#TLATL2

[looselucy]

MA / 4615 words

A series of one-shots - Read the first here

Childhood friends - NYE 2016

Part One

One morning, late July, I had woken to see that Harry Styles was slumbering beside me. He had looked beautiful, with his newly cut hair tousled and falling over his face, his breathing slow and pushing through his parted lips. The silent sun was overflowing into my room through my sheer curtains, giving an ethereal glow that made love to his soft features, gliding down his jaw and curving over his lips. He looked stunning. On New Year’s Eve, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.

He’d left me with a final, chaste kiss and a dopey smile on his face, and we’d fallen back into old habits, where we didn’t talk or text or even really acknowledge one another at all. Things went back to normal, and I continued with my life like nothing had ever happened. He just started crossing my mind more. Despite our childhood together, and his great fame, Harry Styles never used to cross my mind that often. Whenever I saw the Daily Mail talking shit about him or heard one of their songs, I had wondered how he was doing, but it was never much more than that. After spending a night with him, he crossed my mind so much more. I’d find myself thinking of his lips daily, or his hands, or his voice. He began crossing my mind more than any other person in my life did. In all honesty, it was slightly infuriating. And on New Year’s Eve, it just got worse. He’d made me promise that I would leave Swanage and make an appearance in Holmes Chapel to enter the New Year, and he’d promised too. I should have been seeing him that night, but I also knew that it was likely that he’d left for London or LA to continue with his interesting, extravagant life. I’d heard he was around, but I’d seen no evidence myself. I kept unlocking and locking my phone again, laying on top of the single bed in the room where I had grown up, surrounded by shoddy drawings and teddies and a poster or five of Westlife, debating whether I should text him or not. Then my phone lit up in my hand. Haz: Little Lulu Lamb? “No fucking way.” I gasped, bolting upright. “No. Fucking. Way.” My heart fluttered at the thought that maybe Harry had been doing the same thing, sat with his phone in his hand and fighting the thoughts of texting me or not. My stomach was in tatters. Lulu: Who’s this? Changed my number in the hope of getting that Harry Styles lad off my back. Haz: Don’t blame you. Real twat that lad. I felt sick. It was almost frustrating the feelings he could force on me in just a few words. It was something I was totally unfamiliar with. I wondered how he felt when he thought of me. Lulu: He really is. Ugly too. Haz: That just hurts. (You’ve been hunt down, by the way. It’s me. Harry.) Lulu: What an unfortunate turn of events. Haz: I was just wondering if you’ve kept your promise? Lulu: I was wondering the same thing about you. I don’t know why I was so eager for him to still be around. I didn’t know how things would be between us, other than bloody awkward. What had happened that night was totally sporadic and spontaneous, and he probably regretted it as soon as it ended. I can’t say I was expecting a repeat, but I still wanted to see him. I wanted to be around him, to know how things would be between us. I just wanted to see him. Haz: I’m around. Supposed to be going to a house party. Lulu: Me too, I’m going with my mum round to her friend Carols. I think it’s going to be relatively tame. Haz: That’s where I’m going. Lulu: What? Seriously? Haz: She’s my auntie. So I’ll see you there. Lulu: I hate coming from such a small place. There’s no avoiding you, is there? It sometimes felt like joking with him and faking was the only way I could actually interact with him without just gushing and fanning myself constantly. I was grateful we’d be drinking again, because when he’d entered my home, I’d barely been able to function around him until we opened the first bottle of wine. He was captivating, in the type of way that eased me and put me on edge at the same time, like somehow he was both the calm and the storm. Haz: You’re stuck with me now, Little Lulu Lamb. Sorry. Lulu: I suppose I’ll see you tonight then. Haz: I suppose you will.

Part Two

I swear, his eyes lit up as soon as he saw me. He was stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching a woman with fascination in his eyes as she spoke about something or nothing, and I watched as his head lifted, almost like he’d been checking the doorway and just waiting for me to arrive. His teeth showed almost instantly, his dimples digging into his cheeks, and the colour of my own cheeks may as well have dyed the entire room pink. I was pretty much glued to my spot as I watched him politely bid his farewells and remove himself from the conversation, changing his wide grin to a tight smirk. He was dressed head to toe in black; a simple black shirt, black skinny jeans, and some heeled boots that gave him an extra boost of height that he didn’t necessarily need. “We meet again.” He smirked. “We do.” There was such a palpable shake in my voice, and I was ten times more nervous than I had been when he appeared at my front door in July. I raised my drink to my lips immediately, hoping it would play its role quickly. “You look amazing.” He commented. Of course, I then choked on my drink, quickly diminishing his compliment as red wine jammed down my throat and splattered into my face, rapidly whipping the glass away from my face and grimacing profusely. He was calm and chuckling as he hit my back a few time, staring down to me with an endeared grin as I attempted to find some control, wiping the wine off my face and despising myself. “For fuck sake, Haz.” “What?” “Don’t compliment me!” I demanded. “Why?” “Because it makes me… weird. You make me weird.” “Well, I’m sorry.” He held up both hands in surrender. “I didn’t realise I had that effect on you.” “I actually think you’re well aware of the effect you have on me, and you love it, and that’s why you do it.” He shrugged, a cocky look on his face as he tried to act nonchalant about the fact that I knew his damn game and it was entirely successful. He reached his hand to my face, gently rubbing his thumb to predictably get rid of a little splatter of wine that I hadn’t caught, eyes low. “Told you before… I like the colour you go when you blush.” He shrugged. “Looks good on you.” I slapped his hand away, scowling playfully at him and wondering where our night would take us. I attempted to drink my wine again, successful the second time around, hating that he held himself so close to me and looked down at me like that. He was insistent on making me weak and it fuelled him to see me struggling. “Where’s your drink?” I asked him. “Don’t have one.” “Don’t tell me you’re not drinking.” I groaned. “It’s barely fucking eight o’clock! I’m taking it steady, give me a chance.” He fought. I shook my head at him, my wine glass pressed against my bottom lip and disappointment in my eyes, and I stayed that way until he cracked, rolling his eyes and grabbing my hand and dragging me through to the dining room. We barely had a foot through the door when I heard an almighty squeal. My mother came bounding over to us with her arms already outstretched, just waiting to grab at Harry’s cheeks, which she did as soon as she reached him, pinching them and squishing them, but I swear Harry looked so damn happy. “You get taller every time I see you!” She squealed. “It’s the boots!” I butt in. “Don’t expose me!” He cried. “Nice to see you again, Susan.” I filtered out of their chat pretty quickly, my mum dragging on about how proud she and the whole village were of him, and about how she could still remember the first time I brought him around to our house and he’d called her Miss Lambert all night, no matter how many times she insisted that he call her Susan. I completely zoned out, and I just looked at him. I watched the way he interacted with her, his eyes full of kindness and his cheeks still a little pink from where she had grabbed them. I’d never been the type of person who could be casual with people. Maybe an all of nothing type of person. Harry was the first person that I’d spent one night with, had casual sex with, but I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think I’d see much of him. I thought maybe we’d go years without seeing each other again. I could be casual with Harry because I had to be casual with Harry. Watching him interact with my mother, recalling the childhood we’d spent together, I felt the fucking opposite of casual.

Part Three

“Can I kiss you? At midnight?” Harry asked me. “I… I… What?” I mumbled. “Well we’ve done it before, might as well do it again.” He shrugged. We’d been glued at the hip all night, probably annoyingly so. We caught up with one another’s families, old friends, Harry had taken some pictures with people he didn’t know as well, and finally started drinking at some point, but we’d barely spent five minutes apart. We’d laughed and joked and talked and I’d eased with each passing second. It was almost like he got bored of my irregular calmness, and wanted to ruin it again. “You want to kiss me?” “Or I could go and find James Turner for you. I’m sure he’d love to make that rumour a reality.” I smacked his arm playfully, knowing that we were only a few minutes away from the countdown, meaning we were only a few minutes away from the kiss he was suggesting. I looked anywhere but into his eyes, glancing out to the room around us. “You don’t want to kiss me.” I shook my head. “Don’t I?” “It takes one person in this party who’s a fucking prick, to take a photo of us kissing and sell it on. Then even fucking Holmes Chapel is tainted for you. I’d hate that.” He moved so he could infiltrate my vision, standing dead ahead of me and making sure that I couldn’t avoid his gaze. I looked up to him hesitantly, seeing the strange look his face, like he was confused or contemplative. His brows were knitted tightly together, his lips almost pouted, slowly emitting a heavy sigh. “Little Lulu Lamb, I’ve actually never wanted to kiss you more than I do right now.” “Wh-what?” “That trust that I spoke about with you… back in July. It’s just… I dunno.” He dropped his head. “I’m just glad I was right. It’s nice to have someone I know I can trust. Weird, but nice.” People were beginning to flock towards the living room, pushing past us as we stared at one another, kind of ignoring the bustle around us as people prepared to group together and enter 2017. Once again, I thought about how much of an honour it was to possess his trust, and how I’d do anything to keep it. I wasn’t sure why he felt that way with me, but maybe there was just something between us, something we didn’t even really need to speak about, something I didn’t really need to prove or voice, but more just something he could feel. “I’m glad you trust me.” I choked, eventually. “So… No kiss?” “Unfortunately not.” He smiled, then ticked his head towards the crowd. “C’mon, lets join the troops.” We made our way to the crowd, Harry halting me at the back of the group by pinching his fingers at my waist, stood just behind me and pulling my body back into his. I could just about see the footage of London on the TV through the crowd, but when it reached the sixty second countdown, Harry began to snake his arms around my waist, balancing his chin on the top of my head, and I was sure things around me genuinely started to blur. He was holding me like we’d been that way together a million times, like our bodies just fit together naturally. It was such a simple way for our bodies to link, and yet it still made me feel woozy. I lolled my head back just slightly, flopping it against his chest and closing my eyes, his hands on my stomach making me feel sick, in the best, most confusing way imaginable. I joined in for the ten second countdown, trying to cloak the fact that I was near bloody breathless, and aching as his arms tightened even more, and he lowered his head so it was hovered over my shoulder, the two of us cheek to cheek. It took all my might not to turn my head and kiss him as soon as it struck midnight. My stomach jolted even more, watching the entire room erupt into happy celebrations, people hugging and kissing and sharing in the moment. Harry moved his lips to my ear, and his hot breath warped over my skin, goose-bumps working their way over my entire body. “Do you want to know what I’d been doing to you if we were alone?” He spoke, quiet enough to only reach my ears. “Harry-” I gasped, closing my eyes. “I’d have my lips on yours, my hand up your dress, my fingers feeling how wet you are for me. Because you are, aren’t you?” “Yes.” I whispered shakily. “Feel how hard I am for you.” He lowered one hand, pushing at the bottom of my stomach so my hips moved backwards, my arse pressing to his groin, feeling his dick pressed hard within the fabric, straining the material and pushing against me. My breath caught in my throat, pushing back even more without even meaning to, feeling the way his dick felt against me, and how that made me feel in return. “If we were on our own right now, I would be fucking you. Hard.” He continued. “You’re all I’ve thought about for months. I want to see you weak again. I want to see you on your knees.” I almost started whimpering, trying to be aware of our surroundings but just wishing we were on our own somewhere, back in my flat in fucking Swanage so that he could be doing everything he wanted to. He was thriving off the fact that he could say all this in a room full of people without being heard, where he could push me to my limit and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. The room was beginning to calm down once more, so he took his final opportunity, gently latching his teeth on my earlobe, tugging harshly before completely detaching from me, leaving my stumbling back, my legs shaking. He came around and stood ahead of me as the room began to disperse, grabbing the bottle of beer from my trembling hand and taking a smug sip. “You’re going to kill me.” I managed to splutter. “Me?” He faked. “I didn’t do anything! I just wished you a Happy New Year!” “I hate you.” “I don’t believe that for a second.” He passed me my beer back over, holding it out low for me so that when I went to reach back for it, I had to look down, see the bulge in his jeans. His moves always seemed to be so calculated, so thought out, it made my head spin. That thought, and the sight, of course. I whipped my head back up to see his face, the way he lifted his brows, and smirked once more. “Am I that transparent?” I shuddered. “I can read you like a fucking book, Lamb.” I shook my head, forcing down a smile and hoping my cheeks weren’t once again turning into that colour he loved so much. “If I’m a lamb, you’re definitely a lion.” My words made him grin, sending the smile out towards the rest of the room momentarily before looking back to me, wetting his full lips, and once again leaving me breathless.

Part Four

“Can you believe we used to do this every day?” He tittered. He was walking me home, just like he used to do after school, when we’d wander down these same streets together, being just as mean to each other as we were then, pushing and poking fun. I would have never thought that we’d be doing the same thing so many years later, especially after everything that had changed. “It’s weird to think… Ten years ago, we were doing this same thing. Except, not drunk.” I giggled. “Fuck… That is weird! We’ve known each other for far too long. I should be bored of you by now.” “Bored of me? Do you get bored of people?” “Some.” He shrugged. “I think it’s one of the worst things about me. But… I don’t really have a middle ground. The ones who stick… they’re there forever, y’know?” “So when do you think you’ll get bored of me?” I asked, my heels clasped between my fingers and my bare feet slapping on the concrete. “I’m not sure I will, that’s the thing.” I shook off his words instantly with a shake of my head, because before that night and before July, we’d gone years without talking to each other. I didn’t think it was out of boredom, but more that the two of us could just naturally fall apart, and then fall back together. I wasn’t the type to stick. We were pretty quiet as we finally reached my home, the two of us looking up to the building I had grown up in, Harry digging his hands into his pockets. “So,” He swallowed. “Are we saying goodnight now? Or… is there still some of the night left?” “My room is bright pink and I have a single bed. I also have five Westlife posters.” “Fan of boybands?” He sneered. “Only Westlife. The rest are shit.” “Fuck you.” “So… I would love to, but… I also think that I would be so fucking embarrassed that I couldn’t fully enjoy myself.” I sighed honestly. “So…” “Lulu, please tell me you know that people often fuck in places other than bedrooms.” “What?” I gasped dramatically. “I had no idea!” He rolled his eyes at my sarcasm, running his tongue over the top row of his teeth, hiding a smile. He took a steady step towards me, eyes alight. “How many rooms does this house have that aren’t pink, and don’t have any Westlife posters?” “Uh… more so than do.” I quaked. “Then… maybe we could use one of those?” “And if my mum walks in?” I raised my brows. “Well… let’s hope she doesn’t grab my cheeks this time.” I let out a breathy laugh down to the floor, wishing I had some more gumption and an ability to say no to him, but I didn’t. I would have loved to be able to leave him hanging, wanting me and thinking of me, teasing him in the way he had done me all damn night, but I couldn’t. “Fine.” I sighed, defeated. “Come on then.” I got to see his satisfied smile grow before I turned on my heel, walking down the driveway and through the front door, locking up once he was finally indoors with me. “It looks exactly the same.” He sniggered. “Susan Lambert doesn’t like change so much.” I told him. “Do you want a drink?” “Yeah.” My mother was still at the party, thankfully, meaning the two of us didn’t need to whisper or hush our experience, and meaning that we had the house to ourselves, hopefully for as long as we’d need it. I walked into the kitchen, Harry on my heel as I approached the fridge, grabbing us both a bottle of beer before moving to the counter, reaching for the bottle opener in the hope of cracking our beers open, but my efforts fell flat. Harry appeared behind me, pushing my body with his so my hips crashing with a thud against the kitchen counter, his hands automatically moving to lift my dress, gathering it around my stomach as his lips worked down my neck, pushing himself against my bum. “I can’t explain how badly I want you.” He mumbled to my skin. “I can’t explain what you do to me.” He grunted against my neck, licking and biting sweetly at my skin, completely trapped between his tense body and the counter, moaning alongside his harsh touches, the bottle of beer falling from my hand and crashing onto the worktop. His fingers hooked through either side of my lace knickers, my neck snapping back. “Rip them off.” I gasped. “Harry, rip them, please.” The sound of the material snapping almost made me scream, Harry cursing harshly in my ear as he scrambled to undo his zipper, gasping and rushing through the process until I felt his hand push down at the top of my back, my body almost horizontal on the counter as he hitched my dress up one last time, and forced himself into me. “Fuck!” He gasped his relief. “Holy fuck.” He reached to lace his fingers through my hair before he began pushing, removing himself right to the tip before he’d thrust back into me, his grip on my hair hostile and beautiful. Pleasure worked its way through my body, biting my bottom lip and trying not to scream, my hipbones hurting as they crashed into the counter over and over again, likely to be leaving bruises but I didn’t even care. He felt amazing, fucking into me like that with no caution, no calmness. He fucked me like he was desperate, lost within the different man he became when it came to sex, the harsh contrast of the soft boy with the beaming smile to someone else, someone who would grip my hair and bend me over and fuck me in the way he did. I’d never known anything like it. He pulled at my hair, starting to drag me so that I was upright. I followed his lead, turning my head as he forced his lips onto mine, grunting fiercely to me, his hands moving to grab my waist. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” His rough love spurred my honesty. “Do you touch yourself, when you think of me?” “Yes.” “Show me.” I screamed as he turned my body around, picked me up by my waist and placed me onto the counter, spreading my legs for me as I lifted my dress to show him my wet heat, reaching down to myself as he took a step back so he could watch me clearly, the moonlight beating in through the window as he took hold of himself, licking his lips and pumping his hand. I closed my eyes and lost my senses, rubbing over myself with speed, my body jolting and my moans feeble, before hesitantly opening my eyes again, watching his quick movements as we pleasured ourselves in front of one another, his teeth trapping his bottom lip and his brows low. I fell silent as I pushed myself to finish, my whole body sparking shakes in a thousand different areas, feeling faint and lost for a moment before he spoke. “Taste me.” He groaned, his head falling back and his mouth falling open. “Please just… fuck.” My legs couldn’t carry my weight as I dropped from the counter and back onto the floor, trembling as then fell to my knees in front of him, grabbing my left hand around his leg so I could keep myself upright whilst my other hand reached for his dick, replacing the same movements of his hands for a few moments before I widened my mouth and took as much of him as I could, near choking on the size of him. His fingers once again found their way into my hair as I moved around him, slacking my jaw and tracing my tongue over the perfect lines of him, the taste bitter but sweet, a new form of pleasure working through me. The sound of his moans inspired me to look up to him, seeing that he was already looking down at me, and when our eyes met like that, he finished, his warm pleasure exploding into my mouth, gluing against my tongue and my tonsils. I pulled away so that he fell from my mouth, swallowing the juices as Harry fell down to his knees, cursing to himself once he was on the floor with me, weak and tired. Both on our knees, we stayed that way for a while, trying to breathe steadily, and my eyes kept flitting back to him, noting how perfect he looked whilst coming down from his high, and with sweat glistening his perfect skin. I giggled to myself as I fell even more, sprawling myself over the kitchen floor, facing the ceiling with my hand laying on my chest, feeling the way it crashed against its cage. Harry soon joined me, the two of us smiling together, side my side, gazing up to nothing. We lay that way for a while before he spoke. “I like us together.” He was still struggling to catch his breath. “What?” “We work well together.” “Fuck. I… Yeah. I guess we do.” Another few minutes passed, the two of us silently calming, the cold tiles warming beneath us as they became accustom to our bodies. Harry then lifted himself, leaning his weight on one elbow so he could gaze down to me, his temples pulsing. “You should come and see me.” “What?” “I’m gunna be in London for a while now. You should… come and see me.” “I… I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” He chuckled. “That just… feels intense.” “As opposed to tonight, where we’ve been really casual.” He joked. I broke eye contact with him, rubbing my hand over my eyes and trying to wrap my head around what he was suggesting. “You know what I mean.” I huffed. He moved my hand, forcing me to look back into his eyes, and I bit back to the truth. I refused to tell him that I couldn’t just feel casually about him, or see him as a friend I fucked occasionally. Going to London to see him couldn’t have been a wise option. And yet, that charm he possessed made him particularly hard to say no to. “Come and see me.” He said again. “Please.” He smiled a little, lips stretching into a shape I had to admire, still so pink then even the dark room couldn’t cast a shadow upon them. I closed my eyes, letting out a soft giggle, still shaking my head but caving. “Okay.” I sighed. “I’ll come and see you.”