hazy lines (stylinson)

one

"oh please. he's a bulldozer," zayn persisted with a sigh, "he ruins people. i've never seen him display any sign of normal human emotion."

"geez i mean, i wouldn't go that far," louis brushed it off again as he smoked the butt of his cig. the two were walking down to the pub they would be meeting their friends at.

ironically, the man they spoke of would be there as well.

"since when do you defend him? i thought you fuckin' hate each other's guts. believe what you want i'm fully convinced he doesn't feel the full range of human emotions," zayn repeated, just as they reached the front door of the pub.

they lingered there, giving louis a chance to put out his smoke as their friend approached them.

"and how would you know, mate? do you talk about your feelings together?" louis teased, making zayn shove him playfully as he began to snicker.

"still talking about him?" michael wriggled his eyebrows as he joined his mates, opening the door for them.

"zayn's eulogizing him," louis nodded as they filed into the noisy pub.

"if only this were his funeral," zayn sighed with dramatic disappointment.

"he's really got your panties in a twist, z," louis commented, flicking zayn from the back of the head as they made their way to the table.

"so unsupportive! i thought i was preaching to the choir here, tommo," zayn replied with annoyance, rubbing the back of his head, "styles is an asshole."

"love you too, malik," a deep voice spoke from the booth towards the back, and louis turned around to see the man.

he looked quite nice, in a proper suit as he relaxed with some friends at the end of a long day. his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, as usual, not leaving much to the imagination. it looked like it was getting a bit tight around his tummy as he ate some fish and chips.

his hair was getting long, his soft fluffy curls infringing on his face a little. his stupid, annoying face.

zayn was right. he was awful, and every time louis first saw him, he was reminded of that. the guy couldn't even keep a proper posture, as his broad frame slumped over the table. pathetic.

he was trying to look intimidating, louis thought.

his emerald eyes locked in on louis, and didn't look away for a single moment.

"niall," zayn and mike greeted their other friend at the table, "how's the job hunt going?"

louis was vaguely aware the blonde was sitting beside harry, but he had sufficiently tuned out any conversation.

eye contact with harry was enough to drive him nuts. it was a challenge. who would look away first? obviously, louis wasn't going to stand down to a challenge. he was far too competitive for that, so he kept his eyes on harry's.

the man's emerald eyes had floated down to his lips, and elsewhere, before meeting his eyes again.

louis might've allowed his own eyes to drift as well, glancing down at the man's chest exposed through his unbuttoned shirt. at his stupid, stupid tattoos on his chest.

...the soft skin he had kissed before. his collar bone, his pecs with that absurd moth tattoo, his little belly poking through his tight shirt. his strong hands on the table–surely he was flexing and trying to look tough. then back to those forest green eyes again, still staring at him mischievously.

harry began eating again, quite quickly. meanwhile, louis just watched, as a whole giant plate of fish and chips was demolished by him.

louis couldn't help but look down at where he had packed it all away, as he finished his remaining beer, then nearly all of his second beer. his shirt was even tighter now around his middle, and harry even let a muted burp loose into his fist. he finally sat back after all of that, his lips shiny and eyes dark from his drink as he glanced at niall when he spoke. he panted a little, seeming quite full. his hand made its way to his rounded tummy, gently patting on top where he packed all that away.