You Made A Slow Disaster Out Of Me
All of a sudden it was like all the sound and heat got sucked out of the car and they were floating in midair, burning stars just orbiting each other, or comets crashing into the sun. It was cataclysmic, like the end of the earth was hurtling towards them, and Louis slumped forward with a deep moan, his breath puffing out over Harry’s forehead, as he came so hard tiny stars exploded behind his vision and the earth swirled underneath his hands. Like Harry was the center of everything and gravity was pulling him down.
Louis was the king of illegal street racing who rarely lost, Harry was the newcomer who beat him in the first race and nearly ran him over. Fuck Harry Styles. (No seriously, could they have sex, please???? - right after they stopped screaming at each other in the frozen food would be nice, but he wasn’t picky - the front seat of Banksy would work just fine.)