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It’s six thirty in the morning, and Harry does not want to get out of bed. He’s normally an early riser, but not this early, especially when he’s used to being able to sleep in all summer long. But today is the first day of a new school year and he really needs to get up.
His summer was uneventful, to say the least. He painted his living room, read some books, and finally got the dented bumper on his car fixed, but the majority of his time was spent on his couch binge-watching several different series on Netflix and stuffing his face with takeout Chinese food. His life is a riot.
Reluctantly rolling out from under his cocoon of blankets, Harry heads for his bathroom. He turns the shower on and leaves it running while he brushes his teeth, allowing the water an ample amount of time to get just the right side of piping hot that he loves.
After his shower, he ties a towel around his waist and makes his way to his tiny kitchen. He pops a couple slices of bread into the toaster and starts up the coffee pot. He leans against the counter while he waits for his toast, staring at the burnt patch on the wall behind the stove from when his ex-boyfriend tried to make him dinner one night and it went terribly wrong. He should probably paint over that or something.
Coffee black and toast perfectly buttered, Harry takes one into each hand and wanders back into his bedroom. He stands in his closet for far too long trying to decide what to wear. It’s always tricky with the first day, wanting to set a good example. But then again, Harry’s not really trying to impress a room full of six-year-olds.
Finally, he decides on a white long-sleeved shirt with little ruffles around the collar and the wrists, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans, paired with his favorite pair of black leather boots. Simple and casual, yet sophisticated.
He stares at his reflection in the mirror, more at his hair than anything else, trying to figure out what to do with it. It’s much easier to deal with now than it was a few years ago. He wildy grew it out while he was in college, to where it was just past his shoulders, and as much as he loved his long hair, he cut it all off when he landed this teaching job two years ago. He wanted to start the job off fresh as the brand new him.
He gels his bangs up and back so they’re not hanging in his face and runs his fingers through the rest of it to make it look like he just rolled out of bed. Which, he kind of did just roll out of bed, but he’d never go out in public with the way his hair actually looks when he first wakes up. He stifles a yawn into his fist as he pours himself a to-go cup of coffee after he’s finished his hair and then he’s out the door, keys in hand and messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
The drive to school is when the excitement really starts to hit him. It’s the very first day of a brand new year, and as nerve wracking as that is, he finds it more exciting than anything. Harry likes his job. No, he loves his job. He loves working with his kids and getting to know them throughout the year because after all, he’s just a big kid himself.
His reserved parking space is waiting for him when he arrives, almost as if it missed him as much as he missed it. Which is absolutely ridiculous. Who misses a parking space? Sure, he returned to school a few times during the summer for meetings and to set up his classroom just last week, but it feels as if he’s coming back for the first time since May.
The parking lot is still fairly empty seeing as Harry likes to arrive a little early, but he recognizes a few of his fellow teachers’ cars as he makes his way to the building. It’s kind of hard to miss the bright orange Jeep Wrangler with forty inch tires that belongs to one of the fifth grade teachers. Harry’s always thought he was overcompensating for something with that thing.
Climbing the stairs towards the entrance sends a thrill of nostalgia through Harry. It’s a new year; nothing on the outside has changed, but everything on the inside has, and he can’t wait for it to begin.
This is the school he went to when he was younger and it feels surreal to be teaching here now. He just hopes he has at least half of the amount of impact on his kids as his teachers did to him when he was here. Only one of the teachers he had is still here, Mrs. Gibson, his third grade teacher, and she has been such an incredible mentor and friend to him.
Harry says ‘good morning’ to the few people he passes in the hallway on his way towards his favorite teacher’s lounge. There’s only two in the school, but this one is closer to his room than the other one and he just likes it better anyway, feels more homey, plus it has its own bathroom. He snags one of the everything bagels along with a little container of cream cheese and refills his coffee cup from the fresh pot. He’s hoping Mrs. Whitehurst didn’t make it, her coffee always ends up tasting like brown water.
The ‘Mr. Styles’ in sparkly gold letters taped to the door greets him when he unlocks his classroom, his second home for the next nine months. He drops his bag on the floor underneath his desk as he sits down in his chair, laying his bagel out in front of him. The bright colors—he went for a blue and green theme this year—and the smell of brand new pencils and crayons makes another wave of excitement wash over him. It’s good to be back.
He’s forever grateful that he was able to get a classroom with windows instead of being stuck in a stuffy one in the middle of the building with nothing but those harsh fluorescent lights to light the room. At least this way he has natural lighting and he hardly ever uses the overhead ones unless it’s a rainy or cloudy day. Through the windows he sees a school bus drive by on it’s way to the student drop off zone. It’s time.
Harry stands outside his classroom as the students start filtering into the halls. He notices some familiar faces from his classes the previous years and he even gets a hug from Stacy, his favorite student from last year. He hugs her back and wishes her good luck on her first day of second grade.
After all of his kids have entered the classroom and hung their bookbags up on their designated bookbag hooks—they’re hot pink, which doesn’t really match Harry’s theme this year, but he was very proud of them when he first bought them—and picked a spot to sit around the tables, Harry shuts the door and stands at the front of the room.
There’s twenty-two pairs of eyes on him and he can feel the nervous fluttering of butterflies kickstart in his stomach. The first day is always the hardest and he’s sure he isn’t the only nervous one in the room, but he’s the adult and he needs to be able to set a good example. Besides, six year olds usually aren’t afraid to say exactly what’s on their minds—Harry’s always been a bit envious of that—and he doesn’t want to let any of them down.
“Good morning class,” he clears his throat because that came out more wobbly than he would have liked. He just has to get over this little speed bump at the beginning and then it’ll be smooth sailing for the rest of the day. He hopes. “I’m Mr. Styles and I’ll be your teacher for the year! I hope you’re just as excited about that as I am.”
Harry sets a tub of markers out on each table and has the kids decorate and write their names on sticky name tag that will go on the back of their chairs. He also has them draw a first day portrait that will go on the very front page of their yearly portfolios. Next, they go through the reading and writing portion of their day, only having a few kids struggle with it. Harry is more than happy to help them out and it seems like a few of the other students are willing to help as well. This is already turning out to be a good bunch.
Lunch and recess is next, so Harry asks his kids to make a single file line behind him, which takes a lot longer than he originally thought, and he leads them through the hallways to the cafeteria. After he’s made sure that all his students have their lunch and they’re settled in at their table, Harry makes his way to the teacher’s table at the front of the room and takes the empty seat next to Mrs. Gibson.
At only twenty-three, Harry is the youngest teacher at the school. He was lucky enough to start right after he graduated from college. Being as he went to this school himself, it was a little easier for him to get the job. At first he was a little nervous that him being the youngest, he wouldn’t be taken seriously, but he was quickly proven wrong. He’s treated with the same amount of respect as all the other teachers and he gets along with each of them. He feels privileged to have a job he loves so much and it’s so nice to be back.
Math takes up a good chunk of the afternoon after lunch and recess. It’s definitely Harry’s least favorite part of the day, he’s never been a big fan of math, but he tries to make it fun for his kids. He doesn’t want any one of them to not enjoy class.
They all meet together on the carpet and beanbag chairs in the corner of the room for the last twenty minutes of the class for another reading session. Harry lets them pick out which book to read from the shelf and he has each one of them try to read at least one sentence aloud from the book.
The end of the day comes a lot quicker than Harry would have liked, but overall, he thinks it went really well. Before they leave, Harry hands out the packets of information on his class that he asks them to give to their parents. Then, he splits them up into groups of bus riders, walkers, and the ones being picked up by their parents and leads them outside to the designated areas.
He’s feeling really good when he finally makes it to his car to head home for the day. He can’t wait until he can call his mom and tell her all about his first day, which is exactly what he does the second he walks through the door of his apartment.
--
The rest of the week flies by and Harry is finally starting to comfortably settle back into working again. It feels good to be doing something productive everyday after sitting on his ass for months. Already, he’s loving his group of kids this year. They all seem to get along with each other, although it is only the first week and anything could happen, but Harry feels very optimistic about it. All in all, it’s a great start to the year.
It’s now Friday at the end of the first week and Harry is sitting at his desk going over his lesson plans for the following week while his kids have their free time. Every Friday, Harry gives his kids fifteen minutes of free time where they can draw or read or chat with some of the other classmates, whatever they feel like doing. He thinks it’s good for them to let their brains rest for a bit and have some time to themselves.
Harry glances up from the papers in front of him when he hears someone approaching his desk, and he smiles when he sees that it’s David. He’s by far Harry’s favorite student. He knows he shouldn’t pick favorites, but it’s kind of hard not to when he has students like David in his class. He’s definitely the loudest and most outspoken one of the bunch, always raising his hand with a question and talking to the kids sitting at his table. He’s so enthusiastic about learning too, he’s gets excited about starting something new. He also goes out of his way to talk to Harry, which Harry thinks is very adorable. He’ll ask to eat lunch with him and even be the last one out of the classroom at the end of the day just so he can walk next to Harry on the way out to his bus.
“What’s up, David?” Harry asks, sticking the pen he was using behind his ear.
“My older brother is in high school and he’s on the soccer team.” David’s bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet like he’s so excited to be telling Harry about this. “They have a game tonight and I want you to come with me.”
Harry’s smile deflates a little at that. Firstly, he’s never been the biggest fan of soccer but that’s mostly because he’s quite shit at playing it. With his knowledge and understanding of the game, he feels like he should be a lot better at it. Secondly, he’s always felt a little uncomfortable about seeing his kids outside of school in more than a teacher-and-student kind of way. “Oh, I don’t know I—”
“Please, Mr. Styles,” David begs, bringing his hands up in front of him as if he’s praying and jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. “You’re my favoritest teacher and it’ll be so fun! I promise! He’s really good and we can cheer him on from the stands. And my mom will be there, too. Please!”
And well, when David is looking at him like that, Harry finds it rather hard to resist. It’s only a soccer game, which is a school event, so it’s not totally inappropriate. And it’s not like he has any other plans for the evening. “Okay, alright. I’ll come.”
David cheers and tells him to be at the soccer field at the high school at six sharp. He said he’ll be ‘very upset’ if Harry is late.
When Harry makes it home after school, he has a quick shower and heats up some leftovers for dinner. He changes into one of his usual casual outfits; a simple white shirt, blue jeans with rips in the knees, and his worn out dark brown chelsea boots, he slips on his sunglasses and then he’s out the door.
He finds David and his mom fairly easily, standing at the entrance to the soccer field waiting for him. He gets a big hug from David in greeting as he introduces himself to his mom. Harry buys them all a drink at the concession stand, even against David’s mother’s instance that he doesn’t need to, and they’re able to find some decent seats in the stands before the start of the game.
“He’s really happy that you came along,” David’s mother, Kim, says after they’ve settled into their seats. “He’s been raving about you all week. You’re his favorite teacher and he really loves your class.”
“Really?” Harry’s heart swells at that. He loves hearing that his kids enjoy his class, it means the world to him.
“Yeah,” Kim laughs. “I’ve never had one of my children complain about having too little homework. But also,” she continues, voice turning more serious. “I think he invited you to try and set you up with me. He’s been trying to get me to date someone ever since his father and I got divorced.” Harry tries to hold back his shock at that, but he has a feeling he’s not doing too well at it. “Although, I appreciate his efforts, you’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be and I just wouldn’t feel comfortable dating one of my son’s teachers.”
Harry’s flabbergasted to say the least. He never thought in a million years that one of his kids would try to set him up with their parent. Plus, he’s strictly against dating any of his student’s parents. “Well, I’m flattered,” he says. “Even though you are a beautiful woman, you’re not exactly my type. I’m gay, so...” He’s out and he’s proud, but it’s always a little nerve wracking coming out to someone new, unsure of how they’ll react. Most people are great about it, but unfortunately there still are a few who don’t like it.
“Oh, thank god,” Kim rushes out. And that’s not at all what Harry thought she would say. “I was afraid you knew about it and I was going to have to let you down gently. That makes it so much easier.”
David, who was talking to one of his friends sitting in front of them, turns his attention to Harry. “What’s gay?”
Harry’s eyes flick up to Kim to make sure it’s okay with her that he’s the only telling David this, and she gives him a little nod. “Well, when I say that I’m gay it just means that I like boys instead of girls.”
“Are you going to marry a boy?”
Harry chuckles, not expecting that question. “Yeah, hopefully. One day. If I can find the right one.”
“Would it be okay if I liked boys?” David asks, now fiddling with one of his shoelaces.
Harry isn’t sure if he should answer that, it feels like he might be overstepping, but his mom cuts in before he has a chance to overthink it.
“Of course, honey,” she answers, wrapping an arm around David. “If one day you decide that you like boys instead of girls, or both, or even neither, that’s perfectly okay. Don’t be afraid to tell me when you do figure it out, okay, because I’m going to love you no matter what and I just want you to be happy.”
Harry feels a rush of pride in his chest. He’s been lucky enough to have loving and supporting people in his life that have accepted him with open arms, but he knows that there are people like him in the world that get treated like shit just for being who they are and loving who they love. It’s comforting to know that people like Kim do exist, who accept everyone. The world is changing and more people are becoming accepting and understanding and it’s a beautiful thing.
“Okay.” David just shrugs and then he’s back to talking to his friend.
The stands start filling up fairly quickly around them and soon enough the teams are out and warming up on the sidelines. Harry watches as some of the boys run around the track to loosen up while others prefer to stay in place and stretch. But there is one of the boys on the team that Harry can’t seem to look away from for long. He’s been standing off to the side just watching everyone else and he must not be playing tonight because he’s wearing a jacket over his jersey.
That jacket must have been made just for him because it accentuates the dip of his waist and the flare of his hips. The shorts he’s wearing show off what is undoubtedly some strong thighs and even from behind, Harry can tell that he has an incredible body. Harry squirms on the bleachers because he definitely shouldn’t be thinking things like that about a highschool boy.
The boy takes off his jacket and the shirt underneath it says coach along the back. Harry lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that because he was for sure going to hell for having improper thoughts about a teenager. But then the coach turns around to lay his jacket on the bench behind him and Harry’s stomach falls out of his ass when he gets a look at his face.
No. It can’t be.
Harry’s heart beats double time as he squints and leans a little bit forward to get a better look at the coach, and yeah, that’s definitely him. Harry could never forget that face and he never thought he would ever see that face again. He heard talk about a new coach at the high school that’s supposed to be really good, but Harry didn’t think anything of it because he doesn’t work at the high school. It turns out that he knows this new coach—well, not like know know, more like he knows of him—because the coach is Louis.
As in Louis Tomlinson, one of, if not the, most popular boy back when Harry was in high school. The captain of the soccer team, the head of the drama club, and he was cast as every single male lead in all of the school plays. He’s also the boy that Harry had a huge embarrassing crush on. He would doodle their names together in the margins of his notebooks during class and daydream about them going on cheesy romantic dates together. It was bad.
Louis was in the year above Harry and he moved away for college after he graduated and Harry hasn’t heard anything about him since. But now it seems like Louis is back in town and is the new soccer coach at the high school. Wonderful.
But Louis was more than just a crush. He was the reason why Harry finally worked up the courage to come out to his mom—which was definitely the most terrifying thing he's ever done but it was also this huge weight off his shoulders, and of course his mom was so wonderful about it—and eventually to everyone else.
Harry had always kind of knew he liked boys when he was younger; he'd be more interested in the male characters in movies than the female. But it wasn't until Louis came along that Harry really knew he was gay and there was no turning back.
Louis was so open about being gay, everyone in school knew it, and yet no one cared. He never got shit for it and he was loved and respected by literally everyone. It was because of that that made Harry feel proud of who he was and unashamed of who he loved. He owes a lot to Louis.
He tries to pay as much attention to the game as he can, and he does for the most part, but he can't help but glance over to Louis every few minutes. It's just a scrimmage match anyway, not like it matters towards the rest of the season.
It's like he's fourteen again and seeing Louis up on the stage because that's where Harry saw him for the first time. It was a few months into his freshman year and they had a special assembly that day so the students could watch the fall musical. Harry wasn't paying much attention to it too busy texting Liam about how lame it was until he heard that voice.
He almost snapped his neck he looked up so fast. There was Louis; up on the stage singing his first solo. For a fairly small person, Louis took over that entire stage. He was incredible up there. And it was all downhill from there for Harry.
The second the game is over, David is out of his seat and grabbing Harry’s hand, pulling him down to the field. “I want you to meet my brother.”
They bump into a few people on their rush down the stairs, earning them some dirty looks. Harry mutters his apologies whenever he feels his shoulder brush against someone else.
“Jason!” David shouts when they reach the bottom step, throwing his arm up to wave. He tries to run out onto the field, but Harry tightens his grip on his hand effectively stopping him.
One of the boys standing in a huddle of about five or six other players looks over at them and smiles before making his way over.
“Davey,” he stops to ruffle David’s hair once he’s close enough and then turns his attention to Harry. “And you must be Mr. Styles.” Harry startles, he wasn’t expecting to be recognized. The look on his face must be obvious because Jason continues. “Little Davey here talks about you all the time. He really seems to love your class. I’m Jason by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry nods. “You played really well out there.” He doesn’t actually know if Jason played well or not since he wasn’t really paying attention. But that seems like the kind of thing someone would say in this situation.
Jason lights up at that so Harry thinks he said the right thing. “Thanks. The new coach is great and he’s really been helping me approve my game.”
As if on cue, Louis starts to make his way towards them. Harry gulps and tries to tame the butterflies that just took flight in his stomach.
“Jason there you are,” Louis says and wow his voice sounds exactly the same; breathy and soft, but with a slight rasp too it. It’s probably the most beautiful sound Harry has ever heard. “I was looking for you. We’re all going to meet in the locker room in about five minutes to go over the game.”
It’s only when Jason nods and says his goodbyes as he heads off for the locker room, that Louis takes notice of them. He crouches down so he’s more on David’s level before addressing him. “Hey little man, you must be Jason’s younger brother.” David half hides behind Harry’s leg and nods shyly. Which is odd. He’s never acted shy around anyone. Louis chuckles as he stands back up. “Are you the older brother?” He asks Harry.
There’s a beat of silence that passes between them because Harry’s so distracted by how blue Louis’ eyes are. Like, Harry already knew that of course, but they’re just really blue. “Oh, um, no I’m not,” Harry shakes his head. “I’m just his teacher. He invited me along.”
Louis nods like it’s a completely normal thing for a student to invite their teacher to their sibling’s soccer game. “I’m Louis.” He extends his hand in between them.
Harry has to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying ‘I know’ as he takes Louis’ hand into his own. It sends a jolt throughout his body, like each individual nerve is being lit on fire. He can’t believe he’s still this effected by Louis after not seeing him for six years. “Harry.”
After they’ve dropped their hands, Louis just stares. Harry squirms, feeling awkward under Louis’ gaze and he fiddles with the hem of his shirt just to have something to do.
“You look familiar,” Louis says. “Have we met?”
“Not, like, officially,” Harry explains. “We went to highschool together.”
Louis quirks a brow. “Did we?”
“Yeah, um,” Harry bites his lip, feeling oddly like the dork he was back in high school. He reaches out to grab David’s hand again when he notices he had wandered off. “I was a grade below you so you probably don’t remember me.”
He’s staring again. While it’s nice to have so much of Louis’ attention directly on him, it’s also a lot. Louis needs to warn him before he just openly stares at him. But then his eyes are widening and he’s snapping his fingers together. “I remember you now. You’re the one with the gold boots.”
Harry has to snap his mouth shut because he jaw just fell to the ground. He can’t believe Louis remembers that. Of course Harry remembers it, he’ll never forget it. It was one of the top five best moments of his life. But never in a million years would he have thought Louis would remember that.
Harry had left in the middle of class to use the restroom. Louis happened to be going out as Harry was going in, just barely escaped ramming into each other. They stood there for a second just looking at each other. Harry having a mental breakdown because he was alone with Louis.
Then Louis glanced down and then back up at Harry before saying, “cool boots.” Harry was wearing the gold boots he just bought the weekend prior. They cost a fucking arm and a leg but he fell in love with them the instant his eyes landed on them in the shop window. He had to have them.
By the time Harry’s brain decided to return from it’s little vacation, he was able to mutter a thanks but Louis was long gone by then.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Harry confirms. “I actually still have them.”
“It’s funny,” Louis says, the corners of his mouth lifting up. “I remember you being a lot more curly.”
Harry reaches up with his free hand to tug on one of the stubborn curls behind his ear. “You should have seen me in college, I grew it out past my shoulders. I cut it all off when I started teaching though.”
A sly smile spreads across Louis’ lips and it makes something strange curl in Harry’s gut. “That’s a shame. I really did like those curls.”
He’s blushing. Harry’s honestly standing here blushing because Louis complimented the hair he doesn’t even have anymore. Before he has a chance to say anything in reply to that, David’s mom calls out for him saying that he needs to be getting home soon.
“Yeah, I should really get back to my boys. They’re probably wondering where the hell I am.” Louis says, using his thumb to point at the locker room over his shoulder. “It was really nice to catch up with you, Harry. Hopefully I’ll see you around soon.”
Harry chooses to ignore the way his heart jumps in his chest when Louis says his name. “You too.”
David leads the way to where his mom is waiting for them and he tugs on Harry’s hand to get his attention. “Are you going to be gay with my brother’s coach?”
Harry chokes. He doesn’t know what to say to that and he’s praying that they were far enough away that Louis didn’t hear it. He risks a quick look over his shoulder and the smirk he sees on Louis’ face just before he turns away tells him that Louis did, in fact, hear it.
--
“So Louis is back in town.”
He’s sitting at their usual corner booth at the bar and grill around the corner from his apartment. He and Liam—who’s been his best friend since kindergarten—have been coming here for lunch every other Saturday since the summer before they started college. Liam went off to Chicago for med school, but that’s only a little over an hour away and he still came back every other Saturday for their standing lunch date.
Liam is a cardiac surgeon, which Harry thinks is incredibly brave. No way would he feel comfortable enough to perform surgery on someone’s heart, like the actual thing that keeps them alive. He guesses that’s why Liam gets paid the big bucks.
Harry still doesn’t understand why Liam chose to stay here and work in their tiny excuse for a hospital instead of going to one of the big fancy ones in Chicago like he was offered. Liam says it’s because he wants to stay home, be close to his family, but Harry still thinks he’s crazy.
“Who?” Liam asks around the huge bite he just took of his burger. As someone who works with people’s hearts everyday, he should know first hand how bad burgers are for your heart. Harry isn’t one to talk since he ordered a burger as well, but at least he got sweet potato fries instead of regular ones.
“Louis Tomlinson.” Like Liam doesn’t know. Louis was literally all Harry could talk about back in high school.
But Liam just blinks like he doesn’t have a fucking clue in the world. He takes his napkin and uses it to wipe the ketchup dripping down his chin, and that’s when it hits him. “Oh! Are you talking about Tommo?”
Right. Tommo. It’s the nickname Louis had in high school and probably still has. Everyone called him Tommo. Even most of the teachers started joining in on it. But not Harry. Louis was always just Louis to him. Not like they ever talked or anything. “Yeah.”
“Didn’t he move to England?”
“I don’t know,” Harry says, flagging down their waitress, Lisa for a refill of his iced tea. “I think that may have just been a rumor.”
Liam shoves a few fries into his mouth “How do you know he is back?” He loves talking with his mouth full. It’s disgusting.
“Do you remember me telling you about David, that boy from my class?” Harry waits for Liam to nod in affirmation before he continues. “He invited me to a soccer game at the high school because his brother is on the team, and apparently Louis is the new coach.”
Liam places his half eaten burger back on his plate and focuses all his attention on Harry. “How do you feel about him being back?”
Honestly, Liam is the best friend in the world. He had to endure four years of Harry going on and on about Louis and he never complained about it. Actually that’s a total lie; he complained a lot, but he was really great about it and he was always there to listen.
And now Liam probably knows that Harry is having a lot of mixed feelings about Louis be back. Harry is having a lot of mixed feeling about Louis being back.
“I'm not sure,” Harry starts. He nibbles on a couple fries to stall time to try and get his thoughts together in his head. “When I realized it was really him on the field, I was transported back to my fourteen year old self with all these feelings for him. It was like nothing had changed at all.”
“Then I talked to him. We had an actual conversation and I didn't stumble over any of my words and he remembered me and it was a lot. So I obviously still have feelings for him. I don't think I ever got over him, which I know is pathetic, so yeah. I'm not sure how I feel about it.”
Liam reaches across the table and squeeze Harry’s hand comfortingly. “That's understandable. You had it bad for him in high school and suddenly seeing him again is probably bringing back all those feelings for you. But since you two talked, maybe you can be friends. And you know I'm here if you need anything.”
Harry thinks he might cry. Liam is the best.
They finish up their meal and they each get a free slice of pie to-go because Lisa loves them.
--
The day is only halfway through and Harry is already over it. He’s been over it since he woke up this morning with a throbbing headache that he hasn’t been able to get rid of. The last thing he needs is to be in a room full of rambunctious children when he has a headache. Actually, his kids are pretty well behaved, but still. And it’s just been one of those days where everything seems to go wrong.
It’s lunchtime and Harry is desperate for those thirty minutes to himself. He feels bad pawning his class off to the teacher next door to take to the cafeteria, but he needs this time to himself or he just might go crazy.
“Mr. Styles?” A very familiar voice says and Harry groans.
He swivels in his desk chair and plasters on a fake smile. “What’s up, David?”
David grins and rushes over to Harry’s desk, a piece of paper flapping in his hand. “I want to give you something.”
“Can you maybe give it to me later?” Harry asks, irritation slipping into his voice. “Everyone else is already lined up for lunch and you’re going to miss it if you don’t go right now. I can’t take you later.”
David’s bottom lip trembles and Harry’s heart plummets. He didn’t think he was being that harsh. “It’s just my brother’s soccer schedule so you know when all the games are if you want to come to another one. I’m sorry for bothering you, Mr. Styles.” Then he turns on his heel and runs out of the classroom. Harry drops his head onto his desk. Today really is the worst day.
--
The phone only rings once before it’s answered. “What is it, Harry? I’m a bit busy right now.”
“You’re not in surgery are you?” Harry asks, sitting up straight in his chair. Why didn’t he think of that? He’s calling Liam while he’s at work, of fucking course he’s going to be in surgery.
“Yes,” Liam replies curtly. “I am cutting open the heart of a forty-two-year-old woman.”
“Liam!” Harry gasps, his eyes widening in shock. “You’re not!”
“Of course not, Harry. I’d get fired for even thinking about bringing my phone into the OR.” Oh right, that makes sense. Harry sits back in his chair. “I’m just in my office doing some paperwork.”
“What time do you get off?”
“Whenever Johnson decides he wants to fucking show up,” Liam answers. “Hopefully in the next hour or so.”
“So you’d be off by say six?”
“Yeah most likely. Why? What’s up?”
“I was just wondering if you wanted to go to a soccer game with me tonight,” Harry rushes out in one breath.
He can hear the wicked grin spreading across Liam’s face before he speaks. “This wouldn't happen to be a high school soccer game would it? With a very hot soccer coach?”
God, Harry is squirming. He should have never told Liam that Louis is back, he knew he was going to get endlessly teased. “It’s possible.”
Liam laughs and Harry hates him. “Why do you want me to go with you?”
“Because I don’t want to be that weirdo going to a high school soccer game by himself,” Harry explains. Also, if Louis tries to talk to him again, he’ll have Liam there for emotional support.
“Alright fine,” Liam sighs. “I’ll just meet you there.”
Harry cheers. “Thank you. You’re the best friend ever.”
“I know.” Then Liam hangs up.
A few hours later, Harry is awkwardly standing by the gates to the soccer field waiting for Liam. He politely smiles at everyone who passes by him and hopes that his nerves aren’t as obvious as they feel.
He doesn’t really know why he’s nervous. This will be the third game he’s been to; including the very first one where Louis talked to him. Louis didn’t talk to him the second game, probably didn't even notice he was there. But it’s not like Harry was expecting Louis to talk to him, it just happened to be a very awkward and life altering coincidence that he did in the first place.
“Harry!”
He looks up when he hears his name called, but he doesn’t see Liam anywhere. There’s only a few people in the parking lot all of which are women. Harry frowns. Who the hell would be calling out to him?
When he hears his name again, his frown deepens. It comes from behind him and that’s definitely not Liam’s voice.
Harry turns around and sees Louis approaching the gate and his heart starts to beat doubletime because Louis is gorgeous. Harry thought he was good looking in high school, but that’s nothing on what he looks like now. He’s got this tight little body from playing soccer for so many years and stubble. Harry has always been weak for a man with facial hair; probably because he has trouble growing it himself. Louis is just incredibly sexy. Harry’s fucked if he ever thought he could get over him.
“Harry, hey,” Louis greets with a smile when he reaches the gate. “How are you?”
“I’m, uh, I’m good. Yeah, I’m good.” He was only trying to say two simple words and he’s already fucked up. “How are you?”
“I’m good too, thanks,” Louis responds, bouncing a bit in place. “Just excited for the game. I didn’t expect to see you here again.”
Before Harry has a chance to say anything to that, he hears a voice speak up from behind him. “Well you know Harry, he is the biggest soccer fan there is. He jumps at the chance to see a game.” Harry didn’t even hear Liam come up and he flushes at how Louis face’s brightens at Liam’s words. “I’m Liam by the way.”
Louis takes Liam’s outstretched hand “Louis. Are you two?” He points at Harry and then to Liam and then back to Harry.
Harry gasps when he realizes what Louis’ asking and he takes a tiny step away from Liam to put some space between them.
“Oh, no,” Liam says. “Although Harry is very handsome, he’s not exactly my type. We’ve just been best friends since we were born basically.”
Thank God for Liam, honestly. Harry loves him so much. From the moment he showed up, he instantly made Harry more relaxed because just being in the vicinity of Louis makes him nervous. And he’s making Harry seem like he isn’t a total creep, which he kind of is; showing up to these games just to see Louis. Harry doesn’t know shit about soccer.
They say goodbye to Louis and find somewhere to sit in the stands. It ends up being a decent game, Louis’ team winning. Harry would know because he actually paid attention to the game, not just to Louis. Although he was teased by Liam throughout the whole game. Harry takes back every nice thing he’s ever said about Liam; he is a terrible friend.
--
“Didn’t you go to school with Louis Tomlinson?”
Gemma is walking down the little aisle towards him in a pair of cobalt blue pumps that look incredible on her. Gemma has the best legs for heels and Harry will never admit out loud that he is jealous of that.
His sister is a big hotshot journalist that lives in Chicago with her cat, but she comes back to town to visit Harry and their mom very often. This weekend is one of those times.
The second she got into town, she picked Harry up at his apartment and they went out for lunch and they’ve been shopping ever since. They’re currently in a shoe store and Harry has found the most gorgeous pair of boots. He doesn’t need them, he has enough boots as it is, but oh boy does he want them. They’re a tan suede and they have tassels.
“Yeah I did,” Harry replies as he’s searching through the boxes for his size. Please have his size. “Why?”
“Apparently he’s back in town, like for good,” Gemma says like she still lives here and knows all the town gossip.
Of course there is only one left in Harry’s size and it’s all the way at the bottom. “How do you know that?” He’s able to pull the box out without the rest of them toppling over and he mentally fist pumps.
“I got my hair done this morning before I picked you up.” Gemma’s turning in circles to check out how the heels look on her in the little slanted mirror. Like she doesn’t already know they look great on her. “His sister works at the salon and I overheard her talking about it.”
Harry hums in response like he’s only half paying attention, like his heart didn’t start beating twice as fast at the mere mention of Louis. He slips on one of the boots and it’s a perfect fit, like fucking Cinderella’s slipper or something. He was kind of hoping that it wouldn’t fit so he has a reason not to buy them because he definitely doesn’t need them. But now there’s no way in hell that he’s walking out of the store without them.
He’s taking off his other shoe to try on the other boot, but when Gemma speaks again he’s so surprised by it that he almost knees himself in the face.
“Didn’t you have a crush on him?”
“No,” Harry mumbles. He can feel his face heating up so he fiddles with the paper inside the shoebox to to try and hide it from his sister. She notices of course.
“Don’t be embarrassed about it, Harry.” Gemma shoves at his shoulder playfully. “It was really cute.”
“I only went to highschool with you for one year. How could you have possibly known about that?” Harry asks. He might be pouting, but no one is able to tease him the way his sister does and he’s never been a very big fan of it.
Gemma slips off the blue pumps, becoming significantly shorter. “It was quite obvious. I’m pretty sure the whole school knew about it.”
It wasn’t obvious. And if it was, why didn’t anyone tell him he was making a fool of himself? His stomach sinks at the thought of the whole school knowing about it. What if Louis knew about it? He probably laughed with his friends about how an underclassmen had a pathetic crush on him.
They wrap up at the shoe store about thirty minutes later; Harry walking out wearing his new boots because it only took him about three seconds to fall madly in love with them.
--
Harry doesn’t feel so weird coming to the games anymore. By now, he’s been to every single one, except the away games because he does have a job and responsibilities of his own and he thinks going to the away games would be a little too much.
Occasionally, he’ll sit with David and his mom, but most of the time he’ll sneak in right before the game starts and sit in the back by himself. He understands the game a bit more now and actually gets really into it, rooting for the team to win and genuinely feeling upset when they lose. He looks forward to these games for more than just Louis now.
Currently, Harry is standing off to the side of the bleachers on the phone with his mom. She called him towards the end off the game, so he snuck off to the side to not distract anyone. He must have been on the phone a lot longer than he realized, because after he slides his phone back into his pocket after hanging up with his mom, he looks up to see the parking lot almost empty.
When he rounds the corner of the bleachers he almost runs directly into Louis. He has his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and he’s dressed normally. He’s not in his usual soccer gear but in a tshirt and jeans. Black skinny jeans that hug all his curves perfectly and Harry really needs to look away before things get awkward.
Harry opens his mouth to apologize for almost bumping into him but the words never make it out because he sees the wide grin on Louis’ face. They’ve talked at every game Harry has been to and the few where they haven’t talked; Louis spotted him in the stands and waved. Harry is still having a hard time grasping the fact that Louis actually seeks him out and is happy to see him.
“Hey,” Louis says, still smiling that smile that makes Harry a little weak in the knees. “I was hoping that I’d bump into you.”
Harry’s sure that his eyes are comically wide and Louis can probably hear how loudly his heart is beating. But Louis just casually says these things sometimes and it surprises the hell out of him. “You were?”
Louis laughs and it’s this high, beautiful thing like tinkling bells or wind chimes, just something that Harry wants to hear for the rest of his life. “Yeah I was. Are you doing anything right now?”
Well, he kind of has plans. His mom invited him over for dinner tonight; that was the whole point of her phone call just now, but that’s his mom. He sees her all time; makes a point to spend time with her once a week. And here is this boy that Harry is completely fucking gone for potentially about to ask him to hang out and well, Harry is going to have to blow off his mom. She’d understand though because this is Louis. “No, not really. Why?”
“Do you know Niall Horan?” Louis asks, “He was one of my best friends in high school.”
Harry closes his eyes and pictures the very loud, very energetic blonde boy that was always with Louis back in high school. Harry has never spoken to Niall, but he remembers everyone going on and on about how he’s just a genuinely nice guy. “Yeah, I remember him.”
“He’s having this little barbecue get together thing because he bought this new grill that he needs to show off to everyone. Anyway, he said I could invite some people, so you wanna come with me?”
He’s stunned. Literally stunned into silence. When Louis asked him if he was doing anything, he kind of assumed that Louis was going to ask to hang out but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Now that Louis actually has asked, Harry doesn’t know what to say. “Sure.”
The smile Louis gives him at that is so wide that his eyes turn into tiny little slits. Harry follows along behind Louis in his car to Niall’s house. There’s several cars parked in the driveway and along the street in front when they arrive so they have to park a couple houses down.
Harry tries not to think about how he and Louis arriving together might look to everyone else. He has to keep reminding himself that this isn’t a date; they aren’t far enough into a friendship for that to happen. Harry doesn’t even know if Louis is single or not, but knowing his luck, he’s probably not.
Louis leads him through the side gate and into the backyard. A long picnic table is sat in the middle of the yard, most people sitting around it, but there’s a few others scattered around in lawn chairs or sprawled out on the grass. There’s a dark haired guy standing at the large silver grill, flipping burgers and singing along to the music that’s playing and he turns around at the sound of the gate clicking closed.
“Tommo!” He shouts, setting down his tongs and walking over to where Harry and Louis are standing off to the side of the patio. “Glad you could finally make it.”
“Oh fuck off, Nialler,” Louis says with an eye roll pulling who Harry now realizes is Niall—he looks way different than he did in high school—into a hug. “You know I had a game tonight.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Niall’s eyes slip from Louis to Harry and Harry sees something like realization flicker in Niall’s gaze. “Who’s this then?” He says it like he knows exactly who Harry is and that stirs up a bubble of nervous excitement in Harry’s gut.
Louis places a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezes gently. “This is my friend, Harry.”
Niall smiles, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Nice to meet ya, man,” he says, slapping Harry on the back. “Now, food is over there,” he points to a table piled high with plates upon plates of food. “Beer and soda and every other kind of drink you can think of are in the ice buckets. So grab a plate and make yourself at home.”
Harry ends up staying at Niall’s much longer than he originally planned, hours after the sun has set. He actually feels comfortable there, like he's part of the group. Most of the people there are more of Louis and Niall’s friends from high school, some of which Harry recognizes as Louis takes him around and introduces him to everyone.
He eats way too much, especially the potato salad that Niall’s mom made. It’s the best potato salad Harry has ever tasted and it’s hard from him to stop once he takes the first bite. He’s a little ashamed to admit that he’s eaten almost half the bowl.
There’s a little boy who can’t be any older than three or four running around that yard with a small foam soccer ball. Harry quickly comes to find out that he’s Niall’s nephew Theo and the time Harry doesn’t spend talking with Louis, he spends chasing a giggling Theo through the yard.
Louis drives Harry back to the school for his car and Harry would be lying if he said that he didn’t hope Louis would kiss him when he drops him off. He knows he won’t of course, but a tiny part of him thinks that maybe Louis wants that too. But when they exchange numbers, Harry can feel the shift in their friendship and that sends a tingle through his veins.
By the time Harry arrives back at his apartment, he has a text from Louis waiting on his phone that sends him to sleep with a smile.
Had a lot of fun with you tonight ! I’ll see you at the game next week !
--
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Corden?’
Harry steps into the office when Mr. Corden nods and motions for him to come inside and settles himself into the chair in front of the desk.
“Harry, how many times have I asked you to call me James?”
“Too many times to count, sir.”
Mr. Corden smiles as he leans back in his chair, “You’re never going to do it, are you?’
“Probably not,” Harry says. He likes to remain professional while at work and he doesn’t call any of the teachers there by their first name. Even though Harry would consider Mr. Corden to be one of his close friends, he still won’t call him James while at work.
“Well,” Mr. Corden begins, his professional voice seeping in. “The reason I called you in here is because of one of the girls in your class; Ashley Garrett.” Harry nods, instantly picturing Ashley in his head. She’s very sweet and a bit shy. She usually keeps to herself and doesn’t talk much during class, but she’s incredibly bright. “I had a meeting with her parents this morning and they seem to think that she is being bullied.”
Harry gasps. He can’t imagine anyone bullying her, she’s the sweetest little girl. He already felt pretty protective of her because of her shyness, but this makes him feel even more protective, as if she’s his own daughter. “I haven’t noticed any signs of bullying.”
“I want you to keep a close eye on Ashley,” Mr. Corden says, a deep frown on his face. “And if you do see anything, I need you to notify me immediately.”
They finish up their meeting shortly after that and Harry leaves the office with a heavy feeling in his heart.
--
The following day, Harry finally sees it happen. It’s lunchtime and he’s sitting at the teacher’s table angled towards the table where his class is sitting. He has the perfect view of Ashley where she is sat at the very end of the table talking to one of the boys in the class.
Everything seems to be going just fine for the most part; she’s just munching on her sandwich and chatting with her friend. Harry is just about to give up when it happens.
Two girls sitting at the next table over, behind Ashley, turn around and poke her in the shoulder. As soon as Ashley turns to face them she frowns and turns back around. Her posture has taken a complete 180; her back is straight and rigid, a deep from set on her face.
Ashley has very long blonde hair that she always wears in braided pigtails. Every single day. Always pigtails. The only thing that changes is the color of the little bows tied at the ends. When the two girls realize that Ashley isn't going to pay them any attention, they begin to pull on her pigtails. Not teasingly either, they yank on it so much so that Ashley’s head jerks back with it.
Just seeing two seconds of this and Harry has had enough. He can't stand bullying in any sense and he's seething.
Even though he really wants to, Harry doesn't raise his voice when he reprimands the girls. He lets them know that what they were doing is not okay by any means and if they continue to do it they will be severely punished.
He squats down to Ashley’s level as he moves over to address her. “Hey, are you doing okay?” She gives a small nod without taking her eyes off the table and Harry frowns. “You don’t look like you’re okay. How about I get you another pudding cup, would that make you feel better?”
She looks up and gives him a little smile. That’s progress. He squeezes her shoulder before getting up heading towards the lunch line and grabbing two chocolate pudding cups. He gives one to Ashley and one to her friend.
--
When it’s lunchtime the next day, Harry gets an idea. Ashley is the last one left in the classroom while the rest of the kids are lining up in the hallway because she’s struggling to get her lunch box out of her cubby.
Harry approaches her and takes her lunch box out of the cubby for her. “You brought your lunch today?” He asks her as he hands over the lunch box.
“Yeah,” she answers in a small voice. “My mom made it for me.”
“Well that was nice of her,” Harry says. “How do you feel about staying in here with me for lunch today? We can eat together.” Teachers are not allowed to keep students in their classroom during lunch unless it’s to work on coursework, but Harry has a feeling that Mr. Corden will be okay with this.
Ashley looks a little confused by Harry’s question for a moment, but then she's smiling and nodding her head yes. Harry tells the teacher from next door to go ahead and take the rest of his kids to the cafeteria.
“I just got this new coloring book,” Harry says to Ashley when he comes back into the classroom. “Do you like Disney princesses?”
“I do! ” Ashley responds excitedly.
Harry smiles as he takes the coloring book out of his messenger bag and places it on the desk Ashley has situated herself into. He walks over to the side of the classroom where all the storage containers are and grabs the boxes that house the crayons and markers. “Who is your favorite?”
Ashley gets the cutest little look on her face while she thinks, her finger tapping against her chin. “Ariel.”
“She's my favorite too,” Harry says, sliding into the desk next to Ashley's. “I always wished I could be a mermaid.”
“You can't be a mermaid,” Ashley giggles. “You're a boy!”
Harry gasps and places his hand over his heart. “Boys can be mermaids too.”
“They can?” Ashley turns to look at him, her eyes wide.
“Of course they can,” Harry nods. “Boys can be anything they aspire to be. Girls too.”
“Okay,” Ashley says and then she begins to dig through the tub of crayons, pulling out a red one. “I think you'd make a very pretty mermaid, Mr. Styles.”
Harry is actually flattered by that. He thinks he would make a pretty mermaid, too.
It's fairly quiet after that, the two of them eating their lunch and coloring. Ashley is working on a picture of Ariel with Flounder, while Harry’s doing one of Cinderella on the next page over.
He hears his phone vibrate from where it’s laying on his desk and he stands up from the smaller child’s desk he is currently sitting at—his back already aching—and grabs his phone.
It's a text from Louis, and Harry’s heart stops when he sees it. The text reads: one of the perks of not having to be at work until 2 is that you get to sleep in till noon. That’s not all though, he also sent a selfie along with it, but not just any selfie. It’s a shirtless selfie. Of him in bed. His hair rumpled and sticking up in the back, his face sleepy and soft.
Harry can't breathe. He already knows Louis is gorgeous, but seeing him like this; shirtless and having just woken up, all Harry can think about is how he wants to wake up next to that everyday for the rest of his life. And honestly, Louis’ collarbones should be illegal.
After getting his breathing under control and stopping his dick from reacting to the picture, Harry’s finally able to reply. Yeah, well, I'm halfway through my day and you haven't even started yet.
He slides back into the desk next to Ashley and continues working on his Cinderella picture. He texts back and forth with Louis for the rest of the lunch period and by the time it’s over, he sends Ashley out to recess because he can’t exactly deprive her of that.
--
It’s nine o'clock on a Thursday night and Harry is staring at bags of frozen fruit. He was cleaning his kitchen, fully prepared to turn in early and get a decent amount of sleep, when he noticed his cabinets were empty. Like completely bare. The only food he had was two bananas that looked about three days away from being too brown and mushy to eat. So he changed into a shirt with a few less holes than the one he was wearing and drove to the grocery store.
Now, he's standing in the frozen section trying to decide what kind of fruit he wants for his morning smoothies. He usually uses fresh fruit, but he has to wash it and cut it and then add ice because it's not cold enough. Getting frozen would make life so much easier. He just didn't realize that there were so many different types of frozen fruit. He finally goes with mixed berries and tosses a couple of bags into his shopping cart.
Although he changed shirts, he's still wearing a pair of dirty sweatpants and his slippers because he didn't even think about putting on a proper pair of shoes. The grocery store closes in an hour so it's not like he's going to see anyone. Even if he does, it won't be anyone important.
Seeing as it’s almost closing time, there's only one checkout lane open. From where Harry is standing looking at an end cap of ground coffee, it seems like there's only one person in line. He adds the coffee to his cart as well and heads for the checkout.
Forget all about seeing anyone important, because the person in line in front of him buying a twelve pack of beer, a tub of ice cream, a bag of Haribo gummy bears, and a premade salad; is no other than Louis fucking Tomlinson. Today is just his lucky day. He's waiting for the old man to come out with his giant check.
Maybe if Harry stays as still as possible and pretends to be distracted by flipping through a magazine, then Louis won't notice he's there. He guesses they're kind of friends now. Like, they've hung out a few times after Niall’s barbecue and they text quite a lot so that makes them friends, right? He still gets crazy butterflies whenever he's around Louis. And when he sees Louis turn to face him out of the corner of his eye, he knows his distraction plan has gone to shit.
“Isn't that a bit hard to read upside down?”
Harry frowns. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Just when he's closing the magazine to place it back on the rack, he notices he was holding it upside down. And it's Women’s Health. Harry is all about staying healthy and exercising and all that, but he's not a woman, and he definitely isn't interested in the sex tips. Today just keeps getting better and better.
“Um, yeah a little bit,” Harry says, turning to face Louis, willing the flush in his cheeks to go away. “You buying all the essentials?” He gestures to items Louis is buying.
“I sure am,” Louis responds. “Gummy bears are a must have. Are you stocking up for the winter?” He eyes Harry’s shopping cart which is very close to overflowing. He may have gone a bit overboard, but he has a lot of coupons.
Louis pays for his items and walks right out the door. Harry’s heart doesn’t sink because Louis didn’t say goodbye; that would be silly. It takes a bit longer for him to checkout due to the insane amount of things he’s buying and all of his coupons.
“Hey,” Louis says from where he’s sitting on a bench outside the store when Harry walks out through the automatic doors. He’s so startled he almost drops his shopping bags, his eggs would have had no chance.
Harry swivels around and there’s Louis, walking up to him and popping a handful of gummy bears in his mouth. “Hi. I thought you left.”
“Nah,” Louis shrugs one shoulder, reaching out to help Harry with his bags. “Was waiting for you.”
Harry’s stomach flips. Louis didn’t say goodbye because he wasn’t leaving, he was waiting for him. The butterflies are going crazy. “Waiting for me?”
“Yeah, I wanted to know if you’re doing anything tonight.”
Unless going home and sleeping is doing anything, then no. If Louis is offering to sleep with him than he would be okay with that. Sleep as in actually going to sleep together. He definitely wouldn't be opposed to sleeping together as in having sex either, but he highly doubts that will ever happen. Louis doesn’t like him that way. “Not really. Why?”
“Well, I’ve got beer and ice cream—” he holds them up to prove it “—and I need someone to share it with.”
“What about the gummy bears?”
“No,” Louis says sharply. “The gummy bears are mine. I don’t share.”
It’s almost ten at night and Harry has to be up early for work in the morning. He really shouldn’t be drinking, especially with Louis of all people. Then again, it is Louis and Harry doesn’t really know how to say no to him. “Can you just give me like five minutes to run my groceries home?”
“Of course,” Louis nods as he helps Harry load his bags into the trunk of his car. “I’ll text you the address of where you can meet me.”
By the time Harry is pulling up to the address Louis texted him, he’s really confused. He’s on the very edge of town and there isn’t much out here. To his left there’s nothing but fields for as far as he can see and to his right are about six really old houses and a water tower. Does Louis live in one of these houses?
He parks at the curb behind Louis’ car and meets Louis on the sidewalk. “Which one is yours?”
Louis raises a brow. “Huh?”
“Which house is yours?” Harry clarifies.
“I don’t live here.”
Okay, now Harry is even more confused. “Then why are we here?”
Louis smirks and points towards the water tower. “We’re going up there.”
No. No way in hell. “What? We can’t just go up there. Surely that isn’t legal.” He doesn’t want to get arrested. Liam’s cousin is a cop though, so maybe he’d be able to sweet talk himself out of it.
“I’m not really sure if it is or not,” Louis says, starting towards the water tower. Harry follows after him without any hesitation because he’s just drawn to Louis like a moth to a flame. “There aren’t any signs saying that we can’t though.”
As Louis climbs the ladder, Harry eyes the tower a little warily. It’s old and rusty and a few of the railings around the top are broken. With a few strong gusts of wind, this thing would probably knock right over. And it’s tall, like really tall, about three times the height of the houses next to it. That makes Harry’s stomach churn; he’s never been the biggest fan of heights.
Louis is already halfway up the ladder when he glances up again. It seems to be holding up pretty well for him, so hopefully it does the same for Harry. But Harry is a little bit bigger than Louis is and he’s afraid that he might be a bit too much and the ladder will just buckle and give away under his weight. Falling and breaking a limb or snapping his neck doesn’t sound all that appealing.
He grips onto the rung of the ladder that is directly in front of him and mentally psychs himself up. If he thinks about it too long he knows he’ll just talk himself out of it, so with a deep breath he just fucking goes for it. Honestly, the things Harry does for a pretty boy. Well, this pretty boy in general.
The first thing he notices when he reaches the top is how windy it is. On the ground you could barely feel a slight breeze, but it’s about five times that up here. Which makes sense because there is less to obstruct the wind up here than there is on the ground, but Harry didn’t think it would be quite this windy.
Louis has comfortably sat himself in a spot on the walkway, his feet dangling over the edge. It’s a little too far from the ladder for Harry’s liking—he didn’t want to actually walk around up here—but he grips the railing tightly and doesn’t look down as he slowly makes his way to Louis. He’s greeted with a crinkly eyed smile and a plastic spoon from Louis as he sits down.
If he looks straight out he’s fine because he doesn't notice how high up he is. He’s sure he would be okay if he looks down too, but he doesn’t even want to risk it. Way off in the distance, Harry can just make out the buildings of a skyline. He doesn’t think it’s Chicago, it’s too far away for that and he thinks it’s in the opposite direction anyway, but it’s definitely a city. Harry wonders if there is a boy in that city that’s currently facing one of his biggest fears, but feels safe doing it because of the other boy he’s with.
“Wanna beer?” Louis asks, handing Harry a bottle.
Harry takes it with a smile along with the plastic spoon he was offered earlier. The ice cream Louis bought is chocolate with fudge swirls and brownie chunks. So it’s chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, which is a little too much for Harry in regards for ice cream, but he eats it anyway.
They eat ice cream and drink beer and talk a little bit about everything. Harry is definitely drinking way more than he should on a work night, but being with Louis is well worth it. He doesn’t even know how late it’s gotten, it must be a least midnight by now. Good thing he just bought that coffee, he’s certainly going to need it in the morning.
“Harry?”
He’s just scooped up some ice cream and he turns to Louis with the spoon halfway to his mouth. Harry doesn’t get a chance to say anything, to even think about saying anything before Louis’ kissing him.
The spoon falls from Harry’s hand and he's pretty sure the glob of ice cream just landed on his grey sweatpants, but he doesn't give two shits about that because Louis is kissing him. Harry has wanted this for almost ten years, he can't believe this is really happening. Is he dreaming?
He licks into Louis’ mouth with fervor, groaning deep in this throat. Louis tastes like chocolate and beer which should be gross, but it's intoxicating because it's mixed with the underlying taste of Louis.
Out of nowhere, Louis climbs into Harry’s lap and Harry’s hands go straight to Louis’ ass like they were made for it. When he squeezes a cheek in each palm, Louis whimpers into his mouth so Harry does it again and again.
With Louis wriggling in his lap and nipping at his lips, hands tugging in his hair, Harry is well on his way to being hard. He's sure Louis can feel it too with the way he's grinding against him.
There's sweat beading on the back of his neck and his lungs are about to burst because he can't breathe. Even though it pains him, he has to pull away for a second to compose himself. As soon as he breaks the kiss, Louis ducks down to mouth against Harry’s neck.
“Louis,” Harry groans, hands still squeezing at Louis’ ass. “Maybe we should get down from here.”
By the time they make it back on the ground, Harry feels ten times more at ease not being a million feet in the air. It was probably more like one hundred and twenty feet, but it felt more like a million.
They barely make it back to their cars before Louis is pushing Harry up against this side of his and kissing him hotly. It doesn’t last as long as Harry would like, but it still makes his head spin.
Louis says goodbye then climbs into his car and drives away, leaving Harry standing there trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
--
They don’t talk about it, the kiss. It’s been a week since it happened and neither one of them say a word about it.
That doesn’t mean that Harry isn’t thinking about it, because he’s constantly thinking about it. Louis though, Louis acts like it didn’t even happen at all. Whenever he sees Harry, he acts totally normal, like they didn't make out for half an hour on the top of a water tower. Like that's not completely life changing or anything.
To be honest, Harry has been too afraid to say anything about it. He thinks that maybe Louis regrets this kiss and that’s why he hasn’t mentioned it. But Harry is desperate for something to happen because he now can’t have a conversation with Louis without staring at his lips. He knows the way those lips feel against his own, the way they feel dragging down his neck and he needs to feel that again.
A game has just ended and Harry is sitting in the bleachers by himself. Louis has asked him to stick around so they can grab a bite to eat afterwards, so now Harry is just waiting for Louis to finish up in the locker room. He also plans on asking Louis about the kiss and to say he’s nervous would be an understatement.
Louis finally emerges from the locker room and joins Harry on the bleachers. He came out a lot quicker than Harry was hoping because he hasn’t finished going through this conversation in his head; looks like he’s just going to have to wing it.
“Are you ready to go?” Louis asks.
“Yeah,” Harry’s voice betrays him on just that one word. “Can I talk to you about something first?”
Louis must be able to hear the nerves in Harry’s voice because he swivels on the bench to face him fully, concern evident on his face. “Of course. You okay?”
Harry nods his head, his bangs flopping into his eyes because he couldn’t be bothered to gel them back this morning. “I’m fine, I just wanted to talk to you about the kiss the other day. Like when we kissed. I was wondering why we haven’t spoken about it since.”
“Oh,” Louis deflates, just his entire body deflates and he’s kind of slumped over himself. “I don’t know—”
“It’s okay if you regret it,” Harry butts in. “I would have liked to have known a little earlier, but I’m not upset it.” That’s a lie. He would be incredibly upset to have experienced what kissing Louis is like just to have Louis regret it and then he’ll never be able to experience it again.
“No, I don’t regret it. Not at all,” Louis says. “I’ve just been kind of nervous to talk to you about it because I have a little bit of a crush on you and I was scared that maybe you didn’t feel the same way.”
Harry stops breathing. His heart stops. Everything comes to a stop and it’s just him and Louis. The words a little bit of a crush on you bouncing around on a loop in Harry’s head. He never thought in a million years that Louis would like him back. What did he do in a previous life for something this incredible to happen to him?
He doesn’t know how to continue about his day as normal, let alone how to open his mouth to reassure Louis that he definitely feels the same way. The fucking butterflies in his stomach are on a rampage and he can’t think. “Why would you think I don’t feel the same way?” Harry’s finally able to get out. “I kissed you back.”
“Well yeah, but we had been drinking a little bit so I didn’t know if it was just a drunken thing,” Louis explains, fiddling with the strap on his duffle bag. “You never mentioned it so I never mentioned it.”
“Louis,” Harry says, reaching out to take Louis’ hand into his own. It’s a bold move and any other time he’d be way too terrified to actually do it, but now he doesn't even think about it. “I feel the same way. I have for a really long time actually.”
“What?” Louis asks, turning it on him. “You have?”
Harry chuckles. If Gemma was right about everyone knowing that Harry had a crush on Louis, then Louis is oblivious. “Yes. I had the biggest crush on you back in high school. Still do apparently.”
Louis scoots a bit closer to Harry on the bench, his lips curling into a smile. “Yeah? So if we were to kiss again you would be cool with that?”
“I would be very cool with that,” Harry replies, closing the tiny bit of distance between them so their thighs are touching. Thost butterflies start up in his stomach again. “Super cool even.”
“Super cool, huh?” Louis says as he leans in. Harry doesn’t have time to respond to that because his mouth is otherwise occupied.
--
“When were you planning on telling me about the boy you're seeing?”
It's Saturday morning and Harry is at his mom’s house. Gemma is in town this weekend and it’s kind of become a tradition for them to have breakfast at their mom’s house every Saturday morning that she's in town.
His mom had breakfast ready on the table by the time he showed up and that's where he currently is, munching on a slice of bacon, his mom sitting across the table from him.
Gemma is at the counter making another pot of coffee, but after hearing their mom’s question she turns around to face Harry with a smirk on her face. Why did Harry get cursed with the worst sister ever?
“How did you know?” No. He didn't mean to say that. He sighs and lays his head down on the table. “I meant; I don't know what you're talking about.”
He feels his mom squeeze his hand from where it’s also lying on the table. “I’m a mom, so I know everything. Plus, you’re glowing.”
“You are glowing,” Gemma chimes in. Harry lifts his head to scowl at her. He didn’t ask for her input.
“It’s not a bad thing, honey,” his mom continues. “You just look really happy. And you also look like you’ve been getting some.”
That makes Harry sit up again. “Mom!” He groans, his face flushing. He can hear Gemma trying to hide her laughter behind her hand. Can a bolt of lightning just strike him now? He hates being ganged up on by two of his family members. “We haven’t done that.”
“Is it Louis?” Gemma asks, fully into the conversation now and no longer making that new pot of coffee. Harry takes back the thing he thought about the lightning; he wants it to strike Gemma instead.
“Who is Louis?” His mom pipes up from across the table.
“Harry’s new boyfriend,” Gemma says.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Harry corrects, ignoring the bubble of excitement that word causes to erupt in his chest. They haven’t discussed it, but Harry knows they’re something because people don’t just kiss all the time without it meaning anything. Right?
Gemma raises and eyebrow, a smug smile on her lips; “So you’re admitting that it is Louis?”
“Who is Louis?” His mom repeats, more stern this time.
“He’s that boy Harry was obsessed with in high school,” Gemma answers.
Mom looks confused for a beat before her eyes widen with understanding. “Is he the one that was in all those plays you kept going to?”
Harry refuses to acknowledge that with a response, but he didn’t even need to worry about it because Gemma does it herself. “That’s the one.”
The rest of the morning goes similarly; both his mom and his sister bombarding him with questions about Louis. There isn’t a lack of teasing either. And when it’s time for Harry to leave to meet Liam for lunch, he has never been more grateful to leave his family.
--
Louis is on the sidelines, placing towels and bottles of water onto the benches. Harry takes a deep breath and sticks his hands inside the pockets of his jacket before walking out onto the field towards him.
Louis looks up when he hears Harry approaching and a wide smile spreads out across his face that makes Harry’s heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” Louis greats softly, reaching out to wrap an arm around Harry’s waist and bringing their bodies flush together. He places a chaste but bruising kiss against Harry’s lips, because that’s a thing they do now. Kiss whenever and wherever they feel like it. Harry can’t believe this is his life; his high school self would be pissing himself. They haven’t defined their relationship yet, just kind of jumped into it head first. Harry likes to think that they are boyfriends. Really, really hopes that Louis is his boyfriend, but he’s a little too afraid to ask. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Um,” he starts, suddenly feeling very nervous. “I just thought I’d help you set everything up.” It’s a lie. He’s really here because he wanted to see Louis, even though he just saw him this morning when Louis stopped by his class to bring him coffee and donuts. Louis is the sweetest most thoughtful person.
Louis laughs and drops his arm from around Harry’s waist. Harry takes a step closer, still wanting to feel Louis’ warmth. “There isn’t much left to set up. I’ve kind of already done everything.”
“Oh,” Harry says, eyes dropping to the red synthetic running track they’re standing on as heat floods his cheeks. He’s an idiot. So, so stupid for coming out here early. “Well, we can still hang out though right?”
There’s a finger being placed underneath his chin, lifting his head so his eyes meet Louis’. The overcast sky is making them seem more of a grey-blue than the bright cerulean they normally are, but they still take Harry’s breath away. “Of course.”
They start out sitting on the bleachers talking about their days, Louis telling Harry about how two of the boys on the team almost got into a fist fight during practice that afternoon. But somehow, talking turns into kissing, which turns into full on making out with a bit of heavy petting. This is the farthest they've ever gone. Sure, they've made out a little before, but nothing like this; nothing that could possibly lead to more. And now they’re underneath the bleachers and Louis has Harry pressed up against one of the posts that holds them up, their lips locked.
It’s filthy. The wet, slick sounds of their mouths moving together is filling Harry’s ears and he can't get enough. Louis’ lips are moving along the curve of Harry’s jaw, and when he bites down on the tender skin behind Harry’s ear, Harry swears and stars dance behind his closed eyelids.
Louis’ hand drops from Harry’s neck to his crotch and his fingers play along the outline of his quickly filling cock. Harry gasps as his head falls backwards against the post, Louis getting him fully hard in a matter of seconds.
Louis is grinding his palm down on Harry’s cock, his mouth still wetly sucking against Harry’s neck, and Harry is going to come in his pants. He’s going to come in his pants underneath the high school bleachers. But then Louis’ hand stops and Harry whines, he was so close. He feels Louis’ fingers pop open the button on his jeans and then tug the zip down, suddenly feeling very cold when Louis takes a step back.
“This okay?” He hears Louis ask, as his fingers just barely dip under the waistband of Harry’s underwear.
Scrunching his brow in confusion, Harry opens his eyes to see Louis staring back at him. His lips bright red, wet and shiny, and his eyes are completely blown out, hair disheveled and sticking out in every direction. He’s fucking gorgeous. Any other time, Harry would love the fact that Louis’ being so caring and thoughtful, but arousal is swooping so low in his belly that he can’t think straight. The only thing he cares about right now is how badly he wants, needs, Louis’ hands on him. “Yes. God. Please.”
Apparently that’s all the confirmation Louis needs because he’s diving back in, claiming Harry’s mouth and forcefully slipping his tongue inside. He yanks down Harry’s jeans and boxers to his knees in one go, Harry’s cock slapping up against his stomach. He feels Louis’ hand wrap around him, stripping hard and fast. The drag of it a little too dry and rough, but god, it feels spectacular.
Harry keens into Louis’ mouth, his hips thrusting to meet each one of Louis’ sharp tugs. He feels his orgasm quickly hurtling towards him like a freight train, but he doesn’t want to come yet. Not until he gets his hands on Louis.
With some extreme difficulty, he breaks out of their searing kiss, but Louis only takes that as a chance to mouth over Harry’s collarbones. Harry wishes Louis would slow down because he can’t think, can’t fucking function with how good Louis’ making him feel.
“Louis,” Harry whispers. “Lou. Wanna—” he gasps when Louis bites down particularly hard on the juncture between his shoulder and neck. “Wanna touch you, too.”
Louis drops his hand and takes a small step backwards, causing Harry to whimper at the loss. He watches as Louis tugs his shorts down just far enough for his own cock to pop free. Harry moans at the sight of it because it’s so pretty. Thick and pink with a hefty vein running along the underside, wet and shiny at the tip.
There’s a countless number of times where Harry had fantasized about this very moment back in high school, and he can’t believe this is really happening to him right now. He may not live through this.
The sound Louis lets out when Harry closes his fist around him is simultaneously the most obscene yet beautiful thing Harry has ever heard.
It’s a little awkward to try and kiss each other and jerk each other off at the same time, but it works and it’s mind-numbingly good. Louis knows the right way to stroke Harry just the way he likes, and Harry thinks he’s doing a pretty good job to Louis as well, because Louis can’t seem to control the string of obscenities and moans tumbling out of his mouth that Harry’s catching with his own.
Harry bites down hard on Louis’ bottom lip when he finally comes, body going slack against the post behind him. He feels Louis follow literal seconds later, can feel Louis’ come dripping and sliding against his stomach and thighs, dirty and perfect.
He’s completely useless as Louis cleans them up with the small towel that was around his shoulders. It’s like an out of body experience when Louis tucks him back into his boxer briefs and fastens his jeans for him. He sighs happily into Louis’ neck, feeling pleased and sated, when Louis wraps his arms around him, hugging him against his body. He’s always extremely tactile post-coital.
A car door slamming in the distance jolts Harry out of his sex induced haze, his brain finally catching up to him and realizing what he’s just done. He just got off underneath the bleachers at the high school, where anyone could see. He just had public sex. Shame washes over him, instantly making him feel wrong and gross.
“Oh my god,” Harry says, shoving Louis off him.
Louis stumbles back and looks at Harry with a furrowed brow. “What's wrong?”
What’s wrong? Can Louis not understand how unethical this is. “We just had sex, Louis. In public. Under the bleachers. At a goddamn high school.”
“Yeah,” Louis smirks, closing the distance between them and reaching out for Harry’s hips. “And it was amazing.”
Well, he's not wrong. It was pretty fucking amazing, but that's not the point right now. “Louis, you don't understand. I'm a first grade teacher. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Hey,” Louis says softly, pulling Harry even closer against his chest. “No one saw us. Nobody knows what happened besides the two of us. And I'm certainly not going to tell anyone. I don't want anyone to know because I don't particularly feel like sharing you to be honest.”
Harry's heart swells at that, he doesn't want to share Louis either. He knows Louis’ right and he may have overreacted just a tad. Plus, now that he's thinking about it, the thought of getting caught, of someone seeing them, sends a little thrill up Harry’s spine.
Voices drifting over from the parking lot cause them to separate and Harry pouts because he knows Louis’ going to have to leave him now.
“I've got to go meet the boys in the locker room,” Louis voices Harry’s thoughts aloud. “You staying for the game?”
Harry nods. “Of course.”
“Great,” Louis leans in to kiss him. “I'll text you later.”
With one last kiss that's way too short for Harry’s liking, Louis is turning around and heading for the locker room.
Harry is uncomfortable throughout the entire game. Not because he still feels weird about what happened. He's over it. It was just a couple of innocent handjobs and like Louis said, they were alone and they're the only ones who know about it and it's going to stay that way. Besides, Harry’s pretty sure they aren't the only people to get a little frisky underneath these bleachers.
No, he's uncomfortable because he can't stop thinking about it. About the way Louis’ hands felt on his body; the way Louis knew exactly what Harry needed; the way Louis sounded when he came. God, Harry’s been half hard since he sat down. He's thankful that it's gotten just warm enough since the start of the game for him to take his jacket off so he can discreetly lay it across his lap. He thinks the mothers in the crowd would be appalled if they saw a grown man with an erection during a teenaged boys soccer game.
The way Louis’ ass and thighs look in his little soccer shorts is not helping one little bit. Of course, Harry’s noticed how good he's looked in them before, but now that he knows what's under those shorts, Harry can't take his eyes off of him.
He has no clue what the score is or which team has the ball or what is happening out on the field because his eyes have been glued to Louis the whole time. And Louis isn't even playing, he's just been walking up and down the sideline, shouting encouragements at his team and giving pep talks when needed. Harry's going fucking crazy.
Before he knows it, the game is over and the two teams head into their locker rooms. Harry’s not sure what the outcome was, but he patiently waits in the stands while everyone else files out and into their cars.
Eventually, Harry is the last one out there, and he counts each boy on the team as they leave the locker room to ensure they're all gone before he makes his way inside.
It's quiet when he steps inside, most of the lights already turned off, but he can just make out some light shining towards the back. Harry weaves his way through the rows of lockers and can see the light is on in the coach’s office through the little window in the door.
He knocks on the door before pushing it open. Louis is standing with his back to him, zipping up his black duffel bag that's sitting atop the desk in the middle of the room.
“Hi,” Louis says as he turns around, smiling as he loops the bag over his shoulder. “You're still here.”
“I am,” Harry says.
“I thought for sure you'd be gone now. I figured you were mad at me about what happened earlier.”
Harry shakes his head. Being mad is literally the furthest thing from his mind. “You have any plans for tonight?” It's still fairly early on a Friday night, so he's sure Louis has some sort of plans, but he's really hoping that he doesn't.
“Not really,” Louis answers, turning off the light and locking the door to his office after they've stepped back out into the locker room. “I was just gonna head home and order some takeout. Why?”
“Take me home with you,” Harry blurts out.
Louis spins around so quickly that he has to be dizzy. His eyes wide and searching Harry’s face. “What?”
“Louis,” Harry starts. “I sat through that entire game half hard because I couldn't stop thinking about your hand around my cock.” Louis makes some sort of garbled coughing sound. “And you look so good in those damn tiny shorts, it drives me wild. So please, fucking take me home with you.”
Louis just stares, his mouth hanging open and eyes not blinking, but then he gives a curt little nod with his head, Harry thinks it's more to himself than anything else, and he's taking Harry’s hand in his and dragging him through the locker room and out into the parking lot. There's only two cars left; Harry’s Toyota and Louis’ Mini.
“Do you wanna ride with me or—”
“No,” Harry says a little harshly before Louis can even get the rest of his question out. “I won't be able to keep my hands off you if I ride with you and I don't really feel like dying tonight.”
“Um,” Louis clears his throat. “Just follow behind me in your car then.”
It's a lot harder to drive with a hard on that Harry thought it was going to be and he's surprised this is his very first time doing it. He's sure every person who has a dick has driven with a boner at least once in their lives, but Harry really wishes he didn't have to because it's excruciating. Every shift that his body makes when he turns the steering wheel makes the seam of his jeans rub against him in just the right way. He has to keep a white-knuckled grip on the wheel so he doesn't reach down and touch himself. He's going to come before they even make it to Louis’ place.
After what feels like a thousand hours later, Harry is following Louis into the parking lot of the nicest apartment building in town. How can Louis afford to live here on a coach's salary?
He pulls into the empty spot next to Louis and is taking a few deeps breaths to calm himself the fuck down when Louis opens his door.
“You coming?” Louis smirks like he picked those exact words for a reason. Like he knows exactly how much he's affecting Harry. And Harry would hate him, but he can't because he's too fucking pretty and he just really wants to kiss him. But he's a grown-ass man and he can wait to do that until they're safely inside Louis’ apartment.
Except apparently, he can't, because when Louis takes his keys out to unlock his door, Harry crowds up against his back and places sloppy kisses all along the back of his neck. He could not give any less of a shit that people might be able to see them right now. He's too far gone.
Once they make it inside, Harry shuts the door behind them and Louis pushes him up against it, bringing their mouths together. It's been far too long since Harry and Louis last kissed, and fuck, Harry’s missed the soft, wet feel of Louis’ lips against his own.
Harry snakes his fingers underneath the bottom of Louis’ shirt, dragging his hand up his chest. Louis must get the idea because he breaks the kiss so Harry can take his shirt off and toss it onto the floor, quickly doing the same with his own shirt. And Harry barely has time to catch his breathe before Louis’ swooping back in tongue first.
“You want the tour?” Louis mumbles against Harry’s lips.
Harry nods. “Mhm.”
He hopes that came out as some sort of affirmation or at least he hopes Louis understood it as one. He must have because he’s gripping tightly onto Harry’s hips and tugging him along with him as he walks backwards out of the entryway and into the rest of the apartment, still keeping their lips pressed firmly together.
“Here’s the living room.” Louis says after slipping their lips apart for a second. He takes his left hand off of Harry’s hip and gestures somewhere to Harry’s right where Harry assumes the living room is. It’s dark, Louis not bothering to turn on any lights as the stumble further into the apartment, so Harry can’t see shit. Not like he’s looking anyway; he’s not taking his eyes off Louis for a second.
They make a pit stop just long enough for Harry to toe off his boots and Louis his tennis shoes, making a pile of them on the living room floor. Their socks join in as well. Then they're moving again
“This is the kitchen,” Louis gestures to Harry’s left.
It's surprising how easily they're able to do this, walk through the apartment with their lips locked and hands all over each other without falling. Well, they do stumble a bit; their feet get tangled up every few steps or so, and they occasionally tumble into furniture or walls, but they haven't completely fallen yet.
They pause just inside a little archway that leads to a hallway, where it is even darker because there are no windows in the hallway. Harry struggles to get out of his jeans while Louis easily shimmies out of those sinful shorts.
“There's a spare room down there somewhere,” Louis points down to the end of the hall where Harry can just barely make out a closed door.
It doesn't make Harry’s struggle to get his jeans off any easier when Louis’ down to just his boxer briefs and kissing all over Harry’s chest.
His feet get caught in the bottom of his jeans and he falls back against the wall, knocking a few picture frames to the ground. They both freeze. Harry opens his mouth to apologize, but the words die in his throat when Louis licks over one of his nipples. Guess he doesn't care about the pictures.
“And this...” Louis says, pulling Harry along with him through the open door that's across from them when he finally works his jeans off. “...is my bedroom. The pièce de résistance.”
Harry squints his eyes shut when Louis flips on the light without any warning. His breath gets caught in his throat when he opens them again, because Louis is laid out on his back on the bed, propped up on his elbows, and in the absolute tiniest pair of boxer briefs Harry has ever seen.
They have to be at least two sizes too small for him, the fabric straining over his hard cock. Harry’s surprised it hasn’t ripped straight through them yet.
“You gonna join me?” Louis asks, causing Harry’s eyes to leave Louis’ crotch and travel up his body to his face, where the corner of his lip is pulling up into a smirk.
Harry nods and climbs onto the bed, laying himself out on top of Louis. He barely has a second to get comfortable, because Louis is tangling his fingers in Harry’s hair and yanking him down into a heated kiss. It’s wet and hot and so good and it’s making Harry’s head spin because he just needs more.
“What do you want?” Louis murmurs into the kiss, his fingers still lightly tugging on the ends of Harry’s hair. “Tell me what you want me to do to you and I’ll give it to you.”
Harry whines, turning his head to capture Louis’ mouth with his own. “I want—” He gasps when Louis chooses that moment to shove his thigh up against Harry’s straining dick. “Louis, I—”
Louis lightly kisses him one more time before he’s rolling them over so now Louis’ the one on top, straddling Harry’s hips. He drags his fingertips down the length of Harry’s chest and stops to cup him over his briefs, squeezing tightly.
Harry whimpers when Louis thumbs over the head of his dick, his hips thrusting up without his permission. He’s hot and wound too tightly and he can’t fucking think with Louis touching him like that.
“Hey,” Louis says softly, his free hand reaching up to brush Harry’s hair off his face. “I’ve got you, babe. Tell me what you want, I’ll do anything. Just want to make you feel good.”
Harry doesn’t know how Louis could possible make him feel any better than he already is. “I want—just want you, Lou.”
“Harry, baby, I’m right here,” he punctuates his words with another tight squeeze to Harry’s cock. “You have to be a little bit more specific than that.”
He tilts his head to the side to kiss the inside of Louis’ wrist, where it’s still brushing through his hair. “I want you to fuck me.”
There’s a quick flash of shock across Louis’ face before he’s beaming, his eyes crinkling up in the corners. “I think that’s an excellent idea.” Then he’s shuffling down the rest of Harry’s body and spreading out his legs so he can settle between them. His fingers stroke the skin above Harry’s boxer briefs. “Can I take these off?”
Harry nods and props himself up so he can watch Louis pulls his briefs down his legs. Before they're even completely off, just about to slip over his feet, Louis licks a fat stripe up the underside of Harry’s cock.
His arms give out from underneath him and his back falls down to the bed. He has to bite his lip to stop from screaming because, fuck, that’s good.
Louis looks up at him from where he’s perched between Harry’s legs as he wraps a hand around the base of Harry’s cock, and then he’s sucking just the tip into his mouth. It’s wet suction and slick heat sinking down, down, down, before dragging back up. It’s a lot. Harry’s eyes roll back and he’s arching his back, frantically clawing at the sheets. If Harry thought having Louis’ hand around him was incredible, it doesn’t hold a fucking candle to his mouth, good god.
“Holy fucking shitting fuck,” Harry’s babbling, can’t control the things that are tumbling out of his mouth, because Louis is sucking tighter and bobbing his head faster and he just might be losing his mind.
The wet sound Louis’ mouth makes when he pulls off Harry’s cock to tongue at the slit is the most obscene thing Harry has ever heard and it keeps bouncing around inside his head. “What would your kids think if they heard that filthy mouth of yours, Harold?”
“Louis,” Harry sighs. “Can you please not bring up my kids when you’ve just had my dick in your mouth.”
Louis chuckles, a light and airy beautiful sound. “You said something about wanting me to fuck you. Is that right?”
Harry shuffles up the bed so he’s laying out across the pillows and watches as Louis digs through the draw of his nightstand, pulling out lube and condoms. “Yes please.”
It doesn’t take long for Louis to slick up his fingers and slip one inside Harry. It’s definitely an intrusion, it’s been ages since someone has touched Harry there, but he relaxes back into the mattress and welcomes it.
Faster than Harry was anticipating, Louis slides in another finger alongside the first without any warning and it is perfect. Louis’ fingers are stretching him out efficiently, scissoring and prodding, making Harry keen high in his throat from how good it feels. He has to fist the base of his cock tightly; he doesn’t want to come just yet.
The air gets punched out of him when Louis finally pushes his cock into him in one long deep thrust, not even giving Harry a chance to adjust. “Louis, fuck,” he cries out.
He feels wet lips pressing against his jawline and he flickers his eyes open, Louis hovering just inches above him.
“Hey,” Louis says just above a whisper. “You okay?” His eyes are staring deep into Harry’s own and Harry’s breath stutters. He’s gotten lost in those eyes on multiple occasions, gotten lost in every little thing about Louis.
“Mm, very,” Harry slides his hands down the length of Louis’ back and grips his ass tightly in his hands. “You can move.”
Louis nods and rocks his hips in these slow little figure eights, rubbing inside of Harry in all the right places. The languidness of Louis’ movements is sweet and soft and perfect and everything Harry didn’t know that he needed.
Just when he was getting used to it, could almost definitely come from it, Louis decides to change things up. He kisses Harry deeply, nibbling on his bottom lip as he pulls away, sitting up straighter so their bodies are perpendicular. He drags his hips back so just the tip of his cock is left inside of Harry, then he slams back in, hard, and somehow manages to get the angle exactly right, hitting Harry’s prostate dead on.
Harry shouts, his hands scrambling for purchase over the sheets. Louis does it again, and again, and Harry feels sparks igniting through his veins; his body being lit on fire from the inside out.
“L—Louis,” Harry moans, his voice rough and scratchy. He’s finding it hard to breathe with how hard Louis’ thrusting into him.
He feels Louis’ hand closing around his cock and that one touch is all it takes for Harry to come, shooting off between them. His orgasm is intense and long and he knows there are words coming out his mouth, but he doesn’t know what they are, his mind and vision cloudy.
Louis bends back down, covering Harry’s body with his own, his cock still shoved in deep, and Harry feels him coming. He can literally feel Louis pulsing inside of him. Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and kisses the sweaty skin of his neck, just holding him close as he comes down.
They lay like that for awhile, trading sloppy kisses and trying to get control of their breathing. Eventually, Louis gets up and pads into the bathroom, returning with a wet towel to clean them up with. Harry sighs happily as Louis wipes him down. He stretches out his limbs, that delicious post-sex feeling making his body feel loose.
He pulls back the covers on the bed and slides underneath them while Louis goes back into the bathroom. He lies his head on the pillow already feeling on the brink of sleep.
“I guess you’re staying the night, then?” He hears Louis asks as he walks around the bed to get in the other side.
Harry rolls over so he’s facing Louis as he’s getting settled in. “Is that alright?”
“Absolutely,” Louis smiles, pulling Harry in for a kiss. He tastes minty, must have brushed his teeth while he was in the bathroom. “Was kind of hoping you were going to stay.”
Harry cuddles up with his back against Louis’ chest, Louis’ arm wrapped snuggly around him, and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.
--
He’s disoriented when he wakes up. He can feel the sunlight hitting him against the right side of his body, which is strange because the window is on the left side of his bedroom. When he opens his eyes he’s even more confused because the ceiling fan above him is wooden and he’s fairly certain his is white plastic. Harry sits up a little in the bed so he can look around the room, and yeah, this is definitely not his bedroom.
His brain slowly starts to wake up and catch up with his body, and that’s when all the memories from last night come flooding back. He’s in Louis’ bedroom, in his bed, where they had sex. Like, the best sex of Harry’s life.
He’s startled when the door opens and he glances over to see Louis stepping into the room with a tray full of food and a bright smile. “Hey. You’re awake.” Louis greets, leaving the door cracked open behind him.
“Yeah,” Harry says, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.
“Great, I made us some breakfast.” Louis places the tray down at the end of the bed before sliding under the sheets. He leans over and gives Harry’s bare shoulder a kiss. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Really well, thanks,” Harry answers. He gets a whiff of the food Louis brought in and his stomach grumbles. He places a hand on his belly and pouts down at it. “I’m starving. What’s on the menu?”
Louis pulls the little tray closer to them and points to each item as he talks about it. “I made waffles, some fruit, and coffee. There’s cream and sugar as well. I know most of the time you like to drink your coffee black, but sometimes you like it sweeter, so I brought those just in case.”
Harry’s heart swells and he pecks Louis on the lips. He doesn’t even need the sugar to be honest. Louis is sweet enough.
“Do you mind if I brush my teeth quickly before I eat?”
“Sure,” Louis says, popping a strawberry in his mouth. “In the very bottom drawer I have some spare toothbrushes for when my siblings come to visit. You’re more than welcome to use one of those.”
Harry stands up out of bed, suddenly feeling very nervous because he forgot he was completely naked. He slowly looks over his shoulder to see if Louis noticed, and he definitely noticed. He’s openly staring, unabashed, at Harry’s ass as he sips his coffee. Harry smiles to himself no longer feeling nervous, instead feeling lucky, worthy, to have Louis’ eyes on him like that. And he might just swing his hips a little exaggeratedly as he walks to the bathroom.
“Oh,” Louis calls out to him right as Harry’s pushing the door to the bathroom open. “I put your clothes from last night in the washer, but I laid out some spare ones of mine on the counter you can borrow until yours are finished.”
After he’s brushed his teeth and washed his face, he changes into the clothes Louis left out for him. The sweatpants barely come down to his ankles and the shirt is a little tight around his shoulders, but he likes being in Louis’ clothes. They even smell like him.
He makes his way back into the bedroom and joins Louis on the bed, making himself a plate of waffles with strawberries and whipped cream on the top.
“Mm,” Harry groans around his forkful. “These waffles are really good. You made them?”
“I did,” Louis shrugs. “Well kind of. They’re just a powdered mix that you add water too and I poured it into a waffle iron my mom got me for Christmas right before I moved out on my own.”
Harry takes another bite and washes it down with a sip of his coffee. “Still, it’s delicious. Thank you for making breakfast in bed for me.”
“Yeah, of course,” Louis says, giving Harry a syrup sticky kiss. “Aren’t you lucky that you have a boyfriend who can cook? Sorta cook since I—”
Harry freezes and stops listening at the word boyfriend, his heart pounding loudly. His fork is paused halfway to his mouth and a strawberry falls off of it and lands in the whipped cream on his plate, causing some to fly up onto Louis’ borrowed shirt.
Louis must notice Harry’s internal panic because he stops talking mid sentence and turns to look at Harry with a furrow between his eyebrows. “You okay?”
“Boyfriend?” Harry squeaks.
A pink blush fans out across Louis’ cheeks and he looks down at his lap. Harry’s stunned. He’s never seen Louis blush before, or look embarrassed. “Yeah, I thought that’s what we were. You know after our little talk on the bleachers. Do you—” he stops, clears his throat “—do you not want that?”
Harry carefully places his fork on top of his plate and grabs Louis’ face with both of his hands, pulling him into a kiss. It takes Louis by surprise, but he’s quickly kissing him back, sliding their tongues together. Harry kisses him with everything he’s got, trying to tell Louis all the things he’s feeling. “Yes, I want that,” Harry says a little breathlessly when their lips slip apart. “God, I want that so bad, you don’t even understand. We have to change our Facebook status now.”
“What?” Louis asks around a mouthful of waffle.
“C’mon Lou, you spend everyday with a bunch of teenagers,” Harry says. “Surely you know that our relationship isn’t real until it’s Facebook official.”
Louis just stares at him at first before bursting into laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”
He stays at Louis’ for the rest of the day. It mostly consist of them cuddling on the couch and watching poorly rated movies on Netflix, but there’s no other place Harry would rather be.
They’re both in the kitchen making lunch together when Harry tells Louis about how he’s the one that finally made Harry come to terms with his sexuality. Who helped him come out and be proud of who he is.
That somehow makes Louis push Harry against the fridge and drop to his knees. He doesn’t know how that conversation turned into him getting a blowjob, but he’s definitely not complaining.
Harry checks his phone for the first time since he arrived at Louis’ apartment later that night while Louis’ in the shower. He has a missed call from Gemma that he’ll return later and one text message from Louis.
The text is from 6:45 this morning, which makes Harry very confused because he was with Louis at 6:45 this morning, so why would he have text him. He opens the message and it’s a video; he settles further into the couch and presses play.
It starts out showing the door to Louis’ apartment and Harry gets even more confused, but then Louis’ voice comes in. “I think some kind of wild animal got into my place last night. Take a look at this.”
The camera pans around to show the little walkway between the living room and the kitchen and Harry gasps. It’s a mess. Their shirts are in a crumpled heap right inside the doorway by Louis’ feet, the couch is crooked as if someone ran into it, and one of the little end tables has been knocked over, the lamp and the papers that were sitting on top of it are now strewn across the room.
Louis continues walking towards the back hallway and shows the camera where they kicked off their shoes. He stops when he sees the picture frame Harry knocked off the wall on the floor. Louis picks it up and flips it over. It’s a picture of Louis and his siblings and there’s several cracks in the glass. “I guess I’m going to have to get a new frame for this.”
Louis hangs the picture back on the wall and steps over Harry’s jeans before pushing open the door to his bedroom. “And here is the little culprit,” Louis says, panning his phone up from the floor to his bed where Harry is still fast asleep. He’s lying on his stomach and he’s completely naked. The sheets are tangled around one of his feet like he tried to kick them off but they didn’t quite make it all the way.
“Good thing he’s cute,” Louis says, voice soft. “And a fucking good lay too.” He walks over to where Harry is sleeping and pulls the sheets up to cover him. Louis leans down to place a kiss against Harry’ shoulder and then the video cuts off.
After watching that, Harry just lays on the sofa staring at the ceiling with this weird tightness in his chest. That tight feeling only intensifies when Louis joins him after his shower.
Just as Harry is crawling into bed with Louis to spend another night, his phone pings with a very angry text from Liam that makes both he and Louis laugh.
I can’t believe I had to find out that you and Louis are finally dating through fucking Facebook!
--
Harry has just settled down at his desk after returning from lunch when his phone rings. He brings his phone up to his ear with a smile when he sees who’s calling. “Hey.”
“Hi, baby,” Louis greets, his voice sleepy soft. Ever since they became official, Louis has been calling Harry baby every chance he can get and Harry’s been loving it. “Are you busy?”
Harry glances around the empty classroom as he leans back in his chair and props his feet up on his desk. “Nah, the kids are at recess right now, so I’ve got like a solid thirty minutes to myself.”
There’s some ruffling and shuffling coming from the other end of the line before Louis’ voice comes through. “That should be more than enough time.”
“Enough time for what?” Harry asks, his brow wrinkling.
“Oh nothing,” Louis says, his voice even raspier than normal. “I just woke up and was thinking about you. Needed to hear your voice.”
Something in Louis’ tone makes Harry sit up straight, his feet dropping to the floor. A shiver runs down his spine. “What were you thinking about?”
“Your mouth,” Louis replies instantly. Harry is shocked. He thought this was going to go in a sexy direction, but mouths aren’t particularly sexy, at least not to Harry. So he’s a little confused but also a little turned on.
“My mouth?” His voice comes out as barely as whisper.
There’s a moment of silence and Harry’s starting to think that Louis didn’t hear him, but then he hears Louis moan, like an actual sex moan and his dick twitches in his jeans. He can’t believe this is actually happening while he’s at work. “Yeah,” Louis breathes. “You have the prettiest mouth, Harry. Like one minute your lips are bright red and then they’re a rosy pink the next. I used to think that you wore lipstick, but those are just your lips. And their so fucking distracting.” His voice sounds ruined and Harry can practically hear him jerking off through the phone. Him laying in bed touching himself to the thought of Harry’s mouth is extremely hot.
“God,” Louis groans, high and breathy and fucking gorgeous. “Your mouth is incredible, honestly. I always think about how well you kiss and how well you suck me. Just, fuck Harry, your mouth gets me hard in an instant.”
Harry squirms in his chair, painfully hard now just from Louis’ words. “Lou, I’m at work.” He is by himself though. In his classroom completely alone. So technically he could whip out his cock and get off right here with Louis’ voice in his ear, but he knows the second he gets his hand around himself someone is going to walk in. God, just the thought of that; of potentially getting caught, has him pulsing precome into his boxers; already getting sticky and uncomfortable.
“That’s okay, baby. Just—” Louis cuts off with a sharp, needy whine and Harry has to palm himself to relive some of the pressure. “Just talk, yeah. Wanna hear your voice.”
Of course when Louis asks him to talk, Harry’s brain goes blank and he forgets every word. Louis is the talker during sex; always murmuring filthy things into Harry’s ear and whispering endearments. While Harry just whines and whimpers through it because he’s so overwhelmed by everything. He’s always been into dirty talk, but when it’s the other person doing the talking, being put on the spot like this makes him a little nervous.
“Um,” Harry starts, still fidgeting in his chair because he’s so hard and so turned on that he’s starting to sweat. “You think about me when you get off?” What a fucking dumb question. Obviously he does, he called Harry while he was getting off because he was thinking about him. Harry’s brain has literally turned to mush.
“I do,” Louis says, his voice sounding thin and hungry. “Even before we started dating or became friends. That first time I saw—saw you at the game I was just blown away by how fucking gorgeous you were. God Harry, I...you don’t understand how hard I came that night.”
Christ. Harry can literally hear the accelerated sound of Louis’ hand through the phone and he has to stop palming himself because he’s about two seconds away from coming. Knowing that Louis got off to him when they barely even knew each other is a lot and it makes his head spin. Granted, he did the same to Louis back in high school, but he was a horny teenager who almost constantly had his hand on his dick.
“Harry,” Louis hisses, his breath harsh and choppy. Harry can tell from the way he sounds that he’s close. “Baby, I—” Harry has to grip the edge of his desk to stop himself from touching himself as he listens to the unmistakable sound of Louis coming. His high, keening whine echoing inside Harry’s head.
It’s quiet for so long that Harry’s afraid that Louis may have fallen back to sleep “Lou,” he whispers. “You okay?”
“Better than,” Louis responds, his words slower than usual. Harry’s still fucking hard and Louis’ after sex voice is not helping. “Thanks for that.”
If Harry has to take a quick trip to the restroom after their phone call to take care of his, uh, little situation, then he’s the only one that has to know about it. Even though he feels wrong doing it at work, which just happens to be a building full of children.
Fuck his boyfriend, honestly. And not in the sexy way. Well, it can be in the sexy way, just not when he’s at work.
--
Louis’ skin is so soft. An expanse of smooth, soft skin just screaming to be touched. Harry wants to know his skincare routine. He must exfoliate and moisturize like twenty times a day. Louis’ skin is the softest thing Harry has ever felt. It’s especially soft when it’s underneath his lips, which is what’s happening right now.
Louis had come over to Harry’s last night after he finished with practice and he ended up spending the night. Harry sometimes wakes up feeling a little horny—he is a guy afterall—and with Louis laying right next to him, practically naked, it doesn’t make things any easier.
So he lays out on top of Louis as carefully as he can and wakes him up by softly kissing and licking over Louis chest. It takes awhile for Louis to finally wake up, he’s a pretty heavy sleeper, but once he does he’s not even startled by it, just sinks even further into the mattress and let’s Harry have his way with him.
Starting at the top and working his way down, Harry trails hips lips down the hollow of Louis’ throat and kisses along his collarbones. Licks over each nipple and bites at the tiny swell of his belly. The soft line of hair underneath his bellybutton tickles Harry’s lips as he kisses down it towards the waistband of Louis’ boxer briefs. God, he smells so good. Tastes so good.
The way Louis’ chest heaves with his shallow breaths and the way his stomach tenses beneath Harry’s mouth just spurs Harry on. When he glances up, Louis looks undone. He’s worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, his left fist clenching in the pillow under his head, and he’s flushed all the way down to his chest.
“Baby,” Louis says, his voice strained and airy. The fingers of his right hand tug sharply at Harry’s hair when Harry pulls at a nipple with his teeth. “Harry. Stop for a second, baby, I need to—need to tell you something.”
Harry pouts and barely lifts his lips from Louis tummy. “Don’t you want a blowjob more?” Because honestly that’s where all this was leading to. He can feel little goosebumps forming on Louis’ skin against his lips from the warmth of his breath.
Louis inhales sharply. “Well, yeah, but there’s something I want even more than that.”
Okay, that gets Harry’s attention. He crawls his way back up Louis’ body and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Tell me.”
Louis swallows hard and looks everywhere but at Harry, which is a little difficult because Harry’s directly in front of him. He looks nervous and Louis doesn’t get nervous very often so now Harry is starting to get a little worried. But he doesn’t rush him, just runs his fingers down Louis’ arm and fits them into the dents between his ribs. “I want you to fuck me.”
Oh. That’s the last thing Harry was expecting Louis to say, but he’s definitely up for it. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Louis arches a brow, Surprise lacing his tone like he can’t actually believe that Harry is so willingly going along with this.
“Yeah,” Harry says, taking out the lube from his drawer. He pulls off Louis’ boxers and tosses them off to the side before he settles himself in between Louis’ legs.
Once his fingers are sufficiently lubed up, he slowly sinks one into Louis. He hears a harsh gasp come from Louis and Harry flickers his eyes up to his face. He’s grimacing like he’s really uncomfortable. Harry assumes it’s just from the initial intrusion and he’ll relax once he’s used to it. But after a few minutes, it doesn’t seem to have gotten any better.
Louis’ entire body is tense, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s in pain, and he’s gone completely soft. “Lou, you alright?” Harry asks.
Louis gives a curt little nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He replies through gritted teeth, his voice pinched.
Harry pulls his finger out and wipes it on his sheets. “You don’t look fine.”
“It’s just,” Louis sighs, opening his eyes. They’re filled with remorse and something deeper that Harry can’t quite make out. “God, this is so embarrassing, but I’ve never, uh, bottomed before.”
What? Harry shakes his head, not quite believing what he just heard. “What? Your ass was literally made to bottom.”
Louis laughs, but it sounds forced. “It’s just never really appealed to me, I guess,” he shrugs. “And all the guys I’ve been with prefered to bottom so I’ve never really had the chance to try it.”
“We don’t have to,” Harry says, rubbing his hand over Louis’ chest, trying to ease some of his tension. “Not everyone likes it.”
“No, no, no,” Louis rushes to say. “I want to try it. With you. And I want to know what’s so great about prostate stimulation.”
Harry’s eyes widen. Louis just keeps surprising him with the things he’s saying this morning. “So you’ve never even fingered yourself either?” Louis shakes his head. “Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride. But,” he pauses, looking intently at Louis. “You sure you want to do this?”
“I do,” Louis nods.
“Alright,” Harry sits up straighter preparing himself for his speech. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. It will be uncomfortable and it will hurt. It’s not an excruciating kind of pain, it’s just like an annoying one. About ninety-five percent of bottoming is pure prostate stimulation and the other part is just being incredibly horny, which hopefully I can help you out with.” Louis snorts and rolls his eyes. It’s nice to see that he’s getting back to his normal self, not so tense and nervous anymore.
“If at any point you can’t tolerate the pain or it doesn’t fade away fairly quickly, please let me know, and I’ll try to fix it or just stop all together. The last thing I want is to really hurt you.”
Harry yelps in surprise when Louis grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down into a very heated kiss. When they break apart, Louis is smiling widely. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Harry questions, his brow scrunched in confusion.
“For just being you.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” he blushes. Why is he blushing? “That’s not really something I can control, though.”
Louis smiles. “I know.”
Pressing another kiss to Louis’ lips, which Louis eagerly responds to, Harry gets back into his previous position between Louis’ legs. First things first, he’s got to get Louis turned on, get him hard again. So he licks his lips and sucks Louis’ cock into his mouth without preamble.
It doesn’t take all that long for Louis to get hard again and Harry gets him as close to the edge as possible before he pulls of. Louis whines about it, but Harry ignores him, reaching for the bottle of lube to recoat his fingers.
“I’m going to prep you now,” Harry tells him, kissing along the Louis’ shaft just to tease him. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you when I did it the first time around, but that was when I assumed you had already done this before.”
“I want you to take a deep breath,” Harry continues. “I’ll count to three and then you let it out on three, okay?”
Louis does as he’s told and takes a big breath. Harry counts to three and sinks his finger in at the same time Louis lets his breath out. It slips in a bit easier this time and he pushes in until the knuckle.
He keeps his finger still for a minute or two, allowing Louis to get used to it. “You doing okay so far?
“Mhm,” Louis hums. “You can like, move it around or whatever.”
“No,” Harry disagrees. “The whole point of this is to stretch you out, and it’s easier and more comfortable for you if I don’t move them around too much. I can add a second finger though, if you think you’re ready for that?”
Louis says that he is and they go through the breathing thing again as Harry slips in another finger. He keeps stroking his free hand over Louis’ cock to hopefully distract him from the sting and watches his face. He immediately stops pressing in when he notices Louis wince. It takes a few moments, but then Louis is nodding at him to continue.
Once both fingers are buried deep, Harry thinks it’s finally time. He wiggles his fingers around, trying to find that sweet spot, and he definitely knows when he finds it because Louis’ reaction is beautiful. He moans so loudly it could probably be considered a scream, his back arching off the mattress, and dick jumping in Harry’s hand. Harry’s own dick twitches in the confines of his boxer briefs. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life.
“Holy shit,” Louis gasps. “Was that…”
“It was,” Harry grins, feeling very pleased with himself. “Pretty great, huh?”
“Pretty great?” Louis repeats sounding a bit crazed. “I can’t believe that’s what I’ve been missing out on. Do it again. Do it again.”
Harry chuckles at Louis’ enthusiasm and does it again, but this time he rubs his fingertips in small little circles instead.
“Oh.” Louis’ hand scrambles for something to grip onto and Harry gives him his own hand, intertwining their fingers. “Fuck, Harry.”
Since both of his hands are occupied and Louis’ hard cock is right in front of his face, Harry does the only thing that makes sense to him in that moment; taking Louis’ cock into his mouth. He suckles at the head and doesn’t let up on the rubbing of his fingers.
Louis’ completely incoherent now; his head thrown back against the pillows, his body squirming against the sheets. He’s moaning so freely and so pretty, that Harry thinks he could definitely come from Louis’ noises alone.
He pulls his mouth off with a wet pop and stills his fingers because he can tell that Louis is getting a little too close. Harry’s getting quite close himself. He’s having to press his hips down into the mattress just to relieve some of the pressure he’s feeling because seeing Louis like this is incredibly hot.
Harry works up to three fingers and then four just because he wants Louis to be as stretched out as much as possible. He adds more and more lube along the way, because in circumstances like this, you can never have too much. He’s definitely going to have to buy some more after this though, seeing as how he’s almost gone through the whole bottle.
Just as he’s trying to squeeze in his thumb alongside the other four, Louis laughs unexpectedly, causing Harry to stop. “You don’t have to fist me, Haz,” Louis teases. “Your cock isn’t that big.”
“I wasn’t going to fist you,” Harry says, flushing a bit from Louis’ teasing. “I’d just rather be safe than sorry. Do you think you’re ready?”
“God yes,” Louis nods in agreement. “You got me so worked up with those fucking magic fingers of yours.”
Harry pulls said magic fingers out of Louis’ hole and wipes them off on the bedsheet. “Things will be more comfortable for you if you ride me. That way you can be in total control and having your back straight helps keep the pain to a minimum.”
Harry settles himself on his back in the spot Louis was just in and rolls on a condom. He watches with wide eyes as Louis swings a leg over him and hovers above his middle. Just seeing Louis in this position has his mind going blank and he isn’t even in him yet. He honestly doesn’t know how he hasn't come about thirty times by now. He has some fucking incredible willpower.
Louis wraps a hand around Harry’s cock to line himself up and takes a few deep breaths before he lowers himself with painstaking slowness. He groans a little uncomfortably when the head pops in and he stops, bracing himself with a hand against Harry’s chest.
“Holy shit,” Louis grits out. He’s tense, muscles taut, so Harry rubs his hands over Louis’ thighs trying to relax him.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s just that your dick feels about one hundred times bigger than it looks.”
“Oh really?” Harry quirks a brow. “I remember you saying that it wasn’t all that big earlier.”
Louis’ eyes snap open and he glares at Harry. “Fuck you.”
Harry gives a pointed look to where they’re currently connected. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
When Louis begins to sink down, inch by slow, sweet inch, Harry finally shuts up. Louis whimpers out a strangled breath when he’s finally seated against Harry’s hips, his eyes shut tight in frustration as he tries to work past the discomfort.
His hands are still on Louis’ thighs, so Harry rubs them some more and squeezes the dip of Louis’ waist as he mumbles out praises and endearments.
Louis feels phenomenal; hot and tight around him. It’s taking everything Harry has not to fuck up into Louis, god he wants to ruin him. But he won’t do that. He knows what a bad bottoming experience is like and he doesn't want that for Louis. He wants to show him how good it can be. Because when it’s good, it’s really fucking good.
After a few moments, when Louis’ adjusted, he flickers his eyes open and locks gazes with Harry. He doesn’t break eye contact as he rises up. He only goes about halfway, but then he drops down quickly, shocking a moan out of both of them.
Harry can feel the muscles of Louis’ thighs move underneath his palms as he bounces on his cock, establishing a steady rhythm that leaves them both breathless. He bites his lip as he watches Louis work, watches him take control. All he can do is just lie there and take it.
Louis pulls off further now and slams back down harder, his bounces getting a little disjointed. His eyes fly open as he cries out a few thrusts later, hands scrambling against Harry’s chest as he pauses momentarily. He must have hit his prostate. He frantically rises up again and again, determinedly trying to hit that same spot.
When Louis finds it again he stays fully seated and grinds, the most glorious moans tumbling from between his lips. He’s rocking so fast into Harry’s lap that the sheets get tangled around them, the headboard clanking against the wall.
Louis’ cock is dripping when he takes it into his fist, stroking rapidly. “Harry,” he gasps, throwing his head back. All it takes is a few pumps and he’s gone, coming into his fist and over Harry’s stomach. Louis is clenching so tightly around him that Harry yells, his own orgasm washing over him just mere seconds after Louis’.
Louis collapses against Harry’s chest, come sticky in between their bodies. They’re both breathing hard, chests rising together as they come down.
“Fuck,” Louis says when his breath is almost back to normal. “That was amazing.” He sits back up, lifting himself off with a wince, and curling into Harry’s side.
“Do you have practice today?” Harry asks after a moment, noticing how high the sun has risen in the sky. It must be mid-afternoon by now.
“Yeah,” Louis answers into Harry’s shoulder.
“We should have thought this through a bit more,” Harry points out. “You’re gonna be a little sore. You might, like, waddle when you walk and it’ll probably be really uncomfortable if you run.”
Louis rolls onto his back, leaving Harry’s side feeling cold without the warm press of him. “Well I can sit on the bench for most of practice and I’ll just tell the boys I’ve sprained my knee or something to cover up for the waddling.”
“Or,” Harry draws out the word. “You could just tell them the truth; that you let your boyfriend fuck you and now your ass is sore from his huge dick.”
Louis rolls his eyes and snorts. It should be an unattractive sound, but it’s not coming from Louis. He doesn’t ever do anything that isn’t wildly attractive. “You really are full of yourself aren't you?”
Okay, he just walked right into that one. “You were full of me just a few minutes ago.” Harry waggles his eyebrows.
“Oh god,” Louis groans and covers his eyes with his hands. “Why do I put up with you?”
“Cause you like me,” Harry says, cuddling up against Louis so they’re pressed together from shoulder to thigh. “You think I’m gorgeous. You want to kiss me,” he sing-songs.
“Alright,” Louis shoves Harry off him, but he does it gently, in a fond way, and stands up out of bed. “I’m leaving now.”
Harry watches as he walks towards the door, his ass bouncing with each step. “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.”
“Okay that's it,” Louis calls out when he’s made it into the hallway. “I’m breaking up with you.”
“Whatever you say, honey,” Harry calls back. He rolls over and giggles into his pillow. He’s so happy he’s delirious.
--
He's sitting on his living room floor, legs crossed underneath him, laptop open on top of his coffee table, and papers strewn out all around him. The school’s annual charity night is rapidly approaching—as in it's in less than a month—and Harry is officially stressed.
Every year the school puts together a charity event with lots of activities for the students and their families as well as the faculty to enjoy all while raising money for a local charity. It's always a big hit with everyone.
A new teacher gets put in charge of the event each year. They pick the charity in which all the proceeds will go, they decide on all the activities, and organize everything. Of course, some of the other teachers will pitch in when needed, but ultimately it's all in the hands of the one teacher that gets put in charge. This year, that teacher is Harry.
Picking the charity was the easy bit. The moment he was told he was going to be organizing charity night, he knew which charity he wanted; the LGBT center. It’s always been a safe place for him and it’s something very close to his heart. He loves being able to help out when he can and this is the perfect opportunity, especially since it’s never been one of the chosen charities.
Coming up with the activities for the night is not so easy. He wants something different, something that hasn’t been done before, but he can’t come up with a single original idea. Last year they had a mud run, which was far more fun that Harry was expecting it to be. Running and crawling through several different obstacles covered in mud left Harry finding dried mud all over his body for days, but it was a blast. And offered some excellent photo opportunities that Harry has hanging on the wall in his classroom.
The year before that, Harry’s first year at the school, was a water park theme. They set up water slides and giant inflatable pools and served endless amounts of ice cream. It was nice because it was unseasonably warm that year. Although Harry didn’t get to experience it himself, the year before that was a basic school carnival. Now that he’s in charge, he wants something totally unique, but his mind keeps coming up empty.
Louis showed up about an hour and a half ago with pizza and his offer to help. He hasn’t been all that helpful though because, to be quite frank, his ideas are shit. Harry has the beginning poundings of a stress headache and his back is aching from sitting in this position on the floor for so long and whenever Louis opens his mouth to offer another suggestion, it just makes Harry’s level of irritation rise.
“Louis,” Harry says as calmly as he can manage even though all he wants to do is yell at him to get out. “I know you’re trying to help and I appreciate it, but your ideas suck.”
Louis freezes, his mouth hanging open, probably about to give another one of his stupid ideas. “How would you know my ideas suck if you haven’t even listened to a single one of them?” There’s an edge to his voice that Harry doesn’t appreciate.
“I just know.”
“Well excuse me for trying to help. I’ll never make the mistake of doing that again.” Louis gets up from the couch and collects his things, clearly intent on leaving. Even though Harry wanted him to leave just a second ago, he doesn’t now.
“Why are you being such an asshole about this?” Harry asks.
“I’m being an asshole?” Louis counters, the tone of his voice rising. “I’m trying to help you, Harry, and you won’t even take a fucking second to listen to anything I have to say.”
Harry stands up and winces when his back protests, it’s definitely going to be killing him in the morning. He notices Louis’ expression soften at that, but he must remember that they’re fighting because he quickly changes it back to being stern. Harry rolls his eyes. “You know, I don’t remember asking for your help. Do I ever try to help you with any of your soccer stuff?”
“No,” Louis bites out. “Because you don’t know shit about soccer.” Technically that is true, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Harry already feels way inferior to Louis and he hates when there’s even more proof to that.
“Well you don’t know shit about teaching first grade. This is my thing so stop helping,” Harry says, spitting the words out. He’s fuming. If he was a cartoon character his face would be bright red and there would be steam coming out of his ears. It’s so hard to reason with Louis sometimes, he’s so irrational. “Why do you care so much anyway?”
“I don’t know, Harry,” he shouts, throwing his arms in the air exasperatedly. “It’s probably because I love you, you fucking asshole.”
“You can’t do…” The words die on Harry’s tongue when what Louis said finally catches up to him. Did he just? “Wha—what did you say?”
Louis takes a few steps towards Harry, significantly closing the distance between them. “I said I love you.”
He must be in shock. That must be what this is. He can’t move, can’t think. “You love me?” His voice comes out barely above a whisper.
A slow smile spreads across Louis’ face and it’s such a sharp contrast to how he was shouting in anger just seconds ago. He reaches up and places a hand against Harry’s cheek. “You’re stubborn and thickheaded. You never want to ask for help when you so clearly need it. You are a pain in my ass and I want to choke you out about ninety percent of the time.” Okay, Harry is confused. That seems like the opposite of love. Louis places his other hand on Harry’s other cheek, rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone. “But you’re also beautiful and smart. You’re incredibly driven and passionate. You’re the most humble and kind hearted person I’ve ever known. And you make me the happiest I have ever been. So yeah, I love you.”
Harry blinks, still a little bit in shock. His heart is beating so loudly it’s the only thing he can hear. Then he’s surging forward to press his lips against Louis’. He’s never really thought about that little four letter word about Louis. In the back of his mind he always knew he felt that way for Louis, but he never once used that word. He’s an idiot. “I love you, too,” he mumbles in between kisses. “Fuck. I love you, Louis.”
Louis chuckles against his mouth, their lips slipping against one another’s. “God, it feels so good to hear you say that.”
So Harry says it again and again and about ten more times just to hear the gorgeous little groans Louis makes into his mouth. He breaks the kiss just so he can run his tongue down Louis’ neck but stops himself before he gets the chance to because he notices where they are. He didn’t even realize he was walking them towards his bedroom, but now that they’re here, standing in the doorway.
He shoves Louis into the room and flips on the light. “Take your clothes off,” Harry demands, bouncing onto the bed and pushing down his sweatpants as he goes. “I need you inside me.”
Louis smirks as he lifts his shirt up over his head. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”
That’s something Harry gets called on a daily basis, but it’s usually by a bunch of six year olds. Hearing Louis say that while he’s getting undressed just does things to him.
Louis strips off the rest of his clothes in a matter of seconds—Harry’s mouth goes dry at the sight—and wastes no time crawling on top of Harry. He grinds down, rubbing his hard length against Harry’s thigh. “You going to let me help you out more often now?”
“Shut—” Harry gasps when Louis’ squeezes the head of his cock through his boxer briefs. “Shut the fuck up and grab the lube.”
--
A camping theme. That is what Harry has come up with for his charity night. The students and their families can bring tents and sleeping bags and set them up on the back lot behind the school to spend the night. Several fire pits will be set up sporadically around the lot for them to roast marshmallows and make s’mores. Harry asked Gemma to find several food trucks in Chicago that could drive down and park in the parking lot so everyone would have several different options for food. Five food trucks agreed and will be donating twenty percent of their proceeds to the charity.
The best thing about it though, Harry’s favorite part, is the movie. On one side of the building, they’ll hang a large screen and put up a projector to show a movie on the screen once it gets dark enough. Lawn chairs and blankets will be spread out in front of the screen and there will be a stand with popcorn. The movie will be set up on the opposite side of the building from the camping area just in case there’s anyone who doesn't want to watch the movie, so they won’t have to worry about all the noise.
It’s finally the Friday of the charity night and Harry has been working his ass off. They had a half day of school to allow plenty of time for the kids to go home and get ready and to allow the teachers to set everything up at the school. Although this has been one of the most stressful things Harry has ever done, everything is coming along swimmingly. All the food trucks have arrived and started prepping the food. The movie screen went up without a hitch. There’s even a few students who have arrived early and are already putting up their tents with their parents.
Of course, Harry was the first one to put up his tent right in the middle of the back lot because he wanted to make sure he got the perfect spot. He did plan the whole thing so he deserves to have it. He didn’t actually own a tent before this so he had to go out and buy one, but it was definitely worth it.
Liam shows up to help even though he’s on call tonight. He placed his tent near the edge by the parking lot just in case he has to rush off to work at the last second. Niall even shows up with his little nephew who is very excited to see Harry again. The only person missing is Louis. He has a game tonight so if he does end up coming it won’t be until a lot later. Harry tries not to be upset that Louis isn’t here to share this with him because he knows that Louis has other obligations. Plus, he’s not there to support Louis at his game either so he guesses it goes both ways.
He’s just ordered a burger from one of the food trucks and he walking back to his tent to change out of his shorts and into a pair of sweatpants because it’s starting to get a little chillier the later it gets. It’s still too light out for the movie to start, so most everyone is either sitting around the fire pits or in their tents eating their dinner from the food trucks. Everyone seems to be having a great time though and several people have come up to Harry telling him what a great job he’s done. Harry couldn’t be happier.
As soon as he steps into his tent he drops his plate because his hands fly up to his mouth as he tries to cover up his scream. There’s someone laid out on top of his little air mattress.
“What the fuck, Louis?” Harry says a little out of breath. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Louis sits up with a smile on his face. “Sorry.” He doesn't seem to be very sorry.
Harry bends down to try and salvage his burger. Luckily, the plate landed normally instead of upside down, so only the bun and a few of the fries went flying. It should still be edible. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a game.”
“Yeah, about that,” Louis says, helping to collect some of the stray fries. “That game was cancelled like a month ago. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“It was definitely a surprise,” Harry mumbles, looking down at his plate to hid the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “How did you know this was my tent?”
Louis shoves a fry in his mouth so his answer comes out a little muffled. “Liam told me.”
Louis ends up buying Harry another burger because the one he dropped isn’t all that edible after all and they share it spread out on Harry’s air mattress in his tent. They’re just talking at first once they finished eating, but that quickly turns into Louis being laid out on top of Harry and kissing him eagerly. Harry is very, very weak and can’t be around Louis for a long amount of time without kissing him.
Only when Louis’ hand starts to sneak underneath the waistband of his shorts—because he was never able to change into his sweatpants—does Harry stop him. “Lou, no. We can’t.”
“Why not?” Louis frowns.
“Because we’re literally surrounded by a bunch of children,” Harry explains.
“You’ll just have to stay quiet then.” Louis’ hand moves further down going inside Harry’s boxers as well. Harry grips Louis’ wrist to stop him when just the tips of his fingers graze the base of Harry’s dick.
“You know perfectly well that I’m not able to keep quiet.” It should be embarrassing, but Louis’ told him several times that he loves all the sounds that Harry makes.
A smirk takes over Louis’ lips and Harry knows whatever he’s about to say can’t be good. “Guess I’ll have to gag you.”
Thank god Louis doesn’t tease him about the way his cock jerks at that. He never thought he would be into gagging, but just hearing Louis talk about it makes him harder. “Ugh,” Harry groans like he’s annoyed by that idea, even though both himself and Louis know that he’s not. “You suck.”
“Not yet,” Louis says, finally wrapping his hand around Harry’s cock and gripping tightly to emphasize his point. “But I’m trying to.”
“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Harry asks, the words coming out a little strained because Louis’ squeezing around the head of his cock.
“Because you love me.”
Harry melts at that, just sinks into the mattress and allows Louis to pull down his sweatpants and boxers in one go. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”
“Good,” Louis says, placing a quick kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth. “I love you too.” And then he’s shoving a corner of Harry’s boxers into his mouth to use an an makeshift gag.
--
Five Years Later
It's another new year and Harry can't wait to get back to it. He’s had this job for eight years now and he still gets that wave of nerves on the first day.
He tiptoes his way around the apartment as quietly as he can while he’s getting ready so he doesn’t wake Louis. After his shower he makes twice the amount of breakfast and puts half of it in the fridge for Louis when he wakes up.
Harry goes through the rest of his first day rituals, and before he knows it, his day is halfway over. He’s lining his kids up for lunch when he feels a tug on his shirt and small voice coming from behind him.
“Mr. Tomlinson?” His heart still skips a beat when he hears that. He and Louis got married last summer, just celebrated their one year anniversary last month. Harry had the entirety of the previous school year to get used to his new name, but he still isn’t. He hopes he never gets used to it to be honest.
The ring on his left hand is another thing he still hasn’t gotten used to. There are times when he’ll just stare at it because he can’t believe he’s a married man; married to Louis. If you told fourteen year old Harry that he’d be married to Louis by the time he’s twenty-seven; he would have wanted to believe you, but there’s no way he really would have.
“Yeah, Emily. What’s up?” Harry bends down so he’s more on the little girl’s level.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she says, pouting.
Harry smiles and takes her hand, leading her to the front of the line. “Alright. We can make a pitstop at the restrooms on our way to lunch.” As he’s walking he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he knows it’s his usual good morning text from his husband. Today is going to be a good day.