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Summary
“Okay, right. Aren’t you straight?” Harry was straight. Unless he somehow lied to the entire internet about how much he likes pussy, he was straight.
“A good time is a good time. A hole is a hole. What does it matter that I’m straight?”
Louis’ knee wobbled. Barely. Everything was fine.
“That doesn’t sound straight to me.”
Harry groaned and tossed his head back. He looked more comfortable in Louis’ office than he did, swiveling back and forth. “What does it matter that I want to have sex with you? You’re pretty, like a girl, and you moan like one, too. It’s your fault, not mine.”