Breaking All The Rules (Larry Stylinson)
Chapter twelve
My heart flutters at the sound of Harry’s words. Did he just tell me he loves me? He couldn’t have, we’ve only known each other a few days, there’s no way he loves me already. Or does he? The look on his face tells me he meant it.
“You what?”
“I love you, Louis,” he repeats. Butterflies flutter around in my stomach. Nobody has ever told me they love me before and meant it.
“You do?” I nearly whisper.
He nods and moves his lips closer to mine. “I do.”
He brushes his lips against mine and sends a shiver down my spine. His hands find their way up to my cheeks, the warmth of his fingertips against my skin making my head spin.
“Say it again,” I beg.
“I love you,” he tells me, his voice insanely deep.
I press my mouth harder onto his, trying to deepen the kiss, but he won’t let me.
“Let’s go home first,” he suggests. “We need to get out of public.”
“Okay,” I agree, knowing exactly what he means.
We find our way back to the bus station and take the first bus back to San Francisco. The ride is a little shorter than it was on the way there and that’s definitely not something to complain about. We walk from the bus stop to my house and I shakily unlock the door. Harry follows me inside and down the hallway to my bedroom where I pull the curtains shut so there’s no way anyone can see what we’re doing. When I turn around, Harry is staring at me and I can’t be apart from him any longer. I throw him down onto my bed and climb on top of him, pinning his shoulders down so he can’t get up. I press my lips to his hungrily and I feel my heart start racing. I trace his bottom lip with my tongue and it doesn’t take long for him to let me in. The taste of his mouth is driving me insane and I know it’s time for me to do something for him.
I place kisses along his jaw and down his neck, fumbling with the hem of his shirt at the same time. I pull it over the top of his head and toss it to the floor, only breaking contact for a second before crashing my lips back onto his. He bites my bottom lip playfully and I can’t wait anymore. I unbutton his pants and slide them down his legs and toss them to the floor on top of his shirt.
“Louis-“ he begins to protest.
“Shhh, Harry. Let me do this for you,” I say in almost the exact words he told me last night.
He closes his eyes as I hook my finger under the band of his boxers. I feel his muschles tense up under my touch. Slowly, I pull the boxers down his legs, exposing his erection. I’m taken aback by how large he is and, honestly, it’s quite intimidating.
I try to remember what he did to me on the couch last night and I do my best to imitate it. I wrap my fingers around him, feeling him tense up under my touch. I close my eyes and dip my head down, opening my mouth in the process. I feel him begin to slide into my mouth and I’m already nervous. I want this to be as good for him as it was for me last night.
I press my tongue against his skin, just as he did to me last night. I know how good that felt, and obviously so does he, so I figure it’s a good place to start. I take more of his length into my mouth, moving my head up and down as much as I’m able to.
“Faster, Louis,” Harry moans.
I do as I’m told and increase my speed. This isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it might be and I’m really enjoying it. I hope Harry is, too. I hear a moan coming from the top of the bed which tells me that he is.
“You’re good at this,” he whispers, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket.
I take him as deep as I can and the way his hips buck up off the bed lets me know he’s getting close.
“Louis,” he groans.
I feel warm liquid shoot down my throat, a feeling very foreign to me. It doesn’t taste bad, really, it’s just bitter.
When he’s done, I pull off of him and crawl up to the top of the bed. I lay down on my stomach next to him, my head resting on my arms.
I watch Harry’s chest rise and fall as he calms himself down, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips held tightly together. His curls are pushed back off his forehead and his tattoos are breathtaking.
“You’re staring at me,” he says after a while.
I turn my head and look at the wall, embarrassed to be caught watching him.
“It’s okay,” he tells me.
Before I have a chance to say something, there’s a pounding at the front door.
“What the hell? Get dressed,” I say, getting up from the bed. I fix my hair in the bathroom mirror before I go out to the living room to see who could possibly be here right now.
I pull the door open to see Max standing on my steps.
“What?”
“We found him,” he says, pushing his way past me into the living room.
“Found who?”
“The guy who killed Jack, who else? Where’s your head man?”
Back in my room with Harry.
“You’re right, sorry, I’m just tired. What did you do to him?”
“We killed him, of course,” he replies casually.
“No, what did you really do to him?”
“We killed him, Louis. I was serious.”
This is an extreme shock to me. Of course that’s what gangs are supposed to do but our gang has never actually killed anyone before.
“Where’s his body?”
“We stuffed it in a corner in his attic behind some boxes,” he says as he takes a seat on the couch.
“Listen, Max, as much as I’d like to sit around and talk about your heinous crime, I’m exhausted. Maybe you should come back tomorrow or something.”
There’s no way I’m going to risk him finding Harry. What will I tell him?
“Nah, man, that’s okay. You can go sleep, I’ll hang around here for a bit,” he says, kicking his feet up on the arm of the couch. “If I need anything I’ll just wake you up.”
I roll my eyes and start walking back to my room. To my surprise and horror, when I’m about halfway down the hall, Harry emerges from the bedroom.
“Who was that?” He asks.
I hear Max moving from the living room and I know it’s too late to hide Harry. I feel my stomach drop and I feel as if I’m going to throw up.
“What the hell? Tomlinson! What’s he doing here?!”
“I don’t know,” I say. I shoot Harry a look before turning around to face Max. “He showed up just before you did, probably trying to prove himself again or some shit.”
“Come on, Styles, you know you’re no better than you were last time,” Max says to Harry. “This is why you wanted me to leave, isn’t it? You wanted him all to yourself,” he says to me.
“Yeah,” I lie.
I did want him all to myself, but for a different reason.
“Well, now there’s two of us to teach him his lesson,” he says with a smile. He cracks his knuckles and neck and moves closer to Harry.
“No, Max, I got it,” I tell him, putting my hands up in an attempt to keep him back.
He shrugs his shoulders and flops back down on the couch.
“Let’s see it then.”
“I don’t really want an audience,” I try.
“It’s always better with an audience,” he argues.
I can tell already that he’s not leaving until I beat the fuck out of Harry. I feel sick to my stomach knowing what I’m about to do and I hate myself for it. I know Harry knows it’s going to happen and I hope he fights me back. I’m going to deserve it.
I crack my knuckles and get ready to beat Harry up. He steps towards me and does the same, a fiery look in his eyes. He’s really good at putting on a fake image. At least, I hope it’s fake.
“Come on, Tomlinson, I don’t have all night!” Harry yells at me.
His words sting but I push the feeling aside. I want him to throw the first punch so I don’t feel so bad.
“Ah, you’re just a fucking pussy! I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it,” he taunts.
Tears begin to sting the back of my eyes at his words but I know I can’t let Max see me cry.
“Damn, Louis, if you don’t man up no one is ever going to love you,” he continues.
That’s the final straw. Something inside me breaks at his comment and I lunge at him. I send a punch at his face, hitting him right in the nose. There’s a disgusting crunch and blood starts pouring down his face. I swing again and hit him in the cheek, my impact sure to leave a bruise.
“You fucking dick! You broke my nose!” He yells. This time I know he isn’t just acting. He really called me a dick and meant it. I think he was trying for a fake fight.
“I’m gonna be sick!” I cover my mouth and run to the bathroom, leaving and amused Max and a bloody Harry in my living room.
After throwing up everything I’ve eaten in the past 24 hours, I sit down on the cold linoleum of the bathroom. I feel terrible for breaking Harry’s nose and I know he’s pissed at me. I wouldn’t blame him if he actually hates me now and I wouldn’t even try to convince him otherwise.
“You what?”
“I love you, Louis,” he repeats. Butterflies flutter around in my stomach. Nobody has ever told me they love me before and meant it.
“You do?” I nearly whisper.
He nods and moves his lips closer to mine. “I do.”
He brushes his lips against mine and sends a shiver down my spine. His hands find their way up to my cheeks, the warmth of his fingertips against my skin making my head spin.
“Say it again,” I beg.
“I love you,” he tells me, his voice insanely deep.
I press my mouth harder onto his, trying to deepen the kiss, but he won’t let me.
“Let’s go home first,” he suggests. “We need to get out of public.”
“Okay,” I agree, knowing exactly what he means.
We find our way back to the bus station and take the first bus back to San Francisco. The ride is a little shorter than it was on the way there and that’s definitely not something to complain about. We walk from the bus stop to my house and I shakily unlock the door. Harry follows me inside and down the hallway to my bedroom where I pull the curtains shut so there’s no way anyone can see what we’re doing. When I turn around, Harry is staring at me and I can’t be apart from him any longer. I throw him down onto my bed and climb on top of him, pinning his shoulders down so he can’t get up. I press my lips to his hungrily and I feel my heart start racing. I trace his bottom lip with my tongue and it doesn’t take long for him to let me in. The taste of his mouth is driving me insane and I know it’s time for me to do something for him.
I place kisses along his jaw and down his neck, fumbling with the hem of his shirt at the same time. I pull it over the top of his head and toss it to the floor, only breaking contact for a second before crashing my lips back onto his. He bites my bottom lip playfully and I can’t wait anymore. I unbutton his pants and slide them down his legs and toss them to the floor on top of his shirt.
“Louis-“ he begins to protest.
“Shhh, Harry. Let me do this for you,” I say in almost the exact words he told me last night.
He closes his eyes as I hook my finger under the band of his boxers. I feel his muschles tense up under my touch. Slowly, I pull the boxers down his legs, exposing his erection. I’m taken aback by how large he is and, honestly, it’s quite intimidating.
I try to remember what he did to me on the couch last night and I do my best to imitate it. I wrap my fingers around him, feeling him tense up under my touch. I close my eyes and dip my head down, opening my mouth in the process. I feel him begin to slide into my mouth and I’m already nervous. I want this to be as good for him as it was for me last night.
I press my tongue against his skin, just as he did to me last night. I know how good that felt, and obviously so does he, so I figure it’s a good place to start. I take more of his length into my mouth, moving my head up and down as much as I’m able to.
“Faster, Louis,” Harry moans.
I do as I’m told and increase my speed. This isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it might be and I’m really enjoying it. I hope Harry is, too. I hear a moan coming from the top of the bed which tells me that he is.
“You’re good at this,” he whispers, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket.
I take him as deep as I can and the way his hips buck up off the bed lets me know he’s getting close.
“Louis,” he groans.
I feel warm liquid shoot down my throat, a feeling very foreign to me. It doesn’t taste bad, really, it’s just bitter.
When he’s done, I pull off of him and crawl up to the top of the bed. I lay down on my stomach next to him, my head resting on my arms.
I watch Harry’s chest rise and fall as he calms himself down, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips held tightly together. His curls are pushed back off his forehead and his tattoos are breathtaking.
“You’re staring at me,” he says after a while.
I turn my head and look at the wall, embarrassed to be caught watching him.
“It’s okay,” he tells me.
Before I have a chance to say something, there’s a pounding at the front door.
“What the hell? Get dressed,” I say, getting up from the bed. I fix my hair in the bathroom mirror before I go out to the living room to see who could possibly be here right now.
I pull the door open to see Max standing on my steps.
“What?”
“We found him,” he says, pushing his way past me into the living room.
“Found who?”
“The guy who killed Jack, who else? Where’s your head man?”
Back in my room with Harry.
“You’re right, sorry, I’m just tired. What did you do to him?”
“We killed him, of course,” he replies casually.
“No, what did you really do to him?”
“We killed him, Louis. I was serious.”
This is an extreme shock to me. Of course that’s what gangs are supposed to do but our gang has never actually killed anyone before.
“Where’s his body?”
“We stuffed it in a corner in his attic behind some boxes,” he says as he takes a seat on the couch.
“Listen, Max, as much as I’d like to sit around and talk about your heinous crime, I’m exhausted. Maybe you should come back tomorrow or something.”
There’s no way I’m going to risk him finding Harry. What will I tell him?
“Nah, man, that’s okay. You can go sleep, I’ll hang around here for a bit,” he says, kicking his feet up on the arm of the couch. “If I need anything I’ll just wake you up.”
I roll my eyes and start walking back to my room. To my surprise and horror, when I’m about halfway down the hall, Harry emerges from the bedroom.
“Who was that?” He asks.
I hear Max moving from the living room and I know it’s too late to hide Harry. I feel my stomach drop and I feel as if I’m going to throw up.
“What the hell? Tomlinson! What’s he doing here?!”
“I don’t know,” I say. I shoot Harry a look before turning around to face Max. “He showed up just before you did, probably trying to prove himself again or some shit.”
“Come on, Styles, you know you’re no better than you were last time,” Max says to Harry. “This is why you wanted me to leave, isn’t it? You wanted him all to yourself,” he says to me.
“Yeah,” I lie.
I did want him all to myself, but for a different reason.
“Well, now there’s two of us to teach him his lesson,” he says with a smile. He cracks his knuckles and neck and moves closer to Harry.
“No, Max, I got it,” I tell him, putting my hands up in an attempt to keep him back.
He shrugs his shoulders and flops back down on the couch.
“Let’s see it then.”
“I don’t really want an audience,” I try.
“It’s always better with an audience,” he argues.
I can tell already that he’s not leaving until I beat the fuck out of Harry. I feel sick to my stomach knowing what I’m about to do and I hate myself for it. I know Harry knows it’s going to happen and I hope he fights me back. I’m going to deserve it.
I crack my knuckles and get ready to beat Harry up. He steps towards me and does the same, a fiery look in his eyes. He’s really good at putting on a fake image. At least, I hope it’s fake.
“Come on, Tomlinson, I don’t have all night!” Harry yells at me.
His words sting but I push the feeling aside. I want him to throw the first punch so I don’t feel so bad.
“Ah, you’re just a fucking pussy! I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it,” he taunts.
Tears begin to sting the back of my eyes at his words but I know I can’t let Max see me cry.
“Damn, Louis, if you don’t man up no one is ever going to love you,” he continues.
That’s the final straw. Something inside me breaks at his comment and I lunge at him. I send a punch at his face, hitting him right in the nose. There’s a disgusting crunch and blood starts pouring down his face. I swing again and hit him in the cheek, my impact sure to leave a bruise.
“You fucking dick! You broke my nose!” He yells. This time I know he isn’t just acting. He really called me a dick and meant it. I think he was trying for a fake fight.
“I’m gonna be sick!” I cover my mouth and run to the bathroom, leaving and amused Max and a bloody Harry in my living room.
After throwing up everything I’ve eaten in the past 24 hours, I sit down on the cold linoleum of the bathroom. I feel terrible for breaking Harry’s nose and I know he’s pissed at me. I wouldn’t blame him if he actually hates me now and I wouldn’t even try to convince him otherwise.
Please update
1/17/14