Frostbite (16+)

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  • Published: 22 Nov 2013
  • Updated: 26 May 2014
  • Status: Complete
Harry is struggling with the sex addiction that controls his life, leaving him depressed and frustrated. On top of everything he's feeling a growing affection and sexual attraction toward his best friend, Louis. But it's surely because of his addiction, right?

Right.

(Also posted to 1DFF)

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11. And Harry Did

Harry tried to quietly enter the apartment. He was nervous and didn’t feel good at all, but he hoped that maybe Louis still was asleep. He hadn’t been gone for too long, really. And after all Louis usually could sleep through anything. Maybe his little getaway could pass unnoticed.

It was a short lived wish. As Harry was trying to carefully move through their apartment, he found Louis sleeping on the couch. On his way back, Harry had tried to think of ways to make all of this go away, he even thought he might have had a plan, but now he once more felt lost.

Harry sank to his knees by the couch while taking in the sight of Louis. So peaceful, a little bit of drool was collecting in the corner of his mouth and it was almost as if he half smiled in his sleep. Harry was mesmerized by the beauty that was Louis Tomlinson.

A faint smell of alcohol hit Harry’s face as he put it next to Louis’. But he didn’t look at the face that was breathing on his. His eyes wandered down the naked chest of Louis. It had a few scratch marks barely visible along the rib cage. Harry couldn’t help himself and just had to touch. He let his index finger trace the marks up the chest. And then float through the chest hairs that were only barely there. His thumb slightly stroked along the bruising on Louis’ neck as well. He never usually left hickeys, but in the heat of the moment he had just wanted to mark his territory. Louis was his to own.

Harry withdrew his hand and all physical contact once Louis suddenly moved on the couch. For a split second, Harry was sure Louis would stay asleep, but he was wrong. A low groan of discomfort escaped his lips and his eyebrows furrowed just a bit before his eyes cracked open.

For a few seconds no one said anything, but to Harry it felt like agonizing hours. He wanted to throw up and faint and just simply die all at once. As he was holding his breath, Louis was drawing in air to say something, before most of it came out again without a sound. Except one simple whisper: “Harry?”

Harry who? Harry had never in his entire life felt suspense like the kind that was building up now. It was one hundred percent crazy. He was going crazy. This whole situation was insane.
“Are you okay?” Harry was impressed that he managed to squeeze those three words out, because it felt like he was about to collapse.

“No,” Louis replied and pouted. Harry pulled away, ready to escape. Ready to jump of a bridge, overdose and shoot himself all at the same time. Whatever was the quickest solution. But before he managed to do anything even slightly drastic, Louis continued.
“I’m so fucking sore and have burns on my back after fucking on the floor and a hangover from hell… and where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried sick, you little piece of shit.”   


Relief. Every part of Harry started relaxing, even his tensed up shoulders. Even his lips. He still felt confused, but all discomfort disappeared. He could finally breathe without suffocating on his own self hate and shame.

Louis stretched out one arm, inviting Harry closer. The distance between them was in no way big, but Harry still removed it as he came closer. Actually, he came very close. Still seated on the floor, he let his head down on the same pillow Louis rested his head on.

“Where have you been?” Louis’ words were soft now, nothing like before. He had activated his comforting tone. The one he used to the youngest girls they encountered. Oh, and when people was crying. Which made Harry want to cry. He really, really, really wanted to cry. This right here was the moment to let it all out. The tears started stinging in his eyes, but they were building up so slowly that it was barely noticeable in the beginning.

“I am broken.” Harry became hoarse from all the emotion. He was shaking as well, especially when he looked into the patient eyes of his wet dream, best friend and fellow band mate.
“I have lost myself, Lou…”

It is never easy admitting something you feel shameful about. Sad and angry feelings are usually easier to put into words, but shame can eat you up. Harry felt like only crumbs of himself were left. Every word that could express his problems in a clear manner, were words that made him sick. Addiction, nymphomaniac and god forbid “inhabiting gay tendencies”, it was all bad. Wrong. Too hard to do.

“I don’t understand, Harry. Let me in properly and I’ll try to make everything okay.” Louis comforting words were not really comforting at all, but his gentle touch as his thumb dried one of Harry’s tears passed by as a symbol to Harry. Louis was right here with him, in the ruins of what used to be Harry Styles of One Direction.

“I can’t,” Harry almost choked out, and started sobbing. He was crying for real now. No single tear running down his cheek. All sluices opened.
“There’s nothing in there. I’m i-i-icy cold.”

Harry felt fear more than anything else. He was afraid he would hurt Louis by not being who he was supposed to be. His addiction had led to depression and his depression had led to second doubts about himself. Harry had become insecure.

“Is this about what happened last night?” Louis asked, but gave no time to reply before he drew in air and was ready to speak again.
“You don’t have to worry about that for a second, baby. Not even a teeny tiny bit.”

“I’m an addict,” Harry whispered. His voice was so low that Louis needed several seconds to even understand the words, but when he did his eyes grew wide. Wider than expected, Harry felt like he had to say the words he dreaded before any assumptions were made.
“Sex addict.”

 The room went quiet. Harry’s crying was the only sound audible at that moment. And it was such a sore moment. It was so obvious that he was hurting, but Louis didn’t respond much. It almost seemed like he was waiting. Harry felt pressured to say more, but it was so hard finding the words.  

”I… you… no one will understand what kind of hell I’m going through,” Harry started, and as he spoke, Louis was caressing his curls. It was unexpected, but Harry was too lost in the conversation to take much notice.
”Sometimes all I can think about is fucking you, Louis. I’ve gone mad.”

A slight smile was visible in the corner of Louis’ mouth, if only for a brief second as he heard Harry’s words filled with hurt and discomfort. Harry couldn’t understand why, he felt for a moment that Louis didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation.

”Don’t look at me like that. You don’t know what it’s like to want to throw up every time you’re done fucking some slut. You don’t know what it’s like to wank every hour of the day and still wake up twice during the night with the stiffies.” Harry was beginning to feel frustrated now, pulling back just a little bit. Louis did once again have a little curve of his mouth.

”This isn’t funny, Louis. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t control myself. I- I don’t know what to do anymore.” Harry had almost stopped crying, but he had to bite down on his puffy pink lower lip to stop it from quiver.

Louis’ arms were in no way muscular, but he still managed to pull Harry close once more.
“I think about your hard cock and getting fucked by it every time I see you. Which is a lot of time, Harry. Am I an addict too?”

So that’s why Louis was smiling…
“No, but-“
“No buts, Harry. Do you feel the same about the other boys?” Harry shook his head. Never in a million years would he ever think like that about any of the other in the band.

“When did you last wank, fuck or whatever? When did you last come?” This was such an awkward conversation. If Harry’s cheeks weren’t already pretty pink from the crying, he would probably blush, at least a little bit.
“I don’t know… when we… y’know.”

“Have you felt any urges since then?” Louis asked the most awkward questions of all time, but he did it in such a relaxed way that Harry didn’t feel too uncomfortable answering. Even though it was a little embarrassing.
“Maybe a little… Not really. I tried meeting up with a… friend. But I didn’t work.” In other words, he didn’t get an erection, but that was just too much information to not wrap in little codes.

“In other words, you haven’t had an orgasm for almost 8 hours. And you haven’t felt an immediate need for it,” Louis concluded, before his lips surprisingly brushed over Harry’s cheek, drying up a single tear.

“I think we might have found a cure for your addiction,” Louis whispered with a little smile now. Harry was not sure, but it almost seemed a little flirtatious.
“And we’ve established that I suffer from a few of the same symptoms as you, so this might just work out good for the both of us.”

Harry became a little confused. Not because he didn’t understand where Louis were going with this, but because it was so surreal that he just couldn’t really wrap his head around it.
“Are you saying-“ Louis pressed a finger against Harry’s soft lips before he nodded.
“I’m saying that you should shut up and kiss me.”

And Harry did.   
 

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