my body leans on only you - 1D: Harry/Louis; minor OMC/Louis - 1/2
Title: my body leans on only you
Pairing: Louis/Harry; (minor) OMC/Louis
Part: 1/2
Rating: NC-17 to be safe
Word Count: ~19,300
Summary: Louis is in One Direction with Niall, Liam and Zayn. One day he meets Harry, a law student, by chance and it scares him how their instant connection feels so right. However, for Harry, there's still a big twist that's yet to come... AKA the one where Louis is famous, Harry is not and love is eventually found at the right time, the right place and with the right person. (Meet Joe Black AU)
Warning(s): Personification of death.
Disclaimer: I do not know these people in reality, it isn't true and not meant to offend. The beauty of fictional constructs. All I own is my original character, even if he is a total jerk.
A/N: This is so self-indulgent and took way longer than it should have. As I said in the summary, it's very very very loosely based on just the love story in the film Meet Joe Black. Don't spoil yourself if you haven't seen it, read my fic first and then go watch it because I do recommend the full thing lol. Comments are always love. <3
It is said through myth and time that Death comes in many guises.
Death is frightening, Death is wings and fire and multiple faces.
Death is peaceful, Death is warm breeze and sunshine and the brightest angel.
It’s hard to tell which until you’ve seen it.
Perhaps...
Death could be anyone.
--
They meet on a balmy Friday morning as Louis sits down in the back of what must be the tiniest café in the world, never mind London. At least it seems that way because no one ever follows him here.
He and the boys are in the city for a couple of weeks break before flying off to resume their tour and it’s one of Louis’ favourite things to come to this place before his brain is barely functioning to gorge on the biggest, greasiest fry up known to mankind. Mark, their group personal trainer, would probably string him up by his balls if he caught wind of such a calorific catastrophe but luckily Louis has a stretch of about a week on his side. Plenty of time to eat a bone-dry salad to compensate.
His time in the corner is blissfully quiet, only punctuated by food and kitchen sounds that are easy to drown out with idle thoughts, until the door opens and the sudden whoosh of air and noise blows in a cackle of a laugh. The short nature makes Louis’ head snap up from playing around with his phone to see the person it belongs to, a young man with one hand over his mouth for a second to catch his amusement a beat too late and the other clutching his mobile to his ear.
“I know, I know - ” Louis hears, as he nods along and strides over to the little queue by the till, “ - but your threats only make me laugh because you’re brilliant. You shouldn’t forget that, okay? I’m sorry he made you forget that.”
Louis tries to pull his tired eyes away, he honestly does, but sue him he’s intrigued. Besides, the young man doesn’t seem to have any qualms about eavesdropping because he is talking pretty unabashed. He’s not being loud and obnoxious as such, but his deep, impassioned voice carries in the tiny café. Louis would hazard a guess that he cares immensely for whoever is on the other end of the line.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous too; leggy and broad-shouldered in a dark grey suit and white shirt. His slightly unruly, curly hair is about the only thing that’s at odds with such a crisp image, although somehow that makes him approachable with an air of being very much at home in his own skin. He’s definitely young too; his profile clean-shaven and his posture easy like someone with the enthusiasm of just starting out.
Quickly, he turns his head as he’s one person before placing his order, as if checking where he could sit if he wanted to and his gaze snags on Louis for a millisecond. It’s the push that Louis needs to quit staring, looking down sharply into his lap to realise with an inward groan that he’s lost all his Candy Crush lives again.
“I wish I could come see you, babe,” the young man clucks soothingly, dropping his voice to something more intimate. A twinge of sympathy flashes brightly in Louis’ chest, connecting with memories of phone calls to his sisters as they’ve sat thousands of miles apart. “I’m starting this morning but I could - okay, okay, I won’t, I promise. I promise!” he giggles, actually giggles, and Louis gives up completely on not listening because he’s not hiding a thing and he’s just so sweet. “I love you so much - yeah - tell them I said hi - you’re so strong, please remember that. He doesn’t deserve you - mmhm, yup - love you lots, bye.”
With a forlorn little sigh, he slides his long limbs into a seat by the counter, apparently choosing to have his breakfast on a high chair and small space rather than take one of the last empty booths for himself. Somehow it makes Louis feel a tad ridiculous for sitting on his own on seats made for four and his face is hot as the waitress plonks down his fry up and he manages to utter a croaky “cheers,” as she walks away.
He eats far quicker than he normally would and the time seems to tick by just as fast if his text messages are anything to go by, Liam already checking to see how he is and Niall begging him to go to a Derby game on the last day of their break, but he keeps throwing furtive glances to the man in the chair in front of him, his hips narrow and knees pressed primly together. Curiosity has always been one of Louis’ greatest assets and biggest flaws, but a stranger is probably a no-go area, no matter how pretty he is, so Louis tries to calm himself and resigns to paying and then going back to his house to play FIFA in his boxers for the rest of the day, probably.
Except.
“Hi.”
Louis blinks, surprised. “Er, hi.”
“I saw you looking over earlier. Sorry if I was talking loudly.” he says but he grins and leans in like it’s a secret that Louis heard him and not the several other customers dotted nearby as well. “I get a bit carried away with my pep talks sometimes.”
“No worries,” Louis shrugs, “I’m sure your ‘babe’ appreciated it and that’s what matters, I guess. Or so I’ve been told.”
“It’s my big sister,” he sighs again and Louis can feel his eyebrows shoot up, lucky that the guy is staring at his half finished plate, “Boyfriend troubles. I know she can deal with him perfectly fine by herself, but I’m her brother y’know? Can’t help it. I just want her to be happy, not dicked around by pricks like him.”
It’s a little heavy and over-sharing between two strangers but he looks genuinely crestfallen with his big green eyes and furrowed brow. It’s so endearing and Louis finds his hand placed on his shoulder before he can stop himself, his other hand pocketing his change from his order. “I’m a brother too, so I definitely know what you mean.”
“Oh yeah? To how many?”
“Four younger sisters.”
He whistles lowly, eyes wide. “Shit, you must think I’m such an amateur.”
“No!” Louis smiles, giving him a squeeze before he drops his hand into his jacket pocket, “The opposite, actually. I’ve not had the pleasure of experiencing arsehole boyfriends with them yet and I’m dreading the day I will. I want them to stay tiny and cute and innocent forever.”
A hand finally stretches out towards him. “I should’ve said this before, but I kind of got distracted by everything. I’m Harry. And you’re Louis from One Direction.” Louis closes his mouth as Harry raises his - wow, massive - hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged, I know who you are.”
Louis snorts, “Who doesn’t,” then quickly checks himself, scratching at his neck. “Um, that was a joke and not a very good one. I’m not that - I don’t think - ”
“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, grinning. “You make a very valid point. Your face is everywhere. But it’s cool. It’s a nice face.” Louis coughs out a single huff of a laugh, his brain still sluggish and knocked for six by such bold flirting. He’s lost for words in the precious seconds it takes for Harry to grow a kernel of embarrassment and Louis already hates that he put it there. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so - forward and I don’t want to make you anymore uncomfortable, but - would you like some tea? Just as a mediocre, lukewarm apology?”
Louis looks at the small metal teapot he’s holding then to Harry’s open expression. The thought of crap café tea makes him shudder. There’s an empty chair right next to Harry.
He sits down.
--
“ - And that’s how we ended up in Miami, on a ridiculously expensive yacht that our big boss hired for us, buzzed off our tits and laughing like hyena-children over fuck all.” Louis finishes his tale grandly, taking another sip from his cup before leaning back into his chair. “We were hoping to make it a nice bonding thing but the paps probably caught us. They usually do, they’re everywhere.”
Harry blinks at him, chewing the last of his breakfast in the silence but also like he’s weighing up his words carefully. “Wow,” he breathes eventually, “that sounds - ”
“ - Annoying?” Louis nods, “Yeah, sometimes.”
“No, no, I wasn’t - ” Harry starts, shaking his head, “I was going to say lonely. It sounds...lonely.”
“I’ve got my boys and I love my job, the singing and the performing,” he replies, automatically defensive as well as a little self-conscious, like he doesn’t think he has any right to complain even if he wanted to. “It’s all I need really.”
“But they have girlfriends, right? Your bandmates?” They stare at each other for a beat. “What about you? You mentioned everyone else’s someone, but...do you get lonely?”
Louis flounders, caught off guard. “I, uh - ”
“Sorry!” Harry’s wide mouth twists as he pulls a face, giggling to break the awkwardness. “There I go again. It’s a habit; I like to work people out. In fact, it’s kind of essential for me, for what I want to do.”
“And that is?”
“Law. It’s my first week on a placement and I think I’m going law-mad, so excuse me if I’m too...intense.”
“Somehow I doubt that’s completely law’s doing. That seems to come naturally to you.” Louis says dryly, watching Harry blush pink for a second. “I can see you up there already, on the stand, interrogating some poor sod into confessing why he killed his best friend’s-nephew’s-son’s pet parrot.”
“Witnesses go on the stand, not me!” Harry cackles, nearly falling backwards from the force of it. “But then I think you did that on purpose? You’re funny. Funny and a nice face. I lucked out this morning, didn’t I?”
Louis steadies him as he fights the smile that threatens to burst onto his nice face because he should stop this, really put his foot down that they shouldn’t flirt like this and in public no less. Anyone could overhear them and that’s how Louis justifies it as he shifts closer and drops his voice, shielding his mouth with his hand as he hovers by Harry’s cheek. He tries to watch Louis sidelong as well as take in what he’s saying and it’s suddenly intimate, but it’ll cancel itself out if Louis just -
“I am seeing someone.” he whispers frantically, “I’m not lonely. It’s - he’s - he’s a...he.”
Harry clears his throat. “Oh. Well, that’s great! Is that why you don’t - why you didn’t mention - ?”
“Yeah, we’d rather keep it...our business y’know? He works for my dad.” Louis’ nose scrunches, thoughtful. “Stepdad. Former stepdad. Fuck if I know what to call him anymore. He moved here, to London, when he and my mum got divorced and Andrew - that’s my...him - relocated too, as if he thought, I don’t know, he’d get to see me more this way. He’s...dependable like that.”
“You say it like that’s a bad thing,” Harry nudges him with his elbow until Louis stops staring at his hands and looks up. “Dependable,” he mocks in a terrible imitation of Louis’ broader northern accent, “like its italicised and everything.”
“I don’t mean to,” he sighs, realising he’s dangerously close to spilling too many feelings to a virtual stranger. “Andrew’s...”
Intelligent.
Grown up.
Boring.
“Older.” Louis’ relieved to feel a little grin. “It was exciting at first, some sophisticated high-flyer chasing after little ol’ me,”
“Louis, you’re a popstar!” Harry laughs, incredulous.
“No,” he says firmly, “to him I was - I am - his boss’ son. Stepson. Whatever. But I guess that must’ve been exciting for him too.”
“I can’t help but notice there’s a lot of past tense going on here...”
“I am still with him. It’s just...” he fiddles with the handle on his plain white teacup, “...Mum always told me this thing when I was little, this great big speech about how when I was older she wanted to me to find someone who would make me deliriously happy, who’d sweep me off my feet and love me as crazy as I would love them. I thought it’d change when I came out, but all she did was say it again, with added tears...” He’s lost for a moment in the memory, one key phrase sticking in his mind like he’d heard the words only yesterday. He glances up, aware that he’d zoned out, but Harry’s listening as intently as before. “She told me to stay open, to forget my head and listen to my heart because one day, maybe - ”
“ - Lightning could strike. ” Harry finishes for him, gentle and awed.
Eyes wide in astonishment, Louis knows he could say a million things to that if he hadn’t had his voice knocked out of him by someone who knew what he was going to say. How did that happen?
He doesn’t say I feel like it genuinely struck me right now for the first time in my entire life.
He doesn’t say I don’t think Andrew’s even close to being someone I see myself with five years in the future, never mind forever.
What he says is:
“I have to go.”
Louis drains the last of his cup, raising it wordlessly to Harry in thanks, who hasn’t said anything more, and goes to leave but he’s only one step away from the chair when his arm is tugged back and he can’t help it, he turns his head. Harry makes him want to turn his head. It frightens him to the core.
He smiles softly, all dimpled sunshine. “I’ll walk you out. I should leave for work anyway.”
Louis lets him, but he’s in front as they get to the exit, thank god, and so doesn’t have to feel like Harry’s doing anything especially for him, such as holding the door open and acting like a gentleman on a first date. Still, his upbringing forces him to not leave things on rude terms and he forces his feet to face Harry’s way as they stand outside the café to say goodbye.
“It was nice meeting you, Harry,” he says, genuine. “Thanks for the tea.”
“Any time. I like this place. I think I like London. I like you. Hey,” he takes a step forward, aborting a move to reach for Louis’ wrist when he sees the tetchy storm on his face. “I didn’t mean to freak you out in there, I’m sorry. I heard that too and I wanted you to know that you’re not alone and that your mum sounds like a smart woman and it’s - ”
Louis gives him a little push in his stomach, slowly grinning despite himself. “Stop apologising. I’m not made of glass. People do still tell me no and the truth and things that kind of make me question...Anyway,” he asserts quickly, seemingly shaking himself out of saying more, “I really do have to leave. I’ve got a smart woman and some shrieking rascals coming to visit. Bye, Harry.”
This smiley law student beams again like Louis isn’t bailing way too many hours before he needs to. “See you around, Louis.”
It’s a lot more open-ended than goodbye but it’s how he wants it and Louis can’t tell him to change that, change him. Even if he feels like he wants to run away and hide and never think about this precious morning again. Because of this, See you around, Louis plays looped in his brain like a traitor as he heads down the street. He’s sure he’s imagining Harry burning holes into the back of his head as they walk in opposite directions and he chances a quick glance over his shoulder against his better judgement. However, he’s actually not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when he sees the mop of curls not turned, confirming that it was indeed in his own imagination. He has no idea of the game they’re playing. A little to-and-fro act that Harry is as clueless about. They never catch each other’s eyes again. Louis fails to see him stand still a little longer, unwittingly love-struck in the middle of the road, staring after him as if it’ll make a difference and Louis will magically turn around and notice the gesture. Well, it will make a difference, but not one either will have expected.
Louis rounds the corner, out of sight, to the distant screech of tyres.
--
The funny thing is, it wasn’t a lie that he had to quickly leave the café that morning as he’d already stayed far longer than he usually would, purely because Harry was so nice and so very attractive. He can admit to himself that it was lovely while it lasted, but his life has everything it needs and he’s not downhearted at all. He has a job he loves, friends he’d do anything for, a boyfriend who’s a great stabilising influence and a family he adores with all of his heart.
And his mum and sisters are coming to see him today.
A couple of hours later, the wall of chatter and laughter as they get out of their car always hits Louis like running into an oncoming ocean wave - exhilarating and full of joy because he gets to hug his mum and look at his sisters with a helpless smile, see how they’re growing up so fast. Sometimes when he’s away for long stretches of time it feels like he’s missing out and it stings, but technology is something of a saviour to him and his boys.
“Oi oi, look at you!” he beams, as the twins rush forwards from his driveway and HE pulls one - who happens to be Phoebe - straight up into his arms, “God, I think you’ve officially got too big for this, babe.”
“No! Don’t say that, stupid!” she shrieks right into his ear, making him wince.
He gnashes his teeth at the little palm clumsily covering his mouth. “Rude, but okay, forget I said anything.”
He is so easy for this lot, it’s tragic. He looks up just as his mum puts one of the bags on the ground and reaches out an arm to yank him forward. He instinctively tightens his grip on his sister through a laugh, pretending to wheeze for breath as he receives the cuddle of a lifetime.
“How’s my baby?” Jay smiles, keeping her hand cupped around the back of his head.
“Fine!” the twins chirp before he can say a word, Phoebe wriggling until Louis lets her down to high five her sister.
Maybe he did that with them slightly too much when they were younger. “Cheeky monkeys! She’s talking to me!”
“You’re not a baby,”
“I didn’t think you were either,” he retorts, pinching Daisy’s nose in a fake steal.
“I don’t know,” Felicite adds, faux-thoughtful with a definite glint in her eye. She’s dyed her hair and he can see how she’s grown a tiny bit taller as she stands patiently behind his mum with Lottie, who’s tapping away at her phone like she’s completely above this outdoor reunion. “You can be sometimes.”
Louis makes a face at her. “Shut it, smelly head,”
“Make me, vombucket,”
“Vom - ” he cuts himself off, impressed with a little nod, “alright, I’ll give you that one.”
“Okay, everyone, let’s take this inside, shall we?” Jay shakes her head at them all fondly, shouldering the bag by her feet again and carrying two rucksacks. How long are they staying for, a month? “Darling, lead the way.”
Louis places his hands on either side of his front door, blocking it. “Hmm, what’s the password?”
Her eyes narrow. “Mum’s the word.”
“Passwords shouldn’t have spaces, but okay,” he grins, moving away and into his house as they follow.
It’s good to be back.
--
It’s barely an hour into their visit when Jay gets a call on her mobile. Her children whine, Louis included, because she promised that work wouldn’t need her as she’d be hundreds of miles away in bloody London but frowns when she doesn’t recognise the number. Louis ushers his sisters into the kitchen with his own promises about treats in the fridge to give his mother some privacy.
She’s quick to return, but her face is serious as Louis is the first to catch her eye. In fact, she looks completely shaken and suddenly pale.
“Mum?” he asks, careful to keep his voice steady and not cause any unnecessary panic between his younger siblings. “Everything alright?”
Her head twitches then she swallows heavily. “Your dad’s been rushed to hospital.”
“He's what?” He feels like the rug’s been pulled out from underneath his feet, fragments of thoughts colliding. “Why are you - what’s with the - but he’s not our problem anymore!”
He’s shocked the second the words tumble out of him, but not as shocked as his mother, her eyes flashing warningly and her lips a thin, tight line. “Louis William Tomlinson, you apologise for that right this second - ”
“Shit.” he whispers, his whole body starting to tremble as he slaps a hand to his mouth, “I’m sorry, I - I didn’t - it’s not - Mum - ”
Jay crosses the kitchen in two strides and gives him a quick squeeze with a kiss to his hair, “Hey, shh, alright, take it easy. I suppose apology accepted. I could never resist that face. Now come on, we have to go see what’s happening. Help me with the girls.”
Pushing down the churning in his gut, Louis plants his hands on top of Lottie and Fizzy’s heads to annoy them. “Okay then, you lot! We’re going on an unplanned adventure.”
The twins cheer uproariously, enough that it hides Lottie’s frantic whispering to him and Fizzy’s accompanying worried face. Louis slips his hands down to their shoulders and gathers them close to his sides, purely so he feels less like he’s going to float away. Or throw up.
--
Still, something about the last year and a half turns him into a little shit once they’re told in the family room at St Luke’s that their father and ex-husband had suffered a heart attack. He knows it’s borne out of fear that’s not even that hidden, fear of losing his dad for good, but he can’t make himself stop once he knows the guy is not on his deathbed and will just need to take it easy, change his life slightly before his body decides to give him a bigger warning.
Louis folds his arms across his chest and looks at his feet. “No. I’m fine. You go first.”
He can see Lottie and Fizzy ahead of their mum, Jay stood between them and him, as he apparently chooses not to see his father with the rest of them.
“Don’t be silly; come on.” she sighs when he stubbornly shakes his head. “Lou bear, he’s your dad.”
“So you keep saying.” he mutters, biting his thumbnail with a frown. “And stop calling me that. It's no better than Boo Bear. In fact, I hate anything to do with bears and my name so quit saying it, yeah?”
“You’re acting like a bear with a sore head,” Lottie puts in gleefully from behind Jay’s back.
Louis rolls his eyes as his mother turns to her eldest daughter, “Hey, that’s enough. Go see your dad and I’ll be with you in a minute, thank you, sweetheart. Take your sisters too. I want a word with Louis alone.”
His sister pokes her tongue out at him before she leaves, brightly telling the twins “let’s go see Daddy!” as they push open the door to walk down the corridor. At least he has a private room. He’s doing pretty well for himself in the city these days and can afford to flash the cash a bit. Not as much as Louis obviously but then that particular comparison is unfair.
He feels a touch to his cheek and realises he’s been staring at the door of which beyond lies the only man he’s ever thought of as his honest to god father, recovering from a heart attack. All of a sudden, his knees feel a bit wobbly.
“What’s gotten into you today, Lou?”
He sits down hard in the first seat, not even sure he’ll connect with it, and scrubs his hands over his face a few times. “I had a really weird morning.” he says from between his fingers, trying to breathe, “I dunno, it scared me shitless and it’s stupid.”
“I know I probably frightened you in the kitchen, but sometimes I forget who I’m talking to. You’re so grown up now y’know, my baby first born.” Jay takes the seat beside him and strokes a hand through his fringe. “Listen to me, Dad’s gonna be fine. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
For a second, Louis wants to tell her that’s not entirely what he meant, he wants to tell her about Harry, that he knew about lightning striking and love and passion that is forever, but he knows it’s not the right time. Besides, he’s not supposed to be inappropriately obsessing over other men he barely knows. He’s in a committed relationship. By the same token, he knows why he wants to spill. She likes Andrew well enough, but Louis’ always got the impression that a tiny part of her thinks he doesn’t quite fit with her son or their family as a whole. For example, he’s not exactly the type to let the twins slather him in makeup and put pins in his carefully coiffed hair.
“I don’t want him to leave again,” he says quietly into her shoulder and there it is, the black cloud looming above. “Like, permanently.”
“Oh baby,” she clucks, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s alright. He’ll be right as rain in no time, you’ll see.”
He melts into her embrace enough that he believes it.
--
Things are almost back to normal a few days later.
The morning Louis’ dad was discharged from hospital, he told his children that he wanted them all to come to dinner at his house. With his usually hectic schedule, Louis can’t remember how many months it’s been since it happened last and everyone agrees. Jay stays at Louis’, fending off her son’s worry at being excluded by telling him that they needed some time with their other parent, followed by some deliberate mushy stuff about the brand new man in her life and how she was going to spend her evening using this invention named the phone. In moments like those, clearly Louis sees where he got his wit from.
So here they are - Louis and his dad, his siblings and Andrew. Somehow the fact that Andrew is amazing at his job has always seemingly got more attention from his dad than him sleeping with his son and it makes Louis feel pretty mundane. Thank god for his flighty career as a jet-setting popstar!
“Where are you off to next, Louis?” he asks right on cue from across the table.
“Australia.” he smiles, fond memories taking over for a second. “Me and Liam are gonna do so much surfing again.”
“Is that wise?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” he shoots back, quirking an eyebrow at Andrew eating primly next to him.
He’s still in a suit and tie, making Louis feel decidedly underdressed in his jeans and low neck t-shirt. Andrew pats his hand as it rests on the fancy tablecloth.
“I’d rather you didn’t get hurt that’s all. Who knows what’s lurking in the water over there.”
Louis tries to find his concern touching rather than patronising. He falls a little short. “I can look after myself, thanks. Hey, I think I heard the door?”
Letting the subject go, he reaches for his drinking glass that isn’t even empty and has no intention of going to the door (even though he actually thinks he heard the doorbell). Instead, he gets up from his seat and walks into the kitchen to get away for a second. Also before he has the chance to say something he might regret.
Intelligent.
Grown up.
Boring.
Not meant to be.
He growls under his breath the minute his thoughts from his conversation with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named pops into his head for the first time in a few days. Admittedly, he’s had more pressing matters to deal with since then, like his father suffering a heart attack in the middle of a meeting at work.
Maybe they simply need a dirty weekend away somewhere to recapture the spark. Him and Andrew, not him and Harry. Perhaps they can try a bit of roleplay, pretend like Louis’ father/Andrew’s boss doesn’t know about them (like he didn’t at the start), the thrill of it all, and he can get fucked hard on an old leather couch or after a picnic by a lake lined with trees (neither of which have ever happened, but a guy can dream his cheesy log cabin fantasies).
I like chest hair and proper stubble and men in nicely tailored suits. I like them older, more experienced, willing to teach me things. I like sucking dick and taking it up the arse and I have found all these things and more, Louis recites silently as a reminder whilst he fills his half-empty glass with more orange juice and heads for the door. He hears conversation as he gets close, but zeroes in on Andrew because he feels a tad guilty and he wants to be proactive in his relationship, damn it. Relationships do take work.
He trails his hand boldly down Andrew’s chest over his shirt and smudges a quick kiss to his temple (he’s not one for PDA, even in front of potential future family-in-law) and sidesteps to sit down when he spots his dad stood in the entry to the dining room with another man having suddenly materialised beside him. Guess there was someone at the door after all. Louis straightens up immediately, eyes wide, and his fingers tighten on the glass in his hand so he doesn’t drop it in shock.
“You? Sorry, I - ” he splutters, mouth hanging open and blinking like he really can’t believe his eyes. “Harry?”
Louis’ dad and Andrew both look between them, surprised. Andrew cranes his neck until Louis takes the hint and slowly slides into his seat. He feels like he’s been drugged as he watches Andrew frown in confusion from the corner of his eye. “You know him?”
“I - we only - ” he grapples around for how to explain, “We’ve met, yeah. Last week, a little place in Camden.” Andrew doesn’t know about that café. God, Louis never thought in a million years that he’d see Harry again and have to think about the effect that day had on him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”
He watches his dad and Harry share a look. Harry looks a little less put together than that morning - his tie loosened and askew, a button open at the bottom of his waistcoat - as if he’d had a particularly taxing day. Louis’ dad swallows thickly, silent communication strangely passing between them even though, as far as Louis’ aware, they don’t know one other at all and this is a figment of his imagination. A fever dream. A hopeless, inappropriately misguided crush.
“Well, this is Harry, er, Styles,” his dad stumbles as the man himself looks on, serene. “And he works for me.”
“What?” Louis gasps.
“What?” Andrew barks.
“What?” Louis’ youngest sisters’ chime, collapsing into giggles because they think this is a game.
He grips Harry’s shoulder. “Harry started working for me last week and, uh, he dropped by because I asked him to, obviously. I mean - ”
“When were you going to tell me about this, Mark?” Andrew interrupts, expression dark.
For once, Louis doesn’t want to add anything because he’s too busy berating himself for not asking Harry enough questions that morning at the café. If he did, he would’ve found out that Harry was about to become more tangled in his life than either of them could’ve predicted. Although he will admit he’s confused as to why Andrew apparently knew nothing about it too.
Harry takes a step forward, eyes sparkling but a smile not really on his face. Louis’ not used to that. It seemed to him that Harry was the type to smile a lot and so easily. “And you are?”
Louis sees the precise second it ruffles Andrew’s feathers. Instead of a polite enquiry like Louis is sure it was (okay, half sure), he takes it as a dismissive sleight against his status or something and actually stands up, holding his tie to his stomach and thrusting his other hand out. Louis bites his cheek to stop the sigh over such alpha male bullshit.
“Andrew Baxter.” he introduces as the muscle in his jaw twitches and he pumps Harry’s clasped palm vigorously. “I’m a barrister at Mark’s firm.”
“Top man, top man,” Louis’ dad nods quickly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “One of our best.”
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Harry pins him there with his gaze, looking anything but.
“Yes, well.” he blusters in the ensuing silence, jerkily extracting his hand to sit down again. He drapes his arm over Louis’ chair, something he’s never done before, and Louis can’t help the raised eyebrows he throws him for such uncharacteristically odd behaviour, which he’s possibly oblivious to or ignores.
“Right!” Louis’ dad cheerily claps Harry on the back, before he can do much more than smile wanly at Andrew and have to leave it at that. “Thanks for coming over, Harry. I know it’s getting quite late and I’m sure you’ve got family or a girlfriend to get back to, so I’ll let - ”
“I don’t have to go actually.” Harry says, bold but entirely calm, then curiously sniffs the air, eyes roving the table and their half-eaten meals. “Mmm, smells like my favourite.”
His full grin is like kittens and rainbows and those dimples, holy hell. Louis’ weak despite himself and it seems his dad is too. “Oh. Then, uh, you should stay.” he suggests, “Yes, yes, stay and have dinner with us! There’s plenty to go around and I suppose we do have some things to discuss.”
“Thank you so much, Mark.” he inclines his head in a nod. “That’s very kind of you, honestly.”
“Not at all.” Louis’ dad motions him to the end of the table, where Andrew not-so secretly sulks on his right and Lottie is starry-eyed to his left. Louis really must remind her that she’s got a boyfriend and, while he’s at it, so does he. “So let me introduce everyone. We have Andrew, my right-hand man, you’ve apparently met Louis already and these are my daughters - Charlotte, Felicite, Daisy and Phoebe. Please, take a seat.”
They lapse into dinner-quiet, clinking cutlery and chewing until Louis looks up and sees Harry is already staring at him. It’s a sort of blank look and would be creepy except he makes it seem simply attentive instead. Louis presses his lips together to hide his smile in case, between them, Andrew sees and bows his head to stare at his meat and two veg. Suddenly, he’s thinking of dick jokes and snorts. Harry follows; grinning openly once he knows he’s broken the ice.
“So Louis,” he begins, dabbing his mouth clumsily with the napkin he’d endearingly tucked into the front of his shirt collar. “How do you know Andrew? Just as your father’s highly adored colleague?”
He never took Harry for a careful wind-up merchant because he’d mentioned Andrew at the café, but he’s got the best poker face and the knowledge of this new skill makes Louis cover his laugh with a cough into his fist, eyes crinkling nonetheless.
“I’m his partner actually.” Andrew leans forward to answer for him, blocking their view of each other.
Harry raises his eyebrow too innocently ‘curious’ to be genuine, shifting his eyes off Louis slowly. “Oh? Business partner?”
“No.” he grits out, “Boyfriend. But we prefer the term ‘partner’, don’t we, darling?”
If he’s completely honest, Louis doesn’t care either way but he hums his agreement anyway to placate the poor guy before he dies from being toyed with.<
Trying to return to his mission of being a good partner; he further takes the risk of sliding his hand onto Andrew’s tense thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. He flinches at the contact because, of course, the PDA thing - especially in the company of a stranger - and it makes Louis twitch too, embarrassed that he can’t even be that cheeky anymore. He thought he liked his spontaneous, mischievous streak. He’s uncertain whether Lottie giggled and nudged her sister, but it feels like she knows what he was doing under the table and he’s horrified that his cheeks burn. It only gets worse off Harry’s intense stare and he’s going to need counselling or something to work out why or how that makes him squirmy.
As a sorry on top of a sorry, Louis reaches up and brushes his fingertips along the side of Andrew’s head. His hair as black as tar and is a plentiful, slicked quiff on top with short sides but Louis thinks he can see grey coming through if he squints and he finds it sexy and distinguished like George Clooney, honest, even though his boyfriend is barely 32 years old and his face is pale around his dark brown eyes. Clooney without a tan and the hot daddy wrinkles then.
“Louis, stop it.” he hisses irritably only after a few seconds, jerking away.
He folds his hands in his lap with a sigh.
It’s gonna be a long night.
--
A couple of days pass and Louis feels so antsy, possessed by this excess energy that he hasn’t been able to get rid of. After dinner the other night at his dad’s house, he didn’t go home and have sex with his boyfriend like he hoped and he blames that as the latest reason why his life suddenly feels off-kilter, however churlish it is. He’s tried to make himself be vaguely useful today, but it has ultimately come to this: being at his dad’s twice in one week, doing slow laps of the indoor pool to see if exercise will do the trick. Masturbation only takes the edge off for so long.
Surfacing from swimming a length underwater, Louis pushes his flattened fringe away from his eyes and blinks out the chlorine. Weak daytime sunlight filters through the big bay windows and he can see the rest of the house from where he lifts his crossed arms up onto the edge of the big, rectangular pool, outside decking and a garden leading to French doors. Alone with his thoughts, every other noise he hears is magnified and a squeak has him whip his head around quickly, heart beating fast until he sees that it’s Harry, dressed in a much neater suit and shiny shoes, more reminiscent of the man he first met.
“Oh,” he says flatly, panic over. “It’s you.”
“Yes. Who else would it be?”
“Strangers who turn up unannounced in the middle of the evening?” He knows he’s being glib and crotchety because of the nightmare couple of days he’s had to deal with and his long-standing niggles with Andrew, so he’s apparently taking it out on the next person he comes across, but he can’t bring himself to be polite when his precious alone time has also been disrupted. When Harry still hasn’t moved an inch from entering the room, in fact barely reacted at all, Louis decides, with an inward sigh, to climb out. “I’m surprised you’re not at the office. That’s where my dad is.” he adds meaningfully, careful on the slippery floor in walking over to the sun lounger to pick up his towel and haphazardly dry off. “What do you want?”
“Do you love Andrew?”
He freezes, snaps his gaze up from where his hands have stilled at his wet thighs. “What? Where did that come from?”
“Do you love Andrew?” Harry repeats easily, tilting his head. Louis fights the urge to cover himself completely as curious eyes linger on his bare torso. “I saw you kiss him at dinner the other night, but he wasn’t very...responsive.”
He feels his jaw clench, shocked by the invasiveness of such a question. There’s one thing to share a joke over tea, it’s another to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business if we’re ‘responsive’ or not.” he replies tightly, automatically defensive because it’s just too unintentionally close to the bone. “Listen, I shouldn’t have told you about him, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just forget I said anything because I don’t think it’s helping and you can just go back to whatever you’ve got going on with my dad, which, by the way, I can’t believe you didn’t mention to me before and, for god’s sake, why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” Harry asks gently, unfazed by his distracted frown and continuing to stare at his mouth.
“So intense when I’m talking.”
“I’d like us to be friends. Would you prefer it if I stop?”
“Yes.” he snaps, before Harry’s open face makes his mood crack guiltily, rubbing a hand across his own. “No. Fuck, I don’t know! Sorry. It’s honestly not you. I’m not at my best right now or my nicest. Guess I’m not used to that now either. People don’t normally watch me like that. Well, not when I’m away from work.”
“You have a nice mouth.” The earnest manner in which Harry will say these things startles a giggle out of him as he slides closer to Louis, hands in his pockets and biting his lip. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”
“Yeah...”
“Why?”
“Because - ” he says then realises he doesn’t have anything else in mind. This up close, Harry’s eyes are green but could almost pass for blue in certain light, maybe if he steps to the side or raises his chin a fraction more to catch the sparkle and reflect the pool water next to them. His hair flops effortlessly in thick waves wherever Harry wants it to go except for the stubborn curls by his ears and his mouth, his mouth is obscene, a deep blushing pink. Louis has no idea why Harry would want to watch his form words. This up close, he feels drawn in, mesmerised, as the damp on his skin makes him shiver and he feels a little unsteady. “Not - that’s not the right word exactly.” He admits breathily. “It’s just you make me want to - I want to - Harry, can I - ”
“Louis?”
Jolted so hard from the moment that that’s not Harry’s voice but Andrew’s, he blinks wildly and stumbles back a step, forcing a smile onto his face. He notices as he turns that Harry barely moves, unconcerned. Shit! He’d almost just...well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. “Babe, hi! Aren’t you supposed to be in court all day?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your tour?” he replies tersely. “But of course, here you are having your own pool party. Is this a romantic time for two or can anyone join in? Hell, maybe you’d like that. Sorry, for the interruption.”
“Andrew, wait!” Louis calls, rushing after him.
The tiles in the corridor are cool on his bare feet as he hurriedly tries to wrap the towel around his waist and water slowly drips from his legs. His boyfriend rounds on him before he can say anything else, face pinched.
“What’s he doing here? Shouldn’t he be making the teas for your father like a good little office boy?” he hisses, like it’s all one big inconvenience. “My case this afternoon was adjourned. I thought maybe we could go out for lunch, but I see you have plans already.”
“I dunno why you’re being like this or what’s going on with him - ”
“ - He was probably watching you swim, the goddamn creep,” he sneers.
“ - But obviously my dad, your boss,” Louis reminds pointedly, “has his reasons. Don’t take it out on me because you’ve been replaced.”
“Are you going to replace me too? Go on the charm offensive?” Andrew looks him over once, but it feels far from complimentary. “It wouldn’t surprise me, the way you’re flaunting yourself in nothing but shorts the size of a postage stamp.”
He rolls his eyes, exasperated. “I thought I was on my own in my dad’s house! What, are you jealous?”
“It’s not about that. I don’t like the way he looks at you, I don’t like the way he talks to you. Stop being so slutty, Louis.”
Andrew’s nostrils flare as they stare each other down, but Louis finally understands where this has felt like its going and, if he’s honest with himself, it’s probably been a long time coming. His gaze narrows.
“And there we have it. Cheers, really. I can’t believe you’d actually - after everything...” he snorts humourlessly. “Well, d’you know what? It’s tough shit because I like the way he looks and talks to me and, for your information, there’s nothing ‘slutty’ about it. At least he wants to know what I have to say, which you don’t seem to anymore. I’m there to look pretty and not bother you. I thought we could move on from that and I’ve been trying so hard since I came back from tour, but instead I feel like such a fucking idiot. You haven’t touched me or let me touch you in so long.”
He scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous. I kiss you every morning.”
“Yeah, saying goodbye with a bloody peck! I need more. I’m worth more.”
Apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Andrew’s posture straightens, his tall stature reminiscent of the man Louis’ been trying not to let invade his every thought. However, his eyes aren’t inquisitive and magnetic. They’re dark and bottomless as his expression hardens. “Have you been going behind my back? Is that what this is?”
“What? With Harry? No!” he inhales sharply, finally hearing out loud what Andrew thought the minute he learnt that they’d already met.
“Because I’m sure he’d love to know all your dirty secrets before things get serious, wouldn't he?” he says before Louis can come out of his disbelief and get a word in edgeways. “How about that I plucked you from your silly boyband and showed you what the real good life is? So you didn’t have to sneak around, whoring yourself out every night to pretentious, coke-addled twats who had no idea that you could do so much better than them? That you told me the thought of being with a man full of experience and ambition really turned you on? Or how you still beg to be fucked until you’re screaming, sticking your arse in the air like the willing hole you are because the truth is, even after all that, any cock will do for you, won’t it?”
Louis blinks like he’s been slapped, his throat closing up. Horrified, he can no longer speak. He guesses that means they’re not having a simple disagreement over a house guest.
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks and I’m really tired of yours.” he continues with a sigh, as if Louis is that disappointingly inept pet. “I’m tired of you nagging me, of your flirting, how you’re gagging for every scrap of attention. It’s needy, it’s pathetic and it’s immaturity at its highest, darling. Don’t come crying to me when you inevitably return to your senses and realise Mr Harry Styles is a jumped up little boy in a shit suit. We’re done here. Goodnight.”
Finished with that and, it seems, with Louis, he picks up his briefcase by his feet and makes his exit. His expensive shoes squeak on the floor.
“Goodnight.” Louis mutters to his feet, crushed despite the fury boiling inside.
He takes a few deep breaths and thinks it’s a faint echo of Andrew’s shoes that he can hear until, behind him, he hears Harry’s rumbling voice.
“He is definitely not a gentleman.” He’s close enough that it feels like the warmth in the air between them is from his body and a whisper of his lips at Louis’ ear. “He should never, ever talk to you in that way. I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, well that makes two of us. I should’ve known once the novelty wore off that things would be...different.” he shrugs, wriggling his toes and still clutching at his towel. He looks to his right side, but can’t quite turn all the way round. “Thanks though, I do appreciate it. I guess this means I have one less thing to worry about. Single again. Yay.”
From such blatant sarcasm, Harry curls his big, warm hand onto his shoulder. “He didn’t deserve you.”
Louis daren’t face him properly, not when he still feels on the brink of a good cry. Things are so bad and a great relief at the same time, which makes for some confusing emotions that he fancies ignoring for the immediate future. Thankfully, he’s wet and covered in goosebumps so, whilst it’s probably rude to end the situation like this right now, he manages a tiny smile at Harry before hastily leaving to go put some clothes on.
--
The next time Louis sees Harry, it’s a surprise.
“My dad let you go for the rest of the day? Just like that? What are you?” he laughs, eyebrows cocked. “How did you do it?”
“I have my ways.” he smiles.
It’s odd because Louis totally believes him. Harry and his dad always look like they’re scheming and confiding, especially since things ended between him and Andrew, and yet it never feels like he is trying to suck up. Louis knows he pretty much has his parents wrapped around his little finger and he’s in awe that Harry appears to have the same gift.
He’d been walking through the park nearest his house, having taken his sisters off his mum’s hands for a while, and felt happiness bubble inside him as he saw Harry ambling towards them. He wanted to laugh at him strolling around still dressed impeccably and yet he looks so smart and sure of himself that it’s a grin that overtakes his face instead. Tension he didn’t know was stored in his shoulders seeps out as nobody seems particularly interested that Harry is there without their father, beyond the twins’ silent, inquisitive glances. Out of the corner of his eye, as they start walking towards a playground in the middle distance, Louis thinks he sees Lottie roll her eyes, but it could’ve been at something on her phone so he chooses to ignore her. She seems to have gotten past her casual crush since the first night Harry met the family and if she won’t blithely make deliberate assumptions to annoy Louis then he won’t tease her about being glued to that thing she calls a lifeline.
“I asked the boys if they wanted to come,” he explains because his mind is otherwise unnaturally blank of conversation and they’re always good to fall back on, “but no dice, so unfortunately it’s only me and this rabble. Zayn said he had to do more in his graffiti room - I swear that guy’s obsessed - and Liam’s got family down. Niall was too lazy, probably; he hasn’t answered my text yet.”
Walking just in front of them, Daisy’s short pigtails whip round. “Is Niall coming? Please say he is! Please!”
He mouths to Harry massive crush then turns to his sister, smoothing her hair. “I don’t know, babe, he didn’t say. Maybe.”
“Phoebe!” she shrieks, running to catch up to her twin ahead with her other sisters.
“Oi!” Louis yells after her, laughing, “I’m not carrying you back to the house if you fall and break something! Be careful!”
He will admit that he relaxes when Daisy reaches the three who have stopped and are waiting for her, mostly so his mum won’t kill him when he’s supposed to be the responsible big brother and adult. He doesn’t have to be near to hear their chattering either, Phoebe clutching at her sister’s arms as they all loudly tease her about how she likes Niall best. It’s very cute, but Louis has to hide his sniggering and distract them with something else before it turns into a metaphorical bloodbath of twins defending against the rest. He physically steps into the middle of them, passing the ball he brought with him between his hands.
“Alright, who’s up for a game of football?”
--
They don’t play football.
Louis gets outvoted, which is entirely unfair and Harry was no help at all when he smirked and admitted that he was crap at it. Compromising, Fizzy and Lottie agreed to push the twins on the swings if it meant that their brother left them alone for five minutes. Louis would’ve protested indignantly but somehow couldn’t find the words when Harry threw his arm happily around his shoulder and promised the girls - his girls, damn it, the traitors - that he and Louis would be sitting nearby if they were needed. This time, Louis definitely catches Lottie’s smirk as he’s led away to the first bench they see.
“They’re fine, Louis,” he chuckles, taking a seat, “Look, we can see them from here and everything. They won’t run off with strangers, really.”
He has half a mind to say that the twins might before he realises that this isn’t like when he was a teenager anymore. It’s natural that in his absence, the two next eldest will have taken on his role somewhat and whilst this is London and not Doncaster, he probably has nothing to worry about when they look after each other so effortlessly. He comes back to himself to see Harry’s grin as he pats the space beside him and Louis finally accepts with a coy smile. It quickly tries to turn his cheeks pink too because, for a few seconds, his body is pressed up against Harry’s from shoulder to elbow to thigh and knee, but he fights it with a cough, feeling just as nervous with his clothes on as he did dripping wet and half naked.
“So c’mon then,” he tries, tucking his leg underneath himself to put some distance between them. “Tell me all about Harry Styles.”
Harry shrugs minutely. “Nothing to tell. I’m...Harry.” Louis giggles and lifts his elbow onto the back of the bench, leaning his head on his hand. He bats his long eyelashes comically until Harry raises his eyebrows a little. He seems to make every move count. “Okay. Do you want to hear a secret?”
Louis lights up. “Oh god, do I? Is it juicy? Is it about someone else? Do I know them?”
“It’s about me. All you need to know is sometimes I - ” he pauses, eyes bright and concentrated, as if to check that Louis really wants to know, whilst he feels that tug low in his stomach once more, pushing him even closer to Harry. “Sometimes, in my line of work, I wonder whether I’m leaving enough time to really pay attention to everything else, to understand and appreciate what’s going on around me.”
Quite what a student who wants a career in law has missed from his life, Louis doesn’t know, but he can certainly relate. “Yeah,” he nods, looking over to his sisters, “sorry to say I think I know what you mean. I love my job, but I hate feeling like I’m out of the loop on other things. I thought I was starting to get the balance, but obviously I didn’t even pick the right guy to be serious about.”
“Don’t say that.” Harry covers the hand that’s resting on his bent knee, capturing Louis’ attention again. “It wasn’t your fault he had no manners.”
Hypnotised by the slow blink and easy sincerity, Louis feels the need to fidget but the thought of pulling the focus down to their resting hands makes the will to blush even stronger. He’s lucky that it rarely shows on his face, but he’s not so sure about the hopeless hearts. Harry’s just so lovely all the time.
“You’re being nice, yeah? That’s all this is?”
“Why’d you ask?”
“Because this is too good to be true. Nobody looks perfect, sounds perfect and acts like the perfect gentleman.” Louis swallows hard, eyes widening. “Shit, you’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you?”
Harry shakes his head and smiles enough to the side that one dimple pops.
“Boyfriend?”
“No. I don’t have a boyfriend, Louis.” he replies calmly, brushing down his legs as he stands.
“Louis! Louis! We want sweets!” a duet of voices suddenly prevents him from doing more than stare dumbly at Harry as he takes in the news that this guy is single. “Can we get sweets? Please? Pretty please! Louis?”
“I think you should answer them before they explode.” he smirks, changing from serene to mischievous in a split second.
“Sorry, girls.” he tells them regretfully, getting to his feet and taking the twins’ hands to soften the blow, “Mum would kill me and I don’t want to miss the only Sunday roast I’ll probably get to have this year.”
He thinks he hears a mumbled joking retort of “selfish!” from one of the other two, but refuses to be drawn because nothing is more important to him today than roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding.
Since the twins have had enough, they leave the playground in the park behind and head back to Louis’s house. He has half a mind to invite Harry to tea, so he’s deliberately hung back from his sisters to have some privacy to ask except Harry appears to have other ideas.
“Thank you for the company, Louis,” he nods at him and something in Louis’ chest flutters giddily at the thought of him performing a gracious little bow, all buttoned up to match his attitude to correct behaviour. It’s possible that he’s dangerously close to morphing into a real life Prince Charming in Louis’ head. He watches him also turn to regard his sisters, who are gathered around them both now that they’re stood idly in the driveway. “I enjoyed our walk very much. Good afternoon, ladies. Good afternoon, Louis.”
“But!” he blurts out before he can control himself, struggling to ask at the last minute. “don’t - stay. I mean, you should stay. For tea. Here. At my house. My mum. She won’t mind.”
No, just a man she’s never met being invited to eat food she’s cooked with no prior notice whatsoever. Well, if the shoe fits for his dad...
“Smooth, Lou, smooth.” Fizzy mutters, nudging him hard in the back.
His heart sinks when Harry shakes his head in a no because he wants to know so much more about him after today and what better way over a meal (okay, it’s with four sisters and his mother, so not exactly ideal) but he’s shocked out of his disappointment as Harry tugs on the hand he was holding out in a futile attempt to stop him leaving, sending him bumping into Harry’s firm chest.
“May I kiss you goodbye?” he whispers in a low voice, already mostly there.
It’s one of the increasingly many reasons Louis likes him so much so soon. He asks and he waits and he focuses on Louis like he’s truly someone who matters, who deserves to be heard and taken care of. It’s pretty irresistible and a touch wild because Louis feels invincible when he’s with him and there’s only one answer to his question as he lets want wash over him. He gives his nod of permission and Harry raises warm hands to his face, dropping his chin to connect their lips. Louis’ helpless, just has to be delicately kissed, then, after a few seconds, eases his mouth away with great difficulty because unfortunately, he’s all too aware that they still have a bloody audience behind them. The burn of sudden shyness and embarrassment at last blots high onto his cheeks as he struggles to turn his eyes from Harry. Daisy and Phoebe are giggling behind their hands, apparently finding the whole thing funny, but there’s no such luck with the older two, if their wide stares are anything to go by.
“Mum’s probably waiting...” he prompts, eyeballing them unsubtly, “And it’s getting cold. You should go inside. I’ll be there in a second.”
“Unlikely.” Lottie snorts, but helps to usher everyone into the house anyway.
Finally alone, Louis’ too...everything to look at him again, even though they haven’t let go of each other physically. Too nervous, too excited, too surprised, too hopeful. Too busy wishing for another kiss like the first. With perhaps less courteous tenderness and more tongue. He quickly starts to count his breaths and his heartbeats, getting mixed up, when he feels the tip of Harry’s nose nuzzle into his neck. Its cold, making him shiver, and that’s the only reason.
“I meant it y’know.” he says, placing his hands against Harry’s narrow waist to mimic the hold he has on him. “You’re welcome to stay for tea. You’ve already met my dad and my sisters. You could come in and meet my mum, complete the set, although that might not be such an easy ride. She might interrogate you a bit.”
He knows he’s talking rubbish from the way he laughs kindly and Louis wants to bury his face in his broad body as he feels a kiss to his temple, but distance is beginning to separate them. Now that he’s had a taste of resolving the interesting, crackling tension between them, it’s not enough to satisfy and he can’t help how he almost leans on tiptoes to prolong the second kiss Harry presses to his mouth. It’s not deep or long, although he finds himself slightly breathless from it all the same.
“I love your lips, so soft. I love your kisses. We should certainly do this again sometime.” Harry whispers into his parted lips, tongue catching slightly as he licks his own. “You’re wonderful, Louis, thank you. I’ll see you soon.”
He blinks hazily, his body empty, as Harry’s warmth moves gracefully from his grip. He doesn’t wait until he’s out of sight to go inside.
He’s not that silly from a kiss or two.
--
(Continues here.)
Pairing: Louis/Harry; (minor) OMC/Louis
Part: 1/2
Rating: NC-17 to be safe
Word Count: ~19,300
Summary: Louis is in One Direction with Niall, Liam and Zayn. One day he meets Harry, a law student, by chance and it scares him how their instant connection feels so right. However, for Harry, there's still a big twist that's yet to come... AKA the one where Louis is famous, Harry is not and love is eventually found at the right time, the right place and with the right person. (Meet Joe Black AU)
Warning(s): Personification of death.
Disclaimer: I do not know these people in reality, it isn't true and not meant to offend. The beauty of fictional constructs. All I own is my original character, even if he is a total jerk.
A/N: This is so self-indulgent and took way longer than it should have. As I said in the summary, it's very very very loosely based on just the love story in the film Meet Joe Black. Don't spoil yourself if you haven't seen it, read my fic first and then go watch it because I do recommend the full thing lol. Comments are always love. <3
It is said through myth and time that Death comes in many guises.
Death is frightening, Death is wings and fire and multiple faces.
Death is peaceful, Death is warm breeze and sunshine and the brightest angel.
It’s hard to tell which until you’ve seen it.
Perhaps...
Death could be anyone.
--
They meet on a balmy Friday morning as Louis sits down in the back of what must be the tiniest café in the world, never mind London. At least it seems that way because no one ever follows him here.
He and the boys are in the city for a couple of weeks break before flying off to resume their tour and it’s one of Louis’ favourite things to come to this place before his brain is barely functioning to gorge on the biggest, greasiest fry up known to mankind. Mark, their group personal trainer, would probably string him up by his balls if he caught wind of such a calorific catastrophe but luckily Louis has a stretch of about a week on his side. Plenty of time to eat a bone-dry salad to compensate.
His time in the corner is blissfully quiet, only punctuated by food and kitchen sounds that are easy to drown out with idle thoughts, until the door opens and the sudden whoosh of air and noise blows in a cackle of a laugh. The short nature makes Louis’ head snap up from playing around with his phone to see the person it belongs to, a young man with one hand over his mouth for a second to catch his amusement a beat too late and the other clutching his mobile to his ear.
“I know, I know - ” Louis hears, as he nods along and strides over to the little queue by the till, “ - but your threats only make me laugh because you’re brilliant. You shouldn’t forget that, okay? I’m sorry he made you forget that.”
Louis tries to pull his tired eyes away, he honestly does, but sue him he’s intrigued. Besides, the young man doesn’t seem to have any qualms about eavesdropping because he is talking pretty unabashed. He’s not being loud and obnoxious as such, but his deep, impassioned voice carries in the tiny café. Louis would hazard a guess that he cares immensely for whoever is on the other end of the line.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous too; leggy and broad-shouldered in a dark grey suit and white shirt. His slightly unruly, curly hair is about the only thing that’s at odds with such a crisp image, although somehow that makes him approachable with an air of being very much at home in his own skin. He’s definitely young too; his profile clean-shaven and his posture easy like someone with the enthusiasm of just starting out.
Quickly, he turns his head as he’s one person before placing his order, as if checking where he could sit if he wanted to and his gaze snags on Louis for a millisecond. It’s the push that Louis needs to quit staring, looking down sharply into his lap to realise with an inward groan that he’s lost all his Candy Crush lives again.
“I wish I could come see you, babe,” the young man clucks soothingly, dropping his voice to something more intimate. A twinge of sympathy flashes brightly in Louis’ chest, connecting with memories of phone calls to his sisters as they’ve sat thousands of miles apart. “I’m starting this morning but I could - okay, okay, I won’t, I promise. I promise!” he giggles, actually giggles, and Louis gives up completely on not listening because he’s not hiding a thing and he’s just so sweet. “I love you so much - yeah - tell them I said hi - you’re so strong, please remember that. He doesn’t deserve you - mmhm, yup - love you lots, bye.”
With a forlorn little sigh, he slides his long limbs into a seat by the counter, apparently choosing to have his breakfast on a high chair and small space rather than take one of the last empty booths for himself. Somehow it makes Louis feel a tad ridiculous for sitting on his own on seats made for four and his face is hot as the waitress plonks down his fry up and he manages to utter a croaky “cheers,” as she walks away.
He eats far quicker than he normally would and the time seems to tick by just as fast if his text messages are anything to go by, Liam already checking to see how he is and Niall begging him to go to a Derby game on the last day of their break, but he keeps throwing furtive glances to the man in the chair in front of him, his hips narrow and knees pressed primly together. Curiosity has always been one of Louis’ greatest assets and biggest flaws, but a stranger is probably a no-go area, no matter how pretty he is, so Louis tries to calm himself and resigns to paying and then going back to his house to play FIFA in his boxers for the rest of the day, probably.
Except.
“Hi.”
Louis blinks, surprised. “Er, hi.”
“I saw you looking over earlier. Sorry if I was talking loudly.” he says but he grins and leans in like it’s a secret that Louis heard him and not the several other customers dotted nearby as well. “I get a bit carried away with my pep talks sometimes.”
“No worries,” Louis shrugs, “I’m sure your ‘babe’ appreciated it and that’s what matters, I guess. Or so I’ve been told.”
“It’s my big sister,” he sighs again and Louis can feel his eyebrows shoot up, lucky that the guy is staring at his half finished plate, “Boyfriend troubles. I know she can deal with him perfectly fine by herself, but I’m her brother y’know? Can’t help it. I just want her to be happy, not dicked around by pricks like him.”
It’s a little heavy and over-sharing between two strangers but he looks genuinely crestfallen with his big green eyes and furrowed brow. It’s so endearing and Louis finds his hand placed on his shoulder before he can stop himself, his other hand pocketing his change from his order. “I’m a brother too, so I definitely know what you mean.”
“Oh yeah? To how many?”
“Four younger sisters.”
He whistles lowly, eyes wide. “Shit, you must think I’m such an amateur.”
“No!” Louis smiles, giving him a squeeze before he drops his hand into his jacket pocket, “The opposite, actually. I’ve not had the pleasure of experiencing arsehole boyfriends with them yet and I’m dreading the day I will. I want them to stay tiny and cute and innocent forever.”
A hand finally stretches out towards him. “I should’ve said this before, but I kind of got distracted by everything. I’m Harry. And you’re Louis from One Direction.” Louis closes his mouth as Harry raises his - wow, massive - hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged, I know who you are.”
Louis snorts, “Who doesn’t,” then quickly checks himself, scratching at his neck. “Um, that was a joke and not a very good one. I’m not that - I don’t think - ”
“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, grinning. “You make a very valid point. Your face is everywhere. But it’s cool. It’s a nice face.” Louis coughs out a single huff of a laugh, his brain still sluggish and knocked for six by such bold flirting. He’s lost for words in the precious seconds it takes for Harry to grow a kernel of embarrassment and Louis already hates that he put it there. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so - forward and I don’t want to make you anymore uncomfortable, but - would you like some tea? Just as a mediocre, lukewarm apology?”
Louis looks at the small metal teapot he’s holding then to Harry’s open expression. The thought of crap café tea makes him shudder. There’s an empty chair right next to Harry.
He sits down.
--
“ - And that’s how we ended up in Miami, on a ridiculously expensive yacht that our big boss hired for us, buzzed off our tits and laughing like hyena-children over fuck all.” Louis finishes his tale grandly, taking another sip from his cup before leaning back into his chair. “We were hoping to make it a nice bonding thing but the paps probably caught us. They usually do, they’re everywhere.”
Harry blinks at him, chewing the last of his breakfast in the silence but also like he’s weighing up his words carefully. “Wow,” he breathes eventually, “that sounds - ”
“ - Annoying?” Louis nods, “Yeah, sometimes.”
“No, no, I wasn’t - ” Harry starts, shaking his head, “I was going to say lonely. It sounds...lonely.”
“I’ve got my boys and I love my job, the singing and the performing,” he replies, automatically defensive as well as a little self-conscious, like he doesn’t think he has any right to complain even if he wanted to. “It’s all I need really.”
“But they have girlfriends, right? Your bandmates?” They stare at each other for a beat. “What about you? You mentioned everyone else’s someone, but...do you get lonely?”
Louis flounders, caught off guard. “I, uh - ”
“Sorry!” Harry’s wide mouth twists as he pulls a face, giggling to break the awkwardness. “There I go again. It’s a habit; I like to work people out. In fact, it’s kind of essential for me, for what I want to do.”
“And that is?”
“Law. It’s my first week on a placement and I think I’m going law-mad, so excuse me if I’m too...intense.”
“Somehow I doubt that’s completely law’s doing. That seems to come naturally to you.” Louis says dryly, watching Harry blush pink for a second. “I can see you up there already, on the stand, interrogating some poor sod into confessing why he killed his best friend’s-nephew’s-son’s pet parrot.”
“Witnesses go on the stand, not me!” Harry cackles, nearly falling backwards from the force of it. “But then I think you did that on purpose? You’re funny. Funny and a nice face. I lucked out this morning, didn’t I?”
Louis steadies him as he fights the smile that threatens to burst onto his nice face because he should stop this, really put his foot down that they shouldn’t flirt like this and in public no less. Anyone could overhear them and that’s how Louis justifies it as he shifts closer and drops his voice, shielding his mouth with his hand as he hovers by Harry’s cheek. He tries to watch Louis sidelong as well as take in what he’s saying and it’s suddenly intimate, but it’ll cancel itself out if Louis just -
“I am seeing someone.” he whispers frantically, “I’m not lonely. It’s - he’s - he’s a...he.”
Harry clears his throat. “Oh. Well, that’s great! Is that why you don’t - why you didn’t mention - ?”
“Yeah, we’d rather keep it...our business y’know? He works for my dad.” Louis’ nose scrunches, thoughtful. “Stepdad. Former stepdad. Fuck if I know what to call him anymore. He moved here, to London, when he and my mum got divorced and Andrew - that’s my...him - relocated too, as if he thought, I don’t know, he’d get to see me more this way. He’s...dependable like that.”
“You say it like that’s a bad thing,” Harry nudges him with his elbow until Louis stops staring at his hands and looks up. “Dependable,” he mocks in a terrible imitation of Louis’ broader northern accent, “like its italicised and everything.”
“I don’t mean to,” he sighs, realising he’s dangerously close to spilling too many feelings to a virtual stranger. “Andrew’s...”
Intelligent.
Grown up.
Boring.
“Older.” Louis’ relieved to feel a little grin. “It was exciting at first, some sophisticated high-flyer chasing after little ol’ me,”
“Louis, you’re a popstar!” Harry laughs, incredulous.
“No,” he says firmly, “to him I was - I am - his boss’ son. Stepson. Whatever. But I guess that must’ve been exciting for him too.”
“I can’t help but notice there’s a lot of past tense going on here...”
“I am still with him. It’s just...” he fiddles with the handle on his plain white teacup, “...Mum always told me this thing when I was little, this great big speech about how when I was older she wanted to me to find someone who would make me deliriously happy, who’d sweep me off my feet and love me as crazy as I would love them. I thought it’d change when I came out, but all she did was say it again, with added tears...” He’s lost for a moment in the memory, one key phrase sticking in his mind like he’d heard the words only yesterday. He glances up, aware that he’d zoned out, but Harry’s listening as intently as before. “She told me to stay open, to forget my head and listen to my heart because one day, maybe - ”
“ - Lightning could strike. ” Harry finishes for him, gentle and awed.
Eyes wide in astonishment, Louis knows he could say a million things to that if he hadn’t had his voice knocked out of him by someone who knew what he was going to say. How did that happen?
He doesn’t say I feel like it genuinely struck me right now for the first time in my entire life.
He doesn’t say I don’t think Andrew’s even close to being someone I see myself with five years in the future, never mind forever.
What he says is:
“I have to go.”
Louis drains the last of his cup, raising it wordlessly to Harry in thanks, who hasn’t said anything more, and goes to leave but he’s only one step away from the chair when his arm is tugged back and he can’t help it, he turns his head. Harry makes him want to turn his head. It frightens him to the core.
He smiles softly, all dimpled sunshine. “I’ll walk you out. I should leave for work anyway.”
Louis lets him, but he’s in front as they get to the exit, thank god, and so doesn’t have to feel like Harry’s doing anything especially for him, such as holding the door open and acting like a gentleman on a first date. Still, his upbringing forces him to not leave things on rude terms and he forces his feet to face Harry’s way as they stand outside the café to say goodbye.
“It was nice meeting you, Harry,” he says, genuine. “Thanks for the tea.”
“Any time. I like this place. I think I like London. I like you. Hey,” he takes a step forward, aborting a move to reach for Louis’ wrist when he sees the tetchy storm on his face. “I didn’t mean to freak you out in there, I’m sorry. I heard that too and I wanted you to know that you’re not alone and that your mum sounds like a smart woman and it’s - ”
Louis gives him a little push in his stomach, slowly grinning despite himself. “Stop apologising. I’m not made of glass. People do still tell me no and the truth and things that kind of make me question...Anyway,” he asserts quickly, seemingly shaking himself out of saying more, “I really do have to leave. I’ve got a smart woman and some shrieking rascals coming to visit. Bye, Harry.”
This smiley law student beams again like Louis isn’t bailing way too many hours before he needs to. “See you around, Louis.”
It’s a lot more open-ended than goodbye but it’s how he wants it and Louis can’t tell him to change that, change him. Even if he feels like he wants to run away and hide and never think about this precious morning again. Because of this, See you around, Louis plays looped in his brain like a traitor as he heads down the street. He’s sure he’s imagining Harry burning holes into the back of his head as they walk in opposite directions and he chances a quick glance over his shoulder against his better judgement. However, he’s actually not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when he sees the mop of curls not turned, confirming that it was indeed in his own imagination. He has no idea of the game they’re playing. A little to-and-fro act that Harry is as clueless about. They never catch each other’s eyes again. Louis fails to see him stand still a little longer, unwittingly love-struck in the middle of the road, staring after him as if it’ll make a difference and Louis will magically turn around and notice the gesture. Well, it will make a difference, but not one either will have expected.
Louis rounds the corner, out of sight, to the distant screech of tyres.
--
The funny thing is, it wasn’t a lie that he had to quickly leave the café that morning as he’d already stayed far longer than he usually would, purely because Harry was so nice and so very attractive. He can admit to himself that it was lovely while it lasted, but his life has everything it needs and he’s not downhearted at all. He has a job he loves, friends he’d do anything for, a boyfriend who’s a great stabilising influence and a family he adores with all of his heart.
And his mum and sisters are coming to see him today.
A couple of hours later, the wall of chatter and laughter as they get out of their car always hits Louis like running into an oncoming ocean wave - exhilarating and full of joy because he gets to hug his mum and look at his sisters with a helpless smile, see how they’re growing up so fast. Sometimes when he’s away for long stretches of time it feels like he’s missing out and it stings, but technology is something of a saviour to him and his boys.
“Oi oi, look at you!” he beams, as the twins rush forwards from his driveway and HE pulls one - who happens to be Phoebe - straight up into his arms, “God, I think you’ve officially got too big for this, babe.”
“No! Don’t say that, stupid!” she shrieks right into his ear, making him wince.
He gnashes his teeth at the little palm clumsily covering his mouth. “Rude, but okay, forget I said anything.”
He is so easy for this lot, it’s tragic. He looks up just as his mum puts one of the bags on the ground and reaches out an arm to yank him forward. He instinctively tightens his grip on his sister through a laugh, pretending to wheeze for breath as he receives the cuddle of a lifetime.
“How’s my baby?” Jay smiles, keeping her hand cupped around the back of his head.
“Fine!” the twins chirp before he can say a word, Phoebe wriggling until Louis lets her down to high five her sister.
Maybe he did that with them slightly too much when they were younger. “Cheeky monkeys! She’s talking to me!”
“You’re not a baby,”
“I didn’t think you were either,” he retorts, pinching Daisy’s nose in a fake steal.
“I don’t know,” Felicite adds, faux-thoughtful with a definite glint in her eye. She’s dyed her hair and he can see how she’s grown a tiny bit taller as she stands patiently behind his mum with Lottie, who’s tapping away at her phone like she’s completely above this outdoor reunion. “You can be sometimes.”
Louis makes a face at her. “Shut it, smelly head,”
“Make me, vombucket,”
“Vom - ” he cuts himself off, impressed with a little nod, “alright, I’ll give you that one.”
“Okay, everyone, let’s take this inside, shall we?” Jay shakes her head at them all fondly, shouldering the bag by her feet again and carrying two rucksacks. How long are they staying for, a month? “Darling, lead the way.”
Louis places his hands on either side of his front door, blocking it. “Hmm, what’s the password?”
Her eyes narrow. “Mum’s the word.”
“Passwords shouldn’t have spaces, but okay,” he grins, moving away and into his house as they follow.
It’s good to be back.
--
It’s barely an hour into their visit when Jay gets a call on her mobile. Her children whine, Louis included, because she promised that work wouldn’t need her as she’d be hundreds of miles away in bloody London but frowns when she doesn’t recognise the number. Louis ushers his sisters into the kitchen with his own promises about treats in the fridge to give his mother some privacy.
She’s quick to return, but her face is serious as Louis is the first to catch her eye. In fact, she looks completely shaken and suddenly pale.
“Mum?” he asks, careful to keep his voice steady and not cause any unnecessary panic between his younger siblings. “Everything alright?”
Her head twitches then she swallows heavily. “Your dad’s been rushed to hospital.”
“He's what?” He feels like the rug’s been pulled out from underneath his feet, fragments of thoughts colliding. “Why are you - what’s with the - but he’s not our problem anymore!”
He’s shocked the second the words tumble out of him, but not as shocked as his mother, her eyes flashing warningly and her lips a thin, tight line. “Louis William Tomlinson, you apologise for that right this second - ”
“Shit.” he whispers, his whole body starting to tremble as he slaps a hand to his mouth, “I’m sorry, I - I didn’t - it’s not - Mum - ”
Jay crosses the kitchen in two strides and gives him a quick squeeze with a kiss to his hair, “Hey, shh, alright, take it easy. I suppose apology accepted. I could never resist that face. Now come on, we have to go see what’s happening. Help me with the girls.”
Pushing down the churning in his gut, Louis plants his hands on top of Lottie and Fizzy’s heads to annoy them. “Okay then, you lot! We’re going on an unplanned adventure.”
The twins cheer uproariously, enough that it hides Lottie’s frantic whispering to him and Fizzy’s accompanying worried face. Louis slips his hands down to their shoulders and gathers them close to his sides, purely so he feels less like he’s going to float away. Or throw up.
--
Still, something about the last year and a half turns him into a little shit once they’re told in the family room at St Luke’s that their father and ex-husband had suffered a heart attack. He knows it’s borne out of fear that’s not even that hidden, fear of losing his dad for good, but he can’t make himself stop once he knows the guy is not on his deathbed and will just need to take it easy, change his life slightly before his body decides to give him a bigger warning.
Louis folds his arms across his chest and looks at his feet. “No. I’m fine. You go first.”
He can see Lottie and Fizzy ahead of their mum, Jay stood between them and him, as he apparently chooses not to see his father with the rest of them.
“Don’t be silly; come on.” she sighs when he stubbornly shakes his head. “Lou bear, he’s your dad.”
“So you keep saying.” he mutters, biting his thumbnail with a frown. “And stop calling me that. It's no better than Boo Bear. In fact, I hate anything to do with bears and my name so quit saying it, yeah?”
“You’re acting like a bear with a sore head,” Lottie puts in gleefully from behind Jay’s back.
Louis rolls his eyes as his mother turns to her eldest daughter, “Hey, that’s enough. Go see your dad and I’ll be with you in a minute, thank you, sweetheart. Take your sisters too. I want a word with Louis alone.”
His sister pokes her tongue out at him before she leaves, brightly telling the twins “let’s go see Daddy!” as they push open the door to walk down the corridor. At least he has a private room. He’s doing pretty well for himself in the city these days and can afford to flash the cash a bit. Not as much as Louis obviously but then that particular comparison is unfair.
He feels a touch to his cheek and realises he’s been staring at the door of which beyond lies the only man he’s ever thought of as his honest to god father, recovering from a heart attack. All of a sudden, his knees feel a bit wobbly.
“What’s gotten into you today, Lou?”
He sits down hard in the first seat, not even sure he’ll connect with it, and scrubs his hands over his face a few times. “I had a really weird morning.” he says from between his fingers, trying to breathe, “I dunno, it scared me shitless and it’s stupid.”
“I know I probably frightened you in the kitchen, but sometimes I forget who I’m talking to. You’re so grown up now y’know, my baby first born.” Jay takes the seat beside him and strokes a hand through his fringe. “Listen to me, Dad’s gonna be fine. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
For a second, Louis wants to tell her that’s not entirely what he meant, he wants to tell her about Harry, that he knew about lightning striking and love and passion that is forever, but he knows it’s not the right time. Besides, he’s not supposed to be inappropriately obsessing over other men he barely knows. He’s in a committed relationship. By the same token, he knows why he wants to spill. She likes Andrew well enough, but Louis’ always got the impression that a tiny part of her thinks he doesn’t quite fit with her son or their family as a whole. For example, he’s not exactly the type to let the twins slather him in makeup and put pins in his carefully coiffed hair.
“I don’t want him to leave again,” he says quietly into her shoulder and there it is, the black cloud looming above. “Like, permanently.”
“Oh baby,” she clucks, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s alright. He’ll be right as rain in no time, you’ll see.”
He melts into her embrace enough that he believes it.
--
Things are almost back to normal a few days later.
The morning Louis’ dad was discharged from hospital, he told his children that he wanted them all to come to dinner at his house. With his usually hectic schedule, Louis can’t remember how many months it’s been since it happened last and everyone agrees. Jay stays at Louis’, fending off her son’s worry at being excluded by telling him that they needed some time with their other parent, followed by some deliberate mushy stuff about the brand new man in her life and how she was going to spend her evening using this invention named the phone. In moments like those, clearly Louis sees where he got his wit from.
So here they are - Louis and his dad, his siblings and Andrew. Somehow the fact that Andrew is amazing at his job has always seemingly got more attention from his dad than him sleeping with his son and it makes Louis feel pretty mundane. Thank god for his flighty career as a jet-setting popstar!
“Where are you off to next, Louis?” he asks right on cue from across the table.
“Australia.” he smiles, fond memories taking over for a second. “Me and Liam are gonna do so much surfing again.”
“Is that wise?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” he shoots back, quirking an eyebrow at Andrew eating primly next to him.
He’s still in a suit and tie, making Louis feel decidedly underdressed in his jeans and low neck t-shirt. Andrew pats his hand as it rests on the fancy tablecloth.
“I’d rather you didn’t get hurt that’s all. Who knows what’s lurking in the water over there.”
Louis tries to find his concern touching rather than patronising. He falls a little short. “I can look after myself, thanks. Hey, I think I heard the door?”
Letting the subject go, he reaches for his drinking glass that isn’t even empty and has no intention of going to the door (even though he actually thinks he heard the doorbell). Instead, he gets up from his seat and walks into the kitchen to get away for a second. Also before he has the chance to say something he might regret.
Intelligent.
Grown up.
Boring.
Not meant to be.
He growls under his breath the minute his thoughts from his conversation with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named pops into his head for the first time in a few days. Admittedly, he’s had more pressing matters to deal with since then, like his father suffering a heart attack in the middle of a meeting at work.
Maybe they simply need a dirty weekend away somewhere to recapture the spark. Him and Andrew, not him and Harry. Perhaps they can try a bit of roleplay, pretend like Louis’ father/Andrew’s boss doesn’t know about them (like he didn’t at the start), the thrill of it all, and he can get fucked hard on an old leather couch or after a picnic by a lake lined with trees (neither of which have ever happened, but a guy can dream his cheesy log cabin fantasies).
I like chest hair and proper stubble and men in nicely tailored suits. I like them older, more experienced, willing to teach me things. I like sucking dick and taking it up the arse and I have found all these things and more, Louis recites silently as a reminder whilst he fills his half-empty glass with more orange juice and heads for the door. He hears conversation as he gets close, but zeroes in on Andrew because he feels a tad guilty and he wants to be proactive in his relationship, damn it. Relationships do take work.
He trails his hand boldly down Andrew’s chest over his shirt and smudges a quick kiss to his temple (he’s not one for PDA, even in front of potential future family-in-law) and sidesteps to sit down when he spots his dad stood in the entry to the dining room with another man having suddenly materialised beside him. Guess there was someone at the door after all. Louis straightens up immediately, eyes wide, and his fingers tighten on the glass in his hand so he doesn’t drop it in shock.
“You? Sorry, I - ” he splutters, mouth hanging open and blinking like he really can’t believe his eyes. “Harry?”
Louis’ dad and Andrew both look between them, surprised. Andrew cranes his neck until Louis takes the hint and slowly slides into his seat. He feels like he’s been drugged as he watches Andrew frown in confusion from the corner of his eye. “You know him?”
“I - we only - ” he grapples around for how to explain, “We’ve met, yeah. Last week, a little place in Camden.” Andrew doesn’t know about that café. God, Louis never thought in a million years that he’d see Harry again and have to think about the effect that day had on him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”
He watches his dad and Harry share a look. Harry looks a little less put together than that morning - his tie loosened and askew, a button open at the bottom of his waistcoat - as if he’d had a particularly taxing day. Louis’ dad swallows thickly, silent communication strangely passing between them even though, as far as Louis’ aware, they don’t know one other at all and this is a figment of his imagination. A fever dream. A hopeless, inappropriately misguided crush.
“Well, this is Harry, er, Styles,” his dad stumbles as the man himself looks on, serene. “And he works for me.”
“What?” Louis gasps.
“What?” Andrew barks.
“What?” Louis’ youngest sisters’ chime, collapsing into giggles because they think this is a game.
He grips Harry’s shoulder. “Harry started working for me last week and, uh, he dropped by because I asked him to, obviously. I mean - ”
“When were you going to tell me about this, Mark?” Andrew interrupts, expression dark.
For once, Louis doesn’t want to add anything because he’s too busy berating himself for not asking Harry enough questions that morning at the café. If he did, he would’ve found out that Harry was about to become more tangled in his life than either of them could’ve predicted. Although he will admit he’s confused as to why Andrew apparently knew nothing about it too.
Harry takes a step forward, eyes sparkling but a smile not really on his face. Louis’ not used to that. It seemed to him that Harry was the type to smile a lot and so easily. “And you are?”
Louis sees the precise second it ruffles Andrew’s feathers. Instead of a polite enquiry like Louis is sure it was (okay, half sure), he takes it as a dismissive sleight against his status or something and actually stands up, holding his tie to his stomach and thrusting his other hand out. Louis bites his cheek to stop the sigh over such alpha male bullshit.
“Andrew Baxter.” he introduces as the muscle in his jaw twitches and he pumps Harry’s clasped palm vigorously. “I’m a barrister at Mark’s firm.”
“Top man, top man,” Louis’ dad nods quickly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “One of our best.”
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Harry pins him there with his gaze, looking anything but.
“Yes, well.” he blusters in the ensuing silence, jerkily extracting his hand to sit down again. He drapes his arm over Louis’ chair, something he’s never done before, and Louis can’t help the raised eyebrows he throws him for such uncharacteristically odd behaviour, which he’s possibly oblivious to or ignores.
“Right!” Louis’ dad cheerily claps Harry on the back, before he can do much more than smile wanly at Andrew and have to leave it at that. “Thanks for coming over, Harry. I know it’s getting quite late and I’m sure you’ve got family or a girlfriend to get back to, so I’ll let - ”
“I don’t have to go actually.” Harry says, bold but entirely calm, then curiously sniffs the air, eyes roving the table and their half-eaten meals. “Mmm, smells like my favourite.”
His full grin is like kittens and rainbows and those dimples, holy hell. Louis’ weak despite himself and it seems his dad is too. “Oh. Then, uh, you should stay.” he suggests, “Yes, yes, stay and have dinner with us! There’s plenty to go around and I suppose we do have some things to discuss.”
“Thank you so much, Mark.” he inclines his head in a nod. “That’s very kind of you, honestly.”
“Not at all.” Louis’ dad motions him to the end of the table, where Andrew not-so secretly sulks on his right and Lottie is starry-eyed to his left. Louis really must remind her that she’s got a boyfriend and, while he’s at it, so does he. “So let me introduce everyone. We have Andrew, my right-hand man, you’ve apparently met Louis already and these are my daughters - Charlotte, Felicite, Daisy and Phoebe. Please, take a seat.”
They lapse into dinner-quiet, clinking cutlery and chewing until Louis looks up and sees Harry is already staring at him. It’s a sort of blank look and would be creepy except he makes it seem simply attentive instead. Louis presses his lips together to hide his smile in case, between them, Andrew sees and bows his head to stare at his meat and two veg. Suddenly, he’s thinking of dick jokes and snorts. Harry follows; grinning openly once he knows he’s broken the ice.
“So Louis,” he begins, dabbing his mouth clumsily with the napkin he’d endearingly tucked into the front of his shirt collar. “How do you know Andrew? Just as your father’s highly adored colleague?”
He never took Harry for a careful wind-up merchant because he’d mentioned Andrew at the café, but he’s got the best poker face and the knowledge of this new skill makes Louis cover his laugh with a cough into his fist, eyes crinkling nonetheless.
“I’m his partner actually.” Andrew leans forward to answer for him, blocking their view of each other.
Harry raises his eyebrow too innocently ‘curious’ to be genuine, shifting his eyes off Louis slowly. “Oh? Business partner?”
“No.” he grits out, “Boyfriend. But we prefer the term ‘partner’, don’t we, darling?”
If he’s completely honest, Louis doesn’t care either way but he hums his agreement anyway to placate the poor guy before he dies from being toyed with.<
Trying to return to his mission of being a good partner; he further takes the risk of sliding his hand onto Andrew’s tense thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. He flinches at the contact because, of course, the PDA thing - especially in the company of a stranger - and it makes Louis twitch too, embarrassed that he can’t even be that cheeky anymore. He thought he liked his spontaneous, mischievous streak. He’s uncertain whether Lottie giggled and nudged her sister, but it feels like she knows what he was doing under the table and he’s horrified that his cheeks burn. It only gets worse off Harry’s intense stare and he’s going to need counselling or something to work out why or how that makes him squirmy.
As a sorry on top of a sorry, Louis reaches up and brushes his fingertips along the side of Andrew’s head. His hair as black as tar and is a plentiful, slicked quiff on top with short sides but Louis thinks he can see grey coming through if he squints and he finds it sexy and distinguished like George Clooney, honest, even though his boyfriend is barely 32 years old and his face is pale around his dark brown eyes. Clooney without a tan and the hot daddy wrinkles then.
“Louis, stop it.” he hisses irritably only after a few seconds, jerking away.
He folds his hands in his lap with a sigh.
It’s gonna be a long night.
--
A couple of days pass and Louis feels so antsy, possessed by this excess energy that he hasn’t been able to get rid of. After dinner the other night at his dad’s house, he didn’t go home and have sex with his boyfriend like he hoped and he blames that as the latest reason why his life suddenly feels off-kilter, however churlish it is. He’s tried to make himself be vaguely useful today, but it has ultimately come to this: being at his dad’s twice in one week, doing slow laps of the indoor pool to see if exercise will do the trick. Masturbation only takes the edge off for so long.
Surfacing from swimming a length underwater, Louis pushes his flattened fringe away from his eyes and blinks out the chlorine. Weak daytime sunlight filters through the big bay windows and he can see the rest of the house from where he lifts his crossed arms up onto the edge of the big, rectangular pool, outside decking and a garden leading to French doors. Alone with his thoughts, every other noise he hears is magnified and a squeak has him whip his head around quickly, heart beating fast until he sees that it’s Harry, dressed in a much neater suit and shiny shoes, more reminiscent of the man he first met.
“Oh,” he says flatly, panic over. “It’s you.”
“Yes. Who else would it be?”
“Strangers who turn up unannounced in the middle of the evening?” He knows he’s being glib and crotchety because of the nightmare couple of days he’s had to deal with and his long-standing niggles with Andrew, so he’s apparently taking it out on the next person he comes across, but he can’t bring himself to be polite when his precious alone time has also been disrupted. When Harry still hasn’t moved an inch from entering the room, in fact barely reacted at all, Louis decides, with an inward sigh, to climb out. “I’m surprised you’re not at the office. That’s where my dad is.” he adds meaningfully, careful on the slippery floor in walking over to the sun lounger to pick up his towel and haphazardly dry off. “What do you want?”
“Do you love Andrew?”
He freezes, snaps his gaze up from where his hands have stilled at his wet thighs. “What? Where did that come from?”
“Do you love Andrew?” Harry repeats easily, tilting his head. Louis fights the urge to cover himself completely as curious eyes linger on his bare torso. “I saw you kiss him at dinner the other night, but he wasn’t very...responsive.”
He feels his jaw clench, shocked by the invasiveness of such a question. There’s one thing to share a joke over tea, it’s another to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business if we’re ‘responsive’ or not.” he replies tightly, automatically defensive because it’s just too unintentionally close to the bone. “Listen, I shouldn’t have told you about him, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just forget I said anything because I don’t think it’s helping and you can just go back to whatever you’ve got going on with my dad, which, by the way, I can’t believe you didn’t mention to me before and, for god’s sake, why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” Harry asks gently, unfazed by his distracted frown and continuing to stare at his mouth.
“So intense when I’m talking.”
“I’d like us to be friends. Would you prefer it if I stop?”
“Yes.” he snaps, before Harry’s open face makes his mood crack guiltily, rubbing a hand across his own. “No. Fuck, I don’t know! Sorry. It’s honestly not you. I’m not at my best right now or my nicest. Guess I’m not used to that now either. People don’t normally watch me like that. Well, not when I’m away from work.”
“You have a nice mouth.” The earnest manner in which Harry will say these things startles a giggle out of him as he slides closer to Louis, hands in his pockets and biting his lip. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”
“Yeah...”
“Why?”
“Because - ” he says then realises he doesn’t have anything else in mind. This up close, Harry’s eyes are green but could almost pass for blue in certain light, maybe if he steps to the side or raises his chin a fraction more to catch the sparkle and reflect the pool water next to them. His hair flops effortlessly in thick waves wherever Harry wants it to go except for the stubborn curls by his ears and his mouth, his mouth is obscene, a deep blushing pink. Louis has no idea why Harry would want to watch his form words. This up close, he feels drawn in, mesmerised, as the damp on his skin makes him shiver and he feels a little unsteady. “Not - that’s not the right word exactly.” He admits breathily. “It’s just you make me want to - I want to - Harry, can I - ”
“Louis?”
Jolted so hard from the moment that that’s not Harry’s voice but Andrew’s, he blinks wildly and stumbles back a step, forcing a smile onto his face. He notices as he turns that Harry barely moves, unconcerned. Shit! He’d almost just...well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. “Babe, hi! Aren’t you supposed to be in court all day?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your tour?” he replies tersely. “But of course, here you are having your own pool party. Is this a romantic time for two or can anyone join in? Hell, maybe you’d like that. Sorry, for the interruption.”
“Andrew, wait!” Louis calls, rushing after him.
The tiles in the corridor are cool on his bare feet as he hurriedly tries to wrap the towel around his waist and water slowly drips from his legs. His boyfriend rounds on him before he can say anything else, face pinched.
“What’s he doing here? Shouldn’t he be making the teas for your father like a good little office boy?” he hisses, like it’s all one big inconvenience. “My case this afternoon was adjourned. I thought maybe we could go out for lunch, but I see you have plans already.”
“I dunno why you’re being like this or what’s going on with him - ”
“ - He was probably watching you swim, the goddamn creep,” he sneers.
“ - But obviously my dad, your boss,” Louis reminds pointedly, “has his reasons. Don’t take it out on me because you’ve been replaced.”
“Are you going to replace me too? Go on the charm offensive?” Andrew looks him over once, but it feels far from complimentary. “It wouldn’t surprise me, the way you’re flaunting yourself in nothing but shorts the size of a postage stamp.”
He rolls his eyes, exasperated. “I thought I was on my own in my dad’s house! What, are you jealous?”
“It’s not about that. I don’t like the way he looks at you, I don’t like the way he talks to you. Stop being so slutty, Louis.”
Andrew’s nostrils flare as they stare each other down, but Louis finally understands where this has felt like its going and, if he’s honest with himself, it’s probably been a long time coming. His gaze narrows.
“And there we have it. Cheers, really. I can’t believe you’d actually - after everything...” he snorts humourlessly. “Well, d’you know what? It’s tough shit because I like the way he looks and talks to me and, for your information, there’s nothing ‘slutty’ about it. At least he wants to know what I have to say, which you don’t seem to anymore. I’m there to look pretty and not bother you. I thought we could move on from that and I’ve been trying so hard since I came back from tour, but instead I feel like such a fucking idiot. You haven’t touched me or let me touch you in so long.”
He scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous. I kiss you every morning.”
“Yeah, saying goodbye with a bloody peck! I need more. I’m worth more.”
Apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Andrew’s posture straightens, his tall stature reminiscent of the man Louis’ been trying not to let invade his every thought. However, his eyes aren’t inquisitive and magnetic. They’re dark and bottomless as his expression hardens. “Have you been going behind my back? Is that what this is?”
“What? With Harry? No!” he inhales sharply, finally hearing out loud what Andrew thought the minute he learnt that they’d already met.
“Because I’m sure he’d love to know all your dirty secrets before things get serious, wouldn't he?” he says before Louis can come out of his disbelief and get a word in edgeways. “How about that I plucked you from your silly boyband and showed you what the real good life is? So you didn’t have to sneak around, whoring yourself out every night to pretentious, coke-addled twats who had no idea that you could do so much better than them? That you told me the thought of being with a man full of experience and ambition really turned you on? Or how you still beg to be fucked until you’re screaming, sticking your arse in the air like the willing hole you are because the truth is, even after all that, any cock will do for you, won’t it?”
Louis blinks like he’s been slapped, his throat closing up. Horrified, he can no longer speak. He guesses that means they’re not having a simple disagreement over a house guest.
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks and I’m really tired of yours.” he continues with a sigh, as if Louis is that disappointingly inept pet. “I’m tired of you nagging me, of your flirting, how you’re gagging for every scrap of attention. It’s needy, it’s pathetic and it’s immaturity at its highest, darling. Don’t come crying to me when you inevitably return to your senses and realise Mr Harry Styles is a jumped up little boy in a shit suit. We’re done here. Goodnight.”
Finished with that and, it seems, with Louis, he picks up his briefcase by his feet and makes his exit. His expensive shoes squeak on the floor.
“Goodnight.” Louis mutters to his feet, crushed despite the fury boiling inside.
He takes a few deep breaths and thinks it’s a faint echo of Andrew’s shoes that he can hear until, behind him, he hears Harry’s rumbling voice.
“He is definitely not a gentleman.” He’s close enough that it feels like the warmth in the air between them is from his body and a whisper of his lips at Louis’ ear. “He should never, ever talk to you in that way. I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, well that makes two of us. I should’ve known once the novelty wore off that things would be...different.” he shrugs, wriggling his toes and still clutching at his towel. He looks to his right side, but can’t quite turn all the way round. “Thanks though, I do appreciate it. I guess this means I have one less thing to worry about. Single again. Yay.”
From such blatant sarcasm, Harry curls his big, warm hand onto his shoulder. “He didn’t deserve you.”
Louis daren’t face him properly, not when he still feels on the brink of a good cry. Things are so bad and a great relief at the same time, which makes for some confusing emotions that he fancies ignoring for the immediate future. Thankfully, he’s wet and covered in goosebumps so, whilst it’s probably rude to end the situation like this right now, he manages a tiny smile at Harry before hastily leaving to go put some clothes on.
--
The next time Louis sees Harry, it’s a surprise.
“My dad let you go for the rest of the day? Just like that? What are you?” he laughs, eyebrows cocked. “How did you do it?”
“I have my ways.” he smiles.
It’s odd because Louis totally believes him. Harry and his dad always look like they’re scheming and confiding, especially since things ended between him and Andrew, and yet it never feels like he is trying to suck up. Louis knows he pretty much has his parents wrapped around his little finger and he’s in awe that Harry appears to have the same gift.
He’d been walking through the park nearest his house, having taken his sisters off his mum’s hands for a while, and felt happiness bubble inside him as he saw Harry ambling towards them. He wanted to laugh at him strolling around still dressed impeccably and yet he looks so smart and sure of himself that it’s a grin that overtakes his face instead. Tension he didn’t know was stored in his shoulders seeps out as nobody seems particularly interested that Harry is there without their father, beyond the twins’ silent, inquisitive glances. Out of the corner of his eye, as they start walking towards a playground in the middle distance, Louis thinks he sees Lottie roll her eyes, but it could’ve been at something on her phone so he chooses to ignore her. She seems to have gotten past her casual crush since the first night Harry met the family and if she won’t blithely make deliberate assumptions to annoy Louis then he won’t tease her about being glued to that thing she calls a lifeline.
“I asked the boys if they wanted to come,” he explains because his mind is otherwise unnaturally blank of conversation and they’re always good to fall back on, “but no dice, so unfortunately it’s only me and this rabble. Zayn said he had to do more in his graffiti room - I swear that guy’s obsessed - and Liam’s got family down. Niall was too lazy, probably; he hasn’t answered my text yet.”
Walking just in front of them, Daisy’s short pigtails whip round. “Is Niall coming? Please say he is! Please!”
He mouths to Harry massive crush then turns to his sister, smoothing her hair. “I don’t know, babe, he didn’t say. Maybe.”
“Phoebe!” she shrieks, running to catch up to her twin ahead with her other sisters.
“Oi!” Louis yells after her, laughing, “I’m not carrying you back to the house if you fall and break something! Be careful!”
He will admit that he relaxes when Daisy reaches the three who have stopped and are waiting for her, mostly so his mum won’t kill him when he’s supposed to be the responsible big brother and adult. He doesn’t have to be near to hear their chattering either, Phoebe clutching at her sister’s arms as they all loudly tease her about how she likes Niall best. It’s very cute, but Louis has to hide his sniggering and distract them with something else before it turns into a metaphorical bloodbath of twins defending against the rest. He physically steps into the middle of them, passing the ball he brought with him between his hands.
“Alright, who’s up for a game of football?”
--
They don’t play football.
Louis gets outvoted, which is entirely unfair and Harry was no help at all when he smirked and admitted that he was crap at it. Compromising, Fizzy and Lottie agreed to push the twins on the swings if it meant that their brother left them alone for five minutes. Louis would’ve protested indignantly but somehow couldn’t find the words when Harry threw his arm happily around his shoulder and promised the girls - his girls, damn it, the traitors - that he and Louis would be sitting nearby if they were needed. This time, Louis definitely catches Lottie’s smirk as he’s led away to the first bench they see.
“They’re fine, Louis,” he chuckles, taking a seat, “Look, we can see them from here and everything. They won’t run off with strangers, really.”
He has half a mind to say that the twins might before he realises that this isn’t like when he was a teenager anymore. It’s natural that in his absence, the two next eldest will have taken on his role somewhat and whilst this is London and not Doncaster, he probably has nothing to worry about when they look after each other so effortlessly. He comes back to himself to see Harry’s grin as he pats the space beside him and Louis finally accepts with a coy smile. It quickly tries to turn his cheeks pink too because, for a few seconds, his body is pressed up against Harry’s from shoulder to elbow to thigh and knee, but he fights it with a cough, feeling just as nervous with his clothes on as he did dripping wet and half naked.
“So c’mon then,” he tries, tucking his leg underneath himself to put some distance between them. “Tell me all about Harry Styles.”
Harry shrugs minutely. “Nothing to tell. I’m...Harry.” Louis giggles and lifts his elbow onto the back of the bench, leaning his head on his hand. He bats his long eyelashes comically until Harry raises his eyebrows a little. He seems to make every move count. “Okay. Do you want to hear a secret?”
Louis lights up. “Oh god, do I? Is it juicy? Is it about someone else? Do I know them?”
“It’s about me. All you need to know is sometimes I - ” he pauses, eyes bright and concentrated, as if to check that Louis really wants to know, whilst he feels that tug low in his stomach once more, pushing him even closer to Harry. “Sometimes, in my line of work, I wonder whether I’m leaving enough time to really pay attention to everything else, to understand and appreciate what’s going on around me.”
Quite what a student who wants a career in law has missed from his life, Louis doesn’t know, but he can certainly relate. “Yeah,” he nods, looking over to his sisters, “sorry to say I think I know what you mean. I love my job, but I hate feeling like I’m out of the loop on other things. I thought I was starting to get the balance, but obviously I didn’t even pick the right guy to be serious about.”
“Don’t say that.” Harry covers the hand that’s resting on his bent knee, capturing Louis’ attention again. “It wasn’t your fault he had no manners.”
Hypnotised by the slow blink and easy sincerity, Louis feels the need to fidget but the thought of pulling the focus down to their resting hands makes the will to blush even stronger. He’s lucky that it rarely shows on his face, but he’s not so sure about the hopeless hearts. Harry’s just so lovely all the time.
“You’re being nice, yeah? That’s all this is?”
“Why’d you ask?”
“Because this is too good to be true. Nobody looks perfect, sounds perfect and acts like the perfect gentleman.” Louis swallows hard, eyes widening. “Shit, you’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you?”
Harry shakes his head and smiles enough to the side that one dimple pops.
“Boyfriend?”
“No. I don’t have a boyfriend, Louis.” he replies calmly, brushing down his legs as he stands.
“Louis! Louis! We want sweets!” a duet of voices suddenly prevents him from doing more than stare dumbly at Harry as he takes in the news that this guy is single. “Can we get sweets? Please? Pretty please! Louis?”
“I think you should answer them before they explode.” he smirks, changing from serene to mischievous in a split second.
“Sorry, girls.” he tells them regretfully, getting to his feet and taking the twins’ hands to soften the blow, “Mum would kill me and I don’t want to miss the only Sunday roast I’ll probably get to have this year.”
He thinks he hears a mumbled joking retort of “selfish!” from one of the other two, but refuses to be drawn because nothing is more important to him today than roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding.
Since the twins have had enough, they leave the playground in the park behind and head back to Louis’s house. He has half a mind to invite Harry to tea, so he’s deliberately hung back from his sisters to have some privacy to ask except Harry appears to have other ideas.
“Thank you for the company, Louis,” he nods at him and something in Louis’ chest flutters giddily at the thought of him performing a gracious little bow, all buttoned up to match his attitude to correct behaviour. It’s possible that he’s dangerously close to morphing into a real life Prince Charming in Louis’ head. He watches him also turn to regard his sisters, who are gathered around them both now that they’re stood idly in the driveway. “I enjoyed our walk very much. Good afternoon, ladies. Good afternoon, Louis.”
“But!” he blurts out before he can control himself, struggling to ask at the last minute. “don’t - stay. I mean, you should stay. For tea. Here. At my house. My mum. She won’t mind.”
No, just a man she’s never met being invited to eat food she’s cooked with no prior notice whatsoever. Well, if the shoe fits for his dad...
“Smooth, Lou, smooth.” Fizzy mutters, nudging him hard in the back.
His heart sinks when Harry shakes his head in a no because he wants to know so much more about him after today and what better way over a meal (okay, it’s with four sisters and his mother, so not exactly ideal) but he’s shocked out of his disappointment as Harry tugs on the hand he was holding out in a futile attempt to stop him leaving, sending him bumping into Harry’s firm chest.
“May I kiss you goodbye?” he whispers in a low voice, already mostly there.
It’s one of the increasingly many reasons Louis likes him so much so soon. He asks and he waits and he focuses on Louis like he’s truly someone who matters, who deserves to be heard and taken care of. It’s pretty irresistible and a touch wild because Louis feels invincible when he’s with him and there’s only one answer to his question as he lets want wash over him. He gives his nod of permission and Harry raises warm hands to his face, dropping his chin to connect their lips. Louis’ helpless, just has to be delicately kissed, then, after a few seconds, eases his mouth away with great difficulty because unfortunately, he’s all too aware that they still have a bloody audience behind them. The burn of sudden shyness and embarrassment at last blots high onto his cheeks as he struggles to turn his eyes from Harry. Daisy and Phoebe are giggling behind their hands, apparently finding the whole thing funny, but there’s no such luck with the older two, if their wide stares are anything to go by.
“Mum’s probably waiting...” he prompts, eyeballing them unsubtly, “And it’s getting cold. You should go inside. I’ll be there in a second.”
“Unlikely.” Lottie snorts, but helps to usher everyone into the house anyway.
Finally alone, Louis’ too...everything to look at him again, even though they haven’t let go of each other physically. Too nervous, too excited, too surprised, too hopeful. Too busy wishing for another kiss like the first. With perhaps less courteous tenderness and more tongue. He quickly starts to count his breaths and his heartbeats, getting mixed up, when he feels the tip of Harry’s nose nuzzle into his neck. Its cold, making him shiver, and that’s the only reason.
“I meant it y’know.” he says, placing his hands against Harry’s narrow waist to mimic the hold he has on him. “You’re welcome to stay for tea. You’ve already met my dad and my sisters. You could come in and meet my mum, complete the set, although that might not be such an easy ride. She might interrogate you a bit.”
He knows he’s talking rubbish from the way he laughs kindly and Louis wants to bury his face in his broad body as he feels a kiss to his temple, but distance is beginning to separate them. Now that he’s had a taste of resolving the interesting, crackling tension between them, it’s not enough to satisfy and he can’t help how he almost leans on tiptoes to prolong the second kiss Harry presses to his mouth. It’s not deep or long, although he finds himself slightly breathless from it all the same.
“I love your lips, so soft. I love your kisses. We should certainly do this again sometime.” Harry whispers into his parted lips, tongue catching slightly as he licks his own. “You’re wonderful, Louis, thank you. I’ll see you soon.”
He blinks hazily, his body empty, as Harry’s warmth moves gracefully from his grip. He doesn’t wait until he’s out of sight to go inside.
He’s not that silly from a kiss or two.
--
(Continues here.)