“Zayn. Zayn. Listen to me. I’m so—” Louis whines as he distractedly wipes down the counters in front of him, before Zayn stops him.
“Louis, if you say single, I swear to god, I’ll get Greg to fire you.” Zayn looks over at him from where he’s making a customer’s drink and doing something actually useful while Louis stands around and tries to look busy. He gives Louis an exasperated look as he finishes up and then gives him a pointed look when he goes to give the drink to its owner. They’ve been working at this coffee shop together for about six months, and while Louis is usually more helpful than he is today, he loves when Zayn is there to pick up the slack on the days like today where he’s either too restless or feeling too pathetic or hungover or whatever else to actually put forth any effort. He figures his company and general hilarious nature is enough of a compensation. Zayn never complains (much) anyway, so Louis figures it’s okay.
When Zayn turns back to him, Louis continues. “Actually, I was going to say bored, you presumptuous asshole.” He wasn’t, but Zayn doesn’t need to know that.
Zayn gives him a look that says that he doesn’t believe him, but Louis just ignores it and pointedly goes back to pretending to look busy. So maybe he’s been going through a dry spell ever since Aiden broke up with him two months ago. It’s not like he was in love with him or anything, but it was nice to have someone to cuddle up with and kiss whenever he wanted and fuck him into the mattress on a regular basis. He’s had a few hookups since, but he isn’t dating by any means, and he honestly doesn’t know why. This is the longest he’s gone without at least talking to someone in a romantic sense since he was about fifteen, and that is just. Unacceptable.
“Louis, honestly, we’ve just fucking started our shift. Are you going to be like this the entire time? Because if you are, I’m gonna call Greg and quit myself. I am not spending another six hour shift listening to you whine about how you’re not getting bummed enough.”
Louis scowls at him. “Shut the fuck up, you twat. I’m going through a very… delicate time in my life right now, and I don’t need my best mate being a judgmental dick.” He huffs as he straightens himself and carefully fixes his fringe.
Zayn gives him a rather impressive eye roll, before going into the back room to get some more cups or something. Louis is too distressed and sexually frustrated to care.
“Zayn,” Louis starts thoughtfully a few hours later, after doing some actual work just to appease Zayn and get him to stop giving Louis annoyed looks. No one can say he isn’t a good friend. “Do you think guys are intimidated by my fantastic arse?”
Zayn looks to be a mix between amused and completely exasperated. “I don’t know, Louis. Maybe,” Zayn indulges him. Zayn is a great friend.
“Okay, so. If we hadn’t been best friends for years and we met randomly in a club or summat, would you want to fuck me?”
Zayn actually seems to consider it. “Probably,” he says with a shrug. “Depends on what you’re wearing, I think. If you were wearing that one shirt — you know the one — with the tight jeans that show off your ass, then most likely, yeah. Makes you look a little slutty, but like, not in a bad way. Just like you’d be a really good lay. But as it is, I know you way too well to actually think of trying anything with you, mate. Sorry to break it to you like this.”
Louis rolls his eyes, but the smile spreading across his face ruins the effect. “I’m absolutely broken hearted, Zayner. I- I really thought we had something special.” He clutches his heart dramatically, while Zayn gives him a little shove.
“You’re an idiot,” he replies, and they both smile at each other as a customer comes in and then they’re turning their attention back to their work.
When Louis goes home that night, Niall is sitting in their living room with the gorgeous brunette girl he’s been seeing recently — Bambi or Barbara or Beatrice or something — and Louis pouts to himself. After he’s made pleasantries and is safely inside his own bedroom, he immediately shoots off a text to Zayn.
niall is fucking some brunette goddess and i haven’t had sex in over a month, something is seriously wrong about this
louis u do realize ur gay right? why r u jealous of niall fucking some girl lol
BECAUSE HE’S GETTING SOME AND I’M NOT, PAY ATTENTION ZAYN
oh my god post an ad on craigslist or get grindr or smth and get a good dicking so you can stfu about this
i resent that
i’m not THAT desperate
lol yes you are
Louis scowls and doesn’t respond. He’s not that desperate. Okay, so maybe he’d thought about it, but he really isn’t that desperate. Before he can reply, Zayn’s sending him another text.
there’s a party this weekend, i’ll take u and i’ll find u someone, ok? now shut up i’m trying to sext with liam
Louis is stuck between feeling thankful and bitter. Zayn is sexting, and he’s wallowing. And he hasn’t been touched by another human being in a month and he doesn’t even have anyone he could sext with if he wanted to. Whatever. He can be independent. He can be unattached. He can do this.
He can’t do this.
Louis might be dramatic, but honestly, it’s like everywhere he goes there’s some happy couple giggling at each other and kissing and holding hands. He’s convinced that the universe is taunting him. And when the fuck did coffee shops become such a popular place for couples on dates, anyways? Louis is working half of his shift with Perrie today, and while she’s much more sympathetic to Louis’ situation than Zayn, and actually lets him whine a bit before doing her best to distract him via jokes and banter, the little looks she gives him every time a couple comes into the shop that she thinks Louis doesn’t notice are making him feel a little pathetic. He isn’t going to burst into tears or something, jesus. He’s just a little lonely and sexually frustrated, it’s no big deal. He can handle it.
It’s only just before Zayn is about to come in to take over for Perrie for the last half of Louis’ shift that Louis snaps. He’s at the counter shamelessly flirting with a cute guy that had come in for some tea — not Yorkshire, but Louis can overlook that (and eventually convert him, of course) — and so far everything seems to be looking good. The guy is flirting back with just as much gusto, even winking at him once, but just as Louis is about to ask for his number, some other guy comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist. Cute Guy freezes for a second, but turns around quickly and, to Louis’ complete shock and horror, seems happily surprised and throws his arms around the other guy before kissing him on the lips. Cute Guy has a fucking boyfriend.
But it’s not until Louis can get a good look at the other guy that he gets hit with the real shocker, because Cute Guy’s boyfriend is Aiden. Aiden, his own ex-boyfriend, is dating the cute guy that was just shamelessly flirting with him. When did Louis’ life turn into a fucking soap opera? Honestly, what the actual fuck.
Louis looks at Perrie with wide eyes, and she is looking just as flabbergasted as he feels as she quietly hands him Cute Guy’s tea. Louis closes his eyes and takes a second to collect himself, before turning back to the seemingly happy couple. He clears his throat to get their attention, and they both turn to him just as Louis sets the drink on the counter and slides it towards them. “Your drink.”
Aiden looks like a deer in headlights for a second, obviously not having noticed him before, and clears his own throat as Cute Guy gives him a sheepish smile as he grabs the drink. “Right, thanks.”
“Uh, hey, Louis—” Aiden starts before Louis cuts him off.
“Thanks for your business, have a nice day!” he says brightly, giving them the most cheerful fake smile he can muster, before turning around and disregarding them completely as he walks to the back room without so much as a look back. Perrie can take over the counter for a few minutes while he quietly has an existential crisis. She understands, surely.
Zayn comes in a few minutes later, approaching him like he would a wild animal which means Perrie’s obviously told him what happened. “Hey, Lou. Y’alright?”
“Am I dreaming, Zayn? I think I'm dreaming. Either that, or this is some kind of cosmic joke, because honestly, what the fuck.” Louis shifts his gaze from blankly staring at a spot on the wall to facing Zayn, looking at him with probably the most puzzled expression that’s ever graced his features. The only comfort he’s able to take from the situation is the fact that Aiden’s boyfriend is probably either a shameless flirt or a cheater, which still doesn’t change the fact that Aiden’s moved on.
And it’s not even that he’s jealous, or that he even particularly cares that Aiden’s moved on, really, but Aiden has someone and Louis doesn’t, and that’s just. Not fair. At all. It seems that everyone has someone but Louis, and really, what did he do to deserve this? Is it really too much to ask for someone to regularly trade orgasms with?
“Do you wanna go out tonight after work? We can go to the pub and get pissed? I’ll text Niall, it’ll just be the lads. I won’t even invite Liam, if you don’t want,” Zayn offers, coming closer to wrap an arm around Louis’ shoulders in a comforting gesture.
Louis sighs. “Can’t. I have some stupid drama workshop tonight,” he says bitterly, because he’s really not looking forward to anything school-related right now. School is probably the only thing going relatively well for him at the moment, but that’s mostly because, other than his friends and work, school work is the only thing that takes up a good chunk of his time that distracts him from the fact that he’s not getting laid. It’s just that he’s never exactly been very studious, and spending so much time focusing on school is seriously harshing his vibes. It’s great that he’s getting good marks, but he knows he’d still be able to get decent marks even if he spent half the time he does now. He knows, because that's how he got by nearly all of sixth form, not to mention his entire (very limited) uni career up until this point.
“Maybe tomorrow, then,” Zayn says, and Louis just shrugs in response. They’re silent for a moment before Zayn gets a speculative look on his face, and then his face is lighting up a bit and he claps Louis on the shoulder. “Well, better get back to work then, yeah? I think Perrie mentioned something about the specials board, so. I’m gonna go fix that.” He motions towards the door and pauses for a moment, before adding, “You’ll be alright, mate. See you out there.”
Louis gives him a strange look and watches him leave the room. Today has got to be the weirdest day of his life.
Today is definitely the weirdest day of his life.
Perrie left just as Louis was coming out of the back room, leaving Zayn and Louis by themselves, and Louis honestly just wanted to go home and curl up with some tea and listen to Adele on repeat. Maybe he could get a cat or something. For, like, companionship or whatever.
But as it is, he has a job to do, and as he gets back to work, he’s relieved to see that Aiden and Cute Guy aren’t there anymore. In all honesty, they’d probably left not long after Louis had gone into the back, but whatever. He’s just glad they’re gone.
Things are pretty normal after Zayn finishes messing with the specials board — he doesn’t bother looking at what Zayn did to it, figuring he just added some of his usual artistic flare, since he’s often asked to redo the board to make it look nicer or more modern and artistic or whatever the fuck — and Zayn even lets Louis pretend to be busy at the counter between customers while Zayn actually does the more consequential work.
Things don’t start getting weird until about an hour later, after he’s been heavily flirted with by two different guys, who had both given him knowing looks and winks, and slipped him their numbers. Neither guy was particularly eye-catching, but the fact that it had happened twice in such a short amount of time was enough to make Louis really wonder about his life. Is he on some sort of secret camera show? Is his life like some fucked up version of The Truman Show?
He’s really starting to wonder after he gets yet another odd encounter (this guy being a little more creepy) and he’s received yet another number. Zayn is looking oddly proud of himself where he’s now out clearing tables, occasionally looking over at Louis with a too-bright smile, and Louis is just about to go ask him if he’s on some fucked up secret camera show, when a very beautiful guy comes up to the counter.
Louis looks at the beautiful stranger with wide eyes for a second, because holy shit. The boy has deep green eyes, full pink lips, and curly brown hair that’s held back by what appears to be a scarf. He’s wearing what looks like fucking black jeggings, and a button down with the sleeves rolled up that’s only half buttoned up. He watches Beautiful Stranger stare at the specials board on the stand in front of the serving counter for a long time, his eyes still trained on him when he looks back and forth between the board and Louis, biting his lip like he’s trying to solve a particularly puzzling question. Honestly, Louis has never been more confused or aroused. It's only made worse when Beautiful Stranger speaks, and Louis finds that he has one of the deepest, slowest, sexiest voices he’s ever heard. Fuck.
“Um. Hi. Um,” Beautiful Stranger pauses, and is he honestly blushing? God, Louis thinks he is definitely dreaming right now, because there is no way this kid is real. Beautiful Stranger seems to take a moment to collect himself before giving Louis a smile, and holy shit, Beautiful Stranger has dimples. He’s definitely dreaming. Louis smiles back, a genuine smile, as Beautiful Stranger finally continues, “Is there anything you’d recommend?”
Louis quirks an eyebrow, because honestly, after looking at the specials board for so long, you’d think he’d have an idea as to what he wants. Still, he thinks this might be an open invitation to flirt, and there’s no way Louis is passing that up, even despite the day’s previous weird exchanges.
“Depends.” Louis leans forward, tilting his head a bit as he gives him a little smirk. “Do you like it hot... or cold?”
Beautiful Stranger seems to be biting back a smirk of his own, biting his lip as he assesses Louis a moment before responding. “Hot.”
Louis licks his lips, giving his signature eyelash flutter as he pretends to consider his answer. When he speaks, his voice is low and sultry, like he’s telling a particularly dirty secret only meant for the two of them. “Tea’s always good. Yorkshire’s my personal favorite, but we also have hot chocolate. Latte. Mocha. Coffee. I can give you whatever you want.” By the time he’s finished speaking, their eyes are connected and Beautiful Stranger keeps biting or licking at his lips, seemingly stunned into momentary silence. Louis is silently pleased with himself.
“I’ll, uh. Tea, yeah. Yorkshire’s good.” Beautiful Stranger gives him a smile, and when Louis gives him a smile back, his smile seems to grow even brighter, dimples on full display. Jesus, those dimples.
“Coming right up,” Louis replies with a wink, before setting about to make Beautiful Stranger’s tea. Zayn seems to still be cleaning tables or something, but Louis isn’t bothered with making the tea since he now has his back to Beautiful Stranger, which allows him the perfect view of Louis’ bum. Just before the tea is ready, he turns his head around to check on the boy, and finds Beautiful Stranger’s eyes glued to his arse, which causes a smirk to spread across Louis’ face.
When the tea is prepared, he takes his place back at the counter and finds Beautiful Stranger straightening from where he was just hunched over the counter, writing on what looks to be a napkin. He has the napkin clutched in his hand as he pays, and the tension in the air is obvious as Louis hands him the tea, and then they’re stood looking at each other.
Louis raises an eyebrow, and Beautiful Stranger clears his throat at the same time as Louis says, “So.”
“Right, so um. I don’t usually do this, but you should give me a call. You know, if you want.” Beautiful Stranger slides him the napkin then, and Louis gives him a bright smile and nods, feeling happy and a little smug when he sees the number scrawled at the bottom, but he’s a little confused at the rest of the writing.
1. Also hella gay.
2. Also single.
Louis looks back up at him, but Beautiful Stranger — Harry, apparently — just gives him a cheeky smile and wave before he makes his way out of the shop.
Louis realizes as he looks back down at the napkin that this is the fourth number he’s gotten today, though he knows this guy is the one he’s most likely to actually give a call. He smiles to himself at the prospect of seeing Harry again, because despite the weird things he’d written, that actually rates very low on the scale of weird things he’s experienced today. Not to mention the fact that Harry is very, very gorgeous, and very much Louis’ type. Which as of late is: hot, interested, and not an asshole.
Louis is still smiling to himself when Zayn comes up, a smug grin on his face, and Louis narrows his eyes suspiciously at him.
“That guy give you his number, then?”
Zayn’s smug grin widens. “No reason,” he sing-songs, and okay, Louis is definitely suspicious now, but he ignores it in favor of sticking to his post-'getting Harry’s number' happiness as he goes back to work.
Things don’t click until twenty minutes later, when he goes to mop up a spill in front of the serving counter, and he notices the specials board still propped up on its stand off to the side.
TODAY YOUR BARISTA IS:
1. Hella fucking gay.
2. Desperately single.
FOR YOUR DRINK TODAY I RECOMMEND:
You give me your number.
There’s even a little stick figure off to the left side next to the ‘gay and single’ part — and honestly, it doesn’t even look like Louis, and he’s mildly offended at how half-assed it is, considering Zayn’s a fucking art major, but whatever — and Louis can’t stop staring at the whole thing. Fuck.
No wonder people kept either hitting on him, or giving him weird or pitying looks. They thought he was desperate and single, and okay, maybe it’s a little true, but he doesn’t need people to know that. Especially when it hits him that Harry — gorgeous, dimply, beautiful Harry — thinks he’s a fucking pathetic, desperate loser. He probably only gave him his number out of pity. Fuck. He’s going to kill Zayn.
“I’m going to kill you,” he seethes to Zayn once he’s finished mopping the spill and he has a chance to corner him behind the counter. Zayn just smirks at him.
“Hey, you’re the one always complaining about how single you are. Now you have like, what, three guys’ numbers? You’re welcome.”
Louis hits him on the arm. It's four, actually, but. That's not the point, so he doesn't bother correcting him.
“Ow! What the fuck was that for, you twat? You got that curly lad’s number, didn’t you? You should be thanking me.”
Louis rolls his eyes and huffs. “Right, like I’m gonna call him now. He thinks I’m pathetic and desperate!”
“You are desperate.”
Louis shoots him an icy glare. “Fuck off.”
Zayn’s the one to roll his eyes this time. “Honestly, Lou, don’t be stupid. From what I saw, he’s hot, and he seemed into you. Just call him, see what happens.”
Louis just hits him again and pointedly doesn’t talk to him the rest of their shift.
Louis doesn’t call Harry. He considers texting him, but he’s honestly just too embarrassed. He’s even more embarrassed at the fact that he imagines Harry fucking him in various positions when he wanks that night, which only solidifies the fact that he’s definitely not calling Harry.
He doesn’t work the next day, thankfully, and busies himself with errands and school work and that night, he and Niall go out to the pub and get delightfully pissed. He doesn’t find anyone to fuck, or even chat up, but he still has a good time, so he considers it a step in the right direction.
He doesn’t talk to Zayn until the day after when he walks into work after a long morning of classes and he’s honestly too tired to put forth the effort it takes to ignore him. They slip into their usual routine of working and joking and taking the piss out of each other, and everything is normal until Louis sees a semi-familiar head of curls out of the corner of his eye just as its owner is making his way into the shop. Louis’ eyes widen and in his state of panic, he drops to the floor behind the counter so he can’t be seen. “Shit, fuck, shit, Zayn, what do I do?”
“Lou, I hate to break it to you, but I’m kind of seeing someone. And like I told you before, I’m not interested in swapping ‘platonic blowjobs’.”
Louis glares at him. Fucking air quotes, really? “That was one time! Not to mention I was very drunk. And you promised never to speak of it again, you twat,” Louis whisper-shouts at him, getting sidetracked before he remembers why he’s down on the floor in the first place. “Harry, the hot curly-haired guy from the other day, is here. And I never called him. And he thinks I’m desperate, so like. Pretend I’m not here!”
Zayn just shakes his head and tries to contain his eye roll, unsuccessfully, before turning and greeting Harry, who Louis thinks must’ve just walked up.
Zayn and Harry have a cordial interaction — Harry ordering Yorkshire again, which Louis tries his hardest not to swoon over — and Louis wishes he could see Harry’s face as Zayn busies himself with making the tea. Louis feels a little pathetic sitting on the floor behind the counter, but he convinces himself that this is better than an awkward interaction where he has to explain why he hasn’t called, or worse, if Harry is somehow disappointed to see him and regrets giving Louis his number or something. Yeah, this is definitely the right thing, Louis thinks.
That is, until Harry’s paid and has his drink in hand, and Louis hears him ask after him. “Um, sorry, but. Do you know the other guy who works here? He has like, brown hair and blue eyes—”
“And a fantastic arse?” Zayn interrupts, and Louis flicks at his leg at that.
Zayn kicks back at him, but Louis ignores it when he hears Harry’s voice again. “Um, yeah, that’s him.” Louis can practically hear Harry’s blush, and he’s so cute, honestly. Louis is seriously wondering what he was thinking not calling him.
“Yeah, that’s Louis. He’s not working today.” Zayn’s smirking now, and Louis wants to hit him again.
“Oh, right, yeah.” Louis can hear the disappointment in his voice, and fuck. His voice. Why didn’t Louis call him again? “I gave him my number but uh, he hasn’t called, and there’s this party thing this weekend and I was gonna ask him to go but, um. Yeah, anyway. I should probably go. Thanks anyways, mate. Cheers.”
Louis closes his eyes shut tightly as he hears Harry’s footsteps retreating, and when he opens them, Zayn is looking down at him with an exasperated expression that screams ‘I told you so’. Louis just glares at him.
“Shut up. Not a word.”
The next day is Friday, and as Louis works his shift with Perrie, he’s at war with himself about whether or not he should text Harry. He tells Perrie all about his situation, and while she’s amused at the whole specials board thing, she actually listens attentively and gives him advice (“Call him, Louis! Or text him. Honestly, he obviously wants to talk to you, you dickhead. Just do it!”). Not that it’s much different from Zayn’s advice (or Niall’s, for that matter), but after the second (technically third) opinion, he decides maybe he should actually listen.
He vows to himself that he’ll text Harry after his shift is over, and he spends the rest of it half-wishing Harry would come back in, and half-terrified that he actually would. In the end, he doesn’t, and Louis is both saddened and relieved at that.
When he gets home, however, he doesn’t have time to text Harry, seeing as he finds a distressed Aiden on his doorstep.
Aiden is teary-eyed as he explains that he found out his boyfriend was cheating on him (Louis totally called it), and that he misses Louis and he was stupid to ever break up with him in the first place. Louis awkwardly hugs him and tries to console him, but in the end he’s as polite as he can be when he tells him that he’s not interested in getting back together, and eventually sends him on his way. Aiden was nice enough when they were together, but Louis’ not exactly interested in being a rebound, especially since Aiden is the one that broke things off in the first place. Besides, while Louis is extremely sexually frustrated, he’s not entirely desperate, and he can honestly say he’s over the whole situation.
After that, he’s too distracted to remember to text Harry when Perrie offers to take him out after he tells her about the whole Aiden situation. They go out and meet Niall and Barbara at some club, and the four of them dance and drink and laugh, and he gets blissfully lost in the moment in a way that he hasn’t in a while. He still doesn’t get laid, but his aim was to get shitfaced, not to pull, so he’s not all that bothered.
Louis almost forgets about the party Zayn invited him to until he texts him the next day to remind him, and Louis curses as he nurses his hangover as a result of the night before.
Thankfully, he had the day off to recover, so by the time Zayn comes over later that night, Louis is feeling significantly better and ultimately ready to get drunk again. And hopefully laid. He’d much rather get laid, if he’s honest, but he figures he’ll take what he can get.
As he’s getting ready, he remembers that he forgot to text Harry the night before, and he contemplates texting him and asking him to come out with him, but then he remembers it’s a Saturday night and Harry probably already has plans. He’ll text him tomorrow for sure, he tells himself.
Apparently, the party is at Liam’s place. Which means that, despite Zayn’s earlier promises to wingman for Louis tonight, he’ll most likely end up third wheeling to Zayn and Liam while they half-assedly introduce him to all of their single friends. And while Louis loves Zayn for wanting to help, he’s definitely not down to be anyone’s third wheel right now. Especially to a couple like Zayn and Liam, who have only just started dating, so they’re still in that ‘smitten as hell and always wanting to fuck like rabbits and publicly display their affection all over the place’ stage. Yeah, no. Louis would rather stab himself in the eye with a fork than willingly subject himself to that for the majority of the night.
So after they’ve been there for all of ten minutes, Louis politely and as casually as possible extracts himself from them and ventures off on his own, which somehow leads him to the kitchen, where there's countless bottles of alcohol strewn out all over the counters. Louis mixes himself a very strong drink, and busies himself with talking to a few vaguely familiar faces. They’re mostly people he currently or previously has had classes with, or has met a few times through mutual friends, and while they don’t exactly provide the most stimulating conversation, he likes having the company and distraction. He moves from group to group, making conversation and getting progressively more intoxicated as the night goes on, and before he knows it, hours have passed and he’s somehow found himself in the middle of a crowd of bodies with his hands in the air as his hips sway along to the music.
His mind is hazy as he moves, letting his body move naturally along with the beat in a hypnotic rhythm. He’s never been shy about dancing, and knows exactly how to move his body and shake his hips, knows the effect it can have on people, so he isn’t at all surprised when he feels someone come up behind him and try to press their bodies together to dance. Louis turns around to get a look at the guy, and he doesn’t recognize him at all, but Louis supposes he’s decent looking enough and doesn’t seem like a weirdo, so he lets the guy dance with him.
After a few minutes, the guy is too close and he’s getting a bit too handsy with him, trying to grab his arse and lean in for a kiss, and Louis just isn’t feeling it with this guy. Sure, he wants to get laid, but his arse isn’t just a free for all open for just anyone; not to mention the fact that he’s really feeling the effects of the alcohol he’s consumed now, and yeah, he definitely needs to get away from this guy.
He pushes the guy away and tells him to fuck off as politely as he can in his current state, before making his way towards the less crowded part of the flat, and he suddenly realizes how hot and stuffy it had been in the crowd, and he finds he can breathe much easier here. He spots Zayn and Liam — or two people that look an awful lot like Zayn and Liam, at least; he thinks he might be a bit too drunk to tell — off in a corner kissing rather passionately, and he makes a face at them.
Before he can even register what’s happening, he’s bumping into someone — a much larger someone — and he can feel himself being steadied by strong arms before he’s able to topple over. He looks up at the person’s face, and before he’s able to slur out any apologies, his eyes widen because shit, the person who almost knocked him over is Harry. Or at least, is probably Harry. Everything’s rather blurry at the moment, and it could be some kind of drunken mirage or hallucination or something (is there even such a thing? Louis wonders), so it could just be his imagination. He’s pretty sure it’s Harry, though. Probably.
“Harry?” he finally gets out after a few seconds of them both staring at each other in astonishment.
“Louis? It’s Louis, right?” God, Harry’s voice is even sexier than Louis remembers.
“Yes! I’m Louis. And you’re here. And also Harry.” Louis keeps his hands gripped onto Harry’s shoulders as he leans in, and they have to practically shout at each other to be heard.
“Yeah, I’m here. And Harry. And you never called.” Harry’s smiling despite calling Louis out on not calling him, so Louis thinks that might be a good sign. God, he’s drunk. He does remember one thing, though, and that’s the fact that Harry thinks he’s desperate, and that is just unacceptable.
“Sorry, I'm sorry! M'not desperately single! I’m really not, Harry. I promise.”
Harry furrows his brows at him, his smile fading, and why is he not smiling anymore? Did he like thinking that Louis was desperate? Louis doesn’t understand.
“Oh. Um. So you’re with someone, then? I saw you dancing with that guy earlier, is that…?” Harry trails off, biting his lip and looking disappointed. Louis’ eyes widen and he furiously shakes his head, which. Probably not a good idea when he’s this drunk, because now he’s feeling a little dizzy.
“No! No, I’m single, I’m just not desperate. I don’t want you to think I’m desperate, because I’m not!”
Harry’s brows furrow even further. “So… you didn’t call me because you’re not desperate? Um.” Harry shakes his head and starts moving away from Louis then, and what. Why is he letting go and moving away? “I guess I’ll just go then.”
Louis grabs onto Harry and tries to pull him closer as best he can, but all he ends up doing is stumbling into him and giggling into his chest. “Where are you going? I don’t want you to go. You’re so pretty, please don’t go. I’m not desperate,” Louis pouts, looking up at him, and he smiles when he sees a small smile spreading across Harry’s face.
“C’mon, you’re really drunk. Let’s get you somewhere to lie down,” Harry says as he begins to move them towards a hallway at the back of the flat.
“Mmm, yes, please lie me down, Harry,” Louis says into Harry’s ear as he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and starts biting at Harry’s earlobe. He feels Harry shiver at that, but he pushes him away a bit so it’s easier for them to walk, and Louis pouts.
They continue walking until they get to one of the doors at the end of the hallway, and Harry digs a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, before shuffling them inside and locking the door again. It’s a lot quieter inside the room, but they can still hear the music thumping through the flat clearly. It’s also mostly dark aside from a lamp just beside a large bed situated in the middle of the room, and Louis can vaguely see that there’s pictures all over the walls.
After Louis’ taken a quick look at the room, he suddenly remembers that he’s alone with Harry, so he turns around and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck again, before closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Harry’s. Harry makes a noise that’s somewhere between surprised, pleased, and disapproving against his lips, but he tentatively wraps his arms around Louis’ waist as he kisses him back. Their kiss is sadly short-lived, and when Harry pulls back, he looks down at Louis with furrowed brows.
“You’re really drunk, Louis.”
“I know,” Louis says delightedly, before moving back in for a kiss.
Harry pulls away before Louis can re-attach their lips, and Louis pouts again.
“What?” he huffs, still pouting.
“You’re too drunk. Let’s just get you on the bed, okay?”
Louis brightens at this. “Bed, right! Of course.” He moves towards the bed as he starts to pull his shirt off, but Harry stops him again.
“What are you doing?”
Louis looks at him with a raised brow. “Undressing? You’d do well to do the same.”
Harry looks a mix between exasperated and fond. “Louis, we’re not having sex.”
Louis furrows his brows in confusion. “And why the hell not?”
“Because you’re drunk, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Louis smirks at him and moves closer, his hands trailing over Harry’s chest. “But I want you to take advantage of me. C’mon, Harry, don’t you want me?”
Harry bites his lip, and seems to almost consider it for a second before he’s pulling Louis’ hands off of him and holding them in his own instead. “I do want you, but just... not tonight, okay?”
Louis groans and makes to pull his hands away from Harry, but when he does, he somehow ends up toppling back onto the bed, which causes him to giggle. Harry laughs as well, and then he’s pulling off Louis’ shoes before pulling the duvet back and settling Louis in under the covers and sitting next to him. “Is this okay?”
Louis just hums and settles back into the bed, which is like, probably the most comfortable bed he’s ever been in. He tells Harry as much, which causes Harry to laugh, and Louis is surprised at how his eyelids begin to droop. He feels so close to sleep already, but when he feels Harry trying to get up, he grumbles his protest and pulls Harry down as best he can until Harry’s awkwardly sprawled half on top of him. Harry laughs again, and seems to relent as he kicks off his own shoes and lifts up the duvet so he can crawl under as well. Louis immediately burrows into his chest, and it feels like only seconds before he’s drifting off into a comfortable sleep.
When Louis wakes up, his head is killing him and he is very obviously in a bed that isn’t his. Laying next to someone. Which is definitely not a normal occurrence. What the fuck?
He’s fully clothed, so he knows he probably didn’t have sex last night, but why is he in an unfamiliar bed? When he finally gets his eyes opened fully and is able to turn around to get a good look at the body lying next to him, he instantly recognizes the curly hair and the nose and the jaw and those lips (he thinks he’d be able to spot those lips anywhere, probably), and he freezes. Why is he lying next to Harry? He’s already established that he didn’t have sex last night (which is as disappointing as it is relieving), so why is he lying in an unfamiliar bed with Harry, of all people? More importantly, why is he spooning with Harry, of all people?
He lets himself relax back into the bed as he closes his eyes and lets his mind attempt to go back through the events of the night before. He’s only able to remember bits and pieces, but he does remember a kiss happening somewhere in the midst of everything, even if it’s a very hazy recollection.
Before he can try to remember anything else, he feels Harry shifting behind him, and he takes a deep breath before slowly turning around to look at him. Harry looks over at him blearily, before giving him a soft smile, and Louis can’t help but smile back. “Hey,” Harry rasps, and fuck, his voice is even deeper in the morning. Jesus.
“Hey,” Louis replies, his lips spreading a bit wider until he’s almost grinning. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Harry laughs, and Louis finds that he loves the sound. “Yeah, in my bed. Imagine that.”
“Oh, this is your bed? Thank god. I thought maybe we’d kipped in a strangers bed. Imagine how awkward that would’ve been.”
Harry’s grinning now as well, and Louis is just glad it isn’t awkward.
They both get up out of bed, and Louis checks his phone, only to realize it’s dead. He shrugs to himself as he slides it back into his pocket, before looking over at Harry. “Do you have a spare toothbrush, by any chance? And some paracetamol?”
“Um, I think so, yeah. Follow me.”
Louis follows him into the bathroom, and they exchange glances as they brush their teeth together, and then Harry’s giving Louis some paracetamol.
“Do you smell that?” Louis asks once he’s swallowed it, and they’re just looking at each other. He smells food, bacon to be exact, but it could be wishful thinking on his part since his stomach is now rumbling, but it’s also rolling a bit uncomfortably, so he’s not sure whether the prospect of eating is a good or bad thing just yet.
“I think so. S’probably just Liam.”
Louis’ eyebrows shoot up at that. “You know Liam?”
“Well, yeah... He’s my flatmate.” Oh. That would explain the whole 'sleeping in Harry's bed' thing, then. Since they're still in Liam's flat, apparently.
Louis’ eyes widen. “Really? He’s my best mate’s boyfriend.”
“Zayn’s your mate? That’s his name, right? Zayn? I haven’t met him yet, but I’ve heard a lot about him. When he’s over they’re usually in Liam’s room, or I’m in mine, or I’m out. Most of the time, Liam goes out with him anyway, though, so, y’know.” He shrugs, as if any of it really mattered, because oh my god, Liam and Harry are flatmates. They share a flat. They live together. Harry. And Liam. Zayn’s boyfriend. And Harry. Living together.
Louis is actually living in a soap opera. He’s about to start looking for the hidden cameras when they finally reach the kitchen and see Liam standing in front of the stove, with Zayn holding him from behind. It’s so domestic and adorable that Louis feels like he’s going to throw up.
Harry clears his throat, and Zayn and Liam both whip around at the noise, and Zayn’s eyes widen when he sees them. “Oi! Harry, right? From the coffee shop?” Recognition seems to dawn on him, as something clicks behind his eyes. “Oh. And I guess you must be Harry, Liam’s flatmate as well, then?”
“That’d be me,” Harry replies, giving him a warm smile.
Zayn looks from Louis to Harry a few times, an amused smile growing on his face, but he doesn’t comment. He doesn’t need to, anyway. Louis knows he’s practically swimming in mirth, the fucking asshole.
“Right, well, now that we’ve all been acquainted, I smell food? What’re we having?” Louis cuts in, shooting Zayn a look before shifting his gaze between the three of them.
“Oh, right, I was just making some bacon and eggs. Y’want some? There’s enough for all of us, I think,” Liam explains, gesturing towards the stove.
They all agree, and when the food is ready, they all sit down at the table and eat in relative silence. It’s not entirely awkward, but it’s comfortable either, the unanswered questions lingering in the air around them and making the air thick with tension.
Liam is the one who finally breaks the silence. He clears his throat, before starting, “So. Louis, how do you and Harry know each other?”
Louis and Harry look at each other, and Louis feels his cheeks heating up, before he shoots a glare at Zayn. “Um. We met at the shop. Harry came in one day while I was working, and y’know.”
A flicker of recognition flashes across Liam's face then. “Oh. Oh. So this is…” he trails off as he glances at Harry. “Right. Well then. Small world, innit.”
Louis just hums in response, chancing a glance at Harry, who seems quite content staring intently down at his food, and not at Louis. He looks over at Zayn then, and he looks about ready to burst at the seams. Louis purses his lips, before kicking him under the table. Zayn shoots him a glare at that, and he ignores it in favor of finishing off a piece of bacon.
They all try to make small talk over breakfast, mostly initiated by Liam, and the tension seems to lessen as the conversation flows, but there’s still a bit of thickness in the air that just won’t seem to go away.
When breakfast is done and Zayn and Liam finally retreat back into Liam’s room, Louis glances at the clock on the wall to see that it’s nearly half 2. Not quite breakfast, then.
When he looks over at Harry, Harry’s looking back at him with furrowed brows and a curious, but puzzled expression on his face. Louis gives him a confused smile. “What?”
“I just… I don’t understand you.”
Well, Louis definitely wasn’t expecting that. “O...kay? How so?”
“Do you remember much about last night?” Harry asks, and Louis freezes. His tone is a bit foreboding, and Louis suddenly feels uneasy.
“Um. A bit?” He poses it as a question, because he’s not actually sure what Harry’s getting at.
“You were really drunk—” Harry starts, before Louis is cutting him off.
“Well, yeah, I remember that part,” he cuts in, giving him a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Harry gives him a smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Louis’ smile dims just a bit.
“Right, so um. I don’t know if you remember but, you kissed me. And nothing else happened, but you should know that much.” He isn’t looking directly at Louis anymore, and something about that makes Louis seem even more apprehensive.
“I remember that part. Kind of. Bits and pieces,” he admits, biting at his lip as he steadily gets more anxious.
Harry still won’t look him in the eye as he nods, and then continues, “Right, well. Okay, so like, I understand that you only did it because you were drunk, like. It’s not a big deal. I get it.”
Louis looks at him as if he’s sprouted another head. “What’re you on about?”
Harry looks at him then, his brows furrowed and a pleading look in his eyes, like he really doesn’t want to go on. “You told me you weren’t desperate enough to call me, so like, I get it—” he starts, before Louis is putting up a hand and cutting him off.
“Wait, I said what?! No, no, no. There’s no way I would’ve said that, no matter how drunk I was. I never would’ve said that.” Louis looks at him incredulously, shaking his head.
Harry just shrugs, and he looks so defeated and dejected that Louis kind of really just wants to hug him.
“Harry—” Louis starts, his voice soft and a bit pleading, but Harry is the one who cuts him off this time.
“I just really don’t understand, because like, you were flirting with me at the shop, right, like I wasn’t just imagining it? But then you never called, and then I saw you dancing with that guy, and then you said you were single, but you never called because you weren’t desperate enough, and I just... don’t understand. You seem like a really nice guy, Louis, and you’re really beautiful, and cheeky, and funny, and I like you, but like. I don’t get what you're playing at.” He shrugs, finally looking up at Louis once he’s finished speaking, and Louis’ eyes are wide, because fuck. He really fucked this up, didn’t he?
“Harry, oh my god. Fuck. Listen, I’m sorry I never called, but like, I was nervous, okay? And like, I didn’t actually put up that sign— Zayn did that, and I had no idea he’d done it when you came in, and I was going to text you that night, but then I saw the sign and I thought you’d only given me your number out of pity because you thought I was some desperate single loser, and you know, I was the one who was really forward with you in the first place, and I just. I didn’t want you to think I was desperate. And what I said last night must’ve come across wrong, because I definitely didn’t mean that I wasn’t desperate enough to call you, I meant that I didn’t want you to think I was just flirting with you because I was desperate to be with someone. I’m single, and maybe a little lonely, but I’m not desperate, right?” He pauses for a second, before tacking on, “And for the record, I like you, too. And I didn’t just kiss you because I was drunk. Well, I mean kind of— the alcohol gave me the courage and that, but I didn’t just kiss you because I was drunk.”
Harry smiles at him then, his dimple popping and everything, and Louis smiles back at him.
“So, you really do like me, then?”
Louis’ smile widens. “Yeah.”
“Does that mean you’ll actually text me after this, then? I mean, it would be bad etiquette not to after kissing someone, sleeping with them, and then telling them you like them, right?” Harry asks then, flashing Louis a cheeky smile.
Louis rolls his eyes fondly, before heaving a sigh. “I mean, I guess I could try to find it within myself to send you a text. I might need some motivation, though.” He raises a brow at Harry, a smirk forming on his lips.
Louis rests an elbow on the table and leans forward, towards Harry, who thankfully isn’t very far away to begin with, and Harry looks at him from underneath his lashes as his grin widens and he’s smirking back at him. “Oh, yeah? Motivation, huh?”
Louis nods and licks his lips, as Harry leans closer to him as well, and he’s suddenly extremely glad that they sat next to each other. Harry just gives a little hum as his eyes flicker down to Louis’ lips, and Louis holds his breath when Harry begins closing the rest of the distance between them.
When their lips finally meet — sober, this time — the first thing Louis notices is how soft and full Harry’s lips are. They look amazing, sure, but they feel even better, and Louis really wants them all over his body. He brings a hand up to snake around Harry’s neck and threads his fingers through the hair at his nape, and uses his grip to push them closer together.
Harry sighs into the kiss, and Louis nibbles on his bottom lip a bit before going back in and kissing him harder. Harry gives just as much as he gets, and he lets Louis set the pace of the kiss, and while it's not perfect, it's pretty fucking close.
Louis can't help himself when he climbs into Harry's lap to get a better angle, his arse resting on Harry's thighs with a leg on either side of him. Harry's hands immediately move to rest on his hips, and Louis lets his tongue dart out of his mouth to run along Harry's lower lip. Harry immediately opens up for him, and Louis wastes no time before he's licking into Harry's mouth, their tongues touching and caressing in a dance that has Louis moving closer and grinding against Harry slowly.
After another minute or so of slow, leisurely snogging and grinding, Harry finally pulls away, both of them breathing heavily, and Harry looks a bit dazed as he looks at him. "So does this mean you'll say yes if I ask you to go on a date with me?"
Louis' answering grin is blinding. "Yeah, I'd think so."
Harry grins back at him, before ducking back in for a kiss.
They spend the rest of the day together, starting with the four of the boys cleaning up the mess from the party and sending a few stragglers home, before Louis takes a shower (alone, sadly). After Louis changes into some of Harry's clothes, the rest of it is spent either kissing and talking and cuddling in Harry's bed, or curled up together on the couch in the living room, watching telly and playing FIFA and doing some more talking and just generally getting to know each other better. Zayn and Liam come hang out with them for a while, but for the majority of the day, it's just Louis and Harry. Harry's actually much funnier and cheekier than Louis would have originally thought, and they're both almost constantly making each other laugh at something or another. And while Louis still really wants to jump Harry's bones, he's content to just sit with him and enjoy his company, and by the end of the day, he thinks it's safe to say that he really likes him.
Harry and Louis end up in almost constant communication after that — Louis more than making up for the days he didn't text or call Harry in the beginning — because if they aren't physically together, they're texting, and if they aren't texting, they're on the phone or snapchatting or some other form of digital communication, and honestly, by the time a week passes, Louis' cheeks are practically aching from the near constant smile that seems to be permanently etched onto his face.
The only downside to the whole thing, is that Louis and Harry haven't had sex yet. Not that he wants to rush anything, because if Harry isn't ready then Louis definitely won't push, but Louis can't help the fact that he's almost constantly horny, and he's fucked himself to orgasm almost every night with Harry's name falling from his lips, and he just really wants Harry inside of him as soon as possible.
It's not even that they haven't talked about it. They flirt and make innuendos on an almost constant basis, and they've even talked about how attracted they are to each other, and Louis even told Harry that he likes to get fucked, before Harry in turn told him that he's not picky about whether he's getting fucked or doing the fucking. They've discussed it, they've even sexted a few times and sent each other dirty snapchats, but they haven't gotten around to doing anything substantial. Not even a handjob, and Louis thinks he's probably even more sexually frustrated now than he was before.
When their first date rolls around, after they've been talking non-stop for two weeks, Louis is equal parts excited and nervous. He doesn't know why he's nervous, since he feels like he knows Harry pretty well by now, but just the fact that they're going on an actual official proper date is enough to spike his nerves.
By the time Harry actually comes to pick him up, Louis is practically shaking with nerves, but as soon as he sees Harry in the doorway, all of his apprehension dissipates. Harry kisses him right then and there, tells him how great he looks, and they both stand there just smiling at each other for what feels like five whole minutes, but is probably much less, until they’re on their way out.
The first date goes perfectly, the typical dinner and a movie scenario, ending with both of them in Harry’s bed exchanging messy handjobs and falling asleep in each other’s arms.
A few days later, they go on their second date, which is a mid-afternoon picnic in the park, that involves a massive tickle fight and ends with the two of them sprawled out on a blanket laughing into each other’s mouths and trying to figure out which cloud in the sky looks the most like a penis.
After that, it seems that they don’t even keep count of their ‘dates’ anymore, and they've stopped calling them dates anyway, ever since they’d made it official and started calling each other boyfriends after the second date. They go out all the time, or stay in, and spend as much time together as possible, and they’re so blissed out on each other that their friends have taken to teasing them about it constantly.
“Honestly, Lou. You’re fucking glowing. I can tell how well fucked and love drunk you are from a mile away. It’s kind of disgusting, actually,” Zayn says to him one day during their shift at the coffee shop, and Louis only half-heartedly swats at him as he tries to hide his grin, unsuccessfully. Zayn just rolls his eyes fondly at him and tells him that he’s happy for him. He’s actually a lot better about it than Louis had been about Zayn and Liam, but he can’t really be held accountable for that, really. He was lonely at the time, and maybe a little bitter, and besides, he’s more than making up for that now. The four of them hang out quite a bit, and Niall’s somehow joined the little group as well. Sometimes it’s a bit much for him, though, since hanging out with two incredibly blissed out new couples can often make someone feel like a fifth wheel, but somewhere along the line his girlfriend Barbara slid into the mix as well, and they find that even she fits pretty well with them. They don’t see as much of her, but when the six of them hang out together, it’s always a good time.
Louis and Harry seemed to have passed their no-sex barrier as well after they’d made it official, and they’ve actually been pretty embarrassing with how they can’t really keep their hands off of each other. But after two months of officially being boyfriends, they still haven’t gone all the way. They’ve gotten close a few times, and Harry’s even fingered Louis until he came more than a couple times, but it seems that every time they want to go all the way, something gets in the way.
The first time they get close, they’re on Louis’ couch, and Harry’s just started opening Louis up when Niall walks in with Barbara and Perrie, and well. Things at work are a bit awkward with Perrie for a couple of days, and Niall insists that there are some things you just can’t unsee, but Barbara doesn’t seem to be too particularly bothered, so. Small victories.
The second time, they’re at Harry and Liam’s flat, and Harry’s just finished opening Louis up and he’s just gotten the head inside when they hear loud moans coming from Liam’s room. More specifically, Zayn moaning Liam’s name very, very loudly. Harry and Louis look at each other with wide eyes, and really, they were sure that no one else was even there, but apparently they were wrong. Louis tells Harry to just keep going, that maybe they can block it out, but after Harry nods and keeps inching in slowly, Zayn only gets louder, and they both sigh, because yeah, no. Mood definitely ruined. They end up leaving after that and sharing quiet blowjobs at Louis’ place, but it’s obvious that they’re both a little disappointed that they’d been interrupted.
Louis teases Zayn about it for weeks, but Louis and Harry don’t have the opportunity to try again until a few weeks later, just after they hit the three month mark in their relationship. Or more like, they’re too afraid of being interrupted to try again until the three month mark. Still. They finally catch a break when Niall goes away for the weekend to visit his family in Ireland, and Louis keeps it a surprise until the day Niall leaves.
He invites Harry over that night, and he’s stolen some of Harry’s spare scented candles from his flat and laid them out all over his room, leaving his room lit up in candlelight and honestly, Louis thinks it looks pretty romantic. He’s feeling particularly proud of himself as he puts on his favorite shirt — a thin white one with a low neck that shows off his collarbones — paired with his tightest jeans, and honestly, he should probably just leave himself naked and put on a robe and be done with it since it’s going to come all off anyway, but whatever. He looks good, and he’s sure Harry will appreciate the effort.
He’s just fixing his fringe when he hears the knock at the door, and he feels giddy as he makes his way over to open it, revealing a very gorgeous Harry, smiling brightly down at him. He watches as Harry takes his bottom lip into his mouth as his eyes rake over his body, before raising an eyebrow at him. “You look great, babe. Are we going somewhere?” he asks, before leaning down to give him a quick kiss. Louis doesn’t answer right away in favor of wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him in closer and keeping him there for a few moments as he deepens the kiss.
When they finally pull away, Louis grins at him and shakes his head. “Nope. We’re staying in tonight. That okay?”
Harry just nods and leans in to give him another lingering kiss. “Of course. I don’t care what we do, as long as I’m with you.”
Louis looks at him fondly, stroking his cheek as he whispers, “Sap.”
Harry just grins back at him as Louis leads them further inside and into the living room, before Harry settles down onto the couch, pulling Louis down onto his lap. He wraps his arms around him and nuzzles their noses together, pressing a few short, sweet kisses against his lips before he’s speaking against them. “What do you wanna do, then?”
“This,” Louis whispers as he shifts to straddle Harry’s lap, before leaning down to press their lips together. Harry immediately opens up when Louis licks along his bottom lip, and Louis doesn’t waste any time before turning the kiss filthy, grinding slowly down against Harry. They moan softly into each other’s mouths, and even just this is amazing, and god, Louis thinks maybe he doesn’t care so much about the sex than he does just feeling as close to Harry as possible.
A few minutes later, when they finally pull away to pant into each other’s mouths and catch their breath, Harry looks around before he’s turning back to Louis with furrowed brows. “Where’s Niall?”
“Babe, I hate to break it to you like this, but I don’t really think Niall swings our way.”
Harry shakes his head in exasperation, trying and failing to hide his fond smile. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”
Louis just grins at him, kissing him briefly before responding. “He’s gone to Ireland for the weekend.” He gives Harry a moment to let that sink in, and a second later when his eyes widen and he looks at Louis for silent confirmation of what this means, Louis just nods. Louis loves how sometimes they can say all they need to with just a look.
Harry’s answering grin in blinding, and his grip on Louis’ hips tighten before he’s surging forward to capture Louis’ lips in a heated kiss. It feels like his hands are everywhere now, and Louis’ own hands fly to his hair and thread through the strands, gripping and tugging as their tongues move against each other filthily.
When Harry pulls away to press kisses along Louis’ jaw and then down to his neck, Louis grinds down hard and lets out a soft moan as he feels Harry sucking and biting at his skin, surely bound to leave a mark. Louis loves when Harry does this; marks him up like he’s staking claim on him or something, showing everyone that Louis is his, and he doesn’t mind at all, because it’s true. He’s Harry’s, he has been for a while now, and well, Harry takes up so much space in Louis’ life at this point, and Louis is pretty sure he loves him. He’s never been in love before, hasn’t really ever even come close, but he knows he’s never felt anything close to the things he feels for Harry and the way Harry makes him feel when they’re together, and he’s been thinking about it a lot, and yeah. He’s pretty sure this is love.
“Harry,” Louis sighs out, tugging on Harry’s hair until he’s pulled away from Louis’ skin and facing him properly, and they just look into each other’s eyes for a second, searching, until Louis speaks again. “Let’s go to bed. Want you inside me.”
Harry nods, and Louis climbs off of him and stands up, extending his hand for Harry to take. Once Harry’s standing as well, he takes it and when they make it to Louis’ room, Harry kicks off his shoes before he’s taking in all of the candles and the fact that the room actually looks decently clean for once, and then he’s staring at Louis with an awed, fond expression that tells him that he recognizes that Louis actually made an effort and wanted this to be special. The intensity in his gaze when he steps in front of Louis and looks down into his eyes feels heavy and settles against Louis’ skin like a thick blanket, but instead of feeling scared by it like he might be if it were anyone else, he just really wants to let it envelop him forever.
They don’t say a word as Louis’ hands trail down Harry’s sides until he’s reaching the hem of Harry’s shirt, his fingertips slipping underneath. Harry lets him tug it off of him, lifting his arms to help, and then Harry’s doing the same to Louis, the two of them rarely breaking eye contact the entire time.
Once they’re both shirtless, they find themselves kissing again as they let their hands roam the now-naked skin. Louis finds himself being lead back until the back of his knees are pressing against the mattress, and then Harry’s pushing him back onto it. Louis goes willingly, leaning up on his elbows and looking up at Harry where he’s now looking down at him and raking his eyes all over his body. His eyes don’t stop their assessment as he unbuttons his own jeans and slides them off, kicking them away before crawling on top of Louis. He hovers over him and connects their lips, the kiss hungry and heated, but far too short because after about ten seconds, he’s pulling away to unbutton Louis’ jeans as well. He pulls Louis’ jeans and pants off all in one go, leaving Louis completely exposed to him, his cock lying already half-hard against his belly.
Before Harry has a chance to do anything else, Louis scoots up to the head of the bed, leaning over to reach into his nightstand for a condom and lube. Once he has them in hand, he drops them on the bed and looks over at Harry, only to see that he’s crawling towards Louis, and that he’s completely naked now as well.
Louis lays back and lets his eyes roam Harry’s form as Harry moves closer and closer, until he’s hovering over Louis and spreading Louis’ legs so he can settle in between them. Louis runs his hands up Harry’s sides as Harry settles his weight on his left forearm, so he can bring his right hand up to stroke his fingertips along Louis’ cheek as he looks down at him, his eyes traveling along the planes of Louis’ face. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. I’m so lucky to have you,” he whispers reverently.
Louis looks up at him with a soft smile, before leaning up to press a slow, saccharine kiss to his lips. “Show me,” he murmurs against them as he's pulling away, letting his hips roll up against Harry’s just enough to accentuate his point.
Harry responds by leaning down and reconnecting their lips as he pushes his hips down against Louis’, so that their bare cocks slide against each other, creating a delicious friction. Louis gasps into the kiss, but he begins pushing his hips up just as Harry is grinding his down, and it’s a heady sensation that has Louis rolling his hips up harder to chase the feeling.
It’s not long before Louis is letting out little moans into Harry’s mouth, and he’s finding himself getting more and more impatient to really feel Harry, so he tells him as much. “Need more, want to feel you,” he pants against Harry’s mouth before biting down on his bottom lip. Harry just hums and slows his rhythm until it’s almost torturous, and not nearly enough. Louis huffs and tries pushing up harder to get more friction, but Harry brings a hand down to Louis’ hip to hold him in place. He smirks against Louis’ mouth when Louis whines out an indignant little, “Babe.”
He finally relents when Louis reaches over and grabs the lube, holding it up in front of his face so he can’t ignore it. Harry lets out a rough laugh and leans up onto his knees, grabbing the lube and resting it next to them on the bed. “Alright, alright. Turn over,” he instructs, and he leans back on his calves and watches as Louis follows his direction, turning over and resting on his forearms with his legs spread and arse up.
Louis waits for the tell-tale snick of the lube bottle opening, but it never comes and Louis is a little confused as he feels Harry’s hands squeezing and caressing the skin of his arse. Louis isn’t sure what to expect when Harry grips his cheeks with his hands and spreads them open wide, leaving his hole on display, but his eyes widen when he feels Harry’s breath ghosting over his hole, because oh. His breath gets stuck in his throat when he feels Harry’s tongue darting out to tease his rim, kitten licking a few times, before he’s arching his back and closing his eyes shut tight as he feels Harry's tongue lick a broad stripe from his perineum and up to the top of his hole.
“Fuck,” Louis breathes as he leans his head down on his forearms, his heart pounding and his breathing labored as he feels Harry’s tongue swirling around his rim. He tries pushing his hips back, but Harry’s keeping him in place with his hands still gripping him firmly and holding him open, and he whines as Harry starts tracing his rim excruciatingly slowly. Louis’ chest is heaving with the effort of trying to hold in his whines and whimpers, but he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan when Harry’s tongue suddenly enters him and begins swirling around inside of him.
“Holy fucking shit fuck, Harry,” he chokes out as Harry begins thrusting his tongue in and out quickly, fucking into him with a steady rhythm that makes Louis’ thighs shake. Harry keeps going like that, switching from fucking into him with his tongue and giving little teasing licks around his rim, licking him out until Louis is a writhing, whimpering mess, whining a litany of ‘please’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘god, Harry’ over and over as he clutches onto the sheets so hard that his knuckles turn white.
Louis is too focused on the feeling of Harry’s tongue to notice one of his hands disappearing for a moment, and doesn’t even realize Harry’s opened the bottle of lube until he feels a slicked up finger replacing Harry’s tongue inside of him. Harry thrusts the finger in and out while he continues to lick around his rim, not waiting very long before he’s adding in a second and twisting and scissoring them inside, opening him up. By the time he’s adding in a third, he’s just kissing and biting at the skin of Louis’ arse cheek instead of licking him, and he bites down a bit harder when he crooks his fingers up and hits Louis’ spot. Louis lets out a shout at that, pushing his hips back as his eyes roll back and he’s begging in earnest now, loudly pleading, “Fuck me, Harry, god, please fuck me, n-no more teasing, please oh god, please just fuck me.”
Harry thrusts in a few more times, before he’s pulling away completely, and despite the fact that this is what he asked for, Louis whimpers at the loss. He looks back when he hears Harry’s low, fucked out voice saying, “Turn over, babe. Wanna look at you,” and he immediately moves to oblige. When he’s laid out on his back, thighs splayed open in invitation, he looks up at Harry and watches as he tears open the condom, quickly sliding it on and lubing himself up. He bites his lip when Harry climbs over him, easing himself down between his spread legs and then immediately leaning down to press their lips together.
Louis sighs into the kiss and wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, using his legs to pull their bodies closer together. Harry pulls away at that though, and grabs ahold of Louis’ knees before he’s pulling Louis’ legs up so his calves are pressed against Harry’s chest, with his ankles resting on Harry’s shoulders. He licks his lips as he looks up at Harry, his eyes hooded and his cock resting heavy and full on his tummy, and he’s more than ready for Harry to be inside of him.
Harry reaches down to line himself up, looking down at where his cockhead is now pressed against Louis’ rim, and Louis bites his lip to stifle the whimper that escapes at the pressure. He wants to get a grip on Harry’s hips and push him all the way inside, wants to be filled already, but he forces himself to be patient and let Harry set the pace.
His back arches and his mouth forms an ‘o’ when Harry finally presses inside, just the head at first before he’s slowly, very slowly, pressing further, sliding in inch by inch. Harry leans his body forward as he sinks in, until their foreheads are pressed together and they’re breathing against each other’s mouths. Louis lets out little noises of encouragement, because despite the slight discomfort he’s feeling, it’s so nice to finally feel Harry inside him after waiting for it for so long.
When Harry finally bottoms out, they’re both breathing heavily, and Louis reaches up to tangle a hand into Harry’s hair and pull his head closer, so they’re properly kissing as they take a moment to adjust. After a bit of just licking hotly into each other’s mouths, Harry starts rotating his hips, not moving in and out, just grinding his cock inside Louis’ ass, causing Louis to moan into Harry’s mouth.
Louis tugs on Harry’s curls and forces their mouths apart, tugging on Harry’s bottom lip as they separate, before he’s murmuring against his lips. “Fuck me.” He’s reconnecting their lips as soon as the words are out, but it’s a moment before Harry’s actually moving.
His movements are slow at first, almost too slow as he withdraws and pushes back in like he’s afraid he might break him if he goes too fast, and Louis wants to tell him to hurry up and fuck him properly, but he’s too busy whimpering and licking into Harry’s mouth to do much of anything. Harry seems to get the message when Louis slides his hands down to grip his hips and pushes them down at the same time as he pushes his own hips up, and he starts quickening his pace, causing the sounds of their skin slapping together to fill the air and echo in the room around them, along with their moans.
They’re just moaning against each other’s mouths now, their lips brushing together as Harry keeps fucking down into Louis harder, punching little noises out of him as he sets a relentless pace that makes Louis’ eyes want to roll back. Louis grips onto Harry’s biceps as his moans keep getting louder and louder, not bothering to hold anything back now that he doesn’t have to since they’re finally, blissfully, alone.
This only seems to spur Harry on, because he’s ramming into him so hard that the bed is creaking now, but neither of them care because it feels too good and they’ve been waiting too long for this to focus on anything else. “Fuck, you feel so good, Lou,” Harry groans as he leans his head down and presses their cheeks together, and Louis responds by bringing his hands up to pull at Harry’s hair as he moans out a chorus of ‘Harry, Harry, fuck, Harry’ and ‘fuck me, fuck me, fuck me’ and ‘just like that, oh fuck, so good’.
Louis shouts out when Harry shifts position a bit and hits his prostate dead on, and after hearing Louis' reaction, he starts hitting that spot ruthlessly, using a hand to grip onto one of Louis’ calves as he drives into him repeatedly. Louis’ practically screaming at this point, but he’s too blissed out to care as he throws his head back and lets his high-pitched moans fall from his mouth and reverberate off the walls around them.
They both groan in disappointment when Harry pulls back too far and slips out, but Louis doesn’t let Harry slip back in and continue, instead pushing at his chest until he’s sitting up on his knees and looking at Louis with a wild, confused expression. Louis just looks up at him with a fucked out version of a smirk, before he’s leaning up and grabbing Harry’s shoulders, turning him and pushing him down so his back is pressed against the bed, and straddling his hips.
“Wanna ride you,” he explains, his voice raspy and cracking as he reaches down to grab ahold of Harry’s cock to line him up and guide him back in. Harry grips Louis’ hips tightly as he begins sinking down, slowly just to tease him, but they both let out satisfied groans a moment later when Louis’ arse is finally pressed against the tops of Harry’s thighs and he’s fully seated on his cock.
He swivels his hips and grinds himself down on Harry’s cock for a moment, before he’s lifting up and pushing back down, starting a pace that’s not nearly as slow or teasing as Harry’s had been initially. He settles into a rhythm quickly, fucking himself down on Harry’s cock rapidly as Harry’s hands roam his body. They move up his sides, to his shoulders and back, and then down to his arse, before finally making their way to his chest. He pinches and rubs at Louis’ nipples suddenly, causing the boy to whine and jerk in surprise. He clenches around Harry in retaliation, which pulls a deep groan from him in return that makes Louis bite his lip around his own moan.
Harry leans up then so that they’re both sitting upright, and presses their chests together, spreading his big hands across Louis’ hips as he starts helping to guide his movements up and down as he rides him. Louis moans and lets out little ‘uh uh uh’s when Harry starts kissing his neck and biting and sucking at his collarbones as he tightens his grip on his hips and pulls him down harder on his cock, pushing his hips up as best he can at the same time. Louis just wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and grips onto his curls for leverage as he lets Harry guide him and set the pace as he bounces on his cock.
His own cock is trapped in between them, painfully hard and leaking, and his moans are getting louder and louder, Harry’s name falling from his lips repeatedly as they move together and he finds himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Harry leans back then and pulls Louis with him, their chests still pressed together as he spreads his legs and settles his feet flat on the bed, not giving any warning before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking up into Louis fast and hard. Louis barely has time to react as Harry snakes an arm around him to hold him in place, while his other hand comes up to cup the side of his face. The tenderness of the touch and the intensity of his gaze is a stark contrast to his rough and unrelenting pace, but Louis doesn’t give it a spare thought as his eyes close and he leans his forehead against Harry’s, the moans escaping his lips loud enough that he’s sure Niall can probably hear him all the way in Ireland.
A few moments later, Harry’s mid-groan when he chokes out, “M’close, Louis, fuck,” as his thrusts start growing increasingly sloppy and frenzied.
Louis can feel a tingling settling in his toes and fingertips and at the base of his spine, can feeling his balls drawing up and he knows he’s close as well. He feels frantic as he cries out, “Me too, Harry, fuck, oh god, fuck, come for me, make me come, oh god, please, Harry, please, fuck,” and then he’s coming, his vision whiting out for a moment behind his eyelids where he has them shut tightly, and he can hear himself shouting Harry’s name and babbling incoherently as he’s pulsing and spilling between them.
Harry follows shortly after, as Louis is coming down and basking in his post-coital high, and he shivers as Harry grunts loudly and lets out a string of curses mixed with Louis’ name as he shoots off into the condom, still buried deep inside of Louis. Louis hums when Harry relaxes into the mattress, pressing lazy kisses against his jaw as they both try to even their breathing and steady their heartbeats.
Louis lets out a little whine and pouts when Harry pulls out, leaving him empty and clenching around nothing but air, but he doesn’t mind as much when Harry leans forward and presses their lips together in a sweet, lingering kiss. He reluctantly rolls off to the side when Harry nudges him, letting him get rid of the condom, before he’s right back in his previous position on his back and pulling Louis into his side.
Louis feels loose and pliant as Harry gently strokes at his hair, and he smiles softly up at him and tangles their legs together when he feels Harry press a kiss to his temple with a mumbled, “You’re amazing.” Louis looks up at him and sees Harry looking down at him with such a fond, affectionate expression that causes a familiar warmth to spread through Louis' chest, and he can’t help himself as he instinctively tilts his head up for a kiss. Harry meets him halfway and they kiss languidly for a few moments, both of them sinking into it and letting their lips move against each other slowly and unhurriedly, taking their time since now they’re kissing just to kiss and be close to each other, instead of it leading up to something else.
They’re interrupted just as Louis’ humming contentedly into the kiss, by a loud knock coming from somewhere else in the flat. They both pull away and look at each other with matching wide-eyed, confused looks, waiting in silence for a second before they’re hearing another loud knock and they realize that someone’s pounding on the front door.
“Shit,” Louis groans into Harry’s chest. “Maybe if we ignore it, they’ll go away.”
They hear another series of loud knocks, and he hears Harry sigh. “They sound persistent.”
Louis groans again, but he sits up when Harry does, and they both slowly, albeit reluctantly, get out of bed. Harry rifles through one of Louis’ drawers and tosses Louis a pair of joggers before he’s grabbing a pair for himself, and they slide them on as the pounding on the door continues.
He lets Harry lead the way to the door, but he’s the one to open it up to reveal a disheveled, sleepy looking brunette girl.
“Um, can I—” Louis starts, before the girl’s cutting him off.
“Are you Louis or Harry?” she demands, looking at him expectantly.
“Uh. I’m Louis…” he replies, utterly confused.
“Right. Louis. Look, I’m sure Harry is just fantastic at what he does, if what I’ve been hearing for the past two hours is anything to go by, but can you please keep it down, for fuck’s sake? It’s fucking arse o’clock in the morning, and some of us actually need to get some sleep, yeah?”
She looks more tired and exasperated than anything at this point, but Louis can only stare back at her wide-eyed, a blush creeping up his cheeks as the full implications of her words sink in. He shoots Harry a look, and finds that he’s looking just as flustered and embarrassed as Louis is.
“Shit, oh my god, w-we’re so, so sorry, honestly—” Louis stammers, before he’s being cut off, yet again.
“Whatever, just keep it down, okay? Jesus,” she huffs out, before turning on her heel and setting off down the hall, still mumbling to herself as she walks away. Louis looks after her for a second, his eyebrows practically up to his hairline as he closes the door and turns to Harry.
As soon as they make eye contact, they’re both laughing uncontrollably, grabbing onto each other and leaning against each other for support so they don’t fall down in their hysterics. When their laughter has died down a bit and they’re just standing in front of each other and giggling into each other’s shoulders, Louis finally speaks, still half-laughing.
“I’ve never met that girl in my entire life.”
“I can’t believe we were so loud she actually caught our names,” Harry responds, a huge grin spread across his face, and that just sends them into another, much smaller, giggle fit.
Once they’re calmed down again, they just lean against each other, holding each other in their arms and gently swaying back and forth. Harry presses his lips into Louis’ hair and Louis hums contentedly.
“I love you,” Harry sighs, and the way he says it so casually makes Louis think he probably didn’t actually mean to say it out loud. When Louis feels him freeze a second later, probably just realizing what he said, his suspicions are confirmed.
Louis’ heart beats harder in his chest, but he has a bright grin on his face when he looks up at Harry. “I love you, too,” he murmurs, and he watches as Harry’s face transforms from a look of uncertainty and fear, to a tentative smile.
“Really?” he asks, with a hopeful lilt to his voice.
“Yeah, really,” Louis replies, watching as Harry’s smile widens until he’s actually beaming at him. Louis has no doubt that his smile is probably just as wide and bright.
They share a kiss that’s more the two of them smiling against each other’s lips and giggling happily into each other’s mouths than actual kissing, before they find themselves moving back into Louis’ bedroom. They blow out the candles before crawling under the duvet, molding their bodies together and pressing as close to each other as they can possibly get as they settle in, cuddling and whispering sweet things to each other for a while until they’re half-asleep and laying in comfortable silence, too tired to keep their eyes open any longer. They whisper ‘I love you’ to each other one more time before they fall asleep in each other’s arms to the rhythm of their heartbeats, both of them completely certain now that, yeah, this is definitely love.