perfectdarling
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"The Devil was staring at him.
"Louis shifted slightly in his seat and scratched the back of his neck, picking up his program and reading the title of the play again: L’homme qui a vu le Diable.
"He was wearing a satin red suit, one that certainly stood out amongst the usual greys and blacks of other Paris theatres, and instead of merely appearing the two times that the main character summoned him, this Devil followed the other men around on stage as they spoke and played cards. He kept looking over their shoulders and mocking their awkward movements, jerks and twitches compared to his own lithe prowl. The theatre audience, most readily impressed by gruesome effects and sensationalism, couldn’t take their eyes off him.
"Neither could Louis."
Paris, 1912. Louis is a frequent patron of the Theatre du Grand Guignol. Harry is a performer. Tonight he's playing the Devil.
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Bookmarked by perfectdarling
03 May 2022
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Louis’ not paying attention as his phone unlocks, and he’s shocked when the thread opens and there’s only one message there from an unknown contact.
i’m home
For a minute he assumes it’s got to be a wrong number, and before he can decide whether to just ignore it or send a response the three dots show up and then a second message.
it’s harry by the way
And finally a third right after that.
are you busy tonight?
—
Or, the one where Harry returns back home for the holidays after a successful debut album, leaving Louis to unwrap gifts as well as old complicated feelings. Cue: hometown holiday hookups, overbearing siblings, and a disastrous New Year’s Eve party. A 'Tis’ the Damn Season' inspired au. -
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“Huh?” Harry asks, muffled by his forearm. He feels lips on his face and the tip of Louis’ nose against his ear when Louis repeats himself. Brain sluggish with sleep, it takes a moment for him to process the words, but his eyes snap open, and he’s met with darkness. He's got to be dreaming, there’s no way Louis just said what he thinks he said. “What did you say?”
He can see the vague shrug from Louis before he turns around to toss the towel with the pile of their discarded clothes. “Did you say…” he starts slowly, automatically slinging his arm around Louis as he gets back into bed and throws the blankets over them.
“That we should make a sex tape?” Louis asks rather nonchalantly for such a big proposition. He cuddles easily into the warm body and confirms, “Yes, I did.”
the soft frat bros sex tape(s)
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Bookmarked by perfectdarling
20 Mar 2022
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“What does it mean if he’s done two of them? That both of them are his love languages?”
“Well, maybe,” Oli considers. “Could be something else.”
Louis sits up straight. “What could it mean?”
Oli cowers a bit into his seat. “Listen, I’m not trying to get your hopes up for nothing if it just ends up being a friend thing.”
“Tell me,” Louis jabs him in the side. “Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell—”
“Okay!” Oli exclaims, shoving Louis’ hands away. “Okay, fine. Maybe, if he’s interested in you like that, it could be him trying to figure out what your love language is. And that’s why he’s done two different ones."
The one about the five love languages.
Bookmarked by perfectdarling
11 Jan 2022
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The bell tinkled, and Harry froze as an overpowering scent, musky and thick, crisp and slightly sweet, yet utterly masculine, delightfully tickled his senses. Harry's eyes slowly slid up to see the source of this wonderful scent, and his breath was taken away at the sex god before him, all muscled and compact and utterly screaming of Alpha. Icy blue eyes stared him down, set off by sharp cheekbones, a stubbled jaw that looked yummy enough to nibble on, and caramel hair, which was lazily gelled, a few pieces falling over his forehead. His skin was tan, his hands strong and steady, his biceps still clearly visible even through his jacket. Every fiber of Harry's being stood at full alert.
The one where Harry's a vanilla-sweet Omega and Louis walks into his bakery one day.
Bookmarked by perfectdarling
20 Nov 2021