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Louis loves his job.

And that’s saying something considering he works part-time at a rollerskating rink. It’s nice though. He has the late shift most often, meaning he gets to work the private “after-hours” parties. It’s mostly a lot of boozy bachelorette parties and boozy birthday parties, and boozy get togethers and to most of his coworkers’ delight, a lot of giggly girls all of the time. It’s entertaining to say the least, especially since Louis gets to participate in a lot of their activities, even gets offered a shot here and there.  

It’s fun, seeing drunken bachelorettes and bridesmaids try to play limbo on wobbly skates, and more often than not, his shift goes by fast, especially when he’s paired with the easily-excitable Niall Horan, who had become a fast friend when they both started working at the rink years ago.

Niall, despite being a bit loud at times and constantly talking through a mouthful of popcorn, is a cool guy; sometimes even sharing his weed with Louis on slow nights. Really, the only downside to Niall is that he spends their shared shifts waxing poetics about his stupidly attractive boyfriend, Zayn, who according to Niall: “models part-time” and “makes a mean quesadilla.”  

Louis supposes he can’t really complain because most of the anger about Niall’s boyfriend is directed at his own alarmingly long dry-spell. It’s not really Niall’s fault that he doesn’t have someone to make him quesadillas or give him “the best blowjobs ever” as Louis had learned after Niall had had one too many to drink. Such a charming fellow, that Niall.

It’s Saturday and Louis is a little disappointed that he’s working tonight, only because Aiden texted him earlier about a huge fucking party that he was having and apparently there would be “dick for days.” Which like, in spite of the crudeness of Aiden’s words, sounded pretty damn great.

He’s getting too tired of overhearing shmoopy phone calls between Niall and Zayn and not being able to make them himself.

Basically, he needs to get some.

Niall and him are just starting their shift for the night and he keeps getting texts from Aiden. They’re coming every few minutes now, the buzzing in Louis’ pocket a steady reminder that he isn’t going to be getting any tonight and will instead be surrounded by lots and lots of women. He and Niall are working a bachelorette party, already setting up various penis-themed decorations around the rink and putting up pink streamers and tablecloths, as per the maid of honor’s request.

“You know Niall, my life wouldn’t be this sad if I worked at a bar right? Atleast I’d get to see hot boys in various states of inebriation on a day to day basis.” Louis says, wresting with a large penis cutout. “Maybe there I’d meet a man interested in men, also interested in getting laid.”

Niall laughs loudly, “Louis. Lemme tell you what you gotta do to get laid.”

Louis knows the story even before Niall begins it, it’s his favorite and Louis has its vomit-inducing cuteness memorized. He doesn’t really have the energy to fight it, especially since the only dick he’s touched in the last few months is a bright pink cut-out of one he’s currently trying to tape to the wall for a raucous game of ‘Pin the Balls on the Penis’. He’s never going to understand bachelorette parties.

Louis’ penis reverie is interrupted by Niall’s loud voice, “See Tommo, to get yourself a man, all you have to do is take a Freshman beginners art course, ask the hot TA for help on your assignment and BAM! 3 years later you’re living together, sharing takeout, while he models for Burberry. Simple.”

“Ah yes Niall, let me just go back in time and take your place and find myself a Zayn.” Louis says, rolling his eyes, “It’s obviously that easy to find the love of your life.”


“Hey man. Don’t knock it until it happens to you.” Niall says, hopping down from where he was placing a large “Bachelorette Bitches” sign above the bar-area, “You never know. The man of your dreams could walk through the door at any minute.”

Louis rolls his eyes, Niall ever the romantic. “Fuck off. You know I’m not interested in women, let alone ones that think ‘Pinning the Balls on a Penis’ is an acceptable game to play. I’m only looking out for my crotch in this.”

Niall shrugs and it’s then when they hear the sound of what must be a small herd of women approaching, loud laughs making themselves known to Louis and Niall.

“Better buck up,” Niall says, making his way to the door to greet the ladies, “Gonna be a long night.”

Louis sighs. It’s going to be a long, penis-filled night. And not in the way Louis wanted. 



Louis was right. There are dicks everywhere

It’s funny, Louis thinks, the obsession with phallic shaped things during a bachelorette party; like maybe because you’re about to only see one penis for the rest of your life, there needs to be about 100 fake ones scattered around you, ready to participate in the fun and games of a party. 

Louis’ been perched in the music booth for the entirety of the party so far, located on the second floor. From his nest in the booth, he can see about 10 women sitting at one of the round tables outside the rink; each holding very large glasses of wine, with obnoxious straws with little plastic cocks at the top. They’re all wearing matching shirts emblazoned with ‘bridesmaid’ across the boobs and the the bride herself is adorned with what Louis can see to be a very crudely fashioned crown, adorned with a very purple dildo. Cute.

He’s been up in the booth for awhile now, while Niall’s been down in the bunker, so to speak, assisting the ladies with their skates and setting up various games. Louis’ kind of been zoned out for the past hour, focusing on playing music, hoping to drown out the giggles.

He knows his time alone is up when he sees Niall approaching up the stairs. He looks incredibly worn-out, no doubt listening to 10 drunken women sing along to Britney Spears doing on a number on him.

“Your turn Tommo. You can’t hide up here forever.” Niall says, collapsing in the chair next to Louis, “Let me handle the music for awhile, you go entertain the ladies.” Niall nods to where the group of women are making their way to the rink, wobbly from the drinking and the skates on their feet.

Louis acquiesces, knowing that he handles the chaos a lot better than Niall. Having four sisters definitely prepared him for this job, a fact that Niall is constantly using against him; especially in situations like this.

“Fine, fine,” Louis says, grabbing his phone and jacket, “Also, don’t act like you’re not just gonna call Zayn and talk about how much you love each other all fucking night.”

“Don’t you dare,” Louis says as Niall quickly opens his mouth to defend himself, “I know how you two are. Worse than a couple of lovesick teenagers I swear.”

“You’re just jealous Tommo.” Niall says, already pulling out his cell phone to call Zayn. He’s about to dial when he turns to Louis, “By the way, there might be a bit of a surprise down there for you. Don’t think you should knock the whole ‘lovesick teenager’ thing just yet.”

Louis has absolutely no idea what that means but before he can ask, Niall must have reached Zayn, face turning soft and voice saccharine, almost two pitches higher than it usually is. He books it out of the booth as soon as he hears Niall coo out an “I love you baby,” and before he can hear anything else that might scar him for life.


He’s forgotten Niall’s lovesickness soon enough, making his way downstairs to where the Bacherlorette party has made an absolute wreck of the seating area, forlorn penis cut-outs strewn across the ground, pink streamers everywhere.

Deciding that Niall should have the honor of picking up all the dicks on the ground, as Louis would much rather watch the ladies stumble on the rink, falling over each other and giggling uncontrollably, he leaves the mess to go sit down.

Louis makes his way over the seating area where most parents sit when little kids have birthday parties, plopping down on the bench where he has the best view of the rink; lit up with a pretty ridiculous light show and accompanied by a soundtrack of Justin Bieber’s greatest hits, thanks to Niall.

The view is pretty standard for a boozy, private party. There’s about 3 women slumped over the edge of the rink, trying desperately not to fall over. There’s one woman completely off the radar, plopped down against one of the walls, talking on her phone tearfully. Then there’s the bride herself, surrounded by the rest of the ladies; giggling and singing along to Niall’s favorite JB song, ‘Boyfriend.’

What’s not so standard is that there’s one more person on the rink. And it’s not a pink-tutu wearing bridesmaid. Louis looks closer. It’s a boy. Or a man. Or a guy. Or a boy? He can’t tell how old he is from here. All he can really see is the long line of his back, stretched across the same type of t-shirt emblazoned with “bridesmaid.” Louis smiles a little. This man-boy-guy is fit. Like incredibly, absolutely, mouth-wateringly fit. He’s got lean legs that are stuffed deliciously into a pair of black skinny jeans that fit him like a glove. His arse is small and cute and all Louis wants to do is bite it. The boy’s long, curly, brown hair keeps falling in his face every few seconds and Louis wants to brush it off his face like they do in the movies, all-romantic like.

Louis can’t stop watching him. Everything he’s doing is cute. From the way he wobbles, unsteady on his skates to how he giggles as he catches himself. He’s captivated by the stranger, wants nothing more than to go over there and talk to him.

But, like. The thing is, the guy keeps fucking falling. He’s been around the rink maybe three times now, and Louis’ counted 10 instances when his bambi-like legs gave out on him and he fell to his knees or his bum. It’s cute really, cause everytime he does fall, he giggles and smiles to himself, popping back up on his rollerskates and trying again. Despite all the falling and flailing, he looks like he’s having fun, skating around the rink mostly on his own, stopping (falling) occasionally to talk to one of the girls. 

It doesn’t help that everytime he does fall, Louis forcibly has to keep himself from running, or skating rather, across the rink and picking him up in his arms and holding him tight to keep safe.

He’s been trying so hard to look away, wanting to just focus on his phone or what music Niall is playing, but he can’t help but sneak little glances back at this boy.

He’s just so lovely, and Louis wants to know him. Wants to talk to him. But he really can’t find an excuse to go over. I mean, it is a party, he is an employee and can’t really be butting in to this private bachelorette party, no matter if this mystery boy she brought with her is his soulmate. He just can’t. 

“Fuck it.” Louis says after twenty minutes of awkward glances and a frustrated pants situation, slipping on his skates and deftly hopping on the rink. He should really go talk to the bride-to-be right? Just to make sure everythings going okay. That’s the only reason. Really.

He’s making his way toward the gaggle of women, trying desperately to keep his eyes ahead and away from the boy. He manages to steal a few lingering glances at him on his way to the women, watching him fall and get up chuckling for the up-teenth time.

“You ladies having fun then?” Louis asks, sliding over to where the obviously tipsy women have clumped together.

The woman with the shirt emblazoned with a rhinestone ‘Bride’ titters and skates towards him, wobbling all the way. She grabs onto Louis’ arm to steady herself and smiles big.

“Hello. I’m Gemma and I’m getting….” She pauses and stares before yodeling out “married” as loud as she can. “You know. You are cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.” She slurs, “If I wasn’t getting married I’d quite like to take a skate with you, if you know what I mean.” She winks exaggeratedly. 

Louis smiles. Oh how he loves a drunk bride. “That’s sweet love, but I’m sure your fiancé wouldn’t be all that happy with you taking a skate with me.” She frowns. “Besides,” Louis continues, giving a sly smile toward her, “I’m not sure you have the right type of skating equipment for me, if you know what I mean.”

The girl busts out laughing at that. “Oh my. Subtle. You’re quite the flirt…” She waits expectantly for Louis to chime in with his name before continuing,

“Ah Louis. Cute cute cute name.” Another wink. “I’m going to head back to my lady friends now and brag about how hot you are to them because I’m drunk and I’m going to be married soon.”

Louis chuckles at her, “Sure Gemma. Have fun. Please let me know if you need anything. I’m here to help.”

Nodding, she begins to skate away, but then looks back, “Oh Louis. Why don’t you go check on my brother eh?” She nods her head towards the very boy Louis’ been drooling over for the past half-hour. “Looks like he might need some help from a fit bloke. Especially a fit bloke who likes to stare at his arse.”

Louis blushes as Gemma smirks, rolling back with drunken ease towards her friends.

Right. Okay. He’ll just go talk to this boy then. This adorable and frustratingly beautiful boy. It’s fine.


The boy, Gemma’s brother, is only a few feet away from Louis, moving at glacial speed on his wobbly feet, had gotten up from his last fall not but a minute before. Louis catches up easily, positioning himself on the boy’s right side.

It must scare him, how quickly Louis appears, because the next thing he knows, arms are flailing and skates are sliding as the two collapse onto the hard surface of the rink, limbs tangling together. 

The fall is hard, Louis’ bum getting the brunt of the impact. The boy is beneath him, having fallen first. Louis quickly realizes that he’s got his own legs twisted with those long, gorgeous things he had been lusting over earlier. All he can see of his skating partner is dark curly hair and a broad chest heaving up and down in what Louis can make out to be silent giggles.

He’s giggling uncontrollably. Actually giggling. How wonderfully adorable is that?

Louis can make out a breathy “Oops” from the boy in between the peals of laughter.

“Hi. Um. Oh my god. Are you okay?” Louis asks. 

More giggles.

Louis detangles himself from the boy, who is in some sort of deranged laughing fit and pushes himself up.

More giggles.

“Uh. Hey mate?” Louis tries, leaning down “You need a hand?”

“Oh..” A few more titters. “Oh God.” Sputtery little squeals now. “My goodness. I am so….(more chuckling) so sorry man.” He says, his giggles slowing down to until he’s just breathily sighing.

The boy brings a hand to his face, pushing away his curls and exposing his smiling visage. If Louis had thought his legs were beautiful, it was nothing compared to his face. Bright eyes, cute dimples that lit up his face so bright that they’re probably the reason for the glaciers melting, are staring up at him. Louis can’t help but smile right back at him.

“It’s quite alright.” Louis finally answers, “I’m sorry for sneaking up on you.”

The boy stares at him for a minute. “Oh. Well. Um. Hi there. This is awfully embarrassing for me.” He says, a blush coloring his face, “Especially since you’re so fit.”

“What was that?” Louis says, unable to make out all that he’s saying due to lingering giggles and pieces of curly hair stuck in his gorgeous mouth.

More blushing. “Oh nothing mate, just said I’d love a hand up!” He says, bashful and smiling.

“Oh yes, of course.” Louis says, reaching down to grasp the, holy fucking shit, massive hands of this boy he’s just met.

He wobbles up and towers over Louis, steadying himself with a massive hand to Louis’ shoulder. 

“Sooooo. Sorry about falling on you, I’m Harry. Harry Styles.” He thrusts out his hand for Louis to shake, “Brother of the bride!”

Louis can’t quite believe his luck that an incredibly cute boy is actually in front of him, introducing himself and not backing away in horror, after Louis had fallen on him not five minutes ago. “Hello Harry ‘brother of the bride’ Styles, I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” 

“Louis! What a lovely name.” Harry says happily, “It’s nice to meet you. I can’t tell you how nice it is to be around a bit of testosterone at last.”

“Well, here I am! Testosterone Tomlinson!” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, Louis knows he’s doomed. It’s by far one of the dorkiest things he’s ever said.

He’s waiting for that moment of silence and shame that he knows will come when Harry realizes Louis is actually a huge dork but all the comes is a loud burst of laughter, followed by Harry throwing his hand across his mouth.

They’re both laughing after that, Harry because he’s found some sort of humor out of Louis’ ridiculous words and Louis, because of how cute and silly Harry is. “You are so funny, you know that?” Harry says after a few seconds, laughter stuttering to a stop, “That was funny.”

Louis knows it wasn’t, and Harry must either be trying to get in his pants or he’s just got the weirdest sense of humor ever. He hopes it’s a mixture of both because he doesn’t really think people like Harry come along that often.

Harry’s hand finds its way to Louis’ shoulder when he speaks next, “So you work here then?”

Louis really doesn’t want that hand to go away, “Yup. Have for a few years now. The boss loves me, that’s why I get to work all these fun parties.”

“Oh parties like this huh? Bet you love all these drunken girls stumbling around. Sorry it was me falling down instead of one of them”, Harry says, sadly taking his hand from Louis’ shoulder. He misses the warmth already. “Bet they’d love a hand from you since you’re so strapping.”

“Oh yeah, I guess. Not sure if that’s what I’m doing this for.” Louis says, hoping to convey his interests loud and clear. “Kind of rather help fit boys up than the lasses.”

Harry stares at him for a moment before he sees his eyes glaze over in clarity. It’s kind of like when Joey on Friends finally realizes that Chandler and Monica are sleeping together, but a lot cuter. Louis’ definitely more into tall U.K. boys than muscular italians.

The point is, Harry’s cute as hell when he realizes exactly what Louis’ talking about, smile back on his face. Happily, Harry’s hand makes it way back to his shoulder, “That’s good to know Louis.”

Louis reddens furiously at that and what the hell? This is not Louis. Louis usually doesn’t let pretty boys make him blush and make his skin feel like it’s trying to crawl right off his body. Louis doesn’t let allow himself to think about what it would be like to french braid a boys hair until the third date, at least.

He’s finding that he doesn’t really care, especially when Harry starts speaking again; “So, Louis, rollerskater extraordinaire….you think you might be able to give me a few pointers? I don’t seem to be rocking and rolling all that well.”

The joke is cheesy but Louis laughs anyway, just because of how cute Harry looks when he makes a joke; mouth unable to keep from smiling and fingers fidgeting.

“Well, Harry, rollerskater un-extraordinaire, from what I’ve seen tonight, you definitely need the help,” Louis says, rolling back towards Harry, “And I suppose it is my job to help out the customers so I really have no choice but to listen to your dumb jokes and teach you to skate.”

“Heyyyyy.” Harry says, trying to separate himself from Louis in mock anger. It’s then that he starts to wobble again, before hurrying to grab onto Louis again, this time with two hands, one clutching his shoulder, the other his upper arm.

“Wow. Hotshot. Don’t think you have room to talk really.” Louis says, really hoping he isn’t imagining the way Harry’s hand is lingering as it moves down his upper arm. He’s never been more thankful that he works out than at this point.

Harry ducks his head, “Guess not. Gonna need the pro to teach me the ways of the rink.” Harry lets go of Louis, but then reaches out one of those swoonworthy hands and wiggles his fingers, “I’m all yours.” Louis can’t argue with that, grabbing Harry’s fingers and making a soft sound of happiness when he feels Harry’s fingers interlock with his own.

“Okay so, it’s really important for you to not be so tense.” Louis says, reaching over and smoothing a hand across the line of Harry’s back. It’s a lie, obviously, but Louis’ been itching to get his hands on Harry in some capacity; unwilling to go another minute without touching at Harry’s impressive muscles. The way his tight shirt is hugging the curves of his body is making it hard to keep his hands off.

“So now that the secrets out about my luxurious job working at a roller rink, what do you do?” Louis asks, pulling Harry beside him as they begin to skate. Louis hopes that keeping Harry talking will prevent him from falling as much.

“Louis. Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with working at a roller rink. I think it’s kind of cool. It’s a dying art.” Harry says, thoughtful, “It seems like nobody really wants to go to a night out at the rink anymore. I was the one who told Gemma we should come here for her bachelorette party.”

“You were the one who suggested this?” Louis’ gasps in mock offence, “Mr. Harry Styles, the most uncoordinated man on earth wanted to go to a roller rink, where he then proceeded to fall down countless times!?”

“Heyyyy. What can I say, I like the idea of rollerskating. Never really been able to do it, as you can tell.”

“That’s obvious,” Louis says, pointing down where Harry’s legs still haven’t stopped their wobbling. He giggles. “I’m starting to think this was all a ploy to get me to come over here and hold your hand.”

“And what if it was?” Harry says, suddenly very serious, “A ploy, that is.”

“I’d say it was a pretty good one, might have to take you to dinner or something to give you props.” Louis says, rubbing his free hand across Harry’s back just slightly, touch light. “I would also say you’re an incredible actor because this has been truly pitiful.”

Harry face breaks out into a beam, “Good to know Lou.”

Louis squeaks at the nickname. It’s another nail in his ever-expanding coffin that Harry is unknowingly determined to put him in. Louis wants to die, if only to ensconce himself in a coffin, preferably with Harry by his side. He shakes his head out of his coffin-related commentary, wondering why does this boy makes him feel like he’s simultaneously on the verge of screaming laughing.

“So what about you roller-skater boy, what do you do when you’re not hosting bachelorette parties and falling on your butt.” Louis asks, bumping his hip against Harry’s.

“Well. I’m still a student, in my last year, so I don’t have that much time for a full time job, but in my spare time I babysit.” Harry replies.

A cute boy who spends his free time with children? Louis is completely fucked.  “Oh. So you like kids then, I assume?” He asks, hoping to hear something cheesy and sappy and harry-esque come out of his mouth.

“Oh god. Yeah. Absolutely. I’m so glad Gemma’s getting married. I keep telling her she has to pop some little ones out as soon as they’re hitched but she wants to wait a few years. Seems a bit silly to me.” Harry says, smiling down at where his and Louis’ hands are interlocked. “Personally, I can’t wait to have a whole brood. Want my own footie team really.”

Louis can’t believe what Harry’s saying. “Me too mate. Always envisioned myself the coach of my own team of little troublemakers. Hopefully they wouldn’t end up as rambunctious as me, but what can you do?”

“That’s amazing Louis,” Harry says, his eyes lighting up, “Anyone’d be lucky to have something like that with you. 

Louis shrugs, unable to respond to how lovely and kind Harry is being, sure if he did try to speak, the only thing that would come out of his mouth would be dolphin squeaks.

“So do you have any siblings? Anyone close to being able to pop out babies?” Harry asks.

“I’ve got four sisters actually!” Harry gasps gleefully as Louis continues, “All younger, and entirely nowhere close to having children of their own. Nowhere close to being able to date if you ask me.” Louis is still under the impression that his 18 year old sister should be celibate.

“That’s so fun. I guess that’s part of why you like kids then?”

Louis smiles, “Yeah. Always have, always will. I think I understand kids a lot more than I do adults really. I’m a bit of child myself if you can’t tell.”

“I understand what you mean,” Harry says quietly, “Can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that I’m about to graduate and instead of Mum doing my laundry on weekends, I’ve got to do it myself! I don’t even know what kind of detergent to buy!”

“My advice, always go with the fragrance-free stuff, it’s good for your skin.” Louis says, “Or else just stick with what your mom uses, you smell quite nice.”


“Yeah. And don’t worry too much about being a grown-up,” Louis sighs, “I’m 24 and still haven’t quite gotten the hang of being one. It’ll come to you with time.”

Harry nods in agreement, “Think I could learn a lot from you, Louis Tomlinson.”


They’ve been skating for what has to be an hour now, conversation flowing steadily between the two. Louis has learned that Harry’s got an impressive collection of beanie babies, has a cat named Doug, and is quite fond of fruit. Louis has groaned about Niall and Zayn, and has talked Harry’s ear off about the last season of Breaking Bad. Through his declarations of love for Jesse Pinkman, Harry has still listened intently, smiling and asking questions at all the right moments.

Harry’s really interesting, is the thing, always has a cute, albeit long, story to tell Louis or a tidbit of trivia to add in. He also seems to have a new knock-knock joke on hand for every lull in the chatter, which Louis has quickly come to love.

Louis has noticed that the gentle croon of Frank Sinatra has replaced the pop-melange that Niall usually plays, his velvet voice filling the entire rink.

It’s nice. Because Harry seems really tactile, smoothing his thumb across Louis’ hands every so often in a way that doesn’t seem so accidental, especially since the touch of his finger always comes at a lull in their conversation.

Louis might admit that it’s even a bit romantic, maybe. The bachelorettes have made their way off the rink and the sound of their laughter is muted by the evident playlist of love songs that Niall, that bastard, put on. The lights have dimmed, replaced by just the twinkling of soft-fairy lights around the top of the rink. It’s almost like they’re the only two people in the world, Harry’s hand not faltering from where it’s clutching at Louis’. He seems a bit steadier on his feet, even able to move so that he skates, instead of Louis dragging him along.

Even with that, Louis can’t help but clutch at his hip when he thinks that Harry’s about to trip up. He doesn’t think Harry minds all that much, what with the sly little glances he’s throwing Louis and the constant warmth of his hand and steady pressure of his thumb against Louis’ hand.

Everything about this is perfect, Louis thinks after their 10th circle around the rink. He’s never met someone he literally cannot take his eyes off of. There’s something about Harry that makes Louis feel like his heart is leaping out of his chest and his stomach is full of creepy crawlies.

A few minutes later he hears a small cough and looks up to see Harry staring at him expectantly.

“Is there something you need Curly?” Louis asks, relishing in the blush that Harry sports at the term of endearment.

“Erm. yeah. I was just getting kind of thirsty.” Harry says.

“Oh. Yes.” Louis says, mind clearing of fantasies of Harry holding his baby, Harry giggling as they cuddle, Harry on his knees for Louis… “Um, let me just get back to my job. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time! Is there anything I can get you to drink?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow adorably. Louis has to stop himself from reaching out to smooth out the wrinkle. This is getting out of hand.

“No, Louis. I mean… um...I meant like, did you want to go, maybe with me? To get a drink?” Harry asks, looking quite nervous and quite cute. He continues his ramble,  “I mean. If you’re not busy of course, I totally understand if you don’t want to or if this is unprofessional, I just thought I’d ask.” Harry trails off, out of breath a bit.

“Don’t be silly Curly, do you really think I’m worried about being professional? I’ve been slumming it here with a male bridesmaid for hours now!” Harry’s smile is back now, Louis could weep with joy, “Let’s go get a drink and maybe bug a bit Niall, huh?”

“Yeah. That sounds great. Although….” Harry stops, “You might want to be careful because I can’t quite get off the rink without falling. We wouldn't want another pile-on situation.”

“Maybe I would,” Louis says, wiggling his eyebrows and eliciting another sweet blush from Harry. If Louis liked makeup or knew anything about it, he’d try to bottle up the color in Harry’s cheek because he doesn’t doubt it would sell out in a minute.

Louis reaches out his hand to help Harry off the rink, the two plopping down on the ground immediately, taking off their skates. It’s comforting to finally be on steady ground with Harry, Louis’ still feeling wobbly, although for a very different reason. 

That reason was Harry Styles and Louis was quite certain that in his presence, he wouldn’t ever feel like he was completely steady.



The casual observer, upon looking at Harry and Louis and their current position, would probably assume they were some sort of couple. 

It’s apparent in the way that their seats are stuck so close together, the legs of the chairs tangled in the same way the legs of Harry and Louis are twisted together. It’s apparent in their bowed heads, hovering close to each other. It’s also apparent in the soft laughter and hushed voices and the hand that Harry currently has resting high on Louis’s thigh, warm and heavy.

That hand, Louis thinks, is making their current conversation about the merits of french toast vs. pancakes, slightly more erotic than a conversation about breakfast should really be. Louis doesn’t even think Harry notices what’s he’s doing at this point. His hands are so big and strong that just the heat radiating off of them has Louis’ already tight jeans feeling a lot more uncomfortable.

They’ve been at the table for over an hour now, sharing bowl of pretzels, and talking about almost everything really. They’re currently talking about their hopes and dreams and aspirations and Harry has just informed Louis that he’s working on zoology degree, which is really quite fitting.

“And what about you then, Louis.” Harry asks, “If you weren’t kicking butt here at the rink, what do you think you’d be doing?”

“Well. I have a theatre degree.” Louis says, unable really to make eye contact with Harry, “Always wanted to be an actor. Kinda tried to be one for awhile. Not the most intelligent decision.”

It’s hard for him to say, so used to it not working out for him that he’s just taken to keeping this part of himself hidden away.

He’s waiting for Harry to laugh at him or something, knowing how it goes usually. He knows how it went when he told his step-dad and was met with  ‘Louis. You’ll never get a job as an actor.’

“Wow.” Harry says quietly. “That’s amazing Louis. I can totally see you doing that.”

Louis’ head pops up quickly. What the hell?

“Seriously? You’re not gonna laugh at me and tell me I should’ve picked a major that actually might get me a job one day?” He asks, incredulous.

Harry frowns, “Of course not Lou. Anything you care so much about can’t be bad, especially when it comes to you. I can see you doing theatre. It fits perfectly. 

Louis is blushing furiously. Harry is making him feel like he’s 16 years old again with a crush on his fit math teacher.

“You ever seen A Midsummer’s Nights Dream?” Harry asks quickly.

“Have I ever seen A Midsummer’s Nights Dream? Honestly Harry you’re looking at a theatre major here. And besides, that’s my favorite play of all time probably.” Louis says, giddy that Harry is referencing the play that made him want to act in the first place.

“Fine fine Mr. Actor, I was going to say…. I think you’d be perfect as Puck. Or Nick Bottom. You kind of make me giggle regardless, and you’ve got that short thing going for you. That’s how I picture Puck. 

“Hey!” Louis retorts, swatting at Harry’s chest, “For your information, I’m actually quite tall. It’s not my fault you’re some weird 6 foot tall alien.”

Harry ducks down, lips grazing Louis’ ear and whispers, “I hear aliens quite like short boys with quite nice arses.”

It’s simultaneously the most arousing and peculiar thing Louis’ heard, ever, and he’s not sure whether to respond by kissing Harry straight on the mouth or laughing.

He’s not given the chance to decide because at that point, an awfully inebriated bride to be comes ambling over.

“Harr. Harr. Harry.” She finally gets out. “It’s time to go please and thank you very much thank you.”

“You alright there Gems?” Harry drops his hand from Louis’ thigh, much to Louis’ chagrin, “Had enough to drink then?”

Gemma sighs loudly and plops down on Louis’ lap with a thump, “Just thinkin bout how the only cock I ever get to see from now on is my dumb fiancé’s.”

She turns to Louis and begins to whisper. Well, since she’s beyond drunk, her whisper is actually louder than her actual speaking voice so Harry gets to hear Gemma squeak out what comes next. “You know. My brother over here, he’s kind of been in a bit of desert situation. If you know what I mean.” She glances back over to Harry, “I mean he’s like in a hella long dry spell. I saw the way he was looking at your arse there Lou Lou Louis!!!” She throws Louis and Harry a showy wink, “Think you could get a bit of rain back in his desert?”

Louis is trying as hard as he can to hold in his laughter and keep Gemma upright on his lap. He glances over to Harry and can tell that he caught every word, face beet red, blush climbing up his cheeks and neck.

“GEMMA!” Harry squeals, “I think that it’s time to go.”

Gemma grumbles as she get off Louis’ lap, “Fine baby bro. I’m just trying to lookie lou, LOU get it???, after you! Don’t want my bro coming to my wedding without a date.” She says, pinching Harry’s still-red cheeks, “Can’t have you bringing one of your weird friends to my day of weddingness." 

Harry just rolls his eyes. “First of all, that is not a word, second of all, my friends aren’t weird!! You’re just too normal.”

“Fine fine H, whatever you say. Now let’s go before Casey pukes.” Gemma says, nodding towards a very green looking bridesmaid.

“Okay Gems, whatever you say, I’m your chaperone aren’t I?” Harry says, smiling bright.

It’s a great smile, in Louis’ opinion. There’s just a hint of a dimple in his left cheek, which Louis thinks might have been etched into his skin by Lucifer himself. It suddenly dawns on Louis that he doesn’t want this smile to leave. He wants to keep this smile, and the boy attached, for as long as he can.

It’s like Harry’s on the same wavelength because all of a sudden, his beautiful smile turns into a frown. He looks over to Louis, crestfallen, “Oh. So I guess it’s time for me to go then.” Harry looks so forlorn and there’s really nothing Louis wants more than to cuddle him into his arms and kiss his head until he’s sleepy and soft.

There’s an awkward silence then, Gemma nodding off where she’s leaning against Harry’s body and music abruptly turned off, Niall seemingly having noticed the party was ending.

Louis can’t stand the silence and can’t stand the way Harry’s eyes have suddenly lost all brightness to them. He really hopes he’s not reading it wrong when he decides that maybe, he shouldn’t be leaving this smile so soon.

“Or…” Louis starts, and Harry’s head pops up, brilliant grin back on his face. No dimple yet, but Louis’ hoping his offer will bring it back.  

“Yeah Lou?” Harry says eagerly. 

“Well. It seems like you might have your hands full with all these um, frankly these, drunk off their ass bridesmaids and from experience, handling just one drunk person yourself isn’t that easy.” He trails off, hoping Harry will get the hint at what he’s trying to ask. Of course he doesn’t, he’s clueless, still awaiting Louis’ next word with bated breath. “Well, I was just thinking. Since the party is over, that mean my shift is over too, so I thought you might need or want some help?” He finishes.

Harry’s smiling at him, but not really saying anything. It’s putting Louis on edge.

“You know. Because you’re so clumsy.” Louis continues, “I think if I let you go without an escort, you’d probably fall and break your pretty little neck.”

Harry’s laughing now, and Louis can see that the dimple is back in his left cheek. He really hopes that means Harry is going to take him up on his offer.

“I guess that might be a good idea.” Harry says slowly, beaming wider with each word he speaks. Louis has noticed that Harry talks incredibly slow, kind of like he’s honestly thinking about each word that’s coming out of his mouth, like each one needs to be just as meaningful as the last one. It’s nice. It makes Louis want to slow down a bit, maybe stop cussing so much. Harry’s basically the greatest human Louis’ ever met and in addition to wanting to get in his pants, he thinks he could take a lesson on being a better human being from him.

Louis’ inner-monologue of Harry worship is interrupted by the boy himself, “I might need a big strong man to protect me from all these drunk ladies.” He winks, “I’m sure that’s the only reason you’re offering.”

Louis is pretty sure they both have a pretty concrete understanding of just what Louis’ offer means but Louis’ never really been that subtle.

“Well yes Harry, I want to protect you from these scary, penis-wielding females.” Louis says, “But I’m also quite certain I don’t want this night to end so soon. And I’m also certain I don’t want to stop hanging out with you. If you’re not opposed to that, of course.”

Harry is beaming again, possibly even wider than he was before. Louis thinks he looks like the Cheshire Cat, which is funny because Harry mentioned he was from Cheshire and also how much he likes warm milk so it’s kind of fitting.

“I’m definitely, definitely not opposed to that Louis.” Harry says, inching closer to Louis, Gemma still hanging off his arm.

“In fact, I think if you hadn’t offered to come along, I would’ve invited you anyway.” Harry says, even closer now. He’s looking down at Louis, piercing green eyes flitting from Louis’ eyes down to his lips, seemingly unable to pick where they should end up.

“Is that so?” Louis’ says, voice at whisper-level and wavering just slightly.

He can feel Harry lean in before he sees it, one stray curl tickling his temple just as Harry begins to inch closer. Louis is so so so okay with this.

Harry’s close now.

The moment is suddenly broken when a loud, “Excuse me?,” comes from Harry’s side, Gemma awake now, and in a drunken stupor.

Harry and Louis jump apart, cheeks red and blood racing. Louis knows what was going to happen. Can feel the ghost-like touch of Harry’s lips against his own, can still smell the whiff of peach and vanilla from Harry’s hair.

He wants more. He wants it so bad.

“Yo. Lovebirds. Let’s go home. Now. You’re making me miss my own boy.” She’s grumbling a bit by now, really fed up with being made to wait. 

“Yeah yeah of course Gemma, let’s get going.” Harry says, clearing his throat and going back to the perfect brother role, but not before winking at Louis naughtily.

“Let me just grab my stuff and I’ll meet you outside.” Louis says, struggling to catch his breath.

Harry’s already halfway to the exit by the time Louis runs up the stairs to the booth and to Niall.

He takes a minute, halfway up the stairs, to catch his breath and think about the crazy night it’s been so far. If someone told Louis that he would come into work and meet the sweetest, fittest, nicest boy in the world and like, possibly have a chance with him, he’d of thought you were crazy.

By the time he gets up to where Niall’s turning off all the equipment, he thinks he might have figured out the solution to the problem of his little spontaneous decision to leave work with still all the clean-up and closing up left do to.

“Ah! There you are! Niall. Love of my life. Most gorgeous Irishman I’ve ever met. Best coworker I’ve ever had!”

“What do you want Louis?” Niall grumbles, reaching to turn off the lights in the booth.

They both grab their things and make their way back down the stairs.

“So you know that boy?” Louis asks, “The cute one. With the curly hair and the scarf in his hair?” 

Niall’s eyes light up in understanding, “Ah yes, the surprise I left you. The dude who kept falling on his ass.”

“Yes yes yes that’s him Niall.”

“What do you want?”

“Well, I maybe, sort-of offered to help him take all the bridesmaids home so I was maybe, sort-of hoping you might close without me?” Louis asks, plastering on the biggest smile he can manage.

Niall looks mildly exasperated at Louis’ plea.

“I’ll let you bring Zayn to work next late shift, and I’ll even pretend not to notice when you sneak off to the bathroom together.”

Louis knows he’s hooked him when Niall begins to smile.

He claps Louis on the shoulder at the offer, “Atta boy Tommo. Knew you’d come around to the whole monogamy thing.”

Louis shirks Niall’s hand off his shoulder.

“I was never opposed to the whole monogamy thing, it’s just I hadn’t found the right person.”

“Ohhh I see. So Curly McScarf here might be the one for you? The future Mr. Tomlinson? Father of your babies and love of your life?”

“Shut up Ni.”

It’s then when the man himself, Curly McScarf as Niall dubbed him, popped back into the building, looking frazzled and lost.

“You better go Lou. Looks like the hubby is calling.” Niall says, clapping Louis on the shoulder and whispering ‘good luck’ into his ear before pushing him towards where Harry was standing. Louis follows Harry outside to where a stretch limo is parked, almost too long for the parking lot. It makes Louis giggle thinking about Harry actually driving that thing.

One they’ve rounded up all the bridesmaids and made sure all arms and legs and penises, both plastic and real, are inside; they drive off.

The journey is nice. Harry is equally as charming and sweet as he was at the rink and Louis is finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to just plant a big ole smackaroo on him while he’s driving.

At one point, in the middle of Louis’ telling a very raucous story about Niall’s obsession with pasta, of which Louis thinks is gosh darn funny, he feels a hand slide onto his knee. It’s hard for Louis to tell the story with the same amount of enthusiasm after that, voice a little shaky from where Harry’s caressing his thigh. It’s all completely innocent of course, Harry’s smiling away at his story, giggling at all the right times. Louis thinks it was just instinct, just Harry’s tactile nature; nonetheless, the action makes all the blood rush to his crotch, already so keyed up from their last moment alone.

By the time they drop off all of Gemma’s friends, and Gemma herself back home same with her fiancé, it’s nearing 2 a.m. Louis can see Harry’s eyes drooping from where he sits in the passenger seat. It’s cute really, how Harry keeps trying to hide his yawns from Louis; putting his hand in front of his face, or passing it off as a cough. Louis suspects, hopefully, that Harry doesn’t want the night to end just yet. Louis feels the same way.

When they finally roll to a stop outside Louis’ flat, parking in a thankfully big enough area for a limo, Louis actually wishes there were a few more bridesmaids back there, still needing a drive home.

Harry puts the limo in park and shuts off the engine.

There’s a few awkward moments in the car; where Louis is contemplating his next move, one that hopefully involves keeping Harry near him for as long as possible.Harry keeps fidgeting and clearing his throat, not really making eye contact with Louis.

It’s after what seems like an hour of tortuous silence that Louis finally finds his courage and speaks up.

“Well Harold, that was a fun night huh?” Louis asks after a breath.

Harry finally, mercifully makes eye contact with Louis and beams, “Yeah Lou. That was the best bachelorette party I’ve ever been to.” He’s smiling so wide that his dimples are popping out again and Louis is so charmed he wants to rip off his arm just to distract himself from the mind-numbing desire he’s feeling.

He doesn’t really know if he wants to tuck Harry into bed and kiss his forehead and cuddle all night or make him a trembling mess underneath him; see those green eyes go glassy and his perky nipples swollen under his tongue. He’s contemplating inviting Harry up to his flat just so he has an excuse to be near him for awhile longer. 

“Granted,” Harry continues, seemingly unaware of the inner struggle Louis is having right now, “It’s the only Bachelorette party I’ve ever been to, so there might be a better one out there next week or something.”

“That’s very true, maybe you should make friends with as many brides-to-be as you can, you’re certainly the life of the party.”

“I do love weddings,” Harry says through a yawn.

And really, that’s what seals the deal for Louis, because in good conscious he can’t just let Harry fall asleep at the wheel. He obviously needs some energy or caffeine.

“Say? Fancy a cuppa before you go?”




They walk up the stairs to Louis’ place slowly, a silence settling between them. It isn’t uncomfortable really, more relaxed and familiar, not really needing to talk.

Louis’ flat is on the fourth floor, at the end of the hall, and the walk to his door seems endless. Harry’s close behind him, hand on the small of his back.

Louis can barely open the door, fingers shaking as he tries to fit the key in the lock. He’s never, ever been this nervous around someone he wants to kiss before. Never really been physically shaken at the thought of just getting his hands on someone. He supposes it’s different with Harry. Everything about him had been different. Every conversation, every touch, every look. It was different this time.

He finally gets the key in the lock and opens the door, walking in and ushering Harry in behind him.

“So what kind of tea would you like?” Louis asks, turning his back to Harry as he locks the door, “I’ve got almost every flavor you could imagine.”

When Louis turns around, Harry isn’t waiting patiently for his tea. He isn’t wandering around Louis’ flat or looking at the pictures on the wall. No, he’s standing only a few feet away, legs bouncing up and down. His whole body is buzzing with energy, Louis can feel it from where’s standing by the door. His eyes are dark and hooded and he’s looking at Louis likes he wants to devour him and Louis is finding that he really doesn’t mind that.

It’s pretty apparent what Harry’s feeling, but Louis’ so nervous he can’t help but sputter out non-important words.

“So I guess no tea then?”

Harry shakes his head slowly as he stalks his way over to Louis. He’s only an inch away now, broad body looming over Louis. “No, I don’t think I’ll be wanting any tea right now.” He says, voice gruff; deeper than it’s already deep timbre. It sends a shiver through Louis’ body.

“So did you have a good night then?” Louis asks, unable to keep his voice from wavering. Harry has now dropped his hands to Louis’ waist; his warm hands fingering the end of Louis’ t-shirt, brushing against his hot skin. The touch is maddening and Louis wants more.

Harry nods, “Yeah Lou. Had a great night.” He’s walking Louis backwards now; pushing him up against the front door; body extremely close. He can feel the heat coming off Harry’s body and it makes his head spin. 

Louis can tell that Harry really doesn’t want to talk anymore; hands making their way up Louis’ torso, finally boxing him in against the door.

“Me too.” Louis whispers and that’s it.

He’s suddenly got soft, pink lips against his own; face caught in Harry’s enormous hands as their lips slide against one another desperately; hips flush against Harry’s. His lips are soft and wet against Louis’ and every few seconds Harry slides his teeth into the kiss; sending bursts of arousal down Louis’ body. It seems like ages that Louis has waited for Harry’s touch. It seems like days, not hours, that he’s waited to get his hands on his body; his lips on his neck. Now that he’s here; he never wants to leave.

He realizes quick enough that the moans he’s hearing are actually coming out of his own mouth and Harry must realize too because he then begins to work at Louis’ lips even faster. His hands are everywhere; thumbing at his hips, working themselves into Louis’ hair; squeezing at his bum. There is so much sensation, so much Harry and Louis is having trouble breathing.

Harry must sense that because he takes his sinful lips off Louis’ and attaches himself to the line of Louis’ neck that is especially sensitive. How Harry knows that this is the one spot that can make Louis literally collapse in pleasure is beyond him; all he knows is that he never wants to feel anything but the touch of Harry Styles

Harry punctuates each kiss against his neck with a bite of his teeth; hands moving everywhere along Louis’ body like he can’t get enough of Louis. It’s the most loved and appreciated Louis’ ever felt when he’s been with someone.

“Been wanting to do this all night, Lou, you have no idea.” Harry’s whispering against his neck, “I never want to stop touching you.”

Louis is grasping at Harry wherever he can, trying to get purchase on any and every bit of his skin. Harry’s words ring in his ear and he can barely eek out a “God, Harry yes,” in return.

Harry’s been fingering at the zipper of Louis’ pants for a few seconds now and Louis’ so turned on, so ready to get Harry beneath him.

“Bed.” Louis breathes out, “Now. Please.” Louis is so turned on he’s not even sure if the words coming out of his mouth are english but Harry must understand because all of a sudden he’s picking Louis up; hands strong on his bum; kneading into his flesh. He still hasn’t stopped his attack on Louis’ lips and neck and any other piece of skin he can get his mouth on, though.  

Somehow; whilst carrying and kissing Louis simultaneously, Harry finds his way to the bedroom, crashing into the room blindly, a protective hand against Louis’ back.

He’s gentle when he lays down onto the bed, cradling Louis’ head as they fall. It’s a stark difference from the way he had been bruising Louis’ lips and neck before.

As soon as Louis is down; Harry’s back on him, doubling his efforts. Louis is a squirming, fidgeting mess underneath the heavy, intoxicating weight of Harry.

“Off, off, off,” Louis breathes as their lips part, hands grasping at the bottom of Harry’s shirt.

Harry quickly complies; throwing his shirt off somewhere across Louis’ room.

The sight that beholds Louis is so much better than he expected. Harry’s body is insane; broad shoulders and abs that Louis’ desperately wants to lick. He’s got various tattoos littered across his arms and chest; and Louis wants to both lick across each one and hear Harry tell the story of each set of ink.

Louis is desperate to get his hands all across Harry’s body so he flips them over. Harry goes easy, letting Louis move him any way he wants. Louis fits himself on Harry’s hips easily; and as Harry spreads out underneath him; the sight is one he won’t soon forget.

Harry’s shirtless beneath him, chest is heaving and breath coming out in pants. Louis can feel the hard line of Harry’s cock from where he’s sitting on top of him and he has to stop himself from just reaching down to get his hand on Harry straight away.

He’s been staring at Harry for what must be too long because Harry’s whining beneath him and reaching out to touch Louis.

“Lou. You too.” Harry gasps, reaching to grab at Louis’ shirt, “Not fair. Wanna see you.”

Louis takes a deep breath and complies, throwing his shirt in the same vicinity as Harry’s.

“Come on Lou,” Harry says, thrusting his hips up to try and get the friction he so desperately wants, “Kiss me.”

Louis can’t really ignore a request like that so he ducks down to capture Harry’s lips with his own. Their tongues twist together seamlessly, like they were always meant to be this close; bodies in perfect harmony. The feeling of warm skin against warm skin is maddening and Louis can’t get enough. He feels like he’s going to burst out of his pants at any moment really.

Slowly, Louis detaches from Harry and trails his lips and tongue to Harry’s neck and down his torso, stopping to run his teeth against Harry’s nipples; eliciting the most delicious noises from his boy’s mouth.

Gradually, he works his way further down. He attaches his lips to where Harry’s incredibly tight jeans meet his stomach; happy trail fluttering as Harry takes in deep; shaky breaths. He’s so close to the place he wants to be; can feel how big and ready Harry is. He knows how difficult it is for Harry; who’s squirming beneath him, hands grasping the sheets of Louis’ bed; knuckles white.

Louis is certain that he could spend hours more just exploring Harry’s body; mouthing at warm skin, making him shiver. He loves the hard and soft of Harry’s body; hard abs and shoulders and soft hips and thighs. He knows he could spend hours on Harry, and would spend another hour just like this; on his stomach and kissing up Harry’s torso, but he’s not sure Harry could handle it.

He keeps emitting little breathy chants of Louis’ name and trying his best not to buck up to find friction. He must be so uncomfortable by now, his jeans so tight that Louis isn’t sure how he’s dealing.

He decides to take mercy after the 10th or so time he brushes past the bulge in Harry’s jeans; each time Harry struggling not to moan. He’s being so good though, not pushing for too much; letting Louis decide where this is going. It makes his head spin with what he and Harry could do together; with what Harry’s allowing.

It’s like all the air in Harry’s lungs leaves his body as Louis unbuttons and unzips Harry’s jeans, beginning to pull them down his legs.

Harry breathes out a quiet, ‘finally’ and Louis slaps his thigh in jest. Harry goes frozen at that, which reminds Louis he should probably keep that in the back of his mind if they do this again, when they do this again, Louis corrects himself.

He finally gets Harry’s pants off and releases his cock, hard and tented in his boxers; obviously turned on and frustrated. Louis’ mouth is watering at the sight. He leans down then, attaching his lips to Harry’s cock through his boxers; mouthing at it wetly.

“Fuck. Yes, Louis,” Harry groans, eyes drooping closed as he finally gets what he wants.

Louis mouths at Harry’s cock for another few minutes, getting the fabric wet, before he fits his thumbs in the waistband of Harry’s boxers and slowly brings them down his legs; cock springing out.

Louis props himself up on his knees after that; staring at where Harry’s laid out completely naked on his bed. There’s never been something this beautiful in Louis’ bed, the sight of Harry too much and not enough at the same time. He wants to take a picture of Harry like this; all splayed out and ready for him. There’s a blush growing from Harry’s cheeks down to his chest from Louis’ intense gaze but he doesn’t shy away. Louis loves how he’s so open for him; wants nothing more than to reward him for it.

His legs are long and lithe; attached to strong thighs. They looked small in those skintight jeans, but here, naked and spread for Louis, they’re strong and beautiful. He wants to bruise along the inside of his thighs, keep Harry reminded of his touch for days 

His cock is straining against his stomach now; head red and flushed, precome leaking more and more as each second passes. Louis runs his hands along Harry’s legs, from his feet to his thighs; stopping to duck down to mouth at the soft, pale skin of his thighs. It only takes a few kisses to his thigh to make Harry gasp and moan and buck up, looking for pressure against his cock.

“Stay still.” Louis says, voice deep. Harry immediately stops squirming, hands gripping at the sheets once again. “Good boy.” Another burst of precome after that.

“God Harry, you’re so fit,” Louis whispers, running his fingers past Harry’s hard cock and to his V-Line, “Can’t get enough of you.”

Harry’s past the point of talking it seems, just closes his eyes and nods at Louis’ voice. Louis works a bruise into each of Harry’s thighs after that; getting him wet and even harder.

Louis fixes one hand on Harry’s hip and brings the other around the bottom of Harry’s cock, getting a grip on it. Harry’s so, so hard; it looks painful. “This okay babe?”

Harry nods frantically, neck craning as he watches what Louis’ about to do.

“Mm. Good. Can’t wait to taste you.” Louis says. Harry whines. 

He runs his nose through the hair around Harry’s cock and then fits his mouth around the head of Harry’s cock.  He sucks around the wet head, tongue circling the slit over and over.

“Oh God. Louis. Yes. Fuck.” Harry’s chanting above him, eyes closed. It’s incredibly hot that he can make Harry just lose his composure like this.

Louis doubles his efforts, taking Harry’s cock farther into his mouth now, slowly running his tongue along the underside of Harry’s cock. He pulls off with a pop; keeping his other hand tight around Harry’s cock; stroking him up and down as he kisses along Harry’s soft skin. He kisses down to Harry’s balls; taking them into his mouth and sucking softly.

“Your fucking mouth, Louis” he groans, reaching down to grasp at Louis’ hair. It’s a soft grasp, nothing pushy, just a gentle touch so evident of how good Harry is. Louis meets Harry’s eyes then, who had been watching with a mix of desire and awe in his eyes; breath trembling as Louis worked his mouth back to Harry’s cock to take him in again.

This time, Louis’ not playing around, fitting his mouth around the entirety of Harry’s dick. He takes him in all the way; so deep that his nose is tickling at the hair around Harry’s cock. He pulls off again to catch his breath and then goes back down and doesn’t leave until Harry’s blabbering gibberish above him. Louis can tell he’s close by the way his stomach is convulsing and his thighs are trembling.

Louis pulls off so he can just lick at the head of Harry’s cock; working his tongue into the slit and lapping up Harry’s precome. He tightens his grip around the rest of Harry’s dick, working up and down the wet skin 

“Come on Harry,” Louis whispers, running his finger along the slit of Harry’s cock, “Come for me.” 

It only takes another few suckles at the head of Harry’s cock and a finger teasing along his arse and Harry’s whimpering out a feeble, “Coming, Lou.” before he’s doing just that, coming in thick white spurts onto his stomach. Louis strokes Harry through his orgasm before the sensation becomes too much and Louis slides his way up Harry’s body and fits himself to Harry’s side; kissing behind his ear and running a finger around his nipple softly. 

Harry has barely come down from his own high before he’s gasping something out to Louis, “Please Louis. Fuck me.”

Louis’ body goes taut in arousal. Harry’s still working through his orgasm, breaths still haven’t slowed, yet here he is, asking Louis to fuck him.

“Are you… fuck.. Harry are you sure?” Louis asks with a whisper.

“Yeah Louis. Fuck. Want you inside me,” He moans, “Make me come again.”

Louis is stuck still until a whimpered, “please” comes from Harry’s mouth and then he’s moving fast, reaching across Harry’s body into his bedside table to grab out a condom and lube.

Harry watches patiently, bottom lip stuck between his teeth; red and wet and almost bleeding.

“Harry. Are you sure?” Louis asks again, already knowing the answer. Harry’s miraculously hard again and the sight is blinding Louis. 

Harry nods frantically, “Yeah Lous, I’m sure. Now come on, get naked.”

Louis does so quickly, tugging his jeans and boxers off as fast as he can, desperate to get his hands back on Harry and desperate to do whatever Harry wants him to.

It should be unnerving, kneeling naked in front of the fittest boy he’s ever seen, his entire body, flaws and all, all open to be seen. It should start to make him sweat and blush but with Harry’s gaze; it’s not so intimidating. He’s never seen anyone he’s ever been with look at his body and in his eyes the way that Harry does. It makes him shiver with pride and affection and something else entirely; something he knows it’s way too early for but can’t help but feel anyways.

“Oh my god Louis.” Harry gasps, sitting up, “You’re so fucking fit.” He reaches out and runs his hands across Louis’ torso, kissing up and down and suckling at each nipple.

All of a sudden Harry has ducked down and taken Louis’ entire cock in his mouth and is sucking with fervor, moaning and humming around him, wet and warm. The pressure is amazing, and Harry is enthusiastic, unwilling to be anything but the best at all he does, blowjobs included. Louis gets lost in the feeling of Harry's mouth, and after a few minutes he knows that if Harry goes on any longer, he’ll be coming. He has to physically remove Harry from his cock then, pulling him up and kissing him hard.

“Heyyyy. Why’d you do that?” Harry asks, frowning.

“You’re absolutely amazing,” Louis breathes, kissing Harry again, this time tasting himself in Harry’s mouth, “But If you keep doing that I’m going to come and I’ve got plans for us tonight.”

“Right.” Harry smirks, “Take it away then!”

He falls back down to the bed, splaying his legs wide and biting his lip sinfully. Louis’ has to take a few deep breaths and grip the bottom of his cock to keep from coming at the sight of Harry all laid out and open for him, the feel of his tongue still on his mind.

“Good boy,” Louis praises as he reaches for the lube, “Look so good all spread out here for me. 

“Lift your legs up for me, babe,” Louis orders. Harry complies quickly, propping his legs up on Louis’ shoulders. His flexibility is apparent, and it makes Louis shiver with adoration and arousal.

Louis runs a hand across Harry’s thighs and stops at the flesh of his ass, kneading into it, making Harry moan.

“You are so good, Harry” Louis coos, reaching for the lube, quickly squeezing some out and warming it up between his fingers. “You ready?”

Louis waits for Harry’s nod of agreement before he traces one of his lubed fingers around Harry’s hole, teasing at the edge with his fingernail. Without warning, he drops down and licks a flat stripe across Harry’s hole, making Harry seize up and almost scream. Louis licks messily across Harry’s arse, working his tongue into Harry and circling the rim over and over until Harry’s cock is straining against his stomach. 

He pulls off quickly, knowing he’d probably keep going until Harry came for the second time, wanting to chase the taste of Harry all night. He has other plans for Harry’s arse, though.

“You taste so good, you know that right?” Louis says, replacing his tongue with a finger once again; circling the rim in back and forth motions that make Harry’s eyes roll back in his head.

“God. Louis you’re so.” Harry says, trailing off as Louis unexpectedly fits the first finger inside Harry. Harry shuts his mouth and groans at that. Louis giggles, “I’m so what, Harry?”

“When you like, say things like that,” Harry pants, “Or do something like this, you’re just making me feel so good and so beautiful. You’re so everyting and so much.”

Louis kisses at Harry’s hip quickly, unable to speak after Harry’s declaration; heart pounding in his chest. It’s crazy how quickly he has fallen for this boy, who he had only hours ago giggled at for falling at a roller rink. It feels like all too much right now. Too much boy, too much of something bubbling in his chest that sounds a lot like love.

Louis quickly pushes it to the back of his mind, unable to deal with such intense feelings when he’s already got a finger in Harry’s ass. It’s time to deal with that.

Louis gets to work now, focusing all his attention on getting Harry ready; on making him feel good. Slowly, he pushes the entirety of his finger inside, waiting until Harry’s comfortable before moving it inside him; trying desperately to find the spot that he knows will make Harry flush a perfect shade of red and moan in pleasure. Louis maneuvers another finger in, and crooks it inside Harry; making him cry out and arch against the bed, legs taut where they lay on Louis’ shoulders. Louis’ got a bit of a rhythm now, Harry accustomed to the feeling of fingers inside him. He’s pushing inside Harry steadily now, thrusting inside him repeatedly.

Harry whines as Louis finally finds his prostate. Once he’s found it, Louis doesn’t relent; fingers massaging the spot over and over until Harry’s sobbing. 

He’s letting out little whimpers of Louis name, followed by “more, please” and Louis’ never one to disappoint so he adds another finger along side the two already rubbing against Harry’s prostate, stretching him further. He crooks his fingers so that they’re exactly where Harry needs them to be and then drops his head down to lick alongside his fingers. 

Louis’ pushing his tongue inside Harry alongside his fingers, messy and wet, when Harry finally speaks.

“I’m ready, fuck, Louis I’m ready.” Harry moans, “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

“You sure baby?” Louis asks, crawling over Harry, arms bracketing his shoulders as he looks down on him. Harry reaches a hand up and cups Louis’ cheek and reaches up to kiss him once on the lips; soft and lingering. It’s oddly intimate and chaste for this moment; when Louis’ fingers were just deep in Harry’s ass but it’s perfect, bringing Louis down to earth as he sinks into the kiss. It’s exactly like Harry, he thinks, soft and lovely and so open. He wants to spend the rest of his days here; above Harry and letting him have whatever he wants.

Louis pulls away, dropping another kiss to the side of Harry’s lips, hand twirling in Harry’s long hair. The scarf in his hair has long since fallen out, just long brown hair curly and soft between his fingers. It’s splayed on the pillow in a halo around his head.

Louis’ still leaning over harry’s body when Harry whispers softly, “M’ready Lou. All ready for you.”

Louis blows out a shaky breath, moving Harry’s legs off his shoulders so that they fall open in front of him. Harry reaches down to fit a condom on Louis and slick him up with lube and then he’s laying back down, waiting for Louis; hands gripping at Louis’ hips.

Louis strokes over himself a few more times before he’s lining up at Harry’s entrance, hands shaking, nervous despite knowing this is exactly what he and Harry had been wanting and waiting for all night. He guides his cock towards Harry’s hole, lining up perfectly, head of his cock nudging at Harry’s rim. He chances a look at Harry, who nods once and that’s all Louis needs before he’s pushing into Harry slowly.

The pressure is amazing, Harry warm and tight around him. Harry lets out a breath he must have been holding for awhile as Louis bottoms out. It feels so good and Louis has to stop himself from rutting into Harry; unwilling to make this anything but perfect for this perfect boy beneath him. He kisses Harry once, twice, and then a third lingering time before Harry’s nodding at him that he’s ready. Louis slowly pulls out and then pushes back in, slow at first, Harry’s arms wrapping around his back tightly; searching for the best friction he can get.

Harry’s lips are swollen from where he’s got his lips stuck between his teeth and he’s panting desperately with each of Louis’ thrusts. “Faster Lou, please.”

Louis listens, thrusting faster into Harry, bodies sliding against each other with ease. He can feel Harry’s cock sliding against his stomach; precome sticking to him as Harry whines and moans. He knows he’s finally hit that spot inside Harry when Harry’s head jerks backwards against the pillow; hands dropping from Louis’ hip to grasp the sheets. He’s really moaning now, a litany of Louis’ name and ‘more’ and ‘yes’ falling from his mouth. Louis chases the sounds, pushing into Harry at the same angle, wanting everything to be so good for him. He’s moaning above Harry too; and he knows they’re both so close, Harry’s having been worked up for ages now. Louis reaches up to thread a hand through Harry’s hair and kisses at his lips messily; their teeth sliding against each other with the speed of Louis’ thrusts. Harry doesn’t seem to mind though, only pushing up to meet Louis with the same vigor.

Louis kisses down his body and attaches his lips to Harry’s nipples’, hand reaching down to curl around Harry’s cock. He strokes him in time with his thrusts and he knows Harry’s about to come.

It only takes a few more enthusiastic thrusts from Louis and the feel of Louis’ finger against Harry’s slit before Harry’s coming on his stomach; body seizing as he moans out Louis’ name loudly. He comes for ages and the sight makes Louis work harder to catch his own orgasm. He’s been close for what seems like ages, so worked up from touching Harry and tasting Harry and being near Harry so it only takes another few thrusts of his own before he’s coming in the condom and stuttering out a few moans of Harry’s name.

They come down slowly, chests heaving and movements sluggish. Louis slides out of Harry slowly, pulling off the condom and tossing it into the abyss of clothes and junk in his room and then slides up Harry’s body, slotting himself against Harry’s side. He drops his chin to Harry’s chest and watches his heaving pecs and stuttered breaths finally slow.

“You look so pretty when you come,” Louis whispers, as Harry finally settles down.

Harry’s got his eyes closed, but they pop open at that. “You’re so amazing you know that right?” He asks, squeezing Louis tighter into his side and kissing him softly. He’s smiling into the kiss, dimple popping out adorably. “Can’t believe this just happened.”

It’s almost a perfect moment, only intensified by Harry quietly whispering a “Can I stay tonight?” in Louis’ ear. He’s blushing as he says that, face hidden in the crook of Louis’ neck.

“Of course, love,” Louis whispers back, dropping his hand to rub at Harry’s hip, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Harry sighs happily after that, wrapping his arms around Louis’ body and snuggling against his chest. Louis pulls his comforter up and tucks Harry against his body, kissing his shoulder once, then behind his ear, and finally, bringing a finger to his chin and kissing softly against his lips. 

“Night Harry.” Louis whispers, but Harry’s already fallen asleep; puffing out soft breaths and exhales, fingers curled tightly against Louis’ hip.


Upon waking up, Louis is confused. He’s hot and there’s something plastered on his body, radiating heat and warmth. He can’t say that he minds, especially since the body against him is very very fit and seems to be kind of attached to him.

He then sees a mess of curly hair and everything comes back to him in flashes. Last night at the roller rink, meeting Harry, coming back to the flat and then their night together, bodies in sync all night. 

Louis has never been happier to wake up. It’s almost as good as waking up on Christmas day, he thinks, having Harry by his side. And he knows that it’s only been a day but this is special. This is different. He knows that. Louis knows this is right.

He can only hope that Harry will feel the same way this morning as he did last night.

He watches Harry sleep for a bit, feeling all too creepy but not really caring; especially because Harry sleeping is no doubt the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He’s curled his body against Louis’, allowing no space between them, and he’s puffing out warm breaths against Louis’ chest. His nose wrinkles every few minutes, and his fingers are curled on Louis’ hip in the same way they were last night.

Louis notices a few freckles hidden at Harry’s hairline and the fact that he’s got a little curl behind his ear, extra corkscrewed and coiled. It’s all way too cute.

Louis feels, rather than sees, Harry waking up. His legs start to fidget under the covers; where they’re curled in between Louis’ and his fingers start to clench and unclench against Louis’ skin. It’s then that Harry’s face starts to wrinkle up as it fights to stay asleep; eyebrows crinkling adorably. Harry’s mouth is alternating between little, tiny groans of disapproval at the morning and smacking little movements that are equally as hilarious as they are cute; much to Louis’ amusement.

Louis’ caught in between a giggle and coo when Harry actually opens his eyes.

They’re opening slowly, body responding to being awake by stretching alongside Louis. Harry’s gaze moves slowly up to Louis’ face from where he’s still laid across Louis’ chest; meeting Louis’ blue eyes with his own, twinkling with happiness. 

Louis is sure he’s never seen something or someone look as beautiful as Harry Styles does when he wakes up.

Harry can tell that Louis’ been staring at him for a bit because he blushes beautifully, avoiding eye contact and snuggling back into Louis’ chest; arms tightening back around Louis.

“Morning Harry,” Louis says, dropping a kiss to Harry’s curls, “You sleep okay?”

“Slept amazing.” Harry yawns, “Best night of sleep I’ve had in awhile.”

Harry’s words make Louis grin with pride. 

“Hmm really?” Louis says, voice full with amusement, “I don’t suppose I had anything to do with that? Maybe a little bit of help with wearing you out? 

Louis can feel the warmth of Harry’s blush on his chest. He pops his head up though, not really that embarrassed, “Think you had the biggest part in making last night great.” He says shyly, kissing the side of Louis’ mouth hurriedly.

Louis is charmed. Harry is sweet and shy and filthy and fits perfectly against his side and perfectly in his life.

It’s perfect, this moment. The sun is up and shining through the curtains, birds chirping quietly as the morning begins, and there’s a boy on Louis’ side; soft and sweet and cuddly. A boy who he thinks could be the one. He’s never felt this content in his life and can’t believe all of it came out of a night at work where he thought absolutely nothing spectacular would happen. Funny how one night changes your whole perspective. 

“Hey Lou?” Harry asks later, both in and out of sleep; content to cuddle and doze.


“Guess we really did fall for each other, huh?” 

Louis has to let that sink in for a moment before he’s groaning at Harry’s horrible joke.

“Harry! That was absolutely terrible.”

Harry’s giggling wildly at his side and Louis can’t help but join in; laughing at his boy and how incredibly cheesy he is. He supposes that’s part of the reason he fell so hard, literally, for Harry.

It’s a perfect morning, with Harry Styles still giggling uncontrollably at his own joke; snuggled into Louis’ chest.

Louis doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.