Chapter Text
If I said my heart was beating loud
If we could escape the crowd somehow
If I said I want your body now
Would you hold it against me?
'Cause, you feel like paradise
- Britney Spears
--------------
The first time Harry meets Louis, he’s in a pub with some of his closest friends. He’s having a good time - laughing and catching up. He’s not there to hook up with someone. He’s not there to chat up a girl to bring home. He’s perfectly content as it is. But then Niall brings two of his friends from his old football team over to the table and everything changes.
Because that’s when Harry meets Louis.
“Oi everyone! This is Zayn and Louis, we used to play footie together, make room!” Niall announces as he comes back from the bar with a new pint. He gesticulates excitedly towards the two boys next to him. Harry smiles at his friend and looks over at the new members around the table. As he looks away from Niall he’s met by blue eyes flashing like lightning.
He reaches over the table to shake the boy’s hand. “I’m Harry, nice to meet you,” he says, not able to look away from those blue eyes.
The boy’s hand is enveloped by his larger one but he gives Harry a firm shake. “Louis, you too.” And Harry doesn’t know if his mind is playing tricks on him, but he thinks he catches a quick wink from Louis before he lets go of his hand. It makes something strange flutter in his stomach anyhow.
Liam, Perrie and Leigh Anne all say hi as well as Harry shakes the hand of the other boy, Zayn. (Harry notes that he doesn’t look dissimilar to the models Gemma used to fawn over as a teen) His attention is, however, drawn back to Louis who’s sat down in front of him. Harry’s gaze quickly flitters over Louis’ face, drinking him in. He’s got caramel coloured hair, fringe messily styled over his forehead, pink lips thin and soft looking. A slight scruff covers his cheeks. When Harry meets his eyes again, there’s warmth in them, a perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted as if he’s both amused and a bit challenging. Harry realises he must’ve stared quite obviously.
He clears his throat to somehow cover up for the fact that his cheeks burn at getting caught staring and starts with an eloquent “Erhm… so. Footie team huh?”
Louis just grins at his awkwardness, “Yup, years ago now though. Haven’t played in ages.”
“Yeah, don’t think I’ve heard Niall mention any footie team ever.”
“Ey hush you! I brag about the conquests of Doncaster’s finest all the time,” Niall exclaims and puts his arms around Louis and Zayn’s shoulders. They both snigger.
“Yeah, lots of conquest we made, it’s just it all happened in the showers rather than on the pitch,” Zayn says and laughs when Niall rolls his eyes.
“Ungh, don’t remind me, please,” Niall groans and Harry looks between the three former teammates in confusion. He’s just about to ask what they’re talking about when Perrie strikes first.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Her eyebrow arched and a faux shocked expression on her face.
“Well Nialler here happened to end up as one of the few straight players on the gayest footie team in Doncaster history. He’s seen his fair share of conquest in his day,” Louis laughs as Niall and Zayn join in.
“Do tell,” Perrie says, resting her chin in her hand as if she’s very interested in hearing more. Harry kind of is too.
“It was absolutely mad. Imagine a team of 20 or so 16 year old lads where at least half of them realise they wouldn’t mind hooking up with one of their teammates!” Louis says and Zayn continues.
“Yeah, and Niall and a few others were caught in the cross fire.”
“No kidding! Never seen so much drama in my life!” Niall says, still laughing. “Everyone was dating or shagging everyone and don’t even get me started on the jealousy and all the fighting. A bloody mess that was.”
Louis smiles as if he remembers it fondly. “It was a bit messy yeah, lots of fun too,” he says and those sparkling blue eyes meet Harry’s again.
Perrie and Liam start chatting with Zayn about growing up in Doncaster and Niall picks up his discussion about his new guitar with Leigh Anne. That leaves Harry with all of Louis’ attention on him and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt. Like he doesn’t know what to say, but can’t wait to say it, all at the same time.
“How about you, played any footie growing up?” Louis asks before taking a swig of his pint.
“Nah, only played badminton for a bit. Always loved the game but was never any good at it,” Harry says with a smile.
“Well not everyone can be part of Doncaster’s, or wherever you’re from’s, finest, can they?” Louis smiles and does he ever look anything but slightly mischievous?
“I guess not,” Harry smiles back and for some unfathomable reason his cheeks burn again. “… and I’m from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.”
“And what do you do now, Harry from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire?”
“I’m a social worker, graduated just last year.”
“Oh that’s nice, what field do you work in?” Louis asks, leaning forward to hear him better over the chatter at the table.
“Erhm, I work at social services, helping people with housing mostly.”
“Bloody hell, that sounds like something that’s actually important,” Louis says and seems genuinely impressed. “I’m a graphic designer myself, helping companies bring in the big bucks, very chivalrous of me, I know.”
Harry smiles at his sarcastic and self-deprecating comment. “Not everyone can be a social worker though, I’m sure you’re really good at your job.”
“Nah, I’m passable at best.” Louis scrunches his nose, his eyes crinkling as he smiles.
The following hours pass quickly, where everything except the boy in front of him seems blurry and unimportant. Louis is clever, witty and sharp but with a kind heart and a warm smile. He gesticulates when he talks, dainty wrists snapping as he talks about his job, his family and yet again, football. When he laughs it’s loud and airy, bright and unabashed. The crinkles by his eyes reappear regularly when Harry makes fun of himself or when he tells Louis about how proud he is of his sister Gemma. To sum it all up - Louis is beautiful. Breathtakingly so. And Harry can’t find it in himself to even question the fact that he thinks so. Louis is mesmerising, nearly magnetic with all the energy bouncing off of him. Harry doesn’t know what to make of it, but he knows he doesn’t want this night to end. Knows he doesn’t want to give up the privilege of being the main focus of Louis’ attention quite yet.
They’re snapped out of their bubble when they notice the others putting on their coats and getting ready to leave. “You leaving already?” Louis asks the rest of them with a slight pout. An unfairly adorable pout, if you asked Harry.
“If you weren’t so caught up in, whatever it is the two of you are doing, you’d know we’re heading over to The Vault,” Perrie chirps and waggles her eyebrows obnoxiously. Harry does not blush for the fiftieth time that night.
“Oh well, then we’re…” Louis looks over to Harry as if to check in with him. “Then we are too? Right?”
Harry might nod a little too eagerly and his dimples are probably making themselves permanent in his cheeks as he agrees.
---
The Vault is filled to the brim with people who consider 1AM to be too early to turn in. It’s in the basement of an old looking building and the small dance floor is separated from the bar by a vault in the ceiling. Louis makes a comment about how they should hire his firm to come up with a less inventive name as they head over to the bar.
With the excuse of being surrounded by other people, Harry makes sure to stay close to Louis as he orders pints for them. Louis is shorter than him with sharp shoulders, toned arms, a small waist and mouth watering curves. He’s got this bouncy lightness about him, like he at any moment could just take off into the air. He is also warm and his t- shirt soft against Harry’s arm. Harry is grabbed by the urge to lean in closer, put his nose at the soft hair behind Louis’ ear and breathe him in. Thankfully the bartender hands them their pints and Louis turns to face him before he gives in. “There you go, Curly!”
“Thank you,” Harry manages through the slightly disorienting thoughts rumbling around in his head. Soft. Warm. His lips. Fucking hell.
They head over to the dance floor straight away, their friends seemingly forgotten once again as they make their way through the crowd. They dance together for a few songs and Harry barely takes note of which songs are playing. Not with Louis swaying to the beat right in front of him, somehow energetic and graceful at the same time. Harry can feel excitement buzz under his skin. He knows it’s because of Louis and the swooping feeling in his stomach as Louis smiles at him over the brim of his pint, but it’s easy to ignore the implications of those feelings when Louis puts a hand on his shoulder and leans in close. “Should’ve known you’d be a terrible dancer, Dimples.”
Harry can’t stop the squawk of a laugh that leaves his mouth, “Excuse me, Shorty, but I happen to be an excellent dancer,” he answers, trying to act offended but ending up smiling so hard he has to bite his lip to tone it down a notch or ten.
Louis slaps at Harry’s chest and opens his mouth in shock, “You did not just call me Shorty,”, but it takes about three seconds before his smile matches Harry’s.
With Louis’ hand still lingering on his chest, Harry’s heart beats wildly. He can’t keep his thoughts from becoming a whirlwind of closer, want him closer, his eyes, how, I want to know what his scruff feels like, I never want to stop looking at him, I never want to stop, please, closer.
Louis leans in again, lips gracing his ear as he says, “Good thing you’re so ridiculously pretty or I never would’ve forgiven you,” before pulling back and meeting his eyes. The glint in his blue eyes a mixture of bashful and teasing. He’s the most attractive person Harry’s ever laid eyes on and he can’t stop staring. The tension between them thick with expectation and it’s nearly too much for Harry to handle.
He wants to devour him.
“You want to grab some air maybe?” he asks as his eyes keep going back and forth between Louis’ electric blue ones.
Louis nods and they leave their half finished pints at a table on the way out to the small smoking area out back. They find an empty corner and stand huddled together in the crisp autumn air. Louis’ face is lit up by colourful light bulbs hanging over them and his cheeks are rosy. Long eyelashes casting shadows over sharp cheekbones. He looks impossible. He looks like everything Harry never knew he wanted but so desperately has searched for without knowing.
Harry takes a step closer to him, the tips of his fingers tracing the curve of Louis’ waist. They haven’t said a word since they left the dance floor, but Harry feels like the silent conversation happening between the blue and green of their eyes is as loud as anything.
Louis looks down at their feet for a moment, biting his bottom lip before he looks up at Harry again and softly says, “Shit”. Like he feels the same way. Like he can also feel how the air around them forces their bodies to sway closer, like gravity, like magnets.
“I know,” Harry answers just as quietly. Louis’ hands settle on Harry’s chest and his fingers trace invisible patterns over his collarbones. He presses in closer and puts his nose against Harry’s throat. Breathing him in.
If the rest of the world hadn’t turned into mindless background noise he might not have heard Louis when he says, “I think you have to kiss me.”
Harry puts his hands at Louis’ neck, thumbs finally feeling the scruff at his jaw. It sends prickles of electricity down his arms. Taking a last shaky breath he leans down and catches Louis’ lips with his. It’s gentle and soft but Harry feels like he’s burning.
It’s impossible. Impossible and so incredibly real at the same time. Because Louis smells like cigarettes and tastes of cheap beer but Harry has never felt anything, anyone, more lovely.
They separate and their breaths turn into fog between their slightly open mouths. Louis twirls his fingers in Harry’s long curls and pulls him closer again, this time with more intent. Harry sets his hands at the small of Louis’ back and draws him in. Feeling Louis’ smaller body against his makes hot pulses of want thrum through his veins. The sensation of scruff against his cheeks as they kiss, strong arms curling around him, tongues sliding together and the gorgeous curve above Louis’ bum, is exhilarating. It might be the most addictive feeling ever. He didn’t know being close to someone could feel like this.
“Do you…” Louis starts before catching his breath to continue. “Do you maybe want to… come home with me?” His eyes dodge back and forth between Harry’s as if he could read the answer there.
Harry nods carefully, putting his forehead against Louis’. “Yeah, I’d like that I think.”
A small smile curves over Louis’ red kissed lips. “Cool. Super. Awesome,” he says and laughs quietly at his own words.
---
Harry honestly doesn’t know how he survives the taxi ride over to Louis’ flat. The air around them like a lighting storm crossed with scorching fire. As they leave the car Harry’s got goose bumps covering his arms and his neck is hot from arousal. While entering the building and waiting for the lift, Harry’s head is spinning with thoughts. He’s had his fair share of hook ups. He can’t recall the amount of times he’s met a girl on a dance floor, in corner of a bar or at a friend’s place. A nice smile and the promise of a few moments of closeness have been enough. He’s never made a big deal out of sex, because it never was to him. Looking over at Louis makes him realise he might have to revise his earlier beliefs. A few hours spent in Louis’ company, making him smile, feeling his warmth, kissing him, has Harry’s heart beating out of his chest, the tips of his fingers shaking and thick heat coursing through him. He’s never been this turned on before and Louis has barely touched him.
As soon as the lift doors close, Louis is on him. His mouth pressing kisses along his throat, fingers pulling at his coat and Harry needs to touch him. Needs to know this is really happening because somehow Louis still seems like the most impossible of wonders. Harry puts his hand on Louis’ cheek to press their lips together, “I can’t believe you’re real,” he whispers and Louis grunts before pulling at his coat in frustration.
“Shut up, stop being so gorgeous.”
Harry smiles and lets Louis drag him out of the lift towards his door. As soon as Louis has let them inside, Harry finds himself being pushed up against the closed door - Louis falling on his knees in front of him. If he wasn’t already painfully hard, there’s no doubt in his mind that Louis looking up at him through long lashes would’ve gotten him there in approximately 0.2 seconds.
“Take off your coat,” Louis says as he pushes his own off his shoulders.
It takes Harry a few seconds to put together the meaning of Louis’ words, but then he does as asked. He looks down at Louis again and his mouth goes dry as Louis’ nimble fingers open up his tight jeans and roughly drags them down together with his pants, his hard cock bobbing right in front of Louis’ face.
For a second Harry is coherent enough to feel slightly exposed, but then Louis wraps his fingers around him and Harry has to close his eyes for a moment not to come on the spot. Louis’ fingers travel up and down his shaft slowly, as if he’s getting used to the feeling of Harry. Then he puts the tip of Harry’s cock in his mouth, sucking lightly, and Harry’s hips stutter at the warm wetness surrounding him. Harry feels out of control with how good it feels. Holy fucking shit fuck how. He looks down at Louis and his mind zeroes in on the pink lips wrapped around him, cheekbones so sharp as Louis leans in closer and sucks more of him into his mouth. Harry puts his hand in Louis’ soft hair and Louis looks up at him, quirking an eyebrow in slight amusement, but he doesn’t stop. His tongue is doing things to Harry he couldn’t have made up in his wildest dreams and when he can feel the tight heat of Louis' throat around him, Harry lets out a load moan and reflexively pulls on Louis’ hair to make him stop.
“Oh god stop, I’m gonna… fuck stop.” He’s so close to coming he can feel his balls drawn up tight, waves of pleasure surging through him, pooling at the base of his throbbing cock.
Louis pulls off, lips shiny with spit, fingers still wrapped around him. “It’s okay, I want you to. You’re so fucking hot, you have no idea.” He sounds out of breath.
Harry meets his eyes and breathes heavily, trying to comprehend what Louis is saying. His fingers touch Louis’ swollen lips for a moment, “Can’t believe what you do to me.” Then he leans back against the door again, resigning.
It takes embarrassingly few seconds of Louis’ slick tongue pressing against the underside of his cock as he takes him back into his mouth, and Harry comes so hard he hits his head back against the door, knees buckling beneath him.
When he’s recovered enough to open his eyes and drag in a shaky breath, Louis is standing in front of him, one hand steadying Harry at his hip and the other wiping off spit and Harry’s come from his own mouth. He’s so devastatingly beautiful Harry feels something that’s close to arousal, but is so bright it’s nearly painful, bloom in his chest. What the fuck.
Louis looks extremely pleased with himself as he leans up to kiss Harry on the mouth.
“We’re not done yet, pretty boy,” he smirks and pulls Harry by the hand down the hall. Harry stumbles after him, trying to pull up his trousers with his other hand. When Louis lets go of him he quickly puts his softening cock back into his pants to make himself look a little less utterly fucked out.
They stand at the end of Louis’ bed after Louis has turned on the bedside lamp. The room washed in warm yellow light and how Louis can look so soft and sexy at the same time is beyond Harry.
“Did you like that?” Louis asks and almost looks shy as he starts unbuttoning the few done up buttons of Harry’s shirt.
Harry’s breathing has calmed down enough for him to be able to answer, “You’re incredible.” And he catches the small smile playing on Louis’ lips.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Louis says before pulling Harry’s shirt off and putting feather light kisses along the swallows on his chest. “I mean… have you seen yourself?” He looks slightly dazed when he takes Harry in and then finally meets his eyes.
Harry smiles and pushes a strand of Louis’ slightly sweat damp fringe behind his ear. Louis’ skin warm beneath his fingers and Harry wants so much he goes slightly dizzy with it. He wants to know what Louis’ skin feels like when it’s covered in a sheen of sweat, wants to know what he sounds like when he feels good, wants to taste him and take him apart and make him feel all of the things Harry feels as he looks at Louis. Harry’s smile falters a bit when he remembers that he doesn’t exactly know how to make that happen.
“You know I’ve… I’ve never… done this before,” he says and is suddenly filled with worry that Louis won’t like that. Won’t want him if he knows. Louis looks up at him and tilts his head to the side.
“Done what? Had sex with me?” He smiles teasingly at Harry. “Because I’ve actually never had sex with you either, so I guess we’re gonna have to wing it.”
Harry lets out a breathy laugh of relief, so grateful for this boy who seems to know exactly how to make him feel at ease. He bites his bottom lip and plays with the hem of Louis’ shirt. “No… I mean, yeah, but like. I’ve never been with a guy before.”
Louis leans his head to the side, looking at him intently, tongue darting out to wet his lips before saying, “But you want to, right? With me?”
Harry just groans and pulls Louis closer to his chest, finally putting his nose behind Louis’ ear and feels the heady scent of soap, sweat and boy. It makes his soft cock stir in his pants, new waves of heat travelling up his spine. “Take your shirt off, I want to see you.”
Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s temple before backing away enough to pull his t-shirt over his head. The kiss is such a small thing, but it’s so strangely intimate compared to anything Harry’s ever felt. Then he’s gifted with the view of Louis’ bare chest only a few feet away and his mind sort of stops short. Golden skin expands over narrow shoulders, down to his small soft stomach and around curves so gorgeous Harry’s mouth waters at the thought of tracing them with his tongue. Tattoos are littered in uneven patterns over his chest and arms and Harry wants to spend hours getting to know the lines and shadows of them intimately. He can’t resist curling his hands at Louis’ waist and squeeze lightly at the flesh. “So gorgeous…” he says almost to himself.
Louis drags his fingers trough Harry’s unruly curls and pulls him down into a needy kiss. Their tongues slide together and Louis nibbles at Harry’s bottom lip, like he can’t get enough, just needs more. “On the bed. Get naked and on the bed,” Louis rushes out before pushing Harry towards the bed and then pulling the rest of his own clothes off and joining him.
Harry makes his way up to the headboard before hurriedly pulling the rest of his clothes off. He’s not exactly well coordinated but when he’s done he leans back against the pillows as Louis makes his way towards him on the bed, crawling up to him to straddle his hips. And if Harry thought a fully clothed Louis would be the end of him, he’s not quite sure how to handle a lap full of him naked. He doesn’t know where to start looking. His hands hovering in the air as his eyes dart between thick strong thighs, sharp hipbones and the dark patch of hair surrounding Louis' hard cock. To put it lightly, Harry is slightly overwhelmed.
Louis lets him look, studying Harry’s reactions as he bites at his bottom lip. “This okay?” he asks while catching Harry’s hands in his. Harry just nods as he keeps drinking him in. Louis seems to take that as approval to continue because he sets himself down in Harry’s lap properly before leaning forward to kiss him.
Harry moans at the feeling of Louis' arse pressing down on his cock as it grows hard again. His hands seems to have found a purpose now because he disentangles his fingers from Louis’ and reaches to grab Louis' bum with both hands, rocking up against him carefully. “Oh my god, you feel so good.”
Skilful hands travel over his torso, pressing down and pulling at him in a way that makes him feel like Louis could mould him whichever way he wanted. When Louis’ thumbs brush over his nipples his whole body shivers at the sensation. If he doesn’t try to pace himself he’s going to have his second orgasm before he’s barely even touched Louis. And he wants to. Wants to make Louis tremble under his hands and wants his thighs to flex around his hips. He keeps one hand on Louis’ arse, quite sure he never wants to let go of it, while the other one pulls Louis closer by the neck, kissing him fiercely.
“Tell me what you want,” Harry says, voice trembling with need.
It takes a moment for Louis to answer, as if he is too caught up in the feeling of Harry beneath him. “Fuck. Touch me. My arse, rub against me. I’m so close already,” he breathes out open mouthed.
Harry doesn’t know how he hasn’t passed out from how fucking turned on he is. He reaches down between them to pull his cock up behind Louis and his other hand grabs at Louis’ arse cheek to let himself get closer. When he feels the head of his cock drag along Louis’ crack he throws his head back against the pillows, can’t believe how good it feels, the precome pooling at the head of his cock making the slide a bit easier. “Fuck. Your arse. So fucking perfect… fuck.” He knows he’s only moments from coming for a second time tonight.
Louis puts his head at Harry’s neck, breathing heavily against his throat. When Harry feels his hand moving quickly against Harry’s stomach as he’s jerking himself off, Harry pushes up against him again and when the head of his cock catches on Louis’ rim he comes so hard his whole body is shaking with it.
Through his muddled mind he can hear Louis let out a loud gasp and a litany of “oh god oh god oh god fuuuuuck” before coming over Harry’s chest. Louis collapses on top of him as if he’s completely drained. He’s shaking slightly and breathing harshly.
Harry lets his hands caress over the expanse of Louis’ back as if to sooth him. As if he’s not just as affected. After a few minutes Louis raises himself up with his hands on Harry’s shoulders and Harry does not expect the frown that’s settled over his delicate features. “You, Mr. ‘I’ve never done this before’, have absolutely no right making me come that hard. What the fuck.”
Harry only stares back at him at first, completely taken off guard in his sex hazed state of mind. Then Louis cracks up in a smile so blindingly bright it feels like the sun just decided to make an appearance in Louis’ bedroom in the middle of the night. Harry’s stomach flutters aggressively but before he’s had a chance to answer, Louis pushes his hand to the side of Harry’s face as he climbs off of him. “Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous you are,” Louis mutters. Harry can’t help but staring at the image of Louis’ arse, covered in his come, as Louis leaves the room.
After a few minutes Louis returns with a damp towel that he gives to Harry as he, still naked and absolutely gorgeous, makes himself comfortable on the bed beside him. Harry cleans himself off before folding the towel and putting it on the floor. For the second time tonight Harry is filled with uncertainty. The idea of leaving Louis now feels so wrong, but what if that’s what Louis wants him to do? Harry knows he might’ve just had the best night of his life. That meeting Louis and feeling his skin beneath his fingers might’ve changed things on a bigger scale for him. Life altering. Mind blowing. But maybe this was a one time thing for Louis. As simple as getting up and going to work in the morning or taking a walk. “Do you want me to leave?” he asks carefully, not daring to look at Louis until after several moments of silence have passed.
Louis looks at him, biting his bottom lip like he’s contemplating something. “Do you want to?” he asks eventually.
“No,” Harry whispers. It’s so quiet in the room and he doesn’t want to disturb the atmosphere. As if the slightest change in the air could push Louis away.
Louis sits up next to him, puts one of his curls behind his ear and then softly holds his cheeks in his hands. “Then I want you to stay, pretty,” he says and his eyes are so warm and lovely that Harry thinks for the umpteenth time this night that he’s simply impossible.
---
Waking up the next morning is extremely disorienting. There’s someone pressed up against him and Harry can tell he’s not in his own bed even before opening his eyes. This isn’t a new concept to him, but the strange feeling in his stomach definitely is.
He opens his eyes to find a sleeping Louis, hair a mess, mouth slightly open and long eyelashes against golden cheeks, and the feeling in his stomach explodes. He’s got a headache throbbing behind his eyes and a mix of both of theirs morning breaths filling his nose, but Harry can’t focus on anything but the fact that even now Louis makes his heart beat erratically in his chest and his stomach fills with butterflies. And he realises that before last night, Harry had never felt them wreak havoc inside him. It’s as if Louis himself has willed the butterflies into existence.