(LOUIS'S POV)
It's been a week and a half since me and Harry kissed.
It keeps replaying over and over in my mind, and I catch myself smiling in my English class.
"Why're you smiling?" Liam asks me, as he ties his shoelaces on his new Jordans.
Typical, really.
He has more shoes than my mom.
I shrug, "I don't know. Is smiling a crime? Are you the smile police?"
He rolls his eyes at my demeanor and turns to face me in his desk.
Class hasn't started yet and I can tell he's about to ask a question.
I hate his questions.
They're always so ditzy.
Remind me why I'm his friend again?
"So are you and that freak together or something?" He asks, tilting his head into the hallway, where Harry stands with his Chemistry teacher.
He's so cute, probably talking about how he can make up those last few tests he failed.
He really hates Chemistry.
And right now, I really fucking hate Liam.
I look at him and I can't believe how much of a douche bag he turned into.
Sure, before I met Harry, I thought he'd be a bit of a freak.
But boy, was I wrong.
So so wrong.
I don't have a right to be angry with Liam for his presumptions.
I know that.
But I do anyways.
"He's not a fucking freak," I say with a hard, cold, tone. "Why don't you go count the shoes in your closet, then tell me who the real freak is."
Liam is taken aback and scowls at me, his eyebrows furrowed and his cheeks red.
I can't tell if it's embarrassment or anger though. Both, is a safe bet.
"Don't have to be such a shit head about it. It was just a question," He replies and I tense up, turning back in my seat and deciding not to take it further.
That is until he speaks again.
"So, what? Did you guys fuck or something?" He asks, like it's totally fucking casual.
I give him a straight answer through gritted teeth. "No."
I copy notes from the board and grip my pencil tighter, and it's almost about to break from the anger that's welling up inside me.
Could this kid get any more... Oh I don't know, dim witted? Rude? Annoying?
He was better when he was 10, and when he didn't wear snap backs and gold chains.
Now he's just dull from all the pot he inhales.
"Good," He chuckles dryly and doodles on his paper. "Whatever he's got, I don't want you getting it."
I swear to god, I don't even have a thought process before I push my coffee off my desk with my elbow.
It spills and lands all over his brand new Jordans and I smile sarcastically, "Whoops." I say and he's absolutely devastated.
The whole class stares as he yells at me, "You did that on purpose you fucking dick!" He hops from his seat, shaking off the ugly sneakers from the brown liquid.
I shrug and look up at him as he hovers over me. "I have no idea what you're talking about, mate. It was an accident." I say innocently, but he knows it wasn't.
That's all he knows.
Because if he mistook Harry's disorder for an STD, that cannabis is doing a wondrous job of turning him into an idiot.
The teacher sends Liam out for cursing, and before he leaves I jot down something on my notebook and make sure he sees it before he walks through the door.
It says, 'LAY OFF THE WEED, PAL.'
He looks at it and gives a cold look, then makes his way down to the principles office, where he rightly belongs for talking shit about Harry like that.
When class ends, Harry waits for me by the door, and people shove him a bit, so he backs away with a flustered face.
I pull him into me, as soon as I see him, and wrap him in a fully engulfed hug.
"How was class?" He asks, and it's muffled by my shirt until he pulls away with the most innocent grin, and the deepest green eyes I've ever seen.
The kid could get away with murder with that face.
"It was um... Eventful," I say with a shrug and I walk down the hall with him, to his last class of the day.
"How so?" He asks, putting his hand in my sweatshirt pocket, fiddling with it as he leans against the lockers outside of the classroom.
"I spilled coffee on Liam's new Jordans, that's all." I say and Harry tries not to giggle. I smile and peck all over his cherub cheeks.
"How was your class?" I ask him, and he makes a bothered face.
He swallows, Adams apple bobbing. "It was ah... Eventful. Just like yours, except no coffee was spilled..."
I dread this look, it's the look of defeat, the look of a puppy getting whacked over the nose with a newspaper.
I cup his cheek and caress it with my thumb, "Text me if you have any problems in this class, yeah?" I reassure, and plant a soft kiss on his forehead.
He nods and I smile, "I have to interview you today, but after that want to go to the mall? I have money."
He shakes his head, "You aren't spending money on me."
I nod with a smirk, "Oh but I am."
He shrugs, "Seeing as you won't take no for an answer, fine." He says and smiles, and the bell rings, but I can tell he's scared. Like he doesn't want to go into class.
I smooth back his curls and hum, "Like I said, text me alright?" I soothe, and add, "Remember our Episode Escape Plan."
He nods and frowns, but then gives me a quick peck before he turns into the classroom skiddishly.
We made the Episode Escape plan yesterday.
1. Bathroom pass
2. Text Louis
3. Meet up in bathroom
4. Make out with each other senseless
Okay so maybe I came up with that last step but whatever.
I go to my last class with a smile, and try to avoid Liam as much as humanly possible.
Because if I see him, I might punch him and I don't really feel like getting expelled.
All I try to focus my brain on is Harry, and how I'm going to buy him whatever his heart wants.
Within budget.
I'm not rich or anything.
When the day finally ends, I meet Harry in the lobby and greet him with a warm smile, and a peck to his cheek.
He bites his smile back and blushes intensely as we walk hand in hand to my car.
Oh god, he really does hate my car.
He's never flat out said that, but it's obvious, with the way he squirms around in it.
We both buckle in and I try to drive as carefully as possible for his sake, because he's whimpering under his breath a little.
"I'm s-sorry," He says and gets flustered, nervously giggling as he taps his fingers on the arm rest.
He's so adorable.
Does he know?
"You're adorable." I say out loud, but it sounds like a thought that was meant to stay in my head.
He blushes further and smiles, and I want him to just relax and have an orgasm in my car.
Just let it out.
But is that my sick mind talking?
"I'm not anywhere n-near-" He tries to say, but we hit a bump, that I "wasn't paying attention to."
Okay... Maybe I hit it on purpose.
Sue me.
"L-Louis, take another... Another road..." He says and swallows but he's slacking for some reason, laying back in his seat and covering his face in his hands.
Does he want this to happen?
"Okay." I reply simply, and yes.
I do take a smoother road.
But I speed up.
I speed up so high that even I can feel the car vibrating heavily.
I watch his face between glances, and he arches his back slightly off the chair, removing his hands and placing one on the window sill, the other on the arm rest.
He looks over at me, and he knows I'm doing it on purpose so I feel a rush of guilt and slow down significantly.
"N-No, please." He whispers, shaking as his legs part slightly.
"Faster, go faster." He breathes out, now holding onto my arm and digging his nails into the flesh.
Who the fuck am I to say no?
I speed up twice as fast down the long road and his thighs tense as I see his little tummy contract.
Glances aren't fucking enough, I wan't to see him without looking at the road.
But I can't, and I'll have to take what I've got.
Because what I've got, is so so good.
He whimpers loudly, his back arching only a little, but what really drives me nuts is that I realize he's whimpering my name.
My boner could not get any harder at this point, honestly.
He comes when his body shudders a little and his tight skinny jeans have a wet spot in the front.
It's a lot of wetness, really, and he tries to catch his breath as the car slows down.
He looks so small, and scared, and mostly, he looks like he really regrets what just happened.
He swallows thickly and with rosy cheeks he unzips his sweater, putting it over the damp spot on his pants.
"I-... Can I go home?" He asks a few minutes later and I bite my lip gently, looking over at him.
It's not like I can deny him that, but I pull over and park on the side of the road anyway.
He looks at me like I'm crazy but all I do is turn to him with a small frown.
"I don't mind... you know." I say, and he turns away, fiddling with his fingers awkwardly.
"I just wanna go home..." He says in a quiet voice and I feel my chest ache.
"Please... Harry, I don't want you to leave." I beg him, and the neediness in my voice is evident.
I don't care.
I'll beg.
For Harry... I'd do a lot of ridiculous things.
"Please, Harry, it was my fault, I shouldn't of-"
"Louis. Take me home. Please." He interjects, and dear lord, I feel like such an asshole. He's almost in tears. Again.
My sick mind had to be fed, and it led up to this.
Perfect.
I give a nod. "Right... Okay." I say and swallow, turning the car on again.
This time, I actually drive carefully, but Harry won't even look at me.
I reach to hold his hand, and thankfully, he gives it a small squeeze in reassurance.
Maybe he's more mad at himself than he is at me, but that still doesn't settle the pain in my heart.
I'd rather him yell at me, than him yell at himself.
When I finally get into his drive way, a whole silent ten minutes later, he turns to me, but won't meet my eyes.
"Thanks." He mutters and he almost gets out until I pull his arm back gently.
He looks back and I smile at him. "Can I have a kiss?" I ask sweetly, and he tries to force back a smile in return.
He nods and I aim for his lips, but he gives me a cheek peck instead.
Harry doesn't look back as he gets out, and enters through his front door, but I sit in his drive way for a moment, heaving a sigh.
I have a feeling I'll need a wank when I get home, considering my cock is harder than asphalt.
Nice.
Wait... Oh god did Harry see that?
Shit. Oh shit.
He think's I'm some kind of freak now. Awesome.
But maybe I am?
Ugh.
I curse my sick ways as I drive home, and that night I end up thinking about Harry the whole time.
His whimpers of my name are on full volume, and on constant repeat in my head, and I'm pretty sure I end up with the best self-made orgasm a guy can get in the end.
I curse my sick ways for a second time that day, and fall asleep with even more sick dreams of Harry's disorder.
____________________________________________________________________
This was really long, I think.
Sorry!
Hope you guys liked it<3
Louis is a freak... yes or yes? ;)
Much love,
Amber
(Harry's POV next!)