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It is the dawn of the sixties and the whole sexual revolution may as well never happened since Harry still has to muffle his groans in the pillow when he fucks. God forbid neighbours would caught on. But maybe he wants to scream, maybe he wants his moans to carry through the wall and maybe he even likes to think that they would irk the person there somehow, but no. No such thing happens with Louis, because apparently he is the only person on the planet who doesn't care who you fuck. Being a fag in Greenwich Village is great, lots of fun, being a fag who is in love with his painfully straight best friend Louis? Torture. He should just let the whole thing go. Louis doesn't care for his moans, he produces a lot of them on his own, and those on the other hand haunt Harry's dream, and he's pretty sure that ten days on the road with Louis and Louis alone is actually going to kill him.
And he doesn't even like Beach Boys.
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Bookmark Notes:
possibly the best thing i have ever read. I am living for Niall asking zayn for weed. #gladlouisgothisshittogether
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Bookmark Notes:
my! heart! aches!!