soft laugh meets the eyes

by sunflowersue

Summary:

Louis winks, “Nah, I like a little pain. If you know what I mean. What about you?”

“Um…” Harry giggles, “Yeah, I think, I mean know, I like pain.”

A florist x tattoo artist AU where Harry brings weekly blooms into Dagger Tattoo Studio, and Louis has no option but to fall in love.

Notes:

this is based on a prompt from the amazing suavegirasol, which i'll link to in the end notes

as always, thankyou to my cheerleader and beta. go check their fics out (i'm very attached to knee deep in the passenger seat larry!)

disclaimer: this is fiction, obviously
i do not consent to publishing this story on any other platform or to translations of this story. my only account is on here.

Chapter 1: one

It’s been a long time coming. At fifteen, when Zayn gave him a dodgy stick and poke tattoo in the treehouse behind their houses, Louis knew he wanted to be in the tattoo industry. He and Zayn had a vision for their shop, crafted over their last high school years. They’d both completed apprenticeships elsewhere before working together at Five Arrows for the past few years. Owning their own studio was always the dream, so Zayn and Louis had spent days touring shops before stumbling across this location. It’s nestled in the heart of London between a florist and some upscale stationery shop. The kind that sells pens with a tassel on it and charges $30 for the pen.

Inside, the studio is a mess. A huge mess. It’s like the previous tenants had a huge party and never bothered to clean it up. With a sigh, Louis strips off his hoodie and starts picking up rubbish, and pushing old hairdresser chairs into a corner in some sort of junk pile. Louis grumbles as he picks up more rubbish, mad that Zayn wasn’t there to help, as he had one last client at Five Arrows. 

A voice echoes into the studio, “Uh hello?” 

The prettiest person ever is standing in the doorway, looking like an angel, literally, with the glow of sunlight behind them. Standing a little bit pigeon-toed in beat up vans, they are wearing baggy ripped jeans, the kind that only they could make look good; styled with a graphic tee and an adorable mint green cardigan. 

“Hi, sorry we aren-” Louis begins to speak, his entire body screaming at him to find out why they’re standing in his studio.

“Oops, sorry. I’m your neighbour!” They say brightly, bouncing a little on their feet, making the leaves of the plant in their arms wave around. “I wanted to welcome you, and give you this.”

They step inside and thrust the potted plant into Louis' arms, the sight of them without the backlit sunshine leaving Louis breathless. They are stunning. Brunette curls brush the top of their shoulders, held back with sunglasses, their eyes are a sparkly moss green and Louis wants to kiss those lips immediately. Perfect pearly pink pouty lips. He wonders what they would look like wrapped around - Nope. Too soon. You don’t even know their name.

“Oh, well thank you. But Zayn and myself have a lot of work to do in here before it’s ready for any kind of life. There will be dust and rubbish everywhere. Would you be able to bring it back then? I wouldn’t want to kill it before it even has a chance to shine.” Louis flashes a genuine smile, feeling a bit blunt, unfriendly but he doesn’t want to risk disappointing his new neighbour with a dead plant. “I’m Louis, by the way.”

“Oh,” they giggle, making Louis want to melt into the floor in fondness. “That’s okay! She can be my new plant baby ‘til you are ready. Oh, I’m Harry.” A pretty blush paints Harry’s cheekbones and he gives Louis the cutest dimpled smile before stepping forward to shake Louis’ hand.

Louis is in trouble. So. Much. Trouble. Trouble with a capital T. His new neighbour is so endearing and adorable, Harry’s given him no choice but to fall in love. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but all he knows is Harry needs to stay in his life. Forever, preferably. They manage some stilted, awkward small talk, “How long have you been in the area?”, “What kind of plant is that?”, “When do you think you’ll be opening?” before Harry leaves Louis in a flustered mess, surrounded by dust and rubbish. 

𖤣𖥧

The buzz of tattoo guns sends adrenaline thrumming through Louis’ body. It’s his favourite sound, especially because it means they were finally open. Dagger Tattoo Studio. Louis and Zayn had spent the last month tirelessly working in the studio. The space has been artfully divided into a reception area, a main tattooing area with amenities and private rooms out the back. A desk opposite a brown leather couch greets clients, with a table scattered with books and flash sheet designs. There's a small table, perfect for a potted plant. Louis had insisted on buying the table, fussing over different heights and shapes, making Zayn suspicious. After much prodding, he told Zayn he had met his future partner who was gifting them a plant. Zayn laughed.

The job list had seemed endless but as Zayn’s tattooing one of their first clients, Louis is attempting some social media marketing; all the stress blurs into nothingness.

Harry steps into the studio, the chiming of the bells above the door reverberating around the space. He is carrying the plant, looking as pretty as ever in a lace crochet white and purple top with brown flare slacks. The top gapes open, one button shy from being innaproprate. A dainty pearl necklace pokes out of the neckline, his fingernails are painted pale blue and he has a little claw clip holding curls back from his face. Louis had almost forgotten about his florist neighbour. Almost. Well, not really. He couldn’t quite get pretty green eyes, cheekbones and curls out of his mind.

“Hiii Louis,” Harry drags out the ‘i’, and Louis wants to kiss those dimples. He looks around, beaming. “Looks amazing in here! I’ve bought Martha back for you. I named her, hope that's okay. She’s easy to take care of, don't worry, right here the sunlight will be perfect and you only need to water her when you remember, or when the leaves get droopy. Maybe just tip whatever's left in your water bottle at the end of a day.”

Louis wonders if Harry ever gets out of breath from talking like that, syrupy slow but at the same time so many words left his mouth.

“Woah, so many words Harry.” Louis laughs out, causing Harry to just smile and look at the floor shyly. “Thank you. Martha is very nice, I’m sure we will be okay. Don’t be scared to pop in anytime to check on her if you're attached.”

Any excuse to see Harry.

“I might have to check on her daily to make sure she is okay.”

“Hey, I know how to care for a plant!” The sad leaves on Louis’ peace lily that his sister told him was ‘impossible to kill’ beg to differ.

“We’ll see, we’ll see. When did you start tattooing?” Harry makes himself comfortable on the couch, patting Martha’s leaves, who is now perched on the side table. Louis can't help but drag his eyes over Harry, noticing dark nipples through the lace. His long legs cross over each other, smart black loafers tapping the floor mindlessly.

“Pretty much since I left school. Zayn got me addicted.” Louis leans on the countertop of the desk opposite Harry, resting his head on his hand.

“Is Zayn your boyfr- Sorry shouldn't assume.” There’s that pretty blush again.

“You assumed correctly, but Zayn is not my boyfriend.” Louis winks, he is absolutely flirting.

“It’s the triangle tattoo. Can always tell a man by his ankles.”

A pretty boy that knows his queer history. Can Harry be any more perfect?

“An ankle fetish? That’s new.”

Harry bursts into laughter, a loud honk escapes and he slaps his hand over his mouth as if to try and contain it. He gets up, coming to stand at the desk and boops Louis on the nose. “You’re annoying. I have some lilies waiting to get into bouquets so I gotta go but see you soon, yeah? Be nice to Martha!”

Harry leaves with a flounce, Louis shaking his head in disbelief. That boy will be the end of him.

Chapter 2: two

Zayn is in the middle of tattooing Louis, their favourite pastime. They had a few hours free, and it's basically free marketing for the studio. He’s tattooed a little smiley face onto Louis’ upper thigh, covering it in protective film before moving onto a detailed compass pointing to the word ‘home’ on his arm. The burn from the tattoo gun faded into something almost pleasurable, making Louis shift a little in his seat. Zings of pleasure radiate from his arm, his cock stirring in his shorts. By now, Zayn knows Louis too well so he doesn’t bother checking in.

The chimes ring out and Harry steps in, face mostly covered by a bouquet of daisies. He’s wearing a well loved Umbro sweatshirt with some tiny red shorts. Long, unfairly tan legs stretch out from beneath the stems of the bouquet. Louis is sure if Harry bent over, his ass cheeks would be out. Bright yellow sneakers and scrunched white socks add to the whole ‘off duty model’ aura. Zayn sends Louis a knowing look, a silent look of mischief as he wipes excess ink off Louis’ arm and sits back to allow Louis to go greet Harry. Louis scowls and shakes his head, mouthing “Fuck off.”

“Hi Harry!” Louis has to adjust his cock as he gets off the table.

“Hii Louiss,” Harry says adorably, dropping the daisies slightly to smile at Louis. “This bouquet wasn’t purchased yesterday, and I don’t want it to go to waste, I thought it might brighten up the studio.”

“They're beautiful, but we don't have a -”

“Vase? Let me go grab one.” Harry gives Louis the bouquet of flowers and spins to nearly run out of the door, leaving behind a delicious scent of vanilla caramel, tinged with floral.

“Louis,” Zayn warns.

Louis whips his head around, hissing at Zayn. “What am I meant to do? Decline them? He is an actual cupcake.”

“Exactly, so don’t break his heart.”

Louis had a bit of a reputation amongst their friend group. They charmingly call him a whore, as he hasn't had a relationship for over a year. With everything happening with the new studio, he hasn’t exactly had time to date but absolutely has had time for one night stands. A lot of them. Their hissed conversation ends abruptly when the door chime rings again, Harry stepping back in holding a glass vase.

“Just for you!” He exclaims, placing the pretty vase on the front desk.

“Thank you,” Louis replies, handing the bouquet back for Harry to fuss with. “How much do we owe you?”

“Nothing,” Harry speaks into the flowers, tweaking one of the daisies.

“Harry, c’mon. We have to pay you for your work.”

Harry fluffs the arrangement one last time, before twinkly eyes meet Louis’. “Nope.” He pops the ‘p’. “You just continue to be a nice neighbour. So, where are all your customers?”

Louis bursts out laughing, “Well, sorry we aren’t as busy as you’d expect. We are just a baby studio, you know.”

“No, you usually have people in here, that’s all. Sorry to offend you,” Harry pouts. Louis gets butterflies.

“Harry, I was joking. Zayn was actually tattooing me.”

“Oh, can I see? What did you get?”

Louis rounds the desk to stand in front of Harry. Popping his leg out, he pulls his shorts up slightly to show the new tattoo. “A little smiley face for my thigh and on my arm, he’s not finished the compass yet.”

“A baby smiley! A thighley face! ” Harry leans down to inspect, Louis willing his cock to behave. “Can I touch?”

“Um, sure.” Louis replies hesitantly. Technically, Harry should not be touching a fresh tattoo, but how is Louis meant to say no? A pretty boy asking to touch his thigh, there's no way to deny that. Especially if said pretty boy already has a piece of your heart.

Harry runs a finger over the smiley. It’s like electricity poured out of Harry’s fingertips and shoots straight to his cock. Louis tries not to flinch as the tattoo burns slightly under Harry’s touch and his cock swells and throbs. He braces his thigh muscles, willing his dick to behave as Harry caresses his thigh, inches away from his cock.

“Does it hurt?” Harry looks up through his eyelashes. A shiver of arousal travels through Louis’ body at the sight, he definitely is not having pure thoughts.

“That one?” Harry nods. “Not as much, it depends where the tattoo is, and that one is pretty small. But, it stings a little now.”

Harry recoils, “Sorry.”

Louis winks, “Nah, I like a little pain. If you know what I mean.”

Red blush appears on Harry’s cheekbones as he tries to hide his smile. “Okay. Good to know.”

Flirting? Louis can get behind this.

“What about you?”

“Um…” Harry giggles, “Yeah, I think, I mean know, I like pain.”

Oh.

Louis doubles over in laughter, “Harry…that's not what I meant. Tattoos? I meant, what about you, do you like or have any tattoos?”

Harry is bright red, like a fresh cherry but still looking so beautiful. How does someone look so gorgeous when they're embarrassed? Louis thinks he can hear a muffled laugh from Zayn, fighting the urge to turn around and shoot daggers his way. 

“No I don't. I had a bad experience that kind of put me off tattoo artists. Until a cute one moved in next door.” 

His heart rate triples at Harry implying he is cute, almost making him falter. He clears his throat, hoping to avoid a shaky voice, “Do you want tattoos though?”

“Yes! I’d love some but after last time I’m just not sure…” Harry trails off, picking at his fingernails. 

“Here, we should sit.” Louis places his hand gently on Harry’s, guiding him to sit at the couch. Harry folds his legs, somewhat like a baby deer, under him and turns his entire body to face Louis.

“If you are comfortable telling me what happened, I’ll tell you whether it’s normal. Likely it is not.”

“Okay…” Harry says softly, “I wanted a tattoo on my ribcage, a birdcage, but he kept telling me how painful it would be and wasn’t willing to change the sizing or placement at all. He just omitted really bad vibes, I’m so glad I walked out of there.”

“Harry… that is not normal at all. Here, we schedule enough time for each client to discuss sizing and placement; as well as small redesigns if needed. And, if they are not ready we are completely willing to reschedule for another time. That artist sounds really shitty, I wouldn’t be surprised if others had bad experiences as well.”

“It was Corden Tattoos, not sure if you’ve heard of them?” Harry asks.

“HATE THAT GUY!” Zayn pipes up from the back.

“Zayn, stop eavesdropping!” Louis shouts, turning back to Harry. “He is known in the industry for having awful customer experiences, and he deletes bad reviews so he looks good online. I had to fix plenty of his bad tattoos back at Five Arrows.”

Harry squirms a little under Louis’ gaze, “Thank you, it’s also a little bit of the pain that scares me. Maybe one day I’ll eventually get one.” He sends Louis a quick smile, before getting up. “I think that’s my lunch over, Alessandro will be wondering where I am. See you later?” Louis nods. “Bye Zayn!” 

Louis fights a huge grin as he walks back toward Zayn.

“You’re fucked.” Zayn says bluntly. “Utterly fucked.”

𖤣𖥧

The flowers are looking a little bit droopy, reflecting Louis' mood. He hasn’t seen even a glimpse of Harry over the past week, and he is having a terrible day. It started with his alarm not going off, then it started pouring with rain as he was walking to the studio. He entered dripping wet to find a puddle forming in the corner of the room. A leaking roof. Just another expense for the studio. The new tattoo gun he ordered got lost in transit. 

Not a bad life, just a bad day. Not a bad life, just a bad day. 

He had repeated the phrase his mum taught him over and over, and it wasn’t even 10 AM. Louis has been flitting between the tattoo stations, tattooing random pieces and sitting at the reception desk, complaining about being damp and cold. Zayn had long given up on trying to say anything about bringing the ‘vibe’ down for the clients. 

At 12 PM, a ball of sunshine walks in the door. Louis can literally feel the grumpiness leave his soul. Harry is dressed a little like a disco ball, blue green striped glitter long sleeve shirt with cream slacks and blue sambas. There’s a hint of blush and mascara coating his lashes, accentuating his pretty eyes. Dimples carve into his cheeks as soon as he lays eyes on Louis, a bouquet of roses in his hand.

“Hi Louis! Duck weather! I just love it, we have candles burning in the shop and slow music. It’s so cosy.”

Louis lets out a little ‘hmph’, as a cold droplet of water runs down his spine. “You wouldn’t say that if you got caught in the downpour this morning.” Yes, Louis will complain. Even to his cute neighbour.

“Aw Lou.” 

Lou. Lou. Lou. 

“Hopefully these brighten your day? Another bunch that weren't purchased.” Harry busies himself with taking the older flowers out of the vase.

Louis sends Harry a small smile, his day definitely brightened. But not by the roses. By a sparkly pretty boy with sparkly eyes wearing a sparkly shirt. So many sparkles.

“Can I rinse this vase out somewhere? Flowers will last longer if there is no bacteria in the vase.”

Louis nods dopily, slightly mesmerised by Harry’s movements with the flowers. “The kitchen is out back, follow me.” Zayn laughs when he sees Louis practically bouncing past, a complete contrast to the trudging, mopy walk he had been doing all morning. Zayn had been calling him Eeyore. 

He shows Harry the kitchen, hovering awkwardly beside him. Louis’ arms and legs feel too big, too long and he doesn't know what to do with them. He attempts to lean against the counter casually.

Harry washes out the vase at the sink, “You know what cures a bad day? A really, really good orgasm.”

Louis bursts into laughter, “Oh? You know from experience?”

Placing the vase upside down in the drying rack, Harry turns to walk towards Louis, trapping him against the counter. Harry stops with inches between their mouths, Louis is sure he is about to be kissed. “Those orgasms after you've edged yourself for hours, the ones that consume you. When you feel like your body is on fire, leaving you breathless for ages? My favourite. Always turns a bad day into a great one. Would recommend it,” Harry murmurs, hands sliding around Louis’ waist. He thinks he can feel Harry’s cock against his but his brain is too fuzzy with arousal to process it all. The air is heated, lust floating around them. Their lips are so close, Louis can feel puffs of Harry’s breath against his. Louis flutters his eyes closed, tilting his head and expecting to feel plump lips upon his own. The room is silent, the lust leaving the air with a quiet whoosh. His eyes snap open to an empty kitchen, vase gone from the drying rack. Harry had just left him there, gasping with his cock stirring in his damp jeans. 

Louis walks back out to reception in a daze, meeting a blushed Harry placing roses into the vase. 

“Hope you take my advice.” Harry’s dimples deepen. “We have some weddings, so we are busy but can I hug you goodbye?”

Louis steps into Harry’s open arms, breathing in caramel vanilla. They hug for longer than necessary, Harry kissing his cheek and flouncing out the door with a wave. Zayn facepalms and laughs when he sees Louis’ face. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

Zayn steels his face, “Just a tiny bit of you're fucked, right beside the smudge of schoolgirl crush.”

Chapter 3: three

He doesn’t mean to stand outside of Rose in Bloom, he really doesn’t. Louis isn’t missing Harry either, he just wanted to see if he was okay. Perfectly normal, neighbourly thing to do. The flowers in the reception area have started to wilt ever so slightly, and Harry hadn’t come in with a new bouquet, as he usually does on a Tuesday. It’s not like Louis had been keeping track of the days, or looking forward to Tuesdays at all. It just so happens that he always puts effort into his outfit that day? A magical happenstance. 

Louis told Zayn he was popping down to the deli for lunch, ignoring Zayn’s knowing look. Louis had previously waxed poetic about how their sandwiches don't have the right ratio. Too much salad, too little protein but just enough sauce. He vowed many times that he would never go there again. Somehow, he didn’t quite make it down the block. Walking past Rose in Bloom, a soft laugh had floated out of the door that was propped open with a bucket of tulips. Louis glanced inside to see Harry holding a red rose upside down, rubbing his hands to spin the stem. Head thrown back in a laugh, his curls are escaping the haphazard bun they’d been scraped into. Louis’ eyes are dragged down to Harry’s shirt. It’s a gorgeous baby blue, Louis wonders if his eyes reflect the blue. Most of the buttons are undone, milky skin on display. Even from his perch on the street, Louis can see the gentle curve of Harry’s pecs, it makes him think about their conversation (well, Harry’s conversation) about the orgasms. Does Harry play with his tits? Spread out on his bed, sweaty skin writhing against his sheets as he edges himself?

Harry’s co-worker continues with their story, Harry’s complete, rapt focus on them. Louis feels a little jealousy claw at his throat, making him pinch the thin skin on his wrist to pull himself back down to earth. 

“Louis?”

Caught standing outside staring. Perfect.

“Heyy Harry… I was just on my way to the deli for lunch.” Louis awkwardly gestures with his thumb, turning to walk away in embarrassment. A cold shiver climbs down his spine, utterly mortified Harry had seen him watching them through the window.

“Wait! Louis! Can I join you? Need my afternoon matcha.” 

As if he could resist the pink cheeked smile from Harry. He looks a little bit like a bunny with his front teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“Of course!” Louis replies way too enthusiastically, watching Harry bounce back inside to grab his phone. He internally cringes at his eagerness. He’s never felt like this, completely out of control of his emotions. His brain is regularly betraying him, and all of his flirting skills vanish when he is around Harry. It’s like Louis is a 13 year old again, terrified to tell Zayn that he thinks he might like boys.

Harry’s eyes are stunning against the baby blue shirt. A gorgeous swirl of light green and cerulean. As cliche as it is, he gets lost inside Harry’s eyes for a moment. “You look pretty, your eyes especially,” Louis tells the ground as they walk toward the deli, hearing Harry giggle beside him. He wants to record that sound and tattoo the soundwaves onto his arm.

“Are you telling that to the ground?” 

Louis bumps his arm against Harry’s, ignoring the sparks flying up to his shoulder. “Stop being mean. You’re just — a lot of pretty. Too much for my brain to cope with. I don’t know what you do to me.” Louis looks at Harry with a small smile, it’s a lot of feeling talk for a Wednesday afternoon.

“I could say the same about you.”

Louis fonds, “Really?”

“Really.”

They smile at each other dumbly, probably looking like two idiots walking along, just smiling at each other. Louis breaks the silence, asking Harry what his matcha order is. He gets butterflies watching Harry light up as he explains the different options the shop has. Something about sea moss and ashwagandha? It goes straight over Louis’ head but he tries to carve a space for it in his brain in case he needs it later. Harry speaks animatedly about how the matcha is kinder to his tummy than coffee, asking Louis excitedly if he had ever tried matcha as they walk up to the matcha shop named Whisk. Louis pulls a face, “Harry it's green .”

“Lewis. It’s literally just tea. The green is from chlorophyll.”

“Oh, so it’s like grinding up some flower leaves and drinking that. Sounds great Harry, it really does.”

Harry pulls him by his t-shirt into the shop, forcing him to sit in one of the chairs. “Stay.”

“Brat.” Louis mutters, watching as Harry’s steps falter. Just another thing to file into his brain.

Harry orders at the counter, Louis shamelessly roaming his eyes over Harry. His thighs are carved by some sort of God, poured into his cream flared slacks. A rogue curl sits on his cheekbone, dimples on show as he thanks the barista. Louis hopes he can see that smile on Harry’s face forever. That smile after their first kiss, the first time cooking for each other, a sleepy version after they have sex, a good morning smile, the playful smirk, a teary smile when Louis proposes. The smile when Harry walks down the aisle. Louis feels like he should be scared that he is thinking of this when they are barely friends, but it just gives him butterflies. As he walks back to where Louis is sitting, Harry’s shirt falls open a little further, exposing more of his pec. Louis’ mouth waters, and it's not from the look of the green drinks in Harry’s hands. 

“Okay, I got you the raspberry matcha. It should be a little sweeter than what mine is, good for your first time.” Harry’s bunny teeth dig into his lower lip, fighting an adorable smile as he sits down and slides the cup toward Louis.

He gives Harry a skeptical look, slowly reaching for the drink. They keep their eye contact as they both sip their straws, visions of Harry’s lips wrapped around something else dance through Louis’ mind. The taste isn't bad, just very earthy with a bit of sweetness and tanginess from the raspberry. 

Harry’s looking at Louis expectantly, “So?”

Louis coughs, “I think I could like it? I don’t really know!”

The dimples are out again, “I’m proud of you for trying it, at least. Maybe you’ll come to like it someday.”

“Oi, I’m not a toddler!”

Harry dissolves into a fit of giggles, muttering something about cute toddlers that Louis doesn’t quite catch. They stay inside Whisk for way too long, ordering little cakes to share, their laughs filling the small space of the shop. Zayn side-eyes Louis when he walks back into Dagger, pink cheeked and smiling.

“Enjoy your sandwich?”

𖤣𖥧

Louis decides to go on a little shopping spree on a rare day off. The studio has done quite well since their opening, but Zayn and himself have started to feel a little burnt out, so they decided to shut shop for the day to recentre themselves. He thought briefly about asking Harry out to lunch but his nerves got the better of him, and Zayn’s warnings echo in his mind. It’s not that he was a bad boyfriend in his previous relationships, it’s just that they rarely went past the hookup stage or even past a first date plus a one night stand. Louis used to take it personally but he didn’t really have time for relationships with the studio and everything. He is a little scared that he will be out of his depth if he jumps into anything with Harry, but being able to spend time with him outweighs everything else. Plus, he knows deep in his heart that he is a hopeless romantic. Capable, and wanting, to give everything to a relationship with the right person. 

He walks around aimlessly, mind filled with anything and everything to do with Harry. It would be annoying if he didn’t love it so much. He even has to stop himself from looking inside jeweller’s windows, attempting not to think too far into the future. It’s futile, he immediately pictures proposing to Harry, surrounded by flowers. He ducks into the first shop he sees to try and distract his brain from envisioning himself sliding a ring onto Harry’s finger at an altar. Louis thinks he blanked out, because the next thing he knew, he was walking out of the shop with a pink floral claw clip in a bag. 

The bag gets hidden behind the front counter the next day, Louis hoping Zayn doesn’t discover it. He’s not sure he can handle the endless questions. Burying himself in work, Louis hardly realises it's a Tuesday, and it’s lunchtime which means Harry.

“Hii Louis, Hello Zayn!” Harry calls out when he steps inside, a fresh bouquet made of daisies mixed with some greenery in his arms. He’s wearing a babydoll style top with flared blue jeans and ballet flats. Louis is so endeared he thinks his heart might explode. If he is being honest, Louis is starting to doubt the ‘leftover bouquet’ story week after week but wouldn't dare mention that to Harry in fear of embarrassing him. It’s cute that he wants to see Louis all the time. He busies himself while Harry replaces the bouquet, not trusting himself to behave if he follows Harry to the kitchen again. 

“All done!” Harry sends Louis a blinding smile, poking his finger into Martha’s soil to check if she needs watering. “You’re quiet today.”

Louis chuckles even though his insides just melted, “Yeah, um a bit busy. But, I have something for you. Feel bad we don’t pay you for the weekly bouquets.”

“You know —”

He holds the bag out to Harry without question, “I know what you’re going to say, but it’s truly nothing much. Just a little thank you.”

Harry blushes a little, taking the bag off Louis and reaching inside. “Louis…” He trails off, holding the pink clip in his hand. “It’s gorgeous.”

Bubbles of pure happiness are bouncing around Louis’ body, watching Harry study the clip as if it was a precious Cartier necklace. 

“Will you put it in my hair?”

Louis nearly faints, “Um, sure.” 

He rounds the desk to stand by Harry, shaky hands taking the clip. He starts gathering Harry’s curls into some sort of half up situation, cringing when some get tangled and pull at Harry’s scalp. Something stuck between a moan and a gasp escapes Harry’s throat. “Don’t worry, I’m used to the hair pulling.”

Louis blanches. Did he just? He clasps the clip in, gently smoothing out some of the unruly pieces of hair.

Harry whips around, blushing. “I mean, I’m used to my hair getting knotty! Not hair pulling!”

“Sure, Harry.” Louis laughs, brain betraying him by making him think of how Harry moaned when he pulled the curls. “I believe you. You look pretty.”

He kind of ducks his face in response, dimples popping in his cheeks. “Thank you. See you next week?”

“I want a blue bouquet!” Zayn yells as Harry walks out the door, grinning at Louis.

Chapter 4: four

“Just ask him out Louis!”

It’s an argument Zayn and Louis have had many times since he met Harry. Every Tuesday, they bicker before Harry arrives to replace the flowers, and after he leaves. When Louis is in la la land, the bluebirds flying around his head. The thing is, Louis would love to ask Harry out. He’s imagined it more times than he can count. But the offhand comment Zayn once made is tattooed onto his brain. Don’t break his heart. It’s all Louis can think of. They’ll go on a date and it will be magical, then Louis will do something stupid. He doesn’t know how to do relationships anymore. He wants to, so badly, but is terrified he will mess it up. Harry deserves someone who can be a boyfriend, someone who will treat him like a princess. Not someone who has spent the better part of the last year or so sleeping his way through the gays in London. 

“Z, I’m so scared to hurt him. I haven’t had a boyfriend in nearly two years. I don’t know how or what to do.” 

Zayn’s client comes back from the bathroom, effectively putting their conversation to a halt. It does send Louis spiralling slightly, but he just buries himself back into designing one of their flash sheets. It’s something he used to leave up to Zayn but lately, he’s been inspired by the flowers that are always sitting on their counter. Louis has nearly designed an entire sheet completely devoted to daisies, orchids, roses with little stars and hearts in between. It’s literally a look into what his brain is like (minus the slightly NFSW thoughts) since he met Harry. All sunshine and butterflies and flowers. 

The front door rings when Harry steps through the doorway and Louis scrambles to get out of the drawing app on the Ipad, trying to act casual, and not like he is designing what essentially is a Harry flash sheet. Harry has adorable little cherry clips in his curls today, wearing a rosy pink t-shirt and tight white jeans. It’s when he moves the bouquet of flowers to his other arm that Louis sees it. The thing that might make him melt through the floor. The jeans are low rise, and the shirt slightly cropped. A strip of flawless skin is on show, a smattering of darker, coarser curls showing. What the fuck.

Desperately trying to scrape the pieces of his brain together, Louis just smiles dumbly at Harry as he gets busy replacing the flowers.

“Hi Lou! How are you?” Harry’s voice is a little shaky, nervous even.

Lou.

“Hiya Harry. Good! I like your jeans.”

He smiles, that dimpled smile into the flowers as a response. His hands are trembling, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

“Are you okay? You seem a little —”

“Willyougoouttodinnerwithme?” Harry breathes out, lips hardly parting with his words. His eyes widen, as if he had spoken without realising. “Not like that! It’s just that Alessandro, my friend and co-worker next door, thinks I have, I mean, thinks you are my boyfriend. And he wants to meet you?” Harry’s face is bright red and he’s avoiding eye contact like it's an Olympic sport.

Louis' brain scrambles, attempting to make sense of what Harry just blurted out. “Harry, H. Look at me. Breathe. In. Out.” He watches Harry's chest rise and fall, albeit very shallow and shuddery. “Okay, can you repeat what you said? I only caught the end of it.”

“Alessandro thinks you’re my boyfriend. Not sure how.” Harry’s eyes flick away, maybe a little guilt flickering in them. “And he wants to meet you. So, will you be my boyfriend for the night? It’s just dinner, we literally just have to act like a couple in front of him. Sorry, I’m too embarrassed to tell him we are just friends. Are we even friends?” Harry’s fingers twitch on the counter, picking at the skin between his thumb. The other hand comes up to pinch and pull at his bitten lip. He’s so anxious, it’s making Louis worried. 

He rounds the counter to come stand in front of Harry, gently pulling his hand away from his mouth by his wrist. “Hey, no need to worry. Of course I’ll be your boyfriend for the night. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. And, yes we are friends. Good friends.” 

I can be your boyfriend, partner, husband. Whatever you want for the rest of your life. 

Louis gazes into Harry’s glossy eyes, smiling. “Okay?”

Harry’s bottom lip quivers as he nods, falling forward slightly to relax into Louis’ body in some sort of half hug. Louis’ arms wrap around him by second nature, the hug feeling like home.

“Can I have your number? Might be easier than you trying to chase me down to give me a time and location?” Louis murmurs into Harry’s curls, seeing Zayn watching them out of the corner of his eye. He reluctantly releases Harry to reach for his phone, handing it across. He saves himself as ‘Harry 🌹’ and Louis thinks his heart might beat out of his chest from fondness. Harry brushes his lips against Louis’ cheek, whispering a ‘see you soon’ and flounces out the door; leaving Louis standing there, speechless, with his fingers touching the spot Harry kissed.

“Now that was good entertainment.” 

Louis gives Zayn two middle fingers even though he knows he has a dopey, lovey smile on his face.

𖤣𖥧

Harry 🌹: Hiiii Louis

Harry 🌹: Alessandro asked if he could book in at Sunset’s tomorrow night at 7pm

Harry 🌹: Does that work for you?

Harry 🌹: It’s Harry by the way xx

Louis’ cheeks hurt from smiling at his phone, bubbles of nerves already simmering in his belly. It’s not a proper date, not even a proper relationship but he will take what he can get. If Harry was truly interested, he would have asked Louis out himself? Right? It’s something Louis has thought over, from every angle. After the giddiness wore off, Louis realised that maybe Harry asked him out of convenience. To avoid embarrassment with Alessandro. Not because he was genuinely interested. He’s going to do his best just to live in the moment on the date, just for the taste of what could be a real date with Harry (plus Alessandro).

Louis: Hello :)

Louis: All good for me! Meet you there?

Harry 🌹: Could we meet a little bit before in that park? 6.30pm? So we arrive together? 

Harry 🌹: I need to talk to you before as well

Louis: Sure. See you then xx

Zayn eyes off Louis, a worried look on his face. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Should have just asked him out.”

Louis growls a little, annoyed at Zayn’s endless commentary on their relationship. It gets under his skin and digs in to persist and nag at Louis’ mind. Could he fall back into a relationship without getting hurt? Can he even remember how to be in a relationship? What if Harry is not interested? The moment in the kitchen the other week says otherwise, but everyone flirts a little. 

“Zayn, this is all I’m getting for the moment. What if I asked him out, get rejected AND then lose Harry as a friend? I can’t lose him, I care about him too much.”

“You’re going to be miserable after this fake date. And confused. How are you going to cope when Harry goes back to acting like a friend next time you see him?” It’s kind of nice, Louis thinks. To have someone that has your back, cares so much about your feelings.

Louis checks the time, seeing their next client is due to arrive soon. “I don’t know, I really don’t. Will cross that bridge when we get there. Maybe I’ll talk to him after the date? All I know is this crush is consuming me.” Zayn nods, satisfied with Louis’ compromise. “Have you got the sketch for this appointment? The note says chest piece?”

They get busy preparing for the client, Louis’ mind still racing with possibilities for how the fake date will go, and his conversation with Harry that he has to have at some point. Maybe he will Google how to prepare for a broken heart.

𖤣𖥧

Louis spends the day of the date in a bundle of nerves. He can feel every single inch of his skin, brain non-stop thinking about the date. It’s like white noise is playing in his head all day, if white noise sounded a lot like ‘you have a date with Harry’ and ‘don’t fuck this up’ and ‘don’t be too obvious’ on repeat. He draws some more sketches for flash sheets, wondering what tattoo Harry might eventually get. He inks a strawberry, the red ink reminding him of Harry’s lips. The little bee makes him think about Harry’s pastel yellow nails. The swans he tattoos remind him that swans mate for life, making him think about who he will spend the rest of his life with. Zayn attempts to intervene, quickly giving up after a sharp look from Louis.

He gets sent home early, spending the two hours trying to distract himself from what's ahead. Every single distraction Louis tries, he ends up thinking about Harry. Even a shower ended in a somewhat shameful wank thinking about Harry’s lips and collarbones and tits. Everything, really. After much debate, Louis decides to wear his white Acne tank with some distressed jeans, grabbing his olive green bomber jacket on his way out. Nerves are at an all time high as he walks the ten minutes to the park, he can barely even think through the fog. It mostly melts into a low simmer when he catches a glimpse of Harry. Looking drop dead gorgeous in a maroon blazer with a pink and green cardigan underneath. He’s wearing a leopard print bag and his jeans have a rip at the top of his thigh that Louis can't wait to poke his fingers into. Is it a necessity for the fake date? No. But, Louis is still going to try to romance and flirt like he would on a normal date.

“You look beautiful.” Louis greets Harry with a cheek kiss and a warm hug. He can feel Harry’s skin vibrating beneath the layers of clothing, suggesting he is also just as nervous.

Harry strokes Louis' jacket over his chest, “As do you, I like the olive green.”

There's a beat of awkwardness before they both giggle quietly.

“I’m —”

“Are you — ” 

Louis gestures for Harry to go ahead with his sentence, attempting a wobbly smile.

“S’gonna say I’m so nervous.” He pulls his lip into his mouth with his teeth, biting.

“Me too! What if we ran away? Go back to mine and order some Thai?” Louis grabs Harry’s hand, pretending to pull him in the direction of home. Harry’s responding giggle clears Louis’ mind, calming him a little. Louis stops, pulling Harry in a little. He’s absolutely radiant, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks. 

“You’re so pretty,” Louis murmurs, looking into Harry’s eyes.

Harry gives him that adorable dimpled smile of his. Louis thinks he catches Harry’s eyes flickering down to his lips. 

“Um, so I was thinking we could just tell the truth but just embellish it a little if Alessandro asks. Easier than trying to come up with a story we won’t remember.” Harry breaks eye contact, wriggling his fingers in Louis’ hold. “And, um, do you think we should practice kissing? I don’t want anything to be awkward.”

Louis doesn’t even bother answering, bringing his hands up to cradle Harry’s face and locking their lips together. It’s sweet, loving and gentle. The world seems like it melts away, his only focus is on Harry’s soft lips moving against his own and his arms tight around his waist. Louis sucks ever so lightly on Harry’s bottom lip, relishing in the soft moan he hears. They separate, Harry leaning in again to peck Louis’ lips quickly. 

“Convincing enough, you think?” Louis asks, head spinning a little. 

Harry shakes his head, “Think we might need to try a few more times.”

Their kisses get dirtier, tongues tracing cupid’s bows and sliding against each other. They shamelessly make out in the park before Alessandro calls Harry to ask when they are arriving. Harry quickly swipes his thumb over Louis’ lips to remove lipstick stains before they quickly head to Sunset’s to meet Alessandro. He’s sitting at the table, beaming at the ‘couple’. Louis is still clutching onto Harry’s hand, and if Alessandro noticed their kiss swollen lips, he doesn't mention anything.

They settle in, Louis wrapping his hand around Harry’s upper thigh and thumbing at the rip in his jeans. He can feel Harry react with every stroke, a jump in the muscle or shifting slightly. Alessandro and Harry talk lightly about the event they had the previous night, how much they enjoyed creating the floral centrepieces for it. Louis doesn't mind not being able to join in the conversation, focussing on the feeling of being able to freely touch Harry.

Alessandro sips his wine, turning his attention to Louis. “Harry never told me how you met? I’m so thrilled he found his person, you both look so happy. He always comes back into the shop so giddy.” Louis looks over to find Harry blushing prettily, looking into his lap.

He squeezes Harry’s thigh before intertwining their fingers, “Well, I moved in next to your studio and Harry came past on the first day with Martha, she’s our plant, and I guess you could say it was pretty much love at first sight. I thought he looked gorgeous, and couldn’t resist asking for his number.”

Harry rubs his thumb across Louis’ hand, “Yeah, um, we had our first date shortly after that. Partners for…it’s three weeks now, baby, isn’t it?”

Louis nods, leaning over to kiss Harry’s temple. He loves watching the blush form on Harry’s cheeks, his lips turning down in a fond smile. It doesn’t even cross his mind that they are pretending, it truly feels natural. Like his body knows how to be with Harry in every way without even trying. He’s going to have to come crashing back down to Earth soon, but for now he will stay orbiting to just feel.

“When’s the baby due then?” Alessandro asks with a smirk, making Harry and Louis burst out laughing. Harry rubs his tummy, “About 8 months time I’d say. Don’t worry we'll name our kids after you.” 

And if that doesn’t send Louis spiralling, the glow on Harry’s face does.

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, Harry and Louis acting ever the loving couple and Alessandro hounding them with silly questions about weddings. He learns how Harry’s breath hitches when Louis traces the inseam of jeans, how he bites his lip when Louis strokes that rip in his jeans. Harry gets his revenge when it's time for dessert, seductively licking around his spoon while maintaining eye contact with Louis. They stay in some sort of horny bubble until Alessandro clears his throat to ask the waiter for the bill.

Harry and Louis loiter outside, Alessandro long gone home. They sit on one of the tables outside, cuddled up and laughing at anything and nothing. Harry kisses Louis softly, murmuring ‘thank you for tonight, best boyfriend ever’. Louis falls head over heels in love. They didn’t need to pretend at that moment, but they both ignored that part. 

Chapter 5: five

Another Tuesday and Louis is counting down the seconds ‘til Harry walks into the studio. He’s been bouncing off the walls all day, driving Zayn crazy. They hadn’t seen each other since the fake date, but they’d been texting non-stop. At first, it was just the ‘home safe?’ texts that led to sleepy selfies and random life updates sent to each other. Louis’ body is tethered to the chimes over the studio's door, when it rings every single nerve explodes like a firework. When Harry does eventually step through the door, bouquet of roses in hand, Louis may have let out an excited, somewhat embarrassing, yelp. 

Harry hardly puts the roses down before Louis wraps his arms around him from behind, kissing right below his earlobe and whispering ‘missed you’. Whatever they have is beyond platonic but Louis is still trying to build up the courage to take the leap. Zayn’s tattooing a client behind them, so they speak in hushed voices about their morning while Harry arranges the roses in the vase. It’s silly little things — talking about seeing a pigeon eating a pizza slice or someone’s loud phone call on the tube but it's comfortable, homey and domestic. Even though they’re in the reception area of Dagger Tattoo Studio.

“What time do you leave tonight?” Harry asks on his way out.

“Um, around 5ish. Zayn usually leaves earlier but I’m locking up tonight.”

“Wait around for me, yeah? I’ll see you then.” Harry gives Louis a quick cheek kiss, walking out the door with a cute smile on his face. 

The rest of the day passes in a blur, Louis’ mind racing with possibilities of why Harry is going to come in at 5pm. It ranges from a confession of love to Harry telling him he is moving to New Zealand, which sends him spiraling. What if Harry is breaking up with him? Is their ‘relationship’ slash friendship too much for him? Has he met someone? Zayn tells Louis to calm down, trying to give him simple jobs to focus on. He leaves around 4.45pm, giving Louis strict instructions to breathe and that he is only a phone call away with a ‘fuckton of alcohol’ if needed. 

Louis thinks he could burst with the amount of nerves and adrenaline pumping through him. The fifteen minutes are agonising. He paces, turning the music on and off, checking himself in the mirror, tucking his tank top in, pulling it out only to tuck it back in again.

“Louis?”

He’d been so busy stressing about when Harry would arrive that he completely missed Harry coming in the door. 

“Hellooo…” Louis says awkwardly, wincing when he sees Harry’s face falter. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that. Really nervous.”

“Why?” Harry makes himself comfortable on the couch, placing his purse on the ground and lightly brushing dust off Martha and gesturing for Louis to join him after he locks the door.

“Are you moving to New Zealand?”

Harry lets out a loud laugh that echoes through the studio.  “Huh?”

Louis sighs, collapsing back into the couch. “I may have spiralled a little as to why you were coming here, and that’s where my brain landed.” He feels a hand on his thigh, thumb rubbing against his trackpants. 

“Well, I was hoping you’d tattoo me, actually.”

Louis bolts upright. “Really?”

“Just a little one!” Harry beams back at him, his eyes going wide and dark green. There’s something behind them that looks suspiciously like lust.

His brain spins, Louis is really going to get to tattoo Harry. 

I think I like pain. 

Their conversation about tattoos rings in Louis’ mind. Harry shifts excitedly on the couch, Louis having to picture sad kittens in his mind to keep his own lust at bay. The familiar heat is already pooling in his lower belly, heart rabbiting in his chest.

“Do you have a design?”

Harry scrambles to grab the flash sheet book, flipping through the pages until he lands on a very familiar one, pointing at the daisy Louis drew after that very first bouquet. “I saw you drawing this once, and I want it on my outer wrist.”

“One of my faves,” Louis winks, trying to tell himself that this isn't that big of a deal. “Okay, well head on through and get comfy on the table. I just need to prepare everything.” And, maybe have a scream or three in the bathroom.

He selects a playlist on the iPad, leaving it to play through the speakers softly. It just so happens to be a ‘sultry dark’ playlist, the beginning beats of Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys drifting into his veins. Louis traces the tattoo onto the stencil sheet as Harry quietly sings along beside him, sitting on the table and swinging his legs. He looks so adorable, Louis kind of wants to eat him. 

Washing his hands, Louis puts a pair of gloves on and asks Harry to rest his arm on the stand next to the table so he can sanitize and shave the area. It’s quiet between them while Louis preps his arm, only the music and soft huffs of air from Harry. 

“Okay, do you have a specific area where you want the tattoo? You can stop me at any time, and change anything you want. This is on your body, you guide this process.”

Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, murmuring, “I trust you.” He sucks his lower lip into his mouth as Louis places the stencil. 

“There’s a full length mirror over there, go admire yourself and the tattoo. Make sure you're happy with it from all angles, bend and stretch your wrist to see how it reacts. I’m just going to go get the ink and I’ll be back.” Harry jumps off the table, bounding over to the mirror excitedly. “H, I’m going to keep reminding you. You're in control, you can change or do anything, there is no time pressure.” Louis calls out as he heads to the storage room. He takes longer than needed, trying to get into the headspace for tattooing, especially tattooing Harry. 

Harry’s standing in front of the mirror when Louis returns, moving his arm in all directions to see what the tattoo will look like. He puts his arms behind his back, turning to the side to look.

“When will you be doing that pose?” Louis laughs, adjusting the table to a sitting position.

Harry winks at him as he walks back to sit back on the tattoo table, “Sometimes my hands are behind my back…”

Louis forces himself to erase the picture of that from his mind, clearing his throat and positions Harry’s arm in preparation to start.

Snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, Louis inspects the stencil and confirms with Harry again that he is happy to proceed. Harry’s glowing . His cheeks are a little ruddy, dimples on show and his eyes are wild. And Louis hasn’t even started tattooing. 

I like pain

“I’ll start with one line, you can stop me at any time. Just try not to move your hand.”

Harry nods, biting into his lip with a smile.

He starts with the stem of one of the daisies, staying alert for any reaction from Harry. He hears a little gasp then a sigh. Lifting the gun, he peers up to Harry. “All good?”

“Yes, keep going,” Harry whispers.

Starting with the outline of a daisy, Louis decides to try and make light conversation to distract Harry. “Does it have a meaning? Flower for a florist, duh, but is that your favourite flower?”

“Daisies are special to me.” Harry rasps, his voice making Louis falter ever so slightly. When he presses the needle back to Harry’s skin, he hears a low breathy moan leave Harry’s lips and it shoots straight to his cock. “Maybe I’ll tell you the meaning one day.”

“Okay! Just the shading to go, do you need a break?” The sight of Harry sends waves of arousal driving through Louis. His pinky red lips are parted, bottom lip swollen from being bitten. Harry looks wrecked, sex mussed almost. Leaning back against the headrest, he’s breathing heavily and his eyes are hooded, staring down Louis.

“No s’all good.” Harry slurs, shifting his legs slightly. Louis gulps, averting his eyes when he sees Harry’s cock pushing against his jeans. “Keep going with the shading, please ,” Harry pleads, voice coming out as a breathy moan. 

Louis clears his voice, ignoring his twitching cock. “Won’t be too long.”

He works efficiently, trying his best to block out the huffs and soft groans coming from Harry. The sexual tension between them is at a fever pitch, waiting to explode. Louis focuses on finishing the tattoo, he’s incredibly proud with how it looks. Two cute little daisies. It does make his head spin a little that he just tattooed something he drew onto Harry. He’s marked with something of Louis’. He wipes down the tattoo, blots it and wraps it with the protective wrapping. 

“Feel free to go over to the mirror, just try not to touch it.”

Harry’s walk is a little shaky to the mirror, holding his hand up to admire the tattoo.

“I love it, thank you.” 

Louis walks up behind him, dark eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror. Desire fills the room, both of them staring at each other. Harry turns and crashes into Louis in a hard kiss. He grinds his lower body into Louis, brushing their hard cocks together. He bites down on Harry’s lower lip, swallowing a moan. Tongues trace lips and lick into each other's mouths, spit messily sliding out of the corner of their mouths.

“Off, off.” Harry grapples with Louis’ shirt, ripping it over his head before attaching his mouth to Louis’ collarbones. He bites and sucks his way along them, driving Louis crazy. 

“Strip,” Louis commands after a particularly harsh bite from Harry. He squeezes his cock for relief through his shorts as he watches Harry’s dark eyes bore into his own while he strips naked, groaning when Harry sinks to his knees in front of him. He mouths at the front of Louis’ shorts, hands creeping up the back of Louis’ thighs to pull him closer.

Pulling his shorts down, Harry laps at the precome pooling at Louis’ tip before tracing a prominent vein with his tongue. He suckles at the head for a beat before taking Louis’ cock all the way down, nose brushing against the smattering of dark curls at his base. 

“You feel so good, baby. Keep going,” Louis rasps out, trying to resist the urge to buck into Harry’s mouth. Heat spreads like wildfire through his body as he watches Harry suck his cock fervently. In the mirror, he can see Harry’s hips shifting with the bobs of his head. Louis threads his hands into Harry’s curls to pull ever so slightly, thrusting forward with overstimulation when he feels Harry moan around his cock. His body starts to tense, light dancing in front of his vision when he feels his orgasm begin to stir.

“H, princess. Gonna come and I want to fuck you.” Harry swirls his tongue around Louis’ cock, before pulling off with an audible pop. “Fuck me,” Louis groans at the sight of Harry staring up at him with half closed eyes and a serene smile on swollen lips. He leans down to kiss Harry, flicking his tongue against his spit slick lips when he realises. “Shit, do you have lube? Condom?”

“In my bag,” Harry sighs.

“Face the mirror, all fours,” Louis orders, quickly turning to filter through Harry’s purse to find the lube and condoms. Not wanting to waste time after opening Harry up, he slides the condom on and slicks himself with lube before looking up to find Harry with two fingers buried inside himself. He’s whining, fucking his hips back onto his fingers. Louis groans, spreading lube onto a finger and sliding it in alongside Harry's fingers.

“Look at you. Fucking yourself in front of the mirror. You feel so good baby, do you think anyone walking past can see us? When they look inside, see us fucking in front of the mirror? See you with three fingers buried in yourself?” Louis tells Harry, watching his face dissolve into pure pleasure in the mirror. A blissed out smile is on his face, wild eyes watching the mirror as he fucks himself onto Louis’ and his own fingers. There’s a constant string of keens and moans that fill the room. Louis attacks Harry’s neck, sucking a harsh mark into it before pulling at Harry’s wrist so he can press lubed fingers into him. He works up to three fingers, stretching them out to find Harry’s spot. He strokes over it, supporting Harry with his other arm as his body shakes with pleasure. Louis can feel Harry is close, his muscles tense and his back arches slightly. 

In one movement, he removes his fingers, slides his cock in and wraps his arms around Harry to bring him flush with his chest. Louis fucks into him deep and frantic, fingers finding Harry’s nipples to pinch and pull. Harry keens as his hand wraps around the back of Louis' thigh, nails digging in. It burns deliciously, urging Louis to fuck him harder.

He feels Harry tighten, Louis’ own orgasm pooling in his lower belly. He reaches down to Harry’s cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

“Eyes on the mirror,” he growls into Harry’s ear before biting down gently on his earlobe. Harry’s glazed eyes meet his in the mirror. “Come for me.”

Louis’ orgasm crawls up his body as he watches Harry come undone in his arms, arching against him and head lolling back with a loud moan. Ropes of come spill over Louis’ fist, dribbling down Harry’s thigh. The sight of it makes Louis white out, ecstasy consuming him as he thrusts deeply into Harry, coming into the condom and biting down on his shoulder. Harry shakes a little with the overstimulation as Louis is still thumbing at the wet head of his cock. They collapse into a heap, little aftershocks rolling through the both of them, the cold floor starting to dig painfully. 

“Babe, think we need to get somewhere more comfy,” Louis whispers to Harry, attempting to untangle their limbs. Harry just snuffles, shaking his head against Louis' chest. “Just to the front couch, the windows are tinted, nobody can actually see in, and we can use the blanket.”

Louis has to carry Harry there, playfully telling him that he is a pillow princess. He sits against the arm of the couch, positioning Harry between his legs. He leans back, relaxing against Louis’ chest. “Thanks for the tattoo,” Harry giggles, playing with Louis’ fingers.

“Just the tattoo?”

“And for fucking me I guess, finally.”

Louis swats at Harry, “What do you mean finally?”

“So you think the bouquets were always the ‘not sold’ ones?” Harry asks.

“Started to get a little suspicious, not going to lie.”

Harry huffs, “I was trying to find excuses to see you, idiot.”

“Heyy,” Louis says, pretending to be offended. “I was actually going to ask you out, sometime.”

“Mmm, when I have grey hair?”

Louis pretends to search through Harry's mussed curls, “Yeah there's a few there already. If I’m being honest, I was scared I’m not good enough for you, scared I’d mess it up.”

Harry turns over so he is face to face with Louis, smiling gently. “If that date was anything to go by, we’re going to be fine. And, if I were to be honest, I’m falling pretty hard and fast. I mean, I did just get the first bouquet I ever gave you tattooed, so.” He kisses Louis gently before snuggling back into him, leaving Louis dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?”

Harry just nods in reply. Louis is speechless.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Chapter 6: epilogue

Turns out, Louis had nothing to worry about. Falling into a relationship with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air. Something new, exciting but so familiar. They speak the same language, always needing to touch, it feels like they can read each other's minds. They’d been on countless dates — fancy restaurant dinners, movie dates, cooking at home. Spending all night fucking and laughing before finally sleeping as the sun rises. It’s perfect, except that Louis is bursting at the seams to tell Harry that he loves him. It really shouldn't be this scary, he is sure Harry feels the same but it’s feeling like a scary step forward. A jump into the ‘serious’ stage. Falling for Harry was so special, like walking into a house and knowing you’re home. It was soft, gentle and easy. Louis thought he had felt love before, but loving Harry is like rediscovering it all over again. His heart is so full of Harry, he can hardly call it his own anymore. 

As cliche as it is, Louis is going to recreate their first date. The fake date. After much playful arguing, they decided that it would count as their first date, considering the both of them did not fake anything. It was a first date, just with a chaperone. Harry had confessed that he told Alessandro that Louis was his boyfriend. It wasn’t just a conclusion Alessandro had come to himself. When Louis and Harry confessed to Alessandro that they were ‘faking’ it at that dinner, he was genuinely shocked; needing a moment for them to explain why they were acting like newlyweds if they weren’t together.

Louis: Meet me at our spot this afternoon?

He smiles every time he sees the new contact name for Harry. 

They were cuddling on the couch, Louis confused as to why Harry was feeling so tense. It had been a lazy Saturday morning, sleeping in and gentle morning sex before they eventually got themselves suitable to wander down to the cafe near Harry’s apartment. Louis had spent the morning thinking about how this eventually will be how their life is. Slow mornings spent in bed, cafe breakfasts and cuddling on the couch. 

Louis rubbed his thumb gently across Harry’s cheekbones, “Are you okay?” 

“I need to tell you something but I’m scared of how you’ll react,” Harry said, fear shaking his voice a little.

Louis’ heart rabbited against his ribcage, worry filling his veins. He puts on a brave front for Harry.

“H, you can tell me anything. I’m here for you. I’ll even just be an ear to listen if you don’t want to have a conversation.”

Harry shifts uncomfortably, “No, I need to do this, and it needs to be a conversation I think.”

“Before you start, I want you to know that I lo- like you very much, very much. And I’ll support you through anything.” Louis leans down to kiss Harry gently, hoping his love and support translates.

He lets out a breath, settling against Louis’ chest. “You know how you call me ‘H’ or princess sometimes?”

Louis’ mind spins, trying to work out where this conversation will go. “Yes.”

“Why? How did you know I'd like that?” Harry plays mindlessly with their intertwined fingers.

“You’re my princess, and I thought H is just a cute nickname for you.” 

“You have no idea how perfect that is.” Harry lifts their hands so he can brush a kiss against Louis’ knuckles, before turning around to face him. There’s a gentle, but nervous, smile on his face. “I’m genderfluid.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but Harry places a finger against his lips to stop him.

“Let me explain. Some days I feel more feminine, some masculine. Sometimes I’m somewhere in between. Sometimes it changes during the day. ‘H’ is what I love to be called because it’s not gender specific. I’m a bit blown away that it just came naturally to you.”

Louis makes a mental note to do some research later. “I’m so proud of you for telling me.” He cradles Harry’s cheeks, kissing him lightly on the lips. “Nothing changes, okay? You’re still my H, my boyfriend, girlfriend, partner, my Harry. Be whoever you want to be.”

Harry nods, smiling but tears fill his eyes. “Happy tears.” He comments.

“Can I ask about pronouns?”

Swiping away a stray tear, Harry tells him that he is comfortable with all pronouns; depending on what he may feel that day, and ‘they/them’ is perfect if he is ever unsure, but Harry will always be Louis’ princess no matter what. They cuddled lazily on the couch for the rest of the day, partly watching a random documentary while discussing gender identities and androgynous clothing before Harry sneakily changed his contact name in Louis’ phone.

H (my love) 🩷: See you then xx

H (my love) 🩷: Miss you <3

𖤣𖥧

Louis paces nervously by the wonky bench at the park near Sunset’s. Harry had declared it as their spot while they were on a walk one day, remembering that their first kiss was there. When Louis was already head over heels for Harry and they ‘practiced kissing’. They laugh about it now, realising that they didn't even kiss on the lips in front of Alessandro, nor were either of them planning to.

His breath is taken away when he sees Harry walking up to him. Pointed black boots with a chunky heel poke out of the bottom of flared blue jeans that have hand-painted lilies climbing up the side seams, wrapping around the back. Harry’s collarbones look edible, on display in the off the shoulder cream top. His hair is pulled back, just a few curls framing his face and brushing the top of his cheekbone. 

“Hey gorgeous,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s lips, sliding his hands into the back pockets of Harry’s jeans. “You look so pretty.”

“As do you.” Harry pats the collars of Louis’ jacket. “A bit smart to be honest, what's the occasion?”

“I wanted to bring you back to the start. Our first kiss. From that moment, you cemented your home in my heart. You make my world so beautiful, so bright. I forget how I lived before you burst into my life with Martha and those daisies.” Louis reluctantly lets go of Harry to go pick up the bouquet of daisies he had hidden behind the bench. Lovingly wrapped by Alessandro in a blue bow. Harry discreetly wipes at the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. He takes a hold of Harry’s hand, taking a deep breath. “Daisies mean new beginnings, loyalty and true love. With this bouquet, I promise to choose you, in every lifetime. To love you honestly and freely. With every atom of my being, I love you, Harry. I love you.”

Harry wraps his arms around Louis, slightly crushing the daisies. He cries wetly into the crook of Louis’ neck before kissing him softly. Glassy eyes look into Louis’, hands cradling his cheeks. 

“I love you, too. Forever.”

𖤣𖥧

They’d been discussing complimentary tattoos, maybe a nautical theme. Maybe the typical rose and dagger, anchor and rope. Louis wants to get a daisy, tattooed by Harry. He’s starting to think Harry was craving the feeling of the tattoo needle against his skin because he keeps coming up with more tattoo ideas for himself. He still only has the daisies inked on his wrist but his next idea is ferns inked low on his hips. Louis had shown Harry exactly what he thought of that idea, inking him with his own bites on hipbones before fucking him into the mattress.

Harry had told Louis to wait around for him, and to prepare one of the tattoo stations. He has no idea what Harry is going to ask for but he’s already horny at the thought of seeing Harry’s fucked out face after the tattoo. Zayn had given him strict instructions to not fuck in the studio again when he left, Louis cheekily telling him that he can’t promise anything. Much to Louis’ embarrassment, Zayn had found the condom wrapper on the floor of the studio the day after he’d tattooed Harry, and Louis had to fess up and explain what happened. 

The bells on the door ring as Louis finishes disinfecting the table.

“Hi love, lock the door behind you please!” He calls out.

“Already done.” Harry bounds up to him, wrapping his legs around Louis’ waist and kissing him roughly. “Missed you.”

Louis places his baby down onto the table. “I saw you at lunchtime.”

Harry pouts, “And? That was so long ago!”

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” Louis thumbs along Harry’s cheekbone, brushing a kiss against the tip of his nose. “What are we tattooing today? I’ll need more time for ferns, so they’re out of the question.”

“I want a kiss, on my favourite place to get kissed.”

Louis cocks his head, brows furrowing in confusion, “Like an x? Or the word kiss?”

“No, like your lips. A kiss mark.”

His brain starts running with ideas, already trying to work out how to get a kiss mark onto a stencil sheet. “I think we can work something out, where do you want it?”

Harry grabs Louis’ pointer finger, running it from his collarbone down, over his hip before stopping at his upper inner thigh. “Right there.” He murmurs. 

“That’s an incredibly sensitive place to tattoo! Are you insane?” Louis watches as Harry’s eyes darken, his heart starting to race.

“I want your mark again, and you know how much I love you kissing me there.”

He’s right, Louis could live between his thighs. Inner thigh hickeys, scratches, beard burn, kisses, bites —  Harry’s thighs have been exposed to it all, and he goes wild for it.

A rush of heady desire pulses through Louis, clouding his brain before he collides their mouths in a messy kiss. He sucks on Harry’s lip, pulling a low moan from his throat. When they come up for air, Louis wants to just drop to his knees and worship Harry. His curls are messy, lips wet and swollen and face flushed. 

“Okay, we need to focus. I need something to put on my lips so I can imprint onto some paper. Do you have lipstick?”

Harry rummages through his purse, exclaiming in delight when he finds a dark red lipstick, carefully applying it to Louis’ lips. He kisses a sheet of paper repeatedly and then asks Harry to choose which mark is his favourite. Harry clings to him, hanging on like a needy koala as he goes through the process of tracing it and printing it onto the transfer paper. Harry strips his jeans off to reveal white silk panties with a lace panel at the hipbones. Louis groans, Harry laughing at his reaction.

“How am I meant to work in these conditions?”

He doesn’t reply, simply hopping onto the table and spreading his legs wide. His cock is already tenting the panties slightly. Louis resists the urge to tease him, knowing one thing would lead to another and the tattoo would not get done.

“Which thigh?” 

Harry points to his right thigh, “Doesn’t really matter but opposite side to daisies so my right side is claimed by you too.”

Louis rolls his eyes playfully, although the idea of Harry being claimed as Louis’ with tattoos is intoxicating. Harry’s breath hitches, muscles twitching as Louis shaves the area and applies the stencil. It’s a pretty small tattoo, but it's still a mark of Louis’. 

“Want to see it in the mirror?”

Harry’s eyes are dark, glazed over already. He shakes his head, “I trust you and I love you.”

“Love you too.” Louis stands to peck Harry on the lips, brushing his hand lightly over the bulge in panties to make him gasp. There’s a small wet spot forming, making the silk a little see through. It’s hot as fuck but Louis tears his eyes away to try and focus on getting this tattoo done. Then, he can ruin Harry as he deserves. 

Their conversation is punctured with small moans as Louis tattoos Harry. With every swipe of the needle, Harry’s cock tents the panties even more. Drops of precome are starting to seep through the silk, tantalizingly sliding down the wet fabric. The proximity between Louis’ hand and Harry’s cock is distracting, he’s wanting to reach out to touch but knows Harry wouldn’t be able to stay still.

“Nearly done, H. Just a little bit of shading.” Louis murmurs, ghosting a kiss to the top of Harry’s thigh. Like last time, Harry’s dazed out. His eyes are blown out, only a thin ring of green visible around his dark pupil and his lips are sinfully parted. Louis finishes up, cleaning up excess ink and applying the protective film.

He strips his gloves off, throwing them to the side and kicks the stand with the tattoo gun away from the table.

“Lou…” Harry begs, voice slurred with arousal. “Make me come, please.”

He immediately attaches his mouth to Harry’s left thigh, holding his legs wide with his right hand. Louis sucks a dark mark, biting lightly as he starts thumbing at the head of Harry’s cock through the wet silk. The slide of precome and the silky fabric is erotic, urging Louis to increase his pace. He rubs quick circles over the sensitive tip, latching his mouth higher up Harry’s thigh. Harry keens beneath him threading his hands into Louis' hair. 

Louis nips at the thin skin of his inner thigh, and it tips Harry over the edge. He arches into Louis’ touch, crying out as come seeps through the silk. Louis keeps the pressure against Harry’s cock, watching in awe of his gorgeous boyfriend riding his orgasm out under his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come,” Louis mutters, latching his mouth onto the panties and sucking at the salty sweet come as he pulls his own cock out of his trackpants. Harry’s still shuddering with overstimulation, whimpering when Louis tugs the soaked silk out of the way to collect some of Harry’s come in his hand. He shuffles up, mindful of the fresh tattoo on Harry’s thigh and starts stroking his cock, using the come as lube. Harry whines, swiping his fingers through his own come and bringing them to his mouth to suck. The sight of Harry’s lips wrapped around his fingers, combined with the slick of Harry’s come against his cock makes Louis see stars. He collapses in on himself with a spicy groan, come spilling over his fist and Harry’s spent cock. Still shuddering from his orgasm, Louis collapses to the side of Harry, kissing him lovingly. 

“Love you,” Louis whispers into Harry’s sweaty neck.

“I love you too. Forever.”

 

You have a place in my heart

No one else ever could have

- F Scott Fitzgerald

Notes:

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