Niall had gone out to do.

"Whoo! aren't you glad you ditched your homework for me!" the older yelled, except it didn't sound like yelling over the booming electronic music coming from the clubs speakers.

"Yes, now go buy us another round asshole!"

He watched his best friend make his way through the crowd of moving bodies. Just as he disappeared, the curly haired boy felt a hand on his back.

"Hey sexy, how 'bout you come with me." Harry turned to see a hulking man, much taller than he was, and much older. His hair was going gray at the roots, although it looked like he put a lot of effort into making sure it didn't grow into the rest of his dark hair. "Don't worry, i don't bite," he smirked, "unless you want me to."

The man was big, not too big, but big nonetheless. His arms were about as thick as both of Harry's combined, and his grip was strong. The young boy didn't like that. The man was pretty average looking, he looked like he hadn't shaved or slept in a few days, and you could smell the booze on his breath. Not someone he'd ever go home with, biting or not.

The boy was used to being hit on in bars, by young guys, old guys, and anyone in-between. "No thanks, I'm actually here with a friend..." Harry waved his hand in the general direction of the bar, "he's just getting us some drinks."

The man smiled, but his grip stayed the same, firm and unshakable.

Harry's head shot up, heart skipping a beat as he heard a kettle shrieking from somewhere outside the room. Rolling out of bed, he pulled on his underwear, which had been laying on the carpeted floor, next to his jeans and a pear of adidas joggers.

He shuffled out the bedroom door and began walking down a lengthy hall. The pot had stopped screaming but Harry liked the idea of a cup of tea right about now, although he wasn't sure he was ready to meet the person preparing it.

He walked into an open area; decorated with a sofa, tv, coffee table, and a bookshelf. Nothing special. The kitchen was right next to it, the only thing separating the two was a thin countertop with bar-stools on the living room side. It was a cute apartment, he thought. he wasn't sure what he had been expecting really, maybe a warehouse? A shed? Some other creepy, serial killers domain. But as far as he could tell, the place was pretty straightforward.

He walked over to the stove and turned it off. The boy started looking through the cupboards to find a mug, and poured himself some. just what the doctor ordered. The sweet hot liquid hit the back of his throat as he took his first sip, burning his tongue just a little as it glided down his throat. He hadn't really realized how hung over he was until right then.

Plopping down on the couch he noticed a picture of a familiar looking boy, a face he couldn't quite put his finger on, and a girl, beautiful in every sense of the word. Their arms intertwined behind their backs and faces pulled into two wide smiles. He placed his cup on the table, trying to remember more.

Bodies were grinding to the sound of thumping music all around him, but no one noticed the little brunette in the grips of a large man, struggling to break free.

"Oi!"

Harry heard another unfamiliar voice over the sea of sound around him and looked up to see a feathery brown-haired boy, making his way towards the pair. His face was... breathtaking. amidst a sea of people he was the only one that stood out, practically glowing.

"What do you want?" the man said, his grip on the smaller tightening. "I called dibs."

"I'd shut the fuck up if I were you mate." said the boy, taking a step towards the taller man, "He doesn't seem very interested." the boy shot Harry a look, he nodded profusely.

"What's it to you," the man chuckled, "he's just some little slut."

The beautiful stranger took a deep breath, harry only got a glimpse of his clenched fist at his side before it went flying.