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Satyriasis

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The rays of sunlight were bursting through the foggy crestfallen atmosphere and the heavy clouds of a rainy morning, and Harry was already tired of this weather. Looking down at his own bare feet, he regrets not putting some socks on last night before he fell asleep, but he was too tired to do so and his brain couldn't follow his needs because it was no longer working. He watches the skin on that area bristle, causing shivers through his entire body that made him jolt his torso suddenly. So he decides to stand up and go looking around for something to warm up his legs and feet, since he was only wearing a pair of baby blue panties from his waist down. He almost jumps his steps due to the cold pavement, but still manages to get to his bedside table and take the first pair of panties he sees.

He sits back down again on the edge of his bed to slide them on. As he gets to the left upper leg his eyes veer to his dark-wood bedside table again, but this time gazing the bottom drawer - his panties drawer. Yes, he had a drawer for all his panties and he absolutely loved it; panties are his favorite thing to wear, ever. He owned all types of them: red, pastel, black, pink, cotton, lace, sheer, silk, basic, nautical patterns, striped and even ones with little teddy bears on it. He'd always get himself a new pair whenever there was a special occasion, such as his birthday or the holidays, so he might be guilty of owning a pair of Christmas panties or two.... and maybe ones with a bunny eating a carrot too. He thinks about all the things he's done while wearing them, all the places he's gone, all the moments he's lived. It's just like women's cliche obsession with shoes; they both make them feel confident, happy and, somehow, brand new.

It used to be so different a couple of years ago. He would never, ever, imagine himself possessing a single pair of panties, let alone adoring such unmasculine thing. Even though he was still a teenager and even had a boyfriend, he was never the "typical gay boy", let's call it that. But things had changed and he had found himself like a baby looking at his reflection in the mirror for the first time - he knew what he was and just how every single feature of himself really looked like, and he would never dare going back to such dark state again.

His sister calls him from the other side of the door and he hurries himself to fix his messy of a curly head, only putting his skinny jeans on because he liked to feel the cold breeze of the morning on his bare chest. With a yawn of someone who just had a few more hours of sleep than necessary, he makes his way down to the kitchen to have his long awaited breakfast, as his stomach had been calling for food for a while.

"Good morning", he utters in his usual groggy voice once he bursts through the door. Gemma was drinking her coffee on the table when Harry gets behind her to kiss her cheek.

"Mom got off to work already, that means I'm gonna have to drive you. So don't take too long with your morning routine."

"Hey!" Harry says indignantly while he shoves all the greens into the blender. "They actually have some great tips, for your information."

"Yeah, like how to wake up with the sun shinning through your window and a face full of no makeup make up on..." She fights back in pure sarcasm and Harry just makes what his lovely sister calls as the froggy face, where he gazes intensely with his lips hidden in a thin line and dimples showing off.

"Offended much? Maybe you could become a youtuber yourself and show the world your perfect shirtless morning. I could even join you so that all those girls could ship us, even though we're siblings." Gemma smiles back at him in fake excitement and his eyes momentarily lighten up before he realizes she was in fact joking.

"Never mind."

Harry finishes his smoothie in silence and heads back upstairs to finish getting ready before he has Gemma shouting his name again. He walks into the bathroom and he's surprised that he hadn't gotten a boner in his sleep, which meant less things he needed to worry about. With his teeth brushed and his face freshly washed, Harry takes his foundation and applies it evenly on the pale skin to conceal any spots and smooth it out. He never goes for anything more than foundation on his face, because his cheeks usually do the blushing for him.

When he goes back to slip his white lace button-up and converse of the same color on he gets lost in time when he catches his figure on the tall, slim mirror next to his dresser. He felt confident and his self-esteem was only getting better, and that was a big step for the boy who used to hide all of his curves behind ordinary baggy clothes just to fit in and not being called something as pejorative as 'faggot' or 'girl'. Concerning the 'girl' part, he had learned to embrace who he truly was and his sense of style, which was a bit feminine but it's what really made him feel comfortable, if he was honest. Regarding the 'faggot' part, well, everyone already knew that he had no interest in females whatsoever. Not to mention that he had probably sucked nearly half of the cocks in his high school and no one to this date had ever complained.

Once his long-sleeve button-up is properly tucked in his baby blue skinny jeans, Harry grabs his long grey cardigan and satchel from the hanger and, after taking one last look in the mirror to see if he's looking okay and his hair hadn't suddenly taken any weird forms, he is out of the door.

 

Harry's phone buzzes in the middle of his first class, signaling that he received a message. He looks down to see if it was important because, for a change, he was actually quite interested in what his History teacher was reading. Or maybe in the way Mr. Harding's tongue rubbed on his lip every time he paused to turn the page. The name 'Ricky' was read in the big screen and he doesn't even hesitate to open the message his boyfriend had just sent him.

Ricky: How are you feeling this morning? Wanna get out of class and come blow me? ;) ;)

Harry smirks down at the words. It's true that he hadn't gotten himself off this morning like he usually did, but he couldn't just excuse himself to the bathroom every time his boyfriend wanted his dick sucked. He needed a little more stimulation, besides the prize that his cock itself already was.

Harry: What do I get in return? I'm actually enjoying this class :)

He replies and turns his head back to his teacher - who he might have sucked once or twice - because, damn, he was quite something. Liam next to him, however, was too focused on the board to even notice what was going on around him. But Harry's jeans were tightening by the second and he had already crossed his legs to hide his boner just from the thought of that hot teacher fucking him on the desk.

His phone is heard again and he looks back down, all flustered from his inconveniently dirty mind.

Ricky: Well, I can put my dick to a good use and fuck your arsehole afterwards. How does that sound? ;) ;)

Now he got him.

Harry: Way more interesting than this dumb poem.

Ricky: Cool. Meet me in the bathroom.

Harry bites his lower lip and excuses himself to the bathroom - something that his teacher never forbid him to ever since Harry's plump lips touched his dick - making sure Mr. Harding had seen the bulge in his pants. Ricky is waiting for him when he gets there, sitting on the sink with a grin plastered on his face. Harry locks the door, just in case, and kneels down before him, hurrying not to take too long.

"Can't resist a good cock, can you?" Ricky says, but Harry doesn't even bother saying a word, way too busy unzipping his jeans.

After allowing him to come in his mouth, Harry refuses to get fucked bareback, since Ricky hadn't brought a condom with him. He always played it safe and, if he was honest, Ricky wasn't the most trustworthy person in the world and Harry knew damn well how he liked to fuck around with older guys. Also, he never imagined giving himself to someone in such deep, loving way; trusting another soul more than your own. Not that he was afraid, but he hadn't met anyone who made him feel that sure and... safe. He had a very strong sexual appetite that needed to be satisfied, that's the way he was, but it was never much more than that. Not even with Ricky.

Five minutes later Harry is wiping his mouth and Ricky's tummy off with toilet paper. He hadn't said a word the entire time and it was getting on Ricky's nerves, because he always "moaned like a slut". Ricky slaps his hand away from his chest and Harry looks at him with a straight face.

"What's wrong now?" Ricky asks in a higher tone than it'd be appropriate, the angry side of him slipping out through his mouth. Harry looks down to button up his shirt, avoiding his eyes.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Come here, then." Ricky grips his wrists from the white shirt he kind of disliked, pulling Harry back closer to him. He lets go of one of his wrists and starts massaging Harry's covered bulge with his free hand in circular motions, trying to make Harry let go and finish himself off. Soon enough his hands are diving under the silk panties and Harry starts slightly moaning to the pleasurable feeling of having his cock touched, but doesn't fully give himself to Ricky. It's a strange feeling, but he just can't do it. He could never do it all this time. So he backs away once more, as he fixes his pants right back into place, receiving a look of mixed disbelief and frustration from Ricky. "You said you wanted me to fuck you and now you won't let me?! For fuck's sake! What's wrong with you?!"

Harry always ran away whenever someone talked to him like that, as if he was a freak. He was just too sensitive, he couldn't help it though.

"I'm sorry" is all Harry can say before he backs off again. This time Ricky doesn't even bother reaching out for him, he just let's him do as he wishes.

"Aren't you gonna finish yourself off at least?" He asks, but Harry has already unlocked the door and left him there with his pants around his ankles.

 

When Harry gets home that day he locks himself in his room, trying to figure out what was wrong with him and why Ricky had been such a jerk earlier. He thought Ricky was probably tired of him, but it was him who had pushed him away. He would never tell him, but he didn't feel the connection he always did when they were together this time. They had been doing this for over an year, there was no reason to explain it other than the fact that the flame was probably dying. And what scared him was that he seemed not to worry about it when he should, because he still loved him... Right?

Harry pushes his thoughts to the back of his head as he decides not to think about it. He was probably just overthinking the whole situation and this was nothing but a bitter day, he thought. So he decides to grab his laptop and do what he knew best, since he was still sexually frustrated with himself for not feeling like getting fucked in the ass - which had never happened before. He turns on the camera as soon as the webpage loads and positions his MacBook on the edge of his bed, quickly undressing to his white panties. The views speed up as soon as Harry takes his semi-hard cock out after rubbing it with his hand through the fabric a couple of times. He never failed to smirk whenever it happened and he was proud that he'd found such a clever way to deal with his problem, because it also made other people feel good.

As soon as he starts leaking he takes his pink dildo from the nightstand and fucks himself dry until he comes, his arse fully exposed to the small camera and face buried in the sheets. He only gets up to look at the people - because you never know if there aren't any females on these kind of websites - commenting nonstop. There were a lot of comments and they only made him more and more happy and confident about showing his naked body to a camera for anyone to see. He also knew some guys from his school were avid subscribers and he was even complimented on his livestreams on private once - and he actually ended up giving him head in return.

He definitely didn't want to be a youtuber when he could be a camboy.

Chapter Text

 

                                                              

 

Three things Harry didn't expect waking up to the next day:

1- A message from Ricky apologizing and inviting him out later that night;

2 - His sister saying that they needed to talk;

3 - A huge boner from the dream he had just woken up from.

He doesn't even feel like touching himself, fearing what the conversation might be about. But he is just so achingly hard against his cotton panties that he just can't help himself.

His bedroom door is usually left locked, in case he's just too sleepy or tired to climb out of bed to go lock it up so he can masturbate or do a live-stream. But this time it wasn't, so he hurries to his en-suite and locks himself inside. As he starts wanking himself with steady movements of his hand, Harry can't help but feel weird and somehow guilty as he pleasures himself, because the tone of Gemma's voice when she said they had to talk was too serious for it to be something along the lines of "You have to start doing the dishes more often" or "Your grades are going down, you need to focus more on school."

In the other hand, Ricky's message left him quite torn. He knew all along that Ricky wasn't capable of developing feelings towards someone any further than this, and Harry couldn't complain because his relations always consisted on sucking a guy off a couple of times and that was it. But Ricky was his boyfriend and, besides it not making justice to such term, he still wanted to have feelings for him, have a proper relationship.

Despite his lascivious temperament, he still wanted those so talked about feelings, that warmth of knowing you mean more to that one person that they do. Probably that only happened in movies and those cheesy novels everyone seemed to love and overrate, but he still believed it could happen to him someday, somehow. People only usually saw the pervert side of him, the promiscuous male slut , but what no one knew was how of a hopeful romantic he was deep inside.

As soon as the pearly white liquid starts squirting from his slit, Harry rushes to clean himself and proceed with his routine. He was a tad late, which meant he wouldn't need to engage in further conversations with his sister besides the usual "Good morning" when he walked into the kitchen to drink his energizing smoothie.

Ricky was picking him up like a proper boyfriend, waiting in his Mini Cooper outside at eight o'clock sharp, just like he promised. Harry smiles when he sees him, windows rolled down and some upbeat rock song blaring through the speakers while Ricky nods his head at the beat and smirks back at the curly boy. He gets in in a second, slightly cringing at the loudness inside the car.

"Hey" Harry greets, fastening the seat belt around his waist as he feels the car move from its previous state of inertia.

They remain silent for a minute or two, the clatter of the motor from the reckless speed filling their ears. Ricky takes his eyes off the road for a moment, glancing at Harry with an arched eyebrow. "Did you touch yourself already?"

Harry's cheeks fluster a little at the question. "Yeah" he shrugs, secretly thanking himself for doing it earlier so they wouldn't have to be late for their first class. He always had to get off in the morning, as it was usually a very critical time of the day, or else the urge would come in the middle of his class and he'd have to touch himself right then and there. Not that he would actually mind, but the chances of getting expelled were enough to get such depraved thought off his mind. "My mom and Gemma want to talk to me after school." Harry states, "It seemed serious, so I'm not really sure I can go out later", Harry tells him and watches as Ricky's expression sadden a bit.

"Do you think you're gonna be grounded?" Ricky asks confused as he drives them to school. He doesn't even give Harry time to answer before he starts accusing him. "What have you done this time?"

"N-nothing!" Harry raises his usually low voice, rather offended. "I... guess". He tones down, now thinking Ricky was probably right and he actually must have done something wrong.

He hears what it seems to be a scoff coming from Ricky, though he wasn't a hundred percent sure. Meanwhile they arrive to their destination and Harry hadn't even realize it, too busy taking care of his confused state of mind. Ricky drives through the parking lot, looking for an empty spot.

"Okay, whatever. Leave me a message if you can make it".

Harry pulls his satchel from the floor, appending it to his shoulder as he opens the door and makes his way out. He closes it with a thud and braces himself for one more school day, turning his back and walking towards the building. The next thing he felt was Ricky haling him against the car, his head nearly colliding with the hard metal if it wasn't for his height. He could feel the stare of the few people in the area heaving his movements, and now his heart was beating from his throat, shaky hands trying to push him away. Ricky had always been more on the aggressive side, but he was getting scarier day by day, narrowly violent.

"You forgot my kiss" He speaks up, raising one hand from Harry's waist to his chin, making him stare back at him in the eyes.

"I'm-" Harry tries to apologize, afraid of what might happen if he didn't, but he's cut off when Ricky plunges his mouth to his own, kissing him sloppy and desperately.

Harry doesn't correspond to the kiss, dead between the car and Ricky's unyielding body as he feels like he's being violated right before the public eye. Ricky's tongue was invading his mouth, rubbing against Harry's motionless muscle in an attempt to a proper french kiss. He was exerting so much force into Harry that his noses bumped against each other and his skin seemed like it was going to be ripped off his body by Ricky's fingers.

Gladly, he's released after a while, speechless and sick to his stomach. Ricky backs off then, a stupid smirk plastered on his face as he turns his back to Harry, who was staggered. "See you later, slut" he pimps and walks away, hands in his pockets as if nothing had just happened. And, as in cue, the bell goes off in that exact moment.

Harry looks around and every-fucking-one is looking at him after the show Ricky had just put on for them, some people amused, some sending rather condescending stares his way. He just shrugs - cause he knows both girls and guys know he gets more dick in a week then they probably will in their lifetime - walking right past them with the same careless attitude as Ricky, quelling the fact that he could literally throw up at any moment.

 

Harry finds himself running to the loo right after the first period is over, Liam following right after him with a concerned look on his face. In a hurry, they make their way through the massive crowd that filled the hallway, lockers lined up and students scattered in everybody's way. They manage to slide past the crowd and make the turn to the bathrooms, and then Harry's pushing the boys' bathroom door open, not bothering to check if Liam was still behind him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Liam makes himself heard while Harry keeps running from him, heading towards the sinks. "Talk to me" he insists, ignoring the few people in the room that were giving them weird looks.

Liam watches in the distance as Harry turns one of the faucets on and immediately dives his head under the running water, his hair slowly getting soaked. He walks over to him, "Did Ricky do something?" he tries to guess. Once he had no response, he tries again. "Was it some other guy?"

"No," Harry utters from under the water. He then raises his head back up again, shutting the water closed in the process. "I just fucked up, that's all". His voice was normal, for Liam's surprise, yet hinting at his exhaustion.

"But what happened exactly?"

They wait for the bathroom to clear, looking around to check if no one was really there to hear them after the bell goes off once again, signaling that the break was over for some of the students.

"I just" Harry begins as he keeps his eyes on the floor, "I think Ricky doesn't really care about me."

Liam steps even closer with pity eyes, a warm hand resting on Harry's shoulder. "What do you mean?"

Harry feared this all along, although he knew very well this was likely to happen when he had the reputation of a slut for everyone in this school. It's not like he was selling his body to anyone. He sure wasn't getting any money from it, why would no one accept him for who he was?

"I think..." he gulped, arranging courage to face the truth. "I think he's just with me for, well, my body and, like, my skills..." Harry confessed. "He treats me as if I'm his puppy that he gets to boss around and get mad whenever I do something wrong, and show off to everyone. I don't know if he ever realized that we're in a relationship and that I'm his boyfriend, rather than his possession." Harry rubbed his hand through his hair, undoing the perfect messy side fringe with his fingers. He felt Liam's hand being removed from his shoulder, then landing back on it again with delicate pats, trying to give him some comfort.

"I know this is not what you want to hear..." Liam raises his head to stare at him with frankness, as if the whole thing was hardest for him than Harry himself, "But I've warned you. So many times, Harry. You always get too involved in things you know are only going to hurt you in the end. I know you can't help it. But you've been playing with fire and now you're the only one who's burning."

There he was: Liam. The cleverest person he's ever known, who never gets in trouble because, as surprising as it is, he knows how things are going to end up like. He is also the greatest friend anyone could wish for and always gives the best advice, but Harry never seemed to be good at following them.

Tears fall down his cheeks as Harry bites hard on his lower lip in a vain attempt of stopping them. Liam was right, and he knew it. God, he knew it all along... When would he ever learn?

"I'm sorry. I just can't help seeing you hurt yourself over douche bags like Ricky, who'll never appreciate you enough."

"Yeah..." Harry considers his friend's words for a second. "But I still like him."

Liam cocks his head with a frown.

"You 'like', or you love him?"

Harry raises one hand to wipe the shiny marks pooling over his cheeks. "I..."

"I thought you were doing all this because you love him," Liam cuts him off, indignant.

"But I like him... a lot," Harry tries to justify. "I know he's not the perfect boyfriend, but at least he cares about me, somehow, and accepts who I truly am. You know I'll probably never find someone as good as him when I'm like this: all fucked up," Harry tilts his head down to stare at his nails, which were covered in a pastel pink color.

"Harry, there's nothing wrong with you," Liam's hands drop on his sides with a sigh. "Look at me. You will find someone so much better than him, because you deserve it. You deserve to know what to be loved and to be in love really is all about."

Harry closes his eyes, feeling hopeless. He didn't know what to think anymore. One day he felt on the clouds and everyone seemed to appreciate him, the other he felt like no one genuinely cared about him because all he was ever going to be was weirdo. Sometimes he just wishes he's never been born, or was brought up as a girl. That would make his life so much easier...

 

His next thirty-minute break consisted on texting the first guy available for him to suck off.

"Fucking God!" Luke blisses out when the younger boy touches sensitive skin. "You're so nice".

"Am I really, Mr. Harding?" he looks up from where he kneels between his teacher's legs, hand replacing his mouth. The man hums from the back of his throat, his head dropping when Harry's plump lips return to suck at his red tip.

"You know, if I didn't have a class to give I would fuck you right here on this desk" Luke wonders aloud, eyes meeting eyes and he can't help but let out a moan.

Harry rubs his thumb in circular motions, teasing the oversensitive spot. "That if I'd let you" he smirks to the man who was nearly at the edge. "Don't think anyone can shove his dick up my arse". With this, Harry turns around, after leaving a full lick from the bottom to the head, and wiggles his ass onto the other man, letting him have a taste of how it'd feel to possess him .

"Oh, I would do you so good" Luke moves one hand to the younger boy's thigh and the other to his hard cock resting against his tummy as he feels himself coming to his high, stroking Harry into his orgasm.

"Oh shit!"Harry moans with his teacher's cum dripping onto his lower back and down to the crack of his white cheeks. They remain in these positions for a while, calming their beating chests, but Harry gets up from his lap as he peeks at the watch and realizes it's going to ring in a few minutes.

"Hey, where are you going?" Mr. Harding stares at him with open eyes, body still lazily displayed on the chair.

Harry stops in his tracks as he fixes his hair into place and tries to free it from the curtain of sweat framing his head. "It's gonna ring any minute. Might as well hurry".

The next thing Luke is already buttoning his pants and looking presentable once again. "Can we do this again... sometime?" he asks when they walk towards the door.

Harry scans his body from head to toe, biting his pink lip. "We'll see if you deserve it..."

Before any of them could say anything else the bell is heard and Mr. Harding hurries to unlock the door. He clears his throat, pushing every dirty thought to the back of his head, and lets Harry out.

 

The drive home is summed up in strange silent as both his mother and sister pick him up that afternoon. He had no idea what to expect whatsoever, but there was a feeling in his gut telling him it was no good.

"Harry, honey, would you mind sitting down for a minute?" Anne asks when they step inside, before walking towards the living room that was right on the closest door of the hall. Harry nods and follows with his head down, Gemma right after him. He sits down on the opposite couch, suppressing a sigh as he studies both women's expressions. Their mien is a mixture of earnest and apprehension, eyes set on him heavy and that makes Harry think he must have done something really bad.

"So... Why do you wanted to talk to me?" he goes straight to the point.

Anne shifts uncomfortably before she speaks. "Well, me and your sister have been talking and we think you need to see a professional."

Harry frowns. "A professional?"

His mom nods, but it's time for Gemma to speak up.

"A sexologist" Harry's face immediately changes into a scared puppy. "It's not normal, Harry. Not even for a boy of your age". Gemma's voice is soft like cotton candy, as always, but he still manages to get offended.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Honey, we know about your constant sexual cravings. We know-" Anne stops before finishing.

"You know what?" Harry remains confused. He notices his mother sigh and reaching to the edge of the seat, and now his heart was beating fast, frightened.

"We know about your constant hookups and cheating on your boyfriend."

"He's not even my boyfriend. And he cheats, as you say, on me all the time" he defends himself.

"Harry, we can tell you pleasure yourself a lot and get turned on by anything" Harry opens his mouth to protest but he isn't able to. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You're a boy, we can see."

Gemma looks down at the floor. It was weird to be having an awkward conversation with Harry, who was always such a golden boy.

"It's... it's not my fault" he stutters. "It happens naturally, I can't help it" Harry explains, too exposed and afraid that his own family won't accept him now that the truth is out.

His mom stands up to hug him and Harry instantly melts in her familiarly warm embrace. "I know, honey".

"I really wish I wasn't like this. I hate it all. No one wants to be serious with me, because they only see me as this promiscuous homo who's only good to use once or twice and it's good" he starts crying for the second time that day, sobbing into his mother's shoulder. Then he feels another body next to him, hand rubbing his back and a light kiss on his curly head.

"It's gonna be alright. We've found you an amazing sexologist to help you out, don't worry. We're here for you."

Chapter Text

                                                                      

 

Two hours later and he is still debating whether he should wear his favorite low-cut sweater or something fitter like a heart-print shirt. That seems to be the biggest issue on his mind, as he even called Liam for opinions. He had already switched his white converse for pointed oxfords of the same color and his face is looking clean and glowy. But he is found sitting at the end of his bed contemplating both of his options.

Things like this always happened whenever he was going some place besides school, and sometimes it would get really extreme to the point where a grumpy Harry would end up sitting on the messy floor, after trying every single outfit combination, telling his friend how he had nothing to wear. And, after listening to Harry's dilemma, Liam would indicate him exactly what he had to put on and that it would look fabulous on him. Of course Harry would end up loving how he looked after a while. And since Liam was always right, he decided to trust him and go with the preppy navy blue shirt.

He buttons the shirt all the way up for a change, then moving down to clasp the thin belt around his skin-tight jeans to make sure they wouldn't slip from place and expose his panties. He checks the time on his phone and slides it into one of his back pockets, for it was eleven fifteen and Ricky would be there any minute.

They drive to downtown Soho with music pretending to be conversation, Ricky focused on the road, Harry fixed on the display of blurry lights of yet another intrepid night. It comes to a point where he actually asks himself where did their connection go; what made the spark between them fade. He knew that's how things worked - people change and fall out of love - but what worried him the most was the fact that, although he was sad with their situation, it was okay; he could live like this another day. If he'd just let go of the times Ricky made him feel like shit, he could keep this train going somewhere he didn't quite know, until he was put down again and spread a cloud over it. He had already decided that he wasn't worth of better, and honestly it scared him how Ricky would react if he ever found out about his recent secret passion.

They arrive at Shadow Lounge by midnight and a familiar techno song playing inside able to be heard from the street. He feels Ricky, who was walking right by his side, touching his hand and quickly holding it when they go up to the bouncer at the purple ambient-lighted entrance. Two seconds later they are surrounded by people as they search for an empty table by the bar at the corner of the venue. Once they're settled, Ricky offers to get them some drinks.

"Yeah, sure" Harry just nods with his head in response, attention drifting to the semi-naked men seductively dancing and bouncing on the poles in their own platforms. The only thing able to steal all of his attention back is the uncomfortable tightening of the not-so-flexible fabric of his skinnies after a moment of escape.

"Shit" he murmurs, resisting the urge to palm himself through his jeans right then and there. Suddenly, he finds himself a second away from standing up and going to the bathroom or some place dark, but Ricky returns in that instance with a small crowd of people who were carrying different types of drinks on all of their hands. It was then he remembered Ricky's conversation on the phone earlier, when he appeared to be planing something with his friends.

He doesn't even introduce Harry to the people who were complete strangers to him, so he guesses they probably didn't even know they were together.

They all sit with them at the table, enjoying talking over and with each other. There was only two girls in the group: a brunette with a quirky nose piercing and the other one tanned with unusual silver hair. He notices the red-haired guy acting all flirty towards Ricky as they talked, playfully concealing any sexual tension (that was obvious) between them. Harry deduces they had presumably fucked before, maybe more than once. He bets Ricky was already planning on getting under his pants again that night.

So he finally sits up and walks away, surprisingly managing to get unnoticed.

The massive crowd of people doesn't even move when Harry squeezes through it, looking for a dark, empty corner. He hears some compliments and dirty words from the men and that immediately boosts his ego, but he doesn't let himself be caught by the predators that were already grinding on another bottoms. Until one of them lightly slaps his ass and he turns around to face the saucy lad.

The guy was just standing there, hips moving to the tireless beat and a casual look on his face. He was actually really hot, he came to conclusion in a heartbeat, with reasonably broad shoulders, a singular jawline and short cut deep brown hair styled in a moderate quiff at the front. Surprisingly, what really catches his eye isn't his strong baby blue eyes dimmed by the overshadowing lights, but the prominent biceps exposed by the white tank top he was wearing. He wonders how tiny he must look beside his developed 20-something adult body, probably like a ten-year-old boy.

The guy scans his body back from head to toe, before nodding his head with a smirk, as if he was approving of Harry's physical qualities.

"Hey, sexy back. You're boyfriend's not paying you any attention, is he?" Harry could tell by his voice - although he had never heard it before - that he had had a bit too much to drink already. But that doesn't stop him from leaning closer. Harry hooks his arms around his neck, bodies increasingly fighting against the little space between them. When the brown-haired guy draws his hands to his waist, Harry allows themselves to build up the tension together as their bodies dance much slower than the beat of the new song, the lights hot on his shoulders. They back off when a remix of "DKLA" starts playing and he can see how much both of them want each other.

The guy with the pretty blue eyes looks down at the bulge in his groin before asking:

"Need a quick fix?"

"Uh-uh" Harry is so overwhelmed that he can't even speak. Next thing, he's being urged and carried away from the wet bodies of the crowd. He follows the stranger to the darkest side of the club, where the lighting was fluorescent red and weak, and notices how there was a dead-end hall with various compartments along the way.

"Never been here before?" The guy - which he didn't know and didn't intend to know the name of - seems to state instead of question as he watches Harry frown in amusement.

"Not really"

Harry quickly understands what the zone they're in is for, by the banging and the moaning, while they dive into the hall in search for an empty booth. They find one at the very end, after having to look at a lot of inconvenient yet erotic sights of various silhouettes, given that the booths were open and anyone could see what was going on inside.

"Come" A hand drags him inside their booth and all he could think of was how he was going to come in a second from how desperate for touch he was. Those same hands travel along his sides, only stopping over his ass, and he's pushed backwards until he's caged between a wall and a firm body. All of a sudden, his cheeks are spread apart and he gasps in pleasure, finally close enough to smell the woodsy scent on the crook of his neck. He was so needy that he didn't even wait for their clothes to be on the floor before he was rubbing himself against the guy, feeling the increasing hardness caused by those movements.

"Holy shit..." Harry hears him moan for the first time and the thick, Irish accent actually made it even hotter for him. "Do you need to speed things up?"

Harry's hands work as the answer, promptly unbuttoning his dark blue jeans and sliding them to his ankles. Once on his knees, his left hand rushes to his own erection, giving himself some needed relief as the other hand makes its way under the Irish guy's boxer briefs. He starts pumping his length slowly, tortuously, at the same pace of his own, making both join the orchestra of moans playing in that place. After a while, he's switching his hand for his mouth, stopping before there was any liquids flowing inside. The man hovering his figure pats his shoulder.

"My turn" And then he's kissing Harry's skin from his neck to his thighs, decent enough not to leave any marks there. When his jeans are on the floor, he pulls his panties with his mouth and trails them along his legs until they meet his black skinnies just below his knees.

The brown-haired guy blows him hard, eagerly, satisfying the slut inside him. Even with his head thrown against the wall in pure delight, Harry can still tell how much he was enjoying sucking on his huge dick, making humming sounds and carefully scratching his love-handles. Each bob of his head had them closer to the edge and, soon enough, they were both dripping cum. He even had the luck to taste and feel Harry's sweet cum trickle right into his mouth.

"Oh, Jesus!" The guy rests against the wall when their bodies separate for good.

Harry decides to wipe the white liquid on his abs with his fingers, feeling the once tight muscles relax and the hair bristle from his light pressure.

"I'm not Jesus, but I can't say I haven't been called that before" He informs, before taking his wet finger into his mouth and swallowing the quaint sperm.

 

They never cross paths again that night, thankfully, because the next time Harry wouldn't be brave enough to stop at a simple blowjob. He heads back to the table then, and he isn't a bit surprised when he finds that Ricky and the punk guy were gone, whilst the rest of the group have stuck around.

Harry clears his throat in attempt of catching at least one person's attention,"Hey, guys. Do you know where Ricky is, by any chance?"

The girl with the silver hair is the only one who even notices there was someone standing there, waiting for an answer. She politely smiles when she looks at him, probably for the first proper time, although her eyes were a bit too red.

"Oh, hey!" The big-eyed girl greets him on top of the brunette's lap, resting her half-empty glass on the table. "I think he and Sean went home"

"Sean? That weird guy?"

She laughs at Harry's choice of words, obviously not surprised that someone like him would think that of a guy whose style was clearly the opposite of his, "Yes"

"Oh... okay. Thanks for letting me know" Harry walks away after grabbing what he assumed to be his 'Jameson on the rocks' that Ricky had brought him and drinking it all the way to the end. It was nearly 2 A.M when he checks the visor of his phone, in hopes that he would have at least a message. But he wasn't so lucky.

"Ricky, where are you? You've left me here in this damn club alone with a group of people that don't even look at me! Are you serious?"

He sighs when his message goes straight to voicemail and he can't help wondering if that night could go even more wrong.

After waiting ten minutes for his taxi, he decides to head to Ricky's, because he was so stupid to even worry about him, not sure how or if he was going to find him there.

The doorbell rings once... twice... and nothing. He thinks he must have done something really bad to deserve that, but he was just tired of his constant questioning. He drops to his heels against the opposite wall, running his fingers through his hair. The probability of Ricky being inside with that Sean guy, doing God-knows what, and completely ignoring the bell was 90 in 100%.

With his head resting on his knees, as if his position showcased just how small he felt, he ends up falling asleep. He only wakes up when cold hands waggle his shoulder, eyes opening little by little as all of the muscles of his body ache.

"Jesus" he whimpers in pain, cracking the muscles of his neck before staring up at the guy who woke him up.

"I just heard your message" Ricky speaks up, a tone down due to the fact that everyone in the building was likely to be asleep, or trying to. "Are you fucking stupid? What the hell are you doing here at this time of the night?"

It was probably the anesthesia of the nap he had just taken that stopped him from crying his exhaustion out. He could already feel the cloudiness setting in his mind again.

"I came to check if you were okay. I don't know, you disappeared from the party and din't have the guts to warn me or anything."

Ricky scoffs at him, "While you were taking some guy's cock up your arse? For fuck's sake, Harry! You can't have guys eating you up and expect me to patiently wait for your permission to bang a dude!"

"I never said you had to ask for permission..."

"Shut up, Harry" he cuts him off, taking a deep breath before speaking up again. "How did the conversation with your mom and Gemma go?"

With a shrug of the shoulders, Harry jerks his head down. "Okay, I guess. They told me it was better if I saw a professional."

"A professional?" Ricky raises one eyebrow, inquisitively and his head slightly bobs to one side. "What type of professional?"

Harry clears his throat before speaking, far too frightened for his own sake. "A sexologist."

If he could read minds Ricky was probably thinking something along the lines of "Yeah, sure" in the most sarcastic way possible. But then his light-hearted expression changed into a dreadful look when he understood that Harry was actually very serious.

"That doesn't make any sense" He protests, and Harry feels glad that he reacted so well.

"Well..." Harry stops himself when a sneeze abruptly makes its way out.

"C'mon, let's go inside."

The kissing on the couch of Ricky's flat quickly escalates to Harry giving the second blowjob in the span of an hour. Part of him missed being close with Ricky again, despite the negativity he constantly brought to his life. After all this time he couldn't understand what drew him so much about that type of people; maybe he was hoping he could live happier with someone who wouldn't treat him better than he deserved. It wasn't the fairy tale he had always dreamed of, but at least he wasn't being deceived into thinking he could have an happy ending.

He takes the fresh liquid down his throat, and then he feels it: Ricky was going to take off his jeans. In the hastiest of the motions, Harry's hands lock on hem of his pants to keep them in place, the belt unbuckled already.

"Hey! What's wrong, now?" Ricky looks at him dead in the eyes, his hands pausing around his waist.

"Nothing."

"Then come on. I wanna suck it better then the last guy" He applies pressure onto the hem, trying to have the fabric out of his way, but Harry holds back. So, with a protesting sound, Ricky slaps his hands away and hushes to slide the stiff material down and Harry could feel his cheeks violently heating up already.

"What. The. Actual. Fuck. Is. This?"

A million swear-words go through his mind but all he could feel at that moment is shame, raw and ruthless shame.

The more he watches Ricky staring down at his lace panties, the more he wants to perforate the floor and disappear inside the hole.

"These are my..." Harry stutters with his words.

"No wonder why your family wants to take you to the sexologist. You're a freak! Female underwear... You have got to be kidding." He thinks aloud while Harry's eyes water from oversensitiveness.

"But I like them" he fights back. "I love them" Harry confesses, avoiding the eye contact he just couldn't handle.

"You're a guy or a girl? Make up your mind 'cause I don't have to put up with this shit." Harry rubs his finger down the wet path on his cheek. "If I wanted to fuck a girl I would have called Tiffany over."

Harry doesn't even bother to explain him how clothes don't define gender and a bunch of other thinks he was just too dumb to try and understand. It takes literally one minute for him to put his pants back up and leave.

 

That night, he stands before the mirror and looks at his figure. He tries to admire his dreadful face, but he just can't, let alone when it looked like this: outrageously tired red eyes, flustered cheeks underneath them and chapped lips.

So he tries to see any beauty in the details; maybe his green eyes that everyone seemed to compliment him on, or his funny dimples that stuck out whenever he outlined the tiniest of the smiles. Maybe his curls, that he always tried to hide regardless of how much his mom and sister loved playing with them. Then he scans through his frail body, in hope. He searches, looks narrowly at every little feature... But he finds nothing. Nothing but an empty soul stuck inside of a porcelain doll.

Chapter Text

 

                                                                          

 

The constant buzz of the outside world stirs him from the alternative universe he wished he could live on. He moves his fingers for the first time that day, trailing the dry spot of tears in his face all the way down to his chin. And he hated that; waking up with a headache from so much crying that it seemed like his head was going to explode, even after all these hours. He rolls over to the other side of the bed, the back of his hand scratching his eyes. He didn't want to wake up, not that morning, not any other day.

"Good morning, sunshine!" His mom walks in unexpectedly, carrying a tray with food and smiling at her little baby, as she always claimed. "I brought you breakfast."

Harry yawns with his face buried in the pillow, not wanting to wake up and face the real world - a world where there was no peace of mind or tropical sun.

"Come on, Hazzy! I made your favorite breakfast" Anne stands in front of him, until he decides to finally open his eyes.

"Blueberry waffles?" he perks through the sheets like a kid playing hide and seek.

Her smile widens in response. "Indeed. Now, don't I deserve a kiss for bringing you breakfast to bed, you lazy sloth?"

Harry sits up, reaching out to kiss his mother's cheek. "Thank you".

He's handed the tray and rests it over his crossed legs, inhaling the warm air of the waffles that always made his appetite grow abruptly. He notices a strange look on her face; she seemed pensive as her eyes traveled across the room, like she was searching for something she didn't even know.

Harry stirs his scalding tea, so that it cools off quicker.

"So, how did last night go?" She finally asks. He doesn't want to remember last night. He had probably forgotten about it for a few more minutes if she hadn't unpleasantly mentioned it, making sense of his suspicious depression.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you got home so late and..." She pauses and Harry takes the chance to bite at the corner of one of his waffles.

"And what?" His voice comes out muffled from the food.

"Your sister said she heard you crying."

His eyes immediately dive to his plate, anxious and desperate to find a suitable answer. He would never tell his mom that he was put down for being himself, something she always taught him and praised. Nor would he tell her that he went to a club with an area where people engage in sexual activities and he was guilty of being one of them.

"I'm worried about you." Her hand reaches to caress his arm and the word 'freak' echoes through his mind, still so present all of a sudden.

"There's nothing to be worried about" He shrugs, but to his bad luck his mother could tell if he was lying from miles.

"Then tell me why you got home so late, when you know you have until two, tops?"

"I'm sorry" He goes back to stirring the tea, carefully picking the parts of the night he would have to take out - which was basically every single one. "It's just that Ricky left the club earlier and I had to check on him."

With those words, Anne makes an expression of someone who is ready to slap someone's face if needed and Harry can tell he's in big trouble.

"Whoa... whoa! Hold on a second. Ricky left you in that place alone without getting you a taxi to drive you home?"

"Well, I didn't see him, so I had to drive to his place to make sure nothing bad had happened to him." His tone gets progressively lower and words inscrutable as he speaks. He was stupid, he knew that. He could only hope one day he wouldn't give a single fuck about people who treated him like garbage.

"He was in charge of you!" She basically yells. "You're still underage. He had to watch out for you and make sure you got home okay, not the other way around!"

Harry bows his head down and closes his eyes for a second. His mother was right, everyone was right, but he was just too dumb to do the right things. He can hear her sigh in defeat at some point before feeling her motherly comforting touch again.

"Honey, you deserve so much better." He chews on his lip before he's forced to look up and see the concerned expression she couldn't conceal. "You do, sweetheart. You have no idea of the beautiful boy you are. I just can't understand why you underestimate yourself so much."

Harry doesn't want to explain how he feels deep inside, nor does he even want to say a word. So he just lays his head on his mother's chest and she sees that, somehow, that's all he needs.

 

"Oh." Anne turns around when she's about to close the door. "I forgot to tell you: Your appointment with Dr. Tomlinson is this Tuesday."

Harry chuckles. "Dr. Tomlinson..."

"Yes. What about it?"

"As in Tomlinson dairies?" He asks and his mother nods, not getting where he's going. "I don't ingest dairy, so I can already tell you I'm not gonna like him". Harry protests and crosses his arms like a child, which causes Anne to scoff and shake her head. He could bet that man was a fifty-years old, grey-haired pervert. He could even be a pedophile, using his job as a cover to rape his younger patients. He was okay with going to see a sexologist, well, he wouldn't have any other chance, but now he was a bit dubious about it.

"Right. You said you didn't like your English teacher and look at you now: his favorite student." she molds a smile on her lips.

Oh boy. If only she knew...

Harry stuffs his mouth with food before he could say anything that would compromise him.

"Am I right?"

He chews faster, anxious. "Yeah, yeah..." Clearly not lying.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, silly."

It's only when she leaves the room that he can finally sigh in relief. But now he was alone, left with his negative thought and memories. It only takes him five minutes to finish everything, thinking about how he had to shoot his special video of the week, which was out every Sunday night.

He hops out of the bed to take a shower, remembering how he had planned to go visit Liam that morning, leaving the afternoon clear for his... hobby. The best thing about being a camboy above all was the donations, he was not gonna lie. And sometimes he even received little treats in his mailbox for him to use in his weekly livestreams, which instantly boosted his mood for the rest of the day.

After a 30-minute shower that had his mother shouting how he wasn't being very environment-friendly, he squirted his favorite perfume and went to meet his friend.

The rest of the morning went pretty smooth. Liam's family were the most chilled people he knew, not even knocking on the door to complain about the loud music along with their terrible vocals that were probably heard throughout the house. Liam had recently gone through a break up, so Harry didn't want to bother him with his failed love life, neither did Liam want to shove down his throat how he should have listened to him all along. Instead they jumped on his bed until the bed springs were threatening to break, laughing about random things.

He had lunch alone for a change. Gemma was apparently going to spend the day with her boyfriend and he couldn't be happier to have the house all for himself. After cleaning his dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, he takes no time to jump upstairs to get ready for his video. The usual routine included: putting on a clean pair of panties of a color he didn't wear in his last video, if he didn't have any special request; pick some toys and accessories to go along with the theme of the week; and applying a pink, cherry-flavored lipstick. The trick was wanting himself as much as any of his subscribers did, and knowing how good his lips tasted, how scrumptious his skin smelled, seemed to work wonders.

This time he was role-playing as a school girl, wearing white thigh high socks with three black stripes at the top, making sure to only show off a bit of skin from his socks to his pleated skirt, and a shirt buttoned all the way up with a tie and everything. He starts positioned with his legs crossed in front of the camera, hair wrapping around his finger, making himself look even more innocent and sheepish than ever. What no one seemed to expect was a black belt laid beside him.

"Today is a very important day." He spoke with his usual higher-pitched voice. "I've just received my exam, and it's with a very huge sadness that I tell you that I failed... daddy." He stops to pout his lips. His hands wander from his knees to the hem of his skirt, threatening to pull it up, until he decides to uncross his legs. "I know you're watching, daddy" He repeats, biting on his lower lip. There was just something about that five-letter word that caused his legs to instantly open as if he was about to do the splits. He then moves his hands to his collar, unleashing himself from the tie and dropping it beside him, only to travel back to his shirt and unfasten the buttons one by one. "I know I've been a bad girl, daddy. Such a naughty girl..." Once his chest is fully exposed he can't resist the urge to pinch his nipples, letting out little moans for the first time. He throws his head back in pleasure as he starts to feel need between his legs, wanting to please himself as quick as possible. His breathing speeds up. "That's why I'm going to punish myself for you, daddy." Removing his hands from himself, he grabs the belt peacefully displayed on the bed and climbs onto the bed, turning around so that his ass was in the foreground.

He drops onto his hands and knees after taking his shirt off, teasingly running his fingers along the sensitive area of the back of his upper leg, feeling shivers throughout his entire body. "Hmm" He arches his back, proceeding to touch himself until he gets to his skirt once again. This time he doesn't stop and slides the fabric to his waist, so that his cotton panties are finally revealed before the camera. They were white and had a big, red 'D' written in capital letters. "Would you like me to flog myself with this belt until my little bum is all sore, daddy?"

He wasn't expecting an answer, he was going to do it. When he pulls his panties down to his knees, he can only imagine how many guys had their dicks dripping already. So he grabs his cheeks, squeezing them under his hands, allowing himself to feel the soft flesh that was about to become red in a minute.

"Okay, daddy. I want you to count with me, yeah?" His legs spread wider as he grabs the belt with one hand, this time not stopping until it's heavily hitting against his vulnerable spot. "One" He moans under his breath, raising his hand to strike again. "Two..."

It goes on until twelve, until he's biting hard on his lip to stop the whimpers from coming out. The way his heart is beating out of his chest tells him he shouldn't have gone so far. He decides to pause to drink a bit of water, to calm himself down. But he was clicking the recording button in a matter of seconds, taking up where he left off.

"How did you like it, daddy?" He asks to the camera. "Am I allowed to touch myself now?"

As clear as he wasn't getting any answers, he had everything planned. He bends down to place his glittering dildo on top of the bed, sighing from imagining how it was going to hurt not to prepare himself for it. The tie on his side was fastened around his wrists behind his back, to keep him from touching himself. He loved that - the pain and the pleasure mixed together in a perfect orchestra of moans, whimpers and sighs.

"As a greater punishment for failing my exam, I'm going to shove this dick up my virgin hole and ride it for you, daddy. Yeah? "

He only realized how punishing it could be when he started to sit down on it. Although he had lubed the object, he hadn't used any on himself and it was really painful. Once he finally gets to the bottom, he takes a moment to breathe, squeezing his eyes shut, as he almost felt close to throwing up.

"Okay." He whispered to himself and continues with his plans.

He dances to the camera, hips moving at the same pace of his heart. The sweat starts to settle down after a while and all he wanted was a hand wrapped around his member to take away the frustration he was giving himself.

"Oh, daddy." He moans, louder than the first times. "Fuck me."

Before long, he is panting and is weak legs starting to shake. It takes a lot of strength for him to continue his movements until he comes, and he ends up asking himself why he never works out. But his mind is soon reduced to a blank space as he's screaming for his 'daddy'.

 

Monday he spends all afternoon by the TV, binge-watching all types of shows - from Family Guy to Supernatural. He had a bucket of popcorn next to him, and it was enough company.

"Honey, they just called about your appointment." Anne walks over to him with a cloth in her hands. "The receptionist said someone cancelled their appointment for today, so Dr. Tomlinson can see you now."

"Okay. Let me just finish this episode and then we can go."

He hears footsteps approaching until his mother stops in front of the screen. "When I say now I mean 'your appointment is starting in" She glances at her watch, "'twenty-four minutes' now!"

Harry's confused face suddenly changes into the epitome of surprise, as he's completely caught off guard. "Oh, shoot!"

He literally runs upstairs to get ready as quickly as possible. He changes his sweatpants into a pair of skinny jeans and grabs the first white thing he sees in his closet, which ends up being his ridiculous V neck tunic. His hair was a complete mess and even if he spent long minutes on it, it wouldn't make much of a difference. It seemed like every time he had to look presentable the universe was against him. He runs downstairs as he combs his hair with his fingers, not forgetting to spritz his sweet-scented perfume onto his neck and wrists first. "I'm ready!"

 

The shiny, grey-tiled building in the centre of London was easily spotted and, soon enough, Harry's in front of the broad facade, making his way through the big glass doors. He didn't think he'd be entering such expensive-looking building to attend his appointment.

"What can I help you with?" A lovely redhead with black, square glasses asks from her desk in the lobby, making him wonder how they always manage to remain well-disposed all the time.

Harry steps forward. "Uh, I have an appointment with Dr...." he fidgets, trying to remember the name of his future rapist. "Tomlinson dairies." The words come out of his mouth before he can stop them and he reckons he's already made a fool out of himself enough not to want to come back to that place. For a moment he only wishes no one had heard him. What was wrong with me today?

The secretary remains quiet and the only thing Harry wants to do is run away as fast as possible.

"It's me." He hears the voice and his heart promptly stops.

Shit.

He doesn't even move, such the embarrassment, and his crimson cheeks couldn't just cope a little as usual.

"I'll take it from here, Julianne."

She nods and goes back to doing her job, as if nothing had happened. God, how could people be this professional without even trying? The one time he tries not to mess up, he ends up failing roundly.

"You must be Harry, right?"

He makes an effort to turn his frozen body around and it pays off when he sees the owner of such exquisite voice. Or makes him even more disturbed. He had never seen anything like that. Well, he had never hoped to see anything like that in his life. There was no chance he was older than thirty, and he was even more good-looking than his dream man. The moment he sees his sapphire blue eyes on him, hidden under such unusually long eyelashes, everything seems to stop. Harry can just stand there, perplexed, admiring such polished-to-perfection face. He could tell he had shaved that morning, and he couldn't even grow a little stubble. He was a joke. Not even his curls could ever compare to the soft, messy fringe across his forehead of such beautiful, feathery chocolate locks. At some point he thinks he sees a tiny curve forming on his thin lips, but he couldn't tell for certain. Everything looked too much like a dream to be real. He only closes his mouth after a solid minute of gaping.

Harry's P.O.V

He must think I'm a complete freak.

His eyes widen, but it seems like his smirk never leaves his face.

"Are you okay?"

Is he even speaking to me? I must be hallucinating...

"Do you need a glass of water?"

Okay. He is really talking to me. Oh, God... Breathe, Harry, breathe.

"No. I don't need one... No."

Not even a 'thank you'? Really?

Narrator's P.O.V

"You are very pallid, Harry. Are you sure-"

"I'm fine." Harry breathes for what seems to be an eternity, interrupting him. "Thank you. I just..." The man almost moves, before noticing he's about to speak again, and he see a little smirk as if he was expecting Harry to admit he nearly passed out by looking at the masterpiece that he is. "... Yeah." He turns around to see if anyone was staring, because his embarrassment could be spotted from miles and miles, but to his luck it was just him and the gorgeous man in their own bubble.

He smiles at last, making his perfect, rectangular teeth and the little crinkles by his eyes stand out. He was far from the caddish image he had planted on his head. God, he never thought he'd think this, but he wouldn't mind being abused by Dr. Tomlinson. "Let's go, then?"

Every chance of it being a genuine smile is gone now, because he was probably just being polite and nice to his newest patient. He leads the way towards the elevators and Harry follows behind. He notice the way his body moves under the blue suit and it's just obscene; Every single thing about him was an attack towards the humanity.

He calls the elevator and the doors open immediately. The last thing he needed right now was awkward silence, thank you very much. He steps back, indicating him to go first as he was the one on the lead, but he turns to the taller boy and stirs his arm "After you."

Chapter Text

                                                                        

 

The roomy, stainless steel cabin feels too small as Harry is constricted by those four seastone walls, and he wasn't even claustrophobic. The man presses the button number 9, which had 'Sexologist' written in the tiniest capital letters, and moves to stand right beside him. He didn't know what it was, but it felt like he couldn't breathe near him. And there they were, next to each other on such a limited space. Harry thinks he can hear his own breathing, so maybe Tomlinson could hear it too. But he just stands there, still and firm like he had no emotions, yet so alluring, watching the numbers pass on the little screen. Harry, otherwise, was stressing out while his mind kept filling with questions to which he wanted to know the answer. What even was his first name? He had no idea, but it was probably some rich-man name like William or Charles. Maybe Thomas... Thomas Tomlinson. Harry lets out a scoff at the thought of the man introducing himself as Dr. Thomas Tomlinson, readily bowing his head down and biting on his lip to prevent himself from further embarrassment. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive this, let alone possible weekly appointments with Dr. Tomlinson, when he couldn't even stand before him without stuttering or making a fool out of himself.

None of them dared to say a word throughout the quick flight to the ninth floor. The sudden ding of the elevator saves himself from the heat, as he comes across a chill, white marble hall with cabinets widely distributed along the way. Harry follows him once again, looking around and only finding people on a small living room, probably waiting to be seen. There was another secretary, calmly sitting by her desk with a phone held on her ear. She immediately smiles when she sees them, greeting Dr. Tomlinson with a muted "Good afternoon". He nods his head in acknowledgement, but never stops walking until he's turning the doorknob of the last door of the corridor open. Again, he signals for Harry to go first, as if he was calling him a lady in his mind, and Harry didn't know if he liked it or not. But it was probably just mere courtesy.

Harry pierces inside and it takes him a moment to take it all in. The clinical room was bigger than he ever expected; too big for a man only*. There was a desk right in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, tidy and clean, with only a stack of books at the very corner. He thinks the black, faux leather office chair on the other side looked like it could have the best view of the city whenever its back was turned at the white door. With the sound of a door being shut closed behind him, his eyes drift to the small sitting room on the left. The comfortable-looking couch and the two L-shaped velvet lounge chairs were displayed around a round coffee table, which had some weird anatomical-shaped bronze figurine. His eyes wander across the walls and he spots two black and white portraits next to each other.

"Havelock Ellis and John Symonds" Tomlinson speaks, approaching him. "Great men."

Harry just stays there looking at the wall for longer than it'd be appropriate. But his sight was blurry, as he was thinking how the outrageously handsome man behind him should be the one hung up in the walls of every single gallery around the world, for how perfectly sculpted he was. Definitely a Greek God.

The man softly coughs, waking Harry up from his little transe. "Ready to begin?"

Harry sits across the blue-eyed man with his heart nearly bursting through his chest. He watches him while he grabs a notebook and a dark green jade pointed pen to write on, letting the items rest on the desk.

"In order for this to work, I need you to be as comfortable as possible and to know that you can trust me with anything. I'm only here to help." He clicks the pen open with his thumb. "So, Harry, tell me a little bit about you. Why are you here exactly?"

 

Two questions in a row... Okay, he could do that.

 

"Well, I'm a senior, I live with my mother and my older sister and I love cats." He looks away, avoiding eye contact for a second. "But my sister is allergic, so I never had one." He pouts. When he finally looks up to face the man again he can tell he was pressing his lips together in a tight line not to let a laugh escape from his mouth. Harry was that ridiculous, he knew that, but it didn't stop himself from wanting to leave. How was he supposed to feel comfortable in front of that man? Ever?

"W-What I meant was: Tell me a little bit about your sex life. What are your concerns..." He explains, the straight face back again.

Oh.

Harry's eyes focus on his hands lying on his lap, fingers suddenly playing with each other.

"I..." He ponders if he should mention every intimate detail, as it was far too embarrassing and he'd probably get laughed at. "I don't really know, honestly. I have a boyfriend."

Tomlinson's eyebrows raise when his face cocks to the side. "Hmm, a boyfriend... Good. What else?"

Harry couldn't do it. He didn't even know how he agreed on going to see a sexologist in the first place. The man was probably used to hear such crazy things all the time... But he'd still be the Mad Hatter of the story.

"You know what? I'm completely fine with myself. It was a mistake." Harry stands up, not even giving himself time to think of his actions; He just wanted to leave. "I should've never come here. I'm sorry for wasting your time." Harry's about to walk away when he feels a tight grip on his arm. He instinctively looks behind to see what was that force that was holding him back, obviously coming face to face with Dr. Tomlinson.

"Sit down." The almighty man orders, their eyes locking in each other's, time frozen for a moment before Harry's flying in autopilot back to his place. He clears his throat once they're sitting again. "Your mother said that you have a very strong sexual appetite, is it true?"

Harry gulps. Oh, shit. He must not think about sex, he must not think about sex...

"Is it?"

Harry sightly nods his head in response. He thinks he sees another smirk forming on the man's lips, but he no longer trusted himself.

"How do you identify yourself as, Harry?" The man asks, resting his thumb on his chin and index on his cheek while studying his face.

"As a boy?" Harry says in an uncertain tone. And there was 'The Face' again. Dammit.

"No." He lets out a light chuckle. "I mean, are you gay, bisexual...?"

What if Dr. Tomlinson was homophobic? What if he was rejected as a patient? He couldn't handle feeling inferior in this situation.

"I..." he stutters again. How could he be so easily persuaded to stay when all he ever wanted in his life was to leave that building and never come back?

"Let me make it easier for you." The man opens one drawer and searches for something, until he's taking out a sheet of paper. Then he grabs his pen to circle something on it. "Here's a list of numbers and, from one to six, you tell me which one describes you the best."

Harry grabs the sheet and takes a look at the signaled question. It read:

A) From the options below, underline the one you identify with the most.

0 - Exclusively heterosexual.

1 - Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual.

2 - Predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual.

3 - Equally heterosexual and homosexual.

4 - Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual.

5 - Predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual.

6 - Exclusively homosexual.

He wouldn't mind if he was honest after all, would he?

"Ahem... Six."

The man's Adam's apple shifts on his neck and Harry could bet his pupils dilated too.

"Are you sure?" He looks at Harry with all the seriousness in the world, but it felt like he was smiling on the inside.

"Yes. I'm a gay boy**."

1Tomlinson reaches one hand out and Harry hands him back the sheet. "Very well... Now tell me about your sexual desire."

His cheeks start heating up before he could even begin to speak. "I think.... I have a lot."

"Do you masturbate, Harry?"

He nearly choked at the intrusive question. Now he was definitely crimson red.

"How often do you masturbate?" The man corrects himself, his eyes fixed on Harry's as he waits for an answer.

"I... I don't know. Every time I need to."

"How frequent is the need to touch yourself?"

Suddenly, the room was hitting unbearable temperatures. Harry fidgets with the hem of his shirt, wanting to avoid that question so badly, but he wasn't capable of standing up again.

"I'm..." Harry bites his lower lip, tasting a trace of his faded lip balm. "Frequently." He confesses, staring up at the man with his lip held between his teeth.

"Is your boyfriend the reason?" Tomlinson's hands come together to shape a triangle and his posture was nearly daunting now. "Does he make you horny that often?"

"Well... sometimes."

The man lightly squints his eyes at him. "What makes you so turned on, then?"

Cock.

"I... I don't really know. Everything?" He says, trying to hide his face from the bold sun that kept heating it up. " Why do you ask such hard questions?"

"Alright." His mouth forms a half smirk. "Here's an easier one: Do you eat bananas?***"

Harry nods.

"And does that make you think about sucking a penis?"

Penis... It almost felt wrong for him somebody calling it a penis.

Harry nods again.

"Do you feel the need to suck one afterwards?"

Harry sighs at the feeling of a twitch down there, wondering if he was going to stop what he was doing.

"Do you usually go suck one? What do you do exactly?"

"I usually" he stops to take a breath, "use my hands."

He watches the man scribbling down on his notebook, this time taking a bit longer. He bows his head to look down at his long, lean fingers curled into fists. His skin was nearly as pale as the white of his shirt.

"Do you like it when guys talks dirty to you, Harry?" He asks with his eyes still focused on the paper.

Harry's eyes travel to his manly, thin lips, imagining a million things they could to to him. He wouldn't mind biting and sucking on them either. Because the truth was that his jeans were getting tighter by the second and he was doing anything he could to fight the urge to touch himself right there and then.

Tomlinson raises his head. "Does it make you wet if I say 'Your cock is fucking huge?"

Harry inhales as he feels his hand voluntarily positioning itself between his legs. How could such polite, serious man be talking like this to one of his patients like he was just asking him if he liked tea?

"Are you turned on now?"

Harry couldn't lower himself that much, so he stayed quiet, still a little bit in shock.

"I know the way your legs are crossed and your thighs are pressing so hard against each other... Not to mention your breathing, ever so uneven and sharp." His voice comes out raspy with just a hint of smoothness. "I could tell it from the other side of the room." He sits back on his chair, resting his head like he was about to watch an interesting movie.

"Please." Harry looks at him, all pleading eyes. "I can't..." his hand grabs at his bulge. "I shouldn't..."

The man smirks in response with all of his power. "Go ahead. We have a complete non-disclosure policy, so what happens behind closed doors is our and only our business.

With a guilty feeling, Harry dives his hand under his jeans and pulls out his member, giving it quick tugs. His head was, indeed, already dripping, so a single minute of jerking off had him close to his orgasm. He bites his lip when he feels the familiar writhing of his stomach.

"Oh, I'm..."

The man licks his lips as he stares at the whipped boy in front of him."You're gonna come?"

Harry rolls his eyes as he circles his tip. "Mm-mhm..."

"Come for me." He coaxes him with his head and it was all it took for Harry to be coming undone before him. Harry's head was dropped back in pure delight. After his sight goes back to normal, he sees it: a certificate hung up high on the wall. He squints his eyes until he can read something along the lines of 'Elected Best Sexologist in the U.K'. His jaw nearly falls. Now he understood all the fanciness - he was literally the best sexologist in the country. Either his mom thought he was in serious need of help or she had made some extra cash she didn't tell him about. Either way, he never expected to visit the best professional in the U.K. It was crazy.

"I guess we're finished now****." He informs, sitting up straight to look at Harry, who was fixing himself inside of his pants. Then he turns his head to write a few more things down before closing his notebook.

It was so awkward to stand before a stranger who just happened to be your sexologist - the best in the country - right after you've just jerked off and came in your hand. And just when he wants to fix his messy hair back into place, his hands were covered in his cum.

"Do you have a tissue?" Harry dares to ask, his inhibition far lost for him to feel ashamed anymore.

Tomlinson takes his handkerchief out of his suit pocket. "Here you go" he hands it to him, smiling when their fingers slightly touch.

"Thank you" He mutters and his voice is ever so low, submissive. Harry notes a small 'L' imprinted on the cotton fabric. The man screamed sophistication, from his looks to his tissues.

"I'm afraid we're gonna have to schedule another appointment for around next week. But I'll call you to arrange it." He rips a sheet from his notebook, handing it to Harry along with his pen. "Please write your number here. I only have your mother's."

Harry does as asked and then he finds himself in another uncomfortable situation: The damn tissue was dirty with his cum and he didn't know if he should give it back like that.

"Is there anything you want to ask before you go?"

Oh. Finally a question he wouldn't have to answer.

Harry smiles at him. "What is your name?"

"You have really cute dimples, did you know that?" He tries to run away from the question by making Harry blush for the hundredth time.

"Come on! I just gave you my number" Harry protests, his still voice coming out low and bashful.

The man plays with his collar for a brief second, sighing in defeat. "Fair enough. I'm Louis."

Louis... Louis Tomlinson. He liked that.

Harry's smile widens for no apparent reason, but chooses to cover it by biting his lip. Louis stands up and Harry mirrors him, walking him to the door. He hesitates on opening it, making Harry look at him confused.

"My handkerchief."

"Your what?" Harry frowns, probably as funny as usual because Louis was on the edge of laughing.

"My tissue" He asks.

For a moment Harry wonders if he didn't have French ancestry and his name wasn't actually supposed to be pronounced 'Louey'.

"Oh." Harry looks at his hand. "I can take your fancy tissue handker-thing and wash it real clean and bring it next time." He suggests, playing with the folded fabric.

"Don't worry. It's all good."

Harry nods, giving it back. He probably was used to see other people's cum all the time.

"So..." Harry looks down at his feet, coming across a gentle protuberance on Louis pants. He didn't know how he felt about it, and it was probably better if he didn't want to. But his eyes seemed magnetized by it. He didn't want to stare at it. It was wrong and inappropriate.

"So... Until next time, Harry." Louis reaches out his hand for Harry to shake. The younger boy doesn't hesitate and their eyes study each other's for one last time before all contact his gone.

"Goodbye, Dr. Tomlinson." He blinks at him and, all of a sudden, he's out the door.

All he knew when he was making his way out of that building, was how there was something tickling his stomach as he felt an uncontrollable desire to giggle. Although he was finally out of that intense atmosphere, he wanted to come back as soon as possible.

Chapter Text

His pair throws the ball too far away and he was now one second from giving up. Dropping his arms in frustration, he looks at Liam and groans to himself.

"I know you have a lot of strength, Bruce Wayne. No need to shove it in my face" he glances at the ball waiting near the bleachers. "... Almost."

Liam approaches him, racket in his hand and a persuasive, innocent smile on his face. "Very funny" he raises his shirt until the famous Batman logo is covered, making his bellybutton visible. "You know, if I had his strength you wouldn't even see that ball."

"Well, that'd be a win-win" he states, sitting down on the pavement despite being aware that the chances of getting hit by someone else's ball was really high.

Liam groans. "Come on, Harry! If you don't move your arse no one's gonna catch the ball and we're gonna spend the entire class looking at each other."

"Sounds good to me" he rests his head on the floor, looking at the clear sky. He didn't know if he should be thankful for it or not, because now he was sweating from head to toe. Suddenly, the sun stops hitting his face and he opens his eyes, coming across with Liam, who had his legs spread on his sides and was now giving him a serious look.

"I'm gonna go get the ball. But only this time."

Harry makes all the effort in the world to get his arse up until his friend is back and ready to throw the ball at him.

"Let's focus, now" Liam says, backing away from the net to find his place on the court.

 

Thirty minutes later they were in the locker room, talking about what they would eat for lunch, when Liam decides to ask something not so appetite-whetting.

"How was your first time at the sexologist?" he quietly asks, making sure no one else could hear him.

Harry rolls his eyes, taking off his tennis shoes. "It was fine" he simply says. He carries on undressing until he's left only in his boxer briefs - he would never let no one see him in panties in person. Never again.

"Just..." Liam stares deeper at him while talking off his shorts. "... fine?"

"Uh-uh" Harry nods. He sits down on the long bench, waiting for the showers to clear out so that he could comfortably wash away the dirt and sweat off his body.

"What does he look like? Does he have grey hair?"

Harry scoffs with a giggle. "Yeah. And a dislocated hip."

Liam sits down next to him, nudging his arm after he sees the way Harry's cheeks were gaining back color as he bit on his lip. "Seriously. Is he younger?"

Harry wanted to laugh at the way they both thought a sexologist would look like. Oh, how they were wrong...

"He is." He lets go of his lip, looking away from his friend's inquisitive expression. He wanted to push the image of the beautiful man to the back of his mind and ignore the eagerness of seeing his face again. But he just wasn't able to.

God, he needed him. He needed the impetuous effect he had on him. How could he miss someone who had made him feel embarrassed the whole time they were together? Someone who, with just one touch or look, could have him doing anything he wanted. Harry wanted, willingly, to be used by him. It didn't matter when or how, even if only once in his life. He desired that man with a ferocious passion that burned inside of him like a match. It felt like he could explode soon, and it wouldn't stop until he had him.

"Hmm..." He acknowledges Harry's condition. "Is he hot, then?"

Harry stares back at him after taking a deep breath. "Ridiculously hot."

Liam makes an approving sound at his statement. It was clear that he was going to ask for more. Probably more than he should. Harry's always been the kind of person to count on his best friend for everything, like telling every detail of his crush or recent relationships. It's not that he didn't trusted him anymore, but maybe he wasn't the one trusted on and he didn't want to screw things up this time.

"What else?" Liam says in pure excitement, like he was all ears and wide eyes.

Harry shrugs, pouting his way into silence. He hoped Liam got the memo.

"Is he blonde? You always had a thing for the blondes!" He notices Harry's denying gesture and his face falls into a suspicious smirk. "Is he a brunette ?!"

Harry closes his eyes for a second, ignoring the wiggling of his bushy eyebrows.

"He is a brunette!" Liam smiles, proud at himself. "Does he have brown eyes? Blue, maybe?"

Harry snaps. "I'm not telling you, okay? You can stop already."

He sees the way Liam seems to get slightly offended, but it wasn't for him to know.

"Jesus! Is it a secret?"

Harry looks down, after noticing almost everyone had already left the room. Half of the probably didn't even shower.

"I won't steal him from you, if that's you're worried about."

"No. It's not that." His hand rests on Liam's shoulder. "It's just that I don't really wanna set my hopes too high and get hurt in the end."

"But you like him?"

"I think so, yeah." His hand falls out and he glances at Liam in search for understanding. "I mean, it's something very recent. Come on, I just met him once! But... I don't know. He had a strange impact on me. I've never felt this way before. I want to know him better, I want to know every single detail about him, regardless of how dark it might be. And... I want him to want me." He shuts his eyes for a second. "So bad it's consuming me. I know he probably will never feel anything for me besides compassion and some kind of weird friendship that doctors and patients have, but that doesn't change anything."

They stay silent before Liam gains the courage to speak.

"What about Ricky?"

Harry exhales, shaking his head. "We broke up." He tells him, and it doesn't make his heart clench with pain like it should. He was angry, maybe even embarrassed, but not heartbroken.

He hears an upsetting sound coming from Liam's mouth and then he had an arm around his neck.

"I'm sorry."

Harry feels the salty liquid welling up in his eyes. They were like flashbacks of everything he regretted covering his blurry sight. He didn't want to feel this way again; he wanted to do it right, at least once in his life.

"I feel so stupid. I am so stupid... I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." He starts rubbing a hand over his back. "You know what? It was probably for the best. He didn't deserve you."

Without expecting, Liam is tickling his armpits in an attempt of making him smile. And it works, as usual.

 

"I can't believe you managed to eat that huge bowl of kale salad!" Liam goggles at his empty container. "That must be a record."

Harry squints his eyes at his friend, who had been stuffing his mouth with a 5-floor McDonald's' burger for the last ten minutes. "You should know all of its benefits before talking." He glances at the half-finished Big Mac falling apart on its little box. "Aren't you gonna finish it at least?"

Liam leans on his chair like he was about to give birth to something. "No. I can't. I'm so full." He rubs a hand over his tummy with a painful face. "I feel it stretching my stomach."

Harry couldn't help but mock Liam as he threw a crumpled tissue at him. "That's what meat and that fast food crap do to you."

He rolls his eyes in response, moving the other hand to grab at the big-sized coke he had asked for. "Shut up!"

Harry moves to get up once they had already eaten, grabbing his juice to drink on the way back to school. He notices Liam still sitting, looking back at him. "Aren't you gonna move?"

He nods and, with some effort, gets up with his stomach heaving his movements. "I feel like I've eaten like a pig."

Harry goes to take a sip from his orange juice but stops midway, not wasting a chance to make fun of him. "You most certainly will end up looking as fat as one if you keep on eating like that."

Liam squints his eyes at him. "Very funny, Mr. Styles - who eats raw salad and kale."

 

They make their way back to school, chatting about the most random things and keeping each other updated on their lives.

"Are you coming to the party this weekend?" Liam asks as they walk through the metal gates.

Harry frowns. "What party?"

"Some jocks from our year are hosting a party at one of them's house. I think his name's Oliver or something." He tells him.

"I'm not interested." Harry says without a doubt.

"A lot of people of our class are going too. It'll be fun."

There was almost no one outside, so they decide to sit on one of the benches until the bell goes off.

"Becky is going too."

Harry looks over his shoulder.

"Who's Becky?"

And then he sees him. The man in the grey tailored suit and perfect casual quiff, walking down the entrance with some other guy. His mouth hangs open. He looked like he had just came out of a photo shoot. Harry didn't remember him looking as good as that. That was too much.

Louis is about to put his aviators on when he finds a familiar face. How could he forget the curly boy?

"I'll be right back."

"Shit." Harry says when he realizes he's walking in their direction. His face starts to heat up at a lunatic speed as his eyes get closer and closer. "He's coming here."

He can hear Liam say something, but it's muffled by his beating heart, loudly pounding in his chest. What would he want from him? Why was he at his school?

"Hello, Harry. And..."

"Liam."

Fuck. He's smiling in all his glory, like he had never seen Harry touch himself and come right in front of him. And he's just standing there, tan complexion and chocolate locks heated by the sun. But Harry was the only one close to melting.

"Uh... Hi."

If people didn't know, they would think it was the first time they were talking to each other. And Harry could tell Liam had the most confused expression on his face.

"Don't you have classes?"

Harry didn't remember his voice sounding so beautiful.

"I do. In ten minutes." He says and hears a disappointed sound escaping his lips.

"I thought we could go grab a coffee or something to eat..."

If it was physically possible, his heart just started beating even faster. Louis wanted to go somewhere with him... This couldn't be happening.

"I just had lunch."

Harry felt so bad he wanted to roll is eyes at himself. Not only for having to deny his request, but for not being capable of missing one class to go out with the man of his dreams.

"Maybe next time, then." His face tilted slightly to the side, lips puckering in a thin line. And that reminded Harry of how much he wanted to kiss them.

"Uh, sure."

He took his sunglasses out of his pocket and held them in his hand.

"It was great seeing you." The turned to look at Liam. "Both of you."

"You too." Harry smiles, even though he's killing himself on the inside.

He watches Louis walk away and it's one of the most painful feelings in the world.

Chapter Text

They are walking inside their English class as soon as the bell goes off.

"We need to talk." Liam tells him before heading to his seat, rushing because their teacher was always extremely punctual. 

They usually sat together in every class, but in this one they had to be separated due to "too much talking". At least it's what the always-lovely Mrs. Flack said. But in fact, Harry knew she liked picking on him and had done it without enough reasons, as his classmates always talked as much as they did.

"Good morning, class."

Harry barely even noticed a different voice, a different person walking in with a briefcase on hand. The man had a grey and beige checkered suit, matching glasses, black hair on a gelled-up quiff and a bone structure to die for. He was actually pretty handsome. He was actually the man he'd seen with Louis a few minutes ago.

Harry looks around to see everyone was as surprised as he was. At least he wasn't the only person with his chin hanging low. He could tell some girls were already fancying him, giving stares and elbowing each other like girls do.

The man puts down his things and stands up before his new class. 

"I'm gonna be your English teacher from now on. Your old teacher - Mrs. Flack - was recently in an accident and is now hospitalized."

The students start chatting with each other, obviously not knowing about the recent events. Harry didn't want to be happy for it, but he freaking was.

"We don't know how long she's gonna be away, so I'm here to fill in for her."

Harry immediately liked his voice. And his accent too. It's all very soothing and calming. He just hoped he never falls asleep on his class.

"I'm Mr. Malik and I hope we can all get along. If you need anything you can come to me after our class is over. Without further do, let's begin."

Straight to the point. Harry just hoped he wasn't as intimidating as Louis.

Louis. The thought comes back to his head and his heart can't help but sink as he remembers turning him down for a coffee. No wonder how he was never good at dating...

Harry tries not to let out the dreamy sight that's ready to spill from his nostrils. There were days he actually really hated himself and today was one of them.

The class takes too long to come to an end, but he thinks it was mainly from the fact that he couldn't take Louis out of his mind the entire time. If someone was too ask him what he'd learn at that class he'd only be able to say the title of the new book they started reading. 

He ponders if he should make up some question to ask Mr. Malik so that he could maybe find out what Louis was doing at his school or why he was talking with him, but he decides against it. He didn't want to embarrass himself any further that day. 

"Who was that man?" Liam asks him as he steps out of the classroom.

"Our English teacher...?"

Wtf Liam.

"No. I mean, the man in the grey suit and the ridiculously beautiful face?"

He's mine! Harry wanted to scream it to his face but reality hit him like a rock. Louis wasn't his. At all. And probably would never be. As much as he liked feeding the thought that one day maybe they would have some sort of relationship other than doctor-patient, that was the sad truth.

"Oh... He's him." Is all Harry could mutter.

"By him you mean your sexologist?" Liam asks like it was a completely normal thing for other people to hear.

"Shut up, Lima!"

Harry wanted to push him against the wall.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Liam's face moves up and he lowers his voice so drastically that he's whispering. "As much as I hate to say this, he's kind of out of your league."

This time Harry doesn't hold back.

"Don't mention it..." He says, rolling his eyes. It sucked but it was true. Louis was something he could only admire from the corner as he was just too good for him.

"But..." Liam starts, this time smiling in excitement. "He's totally into you."

"Yeah sure..."

"Trust me. I saw the way he was looking at you, the way his eyes shinned just by staring at your face. It wasn't a "stranger" look or a "friendly" look; It was something more."

"Oh, don't tell me. It was love?" Harry says ironically. Honestly, Liam sometimes could make up the most ridiculous things ever.

"No. Not yet."

"So what was it?" Harry asks, pretending that he doesn't really want to know. But he did.

"Fond. Although I have to say your rejection to going out burned the flames in his eyes. You should ring him."

"Yeah, as if I stood a chance..."

Harry starts walking down the hallway, wanting to go back home and just be alone with his thoughts. But Liam follows right after him, quickly catching him.

"You do. Otherwise I wouldn't be advising you to." Liam says like it's the most obvious thing.

"I... I don't know. I don't wanna get my hopes up too much."

"Sometimes you gotta take risks. Sometimes you gotta go out and claim what's yours."

"I don't even know if he's with someone. I don't even know if he's into guys, for God's sake!"

One thing Harry absolutely hated was not having the answers to his questions. And that included exams. Well, he could search his name on google to try and get some details on him, but he still preferred to believe he would tell him about his life himself.

"Well, if he's not into guys then you're his exception."

 

When Harry comes home Gemma is sitting on the couch, watching something on the TV with her boyfriend. Michal was a really nice guy, he didn't treat him differently when he found out he was gay. But, in spite of being the younger sibling, Harry still was a bit too overprotective over her sister.

"Hello." 

"Hi. How was your day?" Gemma asks from the couch. Well, from Michal's lap, to be more specific.

Harry lets his keys fall on the chiffonier next to the door.

"It was fine. And yours?"

He tries to be polite, but all he wanted to do was go film his video of the week and call it a day. He sometimes hated that he had to make some conversation not to come off as rude.

"Oh, the usual. We had to deliver our literature essays."

"How did it go?"

"I think it was good." She says as her lips take the shape of a smile.

"I'm sure it was fantastic." Michal said in reassurance. 

"Great. So, if you don't mind I'm gonna go to my room."

As soon as he is in his quiet room, he puts on a rand Pink Floyd album and lies on his bed, allowing the music to flood and absorb every thought on his mind. The steady, rock beat of the song so calming it made everything better. Wish You Were Here suddenly becomes his favorite song.

One week. Harry doesn't hear from him for one week. One terrible week, if he was honest. He was sure he had just failed his math test and his mom had started complaining from how all of his grades were going down and he should focus more on school. But a man with the most striking blue eyes always took his attention. Harry didn't know he could be so madly, deeply infatuated with a person he had just seen twice. It was ridiculous and shitty as hell. 

Liam's suggestion hadn't left his mind either. Every single day Harry debated with himself if picking up the phone to say 'Hi' would be a good idea or not. Louis was supposed to call him to arrange their next appointment anyway, so he decided to follow Liam's advice and take the initiative. As his grandma would say, "fortune favors the bold". He just hoped she was right. 

He picks up the phone and waits for Louis to pick up, every single ring making him the most nervous he's felt in a while.

Maybe he's working...

Maybe he's in the shower. Oh fuck. He must look so good naked...

"Hello?"

Double fuck.

Harry was kind of hoping no one would answer because that would be less nerve-wracking.

"Uh, hi. It's me, Harry... Styles."

Harry hears a soft chuckle from the other side of the line.

"Yeah, I know. You're name was written on the screen."

Louis really saved his number. But that wasn't a big deal, so he shouldn't make a big deal out of it.

"Finally calling to ask me out for a coffee?"

Harry thinks he didn't hear him right.

"What?"

"I asked if you were finally calling  to ask me out for that coffee you promised me."

His heart suddenly jumps out of his chest and collapses right in front of him. Since he no longer had a heart, he decided to use his brain.

"Actually no. I was calling to re-arrange my next appointment, if that's possible."

"Well, my agenda is full this week and the next one most likely too, so maybe I can only see you next month."

Was he really doing what Harry thought he was doing? 

"That's a shame, because I was indeed going to ask you out for a coffee or a tea, but since you're so busy I might as well not even bother you with this call. Have a great day, Mr. Tomlinson." He says and hungs up.

If Harry thought he had drove him mad? He did. If he was enjoying it? He was, probably more than he should. 

It only takes a minute for the phone to be ringing. Harry picks up with a satisfied grin on his face.

"I cancelled my 3 pm. appointment. Meet me at Costa."  

That's all he says this time. 

Harry smiles to himself, proud to have gotten a reaction from him. But the inner child inside of him is jumping around giggling because Louis Tomlinson had cancelled an appointment just to see him. If that was professional of them? No. But screw it.

Chapter Text

Songs:

Dark Paradise - Lana Del Rey

Begin Again - Taylor Swift

***  

Everything will be fine. I will be fine.

Harry plans on repeating this mantra until he calms himself down, but he doesn't. He just couldn't when he was going on a date. A freaking date! With the most beautiful man he's ever seen in his entire life - which also happened to be his sexologist, but that doesn't matter right now.

He finds himself walking around the room with an unsteady heart as he ponders what he should wear. He didn't want to dress up too much, because it would seem weird and like he was trying too hard - and would totally give him away -, but he didn't want to look like he just remembered he forgot to grab something from the grocery shop either.

His eyes glanced at the clock on his bedside table - he had over an hour, thankfully. He sighs in relief and walks over to his wardrobe. At least it wasn't going to rain that day, which was an ever bigger relief, because his curls could never behave under a slightly humid weather. As he scans through his garments the thought of calling Liam for help goes through his mind, but he quickly rejects it, for he knew Liam would ask too many questions and would make him even more stressed out and he just couldn't deal with that right now. He would tell him later about it. If it went well. He really hoped it would.

A light pink knit sweater and his only pair of white jeans - the ones he only wore in special occasions - is what he ends up picking out. He gets dressed in two seconds, at least that's what it seems to be when his mind can't stop thinking about finally seeing Louis again. He puts on his everyday white converse before he takes a look in the long mirror too see how he looked. He checks himself on both sides as he smiles in satisfaction. At least he managed to put on an outfit he thought would be suitable at the first try. He looked casual but cute at the same time, and that's exactly what he was looking for.

 He looked casual but cute at the same time, and that's exactly what he was looking for

He had no idea what to expect for their little date, though. He hoped they wouldn't talk about himself and his condition like Doctor-Patient, because this wasn't a professional date - not to him. He wanted to get to know the man behind the striking sea blue eyes and thin, manly lips. His lips... Harry really wanted to kiss them too. But that seemed a bit risky in his mind and might make everything even more awkward between them, so that wasn't probably the best idea.

Without realizing, he's sitting at the end of his bed with a hand over his crotch. His jeans were so tight on his lower region that it made him extra sensitive to the touch. A picture of Louis from the last time he saw him comes in his mind, a handsome curvy man under a perfectly-fitted grey suit, and he closes his eyes, grasping onto the beautiful sight while his hand starts moving up and down. He takes off his pants when it starts to hurt and works his right hand on his shaft while the left one cups his balls, skin on skin creating a soft friction. He starts imagining that it's Louis that's pleasuring him instead and it makes him rock hard sooner than he thought. He throws his head back when the movements become faster and his hand tighter around his cock, working himself up to his release.

"Oh, fuck... Louis." He moans out in a whisper. He didn't want his sister to hear him or come inside, because he had forgotten to lock the door.

He pictures Louis looking straight at him - even though what they were doing wasn't straight at all - with a smirk dancing on his lips like he knew he'd be coming in his hand sooner than later. His left hand comes up to caress his chest, fingertips brushing against his nipples making his little hairs bristle.

His head drops forward when his tummy clenches and he opens his eyes, watching the cum come out in jets and scattering all over his abs and chest. "Oh, Louis..." he sighs as he looks at all the cum, thinking how fast he came by thinking of him. Louis was a perfect sin. The perfect sin. 

He gets up to grab a tissue from his nightstand drawer and clean himself up before he was late to meet him. He didn't want to be late by any chance. He walks back to the mirror, pulling his light blue panties up along with his jeans and fixes his sweater and hair until everything is in its right place. He goes to the toilet to grab his tinted chapstick and put some on his lips until they're glistening. He thought it looked good on him and he didn't want to get chapped lips either. He takes one last look at himself in the mirror as an attempt to gain some courage.

"You can do this. Do not screw up."

He walks downstairs and his presence is immediately noticed as the sound of the TV was basically nonexistent. Gemma is still on her boyfriend's lap, but he's asleep. Her eyes fly right across the room to look at him, probably surprised to why he wasn't locked in his room the entire afternoon like he always did.

"I didn't know you had classes this 'noon."

"I don't. Liam invited me over to his house. He needs help with our homework, and since I haven't started doing it I figured we could help each other out and get it done faster." He says, standing by the staircase. "Is it okay if I go?"

"Yeah, sure. Just text or something if you're staying there for dinner."

"I don't think I will, though." He's quick to say, because they were just going to have a coffee and maybe chat for a bit and then he'd never seen him again for a wee... or a month.

The thought of rejection makes his chest hurt, but he said he wouldn't get his hopes up and he would stay firm to that

"Okay, have fun!"

Harry takes his sister's bicycle. He always did when he went to Liam's house, because he lived near them but not that near to go by foot. And so was the cafe. He was happy they were going to meet there because he didn't want to have to ask Gemma to drive him and he most certainly didn't want her to know he was going on a sort of a date... with his sexologist. That would be the worse.

At five to three he's locking his bike against a pillar in front of the cafe. He checks around to see if Louis is sitting in the tables outside, but he isn't, so he takes one last breath before he's walking in. He looks around to all the full tables and finds him sitting at the corner next to a window. Louis is doing something on his phone, so he doesn't see him staring at him in the distance.
Harry still couldn't believe he was supposed to sit down next to that man. Louis was wearing a purple polka-dotted shirt and black skinny jeans. His hair was still how Harry remembered but his stubble was growing bigger. Harry doesn't see his fingers stop moving so, without any warning, he is looking at him from across the room, catching him off guard.

 Harry doesn't see his fingers stop moving so, without any warning, he is looking at him from across the room, catching him off guard

Shit.

Harry smiles at him shyly, hoping he doesn't think he's a creep for staring. But, come on, who wouldn't? He sees Louis stand up as he walks up to him, and he's smiling brighter than ever, his eyes still locked on his own. He looked marvelous and it takes everything in Harry not to blush when he pulls him in for a hug, his hands applying light pressure on his back while his cheek brushes against his neck. Harry wanted to feel it everywhere on his body.
He pats his hand twice over his back, the second time slipping further down, before breaking the hug.

He was not expecting that.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hi." Is all he says and he was sure he was blushing already.

"It's great to see you again. How have you been?"

Should I be honest or not? Yes, because it would be totally normal to say everything was wrong in my life because I've missed my sexologist. Totally... not.

"I've been doing fine, thank you."

He doesn't say it was nice seeing him again too because nice didn't even cover how better he felt now that he was standing right in front of him. It was like the last puzzle piece that put the puzzle together. It was meant to be.

"It's good to hear that. Please sit down." Louis says and pulls out the chair in front his own for him to sit. He was greatly surprised by his manners and the fact that he didn't care that other people would see him do that.

Louis sits down and they stay silent for a moment. There was still some distance between them, but they were so close at the same time.

"So, do you know what you want yet?"

I want you.

Harry was confused by the sudden question. Louis seemed to noticed it because he turned to ask:

"Do you want a coffee, a tea...?"

Oh.

"Good afternoon. What is it gonna be?

A female voice is heard and it startles him. He hadn't noticed the waitress walking to their table. Louis looks back at him as if to tell him to order first.

"I'll have a mint infusion tea, please."

"And you, sir?"

The tan-skinned woman looks back at Louis and it seems like her smile turned from a polite smile to a real smile. Harry did not like that.

"A cappuccino for me." He says and smiled back at her. Harry wondered if they knew each other.

"Coming right away!"

"Thank you." Louis dismisses her and then they were alone again, surrounded by many people but alone. "Don't you like coffee?"

Harry was surprised by his question.

"I do. But I like it with milk and they don't have almond milk here so..."

Louis furrows his eyebrows intrigued.

"Oh. You don't drink regular milk? Are you allergic or something?"

The expression he had on his face made it look like he was worried and cared about him and that made Harry's heart beat faster.

"I'm not. I'm a vegetarian."

He thinks Louis is going to stay quiet or say something nasty about it like most people - including his ex - did, but he doesn't.

"That's nice." He says with half of a smile shaping his lips and it seems genuine. "I really enjoy almond milk with my coffee in the mornings. It's sweeter and lighter."

"It is." Harry agrees.

"So, your boyfriend is busy today?"

What?

Harry remembered he didn't know they had broken up, but it's not like he had to know.

"Yeah." He just says, not making up a better lie. It would have to do to stop him from asking him about his boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend, thankfully.

He sees Louis nod like he was thinking something and it made him a bit more nervous. He wanted to know what it was and he wanted to ask him about his boyfriend - or girlfriend -, but he holds back. It wasn't very subtle of him. But it also wasn't fair that Louis got to ask all the questions and he stayed quiet all the time.

Well, screw it.

"What about yours?"

Louis looks down at his hands that were lying on the table. He fiddles with his fingers for a brief moment, but Harry was sure he knew where he was going with that question.

"Harry I'm not gay." He says it before looking up at him.

Harry knew everything was going too well. He was never the lucky type. He didn't know why he led himself into believing that him and a man like Louis could ever be a thing.

"I'm sorry if I did something that made you think I'm maybe attracted to you, but I'm not. All I did was strictly professional, Harry.

The waitress interrupts them and it's right on time because otherwise Harry would be crying right now.

"There you go." She says as she places the hot drinks on the table. Louis thanks her again and Harry takes the chance to find the strength to keep himself together. He felt humiliated, but he wasn't going to take it.

He grabs his sugar bag and pours it all in his tea before refuting.

"I was not assuming you're gay or into me. In fact I am not attracted to you. You're my doctor. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea." He says like its the most obvious thing and goes for a sip at his tea while Louis looks at him rather offended.

Fuck him. Who the hell is he to assume I'm interested in him?! Just because he's pretty fucking beautiful doesn't mean everyone has to fall head over heels for him!

"Oh." He says. "That's... Good."

They drink half of their drinks in silence, absorbed in their thoughts and the conversations going on around them. Louis seemed rather off and distant after their little misunderstanding - that's wasn't really a misunderstanding because Harry was in fact attracted to him.

Louis is the one to break the silence, after taking in everything Harry'd said.

"Have you touched yourself today?" He asks as casually as ever and Harry is quick to remark:

"I thought this was supposed to be strictly professional."

Louis' eyes widen.

"Do you want more professional than this?"

"Well, we're not in your office so I don't think that's the right thing to talk about right now in the middle of so many people." He says and he means it.

"I'm just checking out on you."

Harry decides to play along and raises his eyebrow.

"What if I haven't, uh? What if I haven't touched myself today, Doctor?"

He sees Louis bite on his lower lip and letting it go before speaking.

"Well, that seems highly impossible, but I'd advise you to go to the toilet and do it."

"How could I get myself off if there's no one attractive in this room to jerk off to the thought of."

He swears he sees Louis' pupils dilate and his stare getting more intense.

"That's your problem."

Harry's thankful that his leg is long enough to brush against Louis' under the table. He sees him nearly jump on his chair but he doesn't stop him. So Harry goes further up.

"But you're my doctor. Aren't you supposed to help me with my problems?"

He's greatly surprised when Louis says:

"I'm going to pay for our drinks. Stay here. "

Louis stands up and Harry watches him walk over to the counter. He could tell he definitely worked out just by his legs. But his entire body was a masterpiece, so curvy and toned.

"Let's go." He says to him in a hurry as he grabs his black blazer from the back of his chair.

"Where are we going?" Harry asks, standing up.

"To help you with your problem."

Harry follows him out of the cafe with a racing heart and excitement taking over his body. He had no idea where they were going, but he was happy he had gotten his way.

He tries to keep up with Louis, but he's just too fast, so he ends up grabbing his hand to drive him in the right direction. And Harry absolutely loves it.

They stop in front of a black, Mercedes SUV in the parking lot and Harry wonders if he's going to take him somewhere.

"Get in the backseat."

Louis opens the car immediately and Harry gets in as he was told, sitting in the right, white plush seat. He wondered why he had to go in the backseat like a children when the passenger seat was empty, but he soon realized why when Louis opened the door next to him.

"Louis what are-" he said when he locked the car.

"Just shut up."

Louis grabs his neck and kisses him. It was desperate, slow, soft and rough, and Harry had never been kissed like that before. He doesn't do anything, just lets Louis take the charge. Out of the blue he remembered he had a handful of homework to do that afternoon, but he couldn't care less right now. He wanted him and apparently Louis did too. He was not going to screw up, not this time.

"On my lap." Louis said, sitting down and bringing Harry with him not to break the hungry kiss.

Harry straddled him and Louis moved one hand to the middle of his ass, pulling him closer so that there was no distance left between their bodies. Harry moans in pleasant surprise while Louis invades his mouth with his tongue. He tasted and felt so good that Harry wanted to remain like that for ever.

His hips automatically jerk forward when Louis attacks his neck, biting a lovebite on it. He hears him moan, so he does it again, and again.

"Harry... Slow down." He says and keeps on sucking another lovebite onto his skin.

"Weren't you the one in such a rush?"

Harry keeps on grinding against him with his hands around his neck, creating a delicious friction on their members, and this time he doesn't complain.

Louis only backs off when he notices they're both hard and uncomfortable with their jeans on.

"This is strictly professional." He makes sure to clear up before he's kneeling down in front of Harry, catching him completely by surprise. His hands come to his waist to unbutton his jeans and pull them down, revealing his wet blue panties.

This is it.

Harry knew this was the part when he was going to be rejected for good, just like he was by Ricky.

He sees Louis intensely staring at them, mouth dropped open like he was amazed.

"Fuck, Harry." He finally speaks up and looks up at him. Harry still wasn't sure if he had liked it or not. "Just.... Fuck."

The fact that Louis had just cursed two times in a row made him even more turned on.

"I never imagined... Well, I had my suspicions, but I just-"

Next thing he knows, Louis is mounting at his cock over the lace of his panties. Harry really wants to watch it because he knows he's got to be dreaming, but his head just falls back against the seat instead. When he licks over his tip he has to hold Harry firmly by his hips to keep him from wriggling.

"Louis..." Harry moans out, not being able to contain it anymore.

"Shh. Stay quiet." Louis says and keeps working his mouth and tongue on his cock. Only when he knows Harry's a heartbeat from coming he takes his panties off and finally wraps his mouth around his big, long cock.

"Oh god..." Harry moans, louder this time, and Louis hums in approval to his taste. He licks the underside of his cock and he has to tight his grip on Harry even more, as he just couldn't stay still.

"Still or I won't let you come." He says and Harry opens his eyes, surprised at his words.

He wouldn't dare... Would he?

He sees Louis go down on him while he keeps his eyes on his and there was literally nothing hotter than that in the world.

"L-Lou..." He stutters and Louis knows he was close to his release. So he jerks him off while his mouth comes down to his balls, licking and sucking them ever so sinfully. Harry immediately comes in his hand.

Louis grabs his handkerchief from his blazer pocket and wipes both of them clean. Harry is astonished looking at him, not believing what just happened. But he then snaps into reality.

"Do you want me to get you off as well?" He asks, and not like he had to but because he really wanted to.

"I've told you: I'm not gay."

Harry would say something about if if he hadn't said the exact same thing a few minutes before and they ended up like this.

Louis helps him put his jeans and panties back on and sits down next to him.

"Do you want me to drive you home?"

As much as he'd like, he couldn't leave his sister's bicycle in front of the cafe.

"No need to, thank you. I brought my bicycle."

"Okay then. See you next week." Louis says and leans in for one last kiss.

Chapter Text

Harry rides his bike home with unsettling butterflies inside of him causing him to smile for ten minutes straight. He felt such an overwhelming need to laugh and giggle and jump around. In that moment, it felt like everything was right in the world. Over him the sun was shinning again,  the sky was clearing and there was even music playing like in the movies. Everything was perfect in that one special moment. 

He leaves his sister's bike standing against the black steel fence, regretting taking a bike and not getting an uber, because he could've gotten a free ride home with the man of his dreams. But, at the same time, it had been better this way because he'd gotten some alone time to process all that happened instead of feeling like a burden to Louis. 

He couldn't help laughing when he remembered him saying he wasn't gay, but then he took him to his car and sucked him off like a sex God. But who was he to complain, right? When he licked his lips he still tasted him, his sweet, warm virility. He didn't know what it was but Louis had such an overpowering effect on him, even with all the "I'm not gay"s and the "I'm not attracted to you"s. He wanted to do that again and tomorrow and for the rest of his life, because, despite knowing Louis wasn't the man for him, he was the man of his life, and sometimes you can't fight your heart. Harry knew he belonged to him, even if there was a 0% chance of them ending up together. And until there was still decimals it was worth fighting for.

He locks himself in his room all afternoon trying to do his homework, but he ends up just thinking and reflecting. He was honestly surprised at the pace they were going. If someone had told him he'd get a blowjob from his sexologist - a.k.a The Most Beautiful Man Ever - the first time they'd go out he'd legit laugh at their face.The over-analyzing was driving him insane after a couple of minutes, but he didn't care. He was insecure and he didn't know if he wasn't jumping into conclusions about his feelings. He had never felt anything this intense for anyone, but maybe it was too soon to say that he was in love. He immediately shakes his head. No, he wasn't in love. He was incapable of being in love. It was probably just sexual attraction and sexual tension combined that made him desire Louis that bad. Rolling on his tummy, he grabs his phone to text Liam. The screen lights up and he accidentally clicks on the contacts button, finding Louis' name at the top of the list. He foolishly smiles to himself, remembering their conversation from earlier. The beautifully angelic sound of Louis' voice echoes in his head, making him curse his name because it wasn't fair someone sounding so perfectly over the phone too. He finds himself texting him instead. 

"It was nice to see you,  Dr. Tomlinson.  The tea was great, by the way. Hope your cappuccino was just as tasty. - Harry"

He immediately regrets his decision.

Oh shit... What have I done? I look like a desperate teenage girl texting her crush! He thinks to himself, but unfortunately there was no 'unsend' button.

His phone rings in a matter of seconds, stopping his racing heart.

"It was nice seeing you too. I'm glad you liked your tea. My cappuccino was delicious in fact. Very tasty and... creamy."

Are we still talking about beverages? 

He thinks about mocking his terrible innuendo, but he just wasn't capable of it. 

His phone rings again. 

"Oh, and you don't have to sign your name. I already told you I have your number saved on my contacts."

"Good to know. I have yours too."

Obviously. Why are you so stupid, Harry?!

"I know ;)"

A wink face... A FUCKING WINK FACE! Harry squeals, probably a bit too loud. His mind immediately travels to when Louis was between his legs. He had no idea how someone like him could ever like the fact that a teenage boy wore lace panties. It seemed ridiculous to him when he put himself in another people's shoes, that's why he understood why Ricky dumped him. But Louis never ceased to surprise him. 

Five minutes had gone by and none of them said anything else. Harry wanted to keep talking to him, but he didn't know what to say not to look desperate or annoying. He thought of asking him when was his next appointment, but that would turn out both desperate and annoying.

He suddenly remembers he'd forgotten to film his video of the week and decided to get on with it before he was even later. Setting his laptop in his bed, he middling adjusts his white bedspread and pillows. He walks over to his closet, thinking what he should dress up as this time. He chuckles when he sees his old sexy elf costume that he had worn last Christmas, remembering how ridiculous he looked on it. He takes out a pair of light grey knit high socks with lace details on top and strips down to his blue panties. This time he turns the camera towards the end of the bed, having in mind exactly how he'd get all of his hundreds of subscribers off. Climbing onto his bed, he reaches out for his notebook and pencil and stands before the camera with those items on hand. His hand brushes through his hair and he clicks 'Go Live' when everything is set.

A slow, sexy song plays in his head while his hips start moving at a slow pace and he stares down at his unfinished homework. When he looks up through his lashes he's biting his lower lip, watching as the number of watchers go up quickly as usual. 

"I've been trying to do my homework." He says in soft innocence. "But I can't stop thinking about you, Daddy."

He takes his pencil to his mouth and bites the rubber end seductively. As his hips start swinging faster, one hand travels to his chest to caress it. 

"Why are you doing this to me?" He asks to the camera, throwing the pencil onto the floor.

His remaining hand runs down his chest all the way to the hem of his panties while a finger starts brushing against his nipple.

"I want you."

His hand finally palms his needy erection through the fine, lacy fabric. Moving his cupped hand up and down, he pinches at his hard nipple and lets out a soft whimper.

"I need you." He says as his eyes shut close with an image of Louis between his legs appearing in his mind. He feels the warm desire pool on the most sensitive part of his body as he dances to the camera, rocking his hips from side to side. 

When the number on his screen reaches one million, he turns around and leans forward, giving them a nice view of him. Staring over his shoulder, he pushes the light blue fabric aside, completely exposing his hole. He imagines Louis is staring at him through the screen, so he pushes his bum even forward, feeling completely open and vulnerable. A shiver makes his hairs bristle at the thought of being watched by him. It should make him feel a bit ashamed or embarrassed, but it turns him on even more instead.

"Please, Daddy. I need you like crazy." He moans out, swinging his hips again. His thumb pokes against his entry, dry and teasingly,  threatening to make its way inside. He really wanted to be able to take it raw like this, because that's how he wanted Louis to take him if he was honest, but he just couldn't. 

Once his fingers are properly lubed up, he takes one all the way in while his other hand grabs his cock and starts working on it. He's able to take four fingers this time, feeling satisfactorily full and stretched out as he jerks off to the thought of Louis taking him on his own desk. He wanted him to fuck him so hard and mercilessly. He wanted him to bite his neck as he came inside of him, appropriating and claiming him. He wanted him. He needed him.

"Daddy!" He cries out like a child in need as he chases his orgasm.

The images are so realistic in his head that he doesn't take much longer to reach his high. His hand keeps working up and down his shaft as he feels his stomach clench ever so familiarly, coming undone with four hands on his hole and a delirious image of Louis rimming him against his desk. 

He manages to shut the lid of his laptop before he's falling headfirst onto the bed, tired and breathless, and maybe a little too sleepy. When he finally gathers the physical strength to take his hands out of himself he hears his phone buzz. He nonchalantly groans while he stretches his arm as far as he can not to move from place, imagining it was Liam asking him about his homework or his mum. Rolling his phone down next to him, he strenuously opens his eyes, coming face to face with a familiar name on top of his new message.

"You're next appointment is this Tuesday after school. Don't be late xx".

He wants to see me next week. Holy cow.

Chapter Text

Video of the chapter


 

 

 

                                                                         

 

 

He's a question from finishing his homework when Liam texts him.

"Still coming 2 the party tonight right?"

Harry rolls his eyes, knowing he wouldn't give up even if he had to drive to his house to pick him up in his pajamas to the damn party. He was the most stubborn person he knew, after himself. He was the kind of person to text you and call you non-stop until they get so but so annoying you'd be willing to do what they wanted just to shut them up. And that's exactly what he did when he got no response.

"Plz tell me ur coming!! You can't believe who's gonna be there!"

Liam was kind of a nerd, but a cool nerd. He always got invited to parties because he'd help the popular guys with whatever they needed school-wise, like doing their homework, essays, but he got a fair amount of money out of it so it was a win-win situation. Harry always thought girls were attracted to him not only because of his intelligence but also from his boy-next-door look. He had it all - the brains, the cuteness, the body, the perfect family - and dog - and the serious relationships. His most recent one was with a senior girl. Her name was Danielle. She was two years older - guess he always had a thing for older women -, tall, olive skin and very curly brown hair. From what Liam told him they only broke up because she decided to go to University in France to peruse her dream of becoming a professional dancer. Danielle really was a sweet, mature and talented girl. She was the perfect girlfriend and it was really a shame, because they seemed meant to be.

"Let me guess... Becky?"

Harry rolls his eyes at the screen, waiting for his phone to buzz with his reply.

"Not only ;) There r rumors the new teacher is coming 2!"

"What?! Mr. Malik?"

It didn't make any sense to him. Why would a teacher get invited to a house party full of drunk and horny teenagers? That couldn't end up well.

"Yeah. Weird innit?"

"Isn't that a bit risky? I mean there's probably gonna be dozens of underage students drinking and smoking... He's probably gonna tell the cops!"

A notification that he had a new e-mail pops up on top of the screen. He taps over it and gets directed to his Gmail. The message said: Horny4JStyles left a comment on your Video of The Week. He scrolls down to read the comment but Liam's reply comes up before he can even start reading it.

"If I was u I wouldn't worry much about it. He's cool from what I've heard and I'm sure Oliver has it all under control. He wouldn't let any teacher into his house party."

Yes. He was probably worrying about things that didn't even affect him.

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

A new message arrives in a matter of a few breathless seconds.

"So that means you're coming?!!"

Harry's lips quiver in a smile, realizing that Liam had just won him over again. But he had convinced himself that this would be good for him as well, to get of of his house and have some fun. He used to go out at night all the time when he was dating Ricky, but since their split he's stuck to his comfy bed instead. He just hoped Ricky wasn't invited.

"Yes... I'll be there."

Liam sends him a happy face emoji and then there's a sudden knock at his door.

"Yes?"

Gemma peeks through the door, long golden locks swaying around like she's analyzing her surroundings before deciding if she could walk in or not. Harry nods at her affirmatively.

"A package with your name just came in." She says, walking up to him with a small card box in hand.

Harry rolls off the bed excitedly, already knowing what it was. He was glad Gemma wasn't the snoopy kind of sister and never opened his mail or anything that only had his name on it.

"Thank you." He says, quickly grabbing hold of it. His sister quirks one eyebrow in his direction.

"A gift from Wigan, hun?"

Harry fidgets with the little envelope attached to one side of the package, waiting for her sister to leave so that he could open it in private.

"Yeah. It's from an old friend."

He hopes to have sounded convincing enough, but her face didn't change with his reply.

"Alright then." She starts stepping away, but not taking her eyes off of him just yet. "Enjoy your mysterious gift."

Harry didn't care if she had believed it or not. He only didn't want anyone to know that he was getting spoiled by his staunch subscribers. Well, Jack Styles'.

She is almost out of the bedroom when she stops hesitantly.

"One more thing." She says, an intrigued expression taking over her dainty fairy features. "How are your sessions with Dr. Tomlinson going?"

Crap.

No, it wasn't being crap. At all. It was actually being quite good. Too good, for his own sake.

"Normal, I guess." He simply says, shrugging one shoulder casually. He sounded pretty believable in his opinion, but Gemma didn't stop just there.

"Hm. So what kind of exercises do you do?" She asks, burying her hands inside the pocket of her light wash jeans. "In general? You don't have to go into details."

"Just talking and some..." Harry pauses, thinking of the best way to put it into words without giving it away. "... Specific exercises."

Gemma nods her head as if she's processing his answer. "Alright. Is it going well? Do you notice any changes?"

Oh yeah. You don't even want to know how big they are.

"Not much yet. But he's really..." He hurriedly stops himself, realizing what he was about to say.

Nice. Beautiful. Bloody hot.

"Professional." He says and he has to hold back the curves of his lips from turning up when Louis' voice plays in his head. This is strictly professional.

Once again, and for the second time that day, he has flashbacks to their little meeting. He remembers his deft, bony fingers sweet and tightly wrapped around him. He wanted to feel those beautiful fingers inside of him, curving and aiming towards that one spot. And, God, didn't he want him to put his devilish tongue inside of him...
The fervent longing for something he probably would never have costs him a twitch down there.

"I'm glad to hear that. Wouldn't expect any less from such a reputed man. So, what is he like?"

A smirk makes its way into his sister's lips along with an unsettling flick of her eyebrows. Harry new what she was implying. She always did that same irritating face when asking if he had a crush on a certain person. It was ridiculous but she still managed to make his cheeks heat up.

Dammit.

"He's... okay?" This vague answer was the best he could come up with that made him sound indifferent to Louis.

"Just okay?" Gemma squints her eyes as she cocks her head slightly to the side.

Not convinced.

He's rolling his eyes and groaning in frustration on the inside.

"Yup." He nods, managing to keep his lips in a straight line despite his flushed complexion. "We've been getting along well so far."

"Come on, Harry. Give me the dish. How is he physically?"

Gemma folds her arms in front of her chest, clearly starting to get impatient.

"He's about twenty-five to thirty. Not much older than you."

And then it clicked him. He was likely the type of guy Gemma would have a crush on. She never dated younger guys and always went for the brunettes. Harry thanked God she was with Michal.

"Brown hair, blue eyes." He proceeds. "He's quite pretty and rugged for his age." Harry catches himself saying and curses his impetuous mouth. "I guess..."

"Do you find him attractive?" Gemma doesn't even hesitate.  Her voice comes out more in an excited way rather than in a questioning tone and Harry has to fight the urge to turn around so that she couldn't see his cheeks burning furiously.

His heart pounds in his chest.

"He's not my type, Gemma. And I'm underage."

"Not for long."

"Cut it off, please." Harry fakes annoyance as he speaks, but what he doesn't let out is how nervous he's feeling inside. "Yes, he's a very attractive men, okay? But I'm not interested."

That was harder than he thought. Even more because he was never a good liar, although he would have to admit he did pretty well this time.

Gemma sighs almost as in defeat.

"Okay, then. Enjoy your..." She nods her head towards the box he was still holding. "Gift."

He waits until she's out and shut the door behind her before sighing in relief, just in case she wouldn't remember asking anything else. When he's alone at last he hurriedly opens the small white envelope attached to the package. It read:

Dear, Mr. Jack Styles.

Hope you're doing very well. My name is Matthew and I'm a huge fan of yours. You're my favorite camboy of all time and you always make me come harder than with any other kind of porn. Along with this note I send you a special gift that I'd like you to use on one of your next videos. Thank you and never quit doing this because you're a very talented and beautiful boy.

A smile lights up Harry's face. His fans - if he could call those people that - always managed to make him laugh or feel better in any other way.
He unravels the little bow around the four edges of the box and he comes face to face with something rather odd. Inside there's a buttplug. But not any buttplug: a glittery pink buttplug with a long furry tail at the end that resembled a cat tail. It was weirdly pretty to him and it looked like it might've costed a nice couple of pounds.
Harry lays his new gift on the bed and gets on his phone to check if the person that had sent him an email matched the same that sent him that package. It did.

By now I hope you've received my package. Hope you liked it sweetheart. ;)
Mathew Wellington

He smirks at the winking face while he thinks of his is reply.
Harry didn't have his personal email public, but he had created one for his watchers that insisted on sending him gifs and letters. It was nice to have that support and be spoiled from time to time. He had never received anything creepy or disgusting - thankfully - so there had been no problem about giving them his address so far.

I have, indeed. Thank you very much, Matt. It was really nice of you and I certainly will use it very soon.
Yours truly,
Jack Styles

When he's about to lock his phone he remembers he had no idea what time the party started, so he decides to ask Liam.

What time is the party? You're picking me up right?

After sending the message he drops his phone onto the bed and goes downstairs to grab something to eat before he had to get ready for said party. His mom is cleaning the kitchen counter when he walks in.

"Hey, darling." She says as soon as she notices him.

Harry walks behind her, not forgetting to give her a kiss on the cheek, to grab a banana from the fruit bowl next to the fridge.

"I'm going to a party tonight." He tells her and wonders if he shouldn't have rephrased it into a question instead.

"A party, Hun?" She glances over her shoulder at Harry, who was resting against the counter beside her.

"Please tell me I can go. I promised Liam I'd go with him."

Harry takes the first bite on his halfway peeled banana as his mum stares at him like she's considering his request.

"Is he picking you up?"

Harry nods affirmatively.

"And where's the party?" She asks, her face softening as the words that come from Harry please her.

"At a friends' house, Oliver." He takes a bigger bite on the ripe banana before proceeding. "Everyone from my class is going and basically half of our school. Also, our new teacher is going too, so there's going to be adults there."

He sees Anne frown her brows.

"A teacher is going?"

She stops brushing the damp cloth against the white marble countertop, suspiciously staring back at him.

"Yes. That's what Liam told me. Please, can I go?"

"Yes, you can." She sighs dramatically, her half smile growing into a grin when Harry makes the happiest face she's seen in a while. "But you have to promise me you'll be home by midnight."

"I will. Don't worry." He folds the peel in his hand and jumps up to his mom. "Thanks, mum. You're the best." He wraps his arms around her neck and kisses her cheek again.
Anne kisses him back on the forehead, a fond smile getting to her eyes.

He gets ready ready in less than an hour, which was surprisingly fast, giving the fact that he was going out to a party where all of the students in his year would be at. Liam told him he'd be picking him up at nine and the party would start at eight. They had nothing else to do in the meantime, so they could've been there at eight of they wanted to, but with experience they'd learnt that it's far too embarrassing and desperate to be at a party at the time it starts.

His black, sheer button-up shirt falls too low on his hips, making him realize he's probably dropped a couple of pounds since school started. It was normal for him. School was stressful and he was the type of person who forgot to eat when busy or sad. Or even anxious, which he has been since the day he met Louis. But, at the same time, he didn't like it because he was always too thin for his height and he had absolutely no curves in his body to make up for it. He was like a white paper sheet, too pale and slim. Unlike Louis.

                                                                                     Louis was the ideal man         

Louis was the ideal man. He wasn't too tall, or too short; his body was full of curves, starting from his narrow hips down to his big butt; his skin was gently kissed by the sun at all times and he had a few muscles that were visible from his tight-fit clothing, making him touch the athletic type.
He was the perfect man to him and they were complete opposites.

Brushing any intrusively negative thoughts aside, he scans his easily-put together outfit, starting from his low cut blouse that revealed most of his chest to his always-flawless white converse.
He's throwing a long beige trench coats on top when Liam rings him.

"I'm outside." Liam says from the other line.

"Okay. I'll be down in a minute."

He applies one last coat of his protective tinted lip balm and hurries downstairs. He never liked making people wait for him.

"I'm leaving mum. Bye!" He raises his voice loud enough to be heard wherever she was.

"Bye, honey. Have fun!"

                                                                            He gets inside Liam's dark blue Mini Cooper waiting by the curb at the front of his house

He gets inside Liam's dark blue Mini Cooper waiting by the curb at the front of his house.

"Damn. That's what I call an outfit!" He shouts before Harry even gets to sit down, staring at him with eyes wide open.

"Shut up, Lima."

"No. You really dressed to impress." He says while starting the engine. "Too bad your sexy Doctor won't be there."

Harry fiddles with the seatbelt, blocking it halfway through as he thinks about Louis for the millionth time that day.

"Don't mention it." He replies, half sarcastically half seriously.

They drive to the house where the party would be held at with Leona Lewis singing to them the entire time. Liam had this weird obsession with her and he even said he would marry her one day, to which Harry replied that that could've been true if Danielle hadn't broken up with him. Of course Liam kicked him in the nuts afterwords, but a day later he was taking to him like normal again.

They stay mostly silent during the ride because Liam didn't like people speaking - or even singing - on top of the art that was Leona singing. So Harry took shelter on the pretty evening sunset that took over the sky and painted it in a peachy pink color. He then focus on the blurry silhouettes of people going on about their day and probably wishing they were doing something else instead at that time. Well, he himself wished he was doing something else instead too, like watching a show or reading a book in his bed because he would have to wake up early tomorrow morning. But there he was, getting dragged into a party he was sure would be boring as hell.

The car only stops by a light grey brick tiled mansion that had its huge automatic gate open. There were lots of teenagers already there when they arrive, most of them drinking from red plastic cups near the big backyard pool.

They walk through the yard, seeing some familiar faces on the way.

"If you see Becky tell me immediately." Liam says.

"I don't even know what she looks like."
Harry looks at him for the first proper time and his mouth falls open when he notices he was wearing a black leather jacket for the first time in his life.

"Whoa... That a jacket! All for Becky, uh?"

Liam blushes and it's the most adorable thing Harry has seen all week.

"She's about 5'5 , long brown hair, very tanned skin..."

"You really have a type!" Harry interrupts him, getting back Liam's famous done-for-life eye roll.

They stop in front of the open large glass doors.

"Anyway. I'm gonna stay here in case she hasn't arrived yet."

"Okay. I'm gonna get a drink then. Do you want anything?"

"Coca-cola."

"Coming right away! Anything else?"

"Yes. If you see her tell me I'm here. But don't make it too obvious."

"Will do." Harry says and gets inside. He ends up in a big living room full of people circling the tables with drinks, fast food and appetizers. There was an annoying EDM song playing like they were in some kind of club, but he wasn't surprised at all. It was the type of music everyone his age seemed to listen to; the "cool" music. Well, at least it was what all the popular teens killed their ears to.

Most of the jocks he knew were inside, dancing and chatting with pretty girls with revealing garments who were probably their girlfriends. He finds a few people from his class who say hi to him when he squeezes through the bodies in order to get their drinks. He successfully manages to get a cup with Sprite and another with Coca-Cola and goes back outside, where the music wasn't so loud.

His eyes widen when he finds Liam with a girl who was about 5'5, long brown hair and very tanned skin. He coughs when he comes up to them.

"Sorry to interrupt. Here's your drink, Lima." He smirks as he hands him his red cup, knowing that name would make him blush with embarrassment.

"Erm, Becky, this is Harry, my best friend."

He sees Liam squint his eyes at him when she isn't looking.

"Oh, Harry." She politely smiles at him, unraveling her Angelina Jolie lips. "Nice to meet you."

"You too." Harry nods his head, figuring she wouldn't give him a hand shake or anything. "So, I'm gonna go back inside. Have fun."

He hears a "you too" coming his friend"s lips while he's awkwardly walking away, trying to figure out what to do until Liam decided it was time for them to leave. That party wasn't his cup of tea - maybe because there wasn't any cups of tea - and he was starting to get bored already.

When he's scanning through the room he finds an empty spot on the big couch at the end of the living room and decides to sit on it to go on his phone, since the people there were watching football and he was never keen of that sort of sport. It was almost ten o'clock, meaning he only had to put up with it for two more hours tops. It He checks his emails, the weekly stats of his blog - that was getting more and more views by the day -, and he even goes on Facebook to see what his family and friends had been up to these couple of days.

When he looks up, the part was filling like crazy and there was now people grinding on each other in an improvised dance floor. It's all boring, still. All boring until he sees a familiar face walk in through the doors.

Everyone stops to look while Mr. Malik joined the party. Most likely because he looked like he had came out of a movie with his hair in a big, bulky quiff and his daunting outfit. He had a cigarette lit in one hand and kept the other inside his black skinnies. He looked like the epitome of a mysterious bad boy, and definitely younger than Harry remembered.

Mr. Malik's eyes find his in the middle of the crowd as he takes the first sip of his drink and Harry wasn't expecting what he does next. At all.

"Hi, Harry." He says, sitting down on the opposite couch and being joined by a few other students.

Harry wonders how he still remembered his name.

"Hello, Mr. Malik." He smiles at him, polite yet weekly.

"Call me Zayn."

Harry nods, watching the man lean back against the white padded sofa and enjoying his suspicious cigarette. He wondered why Zayn was here while he kept his eyes on his phone, pretending to be busy, casually taking the black straw to his lips from time to time. Probably looking forward to looking cool.

Harry couldn't care less, though. The only thing he really wanted to know was if he was friends with Louis or not. But he was interrupted by a ginger guy before he got the chance to ask.

"Mr. Malik! I'm glad you came."

Zayn doesn't correct him and Harry finds that really weird.

"Oliver." He acknowledges the guy wearing adidas from head to toe. It looked like he was in a catalog, promoting the brand so much. Harry found his ridiculous, but asked himself if he was earning money for it.

"Are you enjoying the party so far?" Oliver says, putting his red cup down on the table.

"I am, yes. Do you wanna sit?"

Zayn takes out a credit card from his pocket and Oliver sneakily smiles.

"Sure."

Harry got very confused for a moment. Does Zayn owe him money? Are they making some sort of bet?

Everyone else that was sitting next to him got closer when a plastic bag containing a white powder was placed on the big coffee table in front of them.

Oh... Oh.

"Do you wanna join us, Harry?" Zayn asks and he could swear he didn't hear him right.

This can't be happening.

Harry feels a sudden urge to just leave.

"No, I'm fine." He says, unsure if he wasn't sounding too much like a good boy and wouldn't get mocked for it. "Thanks though."

He he really needed to pee, so he decides to check for a toilet upstairs. As he stands up from his seat he sees the white powder being spread over the table next to Zayn's heavy smoky cigarette while about fifteen people gathered around it. He was sure that was illegal.

When he crosses the living room, heading towards the large wood stairs by the drink tables, he notices a familiar song playing through the speakers. It takes him two seconds to realize it was "Party Monster" by The Weeknd. He had heard it a couple of times on the radio before.

There's a couple making out in the hallway upstairs and he quickly turns his head away. If it was two men making out instead he probably wouldn't mind at all. He walks past them in search for the bathroom, but all the door were white and closed. So he took a shot and opened the first one, finding another couple grinding on each other who shut the door in his face as soon as they saw him.

Ew. If I see another hetero couple I'll throw up.

He was about to go downstairs and ask Oliver where the bathroom was when he turned the knob of the next door, finding exactly was he was searching for.

Thank God.

That bathroom was considerably small and had two toilets, which he found very unusual. It also had no showers or bathtubs, meaning it was for made for the guests and anyone who just needed a to have a quick wee. Like him.

Since there was nothing better to do and the music coming from downstairs was deafeningly loud at this point, he goes searching for an empty room. Which he would find if he was really lucky.

He opts for the furthest door at the end of the hall, guessing people would be too lazy to walk down the hallway to find a room to make out in. His guess is proven correct because the room was in fact empty and dark, which was just perfect. He shit the door closed and sits down on the bed, letting his head fall against the headboard. He closes his eyes for a moment, thinking if he took a nap he'd be woken up by Liam and finally go home. But he can't. So he does what he always did when he was bored: watch porn.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens his most visited website to date: Pornhub Gay. It would seem completely depraved to other people if they found out he's had an account for over three years now, but it wasn't to him. He was initiated in the sex world at a very young age when he was watching tv in his room and a +16 movie came up. He was only twelve at the time, but he got so turned on from the sex scenes he started touching himself. After that he did some research on the subject, but always found himself bothered by the female genitalia. In the bad way. The men, otherwise, were always his focus and the reason why he started questioning his sexuality as the years went by. The hot fucking men...

He scrolls through the recent videos, but non of them look interesting enough. He knew he was needing something... Specific. Something that always made him the hardest in the least amount of time. He types down "rimming" and clicks the search button. His choice ends up being one of the top videos.

He turns the volume up just enough as it starts playing. The background is a school's locker room, where a tall, blonde teenager is. He always liked a video with some kind of plot, not just fucking from the very first second. The guy is starting to undress when an older, thirty-something man comes in dressed in a coach uniform. He walks up to the younger boy, who's has already covered his torso with his shirt.

"Take this off too." He says, placing his hand on the blonde's groin, prompt starting to massage it through the thin fabric of his shorts. He hesitantly does as told and removes his sports shorts, revealing his jockstrap.

The coach smirks at him, eyes fixed on his bulge.

"Turn around." He says and the blonde guy obeys, flashing his bubble butt exposed by the jockstrap he was wearing.

The man pushes him against the locker, holding him by the hips as he slips his his underwear off.

Harry starts palming his bulge, feeling himself grow in his pants while the older guy buried his face between the blonde's cheeks. When the boy starts moaning Harry has to unzip his own pants and take his cock out, keeping his balls covered. His hand moves up and down his semi-erection in slow, steady movements so that he would take longer to come.

"Oh fuck." The blond moans out, resting his forehead against the grey lockers. "You feel so fucking good."

Harry wanted someone to eat him up too. He hadn't been rimmed since he went to a gay club and the guy spent half an hour eating his ass. He needed it. Now.

"Fuck." Harry exhales, feeling the heat pool down there while his gaze is stuck on the brunette eating the boy up like his life depended on it.

He's about to finger himself when he hears a knock at the door.  Fuck.

He puts his cock back inside and zips his jeans at a lunatic speed. He waits for the second knock to reply, but that doesn't happen. The door is opened while he's trying  to mute the video that was still playing loud enough for anyone to understand what he was doing.

His stomach drops when he looks up. He feels his heart pounding in his chest, so hard it felt like it would rip its way out. And he feels himself freeze as the crimson red of his cheeks burned before the his gaze. Louis' gaze. He was completely bewildered.

"Wha- what are you doing here?" He stutters in trepidation and he knew he looked just like a kid after breaking his parents' rules. Because he knew he was in trouble. He felt it on his skin.

Louis stands in front of him by the end of the bed, eyes flaming with something Harry deduced was desire. Or maybe intrigue, he wasn't sure.

                                                                                  He looked different, younger

He looked different, younger. Maybe because he was not wearing a button-up shirt and blazer. He had on a burgundy sweater that made the turquoise blue of his eyes pop out as well as enhance his biceps. His hair, otherwise, was as he was used to see - sculpted in a perfect quiff but thrown back with gel instead. He looked absolutely marvelous, and the dim lighting coming through the big windows didn't help at all.

                                                                               He looked absolutely marvelous, and the dim lighting coming through the big windows didn't help at all

Louis remains like this, without saying a word, while the video kept playing from behind Harry's back. If the audible moaning coming from his phone didn't give him away, the tent in the middle of his legs more certainly did.

"What are you doing here?" Louis finally says, defyingly quirking an eyebrow. 

Harry feels the color on his cheeks take over his entire face and, fuck, he was still horny as hell.

"I-I..." He can't seem to find any words. His brain had frozen too and his mouth had ran dry like he hadn't hydrated in days.

"It's funny how you act so innocent and shy" Louis climbs over the bed, moving on top of Harry on his fours. "... when we both know the slut you really are." 

Harry thought he had fallen asleep. Louis couldn't be here, alone in a bedroom with him, in the same bed, talking dirty like this... He was definitely dreaming.

Suddenly Louis is close. Too close for him to think properly. His scent was intoxicating - sweet and woody with a faint trace of smoke. Harry wondered if he smoked too. But all his attention was stolen by his growing stubble. It looked smooth and rough all at once and Harry was dying to reach out and feel it against him again.

Louis' tempting lips take the shape of a smirk as his face is only mere centimeters away from his and, for a brief moment, Harry thinks he was going to kiss him.

God. Please.

"Or am I lying?"

Without him even realizing, Louis sneaks his hand behind his back and snatches his phone from his hand.

Dammit.

Harry stands there, dazed and helpless while Louis stares at the screen with a curious expression on his face. He hears him hum in approval before the sound stops and Louis looks up at him.

"So, is this what you get yourself off to?"

"Mm-mm." He nods his head, feeling his Adam's Apple jolt in his throat with every breath the man took that hit his skin.

"I see..."

A shivers inevitably runs through his spine when Louis' hand touches his cheeks, soft and tenderly. And his eyes are fiery ice, looking at him like no one as ever looked before.

"We're not supposed to do this." He warns him, even though he was dying to do anything Louis wanted.

"It's part of my study. I'm just doing my research in order to come to a conclusion faster." His face leans forward to whisper on his ear. "This is strictly professional."

Harry doesn't fight himself anymore and tangles his fingers on the short hair at his nape. Louis puts one leg on each of his side and goes for his neck instead, kissing and biting on it. In his memories Louis didn't feel as good as he was feeling right now that he was with him. In front of him, sitting on his lap,

But Harry new they couldn't. At least they shouldn't, if they didn't want to end their day in jail. So he pulls Louis' hair, trying to get him to stop his delicious torture. But it doesn't work. Instead, Louis sucks harder, bruising his skin purple. A moan comes out of Harry's mouth, but he quickly comes back to his senses.

"We can't do this here." He says, pulling him off once and for all. "If someone finds us you can end up in jail!"

Louis just blinks at him, his lips wet and plumper, covered in evidence.

"I think the cops would be too busy downstairs to even come up here." Louis lightly laughs. He grabs Harry's face and forces him into a desperate kiss until he completely surrenders to the heavenly brush of his lips against his own.

Louis starts moving on his lap, feeling his hard-on against his lower parts. Harry's hands irrationally come down to his waist, but they're promptly snatched away and pinned over his head.

Harry seemed to moan at every dominating move from his part, so Louis had an idea. He wanted it and he knew Harry did too.

"Do you want me to eat you up?"

Chapter Text

 

                                                                          Louis-centric 

 

Louis-centric

 

 

(A few hours before the party)

 

That afternoon was becoming the dullest he's ever had in a while. Sitting on the same plush leather chair for over three hours, Louis started wondering if he got bored of his job because all that kept knocking on his door were cases of women who couldn't orgasm or couples with mismatched sexual drives. His mind couldn't help drifting to the most interesting case he's ever had: Harry. He had never seen anyone like him - so innocent yet so dirty. The times he had to fight himself not to call him that day were endless because, even though he'd probably never admit it, he loved spending some extra time with him. He just wish he could clear his agenda and fill it all with Harry's name. But that was wrong. So fucking wrong. He knew it; he knew it wasn't professional and he wasn't like that. But his body was just so...

Dammit Tomlinson. He's underage!

That day had turned to a constant battle with and within himself because it wasn't just his body that drove him so crazy, but his personality too. And that was even worse. Harry was a tease and he felt the need to punish him good and hard. He was innocent-looking and that made him want to corrupt him even more, teach him about his world and things that he probably had never heard of. But he felt the need to love the enchanting boy with the emerald green eyes that tantalized him in his dreams ever since he met him.

Kissing him was probably the most incorrect thing he could've done. But who could resist him? His plump, strawberry lips were begging to be kissed. His body was begging to be touched. Despite how rational he was, no one in his right mind would resist to the heavenly sin that Harry was.

In this battle of urges against reason, he was the key to the lock. He was the only one who could choose to remain his professional self or open his prison cell.

He spins on his chair, making it turn over four times. His mind was going in circles and it wouldn't stop until he took a decision. And he knew what the right thing to do was.

His hand grabs his desk, causing the chair to abruptly stop spinning, when his phone buzzes on his pocket. He cursed himself, but he cursed him too, because Harry wasn't making it any easier for him.

"It was nice to see you, Dr. Tomlinson. The tea was great, by the way. Hope your cappuccino was just as tasty. - Harry"

He felt his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he read his message. He knew exactly what he was implying.

So that's the game you want to play, Mr. Styles...?

"It was nice seeing you too. I'm glad you liked your tea. My cappuccino was delicious in fact. Very tasty and... creamy."

He licks his lower lip as he smiles to himself, aware that he would get the compliment. He wouldn't lie to himself: He didn't regret blowing him in the backseat of his car. He was thick and surprisingly long, and tasted amazing above it all.

When he re-reads the message he notices Harry had signed his name at the end.

"Oh, and you don't have to sign your name. I already told you I have your number saved on my contacts."

Someone knocks at his door. Louis looks up, finding his receptionist peering through the door.

"Dr. Tomlinson?"

Amelia was the receptionist everyone dreamed of. She was professional, effective, good-looking and insanely loyal. Well, with the amount of money he paid her every month she had no excuses not to be.

"Yes, Amelia?" He asks and he hears his phone buzz again.

For God's sake, Harry!

"You're next patient is here. Should I send her in?"

He lets out a sigh escape from his lips while his fingers tap on the black screen of his iPhone, dying to see what he had replied.

"Please do." He says with a polite smile, trying to conceal his jaded state.

Amelia nods her head submissively and leaves.

He quickly unlocks his phone to see what Harry had texted him.

"Good to know. I have yours too."

His face muscles start working again and he wondered how Harry had his number saved as. Part of him wished he had it saved as 'Louis' but it was probably just 'Dr. Tomlinson'. But that didn't mean he liked him. He didn't. It was purely unresolved sexual tension that he had build up ever since he stopped going out to clubs with Zayn.

His appointments for the day finish at a half past six. Gathering his stuff, he thinks about driving by Domino's to get a pizza for his early dinner so that he didn't have to cook. He was too exhausted to do so, physically and mentally. His muscles were still sore from the gym and all he really wanted was a massage and a relaxing bath before calling it a day. He grabs his briefcase with all his papers inside and heads to the parking lot at the ground floor of the building.

"Until tomorrow, Amelia." He says when he walks past the reception area.

"Have a good day, Dr. Tomlinson."

When he finally gets to his Mercedes he has a missed call from Zayn. He dials his number, leaving him on speaker as he starts his car.

"Louis." Zayn says from the other line.

"Yes?"

"How are you, mate?"

"Just finished work. And you?"

He exits the parking lot, entering the ever-full roads of London.

"Just chillin' at home."

"As usual. Well, how's Harry doing?"

"He's doing great. At my class at least. We have our teachers reunion next friday, so I can only tell you for sure by then."

At this point the speed he's driving at becomes annoying and he just wants to beep at everyone.

"Okay."

"Are you seriously still thinking this is the best?"

"I do. I care for him..."

"I'm sure you do."

"... but I don't have the courage to ask him about his personal stuff. I just, don't want to get to involved.

"I think you're contradicting yourself a little bit, Mr. Teenage Stalker."

"How?"

"Well you didn't think twice when you got him in your car alone and kissed him and sucked his d-"

He immediately regretted having told Zayn about their meeting.

"I don't anymore, okay? I told myself I will keep everything exclusively professional from now on."

"Good luck on that. But that's too bad because I had an invitation to make that you'd like."

"Like what?"

"We're going to a party tonight. A student's party to be more specific."

"Me? At a party full of teenagers?!"

"Yes. And what's more, you'll like it."

"How could I ever-"

"Harry's going too."

Fuck.

"What?"

"Yes. I told my students that I would come because apparently there would be no adults at the party. And so Harry is coming too."

"How do you know?" He asks, finally turning to take the A4202.

"I have my sources."

"Mm-mm. So what are you gonna do there? There can't be no alcohol there."

"Don't worry. We're both gonna have a lot of fun."

"I never said I was going."

"You don't have to. If you're not dressed when I drive by your house me myself will drag you to that party in whatever garments your're wearing. Or not wearing."

"Yeah sure. And I will have my alarm on."

He really wasn't in the mood for parties, even as fun as they would be. But there was a tiny part of him that needed to go and protect him. Just the thought of imagining Harry with another kid made his fist clench and his entire body tense. But he would have to fight that preposterous urge.

"Zayn, I had a long tiring day so I'm just gonna go to bed early."

"You can still go to bed early. The party starts at eight. Wear something decent."

At eight?

Louis opens his mouth to ask if he was serious, but Zayn had already hang up. He takes a deep breath as he stops on the red light, resting his head back on the seat. He opts for calling Domino's to deliver his pizza at home instead because he just couldn't handle the stressful traffic any longer.

When he finally gets home he calls out for Emma. She was an incredibly smart cat and always came rub against his legs when he got home. He grabs her after she does so and pets her tabby, soft fur.

"Hello my love."

He nuzzles his head against her before putting her down, earning a hysterical meow.

"Are you hungry, baby? Daddy's gonna give you your dinner."

He walks to the kitchen being followed by his cat and gets her special salmon dry food from the top shelf of the cabinet. He fills her half-empty golden feeder.

"Here you go."

He rubs her head affectionately one last time before heading to his room. He needed a long, long bath.

Walking through his en-suite, he turns the faucet on, letting the oval tub fill up while he grabbed a clean pair of boxers and his laptop. Once the water is at the perfect temperature, he throws a bath bomb inside and places his MacBook on the wooden tray over his bathtub. When the tub is completely full he turns the heating on and strips off, leaving his clothes on top of the toilet.

He ends up catching up with Gogglebox, trying to relax and not think too much about the day he had. Half-way through the episode there's a notification saying he had a new e-mail. He clicks on it and it was from 'Anon'. He wonders for a moment if he should open it or just ignore because it could be just trash.

Screw it.

He opens the message and it read:

"You might want to see this: www.camboys-world.uk/jack_styles_livestream_028"

He furrowed his brows when he noticed the link attached to it.

Jack... Styles? No. It can't be.

It takes no longer than five seconds for him to click on the link, being redirected to to a page full of gay porn advertisement. There's a black rectangle on top of the page that had "The livestream has ended 01:37:41 hours ago" written on capital letters, but the video still loads, revealing a naked Harry. His heart stops beating as the video starts playing by itself, finding Harry ignoring the camera and wearing only blue panties and grey knit high socks. A knot of muscles at the side of his jaw pulse when the boy holding a notebook and pencil starts moving his hips to the camera. When he finally looks up Louis could swear he was looking directly at him and only him. He had never seen someone this sexy, and to make it all worse he was biting his lip as he smirked to the camera.

"I've been trying to do my homework." His voice comes out sweet as ever. And it was ridiculous because he was no innocent boy. "But I can't stop thinking about you, Daddy." 

Louis feels a rush of heat spreading his body, imagining those words were for him.

He then takes the pencil to his mouth and enticingly bites the end of it, his hips moving faster like he was about to do a strip-tease with no music. A hand comes rub against his chest.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He says and dramatically lets his pencil fall onto the floor.

The other hand slides all the way down to the hem of his panties, as if he was threatening to take them off and his fingers start rubbing one of his nipples.

"I want you." He says and palms his covered member, moving up and down while he pinches his perky nipple. He whimpers softly.

Fuck, Harry.

Louis feels his cock twitch from underwater as he keeps his eyes fixed on the screen like life depended on it.

"I need you."

He shuts his eyes close for a moment, trying to ignore the need in Harry's words and thinking of the consequences. But Harry was the sin in person, too tempting for his sake. When he opens his eyes he's overrun with his pale cheeks all spread to the camera, staring over his shoulder as he made his hole be seen. Louis feels himself drooling at the sight.

"Please, Daddy. I need you like crazy."

Harry pokes a dry thumb against his entry and, at this point, Louis couldn't contain himself anymore. He grabs hold of his hardening member and starts touching himself, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through his entire body.

He watches as Harry lubes up his fingers and he honestly wishes he could lick them clean. They start jerking off at the same racing pace, like they were in a rush to cross the finish line and surrender to the blissful victory.

Louis notices how he's four fingers in and probably could still take more. He has to grab onto the cold marble of the tub not to come at the sudden realization. It was overwhelming how that boy could take over each particle of his being, each hair on his body. It doesn't take much longer until they're both a heartbeat away from their orgasm.

Bloody fuck, Harry...

Harry's curls fall against his face when he bows his head down, working himself to his high. Louis realizes he's going to come when he slows down the pace of his hand and his voice comes out in a whimper.

"Daddy!"

Louis doesn't see the fresh cum spilling out against his tummy because, not only he had his back turned to the camera, but his needy cry for his "Daddy" - which Louis would be more than pleasant to be - had him shutting his eyes and coming too.

He sees a glimpse of Harry's naked front when he turns around to turn off the camera, his sight too blurry to take his beautiful body in. Stretching his arm, he shuts his laptop lid and sits on his regret. Fuck, Louis. Fuck.

Knowing it's better not to dwell in what can't be undone, he hurries to get out of the guiltyful water. He walks to his bedroom, feeling the cold air hit his naked body and thinking what excuse he would make up for not going to the party. He wouldn't be able to look at Harry after what he's seen, what he found out. He felt things had changed. But maybe it was just to him, because Harry didn't have to know he'd seen him like that. Still, he couldn't be around him any more so soon.

His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing bell. Hastily, he manages to get his white robe and cover himself with it before picking up his Margherita.

He eats his dinner in bed cozied up with Emma, with who he nonchalantly shared the pepperoni, watching a random soccer game from the last league. When he finishes he decides to tell Zayn he won't go, because he would be lying if he said he wasn't sleepy and wouldn't rather stay in bed with his cat.

"I just got a cold. Can't really go out tonight. I'll make it up to you next time."

He texts Zayn and then he realizes he was still to check his agenda and find out a blank space to fill with Harry's name. Getting his briefcase that was randomly thrown onto the bed, he takes out his agenda and scrolls though the pages. To his surprise, there's a thirty-minute space at the end of his Tuesday schedule that he knew would fit perfectly with Harry's.

"You're next appointment is this Tuesday after school. Don't be late xx" He types and lets himself lie back on the heavenly mattress.

*******

There's an annoying buzzing on his side that makes his eyes open and he realizes he had fallen asleep completely naked. He didn't really like to walk around in the nude, if he was honest. Not that he was insecure about his body. He wasn't, at all. He just felt too exposed and watched, even though the only living being residing that house was Emma. It just didn't feel comfortable to him.

He sees Zayn's name written on his screen before he picks up.

"Yes?" He says and his voice comes out hoarse, which would make him sound more believable.

"You have twenty minutes to get ready. Don't think I fall for that bullshit. You're going to that party dead or alive."

Damn, Zayn...

"Chill out, okay? I've told you, I'm really sick." He says. "And last time I checked I'm an adult and I have the right to do whatever the fuck I want."

"I'm doing this for you, Lou. I don't want you to be one of those men who stop going partying just because they've been working all day. And if I remember you're only twenty five, so you will move you're big arse out of that bed of yours before I have to do it myself."

Louis groans in frustration. But it was true. They used to party every night and now he was starting to look like a forty-year-old man who had to come home to his family and go to bed early because work had made him exhausted. That wasn't him. He was the type of guy who always enjoyed his life to the fullest, drank a little too much and found a hot body to bury himself into every night. He needed to get his life back on track before he had to start wearing anti-aging cremes.

"Guess you're right." He lazily says and instantly hears a tsk coming from the other line before Zayn hangs up.

Turning around to get dressed for the party, he finds Emma licking her paws on the bed.

"Change of plans, Em. Guess daddy's going to a party." He says - not very convincingly - and he feels like the utter old men who lived alone with his cat. Which he kinda was.

Chapter Text

Song: Pray - JRY;  Numb - Nick Jonas

One week. He was forbidden from going out anywhere - including going over to Liam's house - for seven tedious days. All because he  got home at 1 A.M and he'd have to wake up early to go to school the next morning. Staying up until one or two was the same thing because he only managed to drift to sleep after an eternity of rolling on the bed and changing positions and that because he couldn't take Louis off his mind. Nor what happened on that party. He still thought it was all a dream and he'd wake up in that morning and none of that would have happened. But it did.

His mom wakes him up at six. She was still mad he couldn't keep his promise and didn't tell her what happened to get home so late. And he was mad at himself too, because he couldn't find a simple excuse so that she wouldn't ground him for a week. But at the same time he was never the type of son who lied to their parents at any convenient time. Anne and him had a very tight and honest relationship. It was pretty rare for a teenage boy who had so many things happening in his life, and he didn't want to destroy that.

Unlocking his phone to check if he had any message and hoping he had one from a very special person - even though he knew how bad his luck was, he nonchalantly wets his lips. He could still feel a trace of Louis's taste, so he closes his eyes, remembering the things Louis did to him. He was definitely skipping breakfast that day.

Louis' words invasively echo in his mind. I'm not the man for you. It was obvious that he wasn't good enough for a man like Louis, but, for some reason alien to him, he could tell he liked him and that realization was like an heavy truck shattering over him. He remembers how his heart always beat slightly faster when he was with him and how it burst out of his chest when he called him "babe". But he couldn't love him. He couldn't let him affect him any further. Deep down, he had this feeling that he would end up getting completely heartbroken if he embraced the fact that he might be in love with him, and he didn't have the time or strength to deal with another breakup so soon. He had to focus on school and getting his life together so that he had the grades he needed to go to a decent university to study what he truly loved: photography.

There was this need in him to hide behind the lens and search for all sorts of beauty and capture the unthinkable. The nature was his muse. Last summer he used to go to every park in the area at the end of the day when the sun was setting in the sky and take pictures of the lake reflecting the magnetic colors that ranged from strawberry pink to a shadowing yellow. But, now, his artistic vein was restless until he photographed the most marvelous thing he's ever seen his entire life: the always-confusing Louis Tomlinson.

He was radiant, but dark and mysterious. His exquisite blue eyes, that in some lights looked grey, mirrored his thoughts yet his gaze was often so indecipherable. And his face... God, his face! It was carefully sculpted by the ancient Greeks along with his flawless sun-kissed body to originate the most perfect Greek statue to come alive in the twenty-first century. Louis was, undoubtedly, art in his eyes.

Taking his long, autumn brown coat that he rarely wore off the hangers, he remembers that he was going to see him again that day and he didn't know if he could even look him straight in the eyes after last night. He just hoped Louis didn't regret any of it.

"Harry hurry up!" Gemma yells from downstairs.

He makes a mental annotation to go back to Victoria Park on of these days and bring his camera with him before he leaves to school.

 

Fate or not, his first class had to be English - also known as Mr. Malik's class. He sat next to Liam as usual, but he didn't say "Good morning" or "Hey" when he pulled back his chair. And Harry knew he was mad. Everyone seemed to be mad at him - even himself - but his brain told him to relax because the sexual time he had with Louis was definitely worth it.

Fuck. There I am thinking about him again!

"Hope everyone had a great weekend." Mr. Malik says from his desk and Harry wonders if he was going to mention the party. But he ends up not saying a word about it. Instead, his eyes flicker across the room in search for something and they end up landing on Harry.

He sees the ghost of a smirk being thrown in his direction and he can't help wondering if Louis said anything about what happened between them. He truly hoped not, because he wouldn't allow any other guy to threat him like he was some sort of achievement.

"Open your books on page eighty seven. We're gonna start where we left off: Act I, Scene IV."

Mr. Malik leans his back against the wooden desk with 'Romeo and Juliet' on his left hand and starts turning the pages. "Anyone volunteers?" His eyes turn back to his twenty-people audience, looking for a hand in the air. But no one does. "Okay... Harry" the man looks straight at him and Harry's heart nearly jumps from his chest. "Would you mind?"

Harry looks back at him with some confusion, as if he was just caught completely off guard.

"Start from Romeo's third line, please."

Harry nods and clears his throat before raising his voice.

"Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes
With nimble soles, I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

(Mercutio)

You are a lover, borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.

(Romeo)

I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers, and so bound
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe;
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

(Mercutio)

And, to sink in it, should you burden love—
Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn."

Harry pauses before proceeding with the following line by Mercutio.
The thought of Louis strikes in his mind, like what he was reading related to them in some way.

"If love be rough with you, be rough with love;

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Give me a case to put my visage in:
A visor for a visor! what care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
But every man betake him to his legs."

"Thank you, Harry. Great reading." Mr. Malik acknowledges with a soft smile. "Now, from this excerpt, what can you tell about Mercutio?"

"That he's an anti-romantic." Harry speaks up, earning a surprised glance from Liam. "Love is a physical pursuit for him and he emphasizes it by using a rather bawdy wordplay. He twists Romeo's declarations into twisted, sexual innuendos, saying that Romeo's love-sickness is caused by a lack of sex; if he'd just have some, he'd get over thinking that he needs to be in love. Because, to him, the solution to heartache is to go out and have sex."

Everyone in the class was staring at him and it made his cheeks lightly blush.

"Very well, Harry. And what about Romeo?"

"Romeo, otherwise, has a naive view of love." Liam replies without even looking at the lines. "His love is transcendent and spiritual and he's a pessimist. You can also tell he's depressed, because he always thinks of a situation in a negative way."

"You're right, Liam. I'm glad you've both been studying." Mr. Malik glances at his old, creased book. "Anyone wants to read next?"

 

Harry stops Liam in the hallway at lunch break.

"Hey, can we talk?" He says, trying to keep up with his hurried pace.

"About what?" Liam asks dryly, but Harry grabs his arm, making him stop in the middle of the hall.

"About last night."

"What about it?" He shrugs. "You got lucky. Cogratulations!" He says in pure sarcasm as he smiles at him.

"No, I didn't."

His radiant expression starts to die with his words. "You didn't?"

"No." Harry shakes his head. Liam was now staring at him suspiciously with his thick brows furrowed and his lips parted. "And I wanted to say sorry.  I shouldn't have made you wait so long for me. And I'm sorry that you're grounded."

Harry looks down, throwing himself under the regret. He thinks Liam was going to say it was to no use now, that what's done couldn't be undone and keep being mad at him. He doesn't, though.

"You were rejected?" Liam asks with a hint of pain and surprise in his voice.

Harry didn't know if he should tell him that he was and just forget about that subject or tell him that they still did dirty things together. He always told him everything, but he wasn't sure if he would forgive him if he told the truth.

"I..." Harry begins, turning his head up to face his friend. The messy thoughts in his mind are fighting against each other; the truth versus the lie. So, in the spur of the moment, he lies. "I was."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be this harsh." He says, his face more relaxed. "My parents only took my X-box away for the month, so..."

"Im sorry. I didn't mean to have you pay for my stupidity."

"Oh, I'm sure you got your punishment too."

For a moment, Harry's mind drifts to the blood-pumping spanking Louis gave him the previous night, and he could still feel his hands on his ass.

"Well, apart from not being able to play Mario Kart with me for a month." Liam laughs.

"Yeah. And it includes you as well: I have to go straight home from school and can't go to your place for a week."

"That's definitely better than mine." Liam raises an eyebrow, nodding.

"Wanna switch?"

"You don't even have an X-box!"

"Exactly." Harry says with a know-it-all grin, making Liam shake his head while trying not to laugh.

They start walking to the cafeteria because, as much as Harry would like to eat out his delicious salads, he wasn't allowed to. So he would have to end up eating the trash his school found in the garbage and threw into big pans and dishes.

"So, how did things go with Becky?" Harry asks as he puts a plate of some weird carrot soup on his tray. It was times like these that he wish he knew how to cook.

"Well..." Liam smiles, grabbing a plate of 'plastic pizza', as Harry liked to call it. "We had a great time. We danced, drank while we talked and then I kissed her before she left."

Liam heads for an empty table at the end of the room and Harry follows him.

"What? That's great!"

Even from behind Harry could tell how big he was smiling. It's when they place their trays on the table that Harry could see how his cheeks were flustered, and the smile hadn't left his face either.

"Yeah. She's amazing."

 

The afternoon flies by quicker than he thought, even though he couldn't stop reminding himself that he was going to see him again. His mom picks him up and drives him to the monstrous twenty-something-floor building. His heart was pounding. He had no idea how he would react this time and what was going to happen behind those four walls. But he braced himself for the best.

The large glass doors sense his presence and open before him. Walking in, he notices the same red-head secretary in the lobby. She was on the phone and her lips moved fast like a rapper, but she still had the same calm and welcoming expression. He could her her faint sweet voice as he made his way through the lobby. He walks to the elevator and calls it, feeling his nerves peek up. He was going to see him - the man who made him feel things he never felt before and never thought he ever would; the man who called him 'babe'.

It takes only a few seconds before the elevator stops on his floor and he's surprised by the fact that it was empty. Which was great. He really needed a moment alone before seeing Louis face to face. Entering the elevator, he runs a hand through his hair to fix his fringe into place as a way of calming himself. It doesn't do much. Louis was a strong, incredibly sexy and intimidating men. He probably would never be relaxed to be near him. It used to be like that with guys he had crushes on, but not to this degree. He knew the guys would never like him back even if he tried his hardest because they were straight. But with Louis - even though he wouldn't admit that he was gay - he knew he stood a chance. The odds were against him because, let's be honest, Louis could get any guy in the world and he was way out of his league. But there was a strong connection between them and he wouldn't give up on that so easily.

He eyes the tiny screen at the top of the machine and he was already on the seventh floor.

You can do this. He tells himself, looking down at his own feet and realizes his shoelace was untied. How nice it would be to trip right in front of him...

The elevator stops at the ninth floor and he scrambles out as soon as the doors slide open. He could see the familiar dark-skinned woman sitting by her desk at the end of the hallway. She seemed busy on her computer, and he ends up wondering if she's new there or if she's worked for Louis for a long time. It must be nice to see such a handsome man everyday. But he can't help the jealousy from stinging his skin. From her appearance she seemed to be in her twenties. Just like Louis.

Suddenly he remembers he doesn't even know his age, the man he claimed to have feelings for. Maybe he should ask him now, since they're "date" didn't provide him much information about him.

When he's approaching the woman's desk she notices him - probably by his loud walking - and quickly stops him from going to knock at Louis' door.

"Dr. Tomlinson is with a patient." She says. Her face was annoyingly perfect and her shiny, chocolate locks straight as raw spaghetti now that he could see her properly. She carried a pair of big golden triangular earrings that enhanced her jade eyes and gave her an exotic air. Everyone working there was so beautiful, it wasn't fair. "Would you mind waiting here?"

"Sure." He nods his head. "Is it still gonna long?"

"You're Harry, right?" She asks, looking at the computer with a professional face.

"Yes."

Her eyes look up and down the screen as if she was looking for something in a list.

"No. Five minutes more, tops. Dr. Tomlinson is not about making his patients wait."

Good to know.

"Oh. Okay."

"But why don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable until then?" She says, tilting her head towards the small raw of chairs against the wall behind him where a blonde woman was sitting.

"Uh... Thanks."

He sits down and takes the chance to check his phone. There were already pictures from the party all over Instagram, most of them of groups of students drinking and couples kissing. He rolls his eyes at them. To be honest, he didn't understand why everyone insisted on sharing their personal lives with everyone. It felt like they were just doing it for attention and to try to make other people jealous of their awesome lives. It was ridiculous.

He ends up getting so lost at scrolling through the app that he doesn't hear the muffled voices coming from the end of the hallway a few minutes later.

"Well, I hope everything goes well with you and your husband. And don't hesitate on calling if you need advice or have any problem, okay?" A strangely familiar voice says and managed to catch his attention. When he turns his head he sees Louis with a forty- year-old woman walking towards them. God, he had missed him and the confident way he carried himself.

"I will. Thank you very much, Dr. Tomlinson." The woman says, all smiles and touches.

Louis had on a dark navy blue suit that had some weird texture to it he couldn't understand from afar, and his blazer was open as usual, revealing a simple, classy white button-up shirt. And he was wearing a tie over it this time, pale brown like his shoes.

"Hi, Dr. Tomlinson." The woman next to him says, and she was smiling just as much as the forty-year-old woman that had left his office with him. It seemed like everyone was drawn to him by the way they seemed to melt when he was around. And he understood that, because he was no exception.

"Hello, Veronica. How are you?"

The woman - who appeared to be thirty and single - literally looks at him through her long, fake lashes.

"I'm great, Doctor. Thank you."

When he stops in front of him, Harry realizes he had been staring so intensely that he ended up getting lost in his beauty. It was clear that he had shaved this morning, because his face was completely smooth and, even though he had no facial hair, he still looked really masculine and rugged, and he still wanted to kiss all over his jawline. He looked outrageously handsome and he couldn't understand how everyone around him didn't faint. But then again, there was still some jealousy growing in him.

"Hello, Harry." Louis says, and there was a smile dancing in his eyes just for him. It wasn't exclusively polite and professional like to his other patients. It was secretive, meaningful.His eyes hid all the memories from the night before that only the two of them knew.

"Hi, Dr. Tomlinson." He greets back, feeling embarrassed by the way his cheeks were heating up just from a thought alone. A thought that Louis had had too.

His hand finds his thin, silk tie and wraps around it, like his intentions were to make Harry notice it. But he already had before. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Harry dives his phone back into his front pocket and follows after him.

The moment he steps inside his office, Louis shuts the door close behind him with one hand and attacks his lips. Harry loses his balance and falls back onto the wall, feeling Louis' body press against his, not allowing him to move anywhere. He runs his hands through his hair styled in a high quiff, careful not to ruin it or turn his hair into a mess. He could feel his heart beating fast with adrenaline and desire, Louis' scent intoxicatingly delicious making him wish the kiss would last forever. The way Louis' lips brushed against him softly as he cupped his face and pulled their bodies as close as they could get showed that he had missed him just as much. And Harry still couldn't believe it.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't contain myself." Louis says when he breaks the kiss. His shallow breathing hit his face as they looked at each other.

I affect him too.

"I'm glad you couldn't." He comments, unconsciously wetting his own lips. Louis had his eyes on them as if he was dying to kiss them again. But, to Harry's sadness, he doesn't.

"Well, we better get started before we stay here for hours." He rushes and Harry understood exactly what he meant by that.

Louis walks away, heading to his desk, and it takes Harry a few seconds before his brain starts working and his feet realize they were supposed to move. As soon as he sits down in the chair across him, he's invaded with a question.

"Did you touch yourself this morning?" Louis eyes him warily, waiting for his reply.

"After a night like yesterday?" He scoffs, feeling a smile grow on his face. But Louis was still serious as ever. "No."

"Do you need to?"

Yes. Now that you mention it.

Louis was watching his every move: the way he fiddled with his white shirt and looked down at his crossed legs, the way he bit his lip as he thought of an answer...

"I..."

He sees Louis grab his pen, preparing to write on his notebook. But he doesn't just yet. "You can tell me, Harry."

Harry bites his lip. He didn't want to need it. He didn't want to turn every moment he had with Louis sexual, but he couldn't help it. It was inside of him.

"I guess..."

Louis leans his body forward, sitting at the edge of his chair. "Yes or no?"

There was impatience in his voice, urge for an answer. An answer that could easily be anticipated.

"Yes."

With his answer, Louis stands up, walking to the door. Is he going to leave? Fuck, I've ruined everything. Why am I like this? But, to his surprise, he doesn't walk out. He locks the door and sits back on his plush chair.

"Come here." He says, leaning back so that he was comfortably seated. Harry had no idea what his plans were, but they seemed great so far. Does he want me to sit on his lap?

He stands before him, waiting for further orders. Louis stares at him from head to toe, admiring his body - the body that was once completely naked and exposed to him.

"Dance for me" Louis asks and that was last thing he would imagine coming out of his mouth.

"Uh..." Harry tries to come up with an excuse. "I- I don't"

"I saw you dancing the other night." Louis says.

Oh shit. He watches my livestreams.

Harry blanches looking right at him. He didn't know what to say or do; he was just too embarrassed, even though Louis had seen him that exposed before in person.

"I know you wanna do it for someone else rather than those pervs watching you." Louis runs his index across the curve below his lower lip.

"Well, apparently you are one of those pervs too" Harry manages to say, bringing his sass to the top of the messy ocean that were his thoughts.

"Yeah, but they would never have a chance with you. Me, I know my goals, and I go to the limit if that means I reach them. I knew I could have you, Harry, from the moment you sat down on that chair with your cheeks blushing. Just like you are now."

Harry releases his eyes from him, not being able to stare back at him with a normal face.

"And I knew I had you." Louis proceeds, his smile triumphant at this point. "From the very first time I saw you begging for your Daddy."

He feels himself flush under his burning gaze, as if he had stripped off in front of a stranger. Louis knew all his deepest secrets now: his secret hobby - as he liked to call it -, his Daddy kink... Everything. But the way he said the word Daddy made him want to straddle him until he was too hard he was incapable of refusing to fuck him.

The silence becomes too much that he thinks of a reply, but he was lost for words. The need to cover his surely red face was just as much as the need to pee after a couple of drinks. But now that the truth was out, he couldn't help wanting to know how he felt about the whole Daddy thing. He sure had a positive reaction, because if he had said anything but about it to his exes they would've dumped him in a heartbeat. So, if there was a tiny chance of Louis being willing to try that, he had to know.

"You sure are a confident man." He eyes him, breathing though his mouth. "But that doesn't mean you can own people."

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet." Louis says, his tone dangerously promising. "You'll be mine, all mine." The words roll out of his lips, slow and tasteful, making Harry forget to breathe for a moment. "And there's more: you'll want to be mine."

Harry tries to push the core in his throat down, but it doesn't move. His body was sweating, feeling hot and cold at the same time as Louis watched his reaction. Obviously he wanted to be his, he had no doubt about it already. But the best thing was that Louis wanted him, although possessive and sexually, he wanted him. And that was enough to make him do anything he asked for.

"Put your pants down. I want to see if your bum's still red." He demands, looking up at his eyes. But what Harry didn't know was that it was also an excuse to see what panties he was wearing that day.

Harry starts by unbuckling his belt, their eyes still locked on each other's as he moves his hips from side to side like he was doing a strip tease. His hands start shaking for a reason he didn't know and it was weird because they didn't behave like that the previous night when they had all the reasons to. When he pulls the zipper of his blue jeans down, he sees Louis' gaze fall down to his crotch.

"Come on, love." He nods his head reassuringly when Harry stops for a moment. If felt like he called him 'love' just to see him blush again, and it worked.

Harry slides his jeans down to his knees, revealing his pastel purple, cotton panties. They were simple, with only a little bow at the front, but comfortable, and still managed to make Louis drool.

"Turn around." Louis asks, turning his finger around in the air. The moment Harry has his back to him, he doesn't hesitate on pulling his panties down. His pale skin was indeed still stained with two dark pink marks and Louis felt himself twitch inside his suit pants. "Fuck, Harry. You look so beautiful."

Harry has to hold back a moan inside his throat from the compliment, but also from the way he was exposed in front of him. His cock was semi-hard already and it was growing at the second.

Without permission - not that he needed -, Louis grabs his cheeks, massaging the area with the palm of his hands. They adventure down and inwards, nearly touching his most sensitive parts.

"Louis..." He whispers, his voice to weak to make any sound.

"Relax, baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good." But Harry doesn't understand how, because Louis withdraws his hands off him, leaving him there needing more. Without any warning, Louis' palm collides against his right cheek, making him jolt in surprise and the moan he tried so hard to contain come out of his mouth.

"Do you want more?" Louis asks, smiling as he sees the pink color of that area turn a shade darker.

"Yes." Harry admits, capturing his lower lip between his teeth as he felt Louis smile behind him.

"I figured."

He spanks him once again, harder this time, pulling him towards his torso by the hips with one hand so that his body was slightly curved. He gives him three more smacks, alternating on the cheeks, and stops, allowing him to catch his breath before going for the left one and insist on it.

"Can you take five more?" Louis asks but he had already lost count of how many he'd given him already.

Yes, Daddy.

His hand collaps against him with roughness, making his butt start to sting in pain.

"If you don't answer me in gonna multiply them." Louis warns, before hitting him once again.

"Y-yes." He chokes out.

Louis spanks him the five times he'd promised him, changing the spot so it wasn't too much on him. Harry could hear him breathing sharply from behind him when he was done, but he wasn't the only one.

"Wish you could see how pretty your bum looks now." Louis tells him and blows fresh air against the burning skin to relive some of the pain. "Turn around for me."

Harry turns to face him and goes to pull his panties up to cover his sore ass, but Louis slaps his hand away.

"Don't think I'm finished, darling."

Harry stares at him, flushed and curious to what he was planning on doing. His member was achingly hard, half of it out of his panties and resting against his belly needing release.

"I want you on my lap." Louis pats his hand over his leg, inviting him with a wicked glare and Harry stands on top of him with a leg on each side before sitting down on his lap. "I didn't say 'straddle me'" he says, but Harry could see a pleased look on his eyes. So he starts grinding against him, his hips coming to meet his semi.

"But that's what you wanted." He impugns, giving him a mischievous smirk. "Or is it not?"

He wraps his arms around his neck when Louis' hands fall from his hips down to his ass, squeezing the marked skin so hard his nails felt like they could perforate it. Harry leans forward and kisses him desperately, whimpering into his mouth. His hips never stop giving them pleasure with the way his member rubs against Louis' white shirt that he was dying to unbutton - or maybe come over - and his ass against his boner.

Louis takes his tongue out, licking against his sleeping one before letting go of his mouth by biting his swollen lower lip. Harry that's that opportunity to plant kisses on his face from his cheeks down to his jaw, loving how soft and kissable it was without the rough stubble. He feels Louis' hands slide up to his back then as he starts to engage on the grinding, but they soon find their way back to his ass. One finger adventures further down to his hole and massages around the rim, making Harry moan and roll his eyes in anticipation. He needed him so bad.

"Do you like that?" Louis says, looking at the boy hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Harry kisses him there, nuzzling his face against it to feel his intoxicatingly good cologne.

"Yes." He murmurs and bites the flesh, sucking a hickey that would last for an entire work to the least.

"Harry!" Louis scolds him, bringing his hands to his neck to pull him away. Harry stares at him with wide eyes as if he hadn't done anything wrong. But the truth was that he'd have a visible lovebite on him for days and that was just nasty, specially for someone with his job. "What am I going to do with you...?"

Harry's sad pout slowly changes into a devilish smile with lip bite. "You know what."

"You did it on purpose didn't you?" Louis says playfully, not being able to fake seriousness for that long. Harry licks his lips in response. "Sit on the desk."

He promptly obeys, standing up and climbing on top of Louis' long wooden desk with his help. The way he lifted him with his two arms only was incredibly sexy, and he couldn't help imagining what it'd be like to be fucked against a wall by Dr. Tomlinson.

Still sitting, Louis slides his panties down to his ankles. "I want you quiet." He says, looking up at the half-naked boy sitting on his desk who quickly nods.

Harry understood that. If they were going to have any sort of relationship they would have to keep it a secret, for so many reasons.

Louis ends up taking his panties off, rumpling the fabric in his hands so that it became a sphere. It had a significant wet spot at the front where his cock had been leaking into. Harry was confused for a moment, before Louis brought his panties to his own lips. He opens his mouth, letting him push the improvised gag inside.

"What are you doing to me?" Louis asks rhetorically, starting to undo his tie as he admired the beautiful boy in front of him.

Harry's body didn't know how to react to that. It was too sexy, too unreal to be happening.

Once his tie was loose, Louis unbuttons the first buttons of his shirt, as if it was becoming hard for him to breathe. And, in fact, it was. His pulse was racing with adrenaline and desire, making his body start to sweat. Taking his tie over his head, he adjusts it in equal parts and wraps it around Harry's head, covering his eyes.

Harry was completely astonished. Louis had just gagged and blindfolded him in less than a minute. No one had ever done that to him before and, if he was honest, he never thought someone would. But there was Louis Tomlinson again, always surprising him.

"Lay down." He orders.

Harry lets his body fall back against the flat surface, admired that he didn't have to throw any office supplies onto the floor like they did in the movies. But Louis didn't keep much on top of his desk - only a pen, his notebook and a stack of papers at the corner.

"Spread your legs." He says, standing up from his leather chair and positioning himself between Harry's slightly parted legs. "As much as you can."

Harry didn't have the space to do so, since he was quite tall and his head was almost falling down at the opposite side of the desk. So Louis grabs his thighs, lifting his legs up to form a ninety-degree angle. Taking his tongue out, he bows his head down and licks at Harry's head, causing him to moan instantly against the panties.

"Shh..." He whispers against him before moving down to his balls and licking all the way up to the tip, slow and tortuously.

Harry couldn't help moaning at the feeling that was even more intense now that he couldn't see or be heard properly. He never thought that would make such big difference, but it surely did.

"You like that, don't you?"

Louis hears a muffled 'yes' coming from his mouth before going down and insisting his tongue on the pretty pink tip.

Harry squirms in desperation. He needed something to grab - Louis' hair preferably - but when he tried to lift his torso he was pushed back down. The desk was too long for him to be able to open his arms and grab the edges of it, so it becoming very frustrating not having something to hold onto.

Louis doesn't stop to breathe before taking his entire length in his mouth, loving hearing him moan as if he was being murdered. His mouth was tight as never around his cock, pushing in until it almost reached his throat while his hands teased his hard nipples.

Everything was dark, but Harry could bet he was seeing stars right before him. His arms reach behind his head and he grabs the desk with both hands, trying to stay in place.

Louis sucks him a couple of times, some insisting at the head and others taking him all the way down. But he was hard too, so hard it was painful, and he needed to pay his member some attention as well.

He manages to get out of his suit pants while his fingers still rub against Harry's nipples, keeping his boxers on. He palms himself through them as he gets back to blow him, faster and faster.

"Louis!" He hears Harry moan loudly and quickly looks up at him to find he had spit the panties off.

"Did I say you could take it off?" Louis asks, feeling the blood boil in his veins with anger. Harry was staring at him with a brazen smile, fingers hooked on the edges as his body couldn't stop writhing. He felt such a devouring need to spank him again that he had to fist his hands to control himself.

"I need you, Louis."

"Where?"

Harry shuts his eyes, trying to find the words so that he got Louis to touch him again, because the sudden absence of him was to painful.

"Inside me." He murmurs.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Louis asks, his hands finally finding their place back on his body. "Right on this desk?"

Harry wanted to say 'yes'. He wanted to feel Louis inside of him, all of him. He wanted it so bad. But he wasn't capable of. He wasn't ready - although his body seemed to disagree - nor did he want to lose his virginity an office desk. Some people would call him stupid - and he knew he was - but he wanted his first time to be properly planned and definitely more romantic than that. He knew he wasn't in a novel where everything happened perfectly like in a fairly tail, yet he still wanted to hold onto that possibility that he hoped would happen one day.

"I..." Harry hesitates, not imagining it would be so hard to say no to a man like him. But he manages to get the word out of him. "Don't."

Louis unties his tie from around Harry's' head and throws it next to the panties. The confused, slightly disappointed expression Harry found on his face had him feel ridiculous because who wouldn't kill to have sex with Louis Tomlinson?

"You don't?" Louis eyes him with caution, not making any move. Harry shakes his head sheepishly, thinking he had just made an absolute fool of himself and Louis would tell him to leave immediately.

"I'm sorry." He says, trying to better his sad eyes as it hurt him too.

"No." Louis hurries to say. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize." He caresses his cheek, trying not to let him cry.

"Really?"

Louis' face softens, easing his bending heart.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I pressured you." He says and dives his head down for a kiss. Harry buries his fingers into his hair, letting him lay over his body. "I can still fuck you with my fingers." He says between kisses.

"I'd really like that."

Chapter Text

Song:

Ariana Grande ft. Future - Everyday ;

Halsey - I Walk The Line

 

*******

This time it's Louis who crashes lips with his, hands on both sides of his face as if he was afraid he was going to leave. Harry had never felt so loved and understood in his life, or even safe. It sounded absurd, given that Louis was only an acquaintance, but the way he held him so close felt like he would protect him from anything, shield him from the cruel world.

"I want you to come untouched." He whispers and his voice was flimsly raspy, filling the silence in the room.

Again?

Louis goes back to his standing position and leans down to open his bottom drawer. Harry wasn't handling having to wait to so long. Louis was like a master of anticipation, delaying and delaying his gratification, and that to him was torture, although he knew it'd make it all even better. When he's in his sight again, Harry sees a bottle of lube between his fingers.

"You keep lube in your office desk?" He says, trying not to sound too offended before Louis explained himself.

"Yes. Well, patients need it sometimes." Louis tells him, carefree and casually opening the bottle as if he hadn't just implied he was a slut. Harry gapes at him, propping himself on his elbows so that he could look at his face.

"Patients like me?" He says in mockery, hinting at how offended he felt. Louis raises his eyes at him.

"No, silly. You've got it all wrong." He ripples his forehead, blue eyes wide in worry. "Sometimes people don't know how beneficial lube can be, that's why they feel pain or discomfort during intercourse. Some women don't get wet enough for example, that's why I always keep an extra bottle in my drawer to give it to them."

Oh.

When Harry looks down he sees his fingers already coated with the viscid liquid.

"You honestly thought I fuck all of my patients?" Louis asks suddenly, raising an attacking brow. But he didn't look offended.

"Well, you fucked me." Harry fights back, but it's only a matter of seconds until he realizes what he just said was pathetic. You were the one who didn't want to be fucked! He reminds himself.

"No, I haven't." He says, his face becoming dangerously serious. "Yet." Louis grips his thighs and holds his legs up on his shoulders with a strong jerk of his arms that made the thick veins strain out. Whoa! The wild, fierce way Louis handled him to his desired position with such ease yet so erotically had him feel like a prey under a hungry lion's claws. And he could hardly wait for Louis to devour him.

"I'm trusting you to be quiet." Louis warns, watching his chest raise up and down. "If you don't, you know what will happen."

Harry nods and that's the last thing he can do before Louis is sliding a finger inside him.

"Louis!" Harry protests, his untamable voice coming out maybe a bit too loud. But he wasn't complaining at all. Not when Louis' deft finger deliciously curved inside of him.

"Quiet." Louis groans, his left hand resting on Harry's leg for support. He thrusts his finger with no mercy, making Harry's hands go back to grabbing the desk. "You like it rough don't you?"

Harry shuts his eyes, not bearing the orgasmic way Louis was staring at him. "Yes." He whispers, nearly panting at this point. 

"Exactly how rough?" Louis asks, but, before Harry could answer, he's adding his middle finger in. Oh God. Harry gapes at him, silently moaning at the feeling of stretch and fullness. His back flies off the desk, arching to its maximum from the mind-blowing sensation.

"I love your fingers." He thinks aloud, causing Louis to tilt his head to the side as if he was not believing he had just said that. And then he slows down his thrusts until he's almost removing his fingers entirely, but when he pushes back in there's a third finger joining them. Harry has to bite his lip not to let his desperate whimpers come out.

"How rough?" Louis demands.

Harry could see his annoying smile dancing in his eyes, surely loving to see him being tortured.

"This rough." He replies, breathlessly.

Despite his answer, Louis thrusts his fingers to an unbearable, frantic speed. He could feel Harry start to lose it, legs wrapping around his neck as his mouth hang open. He knew he had successfully hit his prostate.

"Louis!" Harry moans, feeling his high approach. It was incredible yet so hard not being allowed to touch himself. 

"Come, baby. Come for me." Harry hears him and completely falls apart before his gaze, his load coming out in long, thick jets that splattered all over his chest. The feeling was even better than he had predicted.

"You're gonna come untouched so many more times..." Louis says with an amused open smirk, admiring the mess that Harry was.

He thinks it's funny?

As soon as Harry catches his breath, Louis carefully drops his legs from his shoulders and pulls him in for a kiss. It was unexpectedly brief for his taste, but slow and sensual due to the way Louis pulled on his lip. When they separate, their foreheads glue together automatically, making them look deep into each other's eyes.

"Do you want to-"

"Yes." Harry smiles triumphantly. But before he could stand up to give him the best blowjob he had ever had in his life, he has Louis licking all over his chest, catching the pearly liquid on his tongue and swallowing. Harry feels his body heat back up like an oven being turned on with the erotically beautiful sight. Every time he felt his tongue swirl over his chest or tummy, his entire body seemed to contract and block as if he was afraid of letting go of something.

"You taste so good." Louis says before sucking the last stripe of cum hiding over his abs, making him have to lay his hands over the table not to burry them under his waggling quiff. Do I?

After cleaning him, Louis backs away and his hand drops to his boner, feeling it as his eyes suggestively catch Harry's. "Come here."

Harry sits down at the end of the desk and immediately holds Louis by his hips, wanting to mouth at the family-size tent between his legs. But when he's about to do so, Louis stops him.

"Put your panties on."

What?

"Why?" He asks, looking up at him, confused.

"Because I said so." Louis shoots. "And because you look indescribably beautiful in them."

Harry feels his cheeks blush as a blazing grin begs to be formed on his face. But he wouldn't give him the pleasure of knowing just how easily it was to have him on his hand just by a simple compliment.

"Fine..." He replies with false annoyance.

Harry turns to grab the soaking wet panties that were laying on the left edge of the desk, nearly falling to the floor, and feels a sudden smack on his butt. He instinctively looks at Louis over his shoulder to show his fake disapproval and finds him undoing the rest of the buttons of his silk shirt. Holy...

"You do as I say and don't complain. Are we clear?" Louis says, wild eyes staring back at him.

Harry decides to ignore his domineering order and leans against the desk to try and get hold of his panties without having to walk to the other end of the table. And he doesn't regret his choice when he feels Louis rubbing his erection against the crack of his cheeks, making him let out a surprised moan. Shit.

"If you want this you better hurry up. Or I won't be able to control myself not to stick it up your lovely arse." He whispers, holding him in place.

Harry reaches forward one more inch. "Got them." He smirks, sassily cocking his head to the side. But, at the same time, he wanted to keep feeling his member slide up and down the sensitive part and teasing at his entrance.

"Put them on."

Harry rolls his eyes, not sure if in pleasure or annoyance. "I can't, if you're grabbing me."

Louis lets go of him with a sigh and he manages to put his underwear back on, his back still turned to Louis so that when he bowed down to slide them up his legs he would have a nice view of his "lovely arse".

"You're such a fucking tease." Louis spits out, words coming out broken under his sharp breath. "I'm trying so hard not to take you right on this desk, but you're making this very hard for me."

"I'm just getting my panties on as you asked." Harry says with an innocent voice.

"Don't play dumb with me. If you were mine it'd be wrecking you already, so hard you couldn't even walk tomorrow."

If I was his?

"Too bad I am not." Harry teases, even though he was not quite sure what he meant by 'his'.

He fells Louis hold his throbbing erection in hand, rubbing only the tip along the crack of his butt.

"Oh, you will, don't worry." He whispers onto the warm skin of his shoulder. "It's just a matter of time."

Harry reaches his hand behind his back to replace Louis' hand for his own, but he doesn't succeed.

"On the desk with your arse up. Face to me." Louis orders, gripping his wrist before he could touch his member. Harry rolls his eyes, but climbs back onto the desk, displaying himself as Louis asked. As he moved and turned around on top of it, he felt wet and uncomfortable on his panties, but, at the same time, lasciviously filth because the truth was that Louis Tomlinson the reason for all of that.

Lying on the desk like a dead fish on his elbows, he looks up at Louis to see him pumping his fully hard cock. He feels his lips parting as his eyes lock on Louis' hand motion, and, suddenly, feels a string of saliva threatening to drop onto the floor. So he rashes to wet them, licking it in and hoping Louis hadn't noticed. But he had.

"You should see your face." Louis comments with a cocky half smile, his eyes shinning in satisfaction. "You look ridiculously thirsty."

That's because I am.

"Please." Harry says, remembering that begging used to work. And this time was no different.

"Tongue out." Louis instructs, stopping his hand at the base of his cock, and Harry obeys like a tired and thirty dog. Then Louis positions the head over his tongue and slaps it repeatedly, letting Harry feel just how heavy it was. When he stops, Harry doesn't hesitate on sucking the swollen tip, wrapping his lips tightly around it like he was sucking on a lollipop. He lets go of it with a kissing sound while looking up at Louis through his lashes.

"Fuck." Louis curses under his breath, making Harry's lips shape a glorious smile through his bitten lip. But that wasn't enough. He would have Louis throwing his head back in pleasure and moaning his name until he came. So he opens his mouth wide and, covering his teeth, swallows his entire length until the tip of his nose can touch the few pubic hairs below his navel. Louis moans from the back of his throat, dark eyes attentively watching as Harry took his tongue out on the way up, softly running it along his shaft while his mouth loosened around it. And that makes him almost roll his eyes, hands coming down to grab Harry's hair between his fingers.

"No more teasing." He says with a trace of weekness on his voice, pulling his hair so that Harry could look back at him and wouldn't be tempted to take his tongue out again. "I'm going to fuck your mouth."

Harry already looked destroyed. His lips were glossy pink and swollen, green eyes sparkling and a sweet rosy color on the apples of his cheeks contrasting with the Snow White pale of his skin. But he still had a secret mission and wouldn't waste the opportunity of having Louis come in his mouth. So he opens his mouth as wide as he can, inviting him, and Louis dives all the way down to his throat as he stares at Harry to see his reaction. But Harry couldn't care less. He closes his mouth around his lenght and lets Louis begin thrusting back and forth. He is gentle at first like a starting engine, but it's just a matter of time until he's gaining speed.

"Just a taste of what it would feel like." He says, gripping Harry's curls and getting off at the astonishing sight. In a million years, he never thought he'd find someone who still managed to look completely innocent with a dick being shoved down his throat. Harry couldn't be real.

When he makes a choking sound, Louis' instinct is to pull away, suddenly being brought to reality.

"Too hard?"

Harry swallows down the mixture of spit and pre-cum on his mouth. "I like hard." He tells him and is surprised by his own words, because he would've never said that to another guy. But Louis was different, in every way. In the best way. In a way that made him still feel the butterflies on his stomach while pleasuring him.

Louis takes off where he left, thrusting quick and steady, aiming for the back of his throat. He sees Harry slightly choke, but he doesn't complain, so he keeps pushing it onto his orgasm, his hand fondling Harry's hair.

"Harry..." He moans lightly as he looks back at him, watching how his member disappeared inside his mouth. Harry hums in response, as if he had ask him a question, and that's enough to do the trick. Harry watches his head fall back, eyes turning white for a second, and realizes Louis was close.

The moment Harry pushes back against him so that his nose hit against exploring territory, Louis comes with a tamed groan. 

 

When they are sat down, ready to begin with the actual appointment, with everything in place again, something occurs to him.

"We have something to discuss." Harry reminds him, hoping he still remembered what he had promised him. He sees a vage expression shadow his face for a moment, as if he was thinking about it.

"Go on a date with me." Louis says all of a sudden, his face attentive and serious now. Harry could feel his heart beating so fast that his chest ached. He wants to go on a date with me... 

If he was honest, he never thought Louis wanted to get serious. With him, at least. He thought he only wanted casual hookups like all the boys who seemed to be interested in him, just to use his body a couple of times. But here he was - asking him on a date.

"The last time we did that we ended up in your car, remember?" Harry tells him, trying to figure out if he meant it or not.

"But that was just a meeting." Louis shakes his head.

A meeting uh...

"Let me take you out on a proper date."

"Don't tell me: you're even going to pick me up with flowers and the whole lot?" Harry says in a evident tone of mockery and disbelief.

"If you want to, then yes."

Harry gapes at him. He is serious...  When he swallows, there's a lump on his throat hard to push down. But Louis is just sitting there, staring at him with all the confidence in the world.

"But..." Harry breathes in and bites his lip, studying the man in front of him. "Why?"

"Because I want to get to know you." Louis leans forward, bringing his hands to the table with his fingers intertwined, clarity and honesty irradiating from the way he stared to the way he was sitting.

"Why?" Harry has to ask.

"Why? Because I've never met anyone like you." He confesses, finding Harry's vulnerable eyes and not allowing them to look away.  "You completely mesmerize me, Harry." There's a outline of a genuine smile on his open mouth when he says it, and then Harry saw the infatuation Liam had told him about. It was real.

"You do too." Harry lets his heart speak for him, hoping, as his cheeks heated up, that he hadn't sounded laughable.

"So, is it a yes?" Louis hurries to ask with hopeful blue eyes.

"Yes." Harry says, smiling to the floor and trying his best to hide the ridiculous state his tomato face was. "But no flowers."

"As you wish, darling." Louis nods with a crooked side smirk that replaced the thin line of his lips. And Harry could bet he called him that just to make him even more flustered. "When should I pick you up?"

"Wha-" Oh. When are you available, Harry? Think!  "Uh... Sunday night?" He think aloud.

"Are you busy on Friday?" Louis asks and he could bet there was a trace of suffering in his voice.

"I'm grounded the entire week." He hastily tells him.

"What did you do?" Louis' worried face quickly changes to an amused smile that made his the crinkles by his eyes appear. So funny...

"It was actually your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yes. You're the reason I got home so late." Harry shoots, his eyebrows arching as he tilts his head to the side.

"Don't put the blame on me, darling."

T here he is with the 'darling' again...

"I didn't lock you there, did I? You could've left whenever you wanted to." Louis makes his point.

"But I wasn't capable." Harry admits, losing the accusative tone in his voice to the point he's basically whispering. "You made lose track of time."

"Then it was worth it."

Yes.

Chapter Text

                                                        

 

 

A/n: I'd like to know if you guys listen to the tracks I put here while reading the chapters. Because if not, you should. There's a reason why they're here. Also, should I keep adding a picture for each chapter? Cause it takes quite a while to make, so if you don't insist I won't put them. 

Thank you for reading. Extra big chapter just for you...

***********

 

Song: Undiscovered - Laura Welsh

"Me and Becky... it's happening." Liam tells him as he slides his best - and only - suit jacket on.

"Really?"

"Yeah. We were hanging out the other day after class and I kissed her." Harry could feel the happiness overflow from the other side of the line as he heard him smile.

"That's great! I'm happy for you."

Harry really wanted to hang up on him, because he still had his matching suit pants to find and a pair of brand new Chelsea boots to take off the box, however he didn't want to sound uninterested about his love life. And he was genuinely happy for him. But he was also running late for his date if he didn't hurry to get ready.

"She's really amazing. I think I'm gonna ask her out on a date one of these days."

And I'm about to go on one, so could you please find something to do?

"Yeah. Do that." Harry says in a puff of air as he flies to his closet with his unbuttoned white shirt serving as wings.

"Are you seriously ditching me?"

"No!" He quickly declares, not wanting Liam to think he was completely ignoring him. But then he realized his sudden nervous tone kind of gave him away.  "No... I'm just really busy with something right now and my mom keeps calling me for dinner." Always an excellent liar. "Can we talk tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Don't forget the group work is tomorrow. Oh, and the Cold War essay is due tomorrow as well." Liam: the studious friend who always remind you about the school stuff you always tend to forget.

"On it." He says. But what he really meant was: Fuck, I still need to finish it. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. Goodnight, H."

"Bye."

Okay. Where are those goddamn pants?

After what seemed to be an eternal search to find his dark grey suit pants, he discovers them folded in a box on top of his wardrobe. Clever.

 

Song: Wildfire - Demi Lovato

He's ready in his fancy suit and fairly under-maintenance hair six minutes before seven. That would give him enough time to cross the road and be ready for Louis to pick him up. He didn't tell his mom about it and, well, he kind of couldn't. So he had to say he was going to have dinner with Ricky because, looking like that, he didn't have many believable options left. Of course he had to promise her he would break it up with him, and the only reason why he didn't tell her he had already was just so Ricky could serve as a cover-up for them as he still could. That way she would never find out.

Thankfully, he doesn't forget to tuck his keys on the front pocket of his pants because, with the nerves and anxiety he was in, he was very likely to accidentally lock himself out. However, he was sure his mom would stay up until he got home. 

Before leaving, he makes sure to spritz his favorite 'DNKY' perfume to make himself smell fresh and "delicious" - as the bottle promised - and add another layer of gel to keep his curls in place.

The weather outside was slightly colder than he had predicted. But it wouldn't make him go back inside to get himself a warmer fall coat. He just hoped he wasn't overdressed for their date... No. He was fine. Even though he didn't rock a suit on a regular basis like a certain someone, he looked good, and he knew Louis would think so too. Sitting down on the bench by Maryland Road, he starts wondering where they were going that night. Louis only said he was going to take him out on a great restaurant, but he couldn't help thinking if there were other plans he didn't tell him about. Either way, he was going to find out sooner rather than later, so he decides to try and keep calm.

It's exactly seven o'clock when a strangely familiar black Mercedes SUV stops by the curb. His squinted eyes try to see who was inside, but the windows were entirely opaque. He had a feeling that was Louis' car. And that's when his insecurity kicks in.

S hould I get in or wait? No, maybe it's not him. Wait, but what if he's waiting for me to come inside? Am I looking like I want him to open the door for me? Well, I kind of want him to, but it's not like he has to. Stop it, Harry. Why are you so ridiculous?

Before he can finish his inner monologue, there's a man coming out from the driver's seat. His height was the first thing Harry noticed. He was tall, extremely tall, dressed in black from head to toe. He definitely looked like a bodyguard or security guard. His short hair was dark and, from his big black, grey-splattered beard, Harry deduced he was around fifty.

"Mr. Styles?" The man says as he leans to open the backseat door. Harry was confused as ever, but then he realizes he knew his name, so he stands up. As he walks closer to see if Louis was inside, he feels like his heart decided to jump from a cliff. And then he finds him - the man that makes him forget where he is and where he's going. Louis smiles when they look at each other, the smile that Harry longed to see all week. And that's enough to revive his beating heart. 

"Good evening, Mr. Styles." Louis says as he sits down next to him, making him think he was trying to imitate his corteous driver. But he probably wasn't. "Looking sharp."

The sudden thud of the door being shut behind him makes him almost rocket jump out his seat.

"You do too." Harry manages to say, snorting his embarrassed giggle out. He couldn't see very well what Louis had on, but he could tell he was wearing a simple black tuxedo and t-shirt. He was definitely a hot man.

"No. The stars are definitely shinning for you tonight." Louis tells him, the delicate smile still on his lips making him want to bring his hands up to cover his face.

It's only when the car starts that it clicks on him.

This car... This bloody car.

His palms rest against the leather seats he didn't quite approve of but brought him some type of joy.

These are the backseats he sucked me on the first time...

As Louis had his eyes on the road, he takes the chance to close his eyes. He remembered it like it was yesterday. So well it like watching a movie. The way Louis had positioned himself between his legs, the way he bobbed his head as he went up and down, the way he approved of his panties... He wanted that. He needed that. Now. When he opens his eyes, he looks down to find his hand on his crotch. But thankfully - or not - Louis wasn't looking.

No. I promised myself this wouldn't end up in a sex encounter.

Song: Into You - Ariana Grande

"I didn't know you had a personal driver." Harry says to try and take his mind of inappropriate things. They obviously wouldn't do what they did with his driver right in the front seat. That was absolutely wrong, as much as Harry secretly wanted to taste the adrenaline of it.

Louis turns to face him. "I have a lot of things you don't know of..."

That sounded suggestive. If he was rich enough to have a personal driver to drive him around in a new, out-of-the-stand fresh Mercedes - not that he understood that much about cars -, he surely would have plenty other unnecessarily expensive stuff.

"I'm sure you do." Harry nods and, perhaps, he didn't sound as believing as he was. "Where are you taking me exactly?"

From the corner of his eye he can see Louis carefully place his hand just mere centimeters away from his. Harry thinks he wants him to hold it, or maybe Louis would make more than the first move. For once in his life he's thankful for his insecurities when Louis actually fills the distance between them until their little fingers touch and, a heartbeat later, covers his whole hand.

"To a really nice restaurant." Louis tells him as he intertwines their fingers.

"That comes in handy, because I'm hungry." Is the last thing he remembers saying.

 

The drive is so long Harry ends up falling asleep against the comfortable backrest. He only wakes up when he hears a voice speaking to his ear and the rocking movement of the car slows down.

"Harry." He hears Louis call for him, his voice sounding clearer as he touches the real world.

Where am I? He wonders for a split second as he opens his eyes and, then, the realization that the fact that he was in Louis' car wasn't a dream startles him.

"We're here." Louis says, deadening a laugh.

Harry instantly looks outside his window, his face feeling a bit too rumpled from his unplanned nap. He knew that road, those fading buildings, that Starbucks Coffee across the street... It was Belvedere Road.

"We're in the center of London?" He asks, baffled that Louis had driven him so far just for a dinner. And, as he looks back at him, he realizes they were still holding hands after a one-hour drive. Even after he fell asleep. He couldn't even feel Louis' weight on him anymore. It was like his hand was part of his body.

"Indeed." Louis nods his head and, unexpectedly, leans in to kiss him. Despite it feeling so real, Harry was sure he was still sleeping. An entire week without his kiss was like he had never kissed him before. It was so magical Harry could feel a current of electricity run all the way down to the bottom of his spine. And that was enough to make him not want to let go. Screw the dinner.

"Let's go." Louis says against his wet lips, letting go of his hand before they get out.

 

Out in the bright street lights, Harry could see that Louis wasn't as dressed up as he was, and that felt odd. He did not had suit pants on as he always did every time he saw him, but black skinny jeans that looked almost as tight as his. Yet he was still carrying a handkerchief, black with white details that stood out in his all-black look. He looked breathtakingly stunning, as usual.

They enter Queen's Walk and walk along the river until they end up in front of a big staircase after the London Eye. As they climb up the stone stairs, Harry sees a sign on top of the building they were heading towards.

 

                                                                         Bao fa Garden

                                                                  RESTAURANT & BAR

 

"It's a Chinese restaurant?"

Louis suddenly stops, his face concerned. "Don't you like Chinese food?"

"I do. Very much." He tells him and watches how it eases his expression.

"Great, because I did my research on vegetarianism and they have dishes for you."

Harry would be lying if he said his heart didn't feel like bursting out of his chest with such warming revelation.

 

The atmosphere inside was fairly calm and welcoming, light orange wood wrapping the room from the floor to the walls with two rows of tables on each side and an extra one on some sort of inside balcony.

"Good evening, gentleman." A dark-haired asian woman comes up to them at the entrance.

"Hello, we have a reservation for eight thirty."

"Mr. Tomlinson, right?" The waiter says, not even going to check on the computer.

The long-haired woman looks up at Louis in the eyes, maybe drawn to the hypnotizing beauty of them. Even though he hated the feeling and he had no reason for concern, Harry felt jealous for the second that it lasted.

"And Mr. Styles." He adds, and Harry was sure his name wasn't written on the reservation list. But he said it anyway, keeping his focus on the abashed waiter in front of him that was definitely trying to flirt with him.

Failed attempt, sorry.

"Right this way."

Louis gestures for him to go ahead and, as he moves to get in front of him, he feels a hand rub against his waist. You're mine. He can't help thinking. 

Their table was the very last one at the end of the aisle, with a gaping view of the lit Westminster bridge and the river below, leading to believe that the world outside was blue. He'd never seen the bridge look like this. Whoa... He really, really wanted to have his camera with him right now. The chinese furniture across them was impressive as well, old-looking wood cupboards with spectacularly detailed carvings of women, trees and symbolic, traditional engravings from top to bottom. Everything in shades of orange and yellow with occasional details of green and red.

The waiter hands them the menus once seated. Harry studies the list for a moment, trying to find out which dishes were meat-free. There weren't a lot.

"What is it going to be, gentlemen?"

"Harry?" Louis asks.

"Hum... The Stir Fry Bamboo and Wild Mushroom, please." A safe choice.

The waiter frowns his eyebrows. Harry was sure she was looking down on him for some reason, other than their heights at the moment. He was taller than her standing up.

"And you, Sir?"

Sir...

He thinks Louis saw him wanting to roll his eyes, but he didn't care. That woman's attitude was becoming unbearable for him.

"What he's having." Louis' voice had taken a dangerous turn. He sounded angry.

"Anything to drink?"

"What do you suggest?"

He sees his lips shape a provocative smile as he turns to look at her with sweet politeness.

Now you're playing, hun? 

"Hum... I think a glass of white wine would go perfectly with your dish." She says with a confident smile, and Harry could tell how she was slowly moving forward.

"I don't like white wine." He objects.

The woman's face falls when Louis almost breaks his neck to look at him, ignoring her.

"Of course not. You like it red, don't you, Mr. Styles?"

Is he trying to purposely embarrass me? He knows very well that an underage teenager can't consume alcohol. 

"Actually, I'll have a coke." He says, defiant.

The woman writes down their orders on a small notebook. Louis eyes him with a severe look before glancing up at the waiter and dismissing her with a smile.

"So... how's your boyfriend?" Louis attacks as soon as they're left alone.

Shit. I forgot to tell him we're not together anymore.

He decides to tell the truth.

"How would I know? I don't have one." He says.

Louis squints his eyes.

"And how's yours?"

"Stop with the games." Louis admonishes.

"Well, you were the one who blew a taken guy in the first place."

"Were you two still together when I took you to my car after you teased me to an extent?"

Teased him to an extent... At least it worked.

"No."

"Then I did no crime."

He's right. Fuck.

"I chase after what I want, but ruining relationships is not my thing, Harry."

Song: Love - Lana Del Rey

The waiter comes back with their beverages before Harry can think of a reply. He did not want to let the conversation die, as much as it made him incredibly nervous most of the time. She places his coke in front of him and leans to fill Louis' glass with a bottle of 'The King's Favour'.

He stops her when it's half full.

"It's enough. Thank you."

Harry was surprised when Louis immediately took his can and poured it onto his empty glass like a real gentleman. 

"Thank you." Harry says in a small voice. It felt like their conversation had cooled down and things were back at stake one.

Grabbing his tall glass, Louis sips his wine as he watches the waiter walk away. Damn, that was the picture Harry always had in mind of the hottest man on earth drinking wine. Strong veiny hands grasping the elongated wine glass as the liquid slides through his sucking lips. Yet he looked like a crow in the middle of a field evaluating his options with how gloomy his expression was and the way he seemed to be there but not at the same time. By the crease on his forehead Harry could tell he was thinking about something.

"Tell me more about him." He demands as he puts down his glass, not even giving Harry time to wet his mouth. "What's his name?"

Who? Oh...

"Ricky." He tells him, but he couldn't understand the sudden interest on his ex. He should be glad he was single. That, if he wanted something serious with him, which he wasn't sure yet. "Why are you so curious about my ex?"

He just hoped there wasn't some sort of competition going on.

"Because it can say a lot about you and your... type. Drink." He points to his untouched coke with his head.

"My type?" Harry asks, taking the glass to his lips.

"Yes. If you were with him it must've been because he had something you loved." Louis shifts forward in his chair. "Did he fuck you hard?"

Harry nearly chokes with his drink.

Of course... He was just like the alpha wolf needing reassurance, even after defeating his enemy and winning the female. Yes, you're better than him.

"He never..."

Harry feels his cheeks turn crimson, not only from the fact that he was receiving concerning glances from people at the restaurant, but also, and mostly, because he was about to admit a secret he had always kept very safely locked down to a man like Louis.

"You never came?"

Their voices had just turned down ten volumes.

"No. I did. But I've never..." What are you doing with your life, Harry?  "We've never... had sex."

Why is it so strangely comfortable to open up to him? Probably because he's a prestigious sexologist, that's why.

"Is he assexual?"

Harry never thought that would occur to him to ask.

"Far from that." He lets out a sarcastic chuckle.

"Then?"

His heart race was untamable, cold sweat starting to cover his body, shame coming to destroy him. That was it - the end of his dream. He could already see Louis starting to fade away.

"I'm a virgin."

There's no one as clever in the world as me to admit that I'm a virgin to the man of my dreams in the middle of a restaurant while on a date. It requires some serious skills.

Despite the terribly nauseating lump on his throat, he couldn't stay quiet. It would only embarrass him even more. It was better to end it quickly and not dwell on illusions.

"You're going to leave too, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Louis says, momentarily raising his voice.

He was clearly confused as to why he would ask such thing. "Did he leave you?"

Oh no. I can't do this right now.

"Why?"

Louis seemed shocked.

"Was it because he's a power top?"

He really wished that was the reason.

His eyes fall to the table he was sure was going to be replete of delicious food. He could stay there and admit that he had never been ready for a man to fuck him before, or he could leave and spare himself the questioning it'd lead to. As much as he wanted to go and never cross paths with Louis again - even though it'd be the hardest decision in his life -, by some power of the Gods above, he remained in his chair.

"Are you a power top?"

Louis looked scared now. It was like he was singing in his head: please don't be, please don't be...

"No."

I sn't it obvious?  

He clears his throat, eliminating the remaining choking sensation there.

"I never wanted him to take my virginity."

Oh. Now his eyes were glowing. His lips don't hesitate on curving like he was pleased with what he just heard. Maybe I shouldn't have put so much inflection in that word.

"So you're a bottom, right?"

If I wasn't, would things be different? Or would I not be on a date with him right now? Harry can't help wondering. As much as he wanted to believe it was fate, he had a feeling Louis would never be interested in him if he was a top. And that thought was like a knife piercing through his heart.

"Yes." He says with hopeful eyes, trying, somehow, to tell how happy he was to hear that.

But Louis got something different out of his sad-looking gaze.

"Did he ever pressure you to do something?" He asks with curious squinted eyes, but the way he said it led him to believe those words hurt him somehow.

"I rather not talk more about it."

He sees him clench his fists, looking like he was trying to control his growing anger.

"Just answer me." He commands, stiff and smoking as if he could predict his answer was yes.

But he swiftly softens his voice, realizing he wouldn't get his answer like that. "Or I won't be able to sleep well."

He really, genuinely cares...

"He didn't."

 

"Thank you for the dinner. It was delicious." He says as they make their way out into the cold, breezy London. "But I could've perfectly paid for my food."

"Next time."

Song: Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding

Is that a promise?

"Let me take you somewhere." He says with honest eyes, and it sounded like he was asking Harry if he trusted him. He did.

"Well, I have school tomorrow, so I shouldn't be home late."

"I know. I'll drive you. Don't worry."

Louis' messy hair was gently blown by the wind, his singular, heady fragrance spreading out into the air around him. How was Harry supposed to deny him anything?

"Okay."

Smiling, Louis takes him down Queen's Walk and he fears their destination would be his car. Or an hotel. But, before he realizes where they're heading, he's following him through a crowd of hundreds of people with the most diverse nationalities who were waiting in line for London Eye.

"Where are we going?" He asks, noticing Louis was following the people.

We can't be going there.

"C'mon, it's a surprise!"

They stop by a security guard and Louis takes out a pair of tickets from his pocket, holding out his hand. The man checks them before nodding as he lets them through. They were in a different lane, with many, many less people - probably a fast lane.

We're in.

Harry feels a sudden rush of adrenaline run all over his body. He had never went to a Ferris wheel before, and this one was huge - 135 meters of height, from what he'd heard.

There was only one group in front of them when they get to the end of the line.

"I can't believe we're going in." He says in pure excitement as he watches the seven-person group get inside the glass capsule that, by itself, was already fairly big.

Louis turns to him. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"

It was even colder next to the river and it made him feel an abrupt need to hold Louis in order to keep himself warm. But he didn't know if he should. After all, they weren't even together.

"It's a bit too late to ask now, isn't it?"

Louis keeps staring blankly at him, and he realizes he was still waiting for an answer.

"But no."

"Good." Louis smiles.

Five minutes later, they're getting inside their reserved capsule. Harry still couldn't believe Louis had gotten them a private ride on the one and only Millennium Wheel. He was truly lost for words.

Inside the capsule that was big enough to fit up to thirty people, he found a green bottle of champagne and a pink box of chocolate truffles over the oval, glass table at the very center.

Whoa. Who would say Louis Tomlinson was a romantic?

If they were in a relationship, Harry would say he was going to propose to him.

"This is... beautiful." He tells him as he walks around, looking at the people outside starting to become smaller than ants.

The night sky was turning a darker shade of blue, the buildings lit up in bright, neon colors that reflected on the colorful water of the river. And, slowly, they were taking off and becoming bigger than anything else.

"I'm glad you liked it." Louis smiles, a feeling of accomplishment and joy filling his heart with the way Harry's eyes were sparkling.

"Liked it? I loved it." He tells him. "Too bad I didn't bring my camera with me."

Louis sits down on one of the white chairs, grabbing the Pommery Brut Royal Champagne bottle.

"You photograph?"

"Yes." He admits, turning to face him.

Is he trying to get us drunk tonight?

"A passion?"

"Uh-uh." Harry nods and takes the seat in front of him.

"That's interesting. I bet you're very good at it."

"Why do you say that?"

Louis opens the bottle like an expert, not spilling a drop onto the table, and carefully fills the two glasses resting on the table next to the box of champagne truffles.

"I don't know. My guts, probably." He says, tilting his head to the side. "Here."

Harry holds the glass he was given and decides to hide behind it. He didn't know what to say or do. Or why they were even there, flying nearly 200 meteres over London and drinking expensive champagne. For a moment, it felt like they were the only people alive in the world, and the cars crossing the bridge were part of the green screen around them.

Putting his glass down, Louis goes for the pretty heart-shaped box of truffles, opening it. 

"Truffle?" He asks as he grabs one of the three big spheres of temptation. But he was full already, mainly with nerves.

"I'm good, thank you."

Louis shrugs. "Alright. The more the better."

Staring at him, Louis bites on the frosted truffle that leaves his lips covered in powder sugar. They looked even tastier like this and Harry was dying to taste them again. But that was something he had to know, and it had to be stronger than the need for his kiss.

He takes a long sip of his champagne for extra courage.

"Why are we here, Louis?"

"Because there's something I want to tell you. Something that no one can overhear." He says, lounging his elbows on the table.

No one? Is he going to kill me? Oh no... Do I have a serious disease?

Louis leans forward on his chair. His face was earnest, sincere eyes wide open.

"I want you to be my boyfriend."

What?

His first instinct is to pinch himself. This couldn't be happening. Louis Tomlinson asking him - well, telling him - to be his boyfriend? He had to be dreaming.

"You're kidding me, right?" He chuckles, but Louis' face didn't even flinch for a moment.

Oh. God.

"I am very serious, Harry." He says. "Be mine. Please." 

Louis didn't have to beg because, deep down, Harry was already his. From the very moment he sat down on his office, he belonged to him.

"Yes. I'll be your boyfriend."

Harry never knew the word 'boyfriend' could make someone smile so bright, but he was a World War I soldier who saw the face of his wife for the first time after years. And Louis was no different.

He suddenly stands up and walks towards him. Harry could anticipate what he had in mind.

"But there's something you have to promise me."

"What?"

Louis stands before him, raising his chin up with his thumb to make him look back at him.

"That you won't tell anyone about us. Not even your mum."

It was ridiculous how much he wanted to be kissed at this point.

"I've never told anything to anyone."

Well, Liam kind of knew he had feelings for him... But that didn't count, right?

"Promise." He demands.

Harry's lips separate, leaving his mouth hanging open, and he realizes he was already breathing through his mouth.

"I promise."

Now, kiss me. Please.

"Good boy."

Squatting down, Louis pulls his chin further until his lips can touch and, suddenly, all of the gentleness was gone. His hand replaces his one finger, now pulling him closer by his neck as they drown into a deep kiss. Harry felt every single nerve ending about to explode with euphoria. The now sweeter taste that his lips allowed was for him only, those hands meant to touch his body only, his heart beating for him only. Louis was his. His boyfriend. 

"You have to tell me how you always know what I'm thinking of." He says as Louis keeps his hands on his face.

"A master never reveals his tricks, Mr. Styles."

Louis stands up, holding out a hand. Harry takes it and is dragged to his feet.

"But, for you, I'll open an exception."

For a moment Harry completely forgot they were still in motion and he was probably not taking advantage of the astounding view as much as he should. But, in a world with so many beautiful sights around him, Louis would always steal his attention.

"You've been dying for my touch since we got out of the car."

True.

"You wanted to hold me in the street and kiss me in front of everyone. But you held back, because you know we can't."

Louis runs his thumb over his cheek in a comforting way.

"Am I right?"

Harry sighs, wanting to lean against his warmth and be absorbed by it.

"You are."

"But we're alone now." Louis says, staring right into his eyes with concealed mischief.

We are.

"Well, we can still be seen when the Ferris goes down, but when it's up in the air they can't see what we're doing."

Harry bites his lip playfully, trying to disguise the sexual tension that was starting to build up inside that tiny, constricting space.

"Hmm... So what are you thinking about?" He asks, since he couldn't read minds unlike some people.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

Song: Breathe Me In - Laura Welsh

Louis' hand falls down.

"Come." He holds it out again and Harry takes it with no hesitation.

They circumambulate the table to sit back down on the most sheltered side of the capsule, where it was even hard for the other people on the Ferries to see them. Harry was afraid, he couldn't deny it, that Louis would go a little too far. Because the truth was that they were in public, at the reach of everyone's gaze.

"I need your blazer."

Harry takes it out and gives it to him without questioning. Looking out, he notices they were almost on top again and it was getting hotter by the minute in there.

Before doing anything with it Louis puts his hand on his leg, running his fingers from side to side as he catches his lost gaze for himself.

"Do you trust me?"

Harry stares down at the fidgety hand on him and when he looks up he finds safety in his unblinking eyes.

"Yes."

Next thing Louis is on his knees, crouching down under the table where he sat down.

He won't.

"We have to be sneaky." Louis begins, fingers running up his legs from his ankles to his outer thighs. "And quick."

Harry had a bad feeling about where his hands were going to end up. Yet, there was something out of this world about having Louis so submissively bowed down before him, ready to pleasure him. Usually he was the one doing that, but he would be lying if he said receiving wasn't even better.

"Lay it over me." Louis orders as he unbuttons his pants, eyes still on him.

"What?"

Harry couldn't rationalize what was happening anymore. This was all new to him. He felt frightened and thrilled and uneasy all at once.

"You blazer. Cover me with it."

Oh God.

Reaching out, Harry does his best to cover Louis' body with it, but his head was still showing. The sight was hilarious but, at the same time, insanely erotic regarding they were in plain sight.

"All I ask of you is to keep your hands on the blazer and a straight face. Eat the truffles. They might help you to stay quiet."

Eat? How?!

Harry feels his hand sneak inside his pants. He missed that friction of a foreign hand.

"Say you understand."

It didn't seem so hard, well, except for the eating part. But he was confident he was going to pass the test.

"I understand."

Suddenly, there's a cold hand touching him over his sea blue panties, touching him where he was hardest.

"That's my boy."

Holy shit.

Louis manages to get his grey pants to the curve of his knees. He leaves kisses on his soft, milky thighs, watching from under his eyelashes how Harry sighed and lifted his shoulders as his body relaxed under him.

"You're mine. Only mine."

Yes... yes... yes.  

Feeling the need to let his head fall back, Harry decides to hold onto his glass of champagne and force a mouthful down his throat. Although it felt closed to any food or drink, it was in fact extremely dry.

He feels his warm tongue over his growing bulge, mildly licking him to shivers. In a quick impulse Harry grasps the edge of the table. His nails scratch the smooth, polished surface in hope for self-control.

"Louis..."

Louis' tongue stops moving as he looks up at him

"Shh! Eat the truffles."

Sighing, Harry reaches forward to grab the box and take a bite on one of them. They were, indeed, great. Sweet, creamy, lavish, intense and...

Oh, God!

Suddenly, Louis' wrapping his mouth around him and making him jolt in his seat. All Harry wanted was for him to stop the torture and get it over with, but he wasn't capable of asking him that. Not when they were starting to go down. But, at the same time, he was almost hard, and it would be really painful and embarrassing if he didn't come soon.

"Louis, you have to... I have to come." He says, feeling his body writhe and tense up.

"Why would I do that?"

What? No... No.

"Please." He's all he can utter while Louis mouths at his balls, letting go of them with a plop.

Hmm... That's it.

"We're almost down, Harry."

"Please."

To his surprise, Louis gets out from under the table, standing up and leaving him there with his pants down and a boner.

Fuck.

Harry felt like crying. He couldn't believe Louis had just made him hard and decided not to relive him.

"What are you doing?"

"We have to go." Louis tells him, holding his blazer under his arm.

"Have you seen my state?" He points to his erection with both hands, anger and frustration starting to build in him.

"I have, but we can't procede."

Harry makes a wry face and turns away disbelieving when Louis glances outside, ignoring his whimpering fret. 

"The ride is coming to an end. I'm sorry."

Gulping, Harry starts pulling his pants back up into place.

So, this is how our relationship is going to be...

"I want to finish you in my car." Louis tells him when he's standing up.

"Would you now, Mr. Tomlinson?"

"Harry..." Louis snarls in a warning tone.

"What?" He asks, facing him.

"I said I was willing to make you come. You don't want that?" 

Willing?!

"I have two hands and a box full of sex toys. If that's such a burden I won't bother you."

Louis starts walking towards him, prey eyes and a sharp jawline.

"Harry, if we were up high you'd be whining on my lap right now."

That sounded great. But he couldn't do everything Louis wanted and how he wanted it. That wasn't for him. He had his own needs and desires too, but that wasn't a valid reason to tell people what to do.

"Too bad I'm about to go home, right?" He mocks, a sardonic smile playing on his face.

Louis' hand comes alive under his shirt, feeling how hot Harry's skin felt in that cold weather. It was because of him.

"I won't be driving, though."

Harry lets out a long sigh. He hated how manageable he became every time Louis touched him. It was as if he was made of a mix of butter and clay.

"Why are you so possessive and controlling?" He fights back.

Louis' hand was getting dangerously close to his chest, but people weren't able tell from how close their bodies were. Still, it made him uncomfortably turned on.

"Why are you such a witty smart mouth?" Louis questions, his hand taking over Harry's perky nipple.

"Don't answer my question with another question." Harry says, holding back the ineluctable need to moan. "It's annoying."

"You're annoying." Louis leans his head forward, their mouths breathing against each other. "But I don't care."

 

Song: What You Need (Unreleased Version) -The Weeknd

Harry follows him back to his car with his blazer buttoned all the way down. That was a situation that he couldn't avoid, even if he wanted. Even if he had promised himself nothing sexual would go on between them that night. It wasn't his fault, though. He knew that. But now there was no turning back.

The driver is sitting on the front seat when they get in, patiently waiting for Louis' order to start the car. But the plans had changed. This time the air was thicker, hitting unbearable temperatures, specially now that they were basically alone in a tiny cubicle only a seat away from each other.

"Where, Mr. Tomlinson?" The driver asks, looking at Louis through the rear-view mirror.

"Back to his house."

Uff...

For a moment he thought Louis was going to take him to his place. Not that he didn't want to go to his house, but not so late in the night, and definitely not when he had a problem that big in his hands. Well, not yet.

Louis makes one last request.

"Sam, roll up the partition, please?"

His malicious smile grows as the partition closes up, separating them from Sam. The inside felt like they were in a smaller version of a limo, isolated from the driver in their own dark, luxurious compartment. Harry liked that privacy.

"Content?"

Harry rolls his eyes at him because, yes, he was very content. But Louis always managed to get his way and that was stupefyingly irritating.

"On my lap." Louis orders, his voice quiet because they could be easily heard, yet with the same amount of strictness as if he had yelled it.

Harry pouts his lips, but he was smiling like a little kid on the inside. At least he kept his word.

Throwing his blazer onto the floor, he turns around and climbs onto his lap, feeling Louis help him adjusting his body over him with his hands on his waist.

"You couldn't go home without being spanked, could you?" He whispers into the crook of his neck, making the little hairs in that area bristle and contaminate the ones down his spine.

Harry smiles against the seat, biting his lip.

"I don't like sleeping on my back anyways."

"I can tell you don't." Louis starts yanking his pants down. "And that would be a shame, really."

Lowering his lace panties, Louis grabs a handful of porcelain flesh, kneading it between his fingers as he hears the first string of soft moans come out of his mouth. And that was a green light to his palm. It hits against him with enthusiasm, killing the longing Harry had felt for that carnal sensation.

"You want more?"

Does he have to ask?

"Yes." Harry breathes out, his body aching for more, so he ruts against his stiff thighs to relieve the need for more.

"And I want you to call me Sir when I'm spanking you. Are we clear?"

"Yes." Harry replies impatiently. He liked that. He liked that very much.

Louis raises his hand.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Sir." Harry replies, smirking for how filthy he felt in that moment. The fact that Sam was right in the front seat and could possibly hear them was even more thrilling.

"Good boy."

He spanks him again, harder and steadfast this time. But he doesn't retreat. His palm keeps hitting with the same intensity, only giving him a few seconds to breathe before going back to work.

"You have to learn to bite your tongue, Harry." He affirms. "Good boys are polite." 

He captures Harry's reddening skin between his teeth and pulls it up, making him hiss and shift on his lap. 

"I'm sorry." He whispers. He actually wasn't sorry for anything, but he knew that was going to put a smile on his face.

Suddenly, the fondling of his hand comes to an end.

"I have a contract I want you to sign."

"A contract?" Harry asks, surprised, as he turns his neck to look at him. It made no sense to him. Why would Louis want him to sign a contract right at that point?

"Yes."

"For what possible purpose?"

"You'll see then. Don't worry about it now."

How is that possible?

"Please. Just tell me what's it about." He solicites, moving out of his lap to sit and stare at him in the eyes.

"I have it in my house and I was hoping you would go there one of these days for us to discuss it. There's some lines that are open to alteration because, above it all, I want you to want to sign it." He explains, noticing how Harry knit his brows in confusion. "But we'll talk about that later, okay?"

Louis' eyes fall down to his own lap and Harry follows him with his gaze, realizing he was hard as well.

"Okay." He breathes.

"Now let's hurry because in less than thirty minutes we're at your house." 

It took no order for Harry to jump onto his lap, eager for all that Louis would give him. He loved the powerful sensation of straddling him and having his two vigorous hands plunged into his arse. 

"What do you want me to do to you, baby?"

"I want..." Harry begins, wetting his lips to make them ready for his abuse. "... your tongue..." he leans forward, feeling the sweet brush of Louis' lips against his as they submerge in each other's eyes. "... inside me."

Louis notices his thirst and takes possession of his lower lip, pulling it gently before saying:

"I'm afraid you have to be more thorough about that."

Really? Playing dumb?

"You know exactly what I mean." He drawls out. Louis gropes his perky buttocks, making him jerk forward.

"Then tell me."

If it wasn't for the fact that the car was moving and they were both painfully turned out, Harry would surely get out of the car just like his brain was inciting him to do. Yet his body spoke louder in that moment and his mind made little to no sense.

"Eat me like your favorite ice cream." He whispers, and he's amazed with how fast a single glass of champagne made him speak his mind.

He notices Louis' eyes widening, although infinitesimally. Even he was surprised with himself for such dirty, provoking response.

"Oh. You're wish is my command, Mr. Styles..." He tells him as he reaches up to caress his face, his thumb tracing his lower lip the way Harry knew he loved to do. "Turn around."

As he falls to his hands hand knees, he promises himself that he will be quiet no matter how good Louis is, just in case the radio isn't playing loud enough at the front. He was capable of that, he had to be, if he wanted to able to face his driver again.

Harry feels his underwear being pulled down to his knees, this time freeing his leaking member.

"It's delectable to see you like this, all vulnerable and exposed." Louis hums from behind him.

Is it really?  He thinks to himself. But his subconscious quickly steps in. If he didn't think you were good enough you wouldn't even be here.

Louis takes advantage of his momentary reverie to snake his arm around his waist, his cunning thumb going down to toy with his head.

"Hmm." He moans inside of his own mouth, astonished with the sudden, sterling invasion.

"You like that?" Louis asks, leaving a kiss on his shoulder.

His body shifting to the sides like an old, unstable boat is enough of an answer for him.

"Let's get you out of this shirt first."

With an ingrained dexterity, Louis manages to remove his button-up shirt without needing him to turn around, leaving him with nothing on but his low rise panties. Then, he holds him in place as he banks his head inside of him. His tongue makes no ceremony before entering through the thick, tight walls.

"Oh." Harry chokes out a silent moan. "Jesus..."

He only remembers Louis had his hand on his member when it starts pumping it, and Harry thinks he sees stars with his closed eyes. He could never get tired of that.

Out of the blue, Louis pulls back. Harry could feel his breathing against his skin, and he was about to complain when he finally speaks up.

"Can you, like... hum..." Louis says, his finger poking in and out teasingly, making Harry have to swallow down a whimper. He bet Louis was stuttering just to make him suffer. "... Shave it for me? Could you do that?"

Oh.

"Y-yes." He coughs, fingers turning into the shape of claws. He was so ready. "Yes."

"Good boy."

Louis has him coming in his hand in less than two minutes. He lends him his handkerchief for him to clean himself and not stain the immaculate leather seats, but rapidly pulls him against his chest once he has his clothes back on.

"I can't believe we just did that with your driver right there." Harry says, his head feeling heavy with every kiss Louis placed on it.

"You don't have to worry about Sam. Even if he hears anything, he will never tell. He's an authentic mute."

"Good to know." Harry sighs in response, although his body was starting to shut off. But he didn't want to fall asleep again, it felt wrong and rude.

Louis' arms come around to secure him against himself, his nose buried in his curls to inhale the fresh apple scent they let out.

"You can fall asleep. I'll wake you when you're home."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

                                                                         

 

Song: New Love - Dua Lipa

The next day the butterflies awaken as he does and follow inside of him with every step he takes. These were the kind you know were there to stay for days, weeks, months, and make your heart pound in your chest as you smile like a fool with just one thought. That was a feeling he'd never known before. But him and the weather weren't on the same boat.

When he wobbles into the kitchen for a quick breakfast before having to put up with another tedious, ashen Monday, he's faced with his mother's oddly familiar frown over the mug she was drinking from.

"Good morning." He says light-heartedly, trying to brush off the suspicions coming from her inquisitive stare.

"Good morning, Sweat Pea. You look rather joyous today."

She halts for a moment while Harry gets himself a bottle of water and the pitcher he had his overnight smoothie on from the fridge. He could only hope she was taking a sip from her usual Yorkshire tea and not watching him.

"Did the dinner go well?" She breaks her silence. Harry turns to look at her.

"Hmm, yeah. It went great, actually."

Oh shit. She isn't talking about 'the dinner', but the dinner I was supposed to have with Ricky...

"Really? How did he react?"

He gets a mason jar as he thinks of a believable answer. Since he had met Louis all he seemed to do was lie - even more.

"He honestly didn't care. Probably had someone else already." He babbles against the blue straw.

I should act hurt. Channel the pain you felt when he dumped you. No, don't do it. It's over. Let it go, Elsa. You have Louis now. Louis... Fuck.

Anne pushes back the chair beside her, her face a weighing down with what seemed to be a mixture of disappointment and sympathy.

"Oh, Harry. Sit down, we can talk about it... if you want."

No. Definitely not.

"It's good, mum. I'm not sure if I loved him anyway." It slips of out his mouth. Blunt but honest.

She frowns with her chin up, confused. 

"Why do you say that? You seemed to be so in love with him..."

Love? Being forced and controlled and humiliated? Love wasn't that. He knew that now.

"You were right, he's not right for me. And I just want to forget him."

"I'm very happy to hear that." She tells him, standing up with her arms spread wide. "Come here."

As he falls against her sweet, motherly warmth, something disquieting pops up in his mind. "I have a contract I want you to sign."

His mind had been racing with that sentence all night while he tossed around in his bed, trying to fall asleep. Yet, he didn't find a reason as to why he'd want him to sign a contract nor what for. But he was still underage, so maybe he wouldn't be able to sign anything without his mother's consent.

"If you need anything just come to me. You know that, right?" She says with a faded smile as she lets go.

"I do. Don't worry, mum." He says, giving back her smile.

Anne's hand remains on his arm as she stares at him in admiration.

"Oh, Harry, I love the incredibly smart, beautiful man you're becoming."

Smart? Not much. And certainly not beautiful either.

Harry kisses her forehead, wanting to get away as soon as possible. His mother had that special power about her that made him want to tell her all his deepest secrets for she's so understanding and warm, not to mention great listener. But he just couldn't, by any means, confess it.

"I love you mum. I'm late now."

He finishes his juice in less than a minute, knowing that would give him a stomachache if he ate something with it. But it was better than being rebuked by Mrs. Jones in front of the whole classroom. When he's done, he leaves the mason jar on the sink and turns away in a hurry.

"Bye, honey. Have a good day!" She says. "Oh. We have to talk about your sessions with Dr. Tomlinson when you get back."

Harry stops in his tracks, his pulse suddenly thudding three times faster. Oh, no...

"What for? I've told you they're going well."

"I know, Harry. But I want to know if you feel better since you started seeing him."

Oh, definitely.

"I do. Much better." He discloses, fingers playing with his plastic bottle to help with the unbidden rush of anxiety.

"Great. Because I went to see him and he said you're making progress."

"You met him?" He says, completely stupefied with such reveal, but even for the love of God he can't seem to find the strength to close his mouth.

She puts her tea down with her usual mildness and caution.

"Yes. We talked about you for a bit and he said he'll have the diagnostic before the month is over."

Oh no... Does this mean I'm never going to see him again?

"He's really delightful and attentive. You're surely in good hands."

You have no idea how good they are.

"Yeah. We'll talk about it later, okay?" He solicites as he heads to the living room, sure his mom would be following right behind. 

"Sure. Is that all you're going to eat? Harry you need to-"

"I really have to go now, mum." He rushes to say, already knowing where that conversation was heading. If he didn't stop her now, she'd offer to make him a sandwich and he'd be forced to eat it, even though he wasn't hungry at all.  "I'll eat something at school."

"Promise?"

He stoops over the couch to grab his creased satchel. 

"I promise." He mumbles, getting up. "Bye!"

 

The first period with Mrs. Jones takes what seems to be forever and a day to go by. He hated math with a passion, even more when he was called to solve equations with weird signs and letters he tried but never understood. It should be illegal. He couldn't understand the need to teach such useless thing at school. Would he have to solve an equation to know the speed limit of the road? No. Would he have to solve an equation to know the price on a tag? No.  Useless.  

Liam, on the other hand, loved Maths with a passion. Of course he did, he was a total nerd after all. But who was Harry to complain? It had earned him a handful of finished homework and answers to class and test questions.

"You couldn't even get the square root of seventy right." Liam says as soon as he sits down. For him everything was "very easy".

"I'm sorry if I don't have a calculator in my brain, Kant." He retorts, changing the 'a' for an 'u'. But Liam doesn't get the memo.

"Kant wasn't a mathematician."

"Yeah, but that doesn't stop you from being one."

"Jeez... Someone's bitter today." Liam's voice sounded offended, but he wasn't more than Harry. "I'm sorry for what I said."

"It's okay. I'm actually dumb as fuck." He utters, lowering his voice so the teacher wouldn't start yelling at them. By any means he wanted their friendship to derail and have to sit next to a silent ghost for the next weeks.

"Harry, this is all wrong." Mrs. Jones admonishes as she turns her turgid eyes away from the board. "You better start doing your homework or I won't be able to pass you."

Harry nods at his teacher. She was right, after all. He really, really needed to get back in touch with his private tutor or he could put his own academic future at risk.

Quickly, Liam gets his attention back, picking up where they left off.

"Hey, don't say that! That's not true." He interjects. "Believe me or not, you're smarter than most people I know. Just not at Maths, but everyone's got their weaknesses. And I can always help you with it again, if you want."

"Thanks. But I'll find myself a good tutor if my older one doesn't take me back." He replies. "And I'm sorry."

Liam smiles understandingly and quickly changes subjects. That was one of his top skills.

"Have you heard about the new student?"

"No." Harry says, fingers fidgeting with his black pen. And, as if it was God's mission to punish him today with such pleasing curse, Louis' hands appear in his mind, strong, vigorous, bony like he remembered. But Liam nimbly shakes him back to the real world.

"There's a new student in our school. Apparently everyone knows him. He's like the Irish party buddy."

Even though it seemed ridiculous and very unlikely, the thought that it could be a brunette, Irish guy he got on with the night Ricky dumped him flickers in his hectic mind. It would have to be a work of fate for a coincidence like that to happen.

"He's Irish?"

Liam's eyebrows shoot up.

"Indeed. And very good looking from what I've heard. Got all the girls crushing on him already."

Well, the guy from the bar was definitely a hottie...

Mrs. Jones glares at them after she sends Leah - the girl who always has her hand in the air in every class - to correct Harry's mistakes. Well, re-do the entire exercise, to be more precise.

Harry peeks at Liam when he's no longer the subject of class conversation.

"He's from our year?"

"Yup. Becky is already close with him. She'll be hanging out with Niall during lunch break. We can meet him together."

Niall? Jesus...

 

 

Their quick trek through the school's main hallway is agonizing for him. There was an heavy, sweat and bleach combination flowing in the air current, and that's all it takes to make him sick like drinking a myriad of unusual foods blended together. But he, plus a group of popular, rich girls with detox juices on hand - their only sustenance when the fairly hot season was approaching, seem to be the only ones to notice.

"Are you going to tell me where you went last night?" Liam seeks to find out as he completely catches him off guard. Maybe in the short moment of surprise before the sweat started looming he could attain it.

"Nowhere." The word rolls out of his lips like a Bentley starting engine. And he usually wasn't the one who talked fast like that. "I've told you: I was just doing my stuff."

He never wanted to get to their lockers this bad before. And the smell wasn't the biggest reason at that point. He thoroughly hated all the questioning he'd been having lately. It felt like he was in a daily interrogatory because he committed some crime, when in fact he was just secretly dating the man of his dreams. And it was starting to become harder than he imagined.

"Harry," Liam says, walking over to the nearest corner so they could talk more privately. "I know you since Primary School. I can tell you're lying without looking at you, and so does your mum. So maybe I should just ask her."

"I'm sorry, but I'm allowed to have my own secrets, okay?"

"Yes, but, as your best friend, if I sense there's danger around you, I'm obliged to protect you."

"Is that so? You're not my older brother." Harry retorts,  the palm of his hand finding the white brick wall that had over a hundred centuries.

"Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I am. And I love you way too much to let something bad happen to you."

Harry rolls his eyes, exhaustion starting to take over him. If Louis was here, I'd be on his lap by now. Yes, Liam was a few centimeters taller, but that didn't mean he could control him like he an older sibling. For that he already had Gemma, although she wasn't so controlling.

"You're making a big deal out of the smallest of things. How many times do I have to reassure you it's nothing serious?"

Liam scrutinize his face for a second, as if he was trying to see through the crystal emeralds on his eyes what really happened.

"Then you can tell me." He begs, staring at him like the epitome of trust.

I have to think of something quickly... Something that can match up with what I told my mum in case he asks her.

"Alright!" He shakes his head in his direction. "I went to see Ricky. Happy?"

The famous Liam Payne frown comes back to the surface.

"But, why?"

"Now that's our own business."

"Fair enough." Liam chocolate eye's find the dirty pavement in an act of resignation. "But you didn't get back together with that bellend, did you?"

"No." He affirms. And just thinking about taking a dickhead like Ricky back almost had him throwing up. "Never again."

He could hear Liam's sigh of relief, despite the untamable noise around them.

"I'm glad."

He hears someone call out for him all of a sudden.

"Harry?"

As he turns his face, he finds Mr. Harding  approaching them with his hands stuck inside the pockets of his black pants.

"Yes, Mr. Harding?" He says politely.

"Sorry for interrupting, but I have something I need to talk about with you regarding your Cold War essay... Could you could come with me for a minute?"

Harry glances over at Liam, who carelessly shrugs in response. He wonders if the he had messed up his final mark of History for a cursory, one in the morning essay.

"Uh, sure."

 

He follows Mr. Harding back to his classroom, his stomach quietly grunting for food by then, and he instantly regrets not having eaten anything in the morning like he had promised his mom.

"So, what do you want to talk about, Mr. Harding?" He asks as he steps inside, but he doesn't find his teacher's briefcase anywhere.

"Don't play dumb, Harry." Mr. Harding steps forward. "You know very well why you're here."

He doesn't even give him time to anticipate his next move, making the startling thud of the door being shut be heard throughout the room.

"I'm-"

Harry can't even tell him no, as Eric already had his mouth against his. He wouldn't say it was bad, not at all. Mr. Harding was a remarkable kisser. But, even if he wanted, he couldn't even be compared to Louis.

Louis was a whole other level, one of a kind. Everything was perfect about him, even though he knew such thing didn't exist. Yet, it did in his new world. And so did magic, for he was irrefutably under his spell.

Harry slips one hand between their bodies when he feels his teacher's hand roam down and pushes him off.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." He says, determinedly shutting off the desire to get himself between his legs and satisfy both of them.

"Why not?"

"I'm with someone new."

He sees a trace of defeat in Eric's eyes when he looks up.

"But that never stopped you before."

He was right, but things were different now. And, although Louis never mentioned their relationship being strictly monogamous, he didn't want to screw it up over the first guy who asked for a blowjob.

"It does now."

"I see..." Mr. Harding runs his hand from his forehead to the back of his neck. "It's fine... it's fine. Let's just pretend it never happened, okay? Can you keep it a secret?"

"Yeah, you can trust me." Harry says, realizing his entire life was changing since he met the owner of his favorite shades of blue eyes. He never liked having a case with his teacher, but they had real chemistry and, despite everything, Eric was always good to him.

"Alright, so I guess that's it." Mr. Harding presses his lips against each other as he opens the door behind him.

Harry never thought saying goodbye to casual hookups with his teacher could feel this bittersweet. But he forces a small smile to his lips.

"Thank you, Mr. Harding. See you in class."

"Goodbye, Harry." Eric says when he's walking out.

 

Song: Butterflies Pt. II - Lana Del Rey

He walks to the cafeteria with an unwelcome thought wandering around his mind. What if Mr. Harding has developed feelings for me?  A few days ago that would have been crossed out of his list of random thoughts right away, but now he wasn't so sure. Eric seemed somehow hurt and sad about ending a non-existent relationship and, besides, Harry had never heard about him being in a relationship. So it sounded possible, albeit he didn't want it to be true.

Liam is found sitting at the furthest table of the cafeteria with a brunette girl he recognized to be Becky sat next to him along with an equally-stylish blonde girl, who he assumed to be Becky's friend - and two other guys he'd never seen around school. One of them who looked rather familiar.

"Took you a while, H." Liam says as he approaches the small group, making everyone turn their focus away from their plates and towards him. And, in that moment, the thing he feared the most had become a reality when the beautiful Irish guy he hooked up with in that gloomy night was the new student everyone was talking about.

Holy shit...

"Yeah, I was dealing with Mr. Harding's pickiness. But it's all done." He tells him, trying not to stare too much at the sky blue eyes who were begging for his attention. Niall, if he remembered his name correctly, didn't seem half the surprised Harry was, he just quietly smiled over his stacked up pizza slices. It was as if their reunion didn't affect him at all. Maybe he doesn't remember me. I'm that forgettable, honestly. But he looked moderately different from the picture of him he had in mind, most part probably due to the different choice of clothing.

"Great." Liam laughs, probably remembering that one time in Harry had to re-write his entire poem six times until it was to Mr. Harding's liking. "What are you waiting for? Sit down with us."

Since Liam was at the edge of the table and there wasn't an empty chair on his other side, he decides to sit next to the light-brown haired skater guy, far away as possible from the guy from the club.

"Harry, this is Dakota." Liam points out to the flawless, blonde girl he had seen a couple of times in the hallways who was sat across from him. She gives Harry an adorable smile before Liam proceeds. "Niall, who just moved from Ireland, and his cousin Josh."

"Hi." They both say in unison in their contagious thick Irish accents and keep staring at him like he had a drawing on his forehead.

"Nice to meet you." Harry just says with a reciprocating smile, not finding better words, as he holds onto his mango juice for dear life.

Just when he thought things couldn't go any better, he remembers he hadn't done the livestream he had promised his followers.

Fuck me... he whispers, closing his eyes for a second. He was sure when he checked his private e-mail there would be hundreds of sexually-frustrated men whining about his lack of consistency.

As he comes back to the real world, the conversation around him starts getting clearer.

"You should've seen his face! This little Irish Furby was blushing like mad when Mr. Malik asked him who he was!" Dakota tells between shared laughs with the group, making Niall seem apparently mad at her. But he could tell it was all just playing around. Even his Josh was laughing along.

"Yeah, you guys should've been there." Becky says, looking between Harry and Liam, a fading smile still on her face. "It was hil-arious."

The brief silence that came afterwards as Harry let himself be caught in Niall's gaze was endlessly painful. But, thankfully, he's saved by the bell. Well, the bell of his phone.

Damn, I forgot to put it on silence...

 

From: Louis

Good afternoon, Mr. Styles.

Hope you slept well last night. I was wondering if you'd be interested on having a quick session after school... There's something we still need to discuss before Wednesday.

I'll be waiting for your reply.

12:28 P.M

 

His heart literally stops while he reads the message Louis had sent him. It was as if, in those mere seconds, the entire world had disappeared. An inevitable smile lights up his dull Monday face, but he tries his hardest for it not to last longer than it'd be socially acceptable so that his friends wouldn't start staring at him like he was brainsick.

He takes a deep breath before typing out:

 

To: Louis

Good afternoon, Mr. Tomlinson.

I did sleep very well, thank you, but not on my back as you might have predicted.

How long would this potential session last? I have to be home before dinner time.

And what is happening on Wednesday?

12:30 P.M

 

He types out and sits back on his chair waiting for the Louis' response.

 

From: Louis

I'm glad you managed to sleep well after taking so many naps.

Regarding your lovely back, I hope you've rubbed some lotion on it. I don't want you hissing. Not for now.

 I was thinking about a fifteen-minute session, what do you say?

Wednesday is our next appointment.

12:31 P.M

 

Oh. Did he really get annoyed? He thinks to himself. But he wouldn't let him have the upper hand.

 

To: Louis

I'm sorry to inform you, but I'm usually not that sleepy. Guess I was feeling a little tired, maybe bored even.

But no, I haven't smeared my bottom with lotion because yesterday was not a shower day at my house. I will, though, tomorrow.

Fifteen minutes? Didn't you mean a quickie?

And I'm afraid you're going to have to willingly reschedule my appointment. I have visits coming over on Wednesday. You should've asked me beforehand.

P.S: Why are you complaining about my naps?

12:34 P.M

 

Knowing he would have a pleasant, long comeback on its way, he decides to get back to his lonely lettuce sandwich.

"Interesting conversation, uh?" Liam says from the other side, talking over the girls' rousing talk.

"It was just my sister." He shrugs as carelessly as he could. "She sent me a funny meme."

He hears his anticipated reply arriving and immediately puts his phone on silence, ignoring Liam's suspicious look.

 

From: Louis

Mr. Styles, by the tone I'm getting from your message we better make it thirty minutes instead.

I am not complaining. Although I must reprehend you for not telling me you were bored. There were so many ways to entertain and excite you...

If you can't shower everyday at your house, perhaps you can come over mine. I have a shower, a bathtub and a jacuzzi, and I can let you choose.

I will reschedule your appointment then, but you should've told me in advance. And do I have the pleasure to know who these important visits are?

P.S: You better start working out harder, or you'll pass out like Sleeping Beauty after I do the things I'm planning on doing to you.

12:37 P.M

 

Bingo. Mr. Curious was angry. But Harry wasn't having his rich-man controlling tendencies either.

 

To: Louis

Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr. Tomlinson. But if your fifteen minutes meant thirty, then your thirty mean sixty, and I can't stay that long. 

I didn't tell you because you were so focused on your own thoughts and I didn't want to interrupt you. Now I know.

But don't be so conceited. I'd rather wash myself in a sink than using your fancy showers. Plus, it sounds really dodgy. You could watch me clean my filthy body from your security cameras and record it. I'm still underage if you don't remember. 

P.S: You sound like a pedophile. And I'm sure I'd be up to any of the things you have in mind...

12:40 P.M

 

He slides his phone down the front pocket of his jeans with a smug smirk flourishing on his lips, determined to ignore his message until he finished his meal.

"We were all making plans to hang out on the skate park after school." Liam tells him, realizing he was back down on Earth. "Josh and Niall are going to show us some stunts. Are you up for it?"

"Well, I have an appointment after school. So I really can't make it today." He says, noticing how Niall's face suddenly changed. He looked surprisingly upset. "But next time I'll come with you. Promise." 

"With Dr. Tomlinson?" Liam asks all of a sudden, making Harry want to give him "the eyes". How dare he?!

"Yes." He says quietly.

Once he had finished eating, he takes no time to go check his phone.

 

From: Louis

You're right, indeed. I'm amazed. But I assure you you won't be wasting time.

Definition of Pedophilia (according to Wikipedia): 

Pedophilia or paedophilia is a psychiatric disorder in which an adult or older adolescent experiences a primary or exclusive sexual attraction to prepubescent children.

I didn't know you still consider yourself to be a children.

Why would I want to see you wash your "filthy body"? I don't intend on going to jail so soon.

P.S: You can bite your arm off about my master plans.

12:46 P.M

 

Master plans... Sure.

 

To: Louis

Oh, so you confirm to have a sexual attraction for me, Mr. Tomlinson? I didn't know that. But your lucky if you can contain yourself for a few more months, as I'm almost turning 18. Then you won't have to worry about a thing, except having my consent. 

P.S: I am in no way wondering what those perverted plans of yours might be, to your surprise.

12:48 P.M

 

He was.

 

From: Louis

That's music to my ears. When is your birthday, actually? Not that I'm thinking about making a big surprise for you. Although I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to contain myself for that long if you keep torturing me.

Please confirm today's appointment.

P.S: You can deny all you want via text messages, but if I was there you wouldn't even think  about lying to me.

12:50 P.M

 

Is he calling me a liar?

 

To: Louis

May, 1st 1999. It's in your files. And I didn't want you to make me a big surprise either, so...

How am I torturing you, Mr. Tomlinson? I'm only at school, having lunch.

Fine. I'll be there.

P.S: Since we're finally talking about important facts, when is your birthday?

12:51 P.M

 

From: Louis

Sorry for not remembering your birthdate, but I'm not at work right now and I don't have the habit of knowing my patient's birthdays by heart.

You know damn well how you torture me, Mr. Styles. Don't pull the innocent mask out. You may still be a virgin, but not from many things.

P.S: My birthday is on the 24th of December. What a great time, isn't it?

12:54 P.M

 

His fingers fire up over the keyboard on the screen.

 

To: Louis

Patients? I thought I was your boyfriend, or am I still just a patient to you? Guess we should've talked more about us over dinner last night rather than my ex-relationships.

Still don't know what you mean by "torture".

P:S: Year..?

12:55 P.M

 

He hears the bell go off, signaling the lunch break was over, sadly.

 

From: Louis

Of course you are my boyfriend, but you're also my patient, and I only read my patient's private informations once. I apologize. I just don't like speaking of my personal life this early on a relationship, and I didn't think it was fair to make you do it.

P.S: 1986. I'm old.

12:56 P.M

 

"Harry, you coming or wahat?" Liam asks. Everyone was standing up already but him.

Whoa... 1986. He's thirty.

 

To: Louis

Apologies accepted.

See you later. x

P.S: People like old men, haven't you heard?

12:57 P.M

 

Locking his phone, he stands up to grab his satchel. He wasn't expecting a reply, but his phone buzzes anyway. And that's all he needs to get through the last (exhausting) classes of the day.

 

From: Louis

Laters, sweetcheeks. X

P.S: I'm glad they do.

12:58 P.M

Chapter Text

************

As soon as he steps outside the gates of hell, errm, school, he fishes his phone out of the tight pocket of his black jeans and messages his mom:

To: Mum

Mr. Tomlinson called for an emergency session after school. I don't think you should worry about it.

Can you drive me there? If you can't I'll call an Uber.

Anne worked as solicitor in a top Law firm located in West London. Her job was a second family to her, so Harry had to learn to live with an empty house most of the time, but also how to rely on his sister when his mom wasn't available. It wasn't hard for him now, more of something he'd gotten used to for being a teenager. But it didn't feel so routined when he was eight.

His father - Des - died in a car crash when he was at school. He wouldn't say he was as close to his dad as he was with his mom, but coming home from school to an untreated garden and a quiet living room with no one to talk about his day with or help him with homework was a knife through his heart, a knife which left a deep hole in it.

It took Anne an entire year accompanied with weekly psychologist sessions to get over her husband's death.

Des and her met when they were in Uni and it was as if they were made for each other, like soulmates. They got married at nineteen and spent twenty-one years together, not once falling out of love. So Anne had to drawn herself into work to take her mind off such tragic occurrence. That's why Harry felt even more alone.

Gemma was his biggest support in that dark time, trying to remain calm and not cry in front of his younger brother, although she was completely breaking on the inside. She was only thirteen, but she was already a very strong and selfless woman. Harry still remembered how she used to lie in his bed until he fell asleep every night for the next months, sometimes drifting asleep with him as she sang him hoarse lullabies. She was his mom in that period, and that earned them the tight bond they had to date

His finger was a millisecond away of pressing 'send' when he ears a honk. Looking up, he finds Louis' Mercedes waiting by the curb as Sam walks out of the car and in his direction. He was not expecting that.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Styles." The charming driver says, opening the door for him. Harry looks around. Everyone was staring at him like he was a celebrity or part of a very wealthy family. That had never happened to him before but, in a stupid way, he liked it.

"Just Harry, please." He adds at the last minute, getting inside the perfectly polished car.

Louis was sitting on the left backseat as he always did.

"Good afternoon, Smooth Ass." Louis says with a fond smile that reached his eyes as Harry sits down. He looked extremely pleased to see him.

Suddenly he realizes why his private parts felt oversensitive to any sort of friction that day. Oh, god. I shouldn't have chosen these pants.

"Hello, Mr. Tomlinson." He greets, his mind going back to the though-6 A.M-shaving session in his own bathroom that had left him completely hairless down there. Maybe he had gone a bit over the top with it, for Louis didn't exactly tell him to shave everything, but he wanted to look his best for him.

"Hope you didn't forget to rub a good moisturizer all over."

"Don't worry, I'm all smooth and soft." He takes the chance to say before Sam got in, offering him his subtle side smirk. "And, by the way, why are you here?"

Louis licks his lips, eyes falling down his body. And Harry felt that, the current of sexual tension non-consensually invading him like all they ever were was animals.

"You really thought I would let you walk to my office?" Louis says, not taking his eyes from his parted lips that he yearned to kiss but he doesn't.

"I was about to ask my mom to pick me up."

The message.

Harry unlocks his phone and deletes the last paragraph before finally sending it. He pushes it back down the front pocket of his jeans when his message appears on the screen in blue.

"Well, no need to do that now."

Harry looks back up at Louis. He seemed bothered, and his eyes weren't focused precisely on his mouth anymore.

"Thank you, but I was fine with calling an Uber if she was busy."

"I don't like the thought of those crazy strangers driving you around." Louis is quick to say. Harry loved that he was so caring and protective over him, but it was a tad too much for his liking. It was as if he wanted to have full control over his life.

"I know you're old, but I didn't know you were so old-fashioned." He comments lightheartedly, praying he wouldn't take it seriously.

Louis cocks his head to his side.

"Well, blame my age, if you want."

Is he offended?

"You're not old, Louis. I was just messing with you."

Harry doesn't see his oncoming hand falling down his lap.

"Were you now? Maybe I want to mess with you too then." He says, his sass coming out to the surface. He usually wasn't like this, but Harry brought up different sides of him he didn't know of.

"Go ahead." He nods, as if boldly accepting a difficult challenge.

An eyebrow on Louis' face shoots up.

"You'll have to wait until we're in my office."

"Turns out I'm very impatient."

Out of the blue he feels a tickling sensation on his hand and, as he looks down, he comes across with Louis' fingers gently landing over his palm. The act was so minimal, yet it caused such a calming effect on him, like all of his anxiety suddenly went away.

"I knew that." Louis tells him. "And that's why you can't stop thinking about the contract or what I'm going to do to you. Or am I wrong?"

I must really have my thoughts written on my forehead...

"If you know so much about me you don't need an answer. Or are you one of those cocky guys who need constant reminder of how they were right?"

"No. I just wanted to hear those words come out of your pretty mouth. But maybe you need a bit of... stimulation."

All of a sudden his hand was on Harry's thighs, caressing the top of his knee in a way that made him shiver.

"What else do you know?" He asks, his voice coming out slightly broken. Louis hums in delight to it.

"I also know you want this." His hand travels north, unbalancing so that it runs up his inner thigh. Harry sighs as Louis gets closer to his body and his hand to his most sensitive part.

"Louis! You're driver's right there!" He whispers, wanting to shift away from his provoking touch, but his body didn't respond.

"Sam." He calls out. "Earbuds on, please."

"What?" Harry asks, paralyzed, as he sees his driver compliantly nod and put something on his ears. Louis' voice instantly gets louder to a normal conversational tone.

"I know you've been dying to know how exciting it could be to be in a car."

"Louis... Couldn't we just talk?"

Even he was surprised with what came out of his mouth. Talk? About what? He didn't understand why he felt scared all of a sudden, nor of what.

"We have plenty of time to talk in my office." Louis smirks and his hand wraps around the meat of Harry's leg with a moderate pressure.

Do we?

"Unless you want to go out with that thing between your legs."

Harry immediately looks down, refusing to believe Louis was capable of doing that to him with just a couple of implicit words in such a short period of time. But it was the truth. Oh shit. I'm hard. He hadn't even realized.

Louis leans against him, whispering in his ear:

"I can make you come any way you want me to. You just have to tell me, Sweet Cheeks."

A shiver breaks into his shoulder blades, running down his torso like feathers tickling him. The strange, momentary hesitation was far gone by then and all he wanted was to feel him against his skin.

"I'd like to...hmm" Louis bites his earlobe, making him lose his reasoning for a second. Harry could feel his hot, minty breath blowing towards him and telling him how close they were. "Have you between m-my..." Letting go of it, Louis takes his tongue out and starts cat-licking the same spot. "Legs... like the first time."

"Your wish is my command."

Louis gets down to his knees and positions himself between Harry's legs, spreading them wider- He takes no ceremony to start unbuckling his tight pants, pushing them down to his ankles.

"Jesus, Harry..." He breathes out, coming face to face with Harry's member barely restrained under a pair of white, silk panties with lace along the hem. He looked ever so pure, but Louis knew he was the farthest thing from pure.

"You like it?" Harry asks, still finding weird Louis' passion for his little obsession.

Louis' lips leave a kiss on the soft, porcelain skin of his upper thigh, before saying:

"I do. Very much." He looks up at him, a strand of hair falling from his big, messy quiff to his forehead. "You're beautiful, Harry. I've never met anyone like you."

A cozy warmth invades Harry's body, mixing itself with the settling desire on his center. Louis was the beautiful one for him, not him. Yet his words sounded so honest that made him believe he was actually a good-looking person for a moment.

"I've never met anyone like you either." He whispers, their eyes frozen on each other before Louis remembered he had to focus on his job of giving Harry what he wanted.

He captures the head of his leaking member between his lips and sucks on it over the smooth fabric. Sighing, Harry arches his back, each hand finding the closest surface to hold onto. He sees Louis smirk under him with a wicked stare playing in his face as he mouths at the hard wood.

"Hmm." He moans, feeling Louis licking him from the base to the head. It was ludicrous how Harry felt like he could come with just that.

When Louis finally decides to stop teasing and wrap his mouth around his cock, Harry wasn't able to contain himself. The moans and whimpers come out of his mouth like he was a toy and Louis constantly clicked the speaking button. He just hoped Sam couldn't see them through the rearview mirror, or decided not to look back until Louis indicated him to take his earbuds off.

"I have an idea..." Louis tells him. "What if we upgrade it?" He stops all of a sudden, causing Harry to groan for not feeling Louis on him anymore. But it wasn't for longer.

As he wonders if that idea was going to feel even better than that, he sees Louis undo the buttons of his grey polo, fully exposing his neck. And then his panties meet the black jeans pooling at his feet at last.

"Legs over my shoulders."Louis instructs, taking hold of his ankles to help him in the process. He thanked God for not deciding to put on socks that morning, as his choices usually consisted on a one vibrant color or childish patterns. And, with that, he almost forgot how he was the most vulnerable he ever was in his life in that position.

There was a bit of saliva on the corner of Louis' lips when he pulls him closer. Harry didn't know if it was from the blowjob or if he had been drooling a little bit, either way it made him regret not having kissed him when he came in. It was stupid, he knew. They were boyfriends after all - since he last checked -, but he honestly didn't remember to. It still felt weird knowing Louis was literally his boyfriend and not a huge crush like he was just a few days ago.

"I'm going to lick you up all over, and I don't want you holding anything back. Okay?"

Harry nods his head as best as he can, since he wasn't in the most comfortable position in the world. He was so contorted his back was was half resting on the seat half hanging in the air. But it wasn't too bad, specially not when Louis buried his head in him.

"Oh, God!" Harry moans, feeling the rush that it was getting eaten out in the backseat of a car with the driver right before them in day light. Louis was insane, and it was infectious.

He feels Louis' tongue travel from his hole up to his flustered head, insisting there with insatiable licks, and he had never felt more pleasure in his life.

"You like when I talk dirty to you, don't you, Princess?" Louis asks, glancing up through his lashes in a way that should be considered illegal from how obscene it was. "Can I call you princess?"

Princess? Harry ponders. He quite liked that, if he was honest. Although he never thought he'd enjoy being referred to with a female noun. From 'Sweet Cheeks' to Princess'... What is gonna come next?

"Yes." He breathes out. Everything that was happening was overwhelming for him.

"Great." Louis forms a mischievous smile on the corner of his mouth. "Then I'm going to eat you out, Princess, and I want your eyes on the street. Don't take them off until I tell you to. Okay?" He asks.

"Yes." Harry nods, taking in the beautifully erotic view before him until he couldn't look at it anymore.

"Yes what?" Louis reminds him.

Goddammit.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy."

He sees Louis lick his lips with the previous idiot smirk on his face before he has to turn his head towards the window.

The car was at a moderate speed - nearly 70 km/h -, so Harry could see every building they drove by next to a sea of strangers. London was always hectic - at any time of the day - but he quite liked it. Somehow, he felt more safe and confident to walk around the streets, for the chance of finding familiar face was minimal. If he lived in a small town he would never be comfortable to leave his house in pajamas or act crazy with his friends in fear of getting judged. That didn't really happened in big cities, because people didn't really care or maybe were more open-minded. Plus, unlike the general opinion, he believed it was easier to get kidnapped or have something bad happening to you, because there weren't people around all the time. Living in a big city was no dream, though, but it had its perks. And that was definitely one of them.

He chokes out a moan when he feels Louis' tongue penetrate his hole, caught by surprise due to the immersion in his circunstancial thoughts. He has to remind himself that he couldn't, by any means, turn his head the other way because Louis was watching and, although it was implicit, he didn't want to be spanked the second day in a row.

"Moan for me." Louis demands, speaking right against his entrance, and God, Harry was so turned on he could come right then.

"Hmm, Louis..." He whimpers as he senses a soft scraping between his thighs, like striking stones in spark ready to emit fire. It doesn't take him long to realize it was the stubble on Louis' face that was becoming spiky as it grew. But Harry didn't mind. Even though he wasn't the biggest fan of beard, he was sure Louis would pull it off. Not to mention it already felt amazing rubbing against the sensitive skin of his thighs.

The hand that was holding Harry up by his butt falls down to his throbbing member, stroking it with voracity, while the other one grabs it hard enough to make his short nails dig into it.

"I'm not gonna-" His head falls back like it had its own will, his body faltering. "Gonna last much longer."

Harry was panting by the time Louis sucked at each one of his balls and got back to his hole that was starting to clench as Harry got closer. He was painfully hard inside his jeans as well, but he chose not to be mean and focus on the writhing boy before him instead. He usually wasn't like that, but Harry somehow always made him forget about his own needs.

His eyes shut close, ignoring the muted world outside. All that existed in that moment was the two of them and the immeasurable pleasure that Louis supplied him.

"Please, Sir... Can I come?"

Louis gives him one last lick, soaking his hole, perineum, balls and cock, before focusing only on the latter.

"Yes. Look at me as you come in my mouth." That said, Louis takes hold of his member and tightly sucks at the head, throwing him over the edge. Harry sees his liquid spilling down Louis' mouth, but his eyes were starting to lose focus.

"Oh!"

Suddenly, as his sight turns white, he remembers the dream he had that night.

I was in bed with him, with only my underwear, and he was on top of me. We were about to make love. The familiar room was dark, yet he was so bright and beautiful, like everything I've dreamt of. One of his hands run down my body, fingers rubbing slightly against my member, wanting to feel all of his touch. But he doesn't stop there. He keeps going down until he's almost inserting one finger in my entrance, but I immediately stop him. "I'm a virgin, I'm sorry." I say and instantly regret it when he gets off me.

"Harry, are you okay?"

Chapter Text

                                                                               

 

"That was a hell of an upgrade." Harry says as he can't help immersing in that empty light. It was peaceful, along with the two strong arms that were enveloped around him.

He hears Louis sigh in relief.

"God, Harry. I thought you had... Never mind."

His eyelids struggle to open like manual blinds and he allows himself to rest against the body that stopped him from tumbling down, thinking: What the hell just happened?

"Do you want me to take you home?" Louis asks, gifting him a kiss on the forehead over his curly fringe. And Harry feels like melting cotton candy.

"No. I'm fine." He tells him, nuzzling his face onto the crook of his neck. A rapt smile forms on his lips. "I just... That was intense. I've never came this hard."

Louis sees the face of the boy blush with his own confession. There was something beyond adorable about his shyness for him.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, baby."

With that, Louis raises his chin with the tip of his fingers and kisses him, soft and languidly. Harry goggles his eyes at the taste. It was so weird kissing Louis for the first time in a day and have him tasting of his own cum. But it was also pretty fucking amazing.

"Hmm..." He moans in approval as Louis bites his lower lip before letting go.

"You're delicious. I'll never tell you that enough." Louis looks down at his lightly swollen, pink lips and caresses across them with his thumb. "We better get your clothes on now."

With all that had happened, Harry had completely forgotten that he was still half naked as well as the feeling of vulnerability it gave him seeing so many people walk by their car.

Although he doesn't ask for Louis to help him, he does it anyway, pulling his jeans and panties back up in place all at once with just two effective jerks.

Harry begs him to let him walk inside the building Louis worked in after he does, not wanting to draw any type of suspicions, and Louis agrees and ends up getting inside first.

Fifteen minutes later, he greets the lovely secretary at the reception and climbs to the ninth floor where Louis was impatiently waiting in his office, leaning against the wall.

"Jesus! Couldn't you've taken longer?" Louis says in his thick British accent as he walks through the door.

Harry didn't understand why he was so angry. After all, he was just being careful not to let anyone find out about their secret relationship.

He decides to stop by the door, resented with his abrupt attitude.

"Sorry for wanting to protect our relationship. Guess we should've walked inside hand in hand and let everyone know about us. Never gonna happen again, Doctor."

Could this be our first fight?

He was sacred. The last thing he wanted was for Louis to leave his life like many did before.

Taking his hands out of his pockets, Louis walks up to him in a hurried pace.

"You're right. Fuck. I'm sorry."

Harry's uprising walls quickly tumble down when Louis stands before him just to look him in the eyes, the back of his hand sweetly stroking his cheek.

"What would I do without you?" Louis says, uniting their foreheads as he closes his eyes.

The energy they felt irradiating from one to the other was unbelievable.

"It's okay." Harry tells him, knowing Louis was putting himself in a vulnerable position for him only. And that's all it takes for his wounds to open. "You're not used to this."

Louis moves away, although his eyes never leave Harry's.

"This what?"

"Hiding." Harry says, looking down at his own feet as the memories started crawling out of their graves.

"Are you?"

Song: Heaven - Troye Sivan ft . Betty Who

He takes a deep breath before he can look back up at the man who was staring at him in complete worry and muddle.

"Pretty much." He confesses. "Until two years ago all the feelings I had were attached to a rock and drowned to the bottom of my mind as soon as they threatened to come to the surface. But things slipped out of my hands when I met a guy who said he was just like me."

Looking away through the big window, he could still see his face perfectly - the face of a boy he thought would make his life feel like a Nicholas Sparks movie.

"We were too young - I was 13 at the time - but he promised he liked me too. Turns out he didn't. Jonathan was just an homophobic bastard trying to ruin my life, and when I was about to kiss him for the first time behind the gym the whole school saw it. And that's how I became "the gay kid"."

Harry takes a pause to analise the man standing before him and how he was reacting to all of it. Louis seemed calm, yet his hands were fisted in a sphere of anger, just like he knew how things went wrong for him after that "little" incident.

"Everyone made it seem so wrong. They even told me gay people were pretending to love someone of the same sex just to annoy society." He tells him with a tear rolling down his right cheek. "I didn't think it was possible to be truly, deeply in love with a man. That's why I started going to clubs and hooking up with random guys. If it wasn't possible to have feelings, at least I could satisfy my sexual apetite with what my body felt attracted to and craved."

His hand comes up to brush the pouring tears away.

"I'm not proud of this, and most things I did are illegal, I'm aware, but I was only a horny teenager who was incredibly frustrated with life just trying to understand who he really was." He smiles at the groud, remembering how everything became better after he met Louis. How he put him back in track and led him to a safe path. "But then you came, and basically saved me."

That was the last straw. Louis couldn't bare seeing the boy he loved coming undone in front of him and doing absolutely nothing. So, grabbing him by the waist, he pulls him in for the tightest hug he'd ever given, hoping it could fix the broken pieces he had glued together. It wouldn't seem like it had that big of an impact for someone watching, but Harry, for once in his life, felt truly understood.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Louis whispers into his ear as he allows all of his weight to be dropped onto the strong man who held him like he wouldn't fall if he was over a thousand pounds. Even if it was impossible, Louis manages to pull their bodies even tighter against each other, before confessing:

"I didn't think it was possible to love someone of the same gender, either. I thought it was all just some messed-up fantasy I needed to full-fill."

Although he could still use a longer hug, Harry pulls away to stare into his eyes. They were shinning too, like a crystal blue lake that only existed in a fantasy world, and he wonders if he would ever let him photograph him.

Harry needed to kiss him, so bad it was starting to tickle the top of his mouth.

"But you opened my eyes and proved it wrong." Louis says, his hands returning to Harry's face where they fit perfectly around it. "I'm real, and this is very much real, okay? And something I promise you with all my heart, Harry: I love you."

Harry's first instinct was to believe he had misheard him. But, with the hopeful and expectant expression on Louis' face that made his eyes grow bigger all of a sudden, he knew he had said it.

He told me that he loved me.

"Louis, are you sure-"

The next thing he realizes is their lips intertwined, kissing the pain away and echoing Louis' words: I love you, I love you...
That incredible, witty, intelligent, handsome man that many women and men drooled over loved him, and that was no doubt in his words. Regardless, Harry couldn't help asking himself what he did to be so lucky.

"I'm sure..." Louis kisses him one last time, soft and tenderly, yet with the same amount of passion as before. "That I love you today, and I will love you tomorrow just as much. And if we don't spend the rest of our lives together, Harry, you'll still be forever in my heart."

If he thought Noah's love declaration was the most beautiful and touching he'd ever heard, Louis had just managed to beat it. And not only because it wasn't fictional.

It could be too soon to think about it, but Harry knew then he wanted to spend his life next to the breathtaking man in front of him. He never, in a billion years, thought he could fall in love so fast and deeply with someone, but Louis seemed to have too, and it felt magical, as if they had just discovered a whole new world where they were the only living beings and their love was the fuel that kept it alive. A world that only existed whenever they were together.

"I.. I don't know what to say." Harry sobs onto his own hand. He felt like he would never stop crying that day, only this time it was of pure, extreme joy.

Louis wipes his streaming tears away with his thumb as the other hand carefully fixes a few loose strands of hair behind his ear.

"You don't have to say anything, Harry. You're the one I've been looking for my whole life."

Song: Bite - Troye Sivan

Looking down, Harry avoids his touch and tries to run away from all the effect Louis had on him, but his lips still form a smile. Louis had the power to just blow him away like a simple leaf in the middle of a storm. It was ridiculous. He didn't even shed a single tear while watching The Notebook. Not the first, not the hundredth time. But Louis was... Louis.

"Please, just... stop." He begs and he doesn't even recognize his own voice anymore. It was embarrassingly high-pitched and forlorn.

"Why?" Louis asks, inducing his chin back up.

"If you keep telling me things like that I won't be able to stop crying. Do you like seeing me cry?"

"No." Louis doesn't think twice before answering. "But it's how I feel. And I've never been good with my words."

"Well I think you're pretty fucking good."

Suddenly, Harry realizes what he just said, but it was too late to take it back. He gazes at Louis in fright, every expression or thought immediately stopping in their tracks like a speeding car running into a red light. Swearing was a red light for Louis.

"I'll let that one slip, don't worry." Louis shakes his head in disapproval, yet he doesn't discard the amused expression playing on his face. "But just because I can't stand the idea of spanking you while you have tears all over your face."

"Thank you." Harry mutters, considering how it must feel to be spanked after such emotionally exhausting conversation. Then, out of the blue, something occurs to him. "I think we should talk about said contract."

"Oh, I was hoping you'd bring that up today."

Of course you were...

"Let's take a seat?"

With everything that happened, Harry couldn't help wondering if their appointment shouldn't be coming to an end rather than just beginning.

"Do you have it with you?" He asks as he follows Louis to his desk.

"No, it's still kept in a safe box at my place."

A safe box, uh? Must be top secret.

Louis beckons for him to sit down in the chair across his before he does. Ever so polite. Harry tries to rest comfortably against the plush chair, but his excitement and curiosity always had the best of him.

"What is it for?" He finds himself thinking aloud.

"I can only tell you if you agree to come over and discuss it with me."

Come over? To his house?

Louis seems to notice his hesitation, so he proceeds:

"I promise you if you want you to leave at any time, Sam will be waiting outside to take you home. I don't want you to feel scared or obliged to sign anything. I just want you to take a thorough look at it and consider the possibility. It's up to negotiation."

That's a relief.

He pauses for a brief moment, laying his hands over the table while he analyses Harry's face.

"It's not a decision that will drastically change your life or how we act with each other every day. It's just... something that I love, and I hope you let me teach you to love it too."

Teach me? What? How can I learn to love something?

All the questions were starting to drive him insane. He had to know, whatever it was, or he knew he would count with a few sleepless nights.

"Okay." He tells him decidedly. After all, he knew Louis would never do anything that could hurt him.

Louis raises an eyebrow, maybe not expecting for him to agree so quick and determinedly. "Okay?"

"Yes. I will discuss that mysterious contract with you."

Louis smiles triumphantly, like his understanding made him the happiest man in that moment. And, although it seemed impossible, he was even more beautiful when he smiled, with the crinkles by the corner of his deep blue eyes, and the eventide shadowing his sharp features.

"Alright. Tonight?"

Tempting... But I think I've had enough Louis for today.

If he went to his house, he knew he wouldn't leave until the next day. And he had had enough adventure already.

Song: Is There Somewhere - Halsey

"I can't. I told you, I have to be home for dinner." He reminds him with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

"I'm pretty sure you can make something up. Maybe the old 'I slept at a friend's house'...? No one has to know."

He sounded like he had been in this situation before, but Harry decides not to create a storm out a possible misinterpretation.

"I'm sorry, Louis. I can't keep lying to my mum all the time. Plus, I have school tomorrow and I just can't do that today."

Running a hand through his now-messy hair, Louis leans forward in his chair, sitting at the very edge.

"You're right. Shit. Sorry for being such a manipulator. I didn't mean to force you to do anything." He says, cursing himself for trying to persuade and corrupt him like that.

"It's okay, Lou." Harry assures him without even realizing what he had just called him.

But Louis did.

"Maybe I can bring the contract to our next appointment. Is that okay with you? We don't have to do that in my house if you don't want."

"No." He shakes his head in a rush. "I mean, whatever you prefer. I wouldn't mind going to your house, but we can do that here as well. Either way is fine by me. But isn't our next appointment the last?"

Louis frowns over the fond grin on his mouth.

"Why do you say that?" He asks, worried with how Harry seemed sad about the idea of ending their sessions.

"My mom told me she came to see you. Did you invite her?"

"Yes." He confesses, carelessly leaning back against his leather chair. "I needed to talk to her. Your mom is lovely, by the way."

This time is Harry who moves his body forward to face him.

"She also told me that you'll have my diagnostic before this month is over, which clearly means we won't see each other any more."

Louis curves his top lip in blatant confusion.

"Harry, do you really think I'd just send you away with prescription pills and not even tell you? And even if that was the case, I'd make sure we'd see each other just as often."

"Well, but wouldn't you be busy with work and all your patients?"

Louis' eyes squint instinctively.

"Your being jealous, and I don't like that one bit. I have never put you behind my job. On the contrary, I've reschedule many appointments just to see you. So you have no foundation to feel that way."

Louis was right. He was being jealous, again.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just..." His voice falls an octave, regretting thinking what he was about to say. "... thought you were gonna leave me."

"Harry, are you crazy? I've just told you that I'm profoundly, infatuatedly in love with you and that I want to spend the rest of my life beside you, and you think I'm going to dump you all of a sudden?"

The outrageous look on Louis' face made him feel like shit. He had finally found a man who loved him like crazy and he just had to blow it up.

"I'm sorry..."

"Stop, Harry!" Louis stands up from his chair with a jolt. "Stop being so insecure! What else do I have to do to make you believe me?"

He doesn't even have time to put the breaks on his eyes, as tears were already - and yet again - silently running down his face. My head is gonna be exploding tomorrow.

"N-nothing. I'm sorry." His voice breaks and he's left sobbing against his own hand. He felt absolutely ridiculous, and all he wanted was to dig a whole in the floor and bury himself inside it. I'm so stupid...

"Fuck."

Louis runs to him and holds him close, just as tight as before. But this time he doesn't let go so soon.

"I'm yours, all yours. And nobody else's. Understand?" Louis mutters against his ear, hand gently brushing his back in circular motions.

Louis made him feel so safe, as safe as he felt in his own house, with his manly wooden smell and strong arms tightly wrapped around him in a warm embrace.

"Yes." Harry squeaks, holding onto the collar of his blazer. "I'm sorry for being like this. It's stronger than me."

"I understand. But you're gonna have to work on that. And that's how the contract will help you - to trust me."

I trust you. I'm just... stupid. He says to himself.

Louis holds his face between his hands and tries to cheer him up with one of his soft smiles. The ones Harry could rip off his own skin for.

"Okay?" Louis takes a silver handkerchief from the inside pocket of his blazer and hands it to him. "Now, wipe all those tears away because it's getting unbearable to see you like this."

And Harry does, thinking there was no way Louis wasn't the one for him.

"I want to ask you to bring me your medical and HIV tests for our next appointment." He says after Harry hands him the humid handkerchief. "I did something really stupid, and I should've asked you about it before we'd done anything to begin with."

Harry sniffs, not expecting their conversation to take that turn.

"I'm negative, if that's what you're wondering. I'd never do anything without letting you know beforehand if I wasn't."

He can see the heavy weight on his shoulders dissapearing with his words. And. yes, Louis was right for worrying about it, but he was also the one to incentivate such things to happen.

"All the guys I was with were a risk, I know. But it's in the past. I don't need that anymore... 'Cause I have you."

Pulling him by the waist, Louis kisses his rosy lips like time stood still, despite the cars never stop moving up and down the busy streets in the background, and that's the only thing he needs.

Saturday he decides to visit Victoria's park only with Jane- his 'partner in crime', as he called her.

Jane was his secondhand Canon Rebel camera, his most precious (and expensive) belonging to date. He bought her with his five-year savings of birthday and Christmas presents he demanded to get in form of money instead from his family and a part-time job at the local bakery.

His parents didn't understand his sudden fascination with photography, nor why he couldn't let go of it for a minute, but when he showed them the shots he took when they went to Portugal for the holidays, they never complained about him having his camera attached to him 24/7 ever again.

As he searches for the perfect place to start capturing the beauty of, he passes by the Children's Play Area, which was filled with kids of a big range of ages playing around the trees, on the sand boxes, slides, swings, tree houses, castles and other variety of adventures of the enormous playground. And they were genuinely happy, just by simply running around and playing with other kids.

Harry had a faint memory of how it felt when he was their age, but it was a distant memory, so distant it was almost as if it never existed. He missed being a child. As well as regretted believing his sister wasn't serious when she told him he would miss being one when he was younger and all he wanted was to grow up and be an adult. But, since he couldn't go back in time, the only thing close to that feeling was to have a baby.

He loved kids and kids seemed to love him too, so the math would equal to him being a great father. Therefore, there was no problem after all, right? Wrong. He happened not to be physically attracted to a woman to have a baby of his own and, undoubtedly, madly in love with Louis. So his only option would be to adopt, though he knew that wasn't an easy process, particularly for gay couples. But, in the end, he wasn't even sure Louis would want kids any time in the future, let alone start thinking about adoption this soon. It was too soon to have paternal instincts. So he walks away, heading south and leaving his thoughts there to be stepped over and blown by the wind.

He finds himself drawn to the West Boating Lake this time. Given that he stupidly didn't remember to bring his bike to travel around the park easier and go much further without running out of breath, he sits down on one of the brown benches with blue arms overlooking the calm water with a few boats sailing in the distance near the fountains.

Laying his backpack beside him, he snoops for his pack of mint gum and sticks one in his mouth while he allows the state of complete serenity to break inside his skin. He always felt very at ease in that place with the faint noise of people and the gentle breeze that shook the branches of the tall, voluminous trees around him. And that was all it took to bring up his most philosophical thoughts to the surface like the swans on the lake.

He enjoyed thinking about life and his purpose on such small, overpopulated planet. Although he felt like he was the only one, he liked to believe he wasn't the only to dwell on such endless, behavior-changing subject.

Whatever was his greater mission, he was sure it was to find Louis. Everything, from the moment he burst into his life, started feeling right again, as if God was telling him "this is the man you're destined to spend your life with, so go for it". And he didn't use to be one to believe in fate or miracles, but maybe it was because it had never happened to him.

A flock of swallows flies leisurely over the lake and Harry rushes to turn his camera on and capture the elementary beauty of animal life.

One of his biggest wishes in life was to be able to fly ever so freely like a bird. That was the super power he'd choose to have if he could have one and the one he told every time he was asked - which didn't happen often. But time-traveling was a close second.

To his luck, he manages to take a few shots standing up and one crouching down as they roam over the greenish waters.

"Right time, right place." A husky voice says from behind him.

"Excuse me?" He asks as he quickly stands up and turns around, but the girl was already beside him.

He finds her incredibly pretty at the first glance, and his opinion doesn't change when he studies her angelic face.

Song: Colors - Halsey

Her long, dark chocolate hair fell down her shoulders in big cascading waves, framing her oval-shaped face. Yet, her eyelined eyes under the thick brows are what drawns him the most. They were a rare light mixture of crystal green and nile blue, which brought an exotic feeling to her.

Somehow, she reminded him of Louis, only her skin was of a fairy tone.

"You're very lucky. I don't usually see swallows flying around here so early on Spring." She says, watching the black sprinkles of birds fly away.

"Really? Do you come here often?"

She dives her hands inside the pockets of her light skinny jeans.

"All the time. There's something about this place and its fresh air that helps me concentrate and gather my thoughts properly."

Harry felt the exact same way, but he doesn't tell her, just confines to nod his head understandingly.

"Oh, where are my manners?" She giggles, showing off her fang-like canine teeth. "I'm Lauren."

"Harry." He tells, smiling back at her. She seemed like a nice, easy-going girl and he had a feeling they would become good friends.
"I know." She shrugs and sits down on the shore.

Harry instantly frowns, wondering how she knew who he was.

"I've seen you around school."

Oh.

Not wanting to be impolite, he sits down next to her.

"You're in Rosedale too?" He sounded more surprised than he intended to.

The wind blows her hair back and she immediately runs to fix her fringe to one side of her face. And he mirrors her, because his was getting so big it easily covered his eyes with just the slightest blow of air. He really had to visit his trusty hairdresser.

"Yup." She smiles from under her folded arm, and it ends up shading her eyes, making them pop out even more. In that moment, he came into conclusion that they were in fact green.

"That's awesome. You on year 13 as well?"

"Indeed." She nods, turning her head to contemplate the lake. "And soon enough we're off to uni."

"Yeah." Harry can't hold a dreamy sigh in when he remembers that in just two months he'd have the exams that would condition his academic future. But he didn't want to start freaking out nor allow it to cause him a painful anxiety so early on. Everything would work out like planned.

Out of the blue, he has Lauren's curious gaze on him again.

"So you want to pursue arts, or is it just an hobby?"

"I do. It's actually a passion of mine." His eyes drop to Jane, who was carefully lying on his lap. "I've just... always knew that's what I wanted to do when I graduated."

"That's nice. I'm sure you're very talented, or you wouldn't have such a terrific camera."

"You have a point there." He laughs, though he had purchased it before he found out that he was, as a matter of fact, good for a beginner.

"So you just came here to photograph?"

Deep down, he knew he was there for another reason, despite it being the smaller part, and it was to think about Louis and their relationship. He wasn't sure if things weren't moving too fast and he would end up hurting himself twice as bad than if he took things slow.

He recalled Gemma saying how, if the person is meant to be, they'll be okay with just holding hands for a week and build it up as the days go by. And maybe she was right, because her relationships were always very solid and serious. But there was this unfightable thirst to have more and more of Louis every time they were together. It felt like it wouldn't stop until he had all of him. He was just frightened that, when and if he did, the thirst would die alongside his love.

"To be honest, yes."

"Alright. Then that's what you should be doing." Unexpectedly, Lauren gets up on her feet and beckons to him. "C'mon."

Harry stares at her in pure confusion, but she starts walking away.

"What? Where are you going?" He yells, watching her become smaller and smaller as she headed somewhere he didn't know. Thus, he opts by chasing after her to see where she was going. As he gains speed and gets closer, he finds her climbing on top of a cobalt blue bicycle that was resting against a tree.

"Hurry! This ride doesn't wait for anyone."

Laughing through his nose, Harry climbs behind her and wraps his arms around her waist for stability.

"Do you have your camera ready?" She asks, starting to move the pedals.

"Why?"

"You're gonna want to capture this magnificent route to the other side of the park."





Chapter Text

 

 

Friday he finishes school earlier. Mr. Harding had suddenly caught a really bad cold and couldn't give his class the last period of the day. Harry wasn't as happy as he'd be if he thought it was legit but, in all honesty, he couldn't help wondering if it was because Eric didn't want or couldn't see him so soon after he ended whatever they had. But, on the other hand, he had never taken a single day off work, so maybe he was indeed sick and Harry was just acting like he mattered more to him than he actually did.

Louis had texted him in the morning asking if they could take deal with the contract in his office early in the afternoon, not forgetting to end his message with an 'I love you.'

Only after all those days Harry came to realize he never said 'I love you' back. It was like a shock of regret and anxiety contusing his entire body, making him want to text him an 'I love you too' immediately. But through message it didn't have the same impact, specially if Louis noticed it too and decided not to bring it up because he thought Harry didn't love him back. Yet he did, so damn much he had that worry consuming him the entire day.

He obviously agreed to meet him in a heartbeat. That way he'd be able to apologize in person and make up to him for his stupid act. Or lack of.

 

To: Louis

5 P.M is okay with you?

3:47 P.M

 

As soon as his teacher turns around, he sneaks a glance at his phone that vibrated in his hand with a new message.

 

From: Louis

I t's perfect. I'll be waiting for you.

P.S: Are you skipping classes today? If you are thinking about it, don't. I can come pick you up when you've complied with your schedule.

3:50 P.M

 

Only him to think of the fact that I might have classes at that time...

 

To: Louis

Don't worry about it, I won't be missing classes. Mr. Harding is sick, so I won't have the last period.

P.S: I'm a an exemplary student if you didn't know.

3:53 P.M

 

From the corner of his eye, he could feel Liam snooping at his phone, trying to read his message.

"I thought Biopsychology was interesting enough for you." He says, hastily blocking his phone and glaring at him.

He was expecting a reason for that, since they've never invaded each other's privacy like that before. But then Harry didn't have a single secret he kept from him; now he did, although that wasn't ideal for any of them.

Liam, as clever as always, gets straight to the point.

"You've been acting very weird lately. Always on your phone, never going out with me or the guys..." Liam whispers, although they were sat at the end of the classroom and there was too much noise for them to be heard anyway. "It seems like you're hiding something from me."

"Here we go again..." Harry turns his face away, pretending he was paying attention to his teacher again.

He wanted to let him know about Louis and him. He really did. But he had promised Louis he wouldn't tell anyone and, unfortunately, the walls seemed to ears everywhere he went. Plus, the future of their relationship was still uncertain. Yes, Louis might've made him the biggest love declaration ever but, in spite of it, every morning Harry woke up afraid it was all just a dream and Louis would've never existed in the real word.

If he told that to anyone they'd think it was ridiculous, absurd, a complete nonsense. But how could he know Louis wasn't a vision he created in his mind to make his life more interesting and all the moments they had were just made up by his impaired brain? Yet even if it was, he would never dare to destroy the thin, wavering line between reality and fantasy he was poising over because of him.

"Tell me I don't have reasons to be suspicious."

Harry knew Liam wouldn't stop until he had the answer he seeked, and his persuasion was likely his most annoying trait.

"You do." He admits, praying deep inside that his interrogatory would stop right there.

But it doesn't.

"Then just tell me. Why are you acting so different?"

Taking a deep, uptight breath, he let's the words of truth roll out of his mouth.

"I'm seeing someone."

"What?" Liam's eyes bulge out so wide it seems like they'd jump out of their sockets any time.

"I'm seeing someone. But it's a secret, so I'd be glad if you could keep it that way."

Liam processes his words in silence, looking from his teacher to him. Harry could tell he was discussing something to himself, perhaps trying to guess who he was dating. But he knew that wasn't an hard guess, and Liam, being the smart pupil with a granted scholarship he was, would figure it out in a heartbeat. He knew it.

"Sure." Liam nods, his tongue peeking out of his mouth from his much concentration. "Is it your sexologist?"

Oh for God's sake...

Harry has to fix a distant point in the classroom and grasp onto it as hard as he can not to roll his eyes under his friend's steady gaze. How could he be so dumb to think that maybe, just maybe, Liam wouldn't guess the right answer at first?

I can't tell him. He can't know. No one can, not even my best friend.

"Uh.. no!" He fakes repugnance with a noisy exhalation and displayed front teeth. But it comes out unmeasured to a point he wonders if even he would believe it if he was in Liam's place. Getting hold of himself and his hardly-controllable face expressions, he shakes his head at last. "It's somebody else."

"Can I at least know his name?"

"You can actually shut the front door because you've had your answer already." He says, using his sassiness as a shelter to his lie. He knew it wasn't the best - it was made of slim tree branches, easily blown away by the wind or set on fire by a thunder -, but it was the first thing he found in that survival situation.

"Jeez. That "somebody else" is seriously making you sharp-tongued." And their conversation ends there.

Harry stares at nothing for a few more minutes, waiting for Liam to be caught and distracted by Mr. Harvey's explanations to take his phone from between his legs and see what Louis had sent him.

 

From: Louis

Glad to hear that.

Laters, Sweetcheeks. Xx

3:54 P.M

 

He can't help but smile with his chest weighing up and down as he breathes, feeling his heart beat a tempo faster just from the sweet way he ended his message.

 

To: Louis
See you later, Mr. Tomlinson ;)

3:56 P.M

 

 

 

At 5 P.M. sharp he's entering the grey-tiled building with his satchel on his left shoulder and a positive mind-set that kept telling him he would be strong enough to face whatever he was about to face.

When he arrives at the ninth floor, Louis' secretary stops him before he can fly in autopilot to his office and his face nearly turns crimson as he realizes he had to ask her for permission before he could walk in like that. Not that Louis wouldn't give him, but, for everyone else, he was just a mere patient of his.

"Mr. Styles?" She calls out.

Harry turns around as he fights the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't want to feel annoyed by her stolid, sweet tone of voice, or the fact that she barely even blinked before she was stopping him from getting inside his boyfriend's office.

But he did.

"Yes?" He asks, walking a few steps away from the door.

"You don't have an appointment today." She says from behind her computer.

"Mr. Tomlinson must have forgotten to warn you, then. He called me today because one of his patients couldn't make it, so..."

Her eyes become gradually smaller as she tastes his lie and gets up from his chair to be at the same level as his. But, although he might be seeing things differently than what they really were, she was adopting a defiant position, like a middle-age warrior ready to duel against his rival for the property he owned.

"Well, Mr. Tomlinson doesn't like last minute appointments. He prefers to go take that time for himself. I'm sure he's about to head home." She says like she knew all about his private life, glancing to his office once and again.

Bitch.

                                                                                                       Bitch

"I-"

"He's a very busy man. But you can call here Monday and we'll see when Mr. Tomlinson can see you."

As if by magic, he hears Louis right behind him and his heart jumps through his navy blue oxford shirt.

                                                                                                        As if by magic, he hears Louis right behind him and his heart jumps through his navy blue oxford shirt

"No need to." He says, his voice strangely lower than he used to know. "Mr. Styles and I actually do have an appointment." He walks another silent step forward, and now he was standing beside Harry with his hands buried in his suit pants' pockets and his serious face on. "It's not correct to call my patients liars, Amelia."

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Tomlinson." She fixes her long hair behind her ear, her eyes wide in guilt. "But you didn't tell me you'd have another patient for today."

Her embarrassment was so much she couldn't barely avoid stuttering.

"Well, next time that happens use your legs or the telephone." He says, purposefuly staring at her flustered face with annoyance pouring out of his pores.

Although Harry felt bad for her deep down, he had to bite the inside of his cheeks not to laugh at her face. She was just doing her job after all. Yet he had a feeling she was somehow starting to nuture some sort of jealousy of him. And the fact that she seemed to be thinking Louis was choosing his side over hers wasn't going to help.

"Sure." She swallows loudly. "I'm sorry again."

Louis simply nods and turns his head to face him. And his expression softens almost instantly.

"You ready, Mr. Styles?"

He felt her eyes burning a whole through his skin and he just couldn't stop looking back at her, because something clearly wasn't right. But he decides not to let her affect him.

"Yes." He nods, taking a moment for him to contemplate Louis' appearence.

His beard was bigger than he remembered over his mouth and chin, starting to create the effect of an untrimmed bush, with shades of red by the soft, warm lighting of the hall. And his small, turquoise eyes lustered even brighter amid all the brown.

That day his working garment consisted on a fitted dark grey suit that almost turned black over a plain white button-up shirt. His hair was different as well, styled in temperate, untidy thick waves thrown aside at the front in his usual fringe. But in the back it was its naturally straight, jagged self.

Harry immediately fell in love with that hairstyle.

"I'm afraid I won't need you for the next hour, Amelia. Go home earlier, have some rest." Louis tells the visibly stressed women and her face sags in shock.

Harry wasn't sure if that was the best approach not to drawn suspicious at them, but he opted to believe Louis knew what he was doing.

"Let's go then?"

Louis lets one hand slide to Harry's waist where her eye range didn't allow her to see and guides him, taking it out a few seconds later. It was so brief and subtle, yet Harry felt safe again. Safe in a way only Louis could provide him.

And then there's the famous butterflies tickling his stomach.

 

Once he's inside the locked fortress that was Louis' office, he notices a big change in the atmosphere.

It was quiet like a tomb, the outside world incapable of piercing through those walls. The lighting of the room weren't the incandescent cool white lamps of the ceiling, but a line of warm LED white lamps on the three main walls. And there was also a different smell in the air from the candle burning on the black-painted wood shelf unit beside the door, of a delicate, shrubby mixture.

He recognized the notes of lavender flying around like summer butterflies in a green grass field, because his mother used to wash the floor of the house with a lavender scented-detergent when Spring arrived. And it was his favorite smell to walk around the house with, and maybe that's why she used it so often.

"Smells good in here." Harry says, squinting his eyes to try and read the label surrounding the simple, expensive-looking white candle. He read the large golden word at the centre of the label, 'Neom', before Louis spoke up.

"It's an organic brand." He shifts closer. "English Lavender, Sweet Basil and Jasmine."

Harry limits his reply to a quiet nod, standing in front of the lingering flame.

"We should've gone to your house instead."

He feels Louis' hand on his back, caressing its way to his right side.

"We can still go, if you want."

His head turns almost automatically so that he could look at him. But then the urge to kiss him came in the path of his logic just to mess his head even more, and he had to take a deep breath to collect himself. It wasn't time to falter.

It was time to deal with a very serious contract - by the looks of it - and have a fresh mind to be able to deal with it accordingly.

"Now that we've made your secretary suspect us?" He pushes his hand off his stern body and Louis' face shrivels like a wilted flower.

"She didn't suspect anything. She just needed me to put her in her place." Louis tells him, but it was hard for Harry to believe that.

Louis didn't see the way she stared at him like he was a big problem in her life when they've only seen each other a few times. And he had always been good at telling if someone liked him or not. And she did not. For no apparent reason.

"Amelia's been acting rudely towards my patients for a couple of days, and I wasn't having it any longer. Specially not with you."

Oh. Maybe I'm not the problem after all...

"Thank you." He mutters, silently regretting having pushed Louis away.

"Does that make you more relieved?"

Louis takes hold of his body, pulling him in for a brief kiss, and this time Harry doesn't object.

"Yes." He whispers, trying to calm himself down and not have an anxiety attack right then and there. He didn't want Louis to see him like that ever. "I didn't want to be this nervous mess, but I can't help stressing out about it."

Louis finds his lips yet again, kissing them softly as the fondle of a feather.

"I know." Louis snakes his arms around his neck and, in that moment, Harry realizes he was getting taller than him. But he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Deep down, he knew he liked feeling small and being manhandled by such overpowering man. Yet there was also a part of him that was begging to become taller than all the guys who made fun of him, for he was always one of the shortest of the class.

"As much as I try to hide it, I'm constantly worried about it. But we chose this, right? We were aware of the consequences."

"Yes." Harry tells him with confidence, although everything happened so fast he didn't actually think about all the things that would follow after he accepted to be in a relationship with him. But he shakes his head because, as long as he'd have Louis beside him, he would be completed for the time that it lasted. And life, always as unpredictable, would follow its natural course and there was nothing he could do to stop it but be happy while he could. "And you're worth all of it."

"You are too." Louis whisper as he leans forward to attach their lips together, his thumb dancing close to Harry's mouth until their tongues find each other in a desperate act.

Harry hooks his hand in his neck, lean fingers playing with the short strands of hair at his nape while his body gives in in Louis' hands for a moment.

He didn't know what happened to him all of a sudden. Just one touch of Louis and his self-control was far gone.

He felt weak every time he was near him, regardless of how sassy and determined he acted. Maybe it's the effect love has on people; it makes you bend and become vulnerable for the person you love, like you're saying "Here's all of me. Take it and break it if you wish, for all that I know is that, right now, I'm nothing and you're everything."

Louis is the first to end the kiss, noticing how Harry had his eyes closed and, by the look on his face, could stay like that all day.

"I think we better get started." He says, pulling his lip down with the tip of his thumb as Harry met his eager eyes. "Don't you agree?"

Harry bites his own lip, dragging the taste of Louis to his tongue.

"I..."

... Love you.

"Yes." He coughs, not yet feeling like that was the perfect time to say those words. But he ends up making a mental promise to say it the moment they part ways. If he wasn't terrified and screaming on his way out. No. Nothing Louis had in store could scare him to a point he'd leave him.

Louis walks to his desk and, as Harry follows him, he notices his usual stack of papers had been replaced by a single black file folder that was laying on top of it alone.

"This is the contract." Louis holds the folder between his hands, eyeing him with caution.

Harry was standing by his desk, hands fidgeting and his heart racing. All the waiting was killing him. He knew it probably wouldn't be worth the worry, but all the mystery around it was enough to make him anxious, like a simple piece of paper could end their relationship.

"Please sit down." Louis instructs and sinks on his chair right after Harry does. "I don't want you so nervous. Am I scaring you?"

Why would he think it's him?

"No." His answer is clear as fresh spring water, despite the grey fog revolving around him.

"Do you trust me?"

"I do."

Harry glances the folder still safely held by Louis before meeting his attentive eyes.

"So try to relax, okay?" He asks, starting to pull the papers out.

There wasn't just one sheet inside, but a joint of approximately sixty papers pinned together.

Whoa. That's the whole thing?

"This contract is very detailed and..." Louis pauses, searching for the word, and sees how Harry had his lips parted in a mix of surprise, shock and wonder. "... Long. So we might not have time to go over every single thing."

Realizing his mouth was hanging open, Harry quickly closes it.

"But i'd suggest you keep a copy and go over it at your own pace. You know if you have any questions - anything - just ask me whenever and I'll make sure to clear everything up for you. Just... say you will."

Seeing Louis like that, all professional and committed to something, made him think the subject of that contract was something he was truly passioned about and wanted to become real.

"Okay." He nods his head, forming a polite smile on his mouth.

Louis smiles back at him, one of those smiles that not only reached his ears but his eyes too.

"Great. Now I think I better get us a glass of water before we begin. Wait for me in the lounge chairs."

Five seconds later, Louis is out of the door and he's left all alone with his thoughts and a still-enigmatic contract.

Secretly, he wanted to peek at the pages to finally unravel the mystery and take that opportunity to run away if it was something he could never do. But, at the same time, he knew Louis trusted him too, and probably if he was caught touching his things and sneaking glances at the papers, it'd break his trust on him.

But probably wasn't a yes.

As he reaches his hand out to grab the folder, he hears a noise coming from outside the door and immediately pulls away.

Shit. Why do I have to be so curious and impatient?

With his heart beating at a hectic speed, he grabs his satchel and flies to the other side of the room, landing on the velvet chair turned to the window wall.

Louis walks in with two whiskey glasses on his hands, one half-full and another filled all the way up.

"I wasn't sure if you're a drinker, so I filled your glass just in case you might get thirsty."

Why the hell does he have whiskey glasses in his office?

Harry stares at his own lap as he smiles, attempting to hide the fact that he was flustered from the sudden rush of adrenaline he felt when he was almost caught.

"Thank you. I usually do."

He sees Louis smile back at him as he walks by and he's sure he saw the red all over his cheeks, but, if he was any lucky, he would assume it's from what he'd said and not because he had done something wrong.

"Did you bring the exams that I asked you?" Louis asks, looking up at him while he places the glasses on the opposite corners of the table. His eyes were a starry night sky, just like the one that was about to come up outside, with excitement pouring out with every blink.

"Uh, yes. I have my HIV results with me." He opens his satchel and digs his hand in, taking out the slightly crumpled papers that he places on the wooden coffee table between them. "But, regarding my exams, I wasn't very sure what you wanted so I brought you my blood tests from last month. I hope it's enough."

To his surprise, Louis doesn't lay a hand on his medical exams.

"It's more than enough. Thank you." He says, his legs casually crossing in a broken square and his eyes growing big like an owl's. "You know, I just asked you for them for your own safety and nothing else. If you agree to do this, I won't want to end up hurting you from lack of information. But I'm only going to see them if you sign the contract, I promise you."

Hurting me? What could possibly hurt me about a contract?

"Thank you." He mutters, his fingers tangling over his thighs.

"Are you ready to begin?" 

He doesn't hesitate a second.

"Yes."

Louis stands up one last time to get the contract that he'd left on his desk and Harry takes the time to reposition himself on the mellow chair, sitting up straighter.

Song: Halsey - Control (Instrumental)

"First of all, I would like you to sign a NDA." Louis says, sitting down, and then takes the papers out of his folder, setting them in the middle of the table.  "It means you can't disclose anything on the contract with anyone and you're willing to maintain the secrecy of our relationship."

"A Non-Disclosure Agreement?"

Louis eyebrows arch higher than usual, like he was surprised that he knew what it was.

"My mum's a lawyer." He apprises.

What a great time to mention your mother. Seriously.

"Oh."

That sounded like something that would come out of his mouth, not Louis'.

"I would always keep my word, regardless." He adds.

"I'm pleased to hear that."

Louis hands him the paper along with a pen and he fills out every empty space meant for the 'Receiving Party', taking the time to read the provisions before signing. Louis had already signed his part.

His full name is Louis William Tomlinson? He could've been a King with that name if we were in the fifteenth century.

He gives it back to Louis after writing the date and Louis nods his head in acknowledgment.

"Will you tell me what the contract's about now?"

There had been a lump in his throat for a while, but he only notices it when Louis saves the NDA in the folder and the actual contract takes its previous spot on the table. He should've gotten himself a sip from his glass of water, but he knew it wouldn't be able to push it away.

"Have you heard about BDSM?"

Holy. Fuck.

His steady heartbeat hastens downhill like the fall on a rollercoaster, getting out of control. But, to his surprise, it wasn't as scary as he assumed that ride to be. He had become so aware of his body all of a sudden, and how it heated up with exhilarating adrenaline as Louis gazed at him cautiously that he grew curious of how even more alive he could feel if he didn't get out.

"I have." He confesses, cold sweat spilling out to cool his body down.

He had never thought Louis would be into that, although the signs were all there. He was manly, possessive, controlling, protective and... dominant.

"So you know what a BDSM relationship consists of?"

"Yes." Harry captures his lower lips for a second. "Well, kind of. But I've never been in one."

He can see a shadow of a smug smile over Louis' mouth and then his face turns into the epitome of cryptic. 

"It's more complex than you'd think." He lays his hands on the table, using them to accompany his speech. "There are two core principles to the BDSM lifestyle: "Safe, Sane, Consensual" and "Risk Aware Consensual Kink.". The first one means that you take precautions to prevent accidents, you don't do anything that is obviously dangerous, and you know your partner and negotiate which activities you are willing to engage in in advance. The latter is geared more towards the sorts of fetishes/kinks that are not classed as "sane" - activities where there's risk of physical, mental, and emotional injury -, like flogging, caning and other types of punishments. And that's why it's very important to define and use safe-words."

Louis takes a pause to study Harry's face and try to find out how he was reacting to all of it.

Harry had never seen someone talking about something with so much knowledge and passion. He couldn't say he wasn't worried with the activities Louis might want him to engage in, but he wanted to know which ones gave him the most pleasure, and all his kinks and fetishes. He already knew Louis liked to spank, so maybe, if they weren't more inclined to the "unsafe" side and he was indeed up to negotiation, he would be willing to try it.

"But I'll explain anything you don't know as we go. Just ask me, yeah?"

"Yes." Harry agrees, his voice coming out low.

Louis wets his lips as he splits the sixty-something papers and offers half of it for Harry to take along with a simple envelope that he assumed it was where it previously were.

"This is your copy of the contract. Please follow me."

Song: Halsey - Castle (Instrumental)

The papers were of a old yellow tone and thicker-than-standard. At the very top of the first page there was the word "Contract" written in bold, capital letters.

Okay. Here we go.

Louis raises his voice and starts reading:

 

CONTRACT

1. The following contract was meticulously elaborated to present the terms between the Dominant and the Submissive.

Agreement made on __April 21st___ of 2017 (The Commencement Date) between:

 

(The Dominant)                                                                                                                                                                                                       (The Submissive)

Mr. Louis Tomlinson                                                                                                                                                                                                 Mr. Harry Styles

17, Beauchamp Place                                                                                                                                                                                        32, Waddington Road

 Knightsbridge,  SW1 1KA                                                                                                                                                                                     Stratford, E15 1QW

    London, U.K                                                                                                                                                                                                                   London, U.K

 

Commencement and Term             

2. The Dominant and the Submissive enter into this contract on the Commencement Date written above fully aware of its nature and undertake to abide by its conditions.

3. This contract will be effective for the period of two months, counting from the Commencement Date. When its expiration comes, the Dominant and the Submissive shall discuss whether this contract and the arrangements made are satisfactory and if the needs of each party have been fulfilled. Both parties may propose the extension of this contract as well as the adjustments they see fit. In the absence of agreement to the extension by one or both parties, this contract will cease and both parties are free to resume their lives separately.

 

The contract is temporary? But without contract there's no Louis?

He chooses to keep reading and save question that for later if it was still necessary.

 

Fundamental Terms                   

4. The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the Submissive to explore his submission, sensuality and his limits safe and unashamedly.

5.The Dominant and the Submissive agree and acknowledge that all that occurs under the stated terms of this contract will be consensual, confidential and subject to the agreed limits and safety procedures set out.

6. The Dominant and the Submissive warrant that they don't suffer from any sexual, serious, infectious and/or life-threatening illness. If during the term of this contract either party is diagnosed to becomes aware of such illness, he undertakes to inform the other immediately and before any form of physical contact between the parties.

7. If the Dominant fails to keep to the agreed terms, limitations and safety procedures, the Submissive is entitled to terminate this contract forthwith and without notice.

8. Adherence to the above warranties, agreements and undertaking, as well as any limits, safety procedures agreed, are essential to this contract. Any breach will immediately render it void and each party will be responsible to the other for its consequence.

Rules

Obedience/Submission:

9. The Submissive isn't allowed to refer to the Dominant as anything but Master, Sir or Mr. Tomlinson during scene. The Submissive may chose which one(s) he likes the best. Exceptionally, and with his consent, the Submissive may call the Dominant by his name.

 

"What's a 'scene'?"

"It's the BDSM activity."

Oh.

"And where does it take place? In your bedroom?"

He just hoped it wouldn't be a basement or something like that. That would be awful.

"I have a special room - a Playspace - just for the scenes to take place. But, obviously, we can play outside it."

A Playspace...

"Do you have a lot of things in your Playspace?"

Louis runs his fingers over his stubble, caressing his cheek.

"I do, actually."

"Cool."

Harry can see a dirty thought cross his mind when he smirks out of the blue.

"I could show it to you one of these days if you want."

I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be just a tour.

"We'll see about that."

 

10. The Dominant claims and the Submissive will give his Dominant full ownership over his body during scene to do with as the he pleases.

11. The Submissive will obey and serve the Dominant to the best of his ability and devote himself entirely to the training, guidance and discipline given by the Dominant without query or hesitation.

12. The Submissive will answer any and all questions asked by the Dominant freely, promptly, and to the best of his knowledge. The Submissive further agrees to volunteer any information that the Dominant should know regarding his physical or emotional state. The Dominant agrees to never use this information to harm Submissive in any way.

13. The Submissive agrees to speak respectfully to the Dominant and be polite at all times, including the time not spent in a scene.

 

He feels his throat so dry he has to take a long sip from his water as he tries to process all the information he'd heard so far. Louis stops reading as he does.

I have to give him full ownership of my body? For him to do whatever? And answer all the questions he asks? What if it's none of his business? And be polite at all times? What if he's an asshole? Oh god...

Uncertainty starts building up at the end of his stomach. But the problem was that he was willing to ignore it completely, because he wanted Louis. He needed  him in his life.

"Are you okay?" Louis asks, his gaze darker.

"Yes. Please proceed."

 

Personal Safety:

14. The Submissive is prohibited from consuming any type of drugs and tobacco. Alcohol shall only be consumed in moderation and in the presence of the Dominant. The Dominant will never force any drugs or tobacco upon the Submissive and he should not dare ask for it.


For a moment, his mind drifts to the time he had champagne on the London Eye. He was still underage, so he shouldn't be allowed to drink at all. But he was almost turning eighteen, therefore he didn't understand why Louis prohibited him from drinking without his presence. 


15. The Submissive will not brawl or engage in unnecessary physical fights with other people. In case something of this nature happens, the Submissive assures of reporting it to the Dominant and he will take action accordingly.

16. The Submissive will not walk outside alone past 1 A.M unless it's an emergency or he has the consent of the Dominant.

Sleep:

17. The Submissive shall sleep a minimum of seven-eight hours sleep per night when he is not with the Dominant. After an intense scene, the Submissive shall and is allowed to sleep from nine to twelve hours, never exceeding the limit.

Food:

18. The Submissive will ensure he ingests a minimum of 1,5L of water a day paired with a healthy, balanced diet rich in fiber, healthy carbs and protein of his liking .

19. The Submissive should never eat heavy meals prior to a scene as it may be dangerous for his health. It's of the Submissive's obligation to eat until one hour before the start of a scene.

Exercise:

20.  The Submissive will work out at least three times a week for not less than one hour, using his free time and any place he wishes (eg.: school, home, outdoors, etc.).

 

I think I can do this.

 

Personal Hygiene:

21. The Submissive will always keep his body clean and shaved and/or waxed.

 

He lets out a quiet scoff. It was even funnier in Louis' earnest voice.

"I think this one might be hard for me." He jokes with a straight expression on his face.

"I can get you a shower and a great esthetician, don't worry."

He really liked that Louis could understand sarcasm and always decided to play along. Ricky wasn't like that; he always thought he was being serious and ended up getting mad.

God, why am I even thinking about that dickhead...

 

22. The Submissive will make sure he douches in advance to any scene.

Personal Qualities:

23. The Submissive will not engage in any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant.

24. The Submissive will not argue or complain with the Dominant in the presence of others.

 

Then again.

"We have to negotiate this."

Louis raises his eyes, and they were bluntly confused.

"Why?"

"Louis, seriously? I can't promise you that won't ever happen. I have the right to express myself, just like you do."

"Yes, but not in public."

"What's the matter?" He shrugs at Louis' unyielding position. "Not everything has to be one big, dark secret."

Louis clicks his pen, making the nib disappear.

"Because, as my Submissive, you reflect who I am. And that is not a polite thing to do. I'm a good Dominant, but you have to be a good Submissive too."

How can I reflect who he is if our relationship is a secret that no one can know about?

"Alright. I can try."

After all, the contract was only for two months. If anything didn't work out the way he wanted or there was something he wasn't truly capable of doing, he could ask Louis to re-negotiate it.

"Great." Louis smiles, and he's instantly content with his answer.


If the Submissive fails to comply with any of the rules, he will be punishment urgently in the way the Dominant finds appropriate.

How hard will those punishments be? I enjoyed being spanked before, so maybe that won't even be considered a punishment. Oh shit.

 

Service Provisions

25. The following service provisions have been discussed and agreed and will be adhered to by both parties during the Term.

Dominant:

25.1. The Dominant will make the Submissive's health, wellbeing and safety a priority at all times, and shall never request, allow or demand the Submissive to participate in any acts or activities that deemed to be unsafe.

25.2. The Dominant will never give the Submissive more than he can physically/emotionally handle and any action/activity will cease immediately when the Submissive uses his safe word/gesture.

25.3. The Dominant shall maintain a stable and safe environment in which the Submissive may perform her duties in service of the Dominant.

25.4.  The Dominant takes responsibility for the training, guidance and discipline of the Submissive, and shall decide their nature, time and place.

25.5. The Dominant owns the right to dismiss the Submissive from his service at any time and for any reason he sees fit.

25.6 The Dominant will discipline the Submissive as necessary to ensure the Submissive fully appreciates his role of submission and to discourage any unacceptable conduct. The Dominant may spank, flog, whip or corporally punish the Submissive in any other way he intends and desires.

25. 7. In training and administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that no permanent marks are made on the Submissive's body nor any injuries incurred that may require medical attention.

25.8 In training and administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that the instruments and equipment used for the purposes of discipline are safe and clean, and they will not be used in such a way as to cause serious harm and/or exceed the limits defined and detailed in this contract.

25.9. In case of illness or injury, the Dominant will care for the Submissive and bring him medical assistance if needed.

25.10. The Dominant shall maintain his own good health and seek medical attention when necessary in order to maintain a risk-free environment.

25.11. The Dominant will never loan his Submissive to another Dominant.

Harry can't help but glance at him. Something like that would never cross his mind, but apparently, that was a thing? He was glad Louis wouldn't do it, though. Because, if he did, Harry wouldn't think he would be able to sign the contract. He wasn't a sex object; not anymore.

Submissive:

25.12. The Submissive accepts the Dominant as his master, with the understanding that he is now the property of the Dominant, to be dealt with as the Dominant pleases during the Term and, specially, during scene.

25.13. The Submissive will obey the rules without questioning.

25.14. The Submissive shall submit to any sexual activity demanded by the Dominant.

25.15. The Submissive will not touch the Dominant without his permission during a scene.

25.16. The Submissive shall accept spankings, whippings, floggings, caning, or any other discipline the Dominant decides to administer without hesitation, enquiry or complaint.

25.17. The Submissive will treat his body with care and respect, ensuring no harm to it, so it is always available for the Dominant in its best conditions. It is not for the Submissive to physically punish his body, but exclusively to the Dominant.

25.18. The Submissive is free to pleasure himself, but he must inform the Dominant every time he does so and agrees to never do it more than once a day and/or to the point of exhaustion.

What the hell? But if he can't see it, he will never know.

25.19. The Submissive accepts the responsibility of using the establish safe-words accordingly.

Training

26. The Submissive will be given a weekly training scheduled for Friday night, and shall keep his Friday evenings free so as to have plenty of time for discipline training.

 

"What if I can't make it every Friday?"

"Then you must have a good reason." Louis says, uncrossing and spreading his legs wide." Think of it like a class. If you skip it, you'll be punished."

What if I run away? Jesus, Harry. Stop being so stupid. You love him. And he loves you - in some strange way -, but he does.

 

Safewords

27. The Dominant recognizes that he may make demands of the Submissive that cannot be met without incurring physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or other harm at the time the demands are made to the Submissive during scene. In such circumstances, the Submissive may make use of a safeword.

Two Safewords will be invoked depending on the severity of the demands:

27.1 "Yellow": Will be used to bring to the attention of the Dominant that the Submissive is close to his limit of endurance.

27.2. "Red": Will be used to bring to the attention of the Dominant that the Submissive cannot tolerate any further demands. When this word is said the Dominant's action will stop immediate and completely.

27. 3  If the Submissive happens to be unable to say his safeword during scene, he shall resort to a physical safeword. The easiest and most commonly used is stomping:

27.3.1. One stomp: Is somewhere between "Green" and "Yellow" (eg.: "Oh. That hurt, but I liked it.")

27.3.2. Two stomps: Is equivalent to the safeword "Yellow".

27.3.3 Three stomps: Is equivalent to the safeword "Red".

Punishment

28. Punishment will be given for the following offenses:

28.1. Cockiness or rudeness.

28.2. Disobeying the rules.

Mild Punishments include: slapping, spanking, light pinching, ball gags, cropping, biting, hair pulling, eye contact restriction and going to bed early.

Medium Punishments include: multiple slapping, genital pinching, intense bondage time, nipple clamps, paddling,  speech restriction, spreader bars and suspension.

Severe Punishments include: cock whipping, tickling, choking, spitting, caning, verbal humiliation, chastity cage, testicle cuffs, orgasm denial and sexual deprivation.

 

Holy fuck. Those sound painful. He wants to do all of these things to me?!

"Uh. What exactly is orgasm denial? Is it not letting me come?"

"Yes. It's pretty much self-explanatory. The Dominant stimulates the Submissive to the brink of orgasm and then abruptly stop all stimulation. This cycle may be repeated many times."

Sounds hot, although very tough.

"And what's the purpose of it?" He asks, joining his knees together. Secretly, he wanted Louis to try that on him.

"Orgasm denial can be used as a training tool for things like increasing tolerance for stimulation, learning how to control orgasms, learning how to orgasm on demand, and learning how to be a more eager-to-please Submissive." Louis explains, and Harry notices how his indigo blue eyes run from his lap, to his mouth and stop on his eyes. "Not to mention how good it feels in the end."

Harry could feel his skin burning before his gaze, but he couldn't let himself be distracted by his predator eyes. He was stronger than that.

Louis clears his throat before continuing:

 

The Dominant will never punish the Submissive when he doesn't deserve or in feelings of anger. He will always inform the Submissive that he's being punished when the punishment occurs as well as the reason(s), either before, during or following punishment.

Punishment must not incur permanent bodily harm or the following forms of abuse:

• Burning the body;

• Drastic loss of circulation;

• Internal bleeding;

• Loss of consciousness;

•  Withholding of any necessary materials (e.g.: food, water, sunlight) for extended periods of time;

• Blood may not be drawn at any time.

 

Thank God. At least he's not insane.

 

Permanent bodily harm shall be determined as:

•  Any damage that involves loss of mobility or function, including broken bones;

•  Any permanent marks on the skin (e.g.: scars, burns, tattoos, etc.), unless accepted by the slave;

•  Any piercing of the flesh which might leave a permanent hole;

•  Any loss of hair.

If the Submissive ever comes to permanent bodily harm during the course of punishment (or in any other activity performed during a BDSM scene), whether by intention or accident, it will be grounds for immediate termination of this contract.

Pre-Scene Negotiation Questionnaire

Since every scene includes a wide range or activities involving a negotiated transfer of power between consenting, caring parties, the Submissive should fill out this questionnaire to the best of his ability to help the Dominant carefully assess all fears and limits before planning a scene. The purpose of the following questionnaire is for a Safe, Sane and Consensual scene.

* Name(s) the Submissive would like to be called in the scene: ________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________

"Please write your answers down." Louis says, calm and distant. "Take your time."

 

Oh. I have to write them. Okay.

Conveniently, there was a pen in the table in front of him that he hadn't noticed before.

He tries to remember which names Louis had called him before that he'd enjoyed. Sweetcheeks, Baby, Darling, My Boy, Princess... All four of them always titillated him; made him feel some sort of way he'd never felt before. But there was one he wasn't sure if he would write down.

Princess... he ponders as he stares at the empty lines, trying to imagine if it'd have the same effect as the others had on him if he was tied up and getting spanked. But all Louis said in his head was "Baby", as his hands roamed around his body, and he whispers "Daddy".

"Baby boy."

Clicking the silver pen open, he starts with "Baby", then "Harry""My Boy", "Sweetcheeks", "Darling" and, finally, "Baby Boy"."

He nods twice when he finishes, and Louis continues immediately:

 

* State your overall health and any medical conditions or medication of which the Dominant should be aware of (eg.: allergies, asthma, back problems, phobias, chronic conditions, low blood sugar, contact lenses, etc. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Louis stops once again, watching his every move and expression leveraged by every thought as he went over the question.

I have a phobia of clowns, but that won't certainly be needed to be referred, right?

"I have anemia and I have to take daily iron supplements."  He writes down. Aside from that, nothing else occurred to him.

 

* State any emotional issues that you feel may cause a potential trigger or bad reactions from past or present (eg.: rape, incest, child abuse, etc.) or any potential emotional problems that the Dominant should be aware of that are safety issues: _____________________________________________________________________________  ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Louis reads that one even more carefully, his voice warmer, but the seriousness remained.

Harry didn't want to have to mention those things. The memories some of those things brought up felt like they would always haunt him his entire life. And he was sick of it. He wanted to forget it and not allow it to influence him ever again. But he had to be safe.

"Being called 'girl' and 'faggot'. I'm also easily scared, specially in the dark, and I'm over-ticklish in my armpits."

"Move on, please." He tells Louis, who was waiting for something he couldn't exactly tell. Maybe he was waiting for him to add something else, or say something more. But Harry was sick of over-thinking things that only put him down.

 

* Describe favorite fantasy of "Role-Play" you would like to play using the list below (circle all that apply and/or add below own fantasy(s):

Babysitter, Boss, Crossdressing, Daddy, Dancer, Doctor, French Maid, Worship, Kidnap/Captive Victim, Kitten, Rapist, Rape Victim, Role Reversal, Pet, Prince(ss), Secretary, Sex Object, Sissy, Slave, Slut, Strict Stepfather, Student, Teacher, Teasing/Tickling, Teasing/Denial.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He can't help but laugh to himself as Louis says all those words out loud. Really? Louis Tomlinson into role-playing?  Yet it was ridiculously hot at the same time. Specially the way he said 'Daddy'.

Nonchalantly, he brings the tip of the pen to his lips while he studies the probabilities of being into every single one of those kinks.

Babysitter... Me or him? Well, if it was him I probably wouldn't mind.

Boss... Maybe.

Crossdressing... I'm not sure.

Daddy... Is that even a question?

Dancer... Well, I've done that before.

Doctor... No way.

French Maid... I don't like doing chores, so if they're included, no.

Worship... Honestly, I wouldn't mind worshipping him. He's already a Greek God. But if it's me, then I think I'd be way to embarrassed.

Kidnap/Captive Victim... Hell, no.

Kitten... What? Play as a cat? He's got to be kidding.

Rapist, Rape Victim... I hate to admit that I find this hot. But if I give him my consent, it won't actually be considered rape, right?

Role Reversal... Louis Tomlinson bottoming?! Wouldn't miss that opportunity in a billion years.

Pet... Again? No. I'm not an animal, and he's not my owner.

Prince(ss)... With a little persuasion, yes.

Secretary... For him to sit on? Or as in 'Sexy secretary'? Because the first one sounds much better.

Sex object... To be used and abused?  I don't think he'll be that lucky.

Sissy... What?

Slave... No way.

Slut... No.

Strict Stepfather... Uh, fuck you. Yes.

Student... Cliché. But maybe.

Teacher... Only if it was him.

Teasing/Tickling... Lightly, maybe.

Teasing/Denial... Alright. I can try this.

He definitely was not proud of himself.

"If you change your mind or remember something else, you can always change your answers here." Louis says, watching him side-eye them.

"Yeah, I might." He sighs, molding a temporary smile on his lips.


* Describe the place you'd like to play your favorite fantasy in using the list below (circle all that apply and/or add below own ideal place(s):

Abandoned building, Beach, Dark back alley, Different city, Different time period, Elevator, Movie Theatre, Moving vehicle (eg.: car), My desk at work, My/Your bed, In the great outdoors.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hmm... All of them. Hold up. Beach? Dark alley? Elevator? Movie Theater? Sounds risky. But thrilling.

Somehow, he was particularly interested in doing it in his bed. He wondered what it looked like. It was probably a king-sized bed with silk sheets and everything. Jesus, he couldn't believe he had already done thing in his car, desk but not his bed. And not just once. God. Maybe I should consider circling 'Slut'.

He does a crooked circle around all the options and adds: "Fancy, but it'd have to be carefully planned and safe".

When he looks up, Louis had a rather amused, curious face.

"Done?"

Harry bites his lip, fighting the need to roll his eyes.

"Yes."


Limits

Soft Limits:

Which of the following sexual acts are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Masturbation

• Fellatio

• Anal intercourse

• Anal fisting

 

Oh. Fisting not a chance.

He scratches it out and hears Louis lightly cough. When he looks up, he finds him with a wry expression - squinted eyes and pouty lips.

He's mad.

Harry wasn't sure if he could see which one of them he had ruled out, but he was undoubtedly displeased he had done it in the first place. And the increase of stiffness on the tone of his voice proved him right.

 

Which of the following sex toys are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Anal beads

• Butt Plugs

• Cock Rings

• Dildos

• Prostate Massagers

• Pulsators

• Vibrators

 

Despite he had never used anal beads nor cock rings nor prostate massagers, he knew what they were and he quite frankly wouldn't mind trying them out.

"What's a pulsator?"

Louis' lips separate when he breathes through his mouth.

"It's pretty much like a vibrator. But instead of vibrating, it pulsates." He explains, his voice calmer now.

Oh God. They're all very welcome.

He lays his eyes on the contract, waiting for Louis to go on. But he doesn't.

"Harry."

He hears a trace of desire in his voice, which escalates when it spreads in the air around them. For a moment, he sees Louis stand up and walk to him in his head. He wanted him closer, his lips taking over his body. But he couldn't have that now.

"Mhm?" Harry says and feels how hard it was to swallow, still.

"You're not going to scratch anything?"

"No."

It was starting to become hard to breathe for him as well.

This time it's Louis who goes for a quick sip. He stares at Harry as he brings the glass to his lips and allows the water to leave his them damp, surely trying to tempt him even more. And the fucker was successful in his little task, as usual.

"Okay." He says as he puts the glass down.

 

Which of the following types of bondage is acceptable to the Submissive?

• Hands in front

• Hands behind back

• Ankles

• Knees

• Elbows

• Wrists to ankles

• Spreader bars

• Tied to furniture

• Blindfolding

• Gagging

• Suspension

• Bondage with Rope

• Bondage with Tape

• Bondage with handcuffs/metal restraints

• Bondage with leather cuffs


Whoa...

"No leather." Is all he was sure of. How could he know if many of those were "acceptable" to him if he had never done them before? Louis was the only he'd been with that liked tying him up and gagging him.

For a moment he recalls that time when Louis blindfolded him with his own tie and used his panties as a gag over his desk. That was intense, and he'd never felt so naughty before. So, perhaps the other types of bondage would feel great as well...

"Anything else?"

Maybe I should let him know.

"Well, I'm not sure if I can answer this properly when I haven't tried the majority of it."His voice is low, nearly touching the whisper.

"It's okay." Louis shrugs. "Leave it in blank. If you happen to be interested on trying them, we'll get back to them and you can scratch it if you happen not to like it."

"Alright."

 

Which of the following types of pain/punishment/discipline are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Spanking

• Paddling

• Whipping

• Caning

• Biting

• Nipple clamps

• Genital clamps

• Ice

• Hot wax

• Other types/methods of pain referred on clause 28.

 

No, no, no...

"No caning, no clamps of any kind and definitely no hot wax." He says, striking those options out. "And what is the purpose of ice?"

"Any purpose you want. Stimulation, temperature play... It can be used over the skin, such as neck, nipples, inner thighs, as well as the genitals and anus."

Oh, Lord. Why is he so tempting?

"Externally?"

"Externally and internally, if you're into that."

Ice inside my arsehole?! No, thank you.

"So can we keep it on the list?"

"Fine." He breathes out.  "But not inside me"

"As you wish."

 

Hard Limits:

• No acts involving fire play;

• No acts involving needles, knives, piercing, or blood;

• No acts involving direct contact of electric current (whether alternating or direct);

• No acts involving gynecological medical instruments;

• No acts involving urination or defecation;

• No acts involving children or animals.

 

Did he really have to write those down? Of course no one in their right state of mind would enjoy something like that. Are people really into those horrendous things? Jesus Christ.

"Okay. Is everything we've discussed so far right for you?"

"Uh, yes. If you make the alterations that I suggested."

Louis nods softly.

"Will do."

 

We, the undersigned, declare to abide the contract above with full commitment and awareness of our role during the term it is in effect:

 

_____________________________                                                                                                                                                            _______________________________

                (The Dominant)                                                                                                                                                                                   (The Submissive)

 

Holy mother of God. This is it. I can either sign this or not.

If he was honest, the whole submissive thing didn't sound so bad. He had recently experienced some of the things he'd do if he signed, and they weren't that unpleasant. On the contrary. And he knew he could trust Louis to respect him and his limits. Plus, he had been very honest and open to all his questions and objections.

He was safe with him. But there was something he had to know.

Song: Laura Welsh - Soft Control

"Am I your first?"

"What do you mean?" His brows pinch and a tiny wrinkle forms on his forehead.

"Am I the first guy to sign a BDSM contract with you?"

"Yes." He replies, simple but carefully.

Deep down, there was a smile hiding inside of  him.

Harry finger-combs his hair back, consulting the document before asking:

"And is this something essential to you in a relationship? Do you demand of a partner to submit themselves to you?"

"No." Louis shakes his head. "I wouldn't ever force someone to submit themselves to me. But I love dominating. It's a part of me that I can't get away from."

"Have you ever dated someone who didn't want this?"

"Yes."

Looking out of the window, where the sun had suddenly set and the sky was darkening every minute, he can't help but allow a bit of sadness to consume him as he wonders how many relationships Louis had been in before. He hoped it wasn't many.

"And did you leave them?"

He sees Louis shut his eyes and looking away for a second, as if what he asked him was painful to hear.

Fuck. I probably shouldn't have asked.

"No." He sighs, his voice considerably deeper. "But it was hard not being myself fully, and it just didn't work out."

"So it's essential."

"Harry, please..."

"Would you change for me, too?"

Louis pauses, thinking of something Harry would kill to know what it was.

"People don't change the way they are. They pretend. And, from my experience, a relationship can only work if there's honesty. And that's why you're here, Harry. If I didn't want us to work out I wouldn't be exposing myself like this. But I know this won't be very hard for you, like it might be for some people."

He shifts to the edge of his chair.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I know you're a natural submissive." He says, mirroring his previous move. "You love someone who takes charge and explores all of you with confidence."

Oh fuck. This can't end well.

"You love the rush of adrenaline burning in your veins when you let go of all control and allow me to do anything I want with you."

Suddenly, he needs a full glass of water. Specially with ice cubes.

"You love being tied up and feeling vulnerable, and when I spank you, hard and vigorous. That's the way you are. And I can make you the most genuine version of yourself." 

He takes hold of his glass and pours the refreshing drink down his throat. But even it seemed to be heating up.

The contract plays over his messy thoughts. All the rules and punishments, he still wasn't sure he could do all of that, even for the short period of two months. But he wanted to give it a try, regardless. He truly did.

"Yes." He says, his lips shaping a bashful smile.

"Yes, what?"

"I'll be your Submissive."

All he was in that moment, was pure adrenaline.

He signs his first and last name, checking Louis' reaction from under his eyelashes, his hand almost trembling. If he remembered correctly, he had never seen him that radiant before.  

"You just made me a very happy man, Mr. Styles."

Harry cocks his head until it almost meets his left shoulder, a wicked smile starting to take over his face.

"I like pleasing people, what can I do?"

He hands him the contract for him to leave his signature in, and he does the same on Louis'.

"Very well." Louis stands up all of a sudden, the folder held under his arm with the original version of the contract. "It's getting late. I better take you home."

Oh. I should've probably be home by now.

He turns the pages of his copy and slides it inside the envelope. But there was still papers left on the table.

"That's for you as well." Louis informs.

For me? What could it be?

He leans forwards and places those papers over his contract, sneaking a look at them.

"Don't read that yet." Louis commands in his forceful voice, making him shudder.

"Why?"

"It's the other part of the questionnaire. I want you to go over it by yourself. Alone."

Hesitantly, Harry slides them to the end of the contract.

"What does it say?"

"It's a spreadsheet where you have to tell me what you'd like to try, how much and in which circumstances. Kink-wise." He explains. "But it's a long list and I want you to take all the time you need."

Must be very long indeed, though.

"Mhm. Okay."

"You're sure you don't have any more questions?"

I'm sure there is something else I wanted to ask, but I can't remember.

"Nothing else occurs to me right now." He says, glancing at the floor.

"Good. "

Finally, Louis decides to approach him. He pulls Harry towards him with just one hand on his delicate waist, and kisses him.

In a matter of seconds, Harry had his arms around his neck and the contract on the floor. He'd been holding himself for way too long, and now he felt like he could explode. Louis' hand falls down to his butt, holding it like it belonged to him, and Harry moans onto his mouth.

But Louis knew, if they didn't stop right away, they'd both be hard and Harry wouldn't even be at home for dinner.

"Harry." He calls, loosening his grip on him. "We have to go."

No.

Harry kisses him again, giving his best, desperate to persuade him into staying. He even slips his free hand to his crotch, making him arch and breathe heavily, sure he had him in his hands.

But Louis was always annoyingly determined.

"Remember that you just signed the contract." He says, taking Harry's hands away from his body. "If you don't obey my command, I will have to punish you. And it wouldn't be today. Now grab the papers and let's go."

Harry shakes his head with his lower lip between his teeth.

"You're so used to getting your own way, aren't you?"

He takes the chance to roll his eyes at the ground as he crouches down before the frowzy envelope.

"You seem surprised."

With the contract already in hand, he glances at Louis still in that position.

I wouldn't mind making a hole in my jeans right now.

***************

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Friday he finishes school earlier. Mr. Harding had suddenly caught a really bad cold and couldn't give his class the last period of the day. Harry wasn't as happy as he'd be if he thought it was legit but, in all honesty, he couldn't help wondering if it was because Eric didn't want or couldn't see him so soon after he ended whatever they had. But, on the other hand, he had never taken a single day off work, so maybe he was indeed sick and Harry was just acting like he mattered more to him than he actually did.

Louis had texted him in the morning asking if they could take deal with the contract in his office early in the afternoon, not forgetting to end his message with an 'I love you.'

Only after all those days Harry came to realize he never said 'I love you' back. It was like a shock of regret and anxiety contusing his entire body, making him want to text him an 'I love you too' immediately. But through message it didn't have the same impact, specially if Louis noticed it too and decided not to bring it up because he thought Harry didn't love him back. Yet he did, so damn much he had that worry consuming him the entire day.

He obviously agreed to meet him in a heartbeat. That way he'd be able to apologize in person and make up to him for his stupid act. Or lack of.

 

To: Louis

5 P.M is okay with you?

3:47 P.M

 

As soon as his teacher turns around, he sneaks a glance at his phone that vibrated in his hand with a new message.

 

From: Louis

I t's perfect. I'll be waiting for you.

P.S: Are you skipping classes today? If you are thinking about it, don't. I can come pick you up when you've complied with your schedule.

3:50 P.M

 

Only him to think of the fact that I might have classes at that time...

 

To: Louis

Don't worry about it, I won't be missing classes. Mr. Harding is sick, so I won't have the last period.

P.S: I'm a an exemplary student if you didn't know.

3:53 P.M

 

From the corner of his eye, he could feel Liam snooping at his phone, trying to read his message.

"I thought Biopsychology was interesting enough for you." He says, hastily blocking his phone and glaring at him.

He was expecting a reason for that, since they've never invaded each other's privacy like that before. But then Harry didn't have a single secret he kept from him; now he did, although that wasn't ideal for any of them.

Liam, as clever as always, gets straight to the point.

"You've been acting very weird lately. Always on your phone, never going out with me or the guys..." Liam whispers, although they were sat at the end of the classroom and there was too much noise for them to be heard anyway. "It seems like you're hiding something from me."

"Here we go again..." Harry turns his face away, pretending he was paying attention to his teacher again.

He wanted to let him know about Louis and him. He really did. But he had promised Louis he wouldn't tell anyone and, unfortunately, the walls seemed to ears everywhere he went. Plus, the future of their relationship was still uncertain. Yes, Louis might've made him the biggest love declaration ever but, in spite of it, every morning Harry woke up afraid it was all just a dream and Louis would've never existed in the real word.

If he told that to anyone they'd think it was ridiculous, absurd, a complete nonsense. But how could he know Louis wasn't a vision he created in his mind to make his life more interesting and all the moments they had were just made up by his impaired brain? Yet even if it was, he would never dare to destroy the thin, wavering line between reality and fantasy he was poising over because of him.

"Tell me I don't have reasons to be suspicious."

Harry knew Liam wouldn't stop until he had the answer he seeked, and his persuasion was likely his most annoying trait.

"You do." He admits, praying deep inside that his interrogatory would stop right there.

But it doesn't.

"Then just tell me. Why are you acting so different?"

Taking a deep, uptight breath, he let's the words of truth roll out of his mouth.

"I'm seeing someone."

"What?" Liam's eyes bulge out so wide it seems like they'd jump out of their sockets any time.

"I'm seeing someone. But it's a secret, so I'd be glad if you could keep it that way."

Liam processes his words in silence, looking from his teacher to him. Harry could tell he was discussing something to himself, perhaps trying to guess who he was dating. But he knew that wasn't an hard guess, and Liam, being the smart pupil with a granted scholarship he was, would figure it out in a heartbeat. He knew it.

"Sure." Liam nods, his tongue peeking out of his mouth from his much concentration. "Is it your sexologist?"

Oh for God's sake...

Harry has to fix a distant point in the classroom and grasp onto it as hard as he can not to roll his eyes under his friend's steady gaze. How could he be so dumb to think that maybe, just maybe, Liam wouldn't guess the right answer at first?

I can't tell him. He can't know. No one can, not even my best friend.

"Uh.. no!" He fakes repugnance with a noisy exhalation and displayed front teeth. But it comes out unmeasured to a point he wonders if even he would believe it if he was in Liam's place. Getting hold of himself and his hardly-controllable face expressions, he shakes his head at last. "It's somebody else."

"Can I at least know his name?"

"You can actually shut the front door because you've had your answer already." He says, using his sassiness as a shelter to his lie. He knew it wasn't the best - it was made of slim tree branches, easily blown away by the wind or set on fire by a thunder -, but it was the first thing he found in that survival situation.

"Jeez. That "somebody else" is seriously making you sharp-tongued." And their conversation ends there.

Harry stares at nothing for a few more minutes, waiting for Liam to be caught and distracted by Mr. Harvey's explanations to take his phone from between his legs and see what Louis had sent him.

 

From: Louis

Glad to hear that.

Laters, Sweetcheeks. Xx

3:54 P.M

 

He can't help but smile with his chest weighing up and down as he breathes, feeling his heart beat a tempo faster just from the sweet way he ended his message.

 

To: Louis
See you later, Mr. Tomlinson ;)

3:56 P.M

 

 

 

At 5 P.M. sharp he's entering the grey-tiled building with his satchel on his left shoulder and a positive mind-set that kept telling him he would be strong enough to face whatever he was about to face.

When he arrives at the ninth floor, Louis' secretary stops him before he can fly in autopilot to his office and his face nearly turns crimson as he realizes he had to ask her for permission before he could walk in like that. Not that Louis wouldn't give him, but, for everyone else, he was just a mere patient of his.

"Mr. Styles?" She calls out.

Harry turns around as he fights the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't want to feel annoyed by her stolid, sweet tone of voice, or the fact that she barely even blinked before she was stopping him from getting inside his boyfriend's office.

But he did.

"Yes?" He asks, walking a few steps away from the door.

"You don't have an appointment today." She says from behind her computer.

"Mr. Tomlinson must have forgotten to warn you, then. He called me today because one of his patients couldn't make it, so..."

Her eyes become gradually smaller as she tastes his lie and gets up from his chair to be at the same level as his. But, although he might be seeing things differently than what they really were, she was adopting a defiant position, like a middle-age warrior ready to duel against his rival for the property he owned.

"Well, Mr. Tomlinson doesn't like last minute appointments. He prefers to go take that time for himself. I'm sure he's about to head home." She says like she knew all about his private life, glancing to his office once and again.

Bitch.

Bitch

"I-"

"He's a very busy man. But you can call here Monday and we'll see when Mr. Tomlinson can see you."

As if by magic, he hears Louis right behind him and his heart jumps through his navy blue oxford shirt.

As if by magic, he hears Louis right behind him and his heart jumps through his navy blue oxford shirt

"No need to." He says, his voice strangely lower than he used to know. "Mr. Styles and I actually do have an appointment." He walks another silent step forward, and now he was standing beside Harry with his hands buried in his suit pants' pockets and his serious face on. "It's not correct to call my patients liars, Amelia."

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Tomlinson." She fixes her long hair behind her ear, her eyes wide in guilt. "But you didn't tell me you'd have another patient for today."

Her embarrassment was so much she couldn't barely avoid stuttering.

"Well, next time that happens use your legs or the telephone." He says, purposefuly staring at her flustered face with annoyance pouring out of his pores.

Although Harry felt bad for her deep down, he had to bite the inside of his cheeks not to laugh at her face. She was just doing her job after all. Yet he had a feeling she was somehow starting to nuture some sort of jealousy of him. And the fact that she seemed to be thinking Louis was choosing his side over hers wasn't going to help.

"Sure." She swallows loudly. "I'm sorry again."

Louis simply nods and turns his head to face him. And his expression softens almost instantly.

"You ready, Mr. Styles?"

He felt her eyes burning a whole through his skin and he just couldn't stop looking back at her, because something clearly wasn't right. But he decides not to let her affect him.

"Yes." He nods, taking a moment for him to contemplate Louis' appearence.

His beard was bigger than he remembered over his mouth and chin, starting to create the effect of an untrimmed bush, with shades of red by the soft, warm lighting of the hall. And his small, turquoise eyes lustered even brighter amid all the brown.

That day his working garment consisted on a fitted dark grey suit that almost turned black over a plain white button-up shirt. His hair was different as well, styled in temperate, untidy thick waves thrown aside at the front in his usual fringe. But in the back it was its naturally straight, jagged self.

Harry immediately fell in love with that hairstyle.

"I'm afraid I won't need you for the next hour, Amelia. Go home earlier, have some rest." Louis tells the visibly stressed women and her face sags in shock.

Harry wasn't sure if that was the best approach not to drawn suspicious at them, but he opted to believe Louis knew what he was doing.

"Let's go then?"

Louis lets one hand slide to Harry's waist where her eye range didn't allow her to see and guides him, taking it out a few seconds later. It was so brief and subtle, yet Harry felt safe again. Safe in a way only Louis could provide him.

And then there's the famous butterflies tickling his stomach.

 

Once he's inside the locked fortress that was Louis' office, he notices a big change in the atmosphere.

It was quiet like a tomb, the outside world incapable of piercing through those walls. The lighting of the room weren't the incandescent cool white lamps of the ceiling, but a line of warm LED white lamps on the three main walls. And there was also a different smell in the air from the candle burning on the black-painted wood shelf unit beside the door, of a delicate, shrubby mixture.

He recognized the notes of lavender flying around like summer butterflies in a green grass field, because his mother used to wash the floor of the house with a lavender scented-detergent when Spring arrived. And it was his favorite smell to walk around the house with, and maybe that's why she used it so often.

"Smells good in here." Harry says, squinting his eyes to try and read the label surrounding the simple, expensive-looking white candle. He read the large golden word at the centre of the label, 'Neom', before Louis spoke up.

"It's an organic brand." He shifts closer. "English Lavender, Sweet Basil and Jasmine."

Harry limits his reply to a quiet nod, standing in front of the lingering flame.

"We should've gone to your house instead."

He feels Louis' hand on his back, caressing its way to his right side.

"We can still go, if you want."

His head turns almost automatically so that he could look at him. But then the urge to kiss him came in the path of his logic just to mess his head even more, and he had to take a deep breath to collect himself. It wasn't time to falter.

It was time to deal with a very serious contract - by the looks of it - and have a fresh mind to be able to deal with it accordingly.

"Now that we've made your secretary suspect us?" He pushes his hand off his stern body and Louis' face shrivels like a wilted flower.

"She didn't suspect anything. She just needed me to put her in her place." Louis tells him, but it was hard for Harry to believe that.

Louis didn't see the way she stared at him like he was a big problem in her life when they've only seen each other a few times. And he had always been good at telling if someone liked him or not. And she did not. For no apparent reason.

"Amelia's been acting rudely towards my patients for a couple of days, and I wasn't having it any longer. Specially not with you."

Oh. Maybe I'm not the problem after all...

"Thank you." He mutters, silently regretting having pushed Louis away.

"Does that make you more relieved?"

Louis takes hold of his body, pulling him in for a brief kiss, and this time Harry doesn't object.

"Yes." He whispers, trying to calm himself down and not have an anxiety attack right then and there. He didn't want Louis to see him like that ever. "I didn't want to be this nervous mess, but I can't help stressing out about it."

Louis finds his lips yet again, kissing them softly as the fondle of a feather.

"I know." Louis snakes his arms around his neck and, in that moment, Harry realizes he was getting taller than him. But he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Deep down, he knew he liked feeling small and being manhandled by such overpowering man. Yet there was also a part of him that was begging to become taller than all the guys who made fun of him, for he was always one of the shortest of the class.

"As much as I try to hide it, I'm constantly worried about it. But we chose this, right? We were aware of the consequences."

"Yes." Harry tells him with confidence, although everything happened so fast he didn't actually think about all the things that would follow after he accepted to be in a relationship with him. But he shakes his head because, as long as he'd have Louis beside him, he would be completed for the time that it lasted. And life, always as unpredictable, would follow its natural course and there was nothing he could do to stop it but be happy while he could. "And you're worth all of it."

"You are too." Louis whisper as he leans forward to attach their lips together, his thumb dancing close to Harry's mouth until their tongues find each other in a desperate act.

Harry hooks his hand in his neck, lean fingers playing with the short strands of hair at his nape while his body gives in in Louis' hands for a moment.

He didn't know what happened to him all of a sudden. Just one touch of Louis and his self-control was far gone.

He felt weak every time he was near him, regardless of how sassy and determined he acted. Maybe it's the effect love has on people; it makes you bend and become vulnerable for the person you love, like you're saying "Here's all of me. Take it and break it if you wish, for all that I know is that, right now, I'm nothing and you're everything."

Louis is the first to end the kiss, noticing how Harry had his eyes closed and, by the look on his face, could stay like that all day.

"I think we better get started." He says, pulling his lip down with the tip of his thumb as Harry met his eager eyes. "Don't you agree?"

Harry bites his own lip, dragging the taste of Louis to his tongue.

"I..."

... Love you.

"Yes." He coughs, not yet feeling like that was the perfect time to say those words. But he ends up making a mental promise to say it the moment they part ways. If he wasn't terrified and screaming on his way out. No. Nothing Louis had in store could scare him to a point he'd leave him.

Louis walks to his desk and, as Harry follows him, he notices his usual stack of papers had been replaced by a single black file folder that was laying on top of it alone.

"This is the contract." Louis holds the folder between his hands, eyeing him with caution.

Harry was standing by his desk, hands fidgeting and his heart racing. All the waiting was killing him. He knew it probably wouldn't be worth the worry, but all the mystery around it was enough to make him anxious, like a simple piece of paper could end their relationship.

"Please sit down." Louis instructs and sinks on his chair right after Harry does. "I don't want you so nervous. Am I scaring you?"

Why would he think it's him?

"No." His answer is clear as fresh spring water, despite the grey fog revolving around him.

"Do you trust me?"

"I do."

Harry glances the folder still safely held by Louis before meeting his attentive eyes.

"So try to relax, okay?" He asks, starting to pull the papers out.

There wasn't just one sheet inside, but a joint of approximately sixty papers pinned together.

Whoa. That's the whole thing?

"This contract is very detailed and..." Louis pauses, searching for the word, and sees how Harry had his lips parted in a mix of surprise, shock and wonder. "... Long. So we might not have time to go over every single thing."

Realizing his mouth was hanging open, Harry quickly closes it.

"But i'd suggest you keep a copy and go over it at your own pace. You know if you have any questions - anything - just ask me whenever and I'll make sure to clear everything up for you. Just... say you will."

Seeing Louis like that, all professional and committed to something, made him think the subject of that contract was something he was truly passioned about and wanted to become real.

"Okay." He nods his head, forming a polite smile on his mouth.

Louis smiles back at him, one of those smiles that not only reached his ears but his eyes too.

"Great. Now I think I better get us a glass of water before we begin. Wait for me in the lounge chairs."

Five seconds later, Louis is out of the door and he's left all alone with his thoughts and a still-enigmatic contract.

Secretly, he wanted to peek at the pages to finally unravel the mystery and take that opportunity to run away if it was something he could never do. But, at the same time, he knew Louis trusted him too, and probably if he was caught touching his things and sneaking glances at the papers, it'd break his trust on him.

But probably wasn't a yes.

As he reaches his hand out to grab the folder, he hears a noise coming from outside the door and immediately pulls away.

Shit. Why do I have to be so curious and impatient?

With his heart beating at a hectic speed, he grabs his satchel and flies to the other side of the room, landing on the velvet chair turned to the window wall.

Louis walks in with two whiskey glasses on his hands, one half-full and another filled all the way up.

"I wasn't sure if you're a drinker, so I filled your glass just in case you might get thirsty."

Why the hell does he have whiskey glasses in his office?

Harry stares at his own lap as he smiles, attempting to hide the fact that he was flustered from the sudden rush of adrenaline he felt when he was almost caught.

"Thank you. I usually do."

He sees Louis smile back at him as he walks by and he's sure he saw the red all over his cheeks, but, if he was any lucky, he would assume it's from what he'd said and not because he had done something wrong.

"Did you bring the exams that I asked you?" Louis asks, looking up at him while he places the glasses on the opposite corners of the table. His eyes were a starry night sky, just like the one that was about to come up outside, with excitement pouring out with every blink.

"Uh, yes. I have my HIV results with me." He opens his satchel and digs his hand in, taking out the slightly crumpled papers that he places on the wooden coffee table between them. "But, regarding my exams, I wasn't very sure what you wanted so I brought you my blood tests from last month. I hope it's enough."

To his surprise, Louis doesn't lay a hand on his medical exams.

"It's more than enough. Thank you." He says, his legs casually crossing in a broken square and his eyes growing big like an owl's. "You know, I just asked you for them for your own safety and nothing else. If you agree to do this, I won't want to end up hurting you from lack of information. But I'm only going to see them if you sign the contract, I promise you."

Hurting me? What could possibly hurt me about a contract?

"Thank you." He mutters, his fingers tangling over his thighs.

"Are you ready to begin?" 

He doesn't hesitate a second.

"Yes."

Louis stands up one last time to get the contract that he'd left on his desk and Harry takes the time to reposition himself on the mellow chair, sitting up straighter.

Song: Halsey - Control (Instrumental)

"First of all, I would like you to sign a NDA." Louis says, sitting down, and then takes the papers out of his folder, setting them in the middle of the table.  "It means you can't disclose anything on the contract with anyone and you're willing to maintain the secrecy of our relationship."

"A Non-Disclosure Agreement?"

Louis eyebrows arch higher than usual, like he was surprised that he knew what it was.

"My mum's a lawyer." He apprises.

What a great time to mention your mother. Seriously.

"Oh."

That sounded like something that would come out of his mouth, not Louis'.

"I would always keep my word, regardless." He adds.

"I'm pleased to hear that."

Louis hands him the paper along with a pen and he fills out every empty space meant for the 'Receiving Party', taking the time to read the provisions before signing. Louis had already signed his part.

His full name is Louis William Tomlinson? He could've been a King with that name if we were in the fifteenth century.

He gives it back to Louis after writing the date and Louis nods his head in acknowledgment.

"Will you tell me what the contract's about now?"

There had been a lump in his throat for a while, but he only notices it when Louis saves the NDA in the folder and the actual contract takes its previous spot on the table. He should've gotten himself a sip from his glass of water, but he knew it wouldn't be able to push it away.

"Have you heard about BDSM?"

Holy. Fuck.

His steady heartbeat hastens downhill like the fall on a rollercoaster, getting out of control. But, to his surprise, it wasn't as scary as he assumed that ride to be. He had become so aware of his body all of a sudden, and how it heated up with exhilarating adrenaline as Louis gazed at him cautiously that he grew curious of how even more alive he could feel if he didn't get out.

"I have." He confesses, cold sweat spilling out to cool his body down.

He had never thought Louis would be into that, although the signs were all there. He was manly, possessive, controlling, protective and... dominant.

"So you know what a BDSM relationship consists of?"

"Yes." Harry captures his lower lips for a second. "Well, kind of. But I've never been in one."

He can see a shadow of a smug smile over Louis' mouth and then his face turns into the epitome of cryptic. 

"It's more complex than you'd think." He lays his hands on the table, using them to accompany his speech. "There are two core principles to the BDSM lifestyle: "Safe, Sane, Consensual" and "Risk Aware Consensual Kink.". The first one means that you take precautions to prevent accidents, you don't do anything that is obviously dangerous, and you know your partner and negotiate which activities you are willing to engage in in advance. The latter is geared more towards the sorts of fetishes/kinks that are not classed as "sane" - activities where there's risk of physical, mental, and emotional injury -, like flogging, caning and other types of punishments. And that's why it's very important to define and use safe-words."

Louis takes a pause to study Harry's face and try to find out how he was reacting to all of it.

Harry had never seen someone talking about something with so much knowledge and passion. He couldn't say he wasn't worried with the activities Louis might want him to engage in, but he wanted to know which ones gave him the most pleasure, and all his kinks and fetishes. He already knew Louis liked to spank, so maybe, if they weren't more inclined to the "unsafe" side and he was indeed up to negotiation, he would be willing to try it.

"But I'll explain anything you don't know as we go. Just ask me, yeah?"

"Yes." Harry agrees, his voice coming out low.

Louis wets his lips as he splits the sixty-something papers and offers half of it for Harry to take along with a simple envelope that he assumed it was where it previously were.

"This is your copy of the contract. Please follow me."

Song: Halsey - Castle (Instrumental)

The papers were of a old yellow tone and thicker-than-standard. At the very top of the first page there was the word "Contract" written in bold, capital letters.

Okay. Here we go.

Louis raises his voice and starts reading:

 

CONTRACT

1. The following contract was meticulously elaborated to present the terms between the Dominant and the Submissive.

Agreement made on __April 21st___ of 2017 (The Commencement Date) between:

(The Dominant)                                                                                                                                   (The Submissive)

Mr. Louis Tomlinson                                                                                                                             Mr. Harry Styles

17, Beauchamp Place                                                                                                              32, Waddington Road

Knightsbridge,  SW1 1KA                                                                                                             Stratford, E15 1QW

London, U.K                                                                                                                                                    London, U.K

Commencement and Term             

2. The Dominant and the Submissive enter into this contract on the Commencement Date written above fully aware of its nature and undertake to abide by its conditions.

3. This contract will be effective for the period of two months, counting from the Commencement Date. When its expiration comes, the Dominant and the Submissive shall discuss whether this contract and the arrangements made are satisfactory and if the needs of each party have been fulfilled. Both parties may propose the extension of this contract as well as the adjustments they see fit. In the absence of agreement to the extension by one or both parties, this contract will cease and both parties are free to resume their lives separately.

 

The contract is temporary? But without contract there's no Louis?

He chooses to keep reading and save question that for later if it was still necessary.

 

Fundamental Terms                   

4. The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the Submissive to explore his submission, sensuality and his limits safe and unashamedly.

5.The Dominant and the Submissive agree and acknowledge that all that occurs under the stated terms of this contract will be consensual, confidential and subject to the agreed limits and safety procedures set out.

6. The Dominant and the Submissive warrant that they don't suffer from any sexual, serious, infectious and/or life-threatening illness. If during the term of this contract either party is diagnosed to becomes aware of such illness, he undertakes to inform the other immediately and before any form of physical contact between the parties.

7. If the Dominant fails to keep to the agreed terms, limitations and safety procedures, the Submissive is entitled to terminate this contract forthwith and without notice.

8. Adherence to the above warranties, agreements and undertaking, as well as any limits, safety procedures agreed, are essential to this contract. Any breach will immediately render it void and each party will be responsible to the other for its consequence.

Rules

Obedience/Submission:

9. The Submissive isn't allowed to refer to the Dominant as anything but Master, Sir or Mr. Tomlinson during scene. The Submissive may chose which one(s) he likes the best. Exceptionally, and with his consent, the Submissive may call the Dominant by his name.

 

"What's a 'scene'?"

"It's the BDSM activity."

Oh.

"And where does it take place? In your bedroom?"

He just hoped it wouldn't be a basement or something like that. That would be awful.

"I have a special room - a Playspace - just for the scenes to take place. But, obviously, we can play outside it."

A Playspace...

"Do you have a lot of things in your Playspace?"

Louis runs his fingers over his stubble, caressing his cheek.

"I do, actually."

"Cool."

Harry can see a dirty thought cross his mind when he smirks out of the blue.

"I could show it to you one of these days if you want."

I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be just a tour.

"We'll see about that."

 

10. The Dominant claims and the Submissive will give his Dominant full ownership over his body during scene to do with as the he pleases.

11. The Submissive will obey and serve the Dominant to the best of his ability and devote himself entirely to the training, guidance and discipline given by the Dominant without query or hesitation.

12. The Submissive will answer any and all questions asked by the Dominant freely, promptly, and to the best of his knowledge. The Submissive further agrees to volunteer any information that the Dominant should know regarding his physical or emotional state. The Dominant agrees to never use this information to harm Submissive in any way.

13. The Submissive agrees to speak respectfully to the Dominant and be polite at all times, including the time not spent in a scene.

 

He feels his throat so dry he has to take a long sip from his water as he tries to process all the information he'd heard so far. Louis stops reading as he does.

I have to give him full ownership of my body? For him to do whatever? And answer all the questions he asks? What if it's none of his business? And be polite at all times? What if he's an asshole? Oh god...

Uncertainty starts building up at the end of his stomach. But the problem was that he was willing to ignore it completely, because he wanted Louis. He needed  him in his life.

"Are you okay?" Louis asks, his gaze darker.

"Yes. Please proceed."

 

Personal Safety:

14. The Submissive is prohibited from consuming any type of drugs and tobacco. Alcohol shall only be consumed in moderation and in the presence of the Dominant. The Dominant will never force any drugs or tobacco upon the Submissive and he should not dare ask for it.


For a moment, his mind drifts to the time he had champagne on the London Eye. He was still underage, so he shouldn't be allowed to drink at all. But he was almost turning eighteen, therefore he didn't understand why Louis prohibited him from drinking without his presence. 


15. The Submissive will not brawl or engage in unnecessary physical fights with other people. In case something of this nature happens, the Submissive assures of reporting it to the Dominant and he will take action accordingly.

16. The Submissive will not walk outside alone past 1 A.M unless it's an emergency or he has the consent of the Dominant.

Sleep:

17. The Submissive shall sleep a minimum of seven-eight hours sleep per night when he is not with the Dominant. After an intense scene, the Submissive shall and is allowed to sleep from nine to twelve hours, never exceeding the limit.

Food:

18. The Submissive will ensure he ingests a minimum of 1,5L of water a day paired with a healthy, balanced diet rich in fiber, healthy carbs and protein of his liking .

19. The Submissive should never eat heavy meals prior to a scene as it may be dangerous for his health. It's of the Submissive's obligation to eat until one hour before the start of a scene.

Exercise:

20.  The Submissive will work out at least three times a week for not less than one hour, using his free time and any place he wishes (eg.: school, home, outdoors, etc.).

 

I think I can do this.

 

Personal Hygiene:

21. The Submissive will always keep his body clean and shaved and/or waxed.

 

He lets out a quiet scoff. It was even funnier in Louis' earnest voice.

"I think this one might be hard for me." He jokes with a straight expression on his face.

"I can get you a shower and a great esthetician, don't worry."

He really liked that Louis could understand sarcasm and always decided to play along. Ricky wasn't like that; he always thought he was being serious and ended up getting mad.

God, why am I even thinking about that dickhead...

 

22. The Submissive will make sure he douches in advance to any scene.

Personal Qualities:

23. The Submissive will not engage in any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant.

24. The Submissive will not argue or complain with the Dominant in the presence of others.

 

Then again.

"We have to negotiate this."

Louis raises his eyes, and they were bluntly confused.

"Why?"

"Louis, seriously? I can't promise you that won't ever happen. I have the right to express myself, just like you do."

"Yes, but not in public."

"What's the matter?" He shrugs at Louis' unyielding position. "Not everything has to be one big, dark secret."

Louis clicks his pen, making the nib disappear.

"Because, as my Submissive, you reflect who I am. And that is not a polite thing to do. I'm a good Dominant, but you have to be a good Submissive too."

How can I reflect who he is if our relationship is a secret that no one can know about?

"Alright. I can try."

After all, the contract was only for two months. If anything didn't work out the way he wanted or there was something he wasn't truly capable of doing, he could ask Louis to re-negotiate it.

"Great." Louis smiles, and he's instantly content with his answer.


If the Submissive fails to comply with any of the rules, he will be punishment urgently in the way the Dominant finds appropriate.

How hard will those punishments be? I enjoyed being spanked before, so maybe that won't even be considered a punishment. Oh shit.

 

Service Provisions

25. The following service provisions have been discussed and agreed and will be adhered to by both parties during the Term.

Dominant:

25.1. The Dominant will make the Submissive's health, wellbeing and safety a priority at all times, and shall never request, allow or demand the Submissive to participate in any acts or activities that deemed to be unsafe.

25.2. The Dominant will never give the Submissive more than he can physically/emotionally handle and any action/activity will cease immediately when the Submissive uses his safe word/gesture.

25.3. The Dominant shall maintain a stable and safe environment in which the Submissive may perform her duties in service of the Dominant.

25.4.  The Dominant takes responsibility for the training, guidance and discipline of the Submissive, and shall decide their nature, time and place.

25.5. The Dominant owns the right to dismiss the Submissive from his service at any time and for any reason he sees fit.

25.6 The Dominant will discipline the Submissive as necessary to ensure the Submissive fully appreciates his role of submission and to discourage any unacceptable conduct. The Dominant may spank, flog, whip or corporally punish the Submissive in any other way he intends and desires.

25. 7. In training and administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that no permanent marks are made on the Submissive's body nor any injuries incurred that may require medical attention.

25.8 In training and administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that the instruments and equipment used for the purposes of discipline are safe and clean, and they will not be used in such a way as to cause serious harm and/or exceed the limits defined and detailed in this contract.

25.9. In case of illness or injury, the Dominant will care for the Submissive and bring him medical assistance if needed.

25.10. The Dominant shall maintain his own good health and seek medical attention when necessary in order to maintain a risk-free environment.

25.11. The Dominant will never loan his Submissive to another Dominant.

Harry can't help but glance at him. Something like that would never cross his mind, but apparently, that was a thing? He was glad Louis wouldn't do it, though. Because, if he did, Harry wouldn't think he would be able to sign the contract. He wasn't a sex object; not anymore.

Submissive:

25.12. The Submissive accepts the Dominant as his master, with the understanding that he is now the property of the Dominant, to be dealt with as the Dominant pleases during the Term and, specially, during scene.

25.13. The Submissive will obey the rules without questioning.

25.14. The Submissive shall submit to any sexual activity demanded by the Dominant.

25.15. The Submissive will not touch the Dominant without his permission during a scene.

25.16. The Submissive shall accept spankings, whippings, floggings, caning, or any other discipline the Dominant decides to administer without hesitation, enquiry or complaint.

25.17. The Submissive will treat his body with care and respect, ensuring no harm to it, so it is always available for the Dominant in its best conditions. It is not for the Submissive to physically punish his body, but exclusively to the Dominant.

25.18. The Submissive is free to pleasure himself, but he must inform the Dominant every time he does so and agrees to never do it more than once a day and/or to the point of exhaustion.

What the hell? But if he can't see it, he will never know.

25.19. The Submissive accepts the responsibility of using the establish safe-words accordingly.

Training

26. The Submissive will be given a weekly training scheduled for Friday night, and shall keep his Friday evenings free so as to have plenty of time for discipline training.

 

"What if I can't make it every Friday?"

"Then you must have a good reason." Louis says, uncrossing and spreading his legs wide." Think of it like a class. If you skip it, you'll be punished."

What if I run away? Jesus, Harry. Stop being so stupid. You love him. And he loves you - in some strange way -, but he does.

 

Safewords

27. The Dominant recognizes that he may make demands of the Submissive that cannot be met without incurring physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or other harm at the time the demands are made to the Submissive during scene. In such circumstances, the Submissive may make use of a safeword.

Two Safewords will be invoked depending on the severity of the demands:

27.1 "Yellow": Will be used to bring to the attention of the Dominant that the Submissive is close to his limit of endurance.

27.2. "Red": Will be used to bring to the attention of the Dominant that the Submissive cannot tolerate any further demands. When this word is said the Dominant's action will stop immediate and completely.

27. 3  If the Submissive happens to be unable to say his safeword during scene, he shall resort to a physical safeword. The easiest and most commonly used is stomping:

27.3.1. One stomp: Is somewhere between "Green" and "Yellow" (eg.: "Oh. That hurt, but I liked it.")

27.3.2. Two stomps: Is equivalent to the safeword "Yellow".

27.3.3 Three stomps: Is equivalent to the safeword "Red".

Punishment

28. Punishment will be given for the following offenses:

28.1. Cockiness or rudeness.

28.2. Disobeying the rules.

Mild Punishments include: slapping, spanking, light pinching, ball gags, cropping, biting, hair pulling, eye contact restriction and going to bed early.

Medium Punishments include: multiple slapping, genital pinching, intense bondage time, nipple clamps, paddling,  speech restriction, spreader bars and suspension.

Severe Punishments include: cock whipping, tickling, choking, spitting, caning, verbal humiliation, chastity cage, testicle cuffs, orgasm denial and sexual deprivation.

 

Holy fuck. Those sound painful. He wants to do all of these things to me?!

"Uh. What exactly is orgasm denial? Is it not letting me come?"

"Yes. It's pretty much self-explanatory. The Dominant stimulates the Submissive to the brink of orgasm and then abruptly stop all stimulation. This cycle may be repeated many times."

Sounds hot, although very tough.

"And what's the purpose of it?" He asks, joining his knees together. Secretly, he wanted Louis to try that on him.

"Orgasm denial can be used as a training tool for things like increasing tolerance for stimulation, learning how to control orgasms, learning how to orgasm on demand, and learning how to be a more eager-to-please Submissive." Louis explains, and Harry notices how his indigo blue eyes run from his lap, to his mouth and stop on his eyes. "Not to mention how good it feels in the end."

Harry could feel his skin burning before his gaze, but he couldn't let himself be distracted by his predator eyes. He was stronger than that.

Louis clears his throat before continuing:

 

The Dominant will never punish the Submissive when he doesn't deserve or in feelings of anger. He will always inform the Submissive that he's being punished when the punishment occurs as well as the reason(s), either before, during or following punishment.

Punishment must not incur permanent bodily harm or the following forms of abuse:

• Burning the body;

• Drastic loss of circulation;

• Internal bleeding;

• Loss of consciousness;

•  Withholding of any necessary materials (e.g.: food, water, sunlight) for extended periods of time;

• Blood may not be drawn at any time.

 

Thank God. At least he's not insane.

 

Permanent bodily harm shall be determined as:

•  Any damage that involves loss of mobility or function, including broken bones;

•  Any permanent marks on the skin (e.g.: scars, burns, tattoos, etc.), unless accepted by the slave;

•  Any piercing of the flesh which might leave a permanent hole;

•  Any loss of hair.

If the Submissive ever comes to permanent bodily harm during the course of punishment (or in any other activity performed during a BDSM scene), whether by intention or accident, it will be grounds for immediate termination of this contract.

Pre-Scene Negotiation Questionnaire

Since every scene includes a wide range or activities involving a negotiated transfer of power between consenting, caring parties, the Submissive should fill out this questionnaire to the best of his ability to help the Dominant carefully assess all fears and limits before planning a scene. The purpose of the following questionnaire is for a Safe, Sane and Consensual scene.

* Name(s) the Submissive would like to be called in the scene: ________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________

"Please write your answers down." Louis says, calm and distant. "Take your time."

 

Oh. I have to write them. Okay.

Conveniently, there was a pen in the table in front of him that he hadn't noticed before.

He tries to remember which names Louis had called him before that he'd enjoyed. Sweetcheeks, Baby, Darling, My Boy, Princess... All four of them always titillated him; made him feel some sort of way he'd never felt before. But there was one he wasn't sure if he would write down.

Princess... he ponders as he stares at the empty lines, trying to imagine if it'd have the same effect as the others had on him if he was tied up and getting spanked. But all Louis said in his head was "Baby", as his hands roamed around his body, and he whispers "Daddy".

"Baby boy."

Clicking the silver pen open, he starts with "Baby", then "Harry""My Boy", "Sweetcheeks", "Darling" and, finally, "Baby Boy"."

He nods twice when he finishes, and Louis continues immediately:

 

* State your overall health and any medical conditions or medication of which the Dominant should be aware of (eg.: allergies, asthma, back problems, phobias, chronic conditions, low blood sugar, contact lenses, etc. ____________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________

 

Louis stops once again, watching his every move and expression leveraged by every thought as he went over the question.

I have a phobia of clowns, but that won't certainly be needed to be referred, right?

"I have anemia and I have to take daily iron supplements."  He writes down. Aside from that, nothing else occurred to him.

 

* State any emotional issues that you feel may cause a potential trigger or bad reactions from past or present (eg.: rape, incest, child abuse, etc.) or any potential emotional problems that the Dominant should be aware of that are safety issues: ____________________________________  _______________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________

 

Louis reads that one even more carefully, his voice warmer, but the seriousness remained.

Harry didn't want to have to mention those things. The memories some of those things brought up felt like they would always haunt him his entire life. And he was sick of it. He wanted to forget it and not allow it to influence him ever again. But he had to be safe.

"Being called 'girl' and 'faggot'. I'm also easily scared, specially in the dark, and I'm over-ticklish in my armpits."

"Move on, please." He tells Louis, who was waiting for something he couldn't exactly tell. Maybe he was waiting for him to add something else, or say something more. But Harry was sick of over-thinking things that only put him down.

 

* Describe favorite fantasy of "Role-Play" you would like to play using the list below (circle all that apply and/or add below own fantasy(s):

Babysitter, Boss, Crossdressing, Daddy, Dancer, Doctor, French Maid, Worship, Kidnap/Captive Victim, Kitten, Rapist, Rape Victim, Role Reversal, Pet, Prince(ss), Secretary, Sex Object, Sissy, Slave, Slut, Strict Stepfather, Student, Teacher, Teasing/Tickling, Teasing/Denial.

_________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________

He can't help but laugh to himself as Louis says all those words out loud. Really? Louis Tomlinson into role-playing?  Yet it was ridiculously hot at the same time. Specially the way he said 'Daddy'.

Nonchalantly, he brings the tip of the pen to his lips while he studies the probabilities of being into every single one of those kinks.

Babysitter... Me or him? Well, if it was him I probably wouldn't mind.

Boss... Maybe.

Crossdressing... I'm not sure.

Daddy... Is that even a question?

Dancer... Well, I've done that before.

Doctor... No way.

French Maid... I don't like doing chores, so if they're included, no.

Worship... Honestly, I wouldn't mind worshipping him. He's already a Greek God. But if it's me, then I think I'd be way to embarrassed.

Kidnap/Captive Victim... Hell, no.

Kitten... What? Play as a cat? He's got to be kidding.

Rapist, Rape Victim... I hate to admit that I find this hot. But if I give him my consent, it won't actually be considered rape, right?

Role Reversal... Louis Tomlinson bottoming?! Wouldn't miss that opportunity in a billion years.

Pet... Again? No. I'm not an animal, and he's not my owner.

Prince(ss)... With a little persuasion, yes.

Secretary... For him to sit on? Or as in 'Sexy secretary'? Because the first one sounds much better.

Sex object... To be used and abused?  I don't think he'll be that lucky.

Sissy... What?

Slave... No way.

Slut... No.

Strict Stepfather... Uh, fuck you. Yes.

Student... Cliché. But maybe.

Teacher... Only if it was him.

Teasing/Tickling... Lightly, maybe.

Teasing/Denial... Alright. I can try this.

He definitely was not proud of himself.

"If you change your mind or remember something else, you can always change your answers here." Louis says, watching him side-eye them.

"Yeah, I might." He sighs, molding a temporary smile on his lips.


* Describe the place you'd like to play your favorite fantasy in using the list below (circle all that apply and/or add below own ideal place(s):

Abandoned building, Beach, Dark back alley, Different city, Different time period, Elevator, Movie Theatre, Moving vehicle (eg.: car), My desk at work, My/Your bed, In the great outdoors.

_________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________

Hmm... All of them. Hold up. Beach? Dark alley? Elevator? Movie Theater? Sounds risky. But thrilling.

Somehow, he was particularly interested in doing it in his bed. He wondered what it looked like. It was probably a king-sized bed with silk sheets and everything. Jesus, he couldn't believe he had already done thing in his car, desk but not his bed. And not just once. God. Maybe I should consider circling 'Slut'.

He does a crooked circle around all the options and adds: "Fancy, but it'd have to be carefully planned and safe".

When he looks up, Louis had a rather amused, curious face.

"Done?"

Harry bites his lip, fighting the need to roll his eyes.

"Yes."


Limits

Soft Limits:

Which of the following sexual acts are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Masturbation

• Fellatio

• Anal intercourse

• Anal fisting

 

Oh. Fisting not a chance.

He scratches it out and hears Louis lightly cough. When he looks up, he finds him with a wry expression - squinted eyes and pouty lips.

He's mad.

Harry wasn't sure if he could see which one of them he had ruled out, but he was undoubtedly displeased he had done it in the first place. And the increase of stiffness on the tone of his voice proved him right.

 

Which of the following sex toys are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Anal beads

• Butt Plugs

• Cock Rings

• Dildos

• Prostate Massagers

• Pulsators

• Vibrators

 

Despite he had never used anal beads nor cock rings nor prostate massagers, he knew what they were and he quite frankly wouldn't mind trying them out.

"What's a pulsator?"

Louis' lips separate when he breathes through his mouth.

"It's pretty much like a vibrator. But instead of vibrating, it pulsates." He explains, his voice calmer now.

Oh God. They're all very welcome.

He lays his eyes on the contract, waiting for Louis to go on. But he doesn't.

"Harry."

He hears a trace of desire in his voice, which escalates when it spreads in the air around them. For a moment, he sees Louis stand up and walk to him in his head. He wanted him closer, his lips taking over his body. But he couldn't have that now.

"Mhm?" Harry says and feels how hard it was to swallow, still.

"You're not going to scratch anything?"

"No."

It was starting to become hard to breathe for him as well.

This time it's Louis who goes for a quick sip. He stares at Harry as he brings the glass to his lips and allows the water to leave his them damp, surely trying to tempt him even more. And the fucker was successful in his little task, as usual.

"Okay." He says as he puts the glass down.

 

Which of the following types of bondage is acceptable to the Submissive?

• Hands in front

• Hands behind back

• Ankles

• Knees

• Elbows

• Wrists to ankles

• Spreader bars

• Tied to furniture

• Blindfolding

• Gagging

• Suspension

• Bondage with Rope

• Bondage with Tape

• Bondage with handcuffs/metal restraints

• Bondage with leather cuffs


Whoa...

"No leather." Is all he was sure of. How could he know if many of those were "acceptable" to him if he had never done them before? Louis was the only he'd been with that liked tying him up and gagging him.

For a moment he recalls that time when Louis blindfolded him with his own tie and used his panties as a gag over his desk. That was intense, and he'd never felt so naughty before. So, perhaps the other types of bondage would feel great as well...

"Anything else?"

Maybe I should let him know.

"Well, I'm not sure if I can answer this properly when I haven't tried the majority of it."His voice is low, nearly touching the whisper.

"It's okay." Louis shrugs. "Leave it in blank. If you happen to be interested on trying them, we'll get back to them and you can scratch it if you happen not to like it."

"Alright."

 

Which of the following types of pain/punishment/discipline are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Spanking

• Paddling

• Whipping

• Caning

• Biting

• Nipple clamps

• Genital clamps

• Ice

• Hot wax

• Other types/methods of pain referred on clause 28.

 

No, no, no...

"No caning, no clamps of any kind and definitely no hot wax." He says, striking those options out. "And what is the purpose of ice?"

"Any purpose you want. Stimulation, temperature play... It can be used over the skin, such as neck, nipples, inner thighs, as well as the genitals and anus."

Oh, Lord. Why is he so tempting?

"Externally?"

"Externally and internally, if you're into that."

Ice inside my arsehole?! No, thank you.

"So can we keep it on the list?"

"Fine." He breathes out.  "But not inside me"

"As you wish."

 

Hard Limits:

• No acts involving fire play;

• No acts involving needles, knives, piercing, or blood;

• No acts involving direct contact of electric current (whether alternating or direct);

• No acts involving gynecological medical instruments;

• No acts involving urination or defecation;

• No acts involving children or animals.

 

Did he really have to write those down? Of course no one in their right state of mind would enjoy something like that. Are people really into those horrendous things? Jesus Christ.

"Okay. Is everything we've discussed so far right for you?"

"Uh, yes. If you make the alterations that I suggested."

Louis nods softly.

"Will do."

 

We, the undersigned, declare to abide the contract above with full commitment and awareness of our role during the term it is in effect.

_____________________________                                                    ______________________________

                (The Dominant)                                                                                              (The Submissive)

 

Holy mother of God. This is it. I can either sign this or not.

If he was honest, the whole submissive thing didn't sound so bad. He had recently experienced some of the things he'd do if he signed, and they weren't that unpleasant. On the contrary. And he knew he could trust Louis to respect him and his limits. Plus, he had been very honest and open to all his questions and objections.

He was safe with him. But there was something he had to know.

Song: Laura Welsh - Soft Control

"Am I your first?"

"What do you mean?" His brows pinch and a tiny wrinkle forms on his forehead.

"Am I the first guy to sign a BDSM contract with you?"

"Yes." He replies, simple but carefully.

Deep down, there was a smile hiding inside of  him.

Harry finger-combs his hair back, consulting the document before asking:

"And is this something essential to you in a relationship? Do you demand of a partner to submit themselves to you?"

"No." Louis shakes his head. "I wouldn't ever force someone to submit themselves to me. But I love dominating. It's a part of me that I can't get away from."

"Have you ever dated someone who didn't want this?"

"Yes."

Looking out of the window, where the sun had suddenly set and the sky was darkening every minute, he can't help but allow a bit of sadness to consume him as he wonders how many relationships Louis had been in before. He hoped it wasn't many.

"And did you leave them?"

He sees Louis shut his eyes and looking away for a second, as if what he asked him was painful to hear.

Fuck. I probably shouldn't have asked.

"No." He sighs, his voice considerably deeper. "But it was hard not being myself fully, and it just didn't work out."

"So it's essential."

"Harry, please..."

"Would you change for me, too?"

Louis pauses, thinking of something Harry would kill to know what it was.

"People don't change the way they are. They pretend. And, from my experience, a relationship can only work if there's honesty. And that's why you're here, Harry. If I didn't want us to work out I wouldn't be exposing myself like this. But I know this won't be very hard for you, like it might be for some people."

He shifts to the edge of his chair.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I know you're a natural submissive." He says, mirroring his previous move. "You love someone who takes charge and explores all of you with confidence."

Oh fuck. This can't end well.

"You love the rush of adrenaline burning in your veins when you let go of all control and allow me to do anything I want with you."

Suddenly, he needs a full glass of water. Specially with ice cubes.

"You love being tied up and feeling vulnerable, and when I spank you, hard and vigorous. That's the way you are. And I can make you the most genuine version of yourself." 

He takes hold of his glass and pours the refreshing drink down his throat. But even it seemed to be heating up.

The contract plays over his messy thoughts. All the rules and punishments, he still wasn't sure he could do all of that, even for the short period of two months. But he wanted to give it a try, regardless. He truly did.

"Yes." He says, his lips shaping a bashful smile.

"Yes, what?"

"I'll be your Submissive."

All he was in that moment, was pure adrenaline.

He signs his first and last name, checking Louis' reaction from under his eyelashes, his hand almost trembling. If he remembered correctly, he had never seen him that radiant before.  

"You just made me a very happy man, Mr. Styles."

Harry cocks his head until it almost meets his left shoulder, a wicked smile starting to take over his face.

"I like pleasing people, what can I do?"

He hands him the contract for him to leave his signature in, and he does the same on Louis'.

"Very well." Louis stands up all of a sudden, the folder held under his arm with the original version of the contract. "It's getting late. I better take you home."

Oh. I should've probably be home by now.

He turns the pages of his copy and slides it inside the envelope. But there was still papers left on the table.

"That's for you as well." Louis informs.

For me? What could it be?

He leans forwards and places those papers over his contract, sneaking a look at them.

"Don't read that yet." Louis commands in his forceful voice, making him shudder.

"Why?"

"It's the other part of the questionnaire. I want you to go over it by yourself. Alone."

Hesitantly, Harry slides them to the end of the contract.

"What does it say?"

"It's a spreadsheet where you have to tell me what you'd like to try, how much and in which circumstances. Kink-wise." He explains. "But it's a long list and I want you to take all the time you need."

Must be very long indeed, though.

"Mhm. Okay."

"You're sure you don't have any more questions?"

I'm sure there is something else I wanted to ask, but I can't remember.

"Nothing else occurs to me right now." He says, glancing at the floor.

"Good. "

Finally, Louis decides to approach him. He pulls Harry towards him with just one hand on his delicate waist, and kisses him.

In a matter of seconds, Harry had his arms around his neck and the contract on the floor. He'd been holding himself for way too long, and now he felt like he could explode. Louis' hand falls down to his butt, holding it like it belonged to him, and Harry moans onto his mouth.

But Louis knew, if they didn't stop right away, they'd both be hard and Harry wouldn't even be at home for dinner.

"Harry." He calls, loosening his grip on him. "We have to go."

No.

Harry kisses him again, giving his best, desperate to persuade him into staying. He even slips his free hand to his crotch, making him arch and breathe heavily, sure he had him in his hands.

But Louis was always annoyingly determined.

"Remember that you just signed the contract." He says, taking Harry's hands away from his body. "If you don't obey my command, I will have to punish you. And it wouldn't be today. Now grab the papers and let's go."

Harry shakes his head with his lower lip between his teeth.

"You're so used to getting your own way, aren't you?"

He takes the chance to roll his eyes at the ground as he crouches down before the frowzy envelope.

"You seem surprised."

With the contract already in hand, he glances at Louis still in that position.

I wouldn't mind making a hole in my jeans right now.

***************

 

 

Chapter Text

                                                                

 

 

 

The lights of the hallway were already off, signaling nobody was working on that floor. But they turn on automatically as soon as they sense movement.

Louis locks the door of his office, his face showing no emotional at all as if he was a robot. Harry didn't like the fact that, from a moment to the next, he was so distant, although his body was so close. It was as if he had suddenly became a stranger to him.

With a hand on his hand and the remaining carrying his ashen brown briefcase, Louis hales him inside the elevator. He clicks the button of the ground floor and casually leans against the back wall. But his hand never leaves Harry's.

Harry wonders if he should say something, and if so what, but he can't help assuming Louis is mad at him. So he decides to stay silent. He didn't want to make things worse for him and end up getting punished.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Louis shutting his eyes while he takes a deep breath. He wanted to take the advantage that he was now vulnerable to grab him and kiss all over his neck and lips and not let him go away. As much as he tried to fight it, Harry wanted him. All of him. But his eyes don't take long to open, and it turns out to be less than a second before the elevator stops on their destination floor.

Dammit.

The parking garage was three times bigger than his entire house, but there were only less than twenty cars there. He easily spots Louis' Mercedes on one of the closest spots as they approach it.

I'm finally going to see him drive his own car.

Louis points the little remote towards his car and it makes a high beep-beep sound.

"Get in." Louis instructs, not yet making eye contact with him. Something was clearly off.

Harry opens his door and quietly sits down on the cushy, leather upholstery next to him. Louis throws his briefcase to the backseats before locking his seatbelt and promptly starts the car.

The engine wasn't noisy at all and that vehicle seemed like it could go up to 200km/h and feel as if it was moving at 60km/h at best.

Louis glances at him when his feet touches the pedals, his hand wrapping around the gear, making the car start reversing.

"Put your seatbelt on." He says, his voice mildly dry.

Oh. Harry had completely forgotten about that, and he was usually all about safety.

Louis had his seat somewhat sloping backwards, like the bad guys in action movies, his hands at the limit of being able to fully grasp onto the steering-wheel. And, for some reason he couldn't explain, that was one of the sexiest moments Harry had ever witnessed in his life.

Soon enough they get into the fast-lane, with too many vehicles almost pilled over each other. Harry thinks about sliding his body down a little bit, in case someone would recognize him. But he was probably exaggerating. What are the chances though?

Louis manages to get them out of that chaos and swerves to take the highway at the first exist found.

"Can we turn on the radio?" Harry asks, starting to feel a slight boredom taking over him. If he was staring at Louis rather than the monotonous road he wouldn't feel that way, but he didn't want to look like a creep.

"Sure."

He reaches his hand forward and clicks on the digital button of the tiny screen between them. A feminine, breathy high-pitched voice starts singing, and it clicks on him in a matter of seconds.

"You like Ariana Grande?" He questions, trying not to let his amused giggles come out. Who would've thought Dr. Tomlinson enjoyed mainstream Pop and R&b music?

Louis turns to look at him.

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

"Not at all."

As the track gets near the chorus, he realizes he'd actually heard that song before and the lyrics start forming in his mind.

"Oh baby look what you started. The temperature's rising in here. Is this gonna happen? 'Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move. Before I make a move."

Harry lets his head fall against the headrest as he lipsyncs along with it. That exact moment felt like it could be the music video of that song and Harry felt every word on his skin.

The dark orange sunset with faded streaks of pink and purple on the sky followed them throughout their drive, and every lyric seemed to had been written about them, every requirement from the singer his own.

"You like it too, don't you?" Louis asks with a smile appearing on his face, his focused eyes still on the road.

"Not really." He shrugs, glancing at Louis to evaluate his current expression.

"You're such a bad liar."

Who would've guessed?

His eyes shut close for a minute, appreciating the rest of the song and the pleasant sensation he felt inside. But when he gets in touch with the real world, his heart stops beating.

"Where are we going?" He asks, noticing how Louis was in fact taking the opposite direction to his house.

"We're going home."

Holy shit. He's taking me to his house.

Harry freezes in his spot, not knowing what to do. I can't go to his place so late in the day. What am I gonna tell my mum? I should've been home by now.

"Louis, I can't." He says, his eyes wide in vexation. "I can't take any longer. My mum's gonna get worried."

"Then call her." Louis says as if it was that simple to tell your mother you were casually going to your sexologist's house at dinner time.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Don't you want to come?"

Harry rolls his eyes at the window. You're asking now?

"And what should I tell her?"

He slowly dives his hand inside the pocket of his jeans, feeling his phone at the bottom. It had already two missing calls and they were both from his mom. Fuck. How didn't I hear it ring?

Louis shakes his head like it was none of his business and he shouldn't be trying to figure out a smart plan with him.

"Whatever you want."

"That really helps." He says under his breath, and immediately wishes Louis didn't hear him.

His mom picks up at the second ring.

"Harry, where are you? I've been worried sick. Gemma's abou t to put the dinner on the table."

Her voice was desperate for a justification.

"Calm down. I'm fine, mum. Liam decided to pick me up from my appointment and asked me to sleep over."

He was surprised with what he came up with.

"You should've called or texted me at least. You know I don't like you sleeping at your friends' places without asking first."

Louis takes a brief glance at him before turning the volume down.

"I know. I'm sorry. But we were listening to music and I completely forgot about my phone."

Her sigh is easily heard on the other side of the line.

"It's alright. Is everything okay then? Are you staying there the whole weekend?

"Yes, don't worry. I'm coming home tomorrow."

"Okay. If you need your sister to pick you up just text her. She'll be staying at home. I have an important case to deal with and I probably won't be available.

"It's fine. I'll say something tomorrow. Thanks mum."

"Bye-bye sweetheart. Behave."

"Am I still such a terrible liar?" He stares at Louis over his shoulder, casually resting his elbow on the window sill.

"I have to give it to you." Louis gently smiles at the road. "You were great."

Harry cocks his head towards him in a nonchalant act for attention, his eyes jumping up and down in the progress. "Oh, stop it..."

Louis doesn't look back at him like he wanted him to. And that made him pout his lips.

A new song starts playing from a possible mixtape he had on, the same voice singing with breathless eager desire.

 

"Tell me something I need to know

Then take my breath and never let it go

If you just let me invade your space

I'll take the pleasure, take it with the pain"

 

Louis takes his left hand off the steering-wheel to turn the volume back up, this time making the music a bit louder than it was before. But just when Harry thought it was about to return to his safe position, he lets it fall down to his lap. It doesn't do anything, just lays there like a person on the warm sand of the beach, but it's enough to make him expel all the air inside his lungs.

"What do you want for dinner?" Louis asks. But if Harry wasn't hungry before, he definitely wasn't now. Not for food, at least.

"Are you cooking?" He asks with an affectionate smile shaping his lips. He always found it hot when a guy could cook - probably because he was no culinary master -, but to that day he had never known one who could besides his uncle.

"Not today."

Oh. So takeaway it is...

"Whatever you want, then. I'm not hungry." He shrugs, his eyes getting lost on the freeway.

Louis gradually tightens his grip around his upper thigh.

"Well I am. All this talk about sex made me very, very hungry." He squints his eyes maliciously.

Oh God.

"You should eat too. I have pizza leftovers at home, but that wouldn't be very mannerly of me." He lowers his voice like he's thinking to himself. " So we could get ourselves some chinese or a salad. Whatever you like."

"Pizza sounds great. You don't have to worry about it."

Louis takes his eyes off the road to stare back at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Harry nods truthfully. "Unless it has meat in it."

"Actually, no." Louis smiles to himself like that was a small victory for him. "It's a Margherita. My favorite."

Hmm cheesy pizza...

"Done then."

A man begins to sing from the bass speakers, startling him. It was the distinctive head voice of the one and only The Weeknd singing the same melody as before. Harry tries to pay attention to the lyrics, because he was really starting to enjoy that catchy tune, but he's promptly distracted by Louis' hand sliding down his upper thigh.

His breath hitches on his throat like he'd just seen something obscene in plain daylight, his body tensing up in a hasty reaction to that blazing energy that spread all over him.

"What are you doing?" Harry asks, although he knew what he was doing. And Louis did too.

His face remains impassive, but his eyes were a burning darker shade of blue.

"I'm trying to drive us home."

Why is he calling it 'home' when I don't even live there?

Harry knew one of them had to give in for what they both wanted to happen. And, since he wasn't as good with self-control, it was him.

With a high dose of mischief taking over his body, Harry lays his hand over Louis' to push it between his legs. And all that longing was worth it. He sees Louis taut up for a second, his nails gripping the steering-wheel so hard his bones stuck out. Harry thinks he was going to take it out and leave him sitting there on edge, but he just keeps driving as if nothing was going on down there. Biting his lip, he decides to take charge and uses Louis' hand as his own, moving it in circles and pressing hard against his hardening member. In that moment, all he can think about is Louis taking off his tie and wrapping it around his hands so that he's completely defenseless and submissive to him. But, sadly, that remains just a dream.

Another song starts playing and he's incapable of paying any attention to it. He only notices the sound was darker with a slower and marked beat.

He had no idea if they were close to his house or not, but he hoped so. Or else they would have to pull up somewhere because all of his control was a heartbeat from being gone.

Feeling his brain starting to shut down with the delicious heat pooling down in that special area inside of him, he throws his head back, leaving it turned in Louis' direction. He could hear his breathing become shallow with every twist of his hand, and his foot sinks down on the speed pedal.

"What are you doing to me?" Louis breathes out, shaking his head in disbelief. But Harry didn't seem to be stopping any time soon. So he decides to put matter into his own hands. "Put your hands underneath you. I want nothing touching you but me, clear?" He commands, briefly catching his lustful gaze.

Harry lets go of his lower lip and wobbles side to side until he's sat over his own hands. But Louis makes no movement whatsoever.

"I want you like this until we get to my house. You're lucky we're almost there."

What? He's not going to make me come?

"I want you now." He whines and jerks his hips forward so that he doesn't disobey him but still feels some friction that his large hand allowed.

Unexpectedly, Louis presses his palm as hard as possible against him, making him roll his eyes as his head turns all the way up in absolute surrender. And his touch is suddenly gone.

Harry shuts his eyes, feeling overthrown.

"And you're gonna have me. All of me, inside of you. Just not here."

Wait. He's going to fuck me?

Harry is capable of holding himself for the silent ten minutes - which seemed like an hour - that it took to get to Louis' house by focusing on anything else but his semi-erection or Louis.

The car slows down in a wide dead-end street of a clearly rich neighborhood. All the houses were very similar to each other - the same front yard, the same creme brick walls, the same two floors - besides the one at the very end, which had a massive iron embroidered black gate and was even bigger than the others. Harry wondered if it belonged to a renowned celebrity.

"Which one is your house?"

"That one." Louis points to the beautiful, lavish mansion at the end of the street. It was the kind of house a middle-class boy never expected to be entering so early in his life, if ever.

Harry's jaw instantly falls to the floor.

He calls that a house?

Louis parks the car by the curb in front of the tall gate and takes his seatbelt off.

"You were a good boy." He whispers onto Harry's ear before getting out of the car. Stopping in front of the passenger door with the wind softly blowing his hair, he opens it for him. "Let's go now. I'm going to reward you."

Clutching his hand, Louis leads him through the front yard by the concrete walkway that disembogued on the entrance to the house. He had two small flowerbeds by the classy all-creme entrance, above them vintage wall lamps light up, illuminating the clouding eventide.

Louis fishes for his keys on the back pocket and handily unlocks the thin-frame glass double door.

They end up in a fairly long hallway with glossy white marble tiles and matching cement walls on all its extension. There was a curved light pinewood staircase at the left side of the hall with two plush chairs and a round, dark wood end table below. The decoration, however, was minimalist - only a plant vase on one corner and a pale fauvism painting of boats and houses swimming on a lake.

"Whoa... Your house is incredible!" He utters, still gobsmacked, admiring all the details of that highly-elegant-with-a-modern-touch room.

Louis' lips quirk up in a smile, showing off his perfectly aligned teeth, before he drops his briefcase on the dresses by the door. Then he strips off from his blazer, hanging it on the empty hat rack.

Harry can't help a glance at Louis' body now that he was only wearing his button-up shirt, and feels his mouth water at the slightest. That man was an eye candy.

"I'm glad not to disappoint you." Louis says.

Next thing he notices is something determinedly rubbing against his leg. Startled, he looks down immediately and is surprised to find a gracious tabby cat greeting him.

"You have a cat? I love cats." He says and, with some effort, crouches down to pet her soft, medium-length fur. He was still hard. "What's her name?"

"Emma." Louis stares at them, perplexed. "She always does that when I arrive. But I've never seen her do it to somebody else."

Seeing how friendly and welcoming she was acting towards him, Harry carefully grabs Emma and pulls her up against his chest. Louis' eyes widen in raw surprise, and for a second he thinks he should've asked for permission before he did that.

"She usually doesn't let strangers hold her."

Harry smiles triumphantly. It made him genuinely happy that he had a knack for cats, since, from a young age, he remembered he wanted to have one.

Her head brushes against his palm, wanting more caresses. If Louis wasn't enough for making him want to come back to that house, he'd found a new reason.

"Aw she's so fluffy! I'm gonna die." He thinks aloud, that smile not being able to be taken away from his face very easily. If he could, he would adopt her.

"But she ain't gonna fuck you."

Harry almost chokes when he finds Louis' dark, steady gaze on him as he had been completely oblivious of everything around him from the second he held her. Louis had impatience fuming from the way he put his hand on his hip and quietly tapped his fingers against his own shirt.

He's jealous of a cat?

"Why are you so grumpy?" Harry stares blankly at him, letting Emma down to go about her life.

Louis walks towards him, slow and withheld.

"Because you drive me absolutely crazy."

Louis roughly pulls him by his waist and drags him to the closest wall, where his head lightly knocks against. Without delay, he begins to attack his neck with soft bites and kisses. Harry blows out a moan from both the unexpectedness and the delicious feeling of Louis' mouth on that sensitive, shiver-causing spot. With the few residual strength, he places his hands on Louis' slim waist and feels his muscles contract to his touch. Only after a solid minute of neck invasion that was going to leave him with a big, dark red hickey, Louis kisses him on the mouth, wrapping his fingers around his head to hold it in place. But, still, Harry felt like slippery jelly.

"I want you... I want you." Harry whispers against his glistening, sinful lips, earning Louis' immediate attention. His night sky blue eyes dilate with every breath, studying his as if checking for any hint of doubt. But there was none.

"Let's go upstairs ." Louis jerks him up all of a sudden, bringing him to his lap and securing him with his reliable, strong arms.

Harry giggles as he snakes his legs around him, afraid he wouldn't be able to put up with all of his weight. Never in his life had he felt so loved and safe like in that memorable moment.

"Do you really have to carry me to your room?"

Louis' eyes light up momentarily as he stares at him with fond.

"I'm a romantic, haven't you heard?" He tells him, squinting his eyes as if he became James Bond level of seriousness. And Harry saw he had a great actor hiding inside of him, just from a single, spontaneous performance.

Louis carries him upstairs with ease, completely forgetting about their dinner.

The hallway of the second floor was narrower but equally elegant, with dark oak vinyl flooring in contrast with the white walls and doors. Harry briefly captures his figure in a silver mirror over an end table. From the little he could assess, his hair was a wavy mess and his face was still flustered from the unforeseen make-out session against the wall. Crap.

Louis turns left and pushes the opaque-glass double door open.

His bedroom was different than the picture he had painted in his mind. It wasn't all blood red walls and bedding with a whip here and there. It was extremely sophisticated and modern, all in shades of beige and grey. The bed was located in the middle of the room over a fluffy, rectangular rug, slightly to the right where a broad floor-to-ceiling window granted an amazing view of his backyard and the neighborhood around. Louis had such good taste on everything he still couldn't believe his eyes.

With him on his lap, Louis bends over his polished, grey dresser below the big plasma screen tv to grab a small remote control and, suddenly, the lights go dim. The crescent moon was the main source of lighting now, blandly glowing through the open-curtained window.

Louis strolls over his bed and throws him onto it. A loud giggle escapes from Harry's mouth from the feeling of flying, and he wouldn't rather land on any other place. But Louis' face doesn't shift as he stands by him, gazing and thinking something to himself.

"Do you have a condom?" Harry remembers to ask. He wasn't expecting him to have a whole pack of them in his nightstand drawer - and if he was honest, he didn't want him to -, but in this case it came on handy.

"Of course I do." He frowns and his tongue makes a quick escape from his mouth to wet his lips. The act was so casual for him, but if Harry didn't know better he would think he was trying to seduce him. Even more, if that was physically possible.

Song: Professional - The Weeknd

Louis' hand begins to undo the buttons of his shirt and all Harry could do was gawk and drool as his tanned chest became fully exposed to him only. Pretty soon, Louis is completely naked before him, in all his Greek God glory. It was disarming.

Sweet Jesus...

With the shadows of the moonlight, his abs and biceps looked perfectly chiseled, and Harry wonders if it's because he had been working out harder. Yet Louis doesn't allow him to dwell in his wayward thoughts, as he hovers over his covered body and reaches for his ear.

"Tonight I'm gonna make you all mine." He whispers, brushing his lips against his earlobe.

Those seven words had to be the hottest thing anybody had ever said to him. And now he was quivering, gasping and longing with that familiar, achy discomfort. His heartbeat spikes up at the sudden realization of what was going to happen in a minute. Never in his life he felt so ready and sure about something. He wanted Louis Tomlinson to take his virginity. And, in that special moment he had waited years for, nothing else mattered.

Oh God. Yes, please.

"But first we have to get you off your lovely clothes." He says and rises onto his feet so that Harry would have space to sit up.

Louis unbuttons his pink plaid shirt, promptly sliding it down his arms and throwing it onto the floor, and Harry found it odd how calm and carefree he stood there naked as he undressed him.

"Lay down." He asks, his lips forming a half smirk on his face.

Harry lets himself fall down against the luxurious mattress, finding comfort in the smooth, linen coverlet. He props himself up in his elbows to watch him. Louis yanks his pants down and his biceps bulge out obscenely. Harry feels his blood pumping from his head to his big toe, and the fact that Louis had kneeled down to take his converse off and was eyeing with pure lust didn't help. As usual, he's left with his panties only.

That morning he had purposely opted for his best and newest panties - the blue silk ones - having faith that Louis might see them that day if they got carried away. But being brought to his home and laid on his bed to be fucked for the first time in his life was far from what he could ever expect.

The thump of his shoes meeting the hard floor startles him.

"There's something I have to ask you." Louis begins, climbing on top of him again. His cock was still semi-hard and Harry was amazed from how he managed to keep it like that. Maybe he really turned him on.

"What?" He asks, bracing himself for the worst. He didn't want him to ask him if he didn't forget to shave his pubes recently to keep that area hairless or if he had douched that morning, because how the hell could he know Louis was going to be fucking him that evening?

"Are you a side?"

"I'm what?" Harry frowns and Louis' lips twitch at his confused face.

Why is it so funny that I don't know what it is? Do I like to be fucked on the side? Well, I don't know, probably.

"A side. It's a guy who doesn't enjoy anal penetration." Louis' breath hits his face as he speaks. It smelled of coffee.

Oh.

"No. Well... I don't know. " How could I know if I've never had sex?

Only then it clicks on him.

"I've used toys and I like to have them inside me." He tells him, knowing that wasn't brand new information.

Out of the blue, the not-so-friendly reminder that Louis has watched his livestreams before makes his heart stop. Does he still watch them? How many more videos has he watched? Holy fuck.

"I could tell that."

If you could tell then why did you ask? The bastard.

Harry feels his cheeks turn scarlet beneath his pleased side smirk. Yet it was mostly from the shocking reply, as he, surprisingly, didn't feel as embarrassed as he thought he would feel by being reminded that Louis Tomlinson watched his videos. Deep inside, he was starting to become more and more comfortable with Louis and to let him know all of his secrets. It was scary and a relief at the same time, because he'd never trusted someone this much in his life as he trusted his mom and sister.

Louis kisses him gently, his thumb rubbing against his cheek as if in an attempt to take the blush out of them.

"I'm gonna get the lube and condom." He tells him before he stands up. "Rest your head on the pillow, baby."

On his hands and knees, Harry climbs onto the bed and lays down on the right side of it, hoping it wasn't Louis side of the bed. A small bottle of lube and two foil packets are placed beside him, right at the edge of the bed. And then he has Louis straddling him.

"Now relax and don't think about anything else." Louis says, eyeing him attentively like he was going to start a though, probably vital procedure. "I'm going to prepare you for me first, and I promise I won't make it hurt. Yeah?"

I'm definitely gonna need preparation for that.

"Okay." Harry nods, sure about his choice, and sees a ghost of a grin appear on Louis' face.

"Turn around."

Harry turns onto his back, resting his head on the wide, tender pillow. It doesn't take long before Louis' hauling his hips up, and that move was already so familiar he could anticipate exactly what he was about to do.

With his fingers slicked all the way to the base, Louis pulls his panties down and begins to circle his thumb against his entrance, easily dragging soft moans out of Harry's lips. He teases it in once and again, watching him squirm and bury his head onto the pillow.

"You're so sweet, Harry. So beautiful. And I can't wait to be inside of you."

His breathing gets stuck in his throat from Louis' words, and he immediately reaches up for air. But there seemed to be none in that scalding hot bedroom. Louis honestly thought he was beautiful, and none of his partners had ever said and meant it like he did.

Without delay, Louis inserts his index and middle fingers all at one go and thrusts them in and out hurriedly, knowing Harry could easily take them from his own experience.

Harry's fingers search for the perfectly-folded sheets and clasp them hard.

"Louis... please. Fuck me now." He begs, hardly recognizing his hoarse voice, laced with an indecent amount of desire.

"You're still not stretched enough for me, baby." Louis keeps on, adding his long, third finger inside of him.

How more turned on can I be? If he doesn't fuck me now I'm gonna have to come.

"I don't fucking care. Just fuck me." He raises his voice, attempting at some authority and hoping that would make him stop. His member was already leaking onto the once-clean bedding, aching and needy.

Suddenly, Louis quits his delicious teasing and spins him around by his legs. Harry was panting now, staring back at his hungry hiena eyes that were dying to devour him. Yet his face was relaxed, thin rosy lips parted like it was just as hard for him to breathe.

"I'm only not gonna rip these panties off because I really like them." Louis traces his finger across the hem and slowly starts tugging them down his thighs, legs and feet.

Harry was glad he wasn't going to do such thing, because, for him £15 was actually expensive for a single pair of panties. But the quality was remarkable; they felt like he had no underwear on, not to mention the fact that he was wearing them when a couple of memorable moments happened. They were his good-luck panties. It'd be a shame to have them ruined.

Sitting astride him, Louis grabs hold of his hardening cock and briskly jerks himself off as he glares at the moist mess that Harry was now. When it starts to curve and hang up in the air, nearly touching his tummy, he reaches for a condom and envelops it all the way down his length, then adding a dense layer of lube all over.

This is it. Holy shit.

Song: Toxic - Britney Spears (Marie Plassard Cover)

Facing him, Louis runs his thumb across his cheek and down to his mouth, pulling his lip down and his body immediately reacts, knowing it belonged to him.

"If I go too fast and it starts to get painful don't hesitate to tell me, okay?

Harry nods, only finding trust in his blue-eyed gaze.

"Spread your legs, love."

Holding onto Louis' neck, Harry separates his legs as wide he can, still being in a comfortable position. His heart nearly escapes from his chest as he watches Louis grab his member and positioning it on his loosened entrance, but he involuntarily clenches it.

"Please relax. I don't want to hurt you."

"Okay."

Trying his best, he remembers to think of how Louis had made him feel incredible in ways he'd never felt before, rather than the potential pain. Never once had he hurt him, so he just had to relax his muscles and wait for the pleasure to arrive.

Slow and carefully, Louis beings to push inside of him, the thickness making him grasp the sheets again and squeeze them tighter to relieve the invasive discomfort. It wasn't as bad as someone would think, but maybe his occasional use of sex toys had been a great help. If he really fixed on the sensation, it felt like he was being ripped apart, but at the same time he couldn't ignore the pleasurable feeling of fullness. Louis Tomlinson was inside of him.

Holy fuck.

"Are you okay?"

Harry squirms, but that turns out to be a bad idea when he makes Louis' cock move from side to side, exploring areas inside of him he had never felt before. He takes a deep breath before he's able to utter anything.

"Yes." He swallows thick. "Keep going."

Louis underpins his arms on the sides of his head, closely watching his every response as he painstakingly starts thrusting in and out, very minimally gaining speed. With every thrust, Harry begins to feel more comfortable and the pain vanishes, being replaced by the wondrous sensation. So he wraps his legs around Louis to help him go deeper. He wanted him to reach his prostate.

Louis takes that as an indicator to speed up and venture deeper, sinking himself fully inside of him. And, easily as usual, he finds it - that sweet, mind-blowing spot. Harry's mouth pops open as he gasps and swallows at the same time while Louis mercilessly brushes against it.

"Oh my God!" Harry moans out loud, budging up as he feels his body combust underneath him. Louis was like fire, igniting his every part and burning it down over and over again. He could be a bit inexperienced to talk, but it didn't feel like fucking; it felt like making love.

Right when he feels himself getting closer again, Louis slows down his lunges, almost stopping. Harry is finally capable of seeing his every detail again, now that his face barely moved.

"I love you, Harry." Louis says, staring deep into his pine green eyes. For a moment he thinks Louis got lost somewhere inside of them, as he didn't even blink.

Harry's reasoning comes back when he sees Louis's eyelid again and, now that he had all of his attention on him, it was the perfect time for something.

"I love you." He confesses, his voice trembling from the overwhelming moment. They were one, and he couldn't even tell where he ended and Louis began. That type of connection was beyond any reality he ever knew. "I love you so much."

With his words, he finds a grin on Louis' face, his eyes twinkling like a shooting star. He could tell he had been waiting for those three words for long enough, and Harry felt like he could even cry.

Attaching his forehead to Harry's, Louis gets back to his quick thrusts, this time reaching a frantic speed and aiming for his prostate every time.

"Oh God." Harry whimpers when he tries to grind back against Louis, feeling himself at the very edge of losing it. His fingers submerge under his hair, pulling his head closer until his lips touched. He kisses him, desperate and passionately as Louis fucks him so good he feels tears pool in his eyes. And he comes like that.

His mind goes blank for a minute and he thinks he's in trance. He couldn't speak, move or think properly. All he could do was lay in that bliss, breathing as he felt his limbs loosing all of their strength and waiting for his sight to return. But it only does when Louis climaxes.

"Oh!" Louis grunts, making the veins on his neck pop as he spills a big load inside him.

With a sound that erotic, Harry wore he could come again.

"You okay?" Louis asks, panting. He had a thin layer of sweat all over his body and, weirdly, Harry found that incredibly sexy. Maybe because he was the reason for that.

"Never been better." He admits, suddenly coming aware of the stupid smile lingering on his face. But his muscles forced it to stay.

Louis gets out and dramatically falls onto his back on the other side of the bed, pulling him along. Harry rests his head on his warm, bare chest, too exhausted to get himself under the blankets.

"Bless whoever invented anal."

He hears Louis chuckle above him, never seeing a comment like that coming.

"I think it was someone from my family." He replies before kissing his hair.

Harry wouldn't doubt him.

 

 

Chapter Text

n: Early update (just because Back To You still isn't available in my country, otherwise you'd have to wait another week for my recovery)!! Yay!!!!!

Don't I deserve a comment of every single one of you for that? Show some love.  :)

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Everything was bright; too bright. Even with his eyes closed the lighting surrounding him was so intense it momentarily blinded him as he slowly opened them. In that moment he didn't remember where he was and he fleetly sits up, feeling himself starting to panic. And then he recalls, while his heart beats from his throat, that aesthetic, modern bedroom where he lost his virginity the previous night.The sheets beside him were crumpled at the end of the bed, but Louis was nowhere to be found.

Should I wait for him here? Should I go search for him? Jeez, I really need to wee.

He uncovers his naked body - which he knew he didn't put under the sheets last night - and his stomach grumbles, obviously displeased he hadn't fed himself anything in a good amount of hours. But he ends up more worried about the time than his meals.

I have to find my phone.

As he stands up to get to his clothes, he comes face to face with the ceiling-height window with the dazzling view to the backyard, which now he could see held a broad rectangular swimming pool circled by a couple of white rattan sun loungers.

Oh my...

With the heat in the bedroom from the sunny Saturday the temptation to go downstairs and jump into that fresh water was just too much.

Crouching down before his jeans, he picks them up and throws them onto the bed along with his plaid shirt. And then he feels a odd discomfort in his butt. The thought of last night brings a smile to his face, regardless if he wouldn't be able to sit down properly that day. 

There was a message from Liam on his phone and he opens it.

From: Liam

Harry what the fuck? Your mum called me. You told her you slept at my house? If you needed me to cover up for you you should've at least warned me. I don't know if she believed me.

21:42 P.M

Shit. Shit. Triple shit. How could I forgot about that?

He hastily clicks on dial, hoping Liam was awake. It rings two times before he picks up.

"Hello. You sure did got lucky last night." The exaggerated sarcasm in his voice was clear as the daylight.

"Liam. Shit, I'm so sorry. I don't know why but I completely forgot to warn you." He confesses, sitting down at the edge of the bed. "What did you tell her?"

"Your mum is very clever so she called me asking to tell you to be home before five because your sister's going out with her friends and wouldn't be able to pick you up afterwards, and she also asked why you didn't pick up your phone. I was completely clueless Harry!"

"Fuck. What did you tell her?"

"I told her you were in the shower. She sounded like she bought that, but I was really hesitant and I didn't know what to say not to get you in trouble, and I think she suspected it."

He takes a deep sigh as he stares at his own bare feet.

"Oh my God, thank you. You saved my life."

"As usual. So are you gonna tell me who is that hot guy who's capable of distracting you to that extent?"

As if by cue, the door of the bedroom opens and a shirtless Louis with damp hair and a towel wrapped around his waist walks in.

Oh Lord...

Blue eyes burned their way across the bedroom and his skin looking even more tanned in contrast with such perfect white. Louis was a gift sent from heaven, it could only be.

That man had sex with me last night. Fact. Let that one sink in...

Everything going on in his life froze in that moment. There were droplets falling from his messy shower hair down to his shoulders and back, and Harry wanted to clean them away. Either with his fingers or his mouth, he just wanted that barrier gone. He had shaved too, which made him look like a walking top model.

Louis throws his a subtle smile and he immediately snaps into reality.

"I can't right now." He says on the phone.

"Harry..."

"I'll tell you about everything later, okay? I promise." He says, not very convincingly because he didn't know if he should let him know about him and Louis yet.

"Okay, bye."

"I love you. Bye." He hangs up before Louis is standing before him, but, thankfully, he remembers to check the time before locking his phone. It was eleven already.

Holy shit, why didn't he wake me up?

"Good morning, Sleepyhead." Louis says as he stares at him.

Suddenly, he feels an urge to cover himself with something. It was strange being fully naked in front of Louis in his house like he lived there too, no matter how many times he had seen him in the nude before. And their cheeks knew that, so their first instinct was to become crimson red as if he had been caught doing something bad.

"Morning." He says, his voice the usual post-sleep low and groggy. But he just couldn't move below Louis' gaze.

I need water too.

"Did you sleep well?" Louis asks as he finger-combs the front strands of his hair back.

"Yes." He nods self-effacingly. "Your bed is very comfortable. Sorry for sleeping until so late."

Finally, Louis decides to lean forward and kisses him soft and for a shorter period of time than what Harry was craving. He smelled of aftershave - fresh and manly as usual - but Harry never needed to use it in his life.

"It's fine. You were tired." He whispers against Harry's mouth before he's turning his back and walking to his dresser. He opens the second drawer, taking out a pair of hip briefs and closes it. But, before he can do his next move, his towel decides to fall onto the floor. And then they were both fully naked in the same room for the second time.

Harry could only stare at his gorgeous exposed behind. Those perfect perky cheeks did things to him he never thought any ass could. But then again, Louis's ass wasn't "any ass"; it was The Ass. With the amount of money he had it was a shame not to have it insured, because who would dare ever touch something as fine as that? 

Louis is quick to cover himself again with the towel, making him feel ridiculous for his inappropriate thoughts when he turns to face him.

"That wasn't in my plans." Louis tells him with an amused smirk peeking from his lips.

Harry was confused as to what he was doing with a pair of white Calvin Klein's in his hands if he didn't put them on when he was accidentally striped off.

"Wear these." He orders, holding out the briefs for him to take.

What? Why? Does he want to see how they look in me? Is that a fetish of his?

Louis curves his brow at his hesitation.

"Unless you want to wear your dirty panties."

Oh.

"No, not really." He giggles embarrassingly, although it wouldn't be the first time he'd hear dirty underwear. "Thank you."

"The bathroom is the first door on your left. I just got off my shower, so the water must still be hot. Unless you want to use the en-suite."

Deep down he wishes he hadn't so they could shower together. That would be like winning the lottery, but it would be impossible because he already won it when he met him. Still it was too much to ask of his first time visiting Louis Tomlinson's house. Soon enough he would find out just how his bathroom looked and the picture in his mind of him showering would become more realistic than it ever was.

"How long are you up?" The curious side of him comes out, yet it was more appropriate than the dirty one.

"Since nine. I went for quick run. I didn't want to wake you, so I used the public bathroom instead."

He feels the insides of his body warm up and curl in a ball of tenderness and love.

"You always wake up early?"

"Most of the times, yeah. I like to make my days as productive as I can."

Anne always wanted him to be like that, but she wasn't lucky enough.

"Oh. I don't like getting out of bed so soon."

"But you have to now." Louis reaches his hand out again." Come on, I prepared you a proper breakfast." Hesitantly, Harry takes his hand and he's pulled back onto his two feet. "Go take a shower and meet me downstairs.

Oh, he's cooking for me.

Harry just hoped he remembered he didn't eat meat nor drank regular milk.

Louis moves away and disappears inside an archway next to the main door and another questionable door that he hadn't noticed yet.

Oh, so that door must be the en-suite... Fancy.

So he starts getting gathering his clothes in his curved arm and heads for the door. Curious, he takes a glance at what hid behind the archway and found a big walk-in closet full of dark brown wardrobes and suits.

Whoa...

Just like he expected, the bathroom was all white marble tiles with a few faded grey spripes here and there from the floor to the ceiling, including the furniture. The sun brighted up the room even more through the big window with opaque glass in the back wall which allowed a unfocused view of the desert part of the backyard.

He lays his clothes and the clean pair of underwear Louis lended him over the sink and takes a look at himself in the wide frameless mirror. His hair had never looked worse, completely disheveled and curly. But his face wasn't much better, all pale and swollen, just like his lips. He cringes at the sight, realizing Louis had seen him in that state. He always looked terrible in the morning, but now there was nothing he could do to delete that image from his mind.

He opens the clear glass walls of the shower and jumps right in, being attacked with a sudden stream of cold water.

"Fuck!" He whimpers loudly, backing away until the water starts running hot. He absolutely hated cold showers, even in the Summer.

He stands below the double jets that were on and felt amazing on his back longer than he usually did when he wasn't very sweaty and dirty, allowing some random thoughts into his quiet mind.

What is he making me for breakfast... Some waffles would be great.

When he feels like the water is running for too long, he turns it off and looks for some product to clean his body. It was better if he washed his hair at home with his special shampoo since it wasn't actually oily yet.

He finds a raspberry bath gel at the bottom of the stone shelter. He opens the lid to smell it and it smelled just like Louis - sweet, fresh and delicious.

He squeezes a reasonable amount onto his palm and coats his body in it, from his arms to his feet and washes it off afterwards, recalling Louis all over him the previous night like the falling suds.

Distracted as usual, he realizes he hadn't searched for a towel to clean himself with. But, thanfully, Louis had left him one hanging on a low rack right beside the shower cabinet.

Thank God. The last thing he wanted was to wet the floor.

He cleans himself and folds it in half, throwing it in the laundry basket at the corner and shutting it again.

Then grabs Louis' white briefs and slides them up each one of his legs. It was the most comfortable cotton he'd ever worn. They felt almost as good as his collection of panties, yet they were a size above his and turned out slightly big.

Once he's all dressed up he takes another look in the mirror to examinate his appearence. Most people would think it was because he was vain, but it was actually because he was insecure about himself.

He looked better - casual and put-together - but his hair still needed some work. He searches through the various drawers and finds a black hairbrush and superficially brushes his curls with it until they turn into loose waves. Then he turns the faucet on and wets his fingers, running them through his hair to give it some definition and take as much volume as he can.

Just when he's about to walk out he remember he probably had a terrible morning brush and needed to brush his teeth. But, obviously, he hadn't brought his toothbrush with him.

Maybe he has an extra one unused...

He searches everywhere, but there was only a blue one found on a square, white cup on top of the sink. With a feeling of guilt and mischieviousness, he grabs it and pours a line of toothpast over it. The filaments were still damp, meaning Louis had recently used it. He felt so bad for doing it, but he hoped he wouldn't mind in case he found out. After all, it was preferable than having a bad breath.

He brushes his teeth quickly and puts Louis' toothbrush back in its place once he's finished. Now that his mouth tasted of faint mint, he has a wee, washes his hands with the green, apple-scented soap and heads downstairs.

 

Song: Stargirl - The Weeknd (ft. Lana Del Rey)

He manages to find the kitchen, which was on one of the doors of the entrance hall.

It was just like entering the gates of Heaven. It smelled of fresh-baked dough inside and it reminded him of when he got a part time job at a Bakery last year. Louis had his back turned, preparing something on the island counter in the middle of the white and grey room. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans that fit tight on his wonderful thighs and butt and a simple white t-shirt.

He ends up staring for a while, admiring that fine man making his breakfast. Never in his best dreams he thought this would become a reality for him.

"Harry!" Louis calls out for him, turning his neck towards the door and finding him there. He lets out a small laugh at how he got startled, and Harry laughs back at him. "You scared me."

"Sorry." He mutters, walking up to him.

"It's okay. Your breakfast is ready."

Harry sees a table with a few on-point pancakes pilled over each other with mapple syrup and berries on top and a teacup next to it. Everything looked delightful.

"I didn't know this was an hotel with full-service." He comments, feeling his mouth water at such Instagram-worthy breakfast.

"Are you complaining Mr. Styles?" Louis squints his eyes, his lips slightly pouted as he puts the knife down on the countertop. Harry shakes his head. For some reason he liked when Louis decided to switch to the fifth person and called him "Mr. Styles". It was hot.

"Not at all Mr. Tomlinson. I'm very grateful. Never been treated better actually."

Louis' hands are suddenly on his waist, pulling him up onto one of the bar stools with his regular ease. He was so strong it was actually unbelievable.

"I love taking care of you." Louis hums, eyes fixed on Harry's. And then all the dirty things he wanted Louis to do to him popped up in his mind like a computer with the worst virus.

"You do take such good care of me." Harry bites his lip provocatively, wanting Louis to abuse him on that counter right then and there, despite his stomach being completely empty and crying for substance. Louis was better than the most delicious breakfast in the world.

Slowly, Louis bites his lip, dragging his taste between his teeth to his own mouth.

"You brushed your teeth." That was a statement.

"I searched for a new toothbrush but I didn't find one, so I had to use yours. I'm sorry."

All of a sudden it hit him.

Is he going to punish me for that? Oh my God... Why didn't I think this through?

He instinctively bows his head down, feeling ashamed of it.

"Don't apologize." Louis holds his chin back up with his thumb and leans to whisper onto his hear. That proximity made Harry want him even more, so much his legs spread wider, giving him extra space. "I have to admit I actually like it when you're a bad boy."

He does?

Unexpectedly, Louis captures his earlobe between his teeth. The amount of nerve endings in that tiny area send shivers down his entire body.

"This thing right here," Louis touches a spot in his neck with his finger. It had to be the hickey he made last night. "Is to prove who you belong to."

Oh shit. My mum will kill me if she sees it.

He feels Louis' hot lips wandering over it.

"You're mine, Harry." Louis kisses his neck, his breathing so calm unlike Harry's. "All forever only mine."

Oh God... Take me right here.

Harry wraps his hands around Louis' torso, pulling him even closer.

"Yes. I'm yours." He replies, sure Louis could feel his heart beating against his chest.

"Good." Louis blows out a pleased smile onto his neck." Now eat, baby, before the food gets cold."

With these words, Louis lets go of him and casually sits down on the other stool as if Harry wasn't burning with desire.

Fuck.

Harry takes a deep breath in an attempt to gain back his focus and apetite. But it was hard, just like his dick.

He grabs the fork and knife and cuts a piece of pancake, taking it to his mouth. It was nothing else than what he expected: absolutely scrumptious.

"Hmm... It's incredible." He confesses as he finishes chewing. Louis was observing him from the stool beside his, eyes switching between his lips, eyes and the squared plate.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?"

That question was unexpected to say the least.

"Well, I'm probably gonna try and focus on schoolwork. I have a lot of studying to do, and my finals are right around the corner."

Louis nods silently, and Harry could understand he was thinking of something.

Was he planning on doing some activity with me? 

But he remains quiet, so Harry goes for a sip of his herbal tea. In the label was written "Green & Mint" and, even though he was a big fan of tea, he had never tried that mix. But in that morning he did and fell in love. It was mildly hot, with some added sweetness, but not too much - just how he liked it.

"What about today?" Louis asks, his eyes lost on Harry's hands while he drank his tea.

Well I kind of have a few videos to film and a TV show to catch up with, but I'd rather spend it with you.

Harry rests his teacup down, earning Louis' stare on his face.

"I don't know, to be honest."

"Would you like to stay?"

Shit. Don't be so eager, don't be so eager...

"Yes."

He pretends to have answered so quickly to keep on devouring his glistening pancakes, but it wasn't true. Louis had just invited him to spend the day with him at his house, how could he not be excited? 

"Okay. Do you have anything in mind?"

The possibilities were endless, in fact. They could go watch something on the TV and chill, play with Emma, go swimming on his incredible pool that he was dying to dive in, go upstairs...

The perfect activity comes into his mind when he finishes his breakfast.

"I want you to show me your playroom."

Louis' eyes widen at his unexpected words. The surprise emerging on his face was palpable.

"You want to see my playroom?" Louis asks, as, inevitably, a wicked smile slowly begins to flower on his mouth.

"Yes."

"Right now?" Louis shoots an eyebrow upwards, his bony fingers becoming uneasy over the counter.

"Right now."

 

 

****************

Chapter Text

 

 

                                                                       

 

 

Louis takes him upstairs, securing his hand in a safe, not-too-tight grip. They travel through the hallway and intersect on the opposite branch to his bedroom and the bathroom. There were a few doors along the way but a specific one stood out to him. It had a small, steel safe box sustained on the wall right next to the tall door.

Louis lets go of his hand to insert the security digits and open it. Through the corner of his eye, Harry saw a silver key - longer than the standard - was the only thing kept locked inside of it. Louis grabs it and shuts the safe box again. And it made sense. If someone who didn't know about that part of him, accidentally or by curiosity, happened to open that door they'd never look at him the same way.

"You're aware of what's waiting behind this door, aren't you?" Louis says, jiggling the key on his hands, but his eyes could pierce his like a cannonball.

"Mhm."

Taking Harry's hand again, Louis inserts the key on the lock, but doesn't turn it.

"Okay. Ready?" He asks and waits for Harry's permission.

Harry could only resume his words to little nods of certainty, such the mix of emotions. He was a bit scared, he wouldn't lie, of the possibility of finding some disturbed things in there. But, above it all, there was the thrill of finally going to see Louis' playroom and he couldn't get away from that.

"Harry, I need your spoken consent." Louis says in a tone verging admonishing.

Nervous, Harry intertwines his fingers on Louis', and suddenly he feels steady again.

"I'm ready."

Louis unlocks the door and takes a step back as he lets go of his hand, allowing him to go first. Sighing, Harry walks in and the dim, warm lights of the room light up in a careful apology. It smelled of an old, woody, fresh fragrance with a faded hint of vanilla and...

God.

The playroom was insanely bigger than he would ever expect.

Everything was red and black, completely opposite to the rest of the house, which brought a sensation that that room was a portal to some other universe. The blood-colored wood panel walls where the lights and a few chains, whips and leashes hung on fixtures surrounded a dark metal-framed king size bed, wooden furniture and the most intriguing amount of sex objects he'd ever laid his eyes on.

The first thing he notices is a sex swing made of black leather attached to the ceiling in the corner at the very middle of the room, and behind it was the huge bed with only a red leather mattres. On the wall beside it was a St. Anthony's cross with hand and leg cuffs on each of its boards. He turns his head and finds a medium-sized iron cage - who seemed like it was destined for animals - at the furthest left corner near a steel table and a black stuffed spanking bench with buckles for the legs and torso, just like the chair next to him. Everything looked like it would inflict much more pain than pleasure, as if it was the Inquisition times.

When he comes back to the real world, still trying to process what was before him, he senses Louis beside him.

"Please say something." Louis begs, his strong voice making him tremble. But he can't seem to look at him, his eyes still lost amid all of that kinkiness.

"I... I don't even know what to say."

He feels Louis' fingers caressing his hand and he doesn't hesitate on grabbing it.

"Are you scared?"

He was very intrigued and apprehensive of which things Louis would want to use on him and how much pain they could cause him. But, actually, he wasn't scared anymore.

"No." He tells him and glances at his gorgeous face, finally free from the sight before him. Louis gives him a small smile as his thumb reassuringly rubs against his skin.

"Come."

Louis closes the door behind them and leads him to the right flank of the playroom, where the walls where filled with aligned Victorian wooden cabinets with a touch of Ghotic to them. Most of the furniture in there seemed like they came from another century.

"What do you keep inside of these?" He asks, pointing at the many drawers of the first cabinet.

"A little bit of everything. Lube, condoms, vibrators, cock rings, paddles, blindfolds, gags, ..."

Jesus... I wonder how many of each must be in there. Probably the same amount a sex shop would have.

"In all of these drawers?" He can't help but widen his eyes as he glances at the nearly forty drawers before him.

"Yes." Louis nods, studying his face attentively. "Do you want to see them?"

Well, there's only one way to find out.

"Yes."

Wrapping the fingers of his both hands around the iron handles of two of the drawers, Louis pulls them open. He leans back and Harry takes a snoop.

Inside one were found nearly twenty vibrators in different sizes and colors lying over the red velvet bottom of the drawer. Some of them were a light to tanned-skin tone, others different shades of silver, golden and blue. Their girths varied as well - there were slightly thinner ones and a few who were abnormally thick and ranged from eight to ten inches. If he was correct, that was Louis' cock size.

Harry takes a deep breath and stares at the other open drawer. This was filled with lined up handcuffs, some made of metal and bigger ones made of black and red leather with fur inside. Somehow, he feels drawn to them and reaches out to touch one of them.

"Is this real leather?" He asks Louis, turning his head up to face him.

"It's not." Louis shakes his head. "All items are made of faux leather, don't worry."

That's nice. Faux leather is usually more expensive. But that doesn't seem to be an issue for him.

It indeed felt like a playroom in there. He could pick whatever objects he wanted to play with and create a different game with them whenever and anywhere he wanted. And sex games were always much more exciting.

"I think I'm gonna take these." Harry says as he grabs the black, faux leather handcuffs. They were not only big, but heavy, and perfectly contrasted with the pale color of his skin.

He sees Louis' lips part as he stares at his momentary peek of confidence. Although he was usually shy and insecure, when it came to sex it felt like that significant side of him never existed.

"What are you doing?" Louis drawls out, low, raspy voice slightly echoing inside those four walls.

"Well, isn't this a playroom? Then I want to play."

Louis lets him take the cuffs and shuts the drawers back closed before following where he was heading.

As he looks more observantly to the details of the room, Harry glances up at the ceiling covered with tiny round lights and finds a golden board with several holes attached to it, which had an eye hook in the middle and two red handcuffs similar to the ones he had on hand at the edges.

"What is this?"

Louis approaches him and stands behind him, his mouth suddenly against his ear.

"It's exactly for what you have in your hand." He whispers, and it's so seductive Harry feels the blood on his veins heat up his entire body. "Stay here and put your arms up."

Not knowing what to do with the handcuffs, Harry chucks them onto the floor and raises his arms as he was asked.

Strolling back to the cabinets, Louis opens a minor compartment on the side of the last one and takes out a small remote. He presses one button and, suddenly, the structure above him starts moving down towards him, diagonally. The hook is almost touching his fingertips when Louis presses the remote button and it stops.

"You want to know a secret?" Louis asks when he walks up to a stretched Harry who was longing for his touch.

"Yes."

Who wouldn't want to know what's going on inside his mind?

Louis crouches down before him and picks the handcuffs up from the floor. And he looks up at him.

"I've been waiting for this day for so long."

Harry feels his teeth pull at his own lip, his arms starting to feel tired of being in that position. But he wouldn't disobey Louis in there.

"And now you're here." Louis says, standing up until they're face to face again. "And you're all mine."

Harry knew he was going to kiss him, so he closes his eyes and puckers up his lips slightly, waiting for his mouth to take over his. But he's betrayed by his incorrect assumptions when, out of the blue, the handcuffs are fixed onto the hook and his wrists are stuck inside them. If the board was just a centimeter upwards, he'd be hanging in the air.

He hears Louis let out a quiet giggle when he abruptly opens his eyes, startled.

Fuck.

"Sweet Harry," Louis traces his thumb across his lower lip that he had previously bitten. "This might be a playroom, but I don't play around here."

Harry closes his mouth when Louis' hands fall down to his white shirt and swallows thickly as he pulls it over his head, making his hair slightly messy. He drops his shirt onto the floor, revealing his beautiful, tanned torso. Harry wanted to kiss and leave his mark all over it.

"You remember the rules, right?"

Honestly I can't remember every single thing. It was too much to memorize from just one read.

"Yes." He answers, thinking that was what Louis wanted to hear.

Louis stares at him, squinted eyes and an expectant smile as his fingers very-distractingly fiddle with the zipper of his dark blue jeans. But, eventually, his smile dies down.

"Yes, what?"

Oh shit.

"Yes, Sir." He rushes, feeling his cheeks turn red with embarrassment.

He's going to punish me now. Dammit. I'm never going to be a good Submissive.

Louis pulls his zipper down, eyes on him.

"Good boy."

Wait, what?

"You're not going to punish me?" He can't help asking.

"Harry, this is your first time here. And obviously I'm not expecting you to know all the rules already. I was just testing you."

Louis slips his jeans down his legs with a smirk playing on his lips. When they pool at his feet, he kicks them away. Harry gasps at the act, thinking those single pair of jeans probably cost more than his entire outfit. He had never seen someone look this handsome with only his jeans on, which hung low on his hips and almost revealed where his happy-trail ended.

"But you lied to me. And that is not polite."

So, he's going to punish me. Shit.

Song: High for This - The Weeknd

Keeping only his black Calvin Klein boxers on, Louis takes a step towards him, killing the small distance between them. His fingers promptly start unbuttoning his pink plaid shirt all the way down, exposing his fair torso. His skin in that area seemed like it had never catched a ray of sunlight in its life.

The cold air of the room hits his warm skin, making him shiver. But Louis doesn't seem to notice, focused on bowing his head to lick his left nipple.

"Hmm..." He grunts as Louis' tongue circles around that extta sensitive spot, his chest rising up and down as he feels deprived of all control.

"Shh." Louis hushes him, staring up from under his eyelashes. It was too much to take and he wasn't even naked yet. "Or I'll have to gag you."

God no.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Pleased, Louis offers him a smile before switching to his other nipple. This time he not only licks all over it, but sucks as if he could obtain milk out of them.

Harry feels his member twitch in his pants, begging for release. If Louis kept torturing him like that he wouldn't last very long.

He watches as Louis' tongue falls from his nipple anid runs all the way down his chest to his tummy, slow and erotically. Harry arches his back in a mix of pleasure and frustration. He really wanted to wrap his arms around his neck and touch, or maybe even pull, his hair.

Louis stops just where his naked torso ended and his jeans began.

"I barely even started and you're already writhing."

Harry wanted to complain but he knew he better stay quiet and go through his punishment like a good Sumissive.

"And hard." Louis adds, gazing at his member bulging out from under his jeans.

Harry wanted him to fuck him already and quit the foreplay - or punishment, as he was calling it -, but he had a feeling it wouldn't end so soon.

Back on his feet, Louis grips his shirt at the collar and, suddenly, it's ripped in half.

Oh my.

"I hope that wasn't your favorite." Louis says as he throws the two pieces of flannel onto the floor. Nobody had ever ripped his clothes and, even though he was sure his mom would ask about it, he didn't care from how sexy Louis made it.

How does one rip a flannel in half this easily?

With the same speed, Louis undoes the button of his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. He takes his white converse off and leaves them next to his shoes and clothes on the floor. And now Harry was just like him: only wearing his Calvin Klein underwear.

Without saying a word, Louis walks away, heading to the wall on their left which had a variety of whips, belts, riding crops and floggers hung on. Harry watches him contemplating all of them, hesitating on which one he was going to pick for his punishment. He ends up taking a black leather riding crop and walks back to him, securing it on hand.

"I'm going to hit you with this a seven times and I want you to remember your safewords." He says, running the metal edge over his chest. It was cold. "If it gets too hard on you, don't hesitate."

Seven times? Holy shit.

"Yes, Sir." Harry mutters, slightly arching his back to get away from the shivers that it was causing him.

Louis circles him and Harry hears him stop behind him. Unexpextedly, the crop hits against his butt with mild force, making it impossible for him to hold back his whimper. It didn't feel as bad as he first thought it would, just a temporary stinging senstion on his skin. The anticipation was worse.

"I said quiet."

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to gain control over himself.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

But his apology was useless, as Louis hits him one more time on his other covered cheek. And then he pulls his briefs down, completely exposing his ass. He strikes two times between his cheeks and Harry has to bite his lip not to let another whimper out. It was an odd mix of pain, from the stroke, and pleasure, by the way his skin inflamed in such sensitive areas.

Louis moves back to his front. The metal touches the skin of his torso again, softer this time to the point it ticked him. Harry jerks backwards and writhes from side to side, his head threatening to drop back.

"Please, Sir." He begs, disguising a moan when the crop reaches his crotch and hits over his member.

"What do you want, baby boy?"

Louis' eyes burned with lust, causing a fire all over his body.

"I want you to fuck me." He admits and, finally, Louis grabs the hem of his briefs and pulls them down at the front, stripping him off. Harry had never felt this vulnerable and powerless before, tied up and fully naked with a painful erection between his legs.

Louis remains strangely quiet as he fixes the riding crop in his hand.

"Spread your legs." He demands after a minute, and Harry is eager to obey. Then he raises the crop again and it lands over one of his balls.

"Sir!" Harry cries out, swinging his body backwards, his hands trying to set himself free from the noisy handcuffs.

And, just as expected, Louis doesn't neglect his other one, hitting it even harder. Harry chokes in a needy whimper.

"So..." Louis drawls out, the crop suddenly running up and down his shaft, "How was your first proper punishment?"

The caress of the metal over his member felt so good Harry just wanted to moan loudly.

"It was," he pauses, swallowing as an attempt to calm himself down, "good."

The crop stops at his leaking head, brushing over and playing with the tip.

"Oh God!" He moans desperately, not being physically capable of holding himself anymore.

"You like this, don't you?" Louis asks, moving the edge faster over the flustered head.

"Yes." Harry says breathlessly.

Louis smirks at him.

"Think I might use this more in the future, then."

His member was already dripping pre-cum against his tummy, and Harry felt like he could come just like that; without even touching himself.

Louis sees him arch his back again and throwing his head back in delight.

"Don't come." Louis orders, still moving the crop around his flustered head. "Unless you no longer want me to fuck you."

No , no , no. Control yourself.

"N-no, Sir." He says, voice low and high-pitched.

The crop returns to fondling the underside of his member, applying even less pressure as if to torture him more with the shivers they caused.

As his head falls back down in complete surrender, he finds Louis hard inside his boxers. Harry instantly wanted to pleasure him, wrap his mouth around his cock and suck it until they're both coming. But, shamefully, Louis doesn't let that happen.

After dropping the crop onto the floor, Louis gets on his knees before him and it immediately hits him. Strangely, it seemed like Louis loved to suck him off more than having himself sucked. But who was Harry to complain?

Louis takes hold of his cock with just one hand and rubs his thumb over his slit.

"My boy's so hard for me." He hums, showing Harry the string of pre-cum bridging from his index to his thumb that he had gathered.

Harry absolutely loved when Louis talked dirty to him. It made his entire body egnite and the heat concentrate in just one place: his cock.

Unrolling his legs, Louis stands up and brings his wet fingers to Harry's mouth.

"See how good you taste?" Louis asks, eyes fixed on his mouth, who sucked hard and eagerly everything Louis had to offer. The taste of his own cum wasn't strange to him; he had tried it a couple of times before, as it was more sweeter than salty. It wasn't gross, unlike the big majority of the guys'.

Song: Hold Your Breath - Ruelle

Louis crouches down again, hands sliding down Harry's sides until he's sat on his own butt, facing his cock. Harry feels his heavy breathing against it and all the tiny hairs on his body become erect as well. With his eyes nearly shutting, he hardly even sees Louis taking his tongue out and, without any warning, starting mirroring the previous movements of the crop, softly licking from the base to the head and insisting on the latter. But he could feel all of it very well.

"Sir, please..." Harry moans, feeling himself way to turned on not to come.

Fuck me, Daddy.

Louis sucks his pink tip hard, swallowing the pre-cum Harry kept on leaking.

"You always taste so sweet." Louis looks up at him with a subtle smirk on his face, knowing Harry was doing everything he could not to come, yet he continued teasing him.

Harry was sure his palms were sweating already, pressing against each other like he was praying. But Louis was the one on his knees, worshipping him.

All of a sudden his cock is being pushed inside Louis' mouth, filling it completely. Harry gasps at the unexpected feeling of tightness around his member, watching as Louis was able to take all of his length in.

"Oh, God, please. Fuck me." Harry cries out, quivering. He was the epitome of defenseless. He was tied up by his hands, at the edge of orgasming, yet Louis told him not to come despite the fact that he kept teasing him and leading him in the opposite direction. 

Realizing Harry wouldn't be able to control his orgasm any longer, Louis removes his mouth off his cock.

"Alright, I'm going to fuck you now, baby."

Louis removes his boxers and pulls him up by his ass. Harry jumps onto his lap, lifting his legs carefully.

"Wrap your legs around me."

Harry obeys in the second, holding Louis close to him by his hips. Since he was secured by the handcuffs, Louis had more freedom of movement for he didn't have to hold him in place.

Harry could feel their hard members pressing against each other, so he grinds on Louis to relieve some of the aching feeling.

"Hey!" Louis scolds, quickly holding his bustling hips in place. "None of that."

Nodding, Harry bites his lip and watches Louis slide his hand inside the front pocket of his jeans and taking out a foil packet.

Oh. So he knew we were going to be doing this all along?

Leaning back, Louis opens the packet and envelopes the transparent condom on his cock. He has to ask Harry to spread his legs wider again, as the boy just couldn't stay still, before he's brushing the head of his cock against his entrance. Harry could feel the thin layer of lube settling on his rim.

Holding him by his waist, Louis begins pushing his cock inside him slowly, taking in account that he was just naturally tight, regardless of how many times he'd played with himself before. 

"Relax." Louis asks and, with one swift movement, he's engulfed by Harry's rigid walls.

"Oh, fuck!" Harry yelps, feeling Louis stretch him out as far as he could get. He gives it his all not to clench his muscles and keep himself open for Louis, but he was just too thick and it wasn't fair that he couldn't at least hold onto him when he was fucking him.

Louis starts thrusting up, not giving time for Harry to get used to the feeling of him deep inside his body. He fists a handful of his curls and pulls his head against his, restraining Harry from dropping it backwards.

"God, Harry. You feel even better than I remembered."

Harry lets out a moan of pleasure when all the discomfort goes away. Louis speeds up at his approval, fucking him senseless. So he grasps his legs tighter around Louis, making him go even deeper. And that's when he feels like he's convulsing, his body suddenly deprived of all strenght as Louis insatiably hits against his prostate.

"Oh, fuck! Sir, I-I'm-"

Raising on hand to his cheek, Louis kisses him hard, as if telling him he could come now. And so he does, lips pressed against Louis' while he fucked the orgasm out of him.

"Mmm Louis!" He moans onto his mouth, feeling Louis spill inside him with just two more thrusts.

"God, Harry... You're so tight." Louis grunts, hands on his trembling thighs.

He remains inside of Harry, waiting for him to catch his breath.

No wonder he was the best sexologist in the country. If anyone had had the luck to have sex with him they wouldn't think twice about giving him that title.

Louis unhooks his handcuffs and he collapses over him, arms around his neck. He felt exhausted, and Louis noticed it.

Now he was dirty and sweaty again, just like the once clean pair of underwear Louis gave him that morning, and he needed another shower. Not to mention his shirt was ruined and he had nothing else to wear.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just feel really filthy." He says, resting his head on the crook of his neck. His skin was warm as usual and he kisses it.

"I'll run us a bath." Louis says, carrying him out of the room. That wasn't a question. "Don't want you showing up home like this."

Me neither.

 

 

Song: Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia (Hope cover)

Back to his room, Louis takes him to his en-suite and places him on the sink as he runs the water. He hisses when his cheeks sit on the cold marble, but Louis doesn't seem hear him.

The decoration was similar to the public bathroom - all white and sophisticated. But bigger and he had a round white furry rug that seemed tremendously soft to the touch between the sink and the sink-shaped marble bathtub.

He watches Louis lean foward to test the water, the muscles of his marvelous naked body contracting. But his eyes always ended up in his bubble butt, which was obscenely exhibited in front of him, and he drools at the sight.

"Do you like it warm or hot?" Louis asks, turning to glance at him.

"Hot."

Very hot.

Louis runs his fingers through the water of the nearly full tub again. Harry was amazed by how fast it filled up.

"Then I think it's perfect."

Louis turns around, giving him a 365° view of his bare sillouette illuminated by the clear daylight just like his perfectly dishelved hair.

I do too.

Walking back to him, Louis positions himself between his legs and pulls him up onto his lap with ease. Harry was starting to get used to be in that position, and he liked it. Carefully, Louis drops him on the floor before the tub and jumps inside.

Harry had never took a bath with anyone else before and, in all honesty, it felt a bit weird for him. The mixture of body fluids in the same, stationary water that was once clean. But, above all, he was afraid of being so close to Louis non-sexually. He didn't mind being naked in front of him if they were going to have sex, but if they weren't he didn't see the point. Plus, knowing himself, he'd probably get turned on for the second time that morning just by touching his naked body.

"Come in." Louis asks, laying on the stern of the tub. And he was just so inviting.

"I... I don't think this is a good idea." He says, standing right were Louis left him.

Louis frowns, sitting straight.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I have to be home soon and, if we procede, I know where things are going to end up and I-"

"Harry, nothing you don't want to is going to happen." Louis reassures him. "I promise you: we're just going to get cleaned, so that I can leave you home looking decent."

Harry hated the way he was from the bottom of his heart. He didn't mean to be so sexual, to be turned on so easily. But there was nothing he could do to control it, but stay away from the things that awakened his sexual apetite. Yet those were the things he craved and loved the most - like Louis.

"Okay." He agrees, promising himself he will not think about sex or how amazing Louis' body makes him feel. Just his personal hygiene. He had to learn how to control himself, despite how hard it was.

Diving his feet in one by one, he feels the pleasant hot water against his skin, calming his sudden rush of anxiety. He sits down in the middle of the tub and Louis grabs his waist, pulling him against his chest. Harry lays there as Louis gathers some water on his palm and pours it over his arm.

"You trust me, don't you, Harry?"

Harry turns his head up, trying to look him in the eyes, but it turned out to be impossible from the height difference.

"Of course I do."

"Then what's the problem? Don't you like being in my house, is that it?"

"No." He desperately shakes his head. "I love it, a lot. I just... hate that I'm always thinking of and wanting sex. It's not fair for you, either. I wanna have long conversations with you, do everything couples do, but it never leaves my mind how much I want your touch."

Suddenly, he feels his hand on his hair, fingers tangling on his loose curls.

"Harry, I love you just the way you are, with all your issues and insecurities. And if you weren't like that, we probably wouldn't have met." Louis pauses to kiss the top of his head and Harry feels so calm he could close his eyes and fall asleep in his arms. He was blessed to have gotten the chance to meet him. "I understand you feel like that, but we're the way we are and we work perfectly like this. I love touching you, too. We don't need to be like everyone else."

"You're right."

He finds Louis' hand underwater and holds it against his chest. He always knew what to say to ease him.

"Now since we're in the spirit of conversation, why don't you ask me what you want to know?"

A question pops up in his head without much thought.

"How long do you live here by yourself?"

"For six years."

That's sad; living in such a big, lonely house since his twenty-four years.

"You never had someone move in with you?" He has to ask, even if the answer could be a mood killer.

"I had." He hears Louis sigh from behind him, disappointment pouring out into the air. "But it didn't end well."

Harry leaves a kiss over his knuckles in an act of consolation.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. I hurt her."

Oh. He's bi? I have to stop assuming people's sexualities.

"Would you ever hurt me like you hurt her?" He asks, tightening his grip on Louis' hand. It was obviously a topic he wanted to avoid, so Harry doesn't dare asking for details. He didn't deserve to recall the pain again. Not when he had someone with him, giving him all of his love. But, yet. he wondered if the type of pain was mostly physical or emotional.

"I don't know. I promised I wouldn't hurt her, and I did. So there's no certainty I won't do it again. I'm sorry. I know this isn't what you wanted to hear."

Tired of looking at silent white walls, Harry lowers his gaze to the water and their bodies hiding underneath.

"I'm glad you were honest with me."

"But, hey." Louis rests his head on his shoulder, speaking right to his ear. And it tickles him. "I will do everything in my power not to repeat my mistakes."

Harry lets out a small giggle, feeling Louis tenderly kiss his neck.

"I'll try not to fuck up too."

He jerks forward when, out of nothing, the skin of his still aching butt is pinched.

"Ouch!" He yells, looking back at Louis who, through the corner of his eye, had his eyes squinted.

"You're arse is still sore, isn't it?"

Harry nods, cheeks turning red.

"How many times do I have to tell you good boys are polite, hun?" Louis asks and Harry senses a trace of amusement in his voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Okay." He brings him back close to his body. "Now let's clean you up."

 

 

When he walks inside his house he's wearing one of Louis' casual flannel shirts, in blue and yellow.  He was limping, and it suddenly made sense why Louis insisted on carrying him around earlier.

His sister is nowhere to be found - thankfully -, so he climbs up the stairs to go hide in his room. Somehow, Louis' usual fragrance was impregnated in the fabric and he had to change as soon as possible.

He turns right in the hallway, heading for his room, but he bumps with Gemma getting out of her bedroom in a black dress and a messy bun.

"Harry. I thought it was you."

"Hi."

She steps forward.

"I see you went shopping. Had fun?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes scan his entire body, as if looking for something that could be wrong. But it could just be for his odd fashion choice.

"You bought a new perfume too." She sniffs the air. "It smells good. Very manly. Can you show me? Michal's birthday is coming up and I still don't know what to get him."

Her eyes land on his bag, hoping he would open it.

"Actually it's not mine. It's Liam's."

"Oh. I see now. You spent the night at Liam's house, you smell different and God knows what happened for you to be wearing his shirt... You're together aren't you?"

What?

"No! Why would you ever think that?"

She cocks her head to the side, shaking it.

"You don't need to hide it from me, little brother. I'm happy for you two. He's been your friend for so long."

"Gemma, you're starting to sound like mum. Me and Liam will never date. We're like brothers." He tells her. "Plus, he's straight and dating a girl from our school."

"Fine." She says, putting a hand on her waist. "Then why are you wearing one of his shirts?"

"Why can't I? I liked it, he liked mine and we switched."

"Well, make sure to take yours back when you're done." She asks. "I'm going out with my friends and I won't be home until late. There's food in the fridge, just heat it up."

"Okay." He says as he smiles to himself, glad he managed to convince her. Now he just needed to be sure his story matched up when he would have to explain himself to him mom.

"If you need anything, just call or text." She kisses his cheek before leaving downstairs with loud high-heels and red lipstick.

Finally in his room, Harry fishes his phone out of his pocket. He had a message from Louis unread.

 

From: Louis

Just wanted to ask if you got home safely. I hope I didn't cause you troubles because of the shirt. 

P.S: Are we okay?

17:28 P.M

 

His heart clenches at the memory of their conversation in the bathtub earlier. That story of Louis being with a woman and ending up hurting her wouldn't leave his mind for at least two weeks.

 

To: Louis

I did. Everything turned out okay, don't worry.

P.S: Yes. I love you.

17:30 P.M

 

 

Chapter Text

 

Surprisingly, Monday arrives in the blink of an eye, given the fact that he spent his entire Sunday locked in his room with books and paper sheets all over his bed.

As he very dramatically crawls out of bed to shut the annoyingly impatient alarm that kept reminding him he'd woken up at six A.M, he makes a note in his head that he needed to find a tutor until the end of the week, otherwise he'd fail at Maths - and that was out of chance.

There was a message from Louis on his phone, which makes him 100% awake as curiosity tingles on his skin.

 

From: Louis

Good morning, baby. Hope you slept well.

06:04 A.M

 

A smile takes over his lips as he stares at the screen of his phone, sitting at the edge of his bed. That message had just made a miracle happen, because to that day no one had ever found him smiling on a Monday at six in the morning.

 

To: Louis

Good morning.

I slept like a rock after studying my ass off yesterday. What about you?

06:05 A.M

 

As he waits for Louis' reply, he begins getting ready. He walks over to his wardrobe and lazily picks his outfit. A pair of textured jeans, a thin, cotton baby blue long-sleeve and matching high-tops converse would have to work.

His phone buzzes on his bed when he's trying to squeeze into his jeans. They were a size smaller than what he wore now, but still managed to fit him, so why throw them away? He tumbles over his feet to try and grab his phone.

 

From: Louis

I'm pleased to hear you've been working hard on school. But I don't want you exhausting your beautiful bum like that. That's my duty.

I slept really nice. Would've slept better if you were here.

06:08 A.M

 

Harry feels himself blush at the compliment.

I wish I could've spent the night with you, too.

 

To: Louis

I think you're wrong. If I was there you probably wouldn't have slept more than four hours ;)

P.S: At least studying doesn't make my bum sting.

06:09 A.M

 

His reply arrives in the second he buttons his jeans.

 

From: Louis

Neither would have you ;)

P.S: It doesn't make you come either.

06:10 A.M

 

He bites his lips, the smile still on his face from recalling his memorable Friday night when they slept together in Louis' bed. And he could imagine him now, sitting on his kitchen stool with his suit on as he drank a cup of coffee - or tried to, at least.

 

To: Louis

I'm thinking it was to no use waking up at six in the morning to be at school earlier, because this conversation is making me want to do things that I shouldn't be doing right now.

06:11 A.M

 

Harry takes his oversized pajama shirt off and slips his long-sleeve shirt on. His phone buzzes again.

 

From: Louis

Hmm. Like what?

06:11 A.M

 

The 'Hmm'... He knows damn well.

 

To: Louis

Like play with myself.

06:12 A.M

 

Harry doesn't even get to drop his phone to keep getting dressed, for Louis' message comes in a matter of seconds.

Fast replier. I like that.

 

From: Louis

How exactly?

06:12 A.M

 

Well, wouldn't you like to know...

 

To: Louis

With my face down on the pillow and my fingers inside of me. But I already know they'd feel nothing like yours.

06:13 A.M

 

The scene plays in his head and he feels a twitch in his pants. No. I will not touch myself. He tries focusing on the new message on his phone to keep himself distracted from the sudden urge.

 

From: Louis

Why don't you hold onto that and come meet me at work tomorrow after school? Are you free?

06:14 A.M

 

To: Louis

I am, if I don't find myself a tutor who's willing to start ASAP. But I'm starting to think we've been seeing each other in your office quite a lot. Plus, I doubt keep pillows there.

P.S: Are you available to see me?

06:15 A.M

 

From: Louis

A tutor? I thought I was your tutor...

Where do you suggest us meeting, then?

P.S: I'm always available for you.

06:16 A.M

 

A mixture of a content and mischievous grin appears on his face, but he waits a moment before he types his reply for that terrible innuendo.

 

To: Louis

An hotel, perhaps...

06:18 A.M

 

He gets his converse from the floor and sits back on his bed to put them on. And, as he does, he notices the Umbro flannel shirt Louis had borrowed him hung on the back of his chair. I probably should give it back to him. Not that he's exasperatedly in need of it, given the size of his closet.

 

From: Louis

There's plenty of hotels in London. Why don't you pick the one you want and I'll make the reservation?

I have to hurry now. I have an appointment at seven.

06:20 A.M

 

To: Louis

Okay, deal. Good luck at work.

Can't wait to see you.

Love you xx

P.S: I have your shirt. Should I bring it with me?

06:21 A.M

 

He crosses his legs, patiently waiting for the sweetest answer he never saw coming:

 

From: Louis

See you later, baby boy.

I love you.

P.S: If you want to. If you like it you can keep it. It looks lovely on you.

06:22 P.M

 

Smiling down at the floor like a fool in love, he throws his phone back on the bed. And now he was torn. He really, really loved the idea of keeping one of Louis' shirts for him as a reminder of his love, smell and the great time they had together. But, in the other hand, he felt bad for keeping it to himself when Louis had paid for the shirt and, by the looks of it, it wasn't cheap.

Fuck. What do I do?

In the back of his mind he could see a vision of himself, swimming on the loose flannel shirt with only a pair of panties on as he curled in his bed, wishing Louis was there. And, in that moment, e realizes he had already decided what he'd do with it.

He checks himself in the mirror of his bathroom after washing his face. And, only then, he realizes the mark on his neck hadn't gone away yet - and he needed something to cover it. So he has the genius idea of sneaking into his sister's bedroom and borrow one of her many scarves.

Gemma had left for college already, this way he would have the freedom to snoop on her closet for the perfect scarf. Just like him with panties, she had a Summer through Winter collection of dozens of scarves, of any print and texture imaginable. He browses through the wooden hangers for a moment and ends up finding a silk white one, which was the only one that could work with his chosen outfit. Sure he'd look ridiculous wearing it, as it wasn't really his style and made him look way too feminine, but it'd have to do. It was better than showing the world how he and his partner enjoyed rough sex.

 

                                                                           

    

 

He finds his mom downstairs, having her morning cup of tea before having to leave for work. She had half of her hair pinned back and her black suit pants and blazer on.

"Morning." He mutters, limping his way to the cabinet.

I really have to come up with a reason for that, except the fact that my boyfriend - and former sexologist - completely wrecked me Friday through Saturday, and one time I was hung up like an animal in his playroom full of whips and chains and cages...

"... my love?"

"What?" He snaps to reality, glancing back at his mom, who looked rather concerned.

"What happened to you, love?"

"Oh. Yeah..." He looks at his legs before finding her green eyes - which people said they were exactly the same as his. Well, in his honest opinion, his were more of a emerald tone and hers nearly hazel, but he wouldn't argue over something that irrelevant. It wasn't like he had the rarest, most beautiful eyes in the world anyway. "I pulled a muscle during P.E."

"Where? How?" Her brows furrow and he could anticipate her standing up.

"In my bum." He says, opening the cabinet and taking out a glass. "I fell badly while doing gymnastics and I guess I hadn't warmed up enough."

She drops her mug in the sink. Her eyes are suddenly scanning his body from head to toe, and he can tell she noticed him wearing one of Gemma's scarves. But, yet - and thankfully -, she doesn't bring it up.

"Have you put ice on it?"

He dodges her inquisitive stare as he fills his glass with water. But, sadly, the process doesn't last long.

"I have."

He sees her lean against the counter as he gets his bowl of oatmeal from the fridge and adds a cup of almond milk.

"You probably shouldn't go to school today. Stay home and get some rest."

"It's fine, really. It happened three days ago. It's not a big deal. Plus, I can't skip classes like this when my A-levels are in two months."

He grabs a spoon and sits down on a chair.

"I know, darling. But I just want your well-being."

 "I'm feeling much better, mum. Don't worry." He casually says, giving her a quick smile. And her concerned expression dies down with that.

"Okay. I have to go now." She walks up to him and kisses the top of his head, before he's able to take the first spoonful to his mouth. "If you feel worse don't hesitate on coming home. I have a trial today, so it's very likely I won't be able to answer any calls."

"Will do, mum." He nods. "Good luck."

"Thank you. Bye-bye, Harry."

In a matter of seven minutes he manages to eat his breakfast and runs for the school bus.

 

Like any other weekday, he hops off the bus and finds Liam in front of the gates, a coffee on each hand, waiting for him. Liam was just another morning person,  who loved going to bed and waking up early. Him, otherwise, was a night owl, and he was completely fine with that. As people like Liam and and Louis found the early sunrise motivating, he found the starry sky inspiring and he could work much better at that time. In the mornings, he couldn't function properly.

"Nice scarf." Is the first thing Liam says when he approaches him. "I wonder if there's a reason for that."

"Who knows..." He says, a smile annoyingly setting on his lips.

"Jesus, Harry... You're glowing!"

Liam reaches out his right hand and Harry holds what he was sure it was his sugary black coffee. He runs for a sip to try and take that ridiculous smile off his face.

"Thank you."

"You can thank me by telling me everything that happened on Friday." Liam wiggles his eyebrows, eyes never leaving him.

"I will, just stop with that."

Liam gives him one of his dirty giggles and this time the bell comes to shush him.

"During break?"

Harry rolls his eyes, but agrees.

"During break."

 

They leave school on lunch break, so that they wouldn't have the risk of being heard by other students. Harry knew how fast news flew around. Their choice was House of Sand & Wishes - a sandwich restaurant Liam promised had the freshest bread - and he knew how Harry loved his bread. People seemed to agree, as they had to wait for nearly fifteen minutes in line before they could order. Liam opted for the most English sandwich they had - layers of bacon, scrambled eggs, ham and cheese -, while he went for the one which ingredients seemed to taste the best together - soy meatballs, peppers and lettuce.

With their trays on hand, they walk outside and sit on one of the round tables next to the big window. There was no one eating there but the two of them.

"One day I will turn you a vegetarian." Harry says, sitting down on the metal chair with the view to the road.

"Someone's determined." Liam chuckles, taking the chair right in front of him. "So, now that we're alone, you can start spilling out. Who's the mysterious catch?"

Harry brings his chair closer to the table.

"Okay, I'll tell you. But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone." His eyes widen, showing how serious he was. "Anyone. You're the first person I'm trusting with this."

And he knew Liam wouldn't expect any less.

"My lips are sealed."

Harry takes a deep breath and goes for a sip of his water before the big reveal.

Okay, I can do this.

"It's... him."

"Him?..." And then Harry saw it clicking on him. "Oh. Him... Your-"

"Uh-uh." He nods frantically. All he could do now was hope Liam would understand his situation and not get mad at him.

"So you lied to me."

"Liam, I had to. He's much older than me, and I just..." Harry's eyes shut involuntarily for a second, until he has the mental strength to open them again. "Couldn't risk losing him."

"But you're underage, Harry. You know how these things work: Any slip and he can spend years in jail." Liam says, all rational. "And let's not forget your mum's a lawyer."

Harry could feel the ground beneath him shaking and threatening to break and make him fall unknown meters down. Their sandwiches hadn't even been touched and, honestly, he wasn't sure if he was hungry anymore.

His voice becomes fragile when he speaks up, half of it stuck in the lump on his throat:

"I'm turning eighteen in less than a month. I understand this might be confusing to you - maybe because you never fell in love with someone older than you -, but you should know you don't choose who you love. It just kind of happens."

Liam glances at the end of the street - and leaves him with his heart pounding on his chest as he waited for something -, not particularly loving what it was earing. But it was true.

"Is it serious at least?"

Harry silently consultes the table before answering:

"Yes. He asked me to be his boyfriend a few weeks ago. Everything we did was with my consent, and he respects me."

"I'm happy to hear that. I just want you to see that I'm only trying to protect you. I don't even know him... I don't want you being tricked into believing he likes you, when he might just be playing with you."

Harry shakes his head in disbelief, but deep down he knew Liam was creating all that drama because he didn't want him getting hurt again.

"That's right: you don't know him. But you're already jumping to conclusions and judging him. I guess I don't have your support, do I?"

He grabs his water bottle and takes another sip, being joined by his friend this time.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to" Liam sighs. "You'll always have my support, you know that. I'm just worried about you."

"I know what I'm doing. And, even though it seems unlikely, he's the one for me and we're happy. I love him, and he loves me - in a way I never knew existed." A smile creeps on his face with the memory of the times they had together so far. And they were the best times of his life. Liam seemed to notice how genuine his smile was, with how much fond he talked about Louis and their relationship. "Like in those best-selling novels you read. That's how special and important he makes me feel. So, please, just trust me on this."

He hears Liam sigh for the second time in the span of five minutes, yet this time he finally lays his weapons down.

"Alright. As long as you have a smile like that on your face."

Harry blushes at the realization that he probably had the most idiotic smile on his face and hadn't even noticed it.

"Thanks." Harry stares at his lap, trying to disguise his intensifying flustered cheeks.

"But if he hurts you - just once - you bet I'll step in."

"I'm sure that won't be needed."

Harry felt relieved for he had finally told his deepest secret, but also he was a ball of nerves and excitement jumping up and down because him and Louis was such an important thing for him and he now got to share his happiness with someone - which happened to be Liam, who he trusted with his own life.

"So that limping and that hickey you're hiding means you had a great night of sex, didn't you?"

He noticed. Shit.

"Liam!" He kicks his leg as lightly and secretly as he can under the table, as a group of people were approaching the restaurant.

"What? It's true isn't it? Is he good in bed? Well, he should be, given his job and the state you're in."

"Are we seriously taking about my sex life over lunch?" Harry says and immediately stuffs his face with his sandwich. With his heart pounding again, he feels a sudden need to smile again because he felt so lucky to have found Louis. But he was blushing like mad, and he had to deal with that first and foremost.

"C'mon... I thought we shared everything!"

Not everything.

"Yeah, he is." He mutters quietly, turning his eyes to his sandwich and biting his lip as an attempt to control his hormones. "Really, really good."

Liam giggles.

"What's his name, by the way?"

"Louis." And, by just saying his name, he loses it and a grin escapes through his lips.

"Well, now me, Becky, you and Louis can go on double dates." Liam says, and if Harry didn't know him better he'd think he was serious.

"Maybe one day." He chuckles, taking his sandwich to his mouth to give the first proper bite. And now that he was really tasting it, he noticed how delicious it was. "So, how are things going with Becky?"

"Great. We're going on our first date this Friday."

"Taking it slow, uh?" He asks, and it was funny that Liam was so lucky with the girls he didn't have to. But something made him change his mind. "She seems lovely."

"She really is." Liam smiles tenderly, and Harry couldn't be happier for him.

"So, where are you taking her?"

"McDonalds - it's her favorite restaurant. And then we'll go to the movies. The safest choice."

"Could do a little better than that." He says with his mouth full of chunks of half-chewed sandwich - as he often did. But Liam never minded it.

"Oh, yeah? And what are you now? A top relationship adviser?" Liam asks rhetorically. "Actually, you never told me where Louis took you on your first date?"

Oh. But he might think it was too much... Which it kinda was, but not at the same time.

"A chinese restaurant." He tells him. "And then we went on the Ferries-Wheel. That was a complete surprise."

"The London Eye?"

Harry nods.

"Just the two of you?"

"Yeah. I guess he kind of rented a cabin just for us, with champagne and everything. It was sick."

 "Woah... Your boyfriend is all about going big or going home. You didn't tell me you also found yourself a Sugar Daddy."

The word rolling out of Liam's tongue made him feel exposed, somehow.

If only he wanted to me my Daddy...

"He's not. He was just romantic. Something you could learn."

Surprisingly - or not - Liam doesn't take it in the bad way.

"If you say so, then maybe I'll buy her some flowers. Roses never fail, do they?"

Now that he thought about it, Louis had never gave him flowers. Well, it's not a rule to give your date flowers - he kind of thought it was cheesy -, but he just wondered if it never occurred to him or he simply didn't like it.

"That's a good start."

 

They hurry back to school after lunch, since Harry had forgotten his English book in his locker and he'd need it for his next class. As he's crossing the hallway by himself, he accidentally bumps into someone.

"Oh, God. Sorry!" He apologizes before he can look at the person he'd just hit, but what he first saw were books all over the floor.

If the hallway wasn't empty, he'd swear there would be people already booing at them - or him, to be more specific.

"No, it's fine." 

The feminine voice sounded familiar to his brain, but only when he looked up at the girl with the long, brown hair crouched in front of him he realized who it was. And she happened to look at him at the exact same time.

"Harry?!" She says, a laugh threatening to come out of her mouth.

"Lauren?!" He chuckles in response and hands her the books he had caught.

"I thought I'd never see you around here."

Harry stands up.

"Me too. But I'm late for class now and I'm struggling a bit with my grades right now and, to top it all, I haven't found a tutor who's available to start right now."

"Oh, yeah, the exams are around the corner." She nods. "Maybe you could call my friend Jonathan. He's a brain. He's in our year and he can give you private lessons. I'm sure he charges much less than those private tutors."

"That sounds great. "

"Give me your phone."

She types her number on his phone and Harry sends her his via message.

"I'll send you his number when I find it."

"Okay, thanks. See you around."

"No problem." She smiles, arranging the stack of books in her arm. "Bye."

Harry runs for his English class and knocks on the door. He was ten minutes late.

I'm so fucked.

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Malik. Can I come in?"

The man - dressed in his usual checkered suits - look at him from the other side of the classroom.

"Sure, Harry." Mr. Malik gives him a rather intimate smile and turns his attention right back to his class when he steps in.

That was unexpected. I hope he's not doing it because he knows I'm with Louis. He thinks as he walks up to the empty chair right next to Liam.

 

 

He comes home right after school. All of his friends had plans on spending the rest of the afternoon studying for the A-Levels together, but Harry just couldn't concentrate around so many people; Only when he was alone in silence. Liam didn't join the study group - which consisted on nearly half of the students from his year - but, unlike him, he had plans with his girlfriend.

Secretly, he wondered if Louis was very busy with work not to even consider them meeting that day instead of only tomorrow. He hated the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about Louis with women - well, a woman - and every time he tried to imagine it - it was really that hard -, he felt sick. Not because he didn't respect his sexuality - he did -, but it was so strange finding out Louis enjoyed being with women as well as men after all the time being with him and assuming he was gay. He had never been or expected to be in a situation like that, but he decided to brush it off and grab onto his books before it was too late.

 After five minutes of finally focusing on a character analysis, his phone buzzes beside him on the bed.

 

From: Lauren

Hey. T he number of the tutor I told you about is 020 7946 0507. 

His name's Jonathan Evans and h e's free every Wednesday and Friday after school.

16:27 P.M

 

He saves his number on his contacts before replying to her.

 

To: Lauren

Thank you.

I can manage by myself for one more day aha. But I'll sure call him tomorrow.

16:28 P.M

 

Just when he's about to lock his phone, it is heard again. Wow, she's fast.

 

From: Louis

Good afternoon.

I hope you haven't forgotten to pick our hotel. I need to make the reservation until tonight. Choose wisely.

P.S: Have you gone over the list I gave you yet?

16:29 P.M

 

Oh shit.

Standing up, he quickly grabs his laptop from his desk and turns it on over the bed. While the Google page was loading he decides to answer Louis. His straight-to-the-point message made him think he was impatient for his choice.

 

To: Louis

Good afternoon, Mr. Tomlinson.

I apologize for taking so long to search for an hotel, but I've been busy with school ever since we last spoke. I'm on it now, though, and I promise I'll keep your advice in mind.

P.S: Your list of kinks? I completely forgot about it with all the stuff I have to study. But I'll make sure to find myself the time to read it tonight before bed. Something tells me it'll be a great bedtime story...

16:30 P.M

 

Shit. Maybe I shouldn't been so sarcastic. But, unfortunately, there was no turning back now.

As he waits for Louis to send him an exasperated reply, he searches through the website for the best hotel he could find them. But then it occurred to him. Should I pick a 5 star hotel? After all Louis was going to pay for it, and it would turn out to be very expensive. He didn't want to seem like he was taking advantage of Louis's wealth. He didn't want him to become a Sugar Daddy, like Liam thought he was.

He hears his phone amid his indecisions.

 

From: Louis

Mr. Styles,

I should let you know that I didn't enjoy your full-on sarcasm mode one bit. You were disrespectful, and I think it's worthy of a nice punishment.

As you should know, I've been terribly busy with work lately, but I always find time for you. I hope you keep that in mind and choose us the best hotel in all London. Don't think I don't know which one it is.

Have a nice studying.

16:33 P.M

 

Shit.

 

To: Louis

I know, I'm genuinely sorry.

About the hotel... Just one night for two is almost £300! I can't let you spend so much money on me like that. I'm sure there's other hotels in London that are much cheaper but still fancy like you want.

Thank you.

16: 35 P.M

 

He scrolls through the Intercontinental hotel website. Whoa... Everything was so luxurious and beautiful, with the best views of London... He couldn't understand why Louis was doing all that in such an early stage of their relationship. If he were Louis, he'd only book them a night at that hotel if he wanted to propose to him or they had no other place to stay. But maybe he was really just a romantic and, after all, their relationship was still a secret so what better place to help them keep it that way than the most expensive hotel?

 

From: Louis

Forgiven but not forgotten.

When I said I wanted you to pick us the best, I meant the best and not any less than that. Money isn't a problem and I like spoiling you, specially when it's things you've never seen or been to. Because I love you, and therefore I hope you accept my romantic gesture and stay with me in a suite at that hotel.

16:38 P.M

 

If he already knew which one it was, why would he ask me to choose?

 

To: Louis

The Intercontinental is absolutely wonderful. Thank you. I just hope there's no problem with my mum for staying another night out.

I love you.

16:40 P.M

 

He waits a minute for Louis' reply, but doesn't come. So he tries to calm his excitement and get back to his English notes. He only manages to memorize one page before his phone buzzes.

 

From: Louis

Our room is reserved. Meet me at the hotel. If you can't stay the night it's fine, I'll drive you home.

Any questions regarding the list, just text me. I don't go to sleep before midnight.

P.S: I love you more.

16:56 P.M

 

He leans backwards and allows his head to collide against the the few decorative pillows on his bed, holding his phone against his chest. This is our second date!

 

To: Louis

I'm looking forward to it.

Thank you. x

P.S: Are we seriously doing this sappy romantic-comedy thing?

16:54 P.M

 

From: Louis

I'm looking forward to spanking you.

You're welcome.

P.S: We're not if you don't say it back and agree that I love you more.

16:55 P.M

 

To: Louis

Hmm... That sounds nice.

I thought you were gonna bring one of your whips with you or something like that.

P.S: How can you know for sure that you love me more than you? And expensive "romantic gestures" don't count.

16:56 P.M

 

From: Louis

I can assure you it'll feel even nicer.

Don't give me ideas, Mr. Styles...

P.S: Because I said I loved you first. And if my memory doesn't fail me you only said it back as you were moaning and I  was deep inside of you.

16:57 P.M

 

To: Louis

It's good to be inspired.

P.S: But if if I recall correctly I made it up to you by saying 'I love you' twice.

16:57 P.M

 

From: Louis

I'm always inspired when you're with me.

P.S: I told you four times, in a jaw-dropping love declaration. I win.

16:58 P.M

 

Harry rolls his eyes, but he was right. God, he wished he was there with him...

 

To: Louis

Am I your muse or something?

P.S: Okay, fine. You win. But just because you made me cry and that's not an easy thing for me.

16:58 P.M

 

From: Louis

I guess you could say that.

P.S: No, we both win, baby.

16:59 P.M

 

To: Louis

Well you've never told me about it.

P.S: ;)

17:00 P.M

 

From: Louis

There's a lot you don't know yet.

P.S: ;)

17:00 P.M

 

To: Louis

Maybe it's time to start sharing...

P.S: Are you copying me?

17:01 P.M

 

If he really thought about it, he didn't really know much about Louis. Yes he'd been to his house and he'd shared about his past, but they haven't talked about the basic stuff like people getting to know each other do. They just jumped right into it - well, into each other's laps to be more exact.

 

From: Louis

Everything in its time.

P.S: A man is free to send a wink face whenever he wants to.

17:02 P.M

 

I wonder when the time will come.

 

To: Louis

:(

P.S: Fair enough. You just seem like you're bored.

17:03 P.M

 

From: Louis

What was that ':(' for?

P.S: I'm having the most tedious day at work. Boring patients until six. Growing tired of this office.

17:04 P.M

 

And then he wonders if Louis was texting him while seeing his patients or he was on break. If he was he could've called him instead. Well, now that he really thought about it it wasn't really a good idea to be having such conversation out loud.

 

To: Louis

I just miss you.

P.S: Well I wish I could be keeping you company and hopefully making your day less boring, but I have to study for my exams.

17:05 P.M

 

Which he wasn't being very successful at.

 

From: Louis

I miss you too, baby boy.

But I know something that might cheer you up...

17:06 P.M

 

To: Louis

Like what?

17:06 P.M

 

From: Louis

I've been thinking about something since our last appointment...

Would you like me to be your Daddy?

* in an exclusively sexual way.

17:07 P.M

 

Holy mother of all the Gods. Dreams really do come true. But they only had ever since he met Louis.  Yet, that was just more proof that Louis could definitely read minds - or at least his.

 

To: Louis

Fuck, Louis... If I was there I would get down on my knees and suck your cock so hard.

P.S: Have you been reading my answers in the questionnaire?

17:08 P.M

 

Harry feels a sudden warmth down there when he realizes how bad he was dying to be with him again. He hadn't touched himself that morning either, so that was the last straw. His free hand falls to his crotch - a place it knew so well - and he starts palming himself through his jeans.

 

From: Louis

Good boys don't curse.

P.S: I have. And I'm greatly surprised, I have to say.

17:10 P.M

 

I'm not a good boy, Daddy , he thinks as he bites his lip.

 

To: Louis

Don't you know I'm a bad boy? And if I remember you said you liked it.

P.S: I can't wait to put them in action, I have to say.

17:09 P.M

 

From: Louis

I'm gonna spank you so hard, baby.

17:10 P.M

 

As he unzips his pants he remembers to have promised Louis he'd tell him every time he masturbated.

 

To: Louis

Would you like that, uh?

P.S: I'm touching myself right now.

17:11 P.M

 

He pushes his pants down his legs and doesn't hesitate on taking his member out, giving it quick, desperate tugs.

 

From: Louis

I would like to bend you over my desk and fuck you until you come all over it much more.

P.S: Fuck, Harry. You're making it even harder for me to remain in this office.

17:12 P.M

 

To: Louis

I would like that too.

P.S: I'm sorry, but I just couldn't contain myself any longer. I haven't touched myself all day.

17:13 P.M

 

"Louis..." He moans as his thumb brushes around the head, eyelids covering his sight momentarily. But Louis was impatient.

 

From: Louis

But didn't you say you didn't want me to fuck you on it the other day?

P.S: It's okay. I'm glad you told me, and  I hope you think about me.

17:13 P.M

 

Maybe because I was still a virgin and didn't want lose my virginity in an office desk, he thinks but he doesn't say it.

 

To: Louis

You just made me change my mind.

P.S: It'd be a little hard not to.

17:14 P.M

 

From: Louis

Oh, I can make you change your mind about a lot of things...

Sadly I have to get back to work.

See you tomorrow, Sweetcheeks.

17:15 P.M

 

To: Louis

Until tomorrow, Daddy :)

17:15 P.M

 

A couple of minutes later he comes on his hand, thinking about his first time in Louis' playroom.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

 

 

                                                                     After dinner he rushes back to his room

 

 


After dinner he rushes back to his room. He had to deal with that intriguing list when he was still free to do it. It had been hidden on the bottom drawer of his desk, under a stack of school papers and random notes. He would have to organize those drawers and get rid of all the unnecessary stuff some time in the close future, as his mom kept requesting him to do. But not today.  They were exactly how he left them, thankfully. He couldn't even imagine someone - other than Louis - looking at if before he did. Sitting back on his bed, he turns the blank cover page around that had "one" written at the bottom right corner and begins reading:

 

 

 

 Sitting back on his bed, he turns the blank cover page around that had "one" written at the bottom right corner and begins reading:

Oh my god...

Half of the kinks listed he had no idea what they stood for. He takes a longer-than-usual breath before rising from his bed to get a pen to fill out the columns. Pulling the lid of his white Macbook up, he's fast to type out all the things he didn't know on the search bar by their alphabetical order.  He wouldn't dare text Louis about them. It was much easier and quicker to search those terms online rather than having to engage in an awkward, sexually-loaded conversation with him and regret his choices later on.

There were only very very few things on that list that he had tried before - the not-so-kinky ones, to be exact - and some of them were actually quite weird to be made part of the list. Of course he'd never let a guy shit or pee over him. That was completely loathsome, to say the least. But he understood that some people enjoyed that - well, you learn a lot with porn sites -, and he wasn't the one to kink-shame others when he had a fucked up kink. The only one he couldn't by any means accept and that was against all of his morals and beliefs was beastiality. As the term said, only a beast of a human being would abuse an animal like that for their own pleasure. He just hoped Louis wasn't one of them.

When he's done with the first page he makes a quick trip downstairs to get himself a bowl of homemade vegan chocolate ice cream - which was one of the few things he bragged about in the kitchen. This is going to be a long night...

It felt like he was taking some school questionnaire to see what his ideal job was. He answers as honestly as he can, sometimes really considering acts that he'd never do for anyone. But Louis always managed to make him feel safe and respected - although very nervous and anxious at times as well - and that was enough not to completely reject some of the kinks. He could expect some future explanation for his answers after Louis reads them, because, after all, he'd agreed on basically everything in there, and even he was surprised with himself. He had never expected to have so many kinks and fantasies.

As he gets to the middle of the third page he's faced with a few not-applicable kinks - they were meant for females. His heart clenches, thinking this was probably the questionnaire he had given to the woman he was with - if there weren't others after all - and he didn't even worried about taking those terms out for him. And it hurt, in some brand new way, how everything Louis had said was becoming very real; too real. He shuts his eyes to the list, attempting to recall all the beautiful demonstrations of love Louis had made and not picture him having kinky sex with a woman - who he ended up hurting. Yet, she was still the "bad guy" in the story for him and not Louis. Maybe because he had never met her and he was already hurting and insecure because of her.

 Maybe because he had never met her and he was already hurting and insecure because of her

It was past midnight when he flips the last page around and he's faced with the blank back page

It was past midnight when he flips the last page around and he's faced with the blank back page. It was done, and his mind was tired and chaotic from overthinking and reading definitions of the listed kinks and fetishes. He felt mentally exhausted, but even if he went to sleep he knew it'd take him a good couple of hours before falling asleep. So he has a great idea to help him take his mind off his worries. 

Logging in into Netflix, he rests his back against two pillows and starts watching the episode where he left off of the first season of Pretty Little Liars. It was an intriguing and captivating show, yet his mind couldn't focus on what was really happening. He missed lines and, after a couple of minutes, ended up not having any idea of what was going on. Frustrated, he closes the app. He had never done so many Google searches in one day, but he just had to know.

He types down "Louis Tomlinson" and hits enter, hoping he would never regret having done so. There were a few articles praising him as a sexologist, talking about the award he had won, mentioning a charity event. But what stroke his attention were the pictures on top of the page, of him and some blonde girl. It felt like Louis was watching him through the screen, and he felt embarrassed for doing that for some reason, but he went on. He clicks on them without hesitating and, at a lunatic speed, he's bombarded with pictures of Louis and the platinum blonde-haired girl. They were very touchy in all of them, holding hands or having their wrapped around the other's neck, and all Harry could think was: This is her.

She looked younger that what he expected, not past her twenty-twos for sure, dressed in tight, revealing black and white clothing. Louis seemed very happy with her and, above all, extremely protective. Harry just couldn't understand why they were papped so much, but he wanted to save every picture of Louis in his computer. He possessed this rare quality where he still looked just as perfect in photographs as in real life.

Scrolling down, he finds more pictures of him and the stunning blonde out at night, leaving a club or restaurant - he deduces - and in some there was a brunette walking alongside them. The three of them were holding hands and there was even a photo of the blonde girl posing next to her like they were friends, and Harry came to the realization that the brown-haired girl in a short dress had to be his sister. They were incredibly alike - small features, softly tanned skin, chestnut brown hair, similar height... There were photos of him on vacations with her in matching sunglasses, it just had to be. And the ones of him and an older woman that was undoubtedly his mom, in a suit and dress in some event, just made him more sure of his own conclusions.

 

                                                   And the ones of him and an older woman that was undoubtedly his mom, in a suit and dress in some event, just made him more sure of his own conclusions

 

Harry didn't understand why he never talked about his mom or even mentioned having a sister once. It made his heart ache again, only knowing about his not-so-private life through the internet, even more than knowing that blonde girl was the submissive he'd had hurt in the past. She was his first submissive - from what he could attain from their past conversations - and she was nothing like him.

She was medium height, had long blonde dyed hair, big round light blue eyes, pouty lips, a tanned and curvy body, oval face and she was just hot and stunning, despite all the makeup. Harry thought she was a model from her sexy, full-of-makeup photos. And he was the almost the complete opposite of her - coltish, tall, short dark-brown curly hair, almond-shaped green eyes, pale and lean body and wasn't even close to be as attractive as her.

What if these pictures aren't that old? What if he never forgot her?  After all, she had met his sister, while he had never even heard from her. He quickly shuts down his laptop and lays him on his usual place over his desk, deciding to confront Louis with what he'd seen the next day. So he lays on his bed and lets a tear fall from his eye as he covers himself with the sheets and then holds a pillow against his chest, not understanding why he felt like crying; or maybe not being in the right state of being to realize it. But he chose to blame his exhaustion.

At six o'clock he's taking the bus to the closest underground station to drop him on Piccadilly, the newest Imagine Dragons album keeping him company. He was happy the both of them came to the agreement that Louis picking him up and driving him around so often was very risky.  And now that he knew he was so prone to be photographed by the paparazzis it was completely off limits. Not until he turned eighteen, at least.  

He waits for Louis on Hyde Park Corner with Park Lane, right in front of the hotel.

The Intercontinental was an enormous, a light grey modern building located right next to the river Thames and the O2 arena - which, sadly, he had never been to. And now that he was seeing it with his own eyes it looked even more mesmerizing.

There wasn't a lot of movement at the entrance. A couple of black vans and other pricy cars stopped by and delivered wealthy men and women with their perfectly-styled hair, Gucci suits and Chanel bags, either on holidays or business. Harry didn't envy their expressionless faces at all. Yet he was leaning against the wall with a straight face, headphones plugged in as he waited for Louis.

Even though he knew very well what they were going to be doing in that hotel suite and he didn't start an argument, he had to bring what he found out last night up. It wasn't normal for a couple - although still only a couple of weeks together - not to talk about such crucial things like family and their troubles.

Louis arrives in his usual black Mercedes ten minutes later. Sam opens his door and he gets out of the car and, suddenly, it was like there were never problems on earth.

The sun shinned its way through the empty clouds above him, brighter all of a sudden. Louis is fast to spot him on the sidewalk and he shoots a discrete smile at him before looking away and walking inside the building.

Harry saves his headphones on the pocket of his jeans and follows after him. Louis was impatiently waiting for him at the all white and bronze marble reception area, sat in one of the leather chairs before two big lit chandeliers. He was wearing a more laid-back outfit than he normally did - a navy blue shirt, black skinny jeans and matching loafers on his feet. His hair was in a brazen quiff, his face shaved and his suit jacket on his hand. He looked holiday-ready.

"Hi." Harry greets, and he doesn't mean to sound so dull. He wasn't even feeling that way at all.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" Louis stands up and goes in for a friendly-looking hug, which was weird for both of them. With the moment of proximity, Harry smelled the manly fragrance he always had on, and it brought him calm and excitement all at once.

"Yes, sorry. I'm just a bit tired, it's all." He shrugs.

"No, sorry we couldn't stay in the Penthouse suite." Louis says as they head for the elevators." But it wasn't available in such short notice."

"Louis, I think you don't get something here." Harry gradually lowers his voice. "This is already like giving me the moon. It's a lot, and I'm thankful for it. Don't need to give me the stars too."

He checks Louis' face from the corner of his eye, realizing saying that had no effect on things at all. Louis glances around before speaking up:

"But we've already talked about this, baby. And you know you deserve it. This, and the entire galaxy. Unfortunately I can't buy it, otherwise I'd give it to you."

What if I don't want the galaxy? What if it's too much for me?

Louis calls for the elevator and they stand in their silence, since there were now people around them, walking back and forth . Gladly, it was empty and they take their places next to each other, all alone.

Leaning against the cold gold support bar, Harry feels an unexplainable force telling him he should kiss him and push his negative thoughts aside. But he didn't need to take charge, as Louis sighs and promptly pushes him against the wall after the doors close, making him drop his bag. His hands find Harry's waist as if they belonged right there, sliding down to his ass to press their crotches together, causing  him to gape and moan onto his mouth.

"I missed you so much, Daddy." Harry tells him when Louis leaves warm kisses down his neck just the way he loved, and saying that word out loud to him for the first time was unbelievably ecstatic.

"Fuck, Harry." Louis groans, nuzzling his nose below his ear. " You have no idea what that one word does to me."

Neither do you.

"I have the questionnaire with me." He tells him breathlessly, feeling his lips wander where he had previously left an hickey.

"Good boy."

Instinctively, Harry puts his hands on each side of Louis' face and kisses him passionately, leading the moves. First of all, he wanted Louis to fuck him, hard and deep. The rest came secondly. Too bad they just couldn't have sex in that elevator. He really wanted to.

Louis gropes his cheeks over the jeans he had worn yesterday, his crotch moving forward in the process, and Harry felt him getting hard.

"Hmm, Louis..." He moans unabashedly, his fist on his hair pulling Louis's mouth onto his to kiss him harder.

Louis rapidly breaks the kiss.

"Calm down, Harry. We have a suite waiting for us."

As if on cue, the bell rings, announcing they were on their destined floor and the doors would be open. Louis lets go of him completely, standing between him and the door, and he checks their floor on the tiny screen on top of the stainless-steel door: it was the seventh. He was thankful that the trip in such popular hotel didn't stop for anyone.

"Come." Louis walks away at a hurried pace, taking an electronic room card out of his pocket.

Harry spots a group of people - who looked like family - waiting in the distance for the elevator to clear so that they could step in. So he rushes to grab his bag, after being distracted by the incredibly suggestive and appetizing sight before him, and follows him down the broad hallway.

They cross the blue and golden-carpeted hallway all the way to its end and Louis stops by the last door of the hall, where the number 328 was engraved in a silver plaque on the mahogany wall. Harry stands in a distance, watching Louis insert the card and unlock the creme embroidered door. He looks around to see if anyone was in the area and curves a finger towards him. With adrenaline rushing down his veins, Harry shifts closer to the door, which Louis nudges back almost immediately.

"Welcome to the Royal suite." Louis says, stepping back to let him in first, and Harry hears his jaw hit the ground.

The suite was an incredibly spacious, vastly-decorated room in shades of white, creme, golden and dark grey, and the open curtains provided even more light and tranquility to the room. Right before the door was a sitting area with plush dirty white leather couches that almost turned light grey surrounding a glassy bronze square coffee table. Harry found it strange that, when he turned to his right, he found a grey marble dinning table right at the entrance of the room.

"I heard the style was inspired by queen Elizabeth II." He hears Louis say, his voice almost echoing as he stood beside him, watching as he admired the view around.

"It's fairly elegant indeed, and just... gorgeous."

He feels Louis' hand on his waist again, guiding him along the room, which smelled of a clean, fresh flowery scent.  

"I'm happy you like it.

The bedroom door was open, beside it a tiny study in the corner overlooking the river. Harry peeks inside, finding a dossal king-sized bed which comfortably fitted three people.

"We're gonna claim this suite for us." Louis whispers onto his hear as they stand below the doorframe, his voice laced with lust, and Harry sees their reflection on the mosaic mirrored wall behind the bed. "Lay on the bed."

With his heart rate speeding, Harry stops by the little sofa next to the desk before the window to leave his bag on and makes his way to the white and dark grey bed. He didn't know what to do, so he just lays down horizontally and waits for Louis to get to him to give him further orders.

Although no one else was in their hotel room, Louis shuts the bedroom door anyway.

"There's nothing better than seeing you laid on a big bed." Louis says, positioning himself between his legs, and Harry struggles to keep eye contact with him. "Except seeing you laid on a big bed fully naked."

Louis finds his tinted lips one last time before pulling Harry's black band t-shirt over his head. His delicate, ivory torso was begging to be touched, but Louis fights against it and unbuckles his belt to pull his jeans down along with his sneakers, not once touching his body. Underneath he was wearing a pair of blood red lacy panties, see-through on the back. He had almost forgot he chose those that morning if Louis hadn't literally gape at them, his breath hitching when he speaks:

"I think you just ruined my plans."

Harry smiles on the inside, proud to have gotten such a positive reaction by simply wearing red underwear. But Louis was just like any other men.

"And what were they?" He asks, staring up at Louis while he straddled him.That was unexpected.

"To strip you down and spank you for the things you said yesterday. But now..." Louis shakes his head, eyes fixing on his lips for a second until he finds Harry's dark gaze on his bulge as he bit his lower lip. Sighing, Louis raises his head to make him stare him in the eyes. And Harry looks at him with the fakest innocent he'd ever seen. "Now I won't be capable of taking you out of those lovely panties of yours."

To tease him, Louis unbuttons his shirt slowly. Harry couldn't take his eyes off his hands and how they exposed his magnificent tanned chest. His hands unconsciously follows his, meeting his bare torso, but Louis is fast to shove them behind his curly head, holding them there.

"Don't do that again. We have a table reserved for us at the restaurant for eight-thirty and I don't want to be late."

"Or we can just stay here. There's a table in our room for some reason, and I'm not hungry, anyway."

Louis throws his shirt onto the floor, a subtle  smirk twisting his lips.

"After I give you a nice spanking, eat your arse and fuck the shit out of you I bet you'll be."

 

Chapter Text

 

 

 

                                                                 

 

Song: Imagine Dragons - I Don't Know Why

Harry finds himself laid on his unyielding lap, securing the undone bedspread between his white-knuckled fingers. His red panties were incommodiously furled in his crack while Louis turned his cheeks of an intensifying crimson color with every strike. Maybe he should start considering wearing a thong when he went to meet Louis.

"Daddy." Harry whimpers quietly when his cupped palm hits him for the fifth time, not going too hard on him for some reason. Perhaps sarcasm wasn't worthy of a severe punishment for Louis.

"Just five more, babe."

His feet were hanging in the air, kicking it when he insisted on the same spot he'd hit just a few seconds prior, as if that'd free him from his hand. When he reaches the ten spankings, he hears Louis taking a deep breath like all his tension had just been released.

"Jesus, Harry." He mutters as Harry fixes his lace panties in their correct place with one hand, aware that he could see his ass perfectly. "You're such a good boy. Now get up."

Harry loosens his grip and, although hobbling, stands up. Louis mirrors him, now facing him shirtless and with strained jeans, temptingly close to touch.

"On your fours, baby boy." Louis whispers, voice low and raspy with his squinted arcane gaze like an heartthrob from the sixties. And all he'd ever said with that body-melting expression, all he would do.

Climbing onto the bed, he sets himself in Louis' desired position, knowing he'd be right behind him. His tongue isn't the first thing he senses on him, but his hands on his thighs, smoothly hauling his panties down to his knees as he trails soft kisses along the way.

"I like the detail of these very much, but unfortunately I can't do my work with them on."

Louis' breath hits his skin before his hands wander over his cheeks, caressing the wide, flustered marks. Harry parts his legs wider to invite him in, tilting his ass up to display his hole for him, eager for more contact. He couldn't think about anything else at the moment other than how much he wanted and needed him all over his body.

"Louis hurry up." He says and the only response he gets is a slap on his ass accompanied by a gutural groan.

"Daddy."

Oh. He likes it as much as me.

"Daddy." He corrects himself, pulse accelerating from the sudden impact. "Please."

Louis dives his head between his cheeks and Harry's lips immediately part, head falling backwards as if he couldn't breathe.

"Yes..."

His mouth in that special place, so intimate and close to him, was capable of making him fly to heaven. It doesn't take long until he uses his star-seeing tongue tricks, swirling around his rim voraciously like he was his first meal in weeks.

"Daddy... Oh my God." Harry moans, legs starting to quiver from how good he was feeling. And that's when Louis clasps the flesh of his ass, now being able to thrust his tongue inside.

He finds himself in a state of daze, his mind shutting down with every pleasurable sensation that went directly to his member. He was so turned on he could erupt. Next thing he knows Louis was no longer touching him, and it was just like he could get inside him and realized how close he already was.

"Finger yourself." Louis commands sharply out of nowhere.

"What?"

"I wanna see you pleasure yourself."

Open-eyed, Harry frowns and his stained, cherry-colored lips jut out to the bedspread.

"But I want your fingers." He squeaks, feeling Louis' index circling around his rim.

"Obey your Daddy and put your fingers inside your pretty little hole, for God's sake!"

He wasn't sure if that sentence didn't turn him on more than it made him disappointed, for those words coiled warm and tightly in his stomach. Either way he didn't want to be scolded or have the risk of being punished again.

His face falls down against the mattress like a domino when he snakes his arm behind him and begins teasing himself, slow and carefully inserting one finger in as he had no lube.

"I didn't say you had to finger yourself dry, did I?" Louis speaks up, his tone now back to normal, with a rasp of arousal. "Let me suck them."

Astonished, Harry removes his fingers as he glances over his shoulder, only to find Louis bending over him to put them in his mouth. He only slides two - his middle finger and index -, thoroughly coating them with saliva with every bob of his head. Before he takes them out, he makes sure to run his tongue up their inner side.

"Now put them in." He huskily commands.

Gliding one inside himself with his palm upwards, Harry thrusts it at a moderate speed, the room so quiet he could hear Louis sigh while he watched from behind him. He knew he was dying to fuck him, but, by the looks of it, he loved being sweetly tortured.

"The other one wants to join the party, too."

Despite the fact that he found Louis' choice of words rather sneering, Harry wasn't capable of laughing in that moment. His bare body was burning hot with the heat that pooled down there, making him want to lose it. But he knew he couldn't; not without Louis' consent.

With two wet fingers sliding in and out, he doesn't dare search for his spot, aware that if he found it he wouldn't be able to stop.

"That's enough." Louis slaps his hands away and Harry hurriedly puts them back next to his head for support. "I'm gonna fuck you now." He says like the sexiest motherfucker that he was, his whisper a puff of air on his ear.

Song: Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys (Instrumental)

Staring at the white, cushioned bedframe, Harry hears the zipper of his pants before they fall onto the floor with a rustling sound. He wonders if he was going to take him right there, in the famous doggy-style position. It would be his first time, though, so he didn't know if he should expect it to feel even better than old, traditional missionary.

He only has time to breathe in before Louis' pushing all inside him in one go, stretching him deliciously. Biting his lip not to whimper too loud, Harry's hands curl into fists, grasping at the silk sheets when Louis tugs his hair not-so-gently while filling him.

"Harder." He pleads, eyes rolling back inside. It definitely felt great taking it like that.

"What, baby?"

"Pull my hair harder." He utters breathlessly, as Louis was already going in deep with his thrusts, not giving him a single moment to get accostumed to his size. But the thin coat of lube seemed fairly enough.

Louis happily wounds his fingers in his thick, curly locks, and that momentary distraction from his major task has him finding his sweet spot.

"Oh Daddy!" Harry calls out in ecstasy. "Right there."

And Louis gives it to him just the way he begged for, pouding hard against his limb-melting spot. When he lies over his back to pound as far as he could go, he has to let go of Harry's locks to wrap his other arm around his torso for leverage. Harry instantly comes down to shaky, loud whimpers, the kind anyone in the area who could possibly hear them would think someone was being murdered.

"Fuck, Harry." Louis groans before he plants a kiss on top of his shoulder. "I love it when you're loud."

His compliment sends a twitch to Harry's flustered member, which was rock hard and hit against his belly every time Louis moved inside of him, as if imploring for release.

"God, I'm so close." He whispers under his breath, not being able to speak out loud when Louis reaches a frenetic speed, aiming for that one magical spot only. "Fuck, Daddy, please."

And just when Harry's about to lose it without his consent, Louis withdraws himself and turns him around with an easy yank of his arms, securing his hands above his head. Everything happened so fast Harry could only lie there on his back with his mouth dropped open.

"Say that again." Louis demands, speaking right onto his parted lips while he spreads his legs as wide as they could go using his knees, not wasting time.

"What?"

While he stared right into Harry's eyes with his pupils blown out, Louis jerks himself off with his free hand, quick and vigorously. And, God, Harry wanted to do his hand's work so bad...

"What you should call me."

"Daddy." Harry replies promptly. He didn't have to think or try hard, it just came out of him naturally, like that was his first name.

"Good boy." Louis smirks devilishly, gripping his wrists tighter after he gathers Harry's member onto his hand to jerk them both at the same time. But just when Harry thought he'd keep the pace, he drastically decreases velocity. "Now beg. Show me how much you want me."

Something inside of him clenches with the unfortunate absence. That way he wouldn't really last longer.

"Please, Daddy. I need you inside of me, so fucking bad." He moans, words punctuated with gasps as he grinds against Louis' hand and cock in search for more friction. And Louis' thumb comes up to rub against their leaking heads, making both of them groan in unison. "Please fuck me, Daddy, and don't stop until you're spilling all your cum inside my hole, claiming me." He reiterates. "But I'm already yours. All yours, Daddy."

"Your such a slut, Harry." Louis says before he penetrates him, not moving while he budges up to pillow his lips against Harry's. And Harry doesn't want to let go of his incredible, sensual kisses any time soon. But, as usual, Louis was eager to please them both. "And I love you so much."

With that Louis turns to fuck him mercilessly, just where he had left off. Harry swallows what might've been a sob, feeling euphoric and overwhelmed for he knew Louis would make him come after a few thrusts.

"Kiss me." Harry begs in delectation, enlacing his legs with Louis' as he hit the right spot again.

When Louis presses their mouths together his vision becomes gradually blurry. His sweaty palms were getting numb, body completely giving in all of a sudden. And he comes with Louis kissing his now inactive lips, from the tiny stars flickering before his eyes, as his mouth shaped a wide 'O', unable to make a sound. But Louis doesn't let go of him before he's coming too, hands letting go of his wrists to press down on his waist.

"Fuck. You're always so good." Louis tells him before he kisses him once again, longer and unhurriedly this time. Harry's fast to wrap his arms around his neck, needing physical support as, leisurely, Louis kept moving inside of him, prolonging their orgasms. And it felt like Harry could come a second time if he had the stamina to fuck him that hard again. "But we should go shower now."

When he came back to all of his senses, Harry notices how uncomfortably hungry he was, so much his stomach was aching already, yet it felt like he could pass on any food if Louis was willing to go for round two.

Song: My Love - Sia (Piano Instrumental)

"I don't want to go." He holds Louis closer to him, the tip of their noses lazily dancing side to side when he shakes his head. "I'm sure we still have time."

Louis' eyebrows shoot up, as if he knew just what he had in mind.

"For what?"

"To stay here a little bit longer." He smiles in his post-sex bliss, fingers running through Louis' messy hair. "Maybe do it all over again."

"I'm sensing this was your first time having hotel sex. Am I right?"

His tongue runs through his arid lip, which tasted like Louis all over, and he bites it as he catches a glimpse of a smirk in Louis' lips from anticipating his answer.

"You know I've never been with anyone like this."

"Like what?" Louis says, finally pulling out of him, and that was so not the time to be having to reply to emotive questions. Harry swallows thickly, as the wide gland forces its way out through his tightness, but the discomfort is soon gone.

Unlike he was expecting, Louis lies down on his side of the bed instead of remaining on top of him, and hauls him against his cooling chest. They lie down in their messy, sweaty sheets and bodies, without minding to wipe of the drying come off either.

"Serious, intimate, honest." He says, resting his head down on his chest before Louis' holding him in a warm embrace. "Tough we could work a bit more on the last one."

"I'm not following."

Glancing up, Harry saw confusing in his eyes. He could feel Louis' thumping heartbeat and it was strange to know that when he appeared relaxed as ever. His was in the same state and, from one moment to the next, he was scared of what he'd say next could ruin all of that. He had seen and read about it before - how fast an argument over the stupidest of things can take relationships down the drain. By any means he wanted a misunderstanding or a crash of personalities; he just wanted to know more about the person he was committed in a relationship with.

"I happened to Google you last night, and I found some rather interesting and revealing photos of you." Harry pauses, waiting for him to say something already. But he doesn't. "The blonde girl... She was your ex, wasn't she?"

He hears him sigh from above him and his voice comes out surfing in a breath of air.

"No."

"Then...?"

"She's my sister. Her name is Charlotte, commonly known as Lottie. I have a younger one, Felicite, but she's still in college."

Suddenly his eyes are wide open and he's fully awake, staring at the unreachably high ceiling. What? That's his sister? And he has two?

"Then the brunette is..."

"My ex-girlfriend."

That word coming out of his mouth and settling in the air between those four walls like a ghost that'd never leave him had him feeling sick."

"She's pretty." Is all he can utter, and he immediately hates himself for that. Her appearance could be good, but to his not-so-reliable instincts she was bad.

"You must hate me right now." Louis runs his fingers up and down his arm, bristling some hair in its way, and all Harry can see that as is an act of consolation.

"I don't." He shakes his head, rubbing the curls covering half of his ear against Louis' firm chest. "Even if I wanted to I don't think I could. I just don't understand why you didn't tell me about your sisters."

"I like to live a private life, and so does Felicite. But Charlotte's in a band, currently touring America from north to south." His words are a cocktail of different emotions - sadness, pride, loneliness, regret,... Harry couldn't pick one which stood out. "Those photos you saw were from when she was in town last year."

"That's why there's so many pictures of you in public." He states.

"Yes. Every time she goes out seems like there's paparazzis all over her face."

"And you and your ex... Did you love her?" 

"Harry..." Louis' tone is a warning, that he probably should not ask questions whose answers he did not want to know. But the truth is that he did, even if they weren't what he wanted to hear.

"You introduced her to your sister, when you didn't even mention her or your mother or anyone from your close family to me." He cuts him off, indignant. "How am I supposed to feel?"

Louis' fingers stop abruptly, his hand resting on the mattress again.

"Family isn't really an easy subject for me to talk about over dinner or in bed."

"Then when? When will you open up to me? You know I trusted you with all my heart, regardless of how wrong and naïve of me it could've been. Regardless of what people would think if they found out. I pushed it all down for what I felt for you." He tells him as pictures are painted in his mind of the many encounters they've had, taking advantage of the canvas the white ceiling was. "Now, please, just answer me."

"My mom died with leucemia a few days before Christmas last year."

Oh my God...

"Before your birthday." He says, open-mouthed with the unforeseen reveal. Louis nods quietly.

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"I'm so sorry."  Apologetically, Harry nuzzles his face in the crook of his neck, as he wonders why someone would go out to party when his mom had just recently passed. Could the club and a couple of drinks be an escape from the insane amount of pain and heartbreak for him? "If I'd known I would've never mentioned her."

"No, you're right. You're my boyfriend: you have the right to know things that even the tabloids do."

"What about your father?"

"He moved on, quicker than I was expecting. Married his secretary. I think they were lovers for a long time, my mum just didn't have the strength to get a divorce. She was hoping he'd change one day, because, as much as I hate it, she loved him."

Harry wouldn't dare say it out loud but, by his voice, he thought Louis felt like a failure to his mom, and it broke his heart in a million pieces.

"Why do you hate it?"

"I have my reasons." Louis spits out, clearly not wanting him to keep touching on the same open wound. "All I can say is that he was never the man I looked up to."

"Is your stepmother good to you?"

Harry really hoped she was.

"We get along. I barely even see them these days."

"You should feel so alone." He says, wanting to hold him until his shattered heart was fixed in place again But he knew he couldn't do it just yet. Time was always needed to heal, despite the enormous amount of sudden love.

"Not anymore."

"Why not?" Harry peeks up at him through his eyelashes, but he's immediately busted when Louis catches his curious gaze.

"Because I found you and, after all this time, I feel at home again when I'm with you."

It feels like there's baby butterflies fluttering their tiny wings inside his stomach, as if learning how to fly, not minding the older ones who just sat there patient and quiet.

"Even in this hotel room?"

Louis nods and his azure eyes are, all of a sudden, lighting up again like the storm had left and the power came back.

"But we don't even live together." He refutes. But, after all, maybe he knew how Louis felt, because he might've felt the same way.

"We don't have to." Louis speaks against his ivory forehead covered with a mess of dark curls. "Sometimes home isn't the place we live permanently. Sometimes it's two eyes and a heartbeat, two arms wrapped around you when you're at your worst." As if on cue, Harry squeezes him tighter by his accentuated waist." Two words that can magically heal you."

Deep inside his mind, Harry wonders: How can he feel that way about me - call me his home - when I've never been there for him in the worst times? And which two words can it be?

"Do you love me more than her?"

He normally wasn't the competitive type at all, but a part of him wanted to be reassured that Louis loved him and, hopefully, more than he ever loved her.

"Harry, all I know in this moment is that I love you. Not her, not anyone else. Only you."

"But you still have feelings for her, isn't it true?"

"We ended things on a bad note, and I really don't wanna talk about that right now." Louis pauses, bringing Harry's chin up to kiss his upside down smile. "I'm here with you."

"Okay." Harry says. He probably shouldn't be ruining their moment together by insisting so much on his ex-girlfriend, but it was stronger than him.

"So what about you? Do you still have feelings for your ex?"

Harry frowns at the question, but it was fair.

"Of course not. At the end of the day we didn't like each other enough. He was a mistake."

So far the worst I've ever made.

Louis plants a kiss on the top of his head.

"Well, I hope you won't ever think the same about me."

Raising his right leg, he drops it over Louis', inverting his position. Now his crotch was directly pressed against his sun-kissed thigh and he was holding him like a child hugging his big teddy bear. He felt a sort of exhaustion taking over him and all he wanted right now was to fall asleep right there, cuddled with him.

"If I did at least you'd be my best mistake." He tells him as his eyes begin to feel too heavy to remain open.

"Hey, no slacking, love." Louis kisses all over his face, trying to keep him awake. If he didn't he'd probably give in to his tiredness. "We have a table waiting for us."

 

 

Song: Miles Davis ft. John Coltrane - Kind of Blue

The Peninsula Restaurant was, by far, the biggest restaurant he'd ever been in. The purple carpet and suede chairs, white tablecloths and golden columns with appointments here and there that created a magical and intimate environment, despite how many people were in the room.

Harry had on a medium, shiny grey suit his grandparents had gave him for graduation but he never liked it enough, a white dress shirt tucked in his pants with a bow tie and black shoes. The suit Louis had changed into for the dinner just happened to match his - all-grey suit jacket and pants, white shirt and black tie and shoes. But, as usual, he looked like a million dollars while Harry felt weird with that outfit.

"Even in my best clothes I still manage to feel out of place." He remark as they follow the waitress down to their empty table, ears being filled with a sad, slow tempo jazz song playing through the speakers. A few people shoot inquisitive glances at them as they walk past them and Harry notices how in every table there was at least one man and one woman. But he and Louis - two men - were there alone.

"Why would you feel that way? Harry, you're smoking hot in that suit of yours."

"Thanks. But I feel like I lack manners. And wealth."

Louis scoots closer, killing some distance between them, his voice now quieter.

"Would it ease you if you held my often-not-so-mannerly, wealthy hand?"

Harry would blatantly snort from his words if he wasn't so consumed by his nerves.

"Louis, we can't do that in public. People are staring and will talk about it. We just can't, as much as I'd love to."

Quickly, Louis flashes a smile at him.

"Under the table, I meant. We're staying in a sheltered area in the corner, don't worry."

"Here's your table, gentlemen." The short, brunette waitress announces with a polite, close-mouthed smile.

Louis was right: their table was hidden in a distant corner of the room that it was harder for them to be seen.

He thanks the waiter as they sit down across from each other in the round table, where their menus rested next to their plates and a white orchid on a tiny clear vase.

Oddly, the waitress stands still by their table in complete silence as she waits for their orders.

"You know you can pick anything you want." Louis says as they grab hold of the folded menus.

After solid ten minutes searching and reading the most fancy dishes they served, Harry decides on the second dish listed below the 'Vegetarian' list.

"I'll have the Rye Harbour Plaice with creamy mash, cucumbers and horseradish sauce." He tells the brown-eyed waitress, trying to impress Louis with the best French accent he could do.

"For me the Dover Sole one with a side of seasonal green vegetables."

The waitress writes down their orders and raises her head afterwards.

"No appetizers?"

"Harry?" Louis turns to look at him, a warm expression highlighting his face.

"Uh, no, thanks." He shakes his head as he puts down the menu.

"For me neither."Louis shifts his attention back to the woman. "We'll have the Pomerol red wine from Château Lafleur, please."

Louis's French hands down beat his.

"A bottle is £500.00, Sir."

What? What? She doesn't think he can afford it? It's really expensive, but I'm sure he can buy ten bottles of it right away.

"Fortunately, I can read." Louis hands her their menus, his sass pouring out of him like he was boiling. "Sure you don't want anything else?" He turns to ask him once again. Harry just absolutely loved when he showed how much he cared about him. It was like he had never been in pain and this was the way it was meant to be.

"No, I don't eat much for dinner and I'm not hungry either."

"Alright, that is all."

In a second the waitress turns around and disappears down the restaurant.

"Wow, a £500.00 bottle of wine...? Is this a celebration, or what?"

"Yes." The soft crinkles by his eyes appear out of the blue.

"Why?"

Louis' hand moves closer to his over the table, slow and subtly.

"Because I want to ask you to spend your birthday with me." His smile grows bigger and sets on his face like that, small eyes glaring him attentively.

"Lou, I had already made plans with my..." And then it clicks. "Oh my God. You want to meet my family."

He did not see that coming. Yes, he'd wondered a few times if Louis would want to do something with him for his birthday, just the two of them, but never that.

"I do, very much." Louis beams at him. "And maybe we can start from there, what do you say?"

There were so many things to think about and discuss before taking such big of a decision but, for some reason, he gets carried away.

"Yes! I'd love to." A hopeful grin forms on his lips too, making a crater pop up in his cheeks, and he holds his desperate hand. "I just hope they take it well."

"They will." Louis promises, his hand engulfed in his slightly smaller one, and Harry felt safe again.