The Brother I Never Wanted (Larry AU)

Chapter 29

Word of the week: Defenestration
A fancy way of saying throwing someone out a window

You're welcome. I've just expanded your vocabulary.

;)  - Sparks <3
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The colorful lights bounce off of his gray eyes, making them sparkle along with his straight teeth. His wavy hair is slicked back so it's barely noticeable, and it just doesn't seem as appealing as it once did at the coffee shop. But maybe that's because the glass in Louis' hand is making his vision blurry and his mind scatter. How he got roped into drinking again is beyond him at this point.

"So, tell me again why you brought your stepbrother along?"

Louis rolls his head. Heavy. It feels a bit heavier than normal. "Wha'd ya mean?" And, fuck. Is that even a question? It doesn't sound much like one.

His date sets his drink down on the table, creating a loud clank as it hits the wood. His stormy eyes roam over him and then to the chair Harry had been occupying mere moments ago before he decided he was going to sing karaoke with or without him – and obviously Louis had chosen without him.

"I mean, why is he here? I thought this was a date?"

"It is," Louis supplies quickly. "But it was his idea to come here, and he promised not to bother us. I think he's just going to float around."

"I don't see why he had to come at all."

Louis tilts his head. This emotion on Jake's face . . . he doesn't really know what to make of it. He thinks maybe he has an idea of what it is, but he's never really had experience with it. "Are you jealous?"

Jake rolls his eyes. "Oh, no. How could I possibly be jealous of a high school boy with a six-pack, dimples, and green eyes?"

Frowning, Louis shifts in his chair. "He's my stepbrother."

"Doesn't mean I don't worry sometimes."

"You worry too much."

The waiter comes back around, setting down another beer for each of them, and Louis takes big gulps. He feels stressed, for whatever reason. There's a bit of tension in the air. The people around him are dancing too close, occasionally bumping into his chair, and he's starting to get irritated. Maybe this wasn't the best place. No matter how much alcohol they hand out.

Louis scoots in his chair and scrapes his sagging bangs out of his face. They're a bit damp with perspiration. Then he takes another few gulps.

Awkward. That's all there is to describe it right now. Neither of them really talk, Jake on the rare occasion glancing at him as if waiting for him to say something, but Louis doesn't know what to do with himself. Eventually, the alcohol seeps in and does the talking for him.

"You're cute," he giggles.

Jake leans into him, his lips parting.

The music suddenly pauses, and the DJ pulls out a microphone announcing something to the mass of writhing bodies. Louis squints. He couldn't make out much in the way of words, but seeing as Harry is standing a bit off stage, bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously gives him a clue. He still doesn't understand why someone would willingly get onto a stage like that and sing. But he's got serious social anxiety, so maybe it's a bit different for someone as confident and easy-flowing as his stepbrother is.

"But he's cuter," he mutters, fingertips tracing the edge of his cup.

When Louis looks again, the seat next to his is empty. He sits up straighter – a bit like a prairie dog on its hind legs – to peer over the back of his chair and between the dancers. All he sees is the end of the bar and the edge of the stage. No bobbing head of copper hair. Maybe he went to the bathroom.