Well, this was short and pointless.
I don’t know, there are so many short little one shots that have no origin or purpose that have taken a home within my laptop memory.
Seriously, someone take my keyboard away.
I need more sleep.
It’s 11:32 AM.
As usual, I own nothing concerning One Direction.
Harry x Louis.
Pure innocence, don’t worry.
Blue leveled hues tainted with an abundance gray merriment flashed his way as they glanced towards Zayn’s slump figure. They were on their tour bus, heading to Tampa Florida; nearing the end of their tour but never letting up the innocent plans of entertainment on their lecherous ride.
“Just sprinkle it, he’s not allergic.”
“Hazza, are you sure?”
“DON’T call me that.”
Sighing in annoyance, he reached over Zayn’s peacefully sleeping form as he wrapped his large hands around the container of salt, looking up slightly and finding himself nose to nose with his friend, his friend.
He felt timid muscled arms wrap themselves across his broad shoulders as a small smile was sent his way, his own face a mere reflection of the other; his dimples exhibited profoundly.
Engrossed within their own reality, traded glances whispered foreclosed emotions that swept through the both of them, something they couldn’t hide even if they tried.
And oh, they did.
“Now boys, as much as I ship Larry Stylinson” a voice interrupted their brief entrapment of the other, two sets of puzzled eyes turned looked downward at a slowly awakening Zayn.
“I’d like to be able to stretch my back muscles, if you don’t mind.” He laughed softly, both boys breaking apart immediately and glancing about separate windows; attempting to shake off whatever sentiment that held them both momentarily.
With simple caresses, he whispered promises of love into curled locks; never failing to tug and pull at the glorious brown mane placed within his tanned finger tips. Crooked teeth contorted into a soft smile, lips trailing paths down the contours of dimpled cheeks, a blush painting across them half-hazardly.
“Niall, oh Niall.” The hushed whispers sent tremors down his spine, shy hands grasping at his timid hips and tugging him down, further into the abyss of the man he couldn’t’ fathom his life lacking in that moment.
Withholding a moan, hips moving in sync with the other in a battle for mock dominance, ushering a new wave of heat to circulate around the two withering forms.
“Niall, come on…” a melodic voice slapped his mind into a push back into reality as he awoke in a cold sweat, his arousal clear beneath pale blue sheets strewn about his shaken body.
Confused hues of darkened blue arose to meet amused green as a chuckle escaped the confines of an elongated throat.
A sudden wash of immediate hatred and vile disgust filled his once soothed senses as he shoved the older away and sprang forth from the comfort hold of his bed, the sun seemingly shinning a path towards the welcoming doorway of the bathroom.
As he made his way into the threshold, he turned around swiftly at the sound a throat clearing behind him.
“Don’t take too long, your mother and I would like to start eating lunch as its warm, rather than the latter. You might want to take care of your problem as well, huh son?” the mocking tone didn’t evade Niall as he slammed his bathroom door shut, sliding against the white frame and pulling his legs into his chest, breathing heavily and attempting to calm his raging anger coursing through his tired veins.
Harry Styles, his mother’s husband, his step father; and the object of his utter hate and ….. utmost attraction.
Should I continue this?
I don’t know, I was just writing and this is what happened.
But should I, is it worth it?