Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Part I: Got so much to lose

🍆H 🍆

When it comes to finding that perfect partner, why beat around the bush? We’re stripping back the filters and the clothes as we have a more instinctive way to find love. Can picking a partner based solely on natural beauty help you find the one? We like to start where a good date ends. NAKED.  

Tonight a flight attendant, a librarian, and a makeup artist bare all for their potential soulmates. When we’re entirely unfiltered, what do we really find attractive? Let’s find out by dating in reverse! This..is Naked Attraction. 

Harry lip syncs the last portion of it perfectly in dramatic fashion before popping a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. He can pretty much recite word for word the familiar intro to his absolute favorite show by now. He’s even to the point where he sort of turns it on for background noise while he’s cleaning the house or just in need of something mindless to glance at once in a while. This one in particular, though, he’s seen more than any other episode. 

The concept of the show is so bizarre, which is what turned him onto it in the first place. Imagine meeting someone you fancy enough to date or even marry while stark fucking naked. It’s absurd when you think about it, but despite the unconventionality of it, Harry still can’t help but feel it could work under the right circumstances. After all, you pick the people you’re attracted to based on looks alone. You don’t know them, their likes and dislikes or their little quirks and idiosyncrasies at first. No, you pick them solely on their appearance…so what’s a little more skin? He knows physical attractiveness isn’t everything there is to a relationship, in fact, it’s far from it, however, there’s something to that initial spark or chemistry, if you will, that he finds intoxicating and absolutely fascinating. And that’s why Harry had decided to go on the show as a contestant in the first place. 

He had watched a full season of the show before he decided to apply to be in one of the pods. Harry had really enjoyed the questionnaire part of it, the extensive interviews to make sure he wasn’t a serial killer or some sort of creeper. He’d met his now best mate and roommate Niall, a production assistant on the show, in the process, and overall it had been a good experience. He’d been chosen by the picker in the end, a lovely girl named Taylor who had picked Harry despite him being the only bi-sexual male in the pods and their date was fun, the conversation was easy, and at the end of it they shared a kiss that was extremely awkward and a bit like kissing a sibling. Ultimately, they’d looked at each other and realized simultaneously that their connection was absolutely not romantic, but that they definitely wanted to stay in touch and to continue getting to know each other as friends. 

So much has changed for Harry since the show. He thinks of how far he’s come in his career and how he’s now able to be his own boss. His brunch restaurant and bakery, Daylight, is doing extremely well and he knows some of that has to do with the notoriety he got from being on Naked Attraction. But boy had it also brought some interesting people out of the woodwork. They’re not all bad, though. Some people are genuinely intrigued by him and just want to get to know him, and he’ll admit that he’s had more than his fair share want to get to know him biblically as well. It never results in a relationship sadly, which is what Harry wants more than anything. His life feels secure and stable now and he is ready to add a bit more salt to his popcorn, for lack of a better metaphor.

In front of you, you’ve got six colored pods. Inside each of them is a naked man, each of whom has a physical attribute you’ve told us you find physically attractive. We’re going to reveal them bit by bit and all you’ve got to do is whittle them down from six to one just using naked attraction alone. Are you ready? 

Anna’s voice is so enthusiastic. He can’t imagine how she keeps a straight face the entire time with some of the jokes she makes and the things people say. Being a presenter on any reality or dating show has to be an absolute laugh, but just imagine having to ask someone about their preference for vulvas and penises all day? What does the job interview for that even look like? He chuckles at the thought of some network bigwig sitting down with a potential candidate and asking them how they feel about talking about pubic hair and nipple size. 

“Can we reveal the bottom half of the gents please?”

The rainbow screens start to rise on the telly revealing that same spider web tattoo and familiar pair of muscular thighs, a little smiley on one. And we’re not even going to discuss the thick uncut cock with a trimmed thatch of reddish brown hair. Fuck. He promised himself he would stop watching this episode. It’s just pure torture. The first time Harry had watched this episode he couldn’t take his eyes off of Louis. Once the rest of him was revealed for the first time, it was a combination of his crystal blue eyes, a smile that carved crinkles next to them, and that raspy voice flavored with a Doncaster accent that had made Harry’s legs stop working and the insects he didn’t know he had in his tummy take flight. 

“Yes, green’s got a great package. I can definitely work with that. The thickness of it is right up my alley. The artwork is interesting too. He looks edgy and I like that.” 

Ugh. Harry almost wants to mute the telly when that absolute twat starts talking. Louis’ picker, Chris, had picked him, and rightfully so because he’s perfect, but the guy had turned out to be a complete wanker and had a boyfriend. Louis had only found out via social media after they’d gone on their date because the guy was an American influencer. Louis had seemed to be really into him, which made it even more heartbreaking when Louis showed up to their final interview and the guy stood him up. What a coward. He couldn’t even face the music after he’d been found out as a big fat phony. He only went on the show for fame or follows or whatever it is influencers value nowadays. He didn’t deserve that date with Louis. 

“Mate, we seriously have to have a talk about how often you’re re-watching this episode.” Niall’s voice slices through the sound of Harry’s munching and being one with the couch and his shit TV and Anna and Chris’s conversation about all the genitalia on display for him. “Well, at least you weren’t wanking this time.”

Harry’s face snaps to his smirking roommate. “THAT WAS ONE TIME, NIALL, AND WE’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT IT EVER AGAIN. Besides, when did you even get here? You’re like an Irish ninja or something.” Harry brushes the popcorn crumbs off the front of his crewneck.

Niall starts doing the worst attempt at karate moves Harry has ever seen. “HI-YAH! Pour me a Guinness.” Harry laughs at his ridiculous best mate. “Seriously, H, we’ve got to get you a date or something. This obsession is starting to become pathetic.” 

“I’m not obsessed, Ni. I’m passionate. There’s a difference. Louis’ just…”

“Yeah, I know, H. I’ve listened to you ramble on about him for a year.” Niall grabs a handful of popcorn out of Harry’s bowl, shoving it into his mouth. 

“That’s a gross exaggeration. I don’t even talk about him that much.”

Niall sits down in the armchair, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Mmmm. Are we gonna talk about the pub incident? Where you dragged me out to sit for hours at the place he works and you still couldn’t get up the nerve to talk to him? Or what about the fact that you insisted on buying a duvet the EXACT color of his eyes and you literally pulled up his picture in Ikea to make sure it was the perfect match? And don’t even get me started on that tattoo–”

“Ok, ok. Listen, I just– I feel connected to him somehow and I don’t know why and you’re right, it’s making me kind of crazy because I don’t even fucking believe in soulmates but–”

“He’s gonna be on the show again.” Harry’s neck snaps so fast in Niall’s direction you’d think his head was on a fucking swivel, his eyes widen at Niall, whose eyes are conveniently trained on the floor. “They’re doing a whole–” Niall gestures his hand in a swirling motion. “...second chances type of thing where everyone has been on the show before and it didn’t work out for them.” 

Harry’s mouth is agape now, his eyes locked onto Niall’s face in a daze. He raises his hand to run his fingers through his hair, his typical nervous movement, but he realizes his hair is in a bun so his fingers just sort of get stuck and then he nervously starts twiddling with a loose strand of hair that’s escaped.

“Wait. Why are you telling me this?”

“BecauseIalreadysubmittedforyoutobeacontestantagain.” Niall exhales the words all in one breath. 

“Niall. YOU DID WHAT? ” Harry sits straight up on the couch with a squawk. He practically throws his bowl in shock, showering them both in salt and popcorn, prompting Niall to look up at his face finally.

“Number one, you’ve already been naked on TV so I figured it wasn’t a big deal. In reference to appendix B of the declaration for lonely hearts, you deserve to shoot your shot. And according to section twenty-eight of the by-laws of sad single people, you’re clearly not going to take it upon yourself to make something happen so this gives you an arena where you have to talk to him. I think it’ll be a good thing.” Niall lays out his case in front of Harry as if he were a barrister presenting it to the Supreme Court. Harry laughs internally at the thought of Niall wearing a peruke and a robe. 

“But Niall, what– what am I going to say to him?” Harry lowers his head to his hands. 

“How do you even know he’s going to pick you, H?” 

That’s a good question. Harry doesn’t know how to explain it, but somehow…he just knows. Niall’s question, though, plants a seed of doubt within his mind. It grows in a matter of milliseconds, branching out to every part of his body and taking root specifically in his gut. He doesn’t know if it’s the uncomfortable feeling that Louis would choose someone else over him or if it’s too much popcorn, but he suddenly feels incredibly nauseated.

“Look, it’s not a sure thing yet. They haven’t made any final casting decisions aside from knowing Louis’ going to be the picker.” 

“Niall– it’s not the getting naked on TV again thing…I just– I’m afraid to put myself out there. I mean, I’ve been wanting to meet him and get to know him for so long and now– what if I don’t get that chance?” 

“Then you’ll move on and I’ll be here to help with that. But you still have the chance, H, that’s not passed you by yet…if you don’t agree to do this, then it will have.” 

Niall really does have a point there. At least then Harry would know for sure. Worst case scenario is that Louis takes one look at Harry’s cock and sends him packing, whereas best case scenario is he gets to see Louis naked again and hear his voice and look into his eyes and go on a date with him where they will fall hopelessly in love with each other and wind up having lots of sex and then getting married and have lots of babies. It’s a good thing Harry’s being so logical about this and not giving into his romantic fantasies. 

“I–” Harry takes a deep breath before he gives Niall a final answer. “Ok.” 

Niall fist pumps in the air. “Fuck yeah, bitch. Let’s celebrate!” 

“Niall, they haven’t even picked me yet.” 

“I mean, of course they’re gonna pick you…you own a restaurant and it’s like– stupidly successful and you’re the prettiest dude I’ve ever seen AND you’ve got a massive willy. And I should know because that time I walked in on you wanking to Louis’ voice I–”

“NIALL! WE ARE NOT SPEAKING OF IT. It’s like Voldemort-level off limits.” Harry gets up and heads into the kitchen to refill his now empty popcorn bowl. 

“Christ, H, if mine was that big I would–” 

“NIALL.” 

“I’ll keep going until you feed me your eggs benny to shut me up.” Harry knows Niall’s telling the truth because he has zero shame and he also knows how much Niall loves his eggs benedict, and if there’s an opportunity for Niall to manipulate him into making it, Niall’s going to take it. He doesn’t blame Niall, though, he knows his eggs benedict is fire.

“Consider it done.” Jesus, he can’t believe he’s doing this again. And that it’s going to be with Louis this time. Fuck, Harry might come on live TV when he hears that gravelly northern accent in person. It’s gonna be all he can do to not pop a stiffy right there in front of everyone. Oh shit, he didn’t think this all the way through. Christ, he needs to go get a mani/pedi beforehand and maybe he should think about trimming his hair? He needs to start doing like a zillion squats a day because he knows Louis is an arse man, which, by the way, don't ask him how he knows that little tidbit. Yeah, good thing he’s not spiraling about any of this. Suddenly a thought occurs to him out of nowhere. “Oh fuck, Niall. What am I gonna wear?” 

“H, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re going to be on NAKED attraction. Which means you will in fact be nude.” Harry gasps dramatically and pretends to clutch his pearls. “That’s right. Cock out. Tits out. The whole nine yards, bub.” Harry brings his hands up to frame his mockingly over exaggerated surprise face. They laugh as Harry starts poaching the eggs with expert ease. 

Something dawns on Harry as he’s whisking the butter and eggs for his hollandaise. 

“So, Niall…you kind of owe me since you signed me up without asking, right?” Niall pops a piece of banana in his mouth and takes a sip of the orange juice he’s just poured, looking up at Harry with ‘what are you up to’ eyes.

“Guess I do. Sort of…why?”

“I’ve got an idea.” A crooked smile blooms on Harry’s face as a sneaky idea blooms in his brain. 

🍑L 🍑

“Explain to me why you’re doing this again?” Zayn takes a big sip of the old fashioned Louis just set in front of him. 

Louis wipes down the bar, takes another customer’s drink order, and starts making the dirty martini, rolling his eyes internally at the order before he returns to Zayn. In Louis’ experience people only order a dirty martini when they want to sound posh, because on the inside they are truly boring and painfully mundane. In his opinion it’s a drink for pretentious wankers and phonies. Hopefully in the couple of minutes Louis was gone Zayn forgot that his favorite pastime is criticizing Louis’ life choices.  

“So did you go home with that tall, broad lad the other night? What was his name again? Jacob…Jesse–? J– something, innit?”

“It was Jarrod, but that’s not what we were talking about, Lou.” Zayn arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow in Louis’ direction. 

“Jarrod! Sampsonite, I was way off.” Louis knows a Dumb and Dumber reference is not the ideal distraction to keep Zayn off his arse, but it’s worth a go anyway.  

“Louis, I will sit here all night drinking your alcohol for free until you talk to me about this.” If there’s one thing about Zayn it’s his determination. Now whether that determination is to get pissed for free or to get the truth out of him, Louis doesn’t quite know at this moment. But what he does know is that neither of those options sound very appealing to him. 

“El, you got it for a bit?” Louis motions toward the bar. Eleanor turns, her long brunette ponytail flipping around her shoulder as she nods and shoots Louis the A-OK signal, winking for good measure. He knows she’s got kind of a crush on him which is– well, yeah, it’s a thing. But Louis is her boss and he’s not really attracted to her, honestly. She’s just kind of there. So that means Louis is going to ignore it until it goes away or until she goes away, whichever comes first. 

Louis and Zayn head out the door to the patio area, leaning up against the brick exterior and lighting their ciggies. 

“You know, I’m just being a dickhead, mate. You really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

“You’re so full of shit, Z. You would have sat at the bar drinking me dry until I cracked and we both know it, you stubborn motherfucker.”

“You’re–” Louis raises his eyebrows at Zayn. “...right.” They laugh, clouds cascading out of both their mouths. 

“I just– I’m at the stage of my life where I want something real. The place is doing well. I feel more confident in myself and it’s almost symbolic to go back on and strip down again for a second chance at finding something great.” And he’s being honest. He’s at a stage in his life where he’s ready for someone to share it with. He wants a partner. Someone warm lying next to him at night. Someone to laugh with and cry with and make midnight memories with. 

End Of The Day has been lauded as one of the most popular night and after work spots in several magazines and blogs recently and Louis’ had multiple offers to sell after he’d turned the place around. He’s proud of how far he’s come since starting out as a bartender. His charisma, a creative specialty cocktail menu, and Louis’ ability to hire a staff he treated like family and who wanted to stick around and do a good job for him, had made End Of The Day a place where people loved to spend their time. 

“And I guess I just– I have a good feeling about it. And you know I don’t believe in all that fated destiny bullshit and the stars aligning in Capricorn’s arsehole or whatever the hippies and their crystals tell them, but I just have a feeling that it’s…gonna be good for me. I can’t explain it.”

“A good feeling is amazing, Lou, but do you really think you’re gonna find something real on Naked Attraction? I guess I’m just wondering how you think going back on a show where you pick people based on what they look like without their kit on is gonna help you find your life partner.” Zayn’s brows furrow as he takes another deep drag of his cigarette, exhaling billowy clouds of smoke. 

“Z, you know my fucking dating history. You know how many absolute arseholes come into this, my place of business, just to get a piece of me to get some goddamn TikTok views because they’ve seen me on the show.” Louis laughs sadly at the memories of people he’d been attracted to and who had filled him with hope that maybe they really liked him, only to be after a quick fuck to brag about on social media. So many people just saw him as a quick ticket to fame or an easy lay. “Fucking TikTok.” Louis throws his cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of his converse. “At least this is the beast I know. And yeah, it turned out shit last time, but this time it’s all people who’ve been on the show before and they want a second chance too. They’ve been in bed with the monster just like me, and just like me, they’re hopeful enough to come back for another try. Maybe they’ve got a good feeling about it just like I do.” Louis shrugs and Zayn smiles softly at him in reply. 

“What about El? Pretty sure she’d jump right on your dick and ride it like Lane Frost.” Zayn spins his fist around above his head like a lasso. 

“Who in the fuck is Lane Frost?” 

“Famous bull rider, mate.” Zayn lights another cigarette as if they’ve got all the time in the world and Louis doesn’t have a semi-busy bar to get back to.

Louis clears his throat. “And why exactly do you know about a famous bull rider, pray tell?” 

“Because Luke Perry played him in the biopic, DUH. Picture Dylan McKay but instead of a leather jacket he’s wearing leather chaps and he’s still got the sideburns that make you quiver, but he’s also a cowboy.” Zayn fans himself and whistles, puffing out his cheeks. 

Louis rolls his eyes fondly at his best mate and his very specific tastes. “Listen, El’s great, but she’s also my employee and I feel like– this might sound mean, but there’s really no chemistry whatsoever, Z. It’s almost like she’s just– like furniture or a painting in a hotel room or something? It’s there, but you don’t really care what the fuck it looks like. It’s just kind of taking up space. And to be fair, I can’t even remember the last time I shagged a girl or was into one. I even told them at the show that I only wanted lads for my episode.” Zayn looks surprised by that. Louis had always considered himself bi, but lately he wasn’t so sure considering that when he pictures himself in the future, it’s with a male partner. 

“Well, then I guess I have just one question…” 

“Yeah, mate?”

“What are you gonna do if one of them has a micropenis?” Zayn guffaws, apparently he thinks himself hilarious.

“Z, oh my god! They ask your preferences about all that stuff, but fucking hell, you know I’m no size queen. I’ve had my back blown the fuck out by average sized cocks more times than I can count.” 

“Shit. If I ever went on there I’d be like– ‘Please find a cock that’s so big it would split me in two.’ That’s the size she’ll be having, thank you.” Zayn looks dead serious back at Louis as he snickers at him. “I’m so serious. I want it to stare me down like Captain Ahab staring down Moby Dick. Emphasis on the DICK.” They both burst into giggles at that one. 

“The great white willy.” Louis chokes out through his breathy giggles. 

“I just– the premise of the show just seems so shallow to me and I know you want something deep. Just– just be careful, babe, yeah?” Zayn clasps a hand on his shoulder. It makes Louis feel all fuzzy inside when Zayn shows that he cares with little gestures like this. “No more dickheads like the last one.” 

“Hey, at least I get a choice this time. Hopefully at least one of their genitalia whispers to me that they’re the one.” They both chuckle as Louis pulls Zayn into a side hug. “Thanks for– thanks for looking out though, Z. It’s nice to know you give a fuck about something for a change.”

“I’ll have you know I give plenty of fucks.” Zayn’s grin is simply dripping with innuendo. 

Louis groans. “Ugh, forget I said anything about you giving fucks.” 

Louis follows Zayn back inside and as he approaches the bar he notices a familiar pair of bright blue eyes boring into him while drinking a pint. 

“Niall! It’s so good to see you again, mate! Thanks ever so much for coming here to meet me. Feels way more comfortable than a stuffy office at the studio.” He slings an arm around Niall’s shoulders. He’d grown quite fond of Niall during his time on the show. Niall had this way of making an awkward and uncomfortable situation a bit more bearable. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, Louis. Plus, I get to see what you’ve done with the place since last time I was here and it’s just a bonus that I can have a pint while on the clock.” Niall winks playfully. 

“Glad I could help with the thirst, mate. Should we move to a booth over here? Bit more private, yeah?”

Louis grabs a pint for himself and settles in across from Niall at the booth in the back corner of the room. This way he can get his preferences questions out of the way and keep his eye on the bar at the same time. It’s a win-win. 

“Alright so, this is the plan. I’m gonna ask you a series of questions about physical attributes you like in a partner.” Niall lifts his iPad up. “Just try to be as honest as you can and for the love of God and the sweet baby Jesus, please remember that I didn’t write these questions.” Niall puffs out a big sigh. Louis can tell he doesn’t quite like asking people about what they prefer in a partner’s body parts. 

“Don’t worry, mate. We can skip the cock questions for now if you want.” Louis chuckles to try and ease the tension he’s feeling radiating from Niall.

“Oh no, it’s not the cock questions that– Nevermind.” Niall shakes his head, seeming to cut himself off halfway through his thought. Well, that’s– ok. Just what kind of questions are these then? 

“Ok, question one. What are the first three physical attributes you look for in a potential partner?” 

Starting off shallow. Ok, Louis can do shallow before wading into the deeper currents. He takes a deep breath, realizing that voicing the things he likes to a complete stranger for the purposes of making a TV show might be more difficult than he thought. “A nice smile? With dimples if possible? Dimples make me melt.” Louis sort of whispers the last part hoping Niall didn’t hear. “Umm– nice skin, I guess? Or no, eyes. I like eyes that tell you something about the person. Like they have this– twinkle or sparkle to them.” Niall doesn’t say anything in response, continuing to furiously type on the iPad. “And I guess– I guess I like a nice bum?” Louis mutters under his breath. Ok, now he’s the one embarrassed to talk about body parts.

“What was that, mate?” Niall leans over the table cupping his hand behind his ear for emphasis. 

Louis takes a deep breath. “Arse. I’m an arse man, ok? I like a cute, pert, peachy bum to grab on to.” Louis laughs with his nervous, slightly pinched voice. Niall chuckles a little to make him feel a bit more comfortable. The thing is, this feels weird to be sitting down one on one with someone talking about what he likes in a human. When he’s on the show, he’ll turn on the drama kid in him and make it all a big laugh, but right now this feels very vulnerable and Louis doesn’t really do vulnerable very well.

“Mate, I really don’t care about what the answers to your questions are. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. I’ve done this dozens of times and I’ve heard everything from ‘I like for their toes to look like sausages’ to ‘I like them hairy like a Sasquatch’.” Louis almost spits out his beer at that. “Everybody’s got their own appetites and tastes and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Louis should have known Niall would be absolutely lovely about his hesitance. He can understand exactly why Niall was hired for this job. He’s so good at making people feel like they can be themselves with him. He genuinely sets you at ease and makes you feel like you can tell him anything. When you’re with him, no judgment.

“Ok, so eyes, smile, and bum. Got it. Next question, how do you feel about tattoos?” Louis looks down at his tattoo covered arms, his eyes moving from his chest piece peeking out from the collar of his shirt down to his finger tattoos, as Niall tracks the movement.

“Firmly against.” Niall opens his mouth wide, his loud HAHAHA could probably be heard for miles, Louis thinks. “Of course, tattoos are amazing. Though most of mine are a bit stupid, to be fair. It doesn’t really matter that much to me if a guy has them or doesn’t.”

“And what do you prefer for height?” 

“I like tall guys or like– short guys too, I guess? I don’t really know.”

“What about hair?” 

“On the head or the body?” 

Niall clicks his tongue. “Body hair is farther down the list of questions but you can go ahead and tell me about both if you want.” 

“Mate, are all the questions about the body or physical appearance?” Louis inquires gently. He knows what the show is about and he’s not trying to disrespect Niall, but he thought for sure there’d at least be one or two deep questions about what he wants in a partner.

Niall looks up at him from the iPad with raised eyebrows, his blue eyes two pools full of questions. “I do have some– new questions that we’ve ummm— recently added about like– emotional shit.” Niall seems hesitant to say anything about the ‘emotional shit’, as he so eloquently put it. All this talk of cocks and bums and body hair and yet it seems Niall is worried about asking Louis questions about his feelings. Weird, but ok. Louis figures those questions can wait until Niall feels comfortable asking them. 

“Alright then, for hair…I like all types. I guess in the past I’ve been more attracted to guys with dark hair mostly–” 

“Curly. Just say it, Lou. You like boys with curly hair.” Zayn interrupts sitting down next to Niall, Louis glares at him before his face morphs into his signature smirk.

“Niall, this is my best mate, Zayn. Zayn, Niall.” Louis gestures back and forth between the two lads.

“Oh aces, mate! I bet you can give me the goods. Lou-Lou, here is a wittle shy.” Niall puckers his lips, his voice taking on an annoying condescension as if he were talking about a toddler. 

Louis’ face scrunches in disgust at the nickname. “Lou-Lou? Really? M’not a poodle.”

“No, we’re both well aware that you’re actually a cat.” Zayn quips as Louis shudders. He fucking hates cats.

“On second thought, I’d rather be a poodle.” 

The trio laugh and drink and carry on as the evening gives way to the night. Turns out that Zayn takes charge of most of the physical questions, which relieves Louis a little bit. It’s not that he doesn’t know what he likes, it’s just that he doesn’t want to commit to one specific thing because what if he unintentionally weeds out the love of his life? Thankfully, Zayn has no problem telling Niall all about how Louis likes tall, lean but soft, and curly. He also filled Niall in on cock size preference and Niall seems to be smirking every time Zayn lets out another piece of the puzzle that makes up the kind of man Louis tends to bed. Once they’re several pints in, Niall seems to switch gears, finding his courage to ask Louis about the personality traits he likes in a man, or perhaps he’s just run out of questions about ear shape and calf thickness.

Niall clears his throat. “Why umm–” Niall exhales, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk. “Why did you decide to go back on the show?” Ahhhh the million dollar question. Now they were getting somewhere.

“I’m doing it because I’m looking for a partner. I’m tired of one night stands and quick meaningless shags in dirty club loos. I want something long term and something authentic. As for the reason I’m looking for it on the show–” Louis pauses for a moment trying to calm his nerves. He’s not sure if he should tell Niall this or not. “...the show kind of ruined my dating life. Now everybody either seeks me out because I was on the telly or they want some kind of notoriety from rating if I’m good in the sack on fucking TikTok. So I figure, if I go back on the show, maybe this time it’ll be a bit more in my control. And everybody there already knows I was on it and they’ve been on it too. So it kinda brings it all full circle, in a way.” Louis swirls his finger around an invisible orb. 

“That actually makes complete sense to me.” Niall nods at him. 

Niall looks back to the iPad and his eyes widen in disbelief. “Do–” Niall scrubs a hand over his face. Why is he so anxious about these questions? He’s just doing his job, right? “ Fuck it. Do you want marriage and children?”

“Yeah, of course. Want a house full of kids, a husband to kiss and cuddle through the night. Family holidays and birthday parties. Maybe a couple of dogs? Absolutely, mate.” Louis nods excitedly, hoping the eagerness of his answers is dampening Niall’s anxiety about the questions. 

“Describe your ideal date?” Um, ok. Louis’ a bit confused by this line of questioning. Maybe they need to know this for compatibility? Or maybe they’re going to plan the date for Louis and his new beau? He doesn’t really remember them doing that last time, but maybe they did and Chris just didn’t tell him. 

“Umm–” Louis tilts his head to the side and looks up to the ceiling to think for a moment. “I like a date with something fun and maybe a little adventurous. Maybe a little surprise? I really love when a guy is spontaneous. And then dinner or drinks afterwards so we can get to know one another.”

“H– have you ever been in love?” Ok, now this is getting a bit personal. Why the fuck would they need to know this? 

“I– I–” At the memory of the one time Louis’ been in love and Blake’s face floating in his mind, all the air from his lungs is wrenched right out of him. Zayn reaches across the table, laying a hand over Louis’ to give him strength to push the words out. “Yes. Once. It– it didn’t end well.” Louis takes a deep breath, silently willing the tears to stay in his eyes. Niall looks at Louis with sympathy and he hates it. He hates the pitying stares when people hear how bad he was fucked over, which is why he doesn’t tell anyone. “Anyone need another pint?” Louis snaps himself out of his reverie and hopes his companions don’t notice the subject change. 

Niall looks at him apologetically and Zayn reassuringly smiles. Of course, they noticed.  

“In lieu of another drink I think I’ll just head off, mate. I think I’ve kept you long enough and I’ve got all the answers I need.” Niall winks and slides out of the booth. “I’ll email filming details to ya tomorrow, Lou-Lou.” Oh great, so apparently that’s going to become a thing. “See you soon. It was nice to meet ya, Zayn. Place looks great by the way, mate.” As Niall’s eyes scan around the fairly busy establishment, he flashes Louis an impressed look and then heads toward the door. 

“Hey, look at me.” Louis looks up from where he’d been watching his own fingers picking at his cuticles. “It’s not too late to back out of this if it’s too much. If it’s going to bring up all that past shit, you don’t have to relive any of that.”

“Zayn, when I left him I promised myself that he’d never have power over me again. Yes, it’s going to bring up my relationship with Blake, but I have to talk about it at some point, right? Me staying silent about it is the same as giving him the power. I can’t explain it, but I need to do this. It’s almost like there’s this gravitational pull inside me that’s drawing me into it. I think it’s my last step in healing.” Louis wipes his eyes at the very threat of the tears filling them. “I need to move on or at least take a step toward moving on.”

“You know I’ll support you regardless, yeah?” 

“Yeah, I do, Z. Never doubted you for a second.” Louis smirks and Zayn broods. It’s just what they do.

Ultimately Louis knows that Zayn would do absolutely anything for him and that his concern is of a protective nature. It was evident years ago that Zayn was willing to be his lifelong partner in crime when Louis showed up on Zayn’s doorstep in the middle of the night after only knowing him for a few weeks, crying and red faced and drenched to the bone after a particularly nasty fight with Blake, and Zayn had asked him if he needed help hiding the body. He knew then that Zayn was his ride or die and that the feeling was mutual. 

They say their goodnights as Zayn heads home for the evening, leaving Louis in the booth with only his thoughts and an empty pint. He knew this wasn’t going to be as easy and carefree as his first time on the show. He wasn’t the picker the first time so there was a lack of pressure and it felt like he’d had nothing to lose back then. Louis had only agreed to do the show on a dare from a mate after a busy shift at the bar and one too many shots of vodka. This time, it definitely feels like the stakes are higher. Louis feels like he’s working a solo shift at the bar servicing three hen dos, a twenty-first birthday celebration, and a karaoke night all at the same time. Louis shudders at the mere thought. And yet, no matter the stress and tension he feels from it, he can’t seem to talk himself out of doing it.

Louis finally looks up from his trance of sorts to find El killing herself slinging drinks left and right and running back and forth at the busy bar. Well, it seems the thirsty Thursday crowd has arrived. He jumps up to help, hoping to lose himself in the distraction of making cocktails and pouring pints and saying a silent prayer to the Gods above for no hen dos or twenty-first birthdays tonight.

🍆H 🍆

Harry flips the last couple of slices of his french toast before pouring himself a mangomosa. It always seems to work out that Niall is more than eager to test new recipes for his restaurant. Daylight boasts a wide variety of diverse menu items despite only being open for brunch hours. Harry often includes a special he feels particularly inspired to create. This month it’s going to be Bluebird French toast, consisting of banana brioche french toast with a honey drizzle. And if the recipe has something to do with Louis, well that’s between him and Aphrodite, goddess of love. Perhaps this special french toast will summon Louis’ attention like a powerful love spell. Or maybe once– if Louis picks him, he can make it for Louis and it’ll be so perfect and so delicious that Louis will fall for him with the speed of an asteroid to the earth. Here’s to hoping that french toast is the equivalent of a love potion for Louis. 

Harry hears the door to the flat open and close and the accompaniment of approaching footsteps. 

“Dear Barbara, it smells like unicorn jizz in here.” Niall’s booming voice carries over the sizzle of the bacon Harry’s candying. 

“Well, that’s a disturbing mental image you’ve conjured for me, Ni, thank you for that.” Harry sprinkles a bit more brown sugar onto his bacon. “What did you mean by– nevermind, I don’t think I want to know.” Harry shakes his head at his stupidity in even mentioning it because now he’s absolutely sure–

“Magical creatures, unicorns are, mate. I’m certain their spunk smells like heaven, why wouldn’t it? It probably sparkles like a fairy’s arse too. I’d imagine it tastes like–” 

“OK. Got it, mate. Magical creatures.” Yep. Harry definitely didn’t want to know.

“Anyway…want to know where I’ve been?” Harry’s eyes shoot up from his bacon to Niall’s awaiting pools of mischief. Harry’s eyebrows raise as if to tell him to go ahead with what he was going to say, although, Harry has an idea where he was or who he was with, rather. “I was hanging out with your boyfriend.” Harry just continues staring at his face, adamantly waiting with bated breath. “Bacon’s burning.” Harry looks down quickly to find his bacon perfectly candied and not burnt at all as Niall’s annoying HAHAHAHAs pelt him in the face like machine gun fire. Apparently Niall thinks his laughs and pranks are cute.

“Not funny, you sweaty nutsack.” 

“Ah-ah-ah don’t go insulting the guy who gave Louis your invasive arse dating questionnaire, H.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Jesus. It was just a few questions, Ni, you don’t have to be all–” Harry gestures wildly with the spatula above his head. “...dramatic about it. And besides it was the least you could bloody do for me after entering me onto the show without asking!” Harry says, pointing the spatula accusingly at Niall. Harry starts to sweat at the thought of Niall actually asking the relationship questions he’d begged Niall to ask for him. It’s not like it was a huge deal, he just wanted to get an idea of Louis’ state of mind going into all this. It would be nice to know if Louis was just looking for a quick shag or if he actually wanted to date someone. Niall’s smirking knowingly at him. “Well, don’t just stand there grinning like a fox, what did he say?”

Niall sighs dramatically, his cheeks puffing out and his eyes widening. “He said a lot, H.” Niall presses his lips into a thin line, looking serious. “I mean we were there for–” He looks at his non-existent watch. “...three hours. He said…so many words.” Niall snags a piece of the candied bacon from the cooling rack. “I mean he was verbalizing and articulating and uttering–”

Harry picks up the entire rack of cooling bacon, holding it over the bin. “For fuck’s sake, Niall, if you don’t tell me what he said I’m going to chuck every last bit of this delicious bacon I candied for you.” 

Niall throws up his hands in surrender. “Haz. Put. The Bacon. Down.” Harry flinches toward the bin to fake him out. Niall sucks air in through his teeth. “I’ll tell you everything, please. Just no more sudden moves with the bacon. Don’t let this piggy have died in vain.” Harry gently sets down the rack and starts to plate up Niall’s brinner.

“Talk.”

Niall pulls out his iPad and starts filling Harry in on what Louis said. Part of Harry really can’t wait to find out if Louis’ looking for something serious and the other part of him would rather not know and leave it up to chance. But overall, he’d rather go into this with a protected heart than to lay himself out stripped bare (no pun intended) for Louis to destroy. 

“So he definitely wants marriage, kids, the house in the suburbs…and a partridge in a pear tree.” Harry releases a tiny bit of the tension in his shoulders with a deep breath. “But I have to break it to you, mate–” 

Concern fills Harry’s body as his brow furrows and his muscles freeze up. “What? What is it?”

“He’s definitely a dog person.” Niall’s face is terribly serious before he breaks into a shit eating grin. 

Harry swings the tea towel from its resting place over his shoulder to hit Niall with it three or four times. “Goddamn it, I thought you were going to tell me he swore off penises and he decided he only wanted female contestants.” Harry wipes the sweat from his brow with the towel. Remind him to pour cold water over Niall while he’s in the shower tomorrow morning. 

“Lou? Swear off penises? No way, mate. He definitely likes a good dicking from what his mate, Zayn, was telling me. Or maybe he likes to do the dicking? I’m not sure Zayn wasn’t exactly clear–”

“Ni, I really need you to focus right now. This is my potential and hopefully future lover we are talking about here.”

“Alright, alright. Calm your tits, mate. All four of them. Also, stop being so stingy with that french toast.”

Harry looks at him with the most annoyed and unimpressed stare he can muster. He moves to place another piece of french toast onto Niall’s plate. 

“Geez, H, I don’t know if one piece is gonna loosen these lips enough to tell you the rest.” Harry adds another piece, staring daggers through Niall’s face as he does so. “That’s it. And be generous with the honey, honey.” Remind him to also throw a pair of his red pants in the washer with Niall’s whites next time. On second thought, Harry thinks Niall would probably proudly wear pink shirts and flaunt himself around like a flamingo on display.

“His perfect date?” 

An evil smirk crosses Niall’s face. “April 25th. It’s not too hot and not too cold. All you need is a light jacket.” 

Harry wants to scream, instead he collapses onto the countertop, his forehead cradled by his forearms crossed on the surface. Niall’s munching away on his french toast, completely unbothered and chuckling under his breath. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll knock off the torture and spill. Fuck, would I make a shitty interrogator or what?” Niall laughs to himself as Harry’s head pops up, ready to finally get his long awaited answers. “He likes to do fun activities, something adventurous or spontaneous and then go for dinner or drinks afterwards. He’s been in love once and it apparently didn’t end well. His face got really sad when I asked him that question, by the way. He looked like he was almost in physical pain from the reminder of it.” 

Oh, no. 

Harry doesn’t want to think about Louis being sad in any way, shape, form, or fashion. Seeing those blue eyes filled to the brim with tears. He imagines Louis’ the type of person who puts on such a strong front but occasionally lets the mask slip and shows a bit of his real emotions. Harry shakes his head and reminds himself that the image he has in his mind of Louis is made up of his own assumptions and ideals. He really knows very little about Louis, just a bit of what he saw on the show and the tidbits that have come up when he’s googled him or searched his Facebook. He just knows that he definitely likes what he’s seen of Louis. 

Harry can tell that Louis is a kind and honest person. He’s a hard worker and a generous employer. You can tell that his staff really love their jobs, and Harry knows from his own entrepreneurship that the business owner has so much to do with workplace morale. Louis seems to really love his friends and his family, constantly posting silly selfies with them and pictures from family dinners, birthday parties, and lads’ nights. But the thing that Harry likes the most about Louis is his gentility. Louis gives off an air of confidence bordering on arrogance and a bit of a tough Donny lad facade, but Harry can tell that, beneath all that pomp and performance, Louis has a soft interior. It’s almost palpable, the affection that radiates from his precious heart. Harry can feel it and he’s attracted to the connection he shares with Louis’ yielding soul. 

“And what about the reason he’s doing the show again?” 

This is perhaps the most important question of all. He wants to be assured that Louis is going back on the show for something more serious than a stupid bet or a one-night-stand. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Harry is subjecting himself to having his nude body broadcast a second time because he wants a boyfriend. And he’s finally ready to bare it all. The symbolism is not lost on him that he’s stripping himself down to nothing but skin for a chance at love, but if that’s what it takes to deserve someone like Louis, he’s willing. 

“And I quote,” Niall says, eyes dragging down to the iPad. “‘I’m doing it because I’m looking for a partner. I’m tired of one night stands and quick meaningless shags in dirty club bathrooms. I want something long term and something authentic. As for the reason I’m looking for it on the show– the show kind of ruined my dating life. Now everybody either seeks me out because I was on the telly or they want some kind of notoriety from rating if I’m good in the sack on fucking TikTok. So I figure, if I go back on the show, maybe this time it’ll be a bit more in my control. And everybody there already knows I was on it and they’ve been on it too. So it kinda brings it all full circle, in a way.’ My Yorkshire accent is shit, I know, but that’s word for word what he said.” 

Harry’s eyes light up so bright he thinks there must be sunbeams pouring out of them at hearing Louis’ own words about his motivations to do the show a second time. Nothing has ever made Harry feel so warm and so alive inside as hearing Louis say he’s looking for a partner. “Long term and authentic,” he had said. Harry’s heart starts beating faster at even the prospect that he and Louis are going to be in the same place at the same time and looking for the same thing…pure and genuine connection.

“Niall. Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite roommate?” Harry rises from his seat at the counter and starts to circle around to the other side, slowly approaching Niall.

Niall rockets out of his seat. “Oh, no. Oh, no you don’t. The last time you looked at me like that you–” Niall doesn’t finish his sentence before Harry’s crashing into him with all his force. They collapse onto the kitchen floor, Harry falling on top of him and proceeding to plant little kisses all over his face while tickling his ribs.

“HAZ, THIS IS TERRIBLE. HAHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS LIKE BEING ASSAULTED, BUT IT’S CUTE AND FLUFFY AND I’M BEING FORCED TO LAUGH. AH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOP IT THIS INSTANT!” Harry just keeps on tickling and kissing him. Deep down he knows Niall secretly likes it. 

Harry clambers off of Niall after a warning that he’s about to piss himself. Niall rushes out of the room, but Harry stays there on the kitchen floor, sitting with his back against the cabinet and his arms wrapped around his knees, smiling to himself. For the first time in a long time Harry is hopeful. Louis’ words have brought him assurance and optimism. For the first time in a long time there’s something to look forward to. He feels like love is waiting right around the corner and all he has to do is show up, strip down, and let it choose him. His heart is open, his belly is warm, and his hands are empty and cupped in front of him, ready to receive. 

🍑L 🍑

“My name is Louis and I’m twenty-five years old and I’m– I’m– really bad at this. Jesus Christ, Niall, I sound like a complete knob.” Louis collapses from the waist up, his elbows resting on his thighs, wiping his hands across his face, hoping it will rub some composure into his brain. 

“You’re fine, Lou. Just pretend like it’s just you and me getting to know each other. You don’t have to sell yourself, mate, people naturally want to buy already.” Niall’s words are comforting, but it doesn’t change the fact that Louis feels extremely self-conscious recording this little intro. 

Louis knows he can tap into the magnetism and the charisma once he’s recording the show, but here in this little room with just him and Niall and a camera, it feels…different. He knew that recording the intro and the pre-show interview stuff would be more intimate, but he didn’t expect to be nervous about something as silly as giving an introduction and talking about himself for two minutes. Maybe it’s bringing up his insecurities lurking beneath the surface? His ex boyfriend had definitely done his part to make Louis feel like he was nothing. Like he was unworthy of love, but that’s what you get when you date an emotionally abusive choadburger like Blake. 

He was never physically violent with Louis and he never cheated on him, at least not that Louis was aware of, but his slicing words and his bruising manipulation…they were far more damaging to Louis than any strike on the face could ever be. There’s only so many times a person can tell you that you’re a talentless, dumb piece of shit before you actually start to believe them. Those are the types of wounds and abrasions that leave invisible scars far deeper within. His lies had grown on and inside of Louis like a fungus, covering his inner light. Blake had tried so hard to extinguish the light glowing within Louis, and he had almost succeeded until one night Blake had said something he could never, ever take back. It was also something Louis could never, ever forgive. So Louis left, running barefoot in the rain to Zayn’s flat in just a t-shirt and joggers, not giving a fuck if he froze to death. 

From that moment on, standing on Zayn’s doorstep freezing and wet and scared out of his mind, Louis made the decision to take control of his own life back. Blake was wrong about a lot of things he said that night. Louis was a good person, a good son, a good brother, and a hard worker and he knew he was going to amount to something someday. He hasn’t told another soul the vile things that slithered out of Blake’s mouth, but the main thing that stuck with him that Blake was wrong about was that Louis was unloveable. He knew he could be something important to the right somebody and now here he is putting himself out there again in hopes that the right somebody will be standing naked behind one of the colorful screens, willing to be just as vulnerable as Louis is.  

The idea of talking himself up so that people will like him and want to watch Louis’ episode feels very used car salesman. He’s spent a lot of time over the past couple of years in therapy learning to like himself again and he'd be lying if he said he’d figured it out and that it wasn’t an everyday battle. Imagine not fully liking yourself and being expected to tell people why they should like you while being filmed for television. He feels a bit like a phony doing this. The nakedness was the least of Louis’ worries at this point.

Before he realizes it Niall is standing right in front of him, looking down with kind eyes. Niall places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Lou. You’ve got nothing to prove, you know? Not to me, not to anyone else. There’s nothing to lose here either, mate. Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.” Louis raises his gaze to Niall, blinking up at him. 

“Have they picked them yet?”

“Picked who?”

“You know– them. My– God, it sounds shitty to say it like this, but…my choices?”

“Oh, the singletons? Yeah, they’re being notified today, I think? Lovely looking lads if you ask me.” Niall winks for good measure.

“I don’t care what they look like, are they–”

“Mate, you might be on the wrong show if you don’t care what they look like.” Niall chuckles. “Might I recommend Love is Blind?” Louis giggles, covering his mouth with his hand to dampen the sound. 

“I mean, I do care, but I’m more interested in what’s on the inside.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re thinking about what’s inside.” Niall makes a crude gesture, his index finger slipping in and out of the circle his other hand forms. Louis laughs despite the inappropriateness of the whole thing.

“S’not about sex for me, mate.” Louis shakes his head.

“I know, Lou, I’m just trying to keep the laughs going so you’ll feel comfortable enough to get through this.” Niall gives him a playful pat on the cheek. “Laughter is my chosen lubricant in the intercourse of conversation.” Niall shakes a finger in the air and winks again as Louis sputters a laugh, spitting his sip of tea out in the process. Note to self: do not imbibe while Niall is speaking. “Alright, mate, let’s try it again and this time, just talk to me.”

Louis nods as Niall positions himself back in his seat next to the tripod. It seems Niall was right. All of a sudden Louis feels much more at ease and much more himself after laughing with his friend and having a minor emotional outburst. He lets out a deep sigh and places his hand over his diaphragm to feel the movement of his breath to ground himself. Niall’s words run through his head on repeat as the red light on the camera pops on. 

Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.

Louis flashes a mischievous smirk to the camera. “Oi, oi. I’m Louis…”

Chapter Text

Part II: Lights up and they know who you are

🍆H 🍆

Harry finishes undressing and slides the soft blue dressing gown over his skin. He runs his fingers down the hem of the fabric against his chest, wondering if he’ll get to keep it. He can’t imagine they wouldn’t let him keep it considering it’s currently touching his naked cock. He doesn’t remember there being such high quality robes last time. Granted, that was a much earlier season before the popularity of the show had skyrocketed. Well, if they don’t let him keep it he’ll just ask Niall to nick one for him. 

The holding room is a bit depressing, painted a bleak gray color with a row of open cupboards containing the colorful robes being the only brightness in the room. There’s a table on the other wall with snacks and drinks and a bowl of fresh fruit, and on the far end of the room there’s a semi circle of cushy chairs upholstered with a black and gray striped pattern. He supposes rooms that are designed for people to wait in aren’t supposed to be too cheerful and happy. Perhaps they wanted it this way to help with people’s nervousness before going on the air, however the dull room does nothing to calm the rabbiting beat of Harry’s heart or the agitation churning in his belly.

As he’s tying the belt around his waist he hears the door open and close and another man’s voice. “Oh, hey bro. Sorry to bust in on you while you’re indisposed, but hey, I guess that’s what this show is all about, yeah?” Harry vaguely recognizes his soft brown eyes and chiseled physique from another episode but he can’t quite place the name. 

“No trouble at all. I was just admiring how posh these dressing gowns are. I don’t remember them being so fluffy back in season two.” Harry extends his hand and the other fellow wraps it warmly in his. “M’Harry.”

“Liam. Season four. Nice to meet you!” Harry can tell by Liam’s demeanor he’s a kind and gentle person. His exterior looks so strong and a bit intimidating with all the muscles and the score of tattoos and yet he holds himself a bit like a child in search of their teddy for comfort. He seems like he’s itching to hug or be hugged and Harry wouldn’t mind accommodating that, what with his own anxiety about this whole thing stirring about inside him. Liam turns towards the open cupboard with his name on it and starts to undress.  

Harry isn’t nervous about being on camera or the nudity, or accidentally popping a boner on live telly. He isn’t nervous about the competition portion of this whole thing because Harry knows his own worth. Harry’s just nervous to be in the same room with Louis. To share air and space and time with him. He remembers when he had dragged Niall to the pub it had almost been overwhelming to him to see Louis gliding from one corner of the bar to the other. Watching him wipe down tables and lugging kegs to the back of the bar had been a thrill, sure, because Louis is outrageously sexy and watching the muscles of his back flex as he performed tasks of manual labor had rendered Harry unable to speak to him or introduce himself the way he had planned to. There was this buzzing of energy he had felt when he looked at Louis, almost like all his nerve endings and cells recognized and vibrated in response to Louis’ close proximity. Harry couldn’t intelligibly explain the feeling because he’d never felt like that before, so he had absolutely no litmus test to compare it against. He has a feeling that Louis still carries that weight with his presence and Harry’s a tiny bit apprehensive to allow himself to yet again be rendered to a naked blob of incoherent babbling and creepy staring once he’s faced with the blue of Louis’ eyes again. 

Harry’s repetitively rehearsing in his head what he might say if he does reach the voice reveal portion of the show and thinking of little ways to catch Louis’ attention before he’s allowed to talk to Louis. 

“Heyyy, stranger!” Harry lifts his eyes from where he was scrolling on his phone to see a friendly and familiar face staring back at him. 

“Michael! Oh my god, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Harry jumps up to embrace his mate and realizes a second too late how awkward it is that he’s pulling Michael into a warm hug wearing nothing but a thin piece of blue material. He had met Michael when he and Taylor had come back to film their follow up interviews and Michael had been there for the same reason. Harry had tripped over something and apologized profusely cursing his fucking lanky limbs for putting him off balance and Michael had related so deeply to being tall and clumsy that they just sort of hit it off right away. Michael eased Harry’s embarrassment by assuring him that he trips over his own two boat feet all the time. He was a lovely person and handsome to boot. Tall with a lithe body and slicked hair. Porcelain skin, and dark eyes that seemingly pierced your soul when he focused his gaze on you. God, if only Harry wasn’t so hung up on Louis he might have at least been up for a little sheet shaking session with Michael if he was so obliged. He had a feeling however that Michael was here because he and Harry had the same type when it came to men. Upon remembrance of the man Michael had gone on a date with they both seemed to like shorter, sassier men with a punishing wit. A side of pretty seems to go a long way for both of them as well. 

Harry’s just pulling away from his hug with Michael to see another tall brunette walking in. This one, however, is so strikingly gorgeous that it almost makes Harry feel like putting all his clothes back on and catching the tube home. Harry remembers watching him on season three where he was eliminated early on, but he’s definitely matured a lot since then. He’s svelte and slender, a wavy mess of brown hair on his head, and stubble dusting his cheeks, dressed in simple black jeans and a red crochet top with white flowers on it unbuttoned halfway revealing a white vest underneath. It looks like a smedium on him with the way his rippling muscles are bulging underneath it. Harry’s eyes move down his arms to the butterfly tattoo on his left bicep, traveling over to the guitar drawn of trees on his right forearm, and the bird tattoo on his hand that’s adorned with rings. If he didn’t know it any better, Harry would think this was the ghost of his own youth. 

“Hi! I’m Shawn.” Not British. Interesting. He wonders if Louis has a preference in regards to accents. He reaches out his hand for Michael to shake. 

“So you two know each other?” Shawn gestures to Michael and Harry. 

“Oh, yeah. Met Harry when we both did our follow up interviews during our season.” 

“Harry Styles. Nice to meet you, Shawn.” Harry shakes Shawn’s delicate hand and starts to feel the jealous sting of competition spark in his gut. Shawn is quite beautiful after all and Louis would certainly like him.  

“Nice! Bet it’s nice to see a familiar face in the middle of the sheer insanity that is the fact that we’re all doing this for a second time.” They all chuckle because Shawn is spot on in his observation.

“It is nice, but it definitely doesn’t tamp down the insanity of doing this all over again– for me, anyway.” Harry laughs a bit shakily. 

“No, mate. Not just you, I’m convinced we’re all a bit barking to be doing this again.” Michael adds to the friendly conversation. Well, at least it’s not just Harry feeling a bit nuts doing the show again. Perhaps he’s not the only one with anxiety surrounding it as well, but he’s positive he’s the only one who knows that it’s Louis they’ll be facing today. 

“So have you talked to Taylor lately?” Michael sits down in the chair closest to where Harry is slouched, focused on updating a post to the restaurant’s instagram. 

“Actually, yes”, Harry looks up from his phone after thumbing the post button, turning the screen off, and then immediately forgetting he’s wearing only a dressing gown and there’s no back pocket to shove the device in so he just lays it on the cushion beside him. “We texted just the other night. She’s decided to move back to the states soon. Got some hot shot marketing job over there and I think there’s someone she’s interested in, but she was kind of hush-hush about it.” Harry stopped himself from telling Michael that he got the distinct impression that the person she was talking to wasn’t a guy. He’d never out someone like that, and he wasn’t sure how well Michael knew Taylor. 

“Wow. Good for her! Always knew she’d be someone’s boss someday. Determined look in her eye, that one.” Harry nodded in agreement as the door opened and yet another tall dark headed man with tattoos entered the room. Well, at least Louis doesn’t have a type. Harry laughs at the thought in his head. It’s once the guy turns his face toward where Harry and Michael are sitting that Harry’s grin melts off his face as his stomach seizes and a big fat ‘FUCK THIS’ starts to flash in Harry’s brain. It’s Luke. Harry knows exactly who this prick is. He can’t even believe the show would let him back on after how much of a dickmuffin he was when he didn’t get picked to go on a date during his episode. Luke… that’s a shit name, isn’t it?

If Niall had it his way the guy would’ve ended up on the ‘never again’ list faster than you can say knobhead. Niall had told Harry all about Luke’s ranting and raving about how he was so much better than any of the other choices and how much better looking he was than anyone who had ever been on the show and made an absolute scene before storming off set. Needless to say they had edited a lot of it out for the final cut.

It had embarrassed the picker to no end, but then the poor guy had whispered “Looks like I made the right choice.” Harry had felt so much second hand embarrassment for the guy. Luke was clearly a cocky, arrogant wankface to say the least. Harry hopes to the heavens he doesn’t have to interact with him that much. 

“Well, hello there, gents.” Harry hates the way the words slide off his tongue and the fake nice tone of his voice. He speaks in the slitheriest of ways possible. Snakes can’t talk, but if they could they’d probably sound like Luke. “I reckon you all already know who I am and introductions aren’t really necessary.” Harry can physically feel his blood heating up in his veins at how much he dislikes this guy. And Harry never dislikes people. 

“Actually, I haven’t a clue who you are, mate. I’m Liam.” Liam holds out his hand to shake Luke’s, smirking up at him from his seat. Harry notices how Liam’s eyes cut to him before his attention lands back onto Luke. Liam must have noticed the slight change in Harry’s mood and demeanor since Luke entered the room. He had decided before he came today not to tell the other contestants he was a superfan of the show. First of all, it’s kind of weird to tell someone when you’ve just met them that you’ve already seen them naked, but also he feels like it somehow gives him an edge over them. Seems like Liam may be onto him, though.

“Luke. Although most of my fans call me bad boy Luke on socials. Kind of made a name for myself on my first episode.” It takes all that is within Harry Edward Styles to stifle an eye roll as the words ‘bad boy Luke’ exit the dickhead’s mouth.

Harry notices Shawn standing behind Luke’s back, looking over at all of them and miming jerking off while rolling his eyes. Liam coughs to cover his slight laugh, while Michael just pretends to stretch his arms above his head to hide the huge grin on his face. Harry just stares on, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft grin as he exhales harshly through his nose trying to keep it together. Luke doesn’t seem to notice anything as he crosses to his appointed cubby and starts disrobing. 

Shawn crosses the room, now in his yellow dressing gown, and sits down in one of the chairs next to the laugh stifling trio of men. “I’m sorry. Did he actually call himself ‘bad boy’ Luke?” Shawn whispers to Harry. Harry snickers in response. 

“What a fucking toolbag.” Michael whispers in response.

“Niall said we’d have our hands full with an assclown today and somehow I just assumed it would be the picker and not a contestant.” Shawn whispered as Harry’s head snapped his direction. Niall told Shawn that– and not Harry? Why would he do that? Harry’s his best mate. Is he trying to give Shawn the edge over Harry? What the fuck? 

“Niall– Niall told you that?”

“I– I mean– he just…mentioned it in– passing. Like, when we were– earlier…in the hallway?” Oh, Shawn seemed very nervous. Had Niall told him more or maybe he told him about what he had done for Harry? Fuck. Does Shawn know everything? Was Niall just trying to be protective or something or did he genuinely not want Harry to win the date with Louis? But he’s the one who signed Harry up for this? What the fuck is going on? Harry gets up from his seat and crosses to the refreshment table to grab himself a banana and a bottle of water. Maybe he can prevent the spiral from happening in his head with a mouthful of banana. 

“Oi! Hiya, lads!” A shorter, slightly scrawny ginger with big ears and a mischievous smile enters the room and Harry tries to rein in his face from scrunching into laughter. “Name’s Oli. I guess I’m the last one ‘ere, innit?” The rest of the guys’ eyes go wide with surprise, except for ballsack boy Luke with his stupid face sporting a stupid smirk. Harry snickers to himself. It’s not that Oli’s funny looking, it’s just that every other guy in here is tall, dark, and sickeningly handsome and then there’s…Oli. Did they just run out of men at the emporium of Louis’ type that were willing to subject themselves to this madness again? 

Or maybe Oli is the token ginger for the show. He’s here to cause havoc and drain the souls of the rest of them in order to meet his evil ginger quota. Harry briefly wonders if Oli likes ginger jokes, but then he decides against it because this guy’s already gonna take his fair share of ribbing. Harry hopes he can handle himself. “And before any of you’se fucking say a word about me being the only one who’s not a fucking Adonis in here, fucking save it. Call me a leprechaun or make a fucking ginger joke and I’ll fucking yank your cocks off.” Oli smiles and winks before turning to his cubby and taking out the orange robe. Harry is kind of terrified of him because he thinks Oli actually could rip his dick off. “Fucking hell, did they ‘ave to gimme orange? Fucking sabotage that is, or some shit.” Oli mutters under his breath. “Oi! It’s a fucking meat locker in ‘ere. Do they have to keep it this cold? Me cock’s gonna look like a turtle ‘fraid to come out its shell!” The room fills with laughter, successfully breaking the tension from Oli’s earlier threats. Oli strips his shirt off and throws it in the bottom of the cupboard.

“I guess it kind of is a meat locker if you think about it.” Harry adds walking over to greet Oli properly. Oli chuckles at Harry and slaps him on the back. “M’Harry, by the way.” 

“Cheers, mate.” Oli nods at him and continues undressing as Harry crosses back over to the chairs. Once Oli is fully clad in his robe he walks over to the rest of the guys where introductions are exchanged. Harry doesn’t want to acknowledge how incredibly weird this is. Just a bunch of dudes hanging out in a green room naked, save their rainbow inspired dressing gowns. Just a normal Tuesday. 

Everyone’s making small talk about their jobs and lives to try and distract from how weird it is that their dicks are out, aside from bitter boy Luke, of course, who’s constantly texting on his phone and checking his reflection in the mirror on the wall next to them. What a self obsessed douchenozzel. A minute or so later a loud Irish accent and a door slam cuts through the symphony of chatter. 

“Awwww. Would ya just look at this nearly naked knitting circle. Who brought the butter biscuits with jam?” Everyone laughs at Niall because if you don’t laugh at Niall, you’ve truly lost your humanity. He’s a human sunshine-filled cream pie. He notices a slight nervousness in Niall’s behavior and hopes it isn’t because anyone’s found out what he did for Harry, but then he notices Niall looking in Shawn’s direction before he clears his throat and looks away quickly. He watches on inconspicuously as Shawn smiles shyly, looking down at his own hands. And isn’t that intriguing.

“Oh, I see we have a ginger biscuit that’s slipped in too.” Niall winks at Oli and the rest of the guys wait with baited breath, watching Oli to see how this is gonna play out. Harry mentally does the sign of the cross, praying for Niall’s cock.

“Ni, you utter shitemagnet, how are you, mate?” Oli jumps up and wraps Niall in a hug. “It’s been far t’long since we ‘ad a pint, lad.” Well, apparently Niall is the only one allowed to make ginger jokes. Harry should have known Niall would be best mates with every fucking one of them. Hopefully not with bitchass boy Luke, though.  

“Alright, that’s enough warm and fuzzies, carrot top.” Niall starts handing out papers which Harry recognizes to be a list of the rules. “I know you boys have been through this before but they insist I go through the rules again for ‘liability reasons.’” Niall airquotes. “So just read those over and, if a lawyer happens to ask you, I went through a very descript and detailed explanation of each rule. Got me, you gaggle of Greek Gods…and Oli?” Shawn laughs so hard he has to cover his mouth with his hands to keep the sound in until Oli gives him a death stare. Oli slowly rolls the paper into a ball and throws it in Niall’s face. The other men all give Niall a thumbs up or a nod. 

“Alright. So, just a reminder to follow Anna’s instructions and to remain silent until the voice-reveal round…if you make it that far, obviously. Everybody ready to go meet the potential love of your life?” And no, Harry is definitely not ready. The knot that started earlier in his stomach is just growing and spreading and bouncing around in him like a pinball and his brain feels swimmy and his eyes are begging to flood themselves at any minute. Yeah, he’s great, actually. Let’s do this. Ya-fucking-hoo.

The other guys all rise from their seats and start to file out of the room with Niall following behind them. Harry watches him do a final headcount and then realize that Harry’s still sitting in the chair, unable to stand. “I’ll be right there, fellas, just down that hall and to the left.” Harry’s anxiety has been building the whole day and there’s only so many deep breathing and calming exercises he can perform silently and in his own head until the dam breaks and his body is flooded with panic. 

“Hey. You coming, Haz? This is your big moment, yeah?” Harry looks up at Niall, vaguely feeling his eyes as big as saucers and his lips pressing into a thin line. He’s gonna puke all over this pretty blue robe. “Oh, yikes. That was the wrong thing to say.” Niall takes a seat next to Harry. “Hey. Remember what your mantra is for today? Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.” Harry looks down at his lap and the barely eaten banana lying there.

“Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.” Harry repeats it, but in a hushed whisper as if he can’t find his voice right now. “But why does it feel like there’s everything to prove and everything to lose, Ni? What if he– what if he doesn’t like me?” Harry starts to feel the tears wetting the rims of his eyes. He brings the belt of the robe up to dab at them. 

“Then he’s a fucking idiot and I won’t have a fucking idiot dating my best mate, anyway.” Harry laughs breathily, but when he looks at Niall’s face all he finds is reassurance and sincerity. He knows that Niall values him so much and if a lovely human like Niall genuinely thinks that much of him, then maybe there really is nothing to lose here. Maybe as long as Niall is here to help him mend his broken heart afterwards, he’ll be alright. Now if only Harry could feel like he doesn’t have to sell it to Louis that he’s worthy of him and worthy of loving him the way Louis truly deserves. “Now, take a deep breath and feel the empowerment radiating from your massive cock and perfectly groomed balls, and let's go get your man!”

Harry sets his jaw, grinding his teeth slightly. “Alright. Let’s fucking go then.” Niall fist pumps in the air and jumps up from the chair to head towards the greenroom door. Harry rises from his seat and tosses the banana in the bin, laying eyes on the door that seems impossible to walk through. He wants to do this. He wants to meet Louis, he does, but right now the happiness he’d felt when he’d agreed to do this is overshadowed by his uncertainty. As he crosses the room toward the door, it feels like the room narrows and the distance to the door keeps stretching. After what feels like ages and 10,000 steps, he reaches the drab gray door and reaches for the handle, his hand shaking and hovering slightly over the knob. Harry takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

He whispers to himself ‘Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.’ as he exhales audibly and forces himself to grasp the cold metal under his warm palm and pulls the door open slowly, stepping through to the other side where the perfect man with an entire sea of waves in his gaze awaits him. 

“Well, I’m glad that wasn’t dramatic as fuck.” Niall says, whistling loudly, trudging through the doorway, trailing behind as Harry laughs, shaking the tension out as he continues towards what he hopes is his happy future. 

🍑L 🍑

“If you don’t sit down and stop pacing this goddamn room I’m going to be forced to tie you to the chair.” Louis’ neck snaps to Zayn’s annoyingly handsome face, eyes narrowing in a fiery glare at him before his lips spread into a grin. 

“Nice try, but I’m not really into that.” Louis winks playfully, continuing his pacing.

“Seriously, Lou, the whole thing is in your hands. What do you have to be nervous about?” 

“I don’t know just– going on TV again?” Louis lies through his teeth. He knows exactly what he’s nervous about.

“No way. I know you better than that, mate. You can turn the charm on like that,” Zayn snaps his fingers, “and have anyone with eyes and ears eating out of the palm of your hand. Try again.”

“Ummm– maybe it’s the getting naked thing?” Nope. He’s a lying liar who lies. He gives zero fucks about people seeing his cock and what he knows is the perfect arse. Now whether or not he’s going to be able to convince Zayn of some cockamamie explanation for why he’s nervous, is an entirely different story.

“Lou, I have seen you arse-naked at least a billion times and so have several of my one night stands and you never even batted one of your gorgeous eyelashes at it, so no way that’s it.” Zayn looks up at him from his chair in a calculating manner, arched eyebrow raised. “Wanna know what I think it is?”

“No. No, I don’t.” He really doesn’t and it’s because he knows Zayn’s probably right on the money. Louis crosses the room to the kettle, readying himself a cuppa to pass the time.

“Great, well, I’ll be telling you anyway, as you already know. I think you’re nervous because he could be out there.”

“He, who?” 

“He, your soulmate, that’s who.” Louis whips around, the expression on his face is a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. 

“Zayn. You know I don’t believe in that romantic Hallmark movie mumbo-jumbo bullshit. It’s for fairytales and rom-coms. Real people just meet someone they like at work or at the market or–”

“Or on Naked Attraction?” Zayn’s shit eating grin has Louis rolling his eyes and giving Zayn a look so sarcastic you can actually hear its tone.

“You know what I mean, though, mate. People just meet someone they like and then they go to dinner together and sometimes they end up finding someone they can tolerate for longer than a couple of dates. Sometimes they find someone they can tolerate for months or even years so they stick it out and sometimes they get a place together and some plants or a pet or something.” Louis crosses back over to where Zayn is sitting, sipping his tea as he travels. “Now, how the whole marriage and babies and matching Christmas pajamas and picking out towel sets for the guest room and cheesy shit like that happens, I have no idea. But I don’t think there are magical forces bringing people together like fucking Cupid or some shit.” Zayn sighs deeply and drops his head with an amused laugh. “Do you really think there are people walking around out here missing a piece of themselves because another person was made to fit them?” Louis sets his tea on the small coffee table in front of Zayn. 

“You said yourself that you have a good feeling about today. What if that’s it? What if he’s your good feeling?” 

Zayn’s response strikes him dumb for some reason. He considers carefully what to say in response before opening his mouth. “If I’m being honest, Zayn, I’m actually more nervous that he isn’t out there.” Louis sighs and wraps his arms around himself, feeling small at the admission.

“Oh– Oh, Louis.” Zayn jumps up and pulls Louis into a comforting embrace.  

Louis stays in Zayn’s arms because this confession will be much easier without Zayn’s eyes on him. “The thing is, Z,” Louis turns his head to the side so it’s resting on Zayn’s shoulder. “I sound like a fucking prick and I know it. I act cynical and I do a good job of playing my part. I scoff at matching Christmas jumpers and guest room towels and the cheesy shit people do when they’re so in love, but it’s because I don’t think I’ll ever have that–” Louis shakes his head as if he can somehow shake off the tears that are threatening to escape. “But I want it. Blake– I loved him and I think I wanted that with him at some point, but– after a while…I mean, when he started– treating me the way he did…I didn’t anymore. And it’s ok, I’m over him and I’m past what happened, but I think that maybe it was easier to be cynical about love than to let myself be open to it again.” 

“You can still have it, Lou. You deserve it and you deserve someone who wants to give it to you.” Zayn pulls back from him and places his hands on Louis’ shoulders, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over the tops of Louis’ biceps.

“He would have picked ugly guest room towels anyway.” Louis shakes his head, laughing off the seriousness of the moment.

“Let’s go get you a man with some taste, then.” Zayn winks and hugs Louis as tightly as his slender frame can manage. They hear the knock on the door just as they’re pulling apart after the marathon hug. “I think that means it’s time.” 

Louis approaches the door and stares it down. Come on, Tommo, you can do this. 

Nothing to prove, nothing to lose. 

Niall’s words run through his mind and give him the last little push he needs to propel himself through the door. He grips the handle and turns it, opening the door and looking through to the other side. As he starts to step through, a wave of uncertainty hits just before he feels the switch flip inside him and, suddenly, the confident, effervescent, buoyant, comedic, always smiling and attractive Louis takes over. He beams a smug smile at Zayn and turns towards the studio, the production staff, and the six naked willies waiting for his judgment. 

🍆H 🍆

“Welcome to Naked Attraction, the show that does window shopping like you’ve never seen before. Inside each of these six pods I’ve lined up a brave singleton standing completely in the buff and, in this very special edition of Naked Attraction, each of these singletons has been here before, either as a contestant or a picker. Sadly, their first time on the show didn’t work out, so they’re all back to give it another go in the name of nudity and hope! Only one of them will be picked to go on a date. But who’s doing the choosing?” 

Harry hears Anna recording her intro speech with enthusiasm and practiced ease. It’s still so funny to him how professional she sounds when, ultimately, this is a show where complete nutters are getting naked for the masses to see. The next thing Harry hears nearly makes him jump out of his own skin. His heart starts pounding at the light scratchy sound of it. It’s Louis’ voice. 

“Oi oi, I’m Louis! I’m twenty-five, I’m from Doncaster and I’m baaaaack.” Harry giggles. Oh fuck he’s already a goner. “You may remember me as the idiot who came on the show on a dare from back in season one. I did get picked on my episode but, sadly, it didn’t work out and I think all of Instagram and TikTok and every other form of social media out there knows why that is. Why did I decide to come back on Naked Attraction, you ask? You lot ruined my dating life.” Louis laughs and the airy ringing of it is enough to make Harry want to burst out of this stupid pod like a naked lady out of a birthday cake and hump his leg like a dog in heat. “There’s been a lot of attention from people coming into my bar, which I own now, by the way…and they all just really want something from me. Whether it’s fifteen minutes of fame or to share something private about me for views or likes, they don’t really want a relationship with me.” Harry’s face falls at the sound of the slightly sad tone of Louis’ voice. He knows this is all the prerecorded portion of the show that they’re just playing back so the contestants can hear it. He wonders what footage they got of Louis to play during the introduction bit. He’s distracting himself from the fact that Louis is somewhere in the studio with Harry and all Harry wants to do is find him and give him a nice long cuddle until the unpleasant memories of all the arseholes who were just out to use him fly far away. “So, I’m back to let you wankers redeem yourselves and find me a man who actually wants a genuine connection with someone like me.” 

Louis is so endearing Harry could melt right here in this hideous blue pod and they probably wouldn’t even notice, considering the color. It’s nothing like the blue of Louis’ eyes, Harry thinks. No blue is like Louis blue. Harry can’t believe he’s about to see that perfect shade again in just minutes. Reel it in, H, we’ve got a ways to go here, bub.  

“Louis, it’s so good to see you again!” Oh god, oh god, oh god, he’s right there on the other side of the screen and Harry’s going to throw up.

“Thanks, love. It’s so lovely to be back.” 

Oh god, this isn’t real. There’s no way this is fucking real. 

“So Louis, your first time on the show. We all know and saw what happened, but now you’re on the other side of things. How does that feel?” 

“You know, I like that the power is all mine this time around. I like that it’s all in my hands.”  

And what lovely hands they are.  

Goddamn it, Harry’s never going to make it out of this without either getting a very inconvenient erection or without saying something completely inappropriate when he finally meets Louis. Why did he agree to do this? What kind of fucking idiot is he? Oh yeah, the kind of idiot who’s been pining away over a stranger for years and now has the opportunity to meet the object of his very sad, sad pining affection and he’s going to totally fucking blow it. Well, at least he’s pinpointed his particular brand of lunacy and stupidity.

“Fair enough. Are you a big fan of the show, Louis?” Ohhhh, Anna, you sneaky sneak. Harry knows exactly where she’s going with this.

“No, actually. I’ve never seen any episode at all other than my own.” 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT!?!?!?!?!

“Really? That is fascinating. So that means you won’t recognize any of the gentlemen we’ve picked for you. You’re going into this blind, then.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time, Anna.” Oh, he would almost lay money on it that Louis winked after he said that. It’s not weird at all that Harry knows that, right? IT’S TOTALLY NOT WEIRD, RIGHT?!?!

“Well, then. Shall we look at some naked men?” Anna’s cheeky tone of voice doesn’t ease Harry’s anxiety at all. Louis is about to get an eyeful of Harry’s cock and he’s never second guessed his own choices in life as much as he is this particular choice in this particular moment.

“Oh!” Louis’s little chuckle goes straight to Harry’s cock. OF ALL TIMES, NOT NOW. “Might as well while we’re here, yeah?” Harry closes his eyes, looking up to the ceiling. God, if you’re up there, please send a well aimed lightning bolt or a rain of fire or some sort of devastating weather event to get me out of this blue pod!

“Well, to make this official, Louis, in front of you, you have six colored pods. Inside each of them is a naked man, each of whom has a physical attribute you’ve told us you find physically attractive. We’re going to reveal them bit by bit and all you’ve got to do is whittle them down from six to one using naked attraction alone.” 

“Anna, I think we’re way past needing to be official here. Just show me the genitals.” Louis and Anna both laugh. Cheeky fucker. Harry wants to eat him.

“Well without further ado, can we reveal the lower half of the singletons, please?” 

Harry takes the deepest fucking breath of his life as the blue screen in front of him starts to raise itself slowly. He wonders where Louis’ eyes are traveling to in this moment. Is he looking at him right now? Is he looking at one of the other gorgeous, tall drinks of water? Is he looking at Oli? All of a sudden there’s this burning feeling inside of him. It’s this weird tense ‘tongue caught in your throat’ type feeling, where everything is seemingly suspended in the air including the seconds ticking by. Louis is looking at Harry. That’s the only explanation for it. How can Harry feel Louis looking at him? He really needs to figure out a scientific explanation for this. It’s probably just his pulse spiking that’s causing it. Maybe just the beginnings of a panic attack? His breathing feels somewhat normal, but who knows, those things can hit out of nowhere. Perhaps he was drugged before coming out here? What kind of sick prick would do that before a person films a show for the masses, though? Whatever this feeling is, it’s strange and overwhelming and Harry oddly wants nothing more than to keep feeling it every second for the rest of his life. 

“Well, Louis, how are we feeling?”

“Anna, I’ve got six cocks staring me directly in the eye. How do you think I’m feeling?” The two laugh together as if they were old friends. Harry’s slightly envious of anyone who gets to laugh with Louis like that.

“Ok, let’s go with a more direct approach. Is there anyone you want to take a closer look at?” Please don’t say blue please don’t say blue please don’t say blue.

“Yeah, let’s go with red.” Harry sighs inaudibly. He had been silently willing Louis not to pick him and yet he’s disappointed that Louis picked Liam, somehow. Honestly, what is his problem? 

“Now, Louis, this one is a nice size, don’t you think?”

“Anna, that thing is a monster. Like– that’s a huge fucking cock if I’ve ever seen one. I’m terrified just looking at it.” Harry did steal a couple of glances at the competition and Harry also remembers from Liam’s episode that he is massive. Louis is absolutely correct, Liam has the hugest cock he’s ever seen. It is quite scary and that’s coming from someone who’s definitely above average in the dick department. 

“So, you’re not a big fan of a large penis, then?”

“It’s not that I’m not a fan, I’m just afraid it’s going to rearrange my insides or something?” Oh, so Louis likes to bottom. Noted. “He’s got nice legs though, good feet too.” 

“Green looks above average, at least. Nice muscular legs as well. He looks like he takes care of his body.” Harry gags in his mind hearing Louis talk about Luke in any kind of positive way. Harry knows Luke is attractive physically, but Harry knowing what he’s actually like on the inside makes him uglier than ugly to Harry. Beauty is only skin deep, even if he is standing on set filming a show that entertains the masses based solely on beauty. Not to whip out the measuring tape or anything but Harry does smile to himself wickedly, knowing he’s got at least a couple of inches on Luke.

“How do you feel about balls, Louis?” 

“Right in for the kill with the hard hitting genitalia questions, Anna. I don’t really care about balls. Does anyone actually care about the size or look of someone’s balls? Is that actually a preference? Actually, don’t answer that, because I’m sure it is to someone somewhere.” 

“Louis, one thing about this job is that it keeps me on my toes with people’s likes and dislikes.”

“You must be quite the ballerina at this point then.” Anna chuckles and Harry giggles internally. Christ, keeping silent while Louis is being Louis is going to be really fucking difficult. 

“Shall we move on then?” Anna suggests. “Where shall we go next?” 

“Well there is one that struck me right away. Caught my eye from the moment the screen raised. I’d like to check out…” Please say blue please say blue please say blue. “Blue.”

“Very well then.” Harry can hear the shuffling of their feet and the rustling of the clothes on their bodies nearing him. “So what caught your eye about blue then, Louis?”

“Dunno, really?” Oh God, Louis is going to talk about him now and he’s going to pass away. He was not ready for this. “His shapely legs, maybe. Also that tiger on the thigh is interesting. And those vines or leaves or whatever they are framing his hips? Oh, and his nails are painted.” Harry starts to feel slightly self conscious. He knows some guys aren’t into that. “Light blue, it looks like with little red hearts? Just lovely.” Lovely. Harry is melting like ice cream. “Is that–?” Oh god, oh no, what’s he looking at now? Not being able to see where his eyes are on Harry’s body is positively maddening. THIS IS TORTURE. “He’s got the word ‘BIG’ tattooed on his big toe.” Louis laughs and claps his hands. Oh my God, Harry would feel embarrassed by the stupidity of that tattoo if it hadn’t made Louis laugh like that. “That’s hilarious, I love it. Oh, is that an anchor on the left wrist? That’s– that’s interesting.” Oh shit, he saw it. Not that Harry thought he would miss it, but maybe he hasn’t made the connection quite yet?

“Why is that interesting, Louis?” 

“Well, because I’ve got a rope right here, around my right wrist and his anchor doesn’t have a rope.” Of course he made the connection. God, Harry really is an idiot.

“What a coincidence!” 

Yeah, except it’s not a coincidence considering Harry got that tattoo specifically to complement Louis’ rope. How is he ever going to explain that to Louis if he gets picked? He hasn’t thought this through at ALL. ‘Oh, a lot of people have anchor tattoos.’ Granted, he didn’t think he’d ever be in this position to have to explain it so publicly. Hopefully Louis lets it go and forgets about it as soon as this is over. 

“Louis, are we not going to talk about the elephant trunk in the room?” OH THANK YOU, ANNA, YOU GODDESS. 

“Anna, that was terrible. Simply terrible. A for effort though.”

“Well, you’re the one who said you didn’t like a ‘monster cock'?” Harry sort of chuckles at the tone of Anna’s voice, his abs contracting with the silent laughter. Don’t ask him how but he can feel Louis’ eyes hone in on them. 

“Honestly, though, this one doesn’t strike me as a monster. It’s kind of pretty?” PRETTY. Harry feels like he’s doing pirouettes on a cloud right now. “Maybe, if we’re comparing them all to mythical creatures, this one would be like– a unicorn!” Anna practically guffaws at Louis’ words. “Strangely enough the size doesn’t scare me. It’s not quite as big as red’s, nice shape, like the proportion of the foreskin. It’s quite– perfect, really.” Harry’s going to cry. He’s never cried over someone complimenting his cock before and yet here he is holding back tears over Louis saying he has a magical unicorn penis. It should be written into a sonnet, really. 

“Perfect. WOW. Did you hear that, Blue?” Harry shoots a thumbs up. “Well done, you. I guess we can all go home now.” Anna laughs nervously. “Alright, Louis, better move on to the other guys before you two get betrothed right here. Tell me how you feel about a circumcised penis, because as you can see yellow…” Harry sort of tunes out the rest of what Anna is saying because he’s on cloud-FUCKING-nine right now and words don’t make sense anyway. Louis called his cock perfect. And the things he said about his tattoos, he laughed at Harry’s stupid joke of a toe tattoo and called his nails lovely . Christ almighty, he could leave the stage right now, get hit by a speeding rubbish truck as soon as he exits the building, and still die a happy man. He’s basking in his own glorious feeling of bliss when Louis’ words bring him out of his happy stupor.

“I don’t really know my way around a cut cock, but I’m sure I could learn as long as yellow would afford me a learning curve?” 

“Ahhh that’s a thumbs up from yellow then on the circumcised pleasure lessons.” 

“Nice one. I get the feeling he’s a sweetheart. Really soft tattoos. Gentle stance. I bet he has a pretty face too.” Well, Louis is spot on there. 

“You know, I really am an arse man. I’d love to see their bums if I could?” Well, fuck, this was the only thing Harry was worried about. He doesn’t have the voluptuous bums that some guys do. He knows for sure that Michael’s got a better bum than him. 

“Absolutely! Gentlemen, could you turn around so Louis can see your,” she mockingly clears her throat. “... assets?” 

Louis whistles. “There are some lovely bums in this group. Mmmm.” Harry’s brain shrieks inside his skull. 

I’M SORRY, DID HE JUST HALF MOAN?!?!?! 

“Oh, pink’s got a nice bum.” Anna observes. 

“That one is quite juicy. Am I allowed to revisit blue?” Harry nearly drops to his knees and presents himself to Louis. 

“Of course, Louis. You’re the boss! What do you like about his bum?” 

“It’s the perfect size for me really. Looks muscular and the skin is smooth, I don’t like a whole lot of jiggle on a bum. Nice round little perky arse. That’s what I like. A handful.” 

DID. HE. SAY. A. HANDFUL? FUCK. HIM. FOR. THAT.

“Oh, green’s giving a little wiggle over here, Louis, shall we go have a closer look at him?” Harry can tell that Anna’s doing her best to lure him away from Harry again. Apparently she’s caught on to the connection they’re both clearly experiencing. 

“Alright, Louis. We have to say goodbye to someone this round before we move on to the next set of reveals. Who’s it going to be?”

“This is SUCH a hard decision. Can’t I keep them all?” Harry bets Louis is looking at her like a kitten, pouting his lips and tilting his head. How Anna could even manage to say no to that, he has no idea. 

“Gotta lose one, babe. Sorry.” 

“Gonna have to be…red.” 

“Red, why??? Is it the intimidating size?” 

“I’m afraid he’d pierce my brain with his massive manhood.” Anna and Louis both laugh. 

“You’ve missed out on Liam, a twenty-five year old human resources manager from Wolverhampton.” Harry can hear the whirring of the motor as Liam’s red partition raises up the entire length of the pod.

“Oh no! He’s so handsome. Lovely smile. Christ, why do I have to be afraid of his willy?” Louis laughs to himself. Harry cannot stop laughing at his cheek and his little one-liners. Louis has such a vibe to him. Harry already feels so at ease with him and they haven’t even spoken properly yet. How is he already this smitten with someone he’s been in a room with for only minutes? This is some soulmate shit, for sure.

“I’m so sorry, Liam. If it’s any consolation, my best friend Zayn is waiting for me backstage– Hi, Z! …and I guarantee you he would absolutely love you and he’s basically the most gorgeous human I’ve ever seen…so far anyway. Might be a date for you tonight yet, mate.” Harry tries not to fond at how thoughtful of a gesture it is for Louis to do that. Spoiler alert: he fails. 

“Thanks, mate. Best of luck to you!” Hopefully they didn’t do that awkward naked hugging thing Harry’s seen so many times on the show before. It’s really uncomfortable for everyone involved, he thinks.

“Alright, Louis. Are we ready to move on? See everyone’s mid section?” 

“I’m ready for tits and abs. We go on go!” Anna laughs again as Harry tries not to allow his smile to crack his face into bits starting with his dimples. The blue partition starts to move again and Harry just stands proudly and excitedly awaiting Louis’ thoughts. 

“Oh FUCK me, blue does not have a butterfly on his belly. What in the most-attractive-tattoos-I’ve-ever-seen is that?” Harry has to cover his mouth to keep from giggling out loud. He can’t help it and Louis can’t seem to either. He’s waiting minute by minute for Anna to scold Louis for showing so much attention to Harry, but she seems to be letting it unfold. “He’s got birds on his chest too. Those are sweet. Are– are those extra nipples?” Harry gives a thumbs up. “Wow. Double the fun, then.” Louis clears his throat. “Oh, I can see his hair brushing his collarbones. He’s got– long, curly hair.” Louis clears his throat. “Good lad. Nice little body.” Harry can tell Louis desperately wants to say more but he’s holding himself back.

“Louis, has blue rendered you speechless?” 

“I really like curls, s’all.” Harry can hear his voice cracking slightly. It makes his tummy tremble, the sound of it. Jesus, he really is Louis’ type, then. Niall wasn’t just fucking with him. “Green’s got really nice abs. Let’s take a look, yeah?” Harry frowns at Louis’ sudden shift of his attention to Luke. Fuck that guy. Harry just wants to yell, ‘DON’T PICK HIM. HE SUCKS.’ but he definitely doesn’t want to be disqualified from the date with Louis. 

“So, Louis, talk to me about the chest area. Are you into pecs?”

“Yeah, I like a well defined chest. Green seems to have a very rigorous workout routine. He’s really sculpted. S’nice. I play a bit of footie so I like a man who can keep up with me on the pitch. I like his artwork on his bicep too.” Harry grimaces a bit at the football comment. Harry knows how much Louis loves it but unfortunately Harry also knows how very terrible he, himself, is at it.

“Oh, he’s flexing for you, Louis. This one clearly likes the attention.” Anna says as Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes. They have no idea how much this one likes the attention.

“Yeah, I rather like the confidence.”

“Let’s go have a look at pink, shall we?”

“Really delicate skin on pink. Reminds me of milk. Nice tattoos on him as well. He’s a bit more lean than I would have thought with his broad frame. He’s quite hairy too.” 

“Oh yes, we haven’t talked about body hair much, do you like body hair?” Anna sounds like a shark smelling blood in the water when she’s asking these questions. 

“I don’t mind it either way, honestly. I like for a man to do some grooming, but he doesn’t have to be clean shaven because I’m definitely not.” Louis is so diplomatic with some of his answers. Harry can’t tell if he’s afraid to say exactly what he wants or if he just doesn’t want to hurt anyone else’s feelings. 

“So, on that note let’s go take a look at orange because he seems to be the only ginger here. And the only gent who is…a bit vertically challenged.” Harry laughs to himself, imagining Oli taking an annoyed stance with his hands on his hips. 

“Watch it, now. You’ll give ‘im a complex! He’s not even that short just, in comparison, these other guys are giants. He’s also quite cheeky, clearly, and I like that. I like a guy I can have a laugh with. And we don’t have to kick him simply because he’s a ginger, Anna, Jesus.” Harry almost can’t hold in the laugh that wants to explode out of him. He needs it to get to the voice reveal part of the show quickly or he’s going to lose on a technicality. 

“You’re ok with him being shorter, then?” Oop, she’s circling her prey again.

“Oh, Anna. Sometimes it seems as if you’re trying to goad me into saying something wrong. Am I not dramatic enough on my own to keep your viewers entertained?” Harry hopes the entire blue pod isn’t shaking with his laughter. 

“Louis, darling, you’re onto me.” 

“Alright, so, Louis, based on appearance alone, who are we eliminating this round?”

“We? Have you got a mouse in your pocket? Last I checked you aren’t helping me make the difficult decision between these lovely men, Anna.”

“Louis, I think the crew might just keep you on staff when this is over simply to keep my ego in check.” Harry thinks this already has to be one of the best episodes ever filmed based on the banter between Louis and Anna alone. Louis’ wit is definitely making her earn her paycheck.

“Alright, so who are YOU saying goodbye to this time, Louis?”

“I’m so sad to say it’s going to be pink.”

“Pink. Wow, ok. May I ask what it was?”

“Just a tiny bit too hairy for my taste?” Louis phrases it like a question as if he wants to soften the blow. Harry can tell Louis doesn’t like getting rid of people for their appearance. All the more reason to be obsessed with him. 

“Well, then. We’ll be bidding farewell to Michael. He’s twenty-three and he’s a club DJ originally from County Durham.”

“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous. Of course he is. And I was right about his skin, it’s so perfect!” 

Harry really likes Michael but listening to Louis compliment him makes Harry want to throw things in his general direction. On a brighter note, at least he’s made it to the face reveal round and he gets to see Louis’ face in just a moment! EEEEEEEEEKKKKKK. A whirlpool of doubt and dread floods his brain as Louis and Michael say their goodbyes and exchange their customary ‘good lucks’. It’s a fine line between an excited ‘Oh God, I’m about to see Louis!’ and an anxious ‘OH GOD, I’m about to see Louis.’ 

“Ok, Louis. It’s time. Are you ready for the face reveal round? Keep in mind that not only will you be seeing their faces for the first time, but they’ll also be seeing yours.” 

YES, ANNA, HARRY IS VERY MUCH AWARE OF THIS, THANK YOU BYE.

“Yes, I’m very excited to see some beautiful smiles and lovely eyes.” Louis’ voice is a tiny bit shaky. He’s nervous. Harry doubts the other contestants would have picked up on the difference in Louis’ tone, but he’s well practiced in the art of deciphering Louis. He’s never been as happy that someone else besides him was nervous as he is right now, simply because it means that he and Louis are in this together.

Harry steadies himself and takes a deep breath, placing his hand on his chest to give himself some sense of his center. This is a big deal to him. He and Louis are going to make it through this together, he thinks. He closes his eyes and begins to chant in his mind ‘We’ll be alright, we’ll be alright, we’ll be alright’.

“Let’s see the faces of our potential dates for Louis, please.” Anna’s voice is the last thing Harry hears before he opens his eyes, drops his hands back down to his side and looks dead ahead as the cloudy blue partition raises, his eyes adjust to the bright stage lights and he sees those familiar blues lock onto him and that handsome face slide into an easy smirk.

Chapter Text

Part III: Their eyes meet

🍑L 🍑

Of course he’s fucking gorgeous. Louis had tried and failed and tried and failed again to keep his attention off the man in the blue box. Hopefully the show can edit out some of the mooning Louis was doing over the lad, but Jesus Christ, his body was captivating. He was long and lean and muscular in all the right places, and yet soft and fleshy in others. Louis wanted to get his hands on him, trace his tattoos with his tongue, and watch his body melt under Louis’ touch. 

There was just something about him that had captured Louis and he couldn’t take his eyes off him. And this is coming from a man who had five other cocks and arses and sets of strong legs in front of his face. It’s not like he didn’t notice the other guys either. The guy in the green pod was really athletically built and seemed to have an air of cockiness that Louis tended to like in a man. And yellow too. Yellow seemed like the kind of guy who would always be up for a cuddle and a cuppa. And until now, Louis had decided all of this just from studying their bodies from the neck down. But there was something about that man in the blue box…

Louis gives himself a moment to take in the absolute work of art in front of him. His hair is long, a deep coffee color, pushed off his forehead in a sort of a pompadour cascading down into his chocolate ringlets. Creamy skin graced with a well placed mole here and there, the most prominent one just off the corner of his mouth. His jawline is so squared and strong that it cuts through the softness of the curls framed around it. That mouth. Holy fuck, that mouth is made of pleasure. His lips are the rosiest of pinks, slightly pursed and protruding out from his teeth. They look like they’re in a constant state of waiting to be kissed and licked. OH, JESUS FUCK. 

HE. HAS. DIMPLES. STOP EVERYTHING, NO ONE TOUCH HIM. IN FACT, DON’T EVER EVEN SPEAK TO HIM AGAIN.

Louis continues drinking in each feature but his eyes always journey back to meet the other man’s. From the distance he can’t quite tell if they’re green or if they’re blue. Fuck, he sounds like an Elton John song. Either way, he’s certain Mr. Blue’s light eyes are stunning. He hopes Anna grants him a little bit of reprieve and lets him approach the man up close to get a better look because for whatever reason, Louis just knows he needs to take in those eyes up close.

“Louis? Earth to Louis, can you read us?” Oh fuck, he was so lost in his thoughts he has no idea how long Anna was trying to get his attention. 

Louis clears his throat which feels very dry all of a sudden. “Good, Anna. Very good.” Louis reaches up to nervously card his fingers through his fringe but then he remembers that Zayn had done what Louis called a swirly quiff thing for him earlier so he just sort of swipes his naked forehead, so he’s certain he looks like a complete knob right now. “I’m sorry. What was the question?” Louis laughs out nervously.

“Oh, Louis. Are you blushing? Have these gents’ faces successfully scrambled your brains?”

“Well, in my defense, you all picked some absolutely lovely looking lads for me. I mean– these guys could be models.” His eyes then land on the ginger in the orange pod who looks– well, he looks like he and Louis could be best mates is what he looks like. Louis doesn’t much fancy gingers, he doesn’t really not fancy them either, but he’d never say that in front of the bloke or on television. He’s not here to humiliate anyone OR to make them feel insecure about their looks. And truthfully, he’d had more pressing reasons to get rid of Liam and Michael and Mr. Orange hasn’t really given him a reason yet. Louis doesn’t mind at all that he’s such a departure from the other candidates. In fact, Louis quite likes that he’s different from his usual type and he just looks like he’d be a right laugh. “I also have to admit that my mind was wondering if they like what they see as well.” He catches Mr. Blue nodding out of the corner of his eye, good to know, Louis thinks as he trains his eyes on one of the other lads to avoid looking straight back at him and winking like the flirt he wants to be. He notices Mr. Confidence over in the green box give a positive gesture as well and he can’t help but feel a bit chuffed about it. He’s clearly a gorgeous man. Dark hair, striking features, gorgeous body. What’s not to like about a man that looks like that giving Louis positive feedback about his own appearance? But his mind and his eyes can’t help but travel back to the right where Mr. Blue is shaking out his hair and pushing it back off his forehead. He grins at the eye contact from Louis, scrunching his nose slightly. Louis wonders if he’s trying to hide how pleased he is as well. 

“Well, it looks like everyone seems pleased with you, Louis. Shall we walk down the line and take a closer look?” 

Louis stops himself from making a beeline over to the blue box and instead follows Anna over to the green box. “Green is definitely my ideal type, Anna, I have to say. I usually go for very tall, statuesque, well built men, so he’s right up my alley. Nice full lips, like his facial hair, and he has GREAT eyebrows.”

“You like an expressive brow then?”

“I do. I love a man who can just level me with an eyebrow raise. I’m pretty sassy and I think I need someone who can put me in my place sometimes. Give as well as take.” Louis cuts eyes to the right just to get Mr. Blue’s reaction and is pleased to find he’s arching an eyebrow while wickedly smirking in Louis’ direction before he licks his lips. Louis stifles the giggle bubbling up from inside in response to the devilish expression slinking across that perfect face. Anna seems to notice the exchange and just chuckles at the innuendo filling the small space between Louis and Mr. Blue.

“Ok, so what do you think of Yellow’s face. Quite nice, yes?” And yes, he does have a nice face, there’s no denying it. He also looks quite young. 

“He is quite handsome, yes. Love the curls too. Very endearing smile on him.” They continue walking past the yellow box to where Louis really wants to be. 

“So, Blue is cute, isn’t he?” Anna’s smile indicates she very much knows Louis’ secret.

“Cute, Anna? Really?” Louis notices how Mr. Blue’s expression momentarily falls. “More like beautiful. Stunning, really.” Louis delights himself in the way that Blue’s expression morphs into sheer joy and his whole face brightens at Louis’ praise. Louis squints at him. “So they are green, then? Mmmm.” Mr. Blue’s cheek dimples so quickly that Louis practically heard the notch carve into his face. The color that blooms over Mr. Blue’s face under Louis’ attention has Louis’ belly fluttering in excitement. The attraction is definitely mutual here and Louis couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. Anna’s clearly noticed, in fact, Louis thinks she’ll probably offer to officiate the wedding any minute now. 

“Shall we move on to Orange?” Anna kind of has to pull Louis’ elbow to get him to move or else he’d stand there in front of the blue pod and stare at the emerald-eyed angel all day. 

Mr. Orange gives the finger guns as they approach. “Orange just looks like a fun time. I imagine he’d be so fun to spend time with. Like, he seems like the type of lad I could go to the local with and just crush a few pints.” The redhead immediately starts nodding, dancing obnoxiously, and fist pumping. Yeah, definitely no sparks here.

“And what about his looks? Are you attracted to him?” Anna raises her eyebrows. Here she fucking goes again. Louis knows it’s her job to poke and prod a bit to get the more controversial opinions out of the pickers, but he’s not fucking falling for it.

“He’s got a great smile and kind eyes. I think he looks quite fetching.” Mr. Orange blows him a kiss and Louis belly laughs. Yeah, he’s definitely going to be mates with this guy, he can tell. 

“Ok, Louis. We’ve come to the end of the face reveal round and it’s time to make your decision.” 

“UGH. You keep doing this to me, Anna. And it’s even harder now, because these four gents give some excellent head.” Louis adds a wink for good measure. He loves the fact that this show is just an excuse to make all the innuendos and genitalia jokes in the world. Who doesn’t love a fucking dick joke, after all? “Well, if I have to choose. I’m going to have to say so long to Yellow.” 

“YELLOW?” Anna almost yells. Clearly she’s surprised with his choice. He doesn’t blame her Mr. Yellow is quite entrancing, but Louis thinks he might just be a bit too timid and too beautiful for him. 

“Yes, yellow. I just– I think he’s a bit younger than I’m used to. I feel like I’d be corrupting him or something. He looks so innocent.” 

“Oh, you’re afraid you’d ruin him? Mmmm. Well, I guess you won’t be ruining Shawn, twenty-one years old, and an actor from Pickering, Canada. Come on down, Shawn, and say goodbye.”

The gangly boy steps down from the yellow box and heads toward them with the most blindingly sweet smile Louis has ever seen. Yes, he’s way too much of a porcelain doll for Louis. 

Louis shakes his hand, placing an arm around his naked shoulders. These fucking awkward side hugs this show has forced him into. 

“M’so sorry for not picking you, Shawn. I think you’re really lovely, I promise.” 

“Oh, it’s totally fine, man. Think I’m going to go get myself a consolation date anyway.” Shawn looks behind the camera and winks in someone’s direction. Is he– Was he winking at– NIALL? Holy fuckballs, that’s fucking amazing, but Louis hides his excitement, wiping the joyful expression off of his face in favor of a kind but timid smile. 

“OHHH. He had a back up plan ready to go. I quite like that initiative! Well done, Shawn, off you go then!” Louis flinches slightly at Anna calling Niall a back-up plan but then he reasons to himself that she probably had no idea who Shawn was talking about and clearly nothing is off limits for her jokes. Shawn waves a little awkwardly one last time before he begins to walk down the lit corridor toward the green room. 

“Enjoy, lad!” Louis calls out, watching Shawn’s little bum cheeks jiggle as he trods on.

“We’re down to three!” Anna says, turning her attention back to Louis. “Louis, are you ready to hear your potential dates’ voices?” 

“Reckon so, yeah?”

“Alright, gents. Louis’d like to hear your voices so, seeing as how he owns a popular night spot with some of the most creative cocktails I’ve ever seen on a menu, I’ll have you tell us what your favorite cocktail is and why? Who would you like to hear from first, Louis?” 

Louis really REALLY wants to say Blue, but instead he’s going to hold off. Delayed gratification and good things coming to those who wait and all that. So he stares down Mr. Blue and instead says, “Green.” 

“I’d have to say a dirty martini, top-shelf. Because I’m stellar enough to cost more but I’m also a bit nasty when the situation calls for it.” Louis stills his face into a slight grin because of course Mr. Green would choose the one drink Louis thinks pretenders order. He does like the bit about him being nasty, though, he has to admit. Louis has been known to be a bit filthy occasionally himself. Perhaps his answer shows balls and Louis shouldn’t view it as a bad sign or a red flag that the dirty martini was Blake’s drink of choice as well. Maybe, it’s just bad memories.

“Hmmm. I detect a bit of a northern accent but it’s muddled. From Yorkshire originally, then?” 

“Yes, I think I hear the same. Where are you from, Green?” Anna asks the contestant.

“I grew up in Doncaster but I’ve lived in London since before I was a teenager.” Mr. Green says with his charming smile and a saucy wink. Ok, Mr. Green. Go on then with the flirty vibes. In his peripheral he notices Mr. Blue rolling his eyes and huffing a bit. Ohhhhh, he’s of the jealous kind then? Color him diabolical then, because this is going to be fun. 

“Nice one, mate. Cheers.” 

“Nice. And about his answer, Louis. What do you think about a dirty martini?” 

“Not my favorite, to be fair.” Louis sucks air in through his teeth and he notices out of the corner of his eye Mr. Blue grins and presents his chest like a proud peacock. Definitely a competitive energy going on between Mr. Green and Mr. Blue. Louis kinda wants to giggle at the prospect of him being fought over. Perhaps he could have Anna bring out some G-strings and a paddling pool full of jello so he could watch these tall, muscular beefcakes battle it out to win his heart. Mmm, on second thought…better not. 

“Alright, who’s next, Louis?”

“Let’s go with Blue next.” 

Mr. Blue clears his throat timidly and starts to shake his hair out again tilting his head forward to card through the curls before flipping his head back, it’s familiar as Louis noticed him performing the same action earlier, however this time he loses his balance a bit and almost falls through the side of the blue pod. Louis almost steps forward to try and catch him in case he were to fall out of the pod. The absurdity of the image of Mr. Blue falling out of the pod naked and Louis attempting to catch him pops into his head just then and Louis chokes back a laugh with a cough. “Oops. Shit, sorry.” Mr. Blue scrubs a hand over his face, his anxiety visible in every single muscle of his body as it tenses under Louis’ gaze. His eyes pop back open after a loud, audible sigh and land right on Louis’.

“Hi!” Louis gives a little wave. “It’s ok, love. Are you alright?” Louis lifts his hands, palms facing out in a bracing motion, his eyebrows raised in concern.

“Fine. Just clumsy. And embarrassed. Fuck. Shit, sorry I keep cursing. I hope you guys can censor or edit or whatever if you have to. Ummm– Hi. I guess I’m not allowed to say hi though, am I?” Green eyes clears his throat again. “I umm– I like– shit fuck…” Louis can’t help but explode into hysterical laughter at Mr. Blue’s bumbling. He’s not laughing because he’s making fun of the poor lad, he’s laughing at the absurdity of this being their first real interaction and how impossibly cute and endearing this mess of a man is. Louis is already completely useless against his moronic and fumbling charms. He’s never been so defenseless. Anna’s just sort of staring back and forth between the two of them, caught off guard at how far the last two minutes have strayed from her usual control of the show and her professional poise. Mr. Blue is now blushing like it’s his job and fiddling nervously with his hands. 

“I’m sorry, love. I’m not laughing at you, I promise. That was just– so ridiculous of a start for you. D’you want to start over? Can he start over, Anna?” Louis looks to her to step in and take the reins and then back at the sweet, shy boy standing before him in the blue pod, hoping to communicate reassurance with his eyes. 

“Yes, of course. Were you dizzy, Blue? Did you need a break?” 

“No, no. I’m alright to go forward. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen? Move on?” He’s practically pleading with his eyes and Louis thinks about how pretty he’d be if he were begging like that on his knees for– Fuck. 

“Yes, darling. Don’t worry! The main thing is that you’re ok. Let’s just start with me asking you your favorite cocktail and we’ll edit the rest right out. Don’t fret!” Louis notices Mr. Blue’s posture visibly relax at the words and the assurance that they could edit out his floundering fit.

“Thank you, Anna.” Louis puts a hand on her shoulder to squeeze it with gratitude and as he lowers his hand back down it occurs to him that he had absolutely nothing to thank her for. Mr. Blue did, but Louis didn’t, and yet he went and thanked her on Mr. Blue’s behalf anyway. Well that’s…strange, innit? Why did he do that? When his eyes meet Mr. Blue’s again, he’s cocked his head to the side, blinking at Louis with curiosity. Louis can tell he’s asking the same thing mentally. Why did Louis do that?

“Blue, it’s your turn. Go ahead and share with us your favorite cocktail?” 

“It’s called umm– a Sign of the Times. And it’s my favorite because it’s cured my hangover more times than I can count.” Mr. Blue chuckles airily, the sound of it tickling Louis’ ears.

Louis smiles at the very honest answer. He’s trying to focus on the smoothness of the voice he just heard because that’s what this round is supposed to be about, but now they’ve added a mysterious cocktail that he is unfamiliar with into the mix and he’s just dying to know more about this man in the blue box and also while he’s at it, he’d like to know where the fuck this adorable human has been all his life.

“A Sign of the Times! Sounds quite dramatic. Can I ask what’s in it, Blue?” Oh bless you, Anna, you QUEEN. Asking the important questions so Louis doesn’t have to!

“Sure. We serve it at– at my work. It’s a Bloody Mary, but it’s made with jalapeno infused tequila instead of vodka and the garnish is the traditional celery stalk, but also we add a slice of candied bacon, garlic stuffed olives, and pickled okra.”

“Love a good Bloody Mary. And that’s an excellent twist on it. Perhaps I should hire whoever came up with that recipe at your work?” Mr. Blue smiles, bashfully in response, effectively removing every single thought Louis has ever had in his entire brain.  

“Alright, Louis, of course you’re full speed ahead to talk about cocktail recipes with Blue here, but what did you think of his accent and his voice?”

“What– oh, yeah.” Jesus, Louis almost forgot why he was here after that interlude. “Voice is nice. Very smooth, calming, almost deep at times. Accent is posh, but I like it.”

“Yes, where are you from Blue?”

“Holmes Chapel.” Mr. Blue smiles again, his dimple seeming to deepen with each fleeting look he and Louis share. Louis can’t help but think that, in his twenty-five years, he’s been a successful business owner and former bartender who’s had more than his fair share of bar fights he’s had to break up that he’s survived, including one fuckhead pulling a knife on him once. He’s had countless painful football injuries, and a near brush with hypothermia the night he left Blake, and yet, this dimple is going to be the thing that finally takes him out. 

“Ahhhh Cheshire!” Anna shakes a finger in the air as if she was the detective who cracked the case. 

“Yeah. S’nice.” Louis smiles back as warmly as he can at Mr. Blue. He wants him to feel as at ease as he can in this situation. Louis knows how nerve-racking it is to be on the other side of this whole thing. He’s nervous to be on this side too, and he’d be lying if he said when he first came out here the fact that he was going to inevitably have to talk about cocks and foreskin and pubic hair wasn’t a bit daunting, but he’s got his theater-kid background to fall back on. He suspects Mr. Blue doesn’t quite have the same luxury. 

“Alright then, Orange, what’s your favorite cocktail?” Louis drags his body, reluctantly moving to his right but his eyes linger, locked onto the green ones tracking him as he saunters toward the orange pod. 

“Oi! I don’t drink anyfing but shots and pints, lad.” 

Did they just become best mates? YUP, Louis confirms .

“Oi, Oi! Now that’s a Donny accent. Nothing muddled about that one, innit?” Louis catches Mr. Green out of the corner of his eye pressing his lips into a tight line while Mr. Blue just giggles like Louis’ and Mr. Orange’s interaction is a cute video of kittens wrestling. So, not jealous of Mr. Orange, then. Ok, Louis’ taking notes here. 

“Well, no need to ask where he’s from, obviously. But Louis, does it bother you that he doesn’t drink cocktails?” 

“Oh, not at all. I’m more of a beer drinker myself, Anna. And, besides, at the End Of The Day, you love what you love and there ain’t no other way! AYYYY!” Louis breaks into a silly dance and Mr. Orange quickly follows suit as Mr. Blue claps and laughs, egging them on, while Mr. Green looks at them all like they’re alien life forms. 

Anna laughs. “Shall I just leave you two to it then?” 

“Alright, alright. I’ll put my moves back in my pocket.” Louis mimes sliding something into his back pocket. “I know it’s too much for you, Anna. S’alright. I don’t even play for your team anymore.” At that, what can only be described as a squawk of laughter detonates out of Mr. Blue, before he claps his hands over his mouth like a dam holding back a flood. Louis’ pretty sure it might be his new favorite sound. 

“Alright, Louis. You know the drill by now. It’s time to eliminate a player from the game. Who’s it gonna be?”

Louis sighs. “Ok. This is getting more and more difficult but I think I’m gonna have to eliminate Orange.”

“Orange! Noooo! Why? After your little dance break?” Anna looks like she’s positively shocked, but Louis is sure she’s performing for the cameras at this point. 

“Yeah, I just– He’s from where I’m from and I’m sure he’s a right lad, but it’d sort of be like dating myself, I think? I absolutely want to be mates with him, though.” 

“I could definitely see that. Alright, well Louis, say goodnight but not goodbye to Oliver, twenty-four, a handyman from– yep, you guessed it. Doncaster.” 

Louis chances a glance back to the blue box to see Mr. Blue’s reaction to the news. He looks like he’s about to throw up or shit himself or maybe pass out. Could go for the trifecta if he’s feeling brave.

“Call me Oli, Lewis.” The slighter ginger man startled Louis out of the blue while his attention was– well, elsewhere. Oli snuck up from behind them and immediately offered Louis a firm handshake.

“Oi, mate. I wasn’t joking about being mates. You seem like a laugh. Leave your number backstage with my mate, Zayn and we’ll grab a pint at my bar, my treat!” 

“Well, I ain’t gonna say no that, am I? Have to be a right git to turn that down, lad.” 

“Sorry, Oli, we don’t have a date for you tonight, but apparently you two have a lad-date in the works, so we’ll look forward to hearing how that went later!” They all laugh comfortably, as if ⅓ of them isn’t naked right now. “Farewell, Oli.” Oli slaps his own arse on the way through the corridor and Louis almost falls to the floor laughing. 

“Oh my god. Can I change my mind? I really just want to keep him around one more round for laughs, but I still don’t want to date him.”

“Of course not, Louis. Think of the scandal! And speaking of scandalous, Louis, you’ve narrowed it down to these two gorgeous gentlemen and you’ve seen every inch of skin they have to offer so it’s only fair that they get to see every inch of you in return! Alright, then, run along and get your kit off!” 

Louis turns to head down the corridor to his green room to undress but, just before he passes by the pods, Louis shifts his eyes slightly to his right and sends a cheeky wink to Mr. Blue. He knows he’s not supposed to communicate with the contenders, but he just can’t help himself. And the radiant smile that shines from Mr. Blue’s face does not disappoint. We’re talking full dimple launch and Louis can’t help but feel his eyes crinkling as his lips curve into an easy and warm smile and his cock starts to thicken up. He’s gonna have to squeeze in a quick wank in the greenroom loo before he comes back out to avoid standing there naked with a fucking hard-on. Greeeeeeaaattt. As he struts down the corridor Louis can’t help but feel like he’s more fucked than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. 

🍆H 🍆

He doesn’t know how he got here or what he’s done to deserve this, but here Harry is, in the final two, standing stark fucking naked and waiting for Anna to call Louis to come back out, also stark fucking naked, and stand mere inches from him so that Harry can finally expire in peace. He hopes they play Fleetwood Mac at his funeral and plant lilacs at his graveside. He’s always loved lilacs. 

“Based on Naked Attraction barkeep and football lover, Louis, has whittled six potential dates down to two. Twenty-four year old personal trainer, Luke, and twenty-three year old restaurant owner and chef, Harry, but only one can go on a date to find out if there’s chemistry when the clothes go back on. So Harry, Luke, congratulations on getting down to the final pair of you! Can I ask what you each think of your competition?”

“Ummm–” Harry hates the fact that he’s about to have to say something nice about the arselick standing right next to him. The words are definitely going to taste sour on his tongue. “He’s quite handsome, I think. Fit body.” 

Luke laughs like he’s tired of hearing it by now. “It’s my job, mate. Of course I have a fit body.” 

Anna clears her throat nervously after shooting Harry a ‘what the fuck did he just say?’ look on the sly. “And what about you, Luke, what do you think of the lovely Harry here?”

“He’s alright if you’re into that whole guys-that-sort-of-look-like-girls type of thing.” 

Harry’s neck nearly snaps in two, turning his head to glare at the fuck trumpet beside him with that nasty comment. He’s definitely more a lover than a fighter, but Harry’s never wanted to punch someone right in the gonads more than he does right now. WHAT A FUCKING PISSFLAP. 

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever had one of those moments where it feels like crickets are chirping because the silence is so loaded, but there’s a first time for everything.  “Well… moving on then. Up until this point you’ve seen Louis, fully clothed, but all of that is about to change.” 

Oh God, Harry’s going to hurl. DEEP FUCKING BREATHS, STYLES. 

“Come on out, Louis!” 

IS IT TOO LATE TO CHANGE HIS MIND? What was he thinking? Did he really think being naked in the same room with perfect Louis while being televised was a good idea? Can he get a lifeline?Isn’t there a ‘ring a friend option’ on this godforsaken game show? MUM, CAN YOU PICK ME UP, I’M SCARED. 

And then out walks Louis. Correction: out swaggers Louis. This man just walked back into the room naked as the day he was born like his cock could rival the size of Big Ben. A quick glance down at Louis’ package reminds Harry that he’s not that far off with his analogy. 

Oh great, now his mouth is watering.  

Anna’s going to ask him to speak in a minute and he’s going to drool everywhere and won’t that be super fucking attractive, H. Instead Harry starts to unconsciously lick his lips once Louis hits his mark on the stage because Harry is hungry. He’s practically a starved animal ready to pounce on the meal in front of him at any moment, television show be damned. 

The problem is not that Louis is toned in all the right places, that his abs have just the right amount of definition rippling down his stomach and into the perfect little pouch of a tummy, or that Harry wants to nibble it like it were a profiterole. The problem is not that Louis is tan everywhere or that Harry’s eyes are roaming over his miles of skin and longing to trace his fingers over the stark contrast of his tattoos. The problem isn’t even that Louis’ perfect fucking bum is RIGHT THERE and that Harry wants to trace the line of where his waist dips in with his tongue and follow it down across his hip and over the slope of his bum cheek to the prize awaiting in his crevice. No, the problem is that he’s actually in Louis’ presence, close enough to do all of those things, close enough to fucking smell Louis’ sweat mixed with his cologne, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him, close enough to see the flecks of green shining through in his mostly blue eyes and Harry has to stand here and pretend that he’s a normal human being. THAT is the problem. 

“Louis, you look wonderful! Want to give us a spin?” OH GREAT, ANNA WANTS HIM IN THE GRAVE TOO. The two of them, they’re positively conspiring. It’s diabolical.

Louis slowly starts to twirl around as Harry eyes take in the familiar lines of his oh– He’s got– Is that a new– 

“Listen, laugh all you want. I fucking knew it was coming. And yes, it’s a fucking penguin wearing headphones. Oh, don’t have a cow, Nialler, they can edit this bit out.” Louis turns back around. “That’ll teach me to think getting a tattoo at 4am after a lot of tequila is a good idea.” Harry’s laughing so hard his hands over his mouth barely keep the noise at bay. Louis shoots him a look as to say ‘watch it, Curly!’ It’s playful and fun and even though they’ve not had a proper conversation yet, the banter is already primed and ready to aim and fire. Harry looks beside him to Luke, who’s standing there looking bored with a stupid judgy look and Harry wants to smack it right off his stupid judgy face. 

“Gents, hot tip straight from the press…if you get that date with Louis tonight, take him to a tequila bar!” Anna winks and nudges him with her elbow. “Well, Louis, allow me to introduce you to your final two. This is Harry and Luke.” Harry keeps his eyes on him the entire exchange and he could swear he saw Louis silently and discreetly repeat his name, but it’s highly possible he’s hallucinating because having Louis naked in his vicinity is quite a lot to take in. “But before you choose one of them to go on a date with tonight, I’m going to ask them what they think of you. Turnabout is fair play after all. Luke, what do you think of Louis?” 

“Very hot. Wow. That arse is just a work of art, isn’t it? And a big thick cock is always a thumbs up for me.” 

Harry can’t really blame Luke for being captured by Louis’ beauty, but he’s not surprised that Luke specifically chose to focus his comments on those two features. Louis is so much more than that. He deserves so much more than this surface level bullshit. 

“What about you, Harry? You’ve been quietly studying.” 

“I’m quite drawn to his eyes and his smile. He’s got sunshine in his countenance.” The silence that followed caused Harry to immediately feel like he’d said too much or maybe shown his hand a bit too soon. And then Luke started laughing at him and his suspicions were confirmed. It was too much too soon which felt a lot like he was too much and that thought hurt. 

“What a lovely thing to say, Harry, thank you.” Harry’s eyes snapped up to Louis’ face from where they were focused on the floor after Luke’s laughing fit. Harry found Louis’ eyes inviting and warm, his smile soft and open. His kind expression filled Harry with hope and felt a lot like a comfortable embrace in a look. 

“Alright listen, Louis. Two gorgeous men. You have Harry and you have Luke. Only one of them you can take on a date. The moment of naked truth is here.”

Oh fuck. He got lost in Louis’ eyes for a moment and forgot that they’re here for a fucking TV show. This is just too much. It’s way too much. Harry’s banana from earlier starts to curdle in his belly and he thinks for a minute he might projectile vomit all over the stage. Maybe he’ll just aim toward Luke. Why on Earth did he do this? Is he supposed to act happy if Louis picks Luke? What’s the procedure? Is it that fake little clap actors do when they lose at the Oscars? How does he just go on with his life after this if Louis doesn’t pick him? 

“I choose….”

Please say Harry Please say Harry PLEASE SAY HARRY. All of a sudden Destiny’s Child’s “Say My Name” starts running through his head. What an inopportune time for that to happen. 

SAY MY NAME SAY MY NAME

IF NO ONE IS AROUND YOU 

SAY BABY I LOVE YOU

IF YOU AIN’T RUNNIN' GAME

Fuck’s sake, get out of here, Beyoncé, Harry’s trying to have himself a heart attack.

On second thought, Harry is not above praying.

Beyoncé, Goddess of all divas, we ask that you show favor on our young Harry Edward Styles and bestow upon him your grace in the form of a date with one Louis Tomlinson. In thy name and the name of thy mother, Madonna, we pray, Amen and Amen.

“I think he already knows, or at least I hope he does by now. Been mooning over him all day.” Louis mutters the last bit. “I choose Harry.” Louis nods when he says it and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt such relief in his life. 

Harry looks up from where he’s been staring at the floor and smiles so big and so brightly at Louis. Louis chose him. Louis wants to take him on a date. Louis wants to know him. The moments of joy are fleeting because, before he knows it, he registers movement and shouting to his right. Apparently Luke is absolutely losing his shit because he’s lost again. And honestly, the fact that there is a naked man yelling and flailing his arms about with anger should be a little less humorous to Harry than it is, but he can’t help but laugh nervously because Luke looks absolutely ridiculous. 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU LOT WOULD CHOOSE THIS LITTLE TWINK TO DO THE PICKING OVER ME ANYWAY. SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME MAKING THE CHOICE AND THEN I WOULDN’T HAVE CHOSEN SOME GIRLY MOTHERFUCKER–” 

“Oi. I’m going to keep my head about me, mate.” Louis puts his hands up in a placating manner and for a second Harry’s a bit worried because he’s afraid Luke’s going to hit him, but Luke just stops dead in his tracks. “You can say whatever the fuck you want about me, but leave Harry out of this. I didn’t choose you, I chose him and with good reason. And I’m not gonna let you stand here and talk shit about him because you’re insecure. In case you’re wondering, I didn’t pick you because you remind me a lot of my ex and I’ll tell you the same thing I told him before I left him. You might want to consider some therapy for those unresolved anger issues. You’re hurting yourself more than anyone else, mate.” 

Harry is absolutely mesmerized by the way Louis handles Luke. He’d kept his voice calm and even and although Luke was spitting insults left and right during his rant, Louis had put Luke right into his place without saying the first ugly word to him. Luke seems like he doesn’t know what to do with Louis’ words. It’s like he was just somehow used to everyone catering to him to avoid conflict and not really calling him out for acting like an arsehole. 

“If anything, mate, just take the lick and move on. Why would you want to date someone who didn’t choose you, anyway?” Luke just blinks at him in response, seemingly tucking his tail between his legs because he’s realizing Louis is right and his outburst is pathetic and absurd. He huffs and stomps off down the corridor without so much as another word. Harry supposes he’s just trying to keep his pride intact. 

“Well, bye then, Luke.” Anna jokes nervously. Everyone is a bit on edge after Luke’s tantrum. “Well done defusing that bomb, Louis. I’m so sorry if it’s put a damper on your big moment with Harry!”

“No, no! I’m used to dealing with narcissists and if anything it’s just further confirmed that I made the right decision by picking Harry.” And Harry’s never going to get tired of what hearing Louis say his name does to his body. “Speaking of which, Harry, are you alright, love?” Harry smiles sweetly at Louis who’s stepped over beside him now and is turned towards him slightly, laying a gentle touch to his shoulder. The touch is so light he’d barely notice it except for his skin burning hot under Louis’ fingertips. 

Harry blushes as he glances at Louis’ fingers before his eyes travel up to Louis’ face. “I’m fine, Lou. Thank you for what you said. For– for sticking up for me.” It’s then that Louis’ hand drops from his shoulder and reaches to clasp Harry’s. Louis’ palm is warm in Harry’s and Louis’ fingers apply the perfect amount of pressure as they wrap around Harry’s. It’s the perfect acknowledgment that his attraction to Louis is welcomed and reciprocated and it feels like his hand was made to fit in Harry’s.

“Well, guys, I don’t think I need to say anything further except to remind you that the next time you see each other it will be with all your clothes on. Louis and Harry…go enjoy your date!” 

The two men start walking down the neon lit corridor and Harry looks down, noticing that Louis is still holding his hand. Until this moment Harry’s always felt like holding hands was sort of an arbitrary thing. It felt like something people only did so they could show off that they weren’t alone. Like some sort of relationship flex. And now, here he is holding hands with his Louis for the nation to see and somehow it feels like it’s just for them to know the other is there, walking beside them. Louis’ voice startles him out of the wheels turning in his own mind. 

“God! This feels like the worst walk of shame I’ve ever made. I mean, why can’t they let us get dressed before we leave the stage instead of making us walk down the hall with our cocks bouncing everywhere and our arse cheeks jiggling for the goddamn camera.” Harry laughs down the hall as they make their way toward the green room. 

“It’s only fair after you’ve rejected five other people and subjected them to the same walk, Lou.” 

“To be fair, they wouldn’t have wanted me anyway, Harry. I’ve been ruined ever since you decided to fling your mammoth penis in my face.” 

“Excuse me, there was no flinging. And it’s not mammoth.” 

“V’got to be honest here, I’m really re-thinking my stance on versatility and buying a one way ticket to Top-land.” Harry doesn’t even recognize the laugh that practically catapults itself out of him. Hopefully Louis doesn’t think his laugh is stupid. 

“I love your laugh so much.” Louis’ looking at him so fondly that Harry gets lost in it and walks right past the door they were looking for. “Ahem. S’our door, Harry.” Louis clicks his tongue and thumbs toward the green room door with both of their names written on a sign. Odd. Last time they didn’t let him and Taylor share a green room afterwards. For a brief moment, Harry wonders if Niall had anything to do with this. Louis gently tugs Harry back by their joined hands and causes Harry, who’s lost in his thoughts, to stumble. With his attempt at an abrupt stop he somehow lands with his back against the door, Louis stepping into his space to attempt to steady him with his hands on Harry’s hips. Harry immediately throws his arms up into a V like an Olympic gymnast at the end of their routine. 

“Stuck the landing!” Louis giggles at his silly joke, bringing his wrist up to cover his mouth. Harry’s seen him do that before but seeing it in person is a whole other ballgame. “I love yours too.” Harry loves seeing the exact moment that Louis realizes what Harry was referring to because his face melts like butter on toast. Every molecule within Harry’s body is screaming to reach out and touch Louis’ cheek. So he does. 

“Can I just– ?” Harry grazes the top of his index finger down the line of Louis’ face, his eyes tracking his own finger’s motion. He just couldn’t help himself. He’s spent all this time thinking about what it would be like to touch Louis and now that it’s an actual possibility, he never wants to stop. Louis’ face is soft under his finger and warm to his touch. When Harry lifts his eyes back to find Louis’ gorgeous blues he finds them fixed on Harry’s lips instead. Louis’ eyes flit back up to meet Harry’s like he’s just realized what he was staring at and it’s precisely at that moment that Harry is reminded that they’re both naked in a random hallway and that if they don’t turn down the eye-fucking, Harry’s either going to pop a very public boner for everyone to see or he’s going to attach himself to Louis like a koala. Neither option sounds dignified. 

Louis clears his throat before Harry even has a chance to flip the magnet. “Well, let’s get clothed, shall we?”

When Harry walks into the room ahead of Louis he is completely unprepared for the sight waiting for him. There’s a dark headed, olive-skinned man straddling and attempting to suck the lips off of someone. Two faces snap towards the door as he steps into the room and Harry realizes that the person being straddled on the sofa is Liam. 

Harry spins around quickly, placing his hands on Louis’ chest and starts to gently back Louis out of the room before he sees. “I– I don’t think this is our greenroom, Louis, let’s just–” Before Harry can block his view, Louis peeks over Harry’s shoulder. 

“GET IN, MATE. I knew he’d be just your type.” Louis fist pumps in the air and Harry’s too scandalized to do anything other than giggle like a twelve year old girl. Louis walks over to the open cupboard and shimmies his pants on before walking straight over to the sofa and plopping down right next to Liam and his attractive make-out partner. “Oh, how rude of me, so sorry, Harry. Harry, this is my best mate, Zayn.” Louis gestures toward the dark haired man now hiding his face in Liam’s shoulder. Harry is too stunned to do anything so he just stands there in the doorway…awkwardly…and naked. “Don’t let us stop you guys. You were clearly in the middle of something. Liam, for shame…I’ve only dumped you what?” Louis looks at his naked wrist, no watch to be found anywhere. “Thirty minutes ago and you’re already trying to make it with my best friend? You were just using me to get to him all along weren’t you? YOU MANWHORE.” Louis pretends to slap Liam on the face but really it’s just a tap. 

“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!” Liam exclaims, covering his face with his hands. 

“Alright, knobhead, you’re scaring your date already and he’s only just agreed to date you AND you’re upsetting the lovely Li, here and I won’t have him in a mood before our date tonight!” Zayn finally climbs off of Liam’s lap and Harry really doesn’t want to see how huge Liam’s bulge is again so he distracts himself by quickly crossing the room to the cupboard where his clothes are neatly folded and waiting for him and starts to get dressed. 

“Ahhh, but Z, I have it on good authority that young Harry here loves my sense of humor.” 

Harry chuckles. “He’s not wrong.” Harry smirks at Zayn who raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side in a nodding motion. 

“And besides, I have seen your new boyfriend completely naked today, yet he’s embarrassed that I caught you making out and I’m giving you shit for it? You’re gonna have to toughen up if you want to date this one, Liam.” Louis gestures to Zayn and pops up off the couch to start putting the rest of his clothes on. 

“Yeah, he’s not wrong about that either.” Zayn reasons, kissing Liam’s cheek.

“That’s two.” Louis raises two fingers in the air and Harry’s hopelessly devoted to his bravado, though he is starting to wonder if Louis’ ever not ON. Give him time. The voice in Harry’s head is a good reminder that although he feels as if he’s known Louis for years, they’ve just met. He wonders if he should maybe tell Louis about his little– crush…at some point? Maybe once he feels like they’re really hitting it off and Louis’ going to ask him out again? Yes, it’s definitely a second date conversation and preferable to be had without cameras in their faces. 

Harry’s just finishing up buttoning his shirt when the door flings open and Niall flies through like he’s on fire. He makes a beeline over to Harry not even realizing there are three other people in the room. 

“Oh thank GOD, there you are, H. I need help.” Niall grabs Harry’s shoulders and clamps his hands around them like his grip keeping him alive. “I need to know how you ask the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen on a date. I just– every time I’m in front of him I just–” Niall mimes his head exploding complete with sound effects. “He’s just– he’s really intelligent and kind and so funny and he has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen and he’s like, WAY out of my league and I think I might love him already.” After a few seconds of silence Niall must realize they aren’t alone in the room and his head turns slowly to take in the other three faces. Zayn has his eyebrows raised but he’s smiling softly, seemingly holding back a snicker while Louis is just smirking like he invented it. Poor Liam is in complete shock, mouth gaping like a hungry codfish. 

“Well, I think it’s about time we go try to find your clothes, Li, don’t you?” Zayn grabs Liam’s hand and pulls him up off the sofa. Liam fiddles with his red dressing gown to make sure it’s covering the baby’s arm holding an apple between his legs, as Zayn drags him towards the door. Harry notices over Niall’s shoulder that Zayn mouths ‘text me’ at Louis just before they exit. 

“Is this about Shawn?” Louis asks directly.

“How did you– ?” Niall looks completely perplexed. 

“Niall, he’s just as obvious as you are.” Louis over exaggeratedly winks at Niall as he’s walking towards his cupboard to finish getting dressed.  

“Oh, you saw it too! I thought I was hallucinating it for a second there.” Harry looks straight at Louis and then back at Niall who is currently turning green. 

“Oh GOD! I don’t know how I feel about all of this.” Niall deposits himself on the sofa, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He looks like he’s going to be sick.

“Jesus, Niall, he obviously likes you back if he was talking about a date with you! Why are you freaking out so much about this?” Harry exasperates. 

“Because I– I’m afraid they’ll fire me?” 

“Niall, you do realize that you and I met on the show and are actually roommates and they haven’t said shit about it. Try again, mate.” Louis’ neck snaps toward Harry at his revelation. Harry can see the surprise in his eyes, but then he sort of shakes his head and turns his attention back to the very nervous Niall sitting on the couch while he’s fastening his trousers. Harry drags his eyes up and down Louis’ form as he moves to put his clothes on. And oh– those are very tight trousers…

Focus on Niall, Harry, FOCUS.

Niall sighs like he’s letting out all the air in his body. “I’m afraid he wants this to be a casual thing and well– I’ve– I’ve been interviewing him and bloody pining over him and watching his episode for like— ever…” Sounds familiar, Harry thinks. “...and– what if he doesn’t want, you know– to be with me.” 

Niall’s wringing his hands and shaking slightly so Harry crosses to the sofa and lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Then you’ll move on and I’ll be here to help with that. But you still have a chance, Ni, that’s not passed you by yet…if you don’t go do this, then it will have.” Niall’s eyes start to fill with tears at the sound of his own words spoken back to him. He glances over at Louis briefly and then back at Harry. “Nothing to lose, nothing to prove, right?” Harry’s eyes shift over to Louis to find the strangest look of recognition in his eyes. Perhaps the words just resonated deeply with him. 

“Nothing to lose, nothing to prove.” Niall nods his head, affirming the mantra, and rises to his feet. “Ok, I’m ready to go get rejected and have my heart chewed up like it’s a Sunday roast. You better have my fucking comfort brunch feast ready when I get home tonight.” Harry chuckles. “I’m talking eggs benny, pancakes, sausage, candied bacon, mangomosas…” Louis’ eyes start to widen at the list. 

“Let’s just see how it goes before I start bankrupting my restaurant to cheer you up. Mkay, pumpkin?” Harry brings Niall into a warm embrace before gently nudging him toward the door.

“Oh, and don’t forget the Bluebird french toast!” Niall says winking just before he finally exits the room.

“Bluebird french toast, hmmm?” Louis’ eyebrows raise, smirking.

“S’a special at Daylight. My restaurant. I cook for Niall at home a lot when I’m testing out new dishes.” 

“Lucky dog, that Niall.” Louis winks. “You didn’t mention you owned a restaurant.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t want to– You know, I didn’t want to come off like I was just trying to get free promo or something by mentioning it? Also, there wasn’t much time what with all the shouting Luke was doing and then all the sucking face Liam and Zayn were doing and then with all the freaking out Niall was doing.” Louis snickers. Harry feels a bit of a flutter in his belly at the sound of Louis laughing at his witty commentary. Harry’s not sure how much he’s allowed to tell Louis considering they’re probably supposed to be saving all this for the date and for the cameras.

“Alright so. I think they’ve scheduled our date for this weekend? I assume that works for you?” Harry wonders if Louis’ asking because he’s excited about it or if he’s just trying to get rid of Harry so he can decompress and unwind from the day’s events. Or maybe he’s worried about divulging too much before their date as well? Either way, Harry could use a little decompression himself, to be honest, so he nods in response. 

“I– Are we allowed to exchange numbers? I just– I don’t want to seem too eager, but I like what I’ve seen and heard of you, Lou, and I’d really like to continue getting to know you and I don’t want to wait five days to start.” Louis looks genuinely pleased at the admission. 

“I don’t think we’re allowed to, Harry…” Harry frowns slightly, but he understands Louis wanting to keep his privacy just in case things didn’t work out with Harry. “...but lucky for you, I’m really into breaking the rules.” Louis winks. Harry breathes a sigh of relief and starts to let out a nervous laughter that sounds a bit psychotic. Hopefully Louis doesn’t notice and think he’s a serial killer. “Really, though, it’s their own fault for giving us a joint greenroom for after the filming. Dunno when they started doing that?” Harry very much thinks that Niall is to blame or to thank for the shared green room situation, he’ll decide which one it’s going to be later. 

“Maybe that’s just me being lucky again.” Harry winks back at Louis. Ok, he can do this. He can relax and flirt a bit and not feel like he’s going to lose his banana in Louis’ presence.  

Louis takes a couple of steps towards Harry and, before Harry realizes it, Louis is in his space. Their eyes are fixed on one another, stuck in a stare down and Harry feels the heat within his gut stirring at Louis’ striking eyes peering straight through him. 

“You look good dressed.” Louis whispers into the air after giving Harry a once over. If Harry’s gaze wasn’t so fixated on Louis he wouldn’t have even known he had spoken because his mind is on the thickness of the air around them and how bad he wants Louis’ body against his. Harry almost blacks out when he feels Louis’ hand on his hip, the other rising to rest on his ribs and before he realizes what’s happening Louis is walking forward and backing Harry up against one of the closed cupboards behind him. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy you undressed as well, babe.” This time the words are spoken into a spot just below Harry’s ear. His head sounds a thud as it hits the cupboard behind him, his eyes closing as if on reflex.

Louis pulls back from his skin as his left hand lowers from Harry’s ribs and onto the front of his belly just above his butterfly, pushing him away slightly. Harry’s eyes have barely left Louis’ during the exchange, like there’s an invisible tether replacing their line of sight and Harry doesn’t know where else he would look if he were to drag himself away from those watchful blues. Louis’ right hand walks itself from Harry’s hip to the front of his waistband where he slides the tip of his index finger back and forth along the waistband line. “Suppose I’ll just have to live in those very fond memories of what’s underneath for now.” Harry’s cock practically pulsates at the gravelly tone of Louis’ voice. 

Fuck. Harry’s going to come in his corduroys. 

From his belly, Louis’ hand slips around Harry’s left hip behind him and for a moment Harry thinks Louis’ might be going for a bum squeeze, but instead he dips his hand into Harry’s back pocket and pulls out his phone. Harry vaguely registers Louis holding his phone up in front of his face to unlock it and then Louis’ typing something in. Harry can’t think because the heat of Louis’ other hand is still burning through him and he can smell Louis’ fragrance and he can still feel the ghosting mist of Louis’ breath on his neck. Louis reaches back around, slipping the phone back into Harry’s pocket, his hand returning to its rightful place atop the fabric gently veiling the insect on Harry’s belly. His eyes flit down to Harry’s mouth yet again and then back up to pore into Harry’s once more. It’s when Louis starts to step back, releasing his weight from against Harry, freeing him from being caged in against the cupboards, that Harry whines in protest. 

“Louis.” The noise is almost involuntary but the word is very intentional. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything more in his twenty-three years of life than he wants Louis’ mouth to join with his own. He thought they had been headed that direction for a moment there, but then Louis pulled away. Maybe he didn’t realize Harry wanted it so badly? Or maybe Louis wants to save it for the cameras. Harry can’t imagine that to be the case with everything he knows about Louis, but he’s been wrong about people before. 

Louis’ lips curl into a reluctant smile. The action makes Harry think that Louis is fighting with himself about something. “I’ll see you in a few days, Harry. Text me if you want.” Well that was…casual? Flippant? Harry can’t quite decide on the word. He just blinks at Louis in response before watching him quietly slip out the door leaving it closed behind him. He wants to pull Louis back into him, to fall to his knees and beg, to voice his objection, but he can’t move from against the cupboard as if Louis’ eyes have pinned him against it.

And just like that, Harry’s left alone and hard in this random holding room and wondering what the fuck just happened?  

Harry’s so confused, he’s so caught off guard and he’s so– he’s so…turned on? He can barely think in complete sentences right now. He reasons that he and Louis had met in an unconventional way so maybe he needs to start thinking about this unconventionally. He crosses to the mirror on the opposite wall. He takes stock of his reflection, staring maybe a little too long at the blotchiness of his skin left behind in Louis’ wake. He grazes his fingers over the spot on his neck where he felt Louis’ lips and his breath only moments ago. 

Harry…

Harry thinks to himself how ridiculous it is that he’s speaking to himself within his own inner monologue. He’s absolutely batshit at this point. 

Harry, we’re not going to freak out about this. No, we’re not. We’re going to take a deep breath and we’re going to pull up our big boy panties and we’re going to make it through these next few days without worrying about why Louis didn’t kiss us. Louis must have had his reasons, so we’re going to respect that. 

Harry looks down at the bulge in his pants as his cock continues to soften. 

Nope, hey, eyes up here. 

Harry stares back at his own eyes again.

There we are. Ok, now repeat after me.

Harry’s absolutely not doing this. He might as well call and reserve his bed in the madhouse if he agrees–

I, Harry Edward Styles…

“I, Harry Edward Styles…” Is he really doing this? 

do solemnly swear to get my shit together…

“do solemnly swear to get my shit together…” Harry sighs. 

I promise to trust myself and to let myself be open to trusting Louis.

“I promise to trust myself and to let myself be open to trusting Louis.” 

I swear to be easy, breezy, beautiful, cover girl. So chill that people will think I have hypothermia. So under the radar that it’ll be like I’m underground. So low-key that I’ll be as quiet as a bee’s buzz. So laid back–

“Ok, I get the point.” 

Sorry…

“I’m not saying all of that.” 

Ok, just one last thing. I promise to love myself and to be open to love.

Harry’s eyes start to sting as the words float through his brain. “I promise to love myself and to be open to love.”

Because I deserve it. 

A tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. “Because…I deserve it.” 

Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.

“Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.”

Amen.

“I’m not pray– fuck off, I’m not saying that.” 

Harry wipes the tear from his cheek with the back of his hand, turning away from the mirror swiftly. His own face is too difficult to look at now, and after all the ups and downs today brought he’s feeling a bit too exposed for his liking. He shuffles back over to the cupboard and collects the rest of his things before shrugging on his jacket. 

What a fucking day.

Maybe he should go home and have a bath? Or maybe he’ll just make some comfort food and binge watch something trashy. He doesn’t expect Niall to actually require the feast he had mentioned earlier because, if Harry’s suspicions are correct, Shawn’s going to be super keen on the idea of a date with Niall. Maybe he should just grab some Chinese takeaway on the way home, eat it in front of the telly, and then pass out early on the couch amidst a pile of sesame chicken and dumplings? Bingo. 

Just as he’s seemingly made his mind up about the comforts he’ll shower upon himself tonight and he’s headed out the door of the greenroom, he feels his phone buzz in his back pocket. Oh no, hopefully it’s not Niall texting with a broken heart about to ruin his plans. He pulls out the phone to make sure Niall’s ok because he’s a good friend. His brow furrows, pulling up the text thread only to find that– his eyes widen at the sight of the name stored in his phone with a peach emoji and a kissy face next to it. It’s Louis. Louis texted him. He must have sent himself a text when he had Harry’s phone earlier. Harry pulls up the text and his entire body liquifies in response to what Louis had sent.

Lou 🍑😘 : Glad I picked you. 💙

In consideration of all of his sexual experience, the countless fingers and plenty of cocks he’s had up his arse, Harry still doesn’t think he’s ever been more sufficiently fucked than he is right now.

Chapter Text

Part IV: There’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me

🍑 L 🍑

Harry hadn’t texted him back. It’s been two days without a single word. Had Louis read it wrong? Harry had been so forthcoming about wanting to continue getting to know Louis and he’d seemed so eager to start something with him. Was he saving everything for filming then? He didn’t seem like the type to be just in this for fame and notoriety, what with not even mentioning his restaurant’s name during the show. And he’d asked to exchange numbers after the cameras were long gone. And Louis had dealt with his fair share of fame chasers and fakes. No, Louis hadn’t gotten it wrong. He’s an excellent judge of character. 

Louis had resolved himself not to send any further texts after sending the one moments after he’d left the greenroom where he’d left Harry panting and glistening and desperate to be kissed. He’d wanted to put the ball in Harry’s court, which is why he sent the text in the first place. He didn’t know why he’d pulled away from Harry and left. Something inside him just said to wait, even though his desire to kiss Harry was so intense he’d basically had to pry himself away from his long, firm, and warm…body. Jesus Christ, that man was sex on legs. Peanut butter legs. Thick, creamy, and begging to be spread.

Maybe he had wanted to wait because he had come on so strong during the filming of the show. There really wasn’t even a single moment Louis was thinking about picking anyone other than Harry and pretty much everyone there had known it. Well, maybe everyone except for Luke anyway. What a self-absorbed bag of twats that guy was. Maybe he wanted to make sure Harry wanted him as much as he’d wanted Harry and pulling away right before the moment their lips met was Louis’ way of shifting the responsibility. It wasn’t that he was playing games, per se, and there was absolutely no malice behind it, Louis just wanted the push and pull in the pursuit. He didn’t want it to be a one way chase because he loved the back and forth, the tug-of-war, the ebb and flow dynamic in a relationship. Louis had done the all give, no take in his relationship with Blake and he’d promised himself after he had left that, from now on, he wouldn’t be the one preparing the gourmet feast for his significant other for them to only feed him crumbs in return. Louis wanted reciprocity, a real collaborative partnership…he wanted an equal. A match. 

For all these reasons, Louis pockets his phone without typing a word after staring at the open chat between him and Harry. He audibly sighs and wonders if he should even bother reminding Harry about their date tomorrow. Surely Niall would make sure he knew considering it was going to be filmed. That’s all Louis fucking needs is to be stood up for a televised date. He doesn’t let the thought linger as he unlocks the door and walks into End Of The Day to start prepping for open. 

Louis sets to work cutting up some garnish for a new drink special he wants to add to the menu for the week. He couldn’t sleep last night so he’d rolled out of bed to the kitchen to do some experimenting with flaming cocktails. It’s neither here nor there that the drink happens to be blue like the pod Harry occupied during filming. And while we’re ‘not minding’ things, pay no attention to the fact that Louis wants to call it the “On Fire Babe” just like the term of endearment that had trickled off his tongue and onto Harry’s neck. Clearly, he’s not thinking about Harry in the middle of the night to the point that it prompts him to abandon the warmth of his bed to create a drink simply because it embodies Harry’s heat. Fuck, maybe Louis should just text him again?

Just as Louis is starting to shake the drink up, the door opens and Zayn comes waltzing– well, limping in. 

Louis whistles. “Somebody got dicked down last night, I see.” He adds a wink just to give his observation that little extra dickish flair.

“Oh, fuck off, you saw how huge Liam is.”

“Z, there’s a reason anacondas don’t live in snake holes.” 

“I fucking–” Zayn gasps and winces as he lifts himself up onto the barstool. “...hate you.” 

“Well, does he at least know what to do with his humongous peen?” 

Zayn raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Does he ever.” Zayn laughs and then recoils from the laughter.

“Jesus, shall I make you a liquid painkiller?” Louis gestures towards the bar. 

“Louis, it’s ten am.”

“And yet you’ve walked– excuse me, hobbled into my alcohol vending establishment.” 

“Ok, that’s fair. What’s this blue thing you’re mixing? Oh my god, why are you lighting it on FIRE?” 

Louis snickers. “This, Zaynie bo baney, is the ‘On Fire Babe’. Special of the week.” 

Zayn blows out the flaming drink as Louis places a slightly charred pineapple slice on the side of it and drops a straw in the sparkling blue concoction for Zayn.

“Still hasn’t texted back, has he?” Louis starts wiping down the bar, lifting things and cleaning behind them, hoping to avoid the question. “Why don’t you just text him again?”

Louis stops his busy work dropping the cloth on the bar. “I– No.” 

“Why not?”

“Because– recipro–, recipro– cation that’s why? Reciprocation… is that even a word? I feel like that’s not a word.” 

“Fucked if I know.” Zayn laughs, shifting in his seat slightly. Christ, Liam must have absolutely torn that arse up. Louis’ slightly jealous because it’s been way too long since someone gave him that good-good. “But I think I understand what you’re trying to say and I get why that’s important to you. Equality and all that, but if you’re losing sleep over him I think you should–”

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll see him tomorrow for the date, provided he doesn’t decide not to show.” Louis shrugs as he lugs out a cutting board and begins to aggressively slice some strawberries. They’re going to be muddled for the drinks later anyway so he has no idea why he’s even bothering to slice them. 

“Why would he do that? It’s being filmed, who would–?”

Louis raises his eyebrows at Zayn tapping the flat of the knife to his temple. “Ah-ha, as you’ll remember, someone very much would and someone very much did.” 

Zayn audibly sighs, taking another sip of his drink. His blue tongue dipping out to catch the straw before he sucks on it. “Louis, I watched a good amount of the filming on the screen in the greenroom and you and that kid were connected like links in a chain. You were focused on him–”

“Yeah, I was focused on him but that doesn’t mean he was focused on me, Z.” Louis is positively punishing the strawberries now, messily chopping at them with his frustration. 

Zayn reaches across the bar and stills Louis’ hand with a touch to his forearm. “Hey.” Louis looks up at Zayn, his knife still poised on the board to continue murdering the fruit. “It wasn’t just you. I saw how he looked at you when you guys came into that greenroom. It’s not one-sided, Louis. I don’t know why he hasn’t texted you back, but I know what disinterest looks like, and that wasn’t it. He said you had fucking sunshine in your countenance, Lou, come on.” Louis laughs and then sighs audibly, dropping the knife onto the board and scrubbing his hands over his face. 

“I’m going fucking mad, Z, I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” Louis throws up his hands in exasperation. “I was so sure he wanted me back in the greenroom, but then after I left him I–” 

Oh, fuck. It dawns on him like the morning light creeping through his bedroom curtains. Louis thinks he knows exactly why Harry hadn’t texted him back. He’s mentally face palming while chanting stupid stupid stupid and now he wants to pound his head on the bar. If he can’t get his proverbial shit together it’s probably the only kind of pounding he’s gonna get. Pity, that.

“You what?” 

“I fucking left him in there all– Oh, my god, I’m such a dumbfuck, Zayn.” 

“Well, yeah, I could have told you that.”

“Fuck you, you can pay for that drink if you don’t coddle me and tell me how to fix it.” Louis starts the sentence spitting sass and then he’s positively whining by the end of it. What the fuck is Harry turning him into?

“Well, my sore arse is not moving until I’ve had at least one more free drink from you, so fill ‘er up and tell me how you left him, and I’ll do my best to solve the conundrum that is your stupidity.” Louis fish mouths, but then realizing he actually does need Zayn’s help on this he closes his mouth and starts silently making another drink. “Wise choice,” Zayn says, smirking. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” 

🍆 H 🍆

“Harry, do you want to explain to me why Zayn is texting me, saying that you haven’t texted Louis back in two days?” 

Niall’s voice startles Harry out of his focus on cleaning the kitchen top in front of him. He’s just wrapped up a busy shift at the restaurant and he’s dead on his feet, but he stayed behind to do a deep clean of the kitchen in order to distract himself from the very text Niall just mentioned. 

“Bloody meddling friends,” Harry murmurs under his breath. “I don’t see why it’s any of either of your business unless you’re pissed that we exchanged numbers and this is about the stupid show rules, but I–” Harry stops himself from wiping the cupboards down in fury, taking a deep breath and turning towards Niall to continue the conversation. “I didn’t know what to say to him.” 

“Jesus Christ, I put you two in that greenroom for a reason. Of course it’s not about the fucking rules. Which by the way, did you even tell him about why you were on the show to begin with? I’m guessing not. That would be an excellent place to start maybe.” Niall starts rummaging through the walk-in fridge, looking for snacks as Harry starts to sink in on himself at the thought that he’s keeping something from Louis. “I can think of at least twelve responses off the top of my head right now starting with,” Niall closes the door to the large fridge empty handed, pacing over to Harry and pretending to text on his phone. ‘Your place or mine, Louis, you sexy bastard?’, or how about, ‘I think I want to love you, marry you, and fuck your brains out and I’ve been thinking about it for literal years. Ring emoji, eggplant emoji, calendar emoji.’, or you could go with something more subtle like, ‘I’d really like your cock up me arse. Peach emoji.’” Is he fucking for real? “Oh, OH, OH! You could just simply say, ‘Louis, please get me pregnant. Baby emoji.’”

“Niall. With all due respect…please fuck the fucking fuck off.”

“What? What’s so wrong with telling him you want him to make an honest man out of you?”

Harry sighs audibly, removing his gloves and rubbing a hand over his face. “You didn’t even see what he texted.” 

“Well, unless he told you that he was Napoleon reincarnated or an actual serial killer, I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t reply?” Niall, throws his hands up, his face scrunching up with confusion. May the Gods bless him and his openhearted nature, because he simply does not understand the complication that is being an absolute overthinking, over analyzing, self deprecating catastrophic basket case of a human being. 

“He– he said he was glad he picked me.” Harry leans against the counter as he says it, looking down at his nails and starting to pick at his cuticles. 

“Oh, well that makes sense. I totally understand, in that case.” 

“You do?” Harry looks up from his nails. 

“OF COURSE I FUCKING DON’T?!?!?!” Niall picks up a ladle and points it at Harry accusingly. “H, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? He basically told you how much he likes you and you just fucking GHOSTED him????”

“That’s not– I–” Harry didn’t know what to say. He’s not going to even bother telling Niall that he had been the one to initiate the exchange of numbers. Niall would probably crack his head open with that ladle and scoop his brains out and feed them to him. 

“Just give me your phone.” Niall holds out his hand palm up.

“Oh, absolutely not. You’re not replying for me. I’m setting a boundary.”

Niall laughs, scoffing. “I’m setting a boundary because I’m a big fat chicken who can’t reply to a big scary text message from the pretty boy I like.” Niall’s mocking is just taking it a bit too far for Harry. He’s already a bit emotional considering he’s been beating himself up about not replying for two days now. He’s gone back and forth in his mind about what to say and when you argue with your own thoughts inside your own head like that all day, it leaves you mentally exhausted. Both yesterday and the day before he had come up with something decent to say in response after fighting with himself all day, but by the time he’d finally gotten the nerve up to send the text he was too exhausted to send it and drive himself crazy obsessing over whether or not Louis would reply. 

Harry hangs his head in defeat as all the fight and argument vacate his body. He’s tired. He’s so tired of warring within himself about a stupid text message. As he reaches into his back pocket to pull out his phone, a deep frown etching across his face, Niall stops him. 

“Hey, I– Fuck, H, I didn’t mean to upset you. I– I was just– Shite. I’m being a dickhead because I felt like I kind of put my job on the line for you on this one, H. Like, I got you on the show and then I got you that greenroom and I just fucking knew you hadn’t told him yet and–” Harry starts to sniffle slightly. He’s not crying yet, but the tears are absolutely on the verge of dripping from his eyes. “And– Shawn still hasn’t called me yet after our date the other night so I’m kind of reeling from that and then I got this text from Zayn and it just…for whatever reason it triggered me. I was projecting and that’s not fair to you.” Harry looks up at his best mate with glassy eyes, not only feeling sad for himself but now also feeling sad for Niall as well. “I know, I know. I’m using the therapy words, so you know it’s got to be a dire situation.” 

Harry breathes in and out nervously. He absolutely hates face to face conflict, usually opting to shut down emotionally and clam up. “I swear I’m going to tell him, it’s just– it feels like a lot to do it now when we’ve just met. I know you’re right, though.” They stand awkwardly in silence for a minute, both acknowledging their shortcomings with nervous hands and stilled lips. Harry decides to break the uncomfortable suspended bubble of quiet and give his best mate a chance to vent. “Wanna tell me about Shawn?” 

“That depends. Will there be pancakes?” 

“Pancakes?”

“Yes, pancakes. Such a discussion requires pancakes, H. It’s in the guide to being Niall’s best mate manual.”

“Oh, I must have missed that chapter.” Harry grins at Niall. “Come on, mate. Let’s go home and I’ll make you pancakes and we can whine about our sad bastard love lives and cry into the maple syrup.”

“Oh, so just a typical Friday night in the Styles-Horan household?” Niall finally sets down the ladle and helps Harry with the ingredients he’s loading into his tote bag. 

“Excuse you, Niall, if we decide to hyphenate it will be Horan-Styles.” Harry looks at Niall feigning offense.

“This is no way to start out our marriage, H.” Niall puts a hand on his cocked hip.

Harry tuts his tongue. “I’m terribly sorry, lover, perhaps we can discuss it further over brinner.”

“That’s more like it, but I’m still not honeymooning in Paris, lover, no matter what you say. It’s Rome all the way.” 

“Why not both, lover?” The two best friends laugh as they exit the restaurant and for the first time in two days Harry doesn’t feel like he’s being pulled in two different directions. He pulls out his phone and quickly sends a text, not allowing himself to feel the pressure of the moment. 

I’m glad you picked me too, Lou. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.💚

🍑 L 🍑

Louis is nervous. Far more nervous than he’s ever been before and far more nervous than anyone should be for a first date, he thinks. And isn’t that just the most dramatic thought he’s ever had? The thing is, although he’s done the show before, this feels like uncharted waters. He feels as though he’s mapping out new territory with Harry, as he’s out walking the streets of London and trying to clear his mind.

Yes, he has seen a fella naked before a first date, clearly that bit is the same. But with Harry it feels like he hasn’t even begun to uncover the secrets of his beauty. Those secrets that are whispered within the depths of Harry’s soul lie far deeper than the silky surface of his skin. Louis has a feeling very few humans, if any at all, get the chance to discover those secrets. He’s hoping that Harry allows him the opportunity to listen and to learn them and to in turn allow Harry to learn his secrets. 

Therein lies the rub. It’s been incredibly hard for Louis to open up to anyone besides Zayn since Blake, and Zayn was only a mate. The thought of letting the fence down and allowing someone to pick at and possibly pierce the tenderest parts of Louis was terrifying. He knew he was closed off emotionally, but for whatever reason he felt like maybe Harry was different. Maybe Harry would be the one to help him feel safe enough to share his own skeletons in the closet, but then again maybe he’s getting a bit ahead of himself. Thankfully he doesn’t have to ponder that bit too much for their first date, but the fact that he’s going on another televised first date is enough to overanalyze and think about for a lifetime. 

What is even the protocol for this sort of thing? Last time it was all sort of a big joke to Louis. He’d done the show on a dare so it was all very happy go lucky for him going into the date with a devil may care attitude. He had liked Chris and thought maybe he saw a glimmer of potential with him before the bottom had dropped out from underneath him. Louis shudders, not even wanting to think about Chris right now. He should be focusing on Harry. 

A smile starts to grow on his face at the thought of the lovely man as his feet continue pounding the pavement of the sidewalk. What would Harry like? Would a gift be too much? Chocolates are overdone, flowers too. Should he get Harry flowers, though? If Louis was a betting man, and he so fucking is, he’d bet Harry would be the type who would like flowers. A smile starts to grow on his face at the thought of the way he’s sure Harry’s face would gleam at the sight of a beautiful bouquet of flowers. 

Should he text Harry and tell him how excited he is to see him later today? Does Harry need reminding of the location? What kind of outfit would Harry like to see him wearing? Well, more importantly what kind of outfit would Harry like to peel off of him? Oop! How did that thought get in there? It’s not that Louis is opposed to sex on a first date, it’s just– he feels the urge to do things differently with Harry. And not even the whole ‘putting the ball in his court and making sure this is a two way street’ type of thing, but just in general. Louis feels like his connection with Harry has already taken up residence in his gut, gripping onto his insides, and it’s telling him to take his time and let things grow organically. 

“Speaking of organically…” Louis spots a flower shop called ‘Organica Botanica’ and heads through the door to find some pretty stems to make Harry’s eyes light up while hoping to god they know that neither ‘organica’ nor ‘botanica’ are actual words. 

“Be with you in a moment!” A blonde head pops out of a doorway that Louis assumes leads to a stockroom. He didn’t even have time to tell them he didn’t need any help and he’d just grab one of the ready-made bouquets and be on his way. He’s casually looking at some pink flowers when the sound of footfalls and a slightly raspy voice come from behind him. 

“Hi! I’m Florence. Can I help you put something together?”

Louis turns around to find a petite, spunky girl with a septum piercing, perfectly winged eye-liner to accentuate her wide eyes, and a cropped head of blonde hair with slightly darker roots. Her clothes are effortlessly cool and she smells slightly like a mix of cigarettes and flowers which seems like a strange combination, but it’s not off-putting. He’s about to open his mouth to say ‘no, thank you’ when she speaks again.

“What’s the occasion?” Louis looks at her with confused eyebrows as if he’s communicating that her question was a bit invasive. “Ok, keep it to yourself then, killer. It doesn’t cost anything for my help though, and I saw you eyeballing those grab-n-go bouquets and I think that’s a big mistake because it communicates that you didn’t even try.” She tips her head and clicks her tongue as if to say ‘pity’. 

Louis looks at her like she just kicked him in the nuts. Granted, she kind of did, just with words. He has a feeling she does that to a lot of men. 

“So what would you pick out then considering you’re the professional?” 

“Depends on the occasion?” 

“Date.” 

“White hydrangea.”

“That’s really specific. Why?”

“They’re my wife’s favorite.” She winks at him. 

“I’m not dating your wife, though.” Louis purses his lips with sass. 

“I certainly hope not considering you like cock and I can assure you that she does not have one.” They both chuckle at her frankness as Louis wonders if his preference for men is that obvious. 

“What does he like?” She asks, her eyes twinkling and widening with the question.

“I don’t actually know.” Louis shrugs as her eyebrows raise, wrinkling her forehead. “First date.”

“Mmmm. You need tulips and ranunculus.” She gets to work assembling a small bouquet with light pink tulips and what Louis assumes are the ranunculus which are a beautiful swirl of a peachy orange and pink. “Alright, we need a pop of bright color to offset the blush tones. What say you, good sir?”

“Oh, you should pick, I’m not any good at this clearly.”

“Rubbish. You need to pick at least one of the components or you’ll never get a second date. It’s the rules.” She nods firmly at him, but a cheeky smirk is starting to creep across her face.

“Rules? What rules?” Louis’ bullshit detector is beeping furiously in his brain. He looks at her suspiciously. 

“The rules of dating according to the florist who clearly knows way more than you do about etiquette for date bouquets.” Her shit eating grin is super endearing but Louis’ not buying anything she’s selling…well, besides the flowers, that is.

“You totally made that up.”  He shakes his head at her in disapproval and sighs. “How about the purpley magenta ones.” 

“Lilacs! Lovely choice. This color symbolizes love and passion.” She smiles so sweetly, he almost forgets how much she’s busted his balls this entire shopping experience. He also resolves that he’s coming back to only this shop for flowers from now on because he loves her. “So where are you taking him?”

“We’re meeting at Conspiracy. Do you know it?”

She sucks air in through her teeth. “Yeah, I do. S’a bit pretentious and pricey and the cocktails are meh, if you ask me.” Louis’ face screws up in disgust and she seems to notice. “Oh bollocks, I’m sorry! You may like it.” 

“No offense taken at all, love. Wasn’t my choice, well– at least the location wasn’t.” He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, the tension practically pulsing under his fingers. She looks at him curiously. “You should come visit my establishment and I’ll make you an unpretentious, non-pricey cocktail.”

“You’re a bartender? I could see that, you’ve got great hands.”

“Yes, I work the bar sometimes and that’s how I started out, but I own it now. S’called End Of The Day.” 

“I’ve heard of it. Wait–” Her face melts into a shy smile, one corner of her mouth quirking up slightly. Louis waits for her to either laugh in his face or blush furiously and make a big deal out of him having been naked on TV, but the moment never comes. She just goes back to tying the twine securely around the craft paper she’s wrapped around the flowers with her tongue between her teeth, and with a flash she dips out from behind the counter and grabs some green wispy looking springs and starts adding them to the bouquet. “Shhhh, don’t tell the boss.” 

“Ohhh, do those cost extra? I don’t mind paying for them.”   

“Nonsense! They’re my ‘good luck’ gift to you!” She giggles as he smiles warmly back at her. 

“Oh! They represent good luck, then?” 

“No. They represent sex. I’m hoping if I get you laid you’ll become a repeat customer.” She laughs with her whole body, placing a hand on his shoulder, which makes Louis erupt into giggles as well. He pays for his bouquet and thanks her for her help before heading for the door, more confident and excited than nervous after the interaction. He leaves the flower shop feeling lighter and a bit more relaxed. He wondered if Florence had somehow sensed his nerves and poked fun at him a bit to distract him from his anxiety. If so, she deserves a raise.

Louis returns from his walk, proceeding into his flat and laying the bouquet on his kitchen counter, the brown paper crinkling under his touch as he releases it. He heads toward his bedroom, wondering how in the fuck he’s going to spend the next three hours until it’s time to meet Harry. The list of planned activities definitely includes a shower and a wank. Louis’ a big believer in the ‘There’s Something About Mary’ way of thinking that you have to get the baby batter off the brain before a first date. Perhaps a bit of sitting naked on the bed and staring into the abyss, contemplating his existence before he gets up and rifles through his wardrobe in search of a decent outfit, throwing clothes this way and that and screaming that he has absolutely nothing to wear. Yes, that all sounds like quite a fulfilling and productive way to pass the time. Louis passes through the bedroom, walking toward the ensuite. 

Might as well go ahead and get the anxious sweat and the nut butter headed down the drain to kick this party off. This may actually be the longest three hours of his fucking life simply because he has to spend it alone without all of those voices and their opinions helping him make these life-changing decisions. Well, at least it’s established that Louis isn’t being dramatic about any of this at all.

Approximately two hours and fifteen minutes later, Louis trudges down the street towards his destination, flowers clenched in his fist and swinging by his side, his heart rate rising with each step. Just before he crosses the street, he considers lighting up a cigarette to take the edge off, but he doesn’t want to smell like smoke in case Harry doesn’t like it. The facade to Conspiracy restaurant and bar looks just as pompous and bougie as Louis pictured when Florence had mentioned it wasn’t her cuppa. He’d never heard of the place, but then again, Louis’ not one to really focus on what his competition is doing. Really, he doesn’t even see other places as competition to begin with. There’s a right place out there for everybody, and if someone doesn’t like his, they should go find one that fits them better. He simply believes in providing the best products and service for his customers and there’s plenty of those to go around. 

He wished the production team had listened to him when he said he’d just host the date at his bar, but they had insisted that Louis might feel like he was at work and would be hesitant to let loose with his employees watching, so they opted for this stuffy looking joint. It feels all wrong for Louis and for his and Harry’s first date, but as long as he’s with Harry, well, then at least he knows the company and the scenery will be pleasant. Louis stills himself for a moment, his hand yet again hovering over a door pull except this time there’s no comrade here to talk him through taking the step. He fills his lungs with thick London air and slowly breathes out the jitters. Nothing to prove, nothing to lose, lad. And for the second time this week he plasters a charismatic smile across his face and engages the performer. 

🍆 H 🍆

“Tequila, neat. Extra lime, please.” Harry orders his drink from the bartender and looks down, anxiously checking his clothes again and fighting the urge to nibble at his freshly painted green nails. Harry had opted for a simple black pinstripe suit with flare cut trousers accessorized with his orange gumball necklace and leaving his hair down to fall around his shoulders. It felt like a bold choice in an outfit because he’d worn only a waistcoat underneath without a shirt. 

He had second guessed it for a bit, thinking going shirtless perhaps was a bit too forward for a first date, but then he’d decided that simply being himself was the best first– or second impression he could make. The idea of struggling to pick out clothes to wear for this seemed a little ironic to him considering the first time Louis had seen him he didn’t have a stitch of fabric on. Maybe if he’s lucky tonight that’s how the date will end, or at least that’s what Harry’s hoping for. 

Harry’s no stranger to desire where Louis is concerned. He’d be lying if he said Louis hadn’t starred in every fantasy and wet dream he’d had since Harry laid eyes on him on the telly, and it had been no different since Harry laid eyes on Louis in person. Of course he’s not going to rush anything or push Louis, but should Louis be down for a trip to Poundtown, Harry is not at all opposed. In fact, his bags are packed and he’s got a one-way ticket on the Poundtown express already.   

His phone buzzes on the bar in front of him so he picks it up quickly to find a text from Niall.

Ni: Have a great date tonight, lover! Get that 🍆 you’ve been dreaming about, but don’t forget to tell Louis. He deserves to know.☝️

Harry quickly texts back that he’ll tell him tonight for sure and double checks that his phone is set to vibrate, laying it back on the bar face down. He takes a sip of the fiery liquid the bartender just set in front of him, the slight burn in his throat a comforting reminder that this is all real and that Louis is going to be walking through the doors to this bar any minute and he’s going to be looking for Harry. He can’t tell if the turning in his tummy is from the tequila hitting his empty stomach or the excitement and anticipation of an evening spent with the human equivalent of a wet dream.

All of a sudden Harry’s eyes catch a figure breezing through the door and then everything is in slow motion like in a 90’s rom-com. Louis skims his gaze over the room before his eyes meet Harry’s and he smiles brightly in recognition of locking onto his target. Harry starts to hear the chimes signaling the beginning of “Dream Weaver” playing in his own brain. Louis’ wearing a knit polo shirt with a V design on the front separating the sienna tone of the bottom from the orange around the collar.

He looks over at the small camera crew across the room and wonders if they’re seeing this. And honestly who is he, because who the fuck looks that good in orange? No one can wear orange like that and pull it off like they were made to wear it. He cannot be human. 

Ooh, Dream Weaver 

I believe you can get me through the night

As he strides toward Harry, his eyes locked on him, a slight wind kicks up, touseling Louis’ hair and prompting him to reach up and swirl the front of his caramel waves back around in a sort of messy look. Wait a second, they’re indoors – where the fuck did the breeze come from? 

Ooh, Dream Weaver

I believe we can reach the morning light

Just before Louis reaches where Harry’s seated at the bar, a server passes in front of Louis almost bumping into him, breaking their eye contact for a moment and Harry’s grateful for the reprieve from Louis’ intense focus. Harry will admit he feels squirmy under the stare of those powder blues. He watches as Louis places a hand on the server’s elbow and says something to them and Harry’s never wanted to be an elbow more in his entire life. Harry stands up as Louis has almost reached him and takes another sip of his drink, praying for whatever deity is up there to make him calm, cool, and collected, but the prayers clearly fall on deaf ears or he’s prayed to the wrong God because a bit of liquid escapes his lips and starts to trickle down his chin. The accident forces him to jut his chin forward and attempt to catch the offending tequila stream with his hand.

“Careful there, love. I’ve only just arrived. No need to start leaking liquids just yet.” Louis adds a wink to his greeting, causing Harry to half choke on the tequila that he’d just swallowed as Louis started to speak. What comes out then is a mixture of a sputtering laugh and a cough, which is quite unattractive and also confusing.

For future reference, it is unsafe to drink liquids when Louis is talking.

Louis brings a hand around his shoulder to tap Harry on the upper back as he continues coughing. “Easy, darling, let’s save choking for the second date, shall we?” Oh God, Louis is trying to kill him. Another round of choking sounds escapes his throat. “You didn’t even tell me your safe word.” More hacking. Harry’s never going to breathe ever again at this rate.  

“Lou…” Harry croaks out. Louis just holds a glass of water out for Harry to take a sip and hopefully settle the strangling that’s occurring inside his esophagus. “Jesus Christ.” Harry finally articulates after the cool water washes the stinging out of his throat. “Stop being sexy, Tomlinson, I’m trying to live and breathe over here.” Harry’s voice is a bit gravelly, but he’s finally got the choking under control. Louis just laughs and pulls Harry into a warm embrace. 

Louis whispers into his ear, “There’s another joke in there somewhere about how I’ve taken your breath away but I’m gonna let that go for the sake of your health and well-being.” Harry had turned his nose slightly into Louis’ neck trying to sneakily breathe in his scent, but when he felt Louis’ lips on his skin again, even though it was only the shell of his ear, Louis’ joke about taking his breath away came to fruition. The air was caught in Harry’s lungs and he couldn’t even inhale Louis’ aroma properly. 

“I’m so sorry, guys, but we’re gonna have another go at filming that entrance, what with all the– choking. Can you do that again, Louis?” Harry glances at the production guy, Isaac, who’s approached them. He looks like he’s so nervous to ask that he might jump out of his own skin. 

“Awwww really, lad? That’s a pity, I was giving great face.” Louis laughs as he cards his fingers through the little spiral of waves on the front of his head. And yeah, he was in fact ‘giving great face’, but when is he not? 

“Ok, great. Just pop outside and count to five and then come back in for us, Louis, yeah? Harry just– try not to choke this time.” Isaac smirks a bit. Harry is unamused.

“Great. Thanks, mate.” Harry’s lips press into a hard line on his unimpressed face as Louis giggles while crossing back to the door to re-enact his entrance. 

“Oh oh, before we do this, Harry…” Louis trots back over to where Harry has seated himself back at the bar. “Just wanted to say you look stunning.” Louis grabs something Harry couldn’t see off the bar behind him and beams at Harry with bright eyes, smiling a soft, fond grin with his lips pursed in the shape of an upside down mountain. Harry can only blink before he’s beaming back and his eyes are sparkling in return. 

“Thank you, Lou. I– I meant to– to say it, but you look gorgeous too.” 

“You didn’t have to say it, Harry.” Louis leans into Harry so only he can hear the rest of his words, Louis’ breath misting warmly on Harry’s cheek right in front of his ear. “I can read your body. And it’s almost screaming my name.” Harry shivers at the contact and the words. Louis kisses Harry on the cheek, grins like the demon he is, and then turns to slowly jog toward the door. His arse in those jeans is almost as cruel a punishment as his continued teasing. 

They re-enact Louis’ grand entrance to Isaac’s satisfaction, Louis adding some dramatic flair to it with extra swishy hips in those fitted black jeans, after which they do the standard awkward first date hug. Louis then presents Harry with a gorgeous bouquet of lilacs and tulips and ranunculus and Harry questions whether or not he’d told Louis that lilacs were his favorite, before the crew gets them settled at a table. The staff had reserved one in the back for them so that people wouldn’t bother them with a billion questions about what they were filming. 

Once they’re finally sitting across from each other, perusing the menu, Harry’s trying really hard not to be too obvious about how badly he just wants to stare at Louis. The table is intimate and small and has them practically invading each other’s space already. Harry doesn’t mind the close quarters. You’d have to be an idiot to ever complain about being able to smell Louis’ clean scent and to feel the warmth radiating from him. Occasionally, during his brief glances in Louis’ direction, he catches Louis making a face at something he’s reading on the menu and Harry wonders if Louis owning his own bar has turned him into a drink snob. It would fit, considering how judgy he had been about Luke’s choice of favorite cocktail, but Harry doesn’t really fucking blame him because one should always feel free to be judgy of a jizzpuddle like Luke.  

“Do you not see anything you like, Lou? I’m sure they could probably make you something specific if you wanted.” Of course Harry dives right into how he can remedy Louis’ dislike of the menu. It’s always his tendency to want to make people feel comfortable and he feels that urge even more so with Louis. 

“No, no, it’s perfectly ok, love. I’m usually a beer drinker anyway so I’ll probably just have a pint.” Harry tries not to let the term of endearment go to his head. He knows Louis calls a lot of people ‘love’, but Harry wants to feel like it’s different when it’s him - as if it’s just for him. Harry decides he’ll just have another neat tequila, setting down his menu so he can focus on Louis. Louis’ already set his menu down and he starts to look around at their surroundings for the first time. Harry notices Louis visibly flinch when he catches sight of something on the wall behind Harry. Harry doesn’t turn around to look, not wanting to draw attention to his noticing Louis’ behavior, but then Louis’s eyes widen and he whistles loudly, puffing out his cheeks as if to signal his disbelief at the display over at the bar where the bartender is throwing a bottle of liquor around in a very showy fashion. 

“You just– I’m so sorry if this is out of line, Louis, but is everything ok?” Louis seems caught off guard at the question. 

“I–  Yes, but I don’t–” Louis takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to sound like a twat.” They both laugh, breaking a bit of the tension. “Harry, have you ever gone to a restaurant and the menu was just horribly designed and none of the dishes made sense and the decor was awful and the whole thing just read as ‘trying too hard’?” 

Harry snickers. “Yes, I think I’ve been to that restaurant before, Louis.” 

“Mmmm, well I’m sorry you’ve had that experience as well, but I am currently having that experience right now. This place is a mess and I just want to jump behind the bar and help them fix it.”  Louis starts to laugh and Harry joins him because he gets it being a restaurateur himself. 

“You know, I wondered why we didn’t just meet at End Of The Day.” 

“Well, Production said that they didn’t want me to feel like I was at work, but truthfully, I think I feel way more at home at my bar than anywhere.”

“I can definitely relate to that. Sometimes I feel like I might as well just put a cot in the back of Daylight and sleep there. It’s easy to feel the most at home at the place where you get to express yourself and your creativity, I think. Daylight reflects so much of who I am and I’m sure End Of The Day is the same way for you.” 

“Thank you for not saying or alluding that I’m just a glorified bartender,” Louis mumbles. Harry can’t hide the surprise that crosses his face because WHAT? Why would anyone say that to an absolutely brilliant business owner and leader like Louis? Harry hasn’t even been to his spot since he took over, but he’s read the reviews on-line and seen pictures of it. People’s posts say the most wonderful things about the atmosphere Louis has been able to create. Harry wants to find whoever insulted Louis and send them a flaming bag of dog shit that explodes into a glitter bomb. “Feeling the most at home at our places of business. What would our therapists say about that?”

Harry chuckles. “I think there’s something to be said about Daylight also being the place where I receive not only the most praise and validation but also the most criticism and doubt.”

“Oof. Talk about a therapist’s wet dream. I hear you, though. It seems like owning a restaurant or a bar, or any business, when it’s your whole life, it’s kind of like having a kid. It’s like…it brings to light all your insecurities and your faults, but you also love it more than anything in the world. You pour all of your sweat, your blood, your very own DNA into it and watch it grow and become this thing that’s so much bigger than you. And if you’re not careful you can get lost inside of it and shut out everything else that’s not tied into it.” There’s a moment of recognition between the two men. Their gazes meet and Harry can see that Louis and he have silently acknowledged common ground.

“Isn’t it kind of funny that you’re a gentleman of the night and I’m a gentleman of the day?” Harry giggles realizing what he’s just said.

“Did you just call me a gigolo?” Louis practically guffaws. 

“No. No, Lou! Oh my GOD, let me explain.” 

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with sex work, in my opinion, but for all I know Harold, you might be an old fashioned conservative granny judging my filthy tart ways. Do let me know if that’s the case, because I’m going to need to cancel some of my plans for you.” Louis winks and laughs again as Harry hides his face in his hands half laughing and half reeling from the embarrassment. 

“I meant that you’re usually busy at night, and I’m busy in the mornings. Even the names of our places…Daylight and End Of The Day. They’re sort of opposites.”

Louis smiles warmly. “Are you trying to say that I’m the moon and you’re the sun? How very new age of you.”

“Actually, I’m trying to say that we complement each other. We’re counterpoints.”

“Counterpoints.” Louis’ eyes crinkle at the edges as a smile seeps in like honey. Harry smiles back, unable to prevent the ache in his face, yet again, from how much he’s been smiling the entire conversation. 

“Also…if we’re talking about celestial bodies, you’re definitely the sun, Lou.” Harry can tell Louis’ fighting off another smile, but he notices how incredibly beautiful Louis’ face is even when he’s trying to hide his joy.   

“I supposed you would be the moon then, hmm? Makes sense. The moon is more romantic…more mysterious, maybe?”

“No– I mean, you’re right…I would be the moon but not because I’m more anything. The sun re-charges everything, signals a new day. The sun and the light it brings makes things grow and flourish. But I’d be the moon because the moon reflects the light from the sun. The sun makes the moon shine and you– you make me shine so bright.” Oh God, that has to be the schmaltziest thing he’s ever fucking said. Louis is going to have quite a laugh at him. 

Instead Louis looks at Harry like he’s the brightest constellation in the sky. His face is softened with awe and reverence despite the sharp edges of his jawline and his cheekbones. Harry wants to reach out and feel the warmth of Louis’ cheek underneath his fingertips. Louis leans forward and Harry thinks he might be leaning in to kiss him over the small table by the way Louis’ eyes are locked onto him, but instead he plants his palms on the table and gets up walking over to the production crew. Harry just waits patiently at the table, wondering what Louis is saying to Isaac. After a few moments of discussion Louis walks back over to the table and lays a few notes on the table.

Louis leans down close to Harry and whispers into his ear. “Want to get out of here?” Harry’s heart starts to hammer in his chest.

“Yeah.” Harry breathes out. Harry thought he’d never fucking ask.

Harry stands up, grabs his flowers and follows Louis toward the door, surprised that the cameras aren’t following them. “Louis, are we allowed to–?” He stops and  looks back toward the cameras, nervously and then back at Louis. “I mean– is the date over?” 

The realization of what Harry was asking seemingly dawns over Louis’ face. 

“Oh! Not hardly, love. Trying to get rid of me already?” Louis winks. “I just told Isaac that they had plenty of footage of our date already and that we wanted to continue on without the cameras, that’s all.” 

“Oh. So you–” Harry clears his throat. “...you want to continue with out the cameras?”

“Only if you want to? I mean, I guess I should have talked to you about it first.” Louis looks confused. It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to continue off camera but he’s a little bit nervous about the open ended potential continuing the date without cameras brings, if he’s honest with himself. 

Louis shrugs on his jacket once they reach the door and when both men look outside to find it absolutely pissing rain, they look at each other with raised eyebrows. 

“Should we make a run for it, Styles?” Louis grabs Harry’s hand. 

“I’m game, Tomlinson. Lead the way.” 

They burst out of the doors and start to run down the street toward the tube station. Harry thinks they must have underestimated the power of the leaking heavens as the wetness seeps into the both of them quickly. It doesn’t take long before they’re both completely soaked and their shoes are squelching. Thank God he chose to wear his gazelles today, because Jesus Christ is Louis’ pace demanding. Laughter starts to bubble up out of both of them as Louis’ tugging Harry along behind him. He didn’t think the tube station was that far away from where they were and yet with every step dousing them in a bucket of water from above it feels like it’s leagues away. 

Before he knows it, Louis is pulling him into the doorway of a little shop. “Why’d we stop? It’s not that much further.” Louis looks up at Harry through clumpy wet lashes, both of them still panting and trying to catch their breath. Louis’ absolutely drenched from head to toe and yet when Harry looks at him there’s an inextinguishable flame in his eyes. There’s only a moment of mindfulness on Harry’s part before Louis is pushing him back against the brick behind him and he haphazardly drops the soaked bunch of flowers onto the doorstep of the shop.

“I can’t wait anymore.” Louis looks determined to devour Harry and Harry wants to let him. His hand moves up to find Harry’s jaw, his nimble fingers resting just below Harry’s ear. Even with the cold spring rain soaking them through, Louis' palm is warm on his cheek, prompting Harry to tilt his face into the touch, his lips pursing slightly to plant a gentle kiss on the meat of Louis’ hand just below his thumb. When his eyes find Louis’ again all traces of him being chilled to the bone evaporate under the heat of Louis’ stare. Louis’ eyes drop down to Harry’s lips as he draws his bottom lip in between his teeth almost instinctively. Louis licks his own lips in response as his eyes travel back up to Harry’s. 

“What were you waiting for?” Harry whispers into the damp air of this stolen moment.

Louis looks back at him thoughtfully. “I was waiting until it felt like this was ours and only ours.” 

Harry’s thumbs press into the flesh above Louis’ hips, under his jacket where the wet fabric is clinging to his torso. Louis leans his face in and just barely brushes his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth and Harry puckers his lips kissing the edge of Louis’ lips in response. A tiny graze of a kiss is what starts a succession of small soft pecks until their lips are aligned and they’re fully connected by their searching mouths. 

The kiss starts out soggy and slippery, but Louis' wet skin is warm under his hands. They’re in a cramped space that smells a bit like the mildew from the showering heavens and Harry’s socks are wet and extremely uncomfortable, but Louis smells as fresh as an herb garden. Harry’s curls are dripping everywhere, more than likely matted to his head in the most unattractive way and he probably looks like a drowned rat, but his brain is fixed on the man he’s tasting. It’s Louis. And Louis tastes like the rain. 

Harry slips a hand under Louis’ shirt and splays his fingers across Louis’ back, wanting his prints on as much of Louis’ golden skin as he can manage. His other hand reaches up to tangle his fingers in the wet hair at the nape of Louis’ neck. First kisses are always a bit awkward and timid because you never know exactly how the other person kisses, however the clumsiness of Harry’s bigger mouth on Louis’ thin lips is swallowed up by each stirring flutter in his belly and each gentle caress of Louis’ fingertips across his cheek, down the line of his neck and then resting on the skin under his lapels. When Louis gently spreads his hand out on Harry’s chest with his palm directly over Harry’s heart, Harry melts further into his mouth, his tongue aching to know each and every flavor Louis’ has to offer.

They pull apart gently with a tender chaste kiss after God knows how long of exploring each other’s mouths. “God, I’ve waited days to do that.” 

I’ve waited years. 

Harry’s thoughts are a jumbled mess after all the kissing and he couldn’t tell you whether or not it was still raining or if people had passed by and seen them kissing in a doorway or even what kind of shop they’re completely blocking the entrance to, because his lips are deliciously tingling from kissing Louis and they’re so close that he can’t even tell whose wet skin is whose anymore. He just knows that he wants to continue kissing the man in front of him for as long as he’ll kiss him back.

Louis' hands are still cradling his jaw so Harry tilts his face into the touch once again, touching his lips to Louis’ hand just barely. “You’re so beautiful, Harry. I could look at you all day.” Louis touches another soft kiss to his lips. “I could kiss you all day.” He kisses him again and lingers there breathing the words into his mouth. “I have a feeling you’re gonna be bad for business.” They giggle into the next kiss. 

“Alright, I think the rain is letting up and we can’t stay in this doorway forever. Let’s go get you dry.”

“Mmmm, I’d rather be wet.” Louis groans and leans forward playfully biting Harry’s shoulder. 

“Well, then I guess we live in this doorway now.” Louis laughs and leans back in, sealing his lips back to Harry’s this time gripping Harry’s waist with both hands under his suit jacket, his thin waistcoat might as well be non-existent because he swears he can feel each finger digging into his skin. 

Harry pulls away first this time. “Lou, we should go. I think it’s getting darker which means it’s probably going to pour again and I think we’ve blocked the entrance to–” Harry looks at the sign above the shop door. “...Gerald’s Gifts and Gadgets for long enough, don’t you?” 

Louis snickers and takes Harry’s hand again to pull him out of the doorway. “Wait, Lou! My flowers!” Harry picks up the nearly disintegrated brown paper wrapped bouquet. It’s pretty much falling apart in his hands and the flowers look a bit worse for wear from all the jostling when they were running. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll buy you more.” Louis takes one of the ranunculus and snaps off the bloom, placing the shortened stem behind Harry’s ear. “Perfect.” Harry feels his cheeks warm under Louis' thumb as he slides it down his face then kissing his thumb and pressing it into Harry’s deepening dimple. Such a simple motion shouldn’t cause his heart to stutter so harshly, but it’s Louis, so of course he feels it in every corner of his body.

The walk to the tube station is not nearly as wet as they are. Louis was right and the rain had at least let up for the moment. It did feel like another downpour was looming, so Harry follows Louis in hopes that he’s not ready to leave Harry any more than Harry’s ready to leave him. 

“Fancy a drink, love?” Louis winks and Harry’s eyes light up at the thought of what Louis’ asking. He knows right away that Louis wants to take him to End Of The Day and he’s overflowing with excitement to see Louis’ place. He knows he’s been there before but that was long before Louis took over the bar and made it his own. Harry knows how much of himself he’s put into Daylight and how much a person can learn about him just by joining him for a brunch service. The time he’s spent obsessing over the bakery case and the centerpieces and the menus and the decor, and that’s not even including the food. He knows Louis has put the same amount of effort and work into End Of The Day. He could feel it, the familiar look in Louis’ eye telling him that End Of The Day was his baby. Harry was almost more nervous to see Louis’ bar than he would be to meet someone’s parents. At the same time he wants nothing more than to know Louis, and part of getting to know Louis is getting to see him in his element. 

Harry’s face erupts into a smile that he feels like is shooting starshine out his eyeballs. “Yeah, Lou. I’m suddenly feeling a bit parched.” Harry clears his throat, winking back before Louis leans in and kisses the jitters away. 

🍑L 🍑

Ok, Louis thought he was nervous before the date, but the idea of Harry seeing his bar, his lifeblood, proves to be a whole other level of nerves. He’s practically shitting dachshunds, he’s so fucking nervous. What if Harry doesn’t like it? Is this a dealbreaker? It certainly feels like one. Louis spends a lot of his life worrying about or planning for End Of The Day and he feels like it’s definitely not a coincidence that he hasn’t had a boyfriend or a partner since he took over the place. What will the balance of that be like, should things between Harry and him continue? Harry had brought up how their schedules were conflicting a bit, what would it look like to make time for each other? SO MANY QUESTIONS, you’d think Louis’ brain was competing with a goddamn census questionnaire. 

Well, at least they’d broken the physical barrier between them. Now he can kiss Harry anytime he wants - which he is certainly taking advantage of on the tube in front of a car full of passengers, as his brain spirals into the abyss of ‘what the fuck is happening’. He’s not usually one for PDA but he can’t seem to keep his hands, and his lips more specifically, off of Harry. Louis had always thought of himself as magnetic and able to charm the pants off of people while barely trying, but Harry’s appeal and charisma put his pathetic little alluring powers to shame. He manages to pry his lips off of Harry’s long enough to lead him off of the tube when they reach their stop. It’s just a short walk from the tube station to the bar and he holds Harry’s hand as they walk along without thinking twice about it. 

“I can’t believe I’m meeting your staff and your friends like this, Louis. I must look horrible.” 

“Hey, none of that now. Hair’s a little curlier than before, but I like it, love. You’re a knock-out no matter what, Harry. Seriously, it’s unfair to the rest of us.” The smile he gets in return is positively radiant.

“Oh, shut up, Lou. We both got drowned with rain and you look like you just left a photoshoot for GQ or something.” Louis chuckles, running his fingers through his wet hair, but scoffs in his mind at the compliment. Harry is obviously insane and cannot be trusted if he thinks he looks like shit right now when Louis isn’t even able to look at anything else. 

Once they reach the doors of the bar Harry stops for a moment and puts his hair up into a messy bun, sliding the flower back behind his ear. Louis hopes it isn’t because he remarked on how it was curlier than usual. Louis raises his eyebrows at Harry as if to ask if he’s ready and Harry smiles hesitantly in return. Louis hadn’t even considered that Harry might be nervous to see his place of business and meet his staff. It’s not like El and Steve and the others are intimidating, but after the conversation they had earlier about the importance of Daylight and End Of The Day, he has a feeling that Harry’s going to have a bit of anxiety about it. 

“Hey.” Louis takes Harry’s hand in his own again once he’s done fiddling with his hair and his clothes. “Nothing to prove, nothing to lose. Right?” Louis watches as Harry’s shoulders ease their tension and the furrow in his brow melts away at the mantra. He nods and squeezes Louis’ hand a bit tighter in response before they walk through the doors. They enter to the sound of whoops and cheers. Louis notices right away that it’s Steve and Krystle behind the bar leading the round of applause. Louis looks over at Harry to find him looking a bit worried still, but he also looks like he’s trying to stifle a giggle so that’s a good sign. 

The bar is pretty full tonight. Lots of familiar faces beaming at Louis and some raising their drink to him. This is exactly what he’d always envisioned when he’d dreamed about having his own bar to run years ago. He loved the idea of having a place where people could go and be themselves with their chosen company and a staff who felt more like an extension of their group of mates. It was not only a place where people could find acceptance and camaraderie, but also some renewal and freedom. That’s what it represented for Louis, anyway.

Louis keeps his eyes trained on Harry as Harry looks around, taking in the atmosphere of Louis’ world. Louis can’t help but notice the small grin etched on Harry’s face as he admires the different groups of patrons scattered about laughing, chatting, and unwinding at their tables with their cocktails. Louis can’t help but notice how beautiful his profile looks in the warm lighting from the Edison bulb chandeliers (they were Louis’ favorite feature for a reason), and how his eyes twinkle with wonder as he soaks up all of the details.

Harry returns his focus to Louis with a full blown blindingly beautiful smile that could put a field full of fireflies to shame.

“LOUIS AND HARRY SITTIN’ IN A TREE K-I-S-S-I–” Steve’s voice is loud and booming through the entire place, and even with the Alabama Shakes playing in the background Louis is sure you can hear him in every corner of the bar. Jesus, Louis’s never getting a second date at this rate he thinks.

“Alright, alright, that’s quite enough of that, Stevie.” Louis chides as they approach the bar, taking two unoccupied seats.

“What kind of manager would I be if I didn’t celebrate your first date in YEARS?” 

“Christ on a cracker, it has not been YEARS.” Louis shakes his head. Harry’s just staring at him wide-eyed like he has no idea what to do with his hands. Meanwhile Brittany Howard’s soulfully singing about how you’ve got to hold on and Louis doesn’t think there’s ever been a more appropriate song for this moment. 

“Can confirm. It’s been at least eleven months. Almost a year.” Krystle chimes in. 

“You guys are both fired.” Louis jokes with them.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Heard that one before, boss. Enough with the human resources talk, introduce us to Rapunzel here.” Harry nervously touches the flower still behind his ear. At this point it will be a miracle if Harry ever talks to him again.

“Actually, I’d prefer to be Ariel if you don’t mind.” Louis' head snaps in Harry’s direction at the sound of the playful tone of his voice. 

“Ahhhh, I should have known. Could totally see you as a mermaid, mate. I’m Steve, by the way.” Steve reaches out his hand to shake Harry’s while Louis is still shocked at the gumption Harry displayed a few seconds ago. 

“I’m Krystle. We’ve heard all about you. And Louis was spot on, you do have lovely eyes!” 

“Hi. M’Harry and thank you so much. That’s very kind!” Harry reaches out to shake her hand as well.

“He didn’t say Harry had lovely eyes, Krys. Get it right at least! He said his eyes were as fresh as sprigs of spearmint. Quite poetic, if you ask me.” 

“Oh, God. Nobody did– ask you, by the way.” Louis just hides his face in his hands. He doesn’t want to see Harry’s reaction to his words. “Are you guys even going to ask us what drinks we want or am I just paying you to make an absolute tit out of me today?” Louis asks the question with his face still in his hands, still unable to look at anyone after being called out for his simping over Harry. He knew they were gonna give him shit and he was prepared for that, but he wasn’t quite prepared for how embarrassed he would be over how much he’s talked about Harry the last few days. 

“Sprigs of spearmint, Lou?” he hears Harry’s voice whispering in his ear. He’d get hard because of it if Harry weren’t giving him shit as well. Louis finally looks up and into Harry’s eyes to find the mirth waiting for him. Harry doesn’t look embarrassed or annoyed at all, he looks endeared and amused. Well, thank the heavens for that. 

“I just– I like spearmint. That’s why it’s featured in two of my drinks on the specialty menu.” Harry glances down at the menu Krystle had placed in front of him at some point.

“I will not feel guilty about my love for spearmint.” Louis crosses his arms across his chest, playing up his fake pout.

“I actually think I’ll have the one on the chalkboard. Cocktail of the week? An ‘On Fire Babe’, please.” Harry looks up at Krystle. Oh– oh no. Well, as long as he doesn’t know the thought behind it, Louis supposes, he should be able to avoid further humiliation.

“Ohhhh. Excellent choice, Harry. You should ask Lou here what–” She coughs really exaggeratedly. “...inspired it.” She looks back at Louis knowingly, shit eating grin stretching from ear to ear. Harry turns toward Louis with a devilish smirk and an expectant look, eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline.

“I just– I like…blue. And– and fire. That’s all.” Louis runs a hand through his wet mess of hair on his head. This was a terrible idea. He should have just spent the rest of the date at that horribly bougie excuse for a bar to avoid this display of relentless taunting from his staff WHO ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HIS FRIENDS, THE JERKS.

“Heyyyy, what’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” Louis hears a familiar warm voice say. His eyes follow it to find Liam wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulders just as he feels Zayn’s arms encircling his shoulders from behind him. Oh thank God, Liam and Zayn to the rescue!

“Watch it, pal. Don’t get too handsy…I know the owner.” Harry jokes back with Liam, winking at Louis.

“A bucket of shit worth of good that’ll do ya.” Zayn laughs as he kisses Louis on the cheek playfully. 

Louis takes a drink immediately after Steve sets his usual pint on the bar in front of him. “Could we not talk about buckets of shit in my bar, I do have paying customers.” Louis wipes the excess moisture from his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes catch Harry’s tracking the motion.

“Table five needs another round, Steve-O. Oh–” Eleanor pops up right beside them, leaning over the bar to put her order in before Louis knows it. “Hey, Louis.” Her eyes shift to Harry, staring him down from head to toe and then narrowing slightly before she quickly turns her gaze back to Steve. Louis notices Harry shrink into himself a tiny bit under her glare. Crush or no crush, she doesn’t get to do that to him. He’s not going to embarrass her right now, but he’ll absolutely have words with her later about it. In the meantime he reaches over, taking Harry’s hand and lifting it to his lips to give a couple of gentle knuckle kisses for reassurance. The simple gesture seems to do its job as Harry breathes a little sigh. 

“Oh God, Li, did you see that? Knuckle kisses. They’re already more disgusting than we are.” Zayn giggles leaning back into Liam. 

Liam turns his face into Zayn’s cheek and loudly whispers, “We won’t go down without a fight, Z, I think we can take ‘em.” He kisses Zayn’s cheek, as they laugh together. Louis’ never seen Zayn so happy. It brings a smile to his face to see his best mate find what he suspects they’ve both been looking for. 

Louis looks at Harry before they both turn to Zayn and Liam putting their hands up, palms facing out. “We surrender.” The foursome laugh and joke and have a few too many drinks and before Louis realizes it it’s almost half past eleven. He hadn’t really been nervous about Harry meeting his friends. If anything, Louis had felt more anxious about his friends making Harry feel uncomfortable, but any worries were gone with the wind. Harry fits perfectly in his world. 

Louis’ stomach growls loudly and he looks down at his belly then back up to Harry’s wide eyes. “Sorry. I forgot to eat before we met earlier and then we came straight here, so I guess I’m hungry.” Harry looks suspicious. 

“You forgot to eat? How does that even happen?” Louis notes that Chef Harry Styles looks appalled. 

“Well– more like I was too nervous to eat.” 

“Alright then. Let’s say our goodbyes.” Harry gets up from his seat at the bar and rights his suit jacket. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes, yes right now. I’m feeding you. And before you try to protest, I’m warning you that you never ever turn down a professional chef of my caliber when he offers to feed you, Tomlinson.” Louis practically leaps out of his seat because Harry offering to feed him means that Harry doesn’t want to end the date yet either which is great news for Louis. Also, he really wants to see how sexy Harry looks in an apron or a chef’s jacket or whatever the man wears when he cooks. Christ, the wanking he’s done to different fantasies of Harry in the kitchen the last few days– he’s absolutely depraved–or possibly just weak for a gorgeous man with a whisk in his hand– or both. 

They say their goodbyes and head out the door to make a run for the tube before it stops service for the night. They’re almost to the station when Harry pulls Louis into an alley and backs him up against a wall for a passionate kiss. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” Louis says, pulling off of Harry’s demanding mouth with a smack. “We only have like ten minutes, love, the tube…”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, Lou. And if we only have ten minutes left until we both leave our glass slippers on a stair, then I want to spend them kissing you.” Harry’s eyes gleam with unspoken words that only Louis can hear. His lips find Louis’ again, his thumbs moving over Louis’ cheekbones. They pull apart reluctantly, joining their hands once again and jogging toward the station. Louis does the best he can to pick up the pace to a jog, but the semi-situation in his pants makes it a bit difficult. 

🍆H 🍆

They made the tube. Just barely, but Harry doesn’t regret a thing. You try keeping your mitts off of Louis when you’re allowed unlimited access. It’s so much easier said than done. Harry’s trying so hard to be good and to keep his slutty thoughts in his brain where they belong, but he’d be a filthy liar if he said he hasn’t been picturing getting Louis into his bed all night long. His mum had always told him as a general rule, ‘If you can’t be good, then at least be good at it’ and Harry is leaning a bit more toward being very good at whatever Louis’ up for. 

The connection he’d felt with Louis from the first moment he saw his episode was SO much more intense now that Louis was tangible. He was no longer just a face and a body on a screen, he was right here in flesh and bone and Harry felt the tethers pulling him to Louis deep in his veins and in his marrow. This was especially true now that Harry felt like he had seen a glimpse of the face behind the mask. 

Louis had let the facade slip a couple of times that night and Harry had been thankful he was there to see the man behind the curtain. He knew that shedding the pretense Louis has been putting up for so long wouldn’t be easy and that it would take time. Harry has a feeling that Louis needing to keep the performance in place was for his own protection, his way of putting up a guard. He also has a feeling that it has something to do with the ex Niall had mentioned. And that was yet another thing he was mulling over in his mind.

Harry knows at some point he’s going to have to talk to Louis about the whole ‘Niall getting him on the show’ and the whole ‘he’s a total fanboy when it comes to Naked Attraction’ and the whole ‘watching Louis’ episode 369,000,000 times’ thing and the earlier text from Niall had brought it to the forefront of his mind. That’s gonna be one embarrassing conversation. It’s not like he’d been intending to keep it a secret from Louis indefinitely, it’s just that he’s worried that Louis would get the wrong idea about his intentions and he wants to find the perfect time to bring it up. He doesn’t want Louis to think he’s been at any kind of disadvantage or that he didn’t have all the information while making his decision. 

Louis really didn’t have all the information, sadly, but hopefully he can look past that considering how genuine of a connection they had so far. Also, maybe it will help that Harry will essentially be gushing about how obsessed with Louis he is? That’s enough to make a man forgive you if you basically confess your undying desperation to be with them forever and give them all the sex and brunch and baked goods and babies that they desire, right? Ok, so maybe he should write Louis out a coupon for free pastries for life or something to sweeten the pot. Excellent plan, Styles. 

“Here we are, Lou.” Harry stops to unlock the doors to Daylight so he can whip them up something delicious to fill their alcohol sloshy bellies. Strangely he doesn’t feel nervous for Louis to see his restaurant. It does feel like letting Louis in on a little piece of him, but he wants to encourage and foster that feeling of safety in sharing between them. Perhaps if he continues being open with Louis, Louis will want to be open with him in return. Before they proceed inside he turns to Louis and takes both of his hands. “I’m really grateful I got to experience End Of The Day tonight, Lou. Thank you so much for sharing such a big part of you with me. I think it’s brilliant and I’m not at all surprised because you crafted it and I know you’re brilliant. It took a lot on your part to bring me there on our first date and I don’t take that for granted. Sooooo…” Harry’s eyes shift over to the doors they’re standing in front of as Louis giggles and rolls his eyes at Harry’s dramatics. “I want to share a piece of me, too. This is my baby. Welcome to Daylight.” 

They walk inside the dark space and Harry walks to the wall behind the bakery counter and starts to flip on all the lights.

He turns back as quickly as possible so he can see Louis’ face the minute the space is illuminated. He wants the raw reaction from the man he’s learning to admire and adore and he’s not disappointed.

Louis is quiet but the genuinely sunny smile that crosses his face as he takes in the warmth and comfort of the atmosphere Harry has tried desperately to convey in this space is nothing short of spectacular. It’s heartwarming watching Louis walk around in this place he’s worked so hard for, inspecting every component of the room from the lighting to the signage to the tablecloths to Harry’s plethora of plants scattered about. 

Curating a mood and a vibe while catering to the many different ideas and expectations of his patrons and his friends and family is something Harry’s been practicing since he had the idea to open up a brunch and bakery restaurant. Ultimately he had learned who he could listen to for sound advice and who he needed to turn the volume down on, but he’d also learned that this place was his and that his voice was the one that mattered most.

Louis stops in front of the large carved wooden sign against the whitewashed brick wall featuring the restaurant’s name, a sun, and a bluebird. “Why Daylight?”

“Why End Of The Day?” Harry smirks at him with a challenge in his eyes. “You did ask first so I’ll kindly oblige.” Harry crosses to stand next to Louis, looking up at the sign as if it will tell the name’s origin story for him. “It kind of came from my belief that everything looks different in the Daylight. Sometimes the darkest nights are followed by the brightest mornings and during those nights all you can do is wish for the daylight to come. I know that sounds way too deep for a brunch cafe and a bakery but that’s where the name was born from. And it sort of fit with the whole ‘only open for brunch’ thing.” Harry swirls his hand around in the air in a sort of ‘whatever’ fashion.

When Harry looks back to Louis he finds his expression soft and kind. “That’s really lovely, Harry. The sentiment behind the name, I mean. The story behind End Of The Day is not as lovely of a sentiment, I’m afraid.” Louis scrunches up his face like he doesn’t really want to tell the story. “Come on, Chef. Come show me your kitchen.” Harry’s not going to push it so he starts walking back toward the kitchen flipping the rest of the lights on once they’ve crossed through the doorway. 

 Louis once again takes in the details of the room, not that there’s anything extraordinary about the standard commercial kitchen. Harry opts to don a regular apron as opposed to his normal chef’s jacket he wears during service and begins removing his rings one at a time and placing them in a dish next to the sink before washing his hands. In the meantime Louis has lifted himself up onto one of the countertops, his legs swinging as he leans back. His weight resting on his hands extended behind him making the veins pop out in his arms. He looks edible to Harry. Like the only thing in this kitchen worth eating.

"Alright, what are you feeding me, chef?” Harry’s not gonna lie, Louis calling him ‘chef’ makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

Harry throws an apron at him. “You mean what are WE making?” 

“Oh God, no. That’s a terrible idea, love. I’m useless in the kitchen.” Oh, he’s far from useless as far as Harry’s concerned. Louis’ currently making excellent use of himself in the pleasing scenery department in Harry’s opinion.

“You can at least cut fruit for us, yeah? I’ll walk you through it so you don’t lose a finger.” 

Harry strides over to the walk in, grabbing a tray of pastries and a basket of assorted sliced fruit. He sets them on the counter and preheats the oven to get it ready for the buns. 

“Oooooooo, what are those?” 

“I call them Silver Tongue Cinnamon swirls.” 

“Silver Tongue? Are they named after a car salesman? Or a politician?” Louis’ eyes twinkle aside his teasing tone.

“Actually, they’re inspired by you.” Harry says matter of factly. After all, why should he be anything less than completely open and honest with Louis now? Louis’ eyes widen in surprise at the words.

“Me?” 

“Mhmm. A silver tongue isn’t always a bad thing, Lou. It just means that a person is really persuasive. It could be used for dirty deeds for sure, but I think it can be used for good too.” Harry slides the baking sheet full of rolls into the oven with care.

Louis seems to consider Harry’s words for a moment, a look of confusion still etched across his face. “But why cinnamon buns?” 

Harry giggles. “It’s silly, but it’s because of your hair.”

“My hair?” Louis runs a hand through his now dry but fluffy hair that’s soft around his face.

“Yeah. The day we met you had it styled in a little swirl. Today too, before the rain ruined it. And I also– Well, you’ll see when they’re finished.” 

Louis appears to take in the information thoughtfully, nodding with a little smirk as he hops down off the counter, tying on the apron. Harry grabs the cutters out of their designated bin on the shelf and lays all the different shaped gadgets out for Louis. 

“What are these?” 

“They're my fruit cutters.” Harry says matter of factly.

“You don’t just use a knife?” 

“What would be the fun in that?” 

“Do you do this for every customer?” Louis looks aghast at the notion.

Harry nods. “I know about how much we go through in a shift, so the first thing I do in the morning is prepare and cut all the fruit for the day.”

“Sweet Jesus, do you not have a sous or a…designated fruit chef who can do it for you?”

Harry chuckles. “I like doing it, Lou. I know it’s a menial task and I could easily delegate it to one of my staff, but I like having something to focus my energy on to start my day. And it makes people smile when they see their watermelon cut into stars and their pineapple cut into hearts. I like knowing that I had a hand in those smiles as well as the smiles after they’ve tasted their perfectly made eggs and their sweet potato hash. The fruit smiles somehow mean more because of the simplicity of what they’re smiling about. S’like there’s more sweetness in the simplicity. I don’t know. Maybe it’s silly but–” Harry turns the stove on and dumps some sugar and butter into a saucepan to start the caramel sauce. 

“It’s not.” Harry stops stirring and looks over at Louis, watching him cut the cantaloupe into flowers. “It’s not silly at all, Harry. If anything, I think it’s really special how much you love making people happy.” Louis stops cutting the fruit and looks back at him. “That’s rare. Or it is in my experience at least. Bringing joy to people in little things.” Louis gestures to the bowl of fruit. “It’s…refreshing.” Harry smiles at him briefly and turns back to stirring his caramel sauce. “My ex…he– He was the reason I named my bar End Of The Day.” Harry looks over at Louis after quickly removing his perfectly smooth caramel sauce off the hob, wanting to give Louis his full attention. Harry can’t help but notice how small Louis looks all of a sudden. “He was really nasty to me. Said the most horrible things about me and about my family that I don’t even want to repeat. Used to berate me almost daily because he was so unhappy with himself.” 

“Oh, Lou…” Harry’s eyes have already started filling with tears after just a couple of sentences. He places a soft hand on Louis’ shoulder, just to remind Louis of his presence. An act of gentle support.

Louis continues cutting the fruit. Harry suspects he needs something to focus on while he’s talking about something so painful. “He was constantly putting down my profession because he was a big shot in real estate. He would talk shit about how I barely contributed to paying rent and my half of the expenses. Used to say that I was just Donny trash. One of the things he used to say all the time was ‘At the end of the day, Louis, you’re nothing but a bartender.’” Harry’s heart lurches at the harshness of that statement. He can barely stomach the thought of how that must have hurt Louis. “So when I took over the bar and made it my own– when I really made something of myself…I decided to take that statement and make it mine again. It was sort of part of taking my power back.” Harry remains silent, deciding to let Louis speak his truth uninterrupted. “I’m glad I did it. Glad I named my place that because now it makes me feel pride and honor where it used to make me feel shame and self-hatred.” 

Harry’s dead still, staring at this man who is so strong and so brave and he doesn’t seem to have any idea about his own capability. No wonder he puts up a front and shields himself like a guard and has built a wall so high– to protect himself. Harry doesn’t blame him one single bit. Louis just keeps cutting the fruit. The bowl is practically overflowing, the smell of the sweet melons and berries filling the space around them. 

“Lou.” Louis keeps cutting, still not looking at him. He wonders what Louis is afraid to find in his eyes. 

“Hmm?” 

“Could you stop cutting the fruit for a second and look at me? I think we have plenty of mango butterflies now.” Louis sighs, finally stilling his hands. When his eyes reach Harry’s face, Harry notices that he looks so delicate. Fragile almost. Harry hates Louis’ ex for leaving such a beautiful man swimming in the wake of his trauma. It’s so fucking unfair. “Thank you for trusting me with that. I know it took a lot for you to relive something so hurtful and I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through, but I want to say that I’m in awe of your strength and your courage. And not because…how did you put it? You really made something of yourself? I mean, that’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but what I’m really in awe of and marveling at is your resilience and your commitment to healing. To survive something like that when so many people haven’t, it’s just absolutely miraculous and I’m so, so fucking glad that you did…survive. And I know that you did more than survive and to have turned those words into something that helps you feel in control– something so significant, well, I just think you’re remarkable. Amazing.” 

Harry leans over and gently places a kiss on Louis’ cheek. His only intention is to show Louis that he cares and to feel the softness of Louis’ skin under his lips again. 

“Mmmm. Smell that? They’re ready.”

“But the timer hasn’t even gone off yet.” Louis observes.

“I can just feel it. Trust me?” Harry raises his eyebrows with the question.

Louis hesitates. “Yeah– yeah, I do.” Harry thinks Louis’ words extend to more than just baking time. Louis leans in and gives him a quick peck on the lips that leaves Harry yearning to taste Louis’ mouth again. But his empty tummy is crying out for sustenance, so he reluctantly turns back to the oven, sliding on his oven gloves, and removing the perfectly baked cinnamon swirls, placing them on the stovetop to cool. 

“Now for the perfect topping. A lovely caramel drizzle for my caramel kissed muse.” Harry scrunches his nose at Louis who is now set aglow with fondness. He grabs the saucepan and a spoon and starts to slowly drip the sweet, thick liquid topping over the rolls. 

“I love a good topping.” Louis’ voice is laced with devilment.

Harry looks over to find Louis sporting a wicked grin and almost tips the entire saucepan of caramel over onto the buns. Two can play at that game. He finishes the caramel drizzle, sets the saucepan to the side and carefully places his finger under the spoon to catch a bit of the liquid. He watches as Louis’ eyes lock onto his finger, tracking the motion as he lifts it to his mouth and gingerly sucks the finger in between his lips, the taste on his tongue exploding with sugary and silky caramel. 

“Mmmm. Me too.” Harry shoots his own mischievous smirk back at Louis. 

Looks like the game is tied, folks! Oh great, Harry’s hearing sports announcers in his head now. That’s perfectly normal and not at all a cause to be alarmed. 

Louis reaches around Harry and dips his finger into the saucepan to get his own finger sauced up. He brings the finger up to take a small sniff of the caramel, his eyes not leaving Harry’s. “Certainly smells good.”

“Tastes even better.” 

“Think I can give it a run for its money.” Louis lifts his caramel covered finger to Harry’s mouth and rests it on his bottom lip as Harry’s tongue slides out to run along the side of his knuckle. Harry’s hands come up to cradle Louis’ hand gently, guiding the finger in and out of the heat of his mouth and adding another as Louis’ eyes are wrapped around the fingers pumping in and out, his tongue darting out of his own mouth to lick his lips. Harry’s beginning to stiffen in his pants at the feeling of Louis’ fingers thrusting into his mouth and the thought of replacing Louis’ fingers with his thick cock. Harry’s eyelids flutter closed as he groans lewdly at the images in his mind. The things he would do to this caramel drizzle of a man in front of him. He slides Louis’ fingers out one last time, kissing the tips one by one. 

“I’ll say.” Harry winks, dropping Louis’ fingers and licking a dribble of caramel that had escaped off the corner of his mouth.

“What are the chances you can make those cinnamon buns to-go, love?” There’s a hunger in Louis’ voice that Harry’s only just noticed.

“Why? Thinking about dining and dashing, Lou?” 

“No, no, love. I just really want to do unspeakable things to you, not involving food, and I really don’t think I should do them in your very important fancy-pants kitchen here. Definitely wouldn’t be sanitary.” Harry’s heart starts to flutter at what Louis’ implying as Louis backs him up against the counter, caging him in with both of his arms leaning his weight into the workstation behind Harry. “Besides, won’t your staff be along in a few hours? Oh fuck, Harry, do you have to work in the morning?”

Louis starts to back away but Harry catches him by the collar, pulling him back in before he leans back too far and spreading his own legs wider so he’d be the same height as Louis. “Relax, Lou, Sarah’s taking charge of service tomorrow. I made arrangements.” Harry smiles his sweetest smile. “I didn’t know for sure tonight would be an all night date but well…I was hopeful.” 

“Didn’t know for sure it would be an all night date, he says– from a man who looks and fucking smells like you do…” Louis runs his nose up Harry’s neck, his scruff tickling against Harry’s neck, sending chills down Harry’s spine. “...and kisses,” Louis leans forward resting his lips ever so lightly against Harry’s. “...like you do. Who wouldn’t want all night with you?” Louis kisses him again, this time applying a tiny bit more pressure with his insistent lips. “...all night and more?”

“Well, sometimes being presumptuous can come off as too eager. Unattractive, you know?” Harry shrugs as Louis kisses him again, this time slipping his tongue past his lips like he was searching for the remnants of the caramel in his mouth. Harry’s reveling in this conversation right now and the well placed kisses woven through it like they’re the most important words being spoken.

“Harry, I picked your naked body out of a veritable naked man buffet while being filmed for a television show and then I stripped down naked for you and the rest of the world to see. And you’re worried about being too eager?” Harry giggles. Louis definitely does have a valid point, though. 

Louis' stomach growls violently between them. They both look down at it, bumping their heads together which makes Harry cackle like a loon. 

“Ow, fuck!” Louis brings a hand up to rub his forehead. 

“Louis–” Harry continues laughing. “Are you–” He’s practically wheezing. “Ok?” He collapses into Louis’ neck laughing his arse off. He doesn’t know if it’s the remainder of the alcohol making the situation so funny or if he’s actually concussed.

“Come on, giggles. Let’s eat something and then I’ll walk you home like a proper gentleman.” Louis kisses his forehead where a tiny little bump is starting to protrude. Harry pouts internally at the thought that Louis may not actually want this to be an all night date. Words are one thing, but actions are another. He doesn’t know if Louis intends to spend the night with him or not, but he really, really wants him to. 

“And then you’ll get me a glass of water?” Harry starts kissing his neck.

“Of course, babe.”

“And tuck me in?” He brushes his lips over Louis’ carotid artery and starts to suck on the skin there.

“Mhmm.”

“And then you’ll fuck me nice and slow until I’m begging, crying for you to let me come?” Harry continues sucking on the reddened skin of his neck. Louis whimpers. Harry doesn’t know if it’s from his words or the mark he’s working on, but either way he can confidently say that his mouth caused Louis to make that sound. He’s pretty proud of that.

“Fuuuuuck, Harry. Pack up the–” Louis gasps as Harry presses into his neck with his tongue where a sensitive bruise now resides. “...food. I’m having you for a midnight snack.” Louis stands back as Harry adjusts his cock from where it is now fully tenting his trousers and from the feel of Louis pressed against him and a small glance downward, Harry can see that Louis is in a very similar state. Harry crosses to the other side of the workstation and starts packing up the food, grabbing a tote bag from the cupboard. “Oh and Harry…” Harry looks back at Louis as he’s fastening a lid on the fruit bowl. “Don’t forget to bring the extra caramel.” The corner of Harry’s lips quirk up in a crooked smile. Don’t worry, Louis, he couldn’t forget if he tried.

🍑L 🍑

“Fucking hell, Harry, this fucking mouth. I want it all over me.” Louis whispers into Harry’s lips before diving back into the wet heat waiting for him between them as Harry whimpers loudly in response. They’d barely made it in the door to Harry’s flat, pawing at each other and giggling and kicking off their shoes haphazard. Louis got stuck in his jacket while trying to get it off as quickly as possible and they both almost fell on the floor laughing, but once Harry had kicked the door to his bedroom closed, the silly and nervous energy from bumping into things along the way had instantly turned into unabated desire and a desperate need to consume each other. 

Pressed up against each other, both their bodies are heavy against the wall with only gravity and desire connecting them. Louis has Harry fenced in, alternating between working his mouth and his tongue down the column of Harry’s throat while Harry’s deft fingers curl into his hair. Louis is so lost in the taste of Harry that he doesn’t even register Harry’s hands moving down toward his waist, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head. “Your skin. Your skin is the color caramel wishes it could be.” Harry’s voice is as rough as limestone. He reattaches his lips to Louis’ and leans forward, moving Louis backward towards what Louis hopes is the bed. 

It’s the best of both worlds, the way they move with each other. Harry was onto something when he’d described them as counterpoints. Both of them ebb and flow so perfectly with the other’s energy. One moment Harry is soft and pliant under Louis’ touch and the next he’s forceful and demanding, maneuvering Louis whichever way he wants him, his tongue insisting its way into Louis’ mouth and taking his breath with it when Harry withdraws it. Louis didn’t care who had the control, he was just happy to be there, but it did feel nice to have both surrender and a say at his fingertips and on his lips. 

Once they’ve reached the edge of the bed they both just stand there continuing to relish the taste of each other’s mouths. Louis can still faintly taste the caramel from earlier. He considers himself a genius for snatching one of the cinnamon buns as Harry had been packing them up for them to nibble on during the walk to Harry’s flat. Harry shrugged off his suit jacket, throwing it over the chair in the corner of the room and began to unbutton his waistcoat. Louis smirked to himself and decided to start unbuttoning his trousers, shoving a hand inside to find a small wet patch on Harry’s pants. He stroked over the length of Harry’s stiff cock as Harry gasped, his breath catching fully in his throat as he was trying to unclasp his bead necklace. 

“Warn a guy– fuck– …would you?” His voice was shaky as Louis continued rubbing his hand over his bulge. 

“Sorry, babe. Thought with the whole fucking my fingers in and out of your mouth earlier, you’d be sufficiently prepared.” 

Harry continued kissing him like Louis was the air he was breathing while Louis wondered if he was always this intense in the bedroom. Harry reached down and unbuttoned Louis’ trousers, pushing them down and then sinking to his knees, all while keeping his eyes locked onto Louis’. Almost as if on reflex, Louis’ hand pulled the hair tie loose from Harry’s hair, watching as his dark brown locks fell around his face and over his shoulders. The cascading curls reminded him of thick maple syrup. Louis looked at Harry kneeling before him in disbelief of how beautiful he was. 

“This ok? You said you wanted my mouth all over you. Want that too.” Harry nuzzled into the thin fabric obstructing his aching cock, now obscenely tenting his boxer briefs. Louis could barely nod in response, the sensations almost too much to process. He sank his fingers deep into Harry’s curls, watching as Harry slipped his fingers into Louis’s waistband and slid his pants down to his ankles, supporting Louis’ weight as he stepped out of them. 

Louis watches as Harry’s eyes take in the sight of his cock, hard and leaking, in all its thick glory. Harry’s hooded eyes flit up to Louis’ with a diabolical grin just before he takes Louis’ dick in hand, sleeving back his foreskin and swallowing it down, deepthroating him until his nose is flush with Louis’ pubic bone. 

“Jesus fuck, warn– …a guy, would you?” Harry laughs with his lips still stretched around Louis. Little breaths puffing through his nose as the vibration surges through Louis’ nervous system. 

Harry pulls his mouth off, a trail of saliva connected from his bottom lip to Louis’ slit. “Sorry, Lou. Thought with the whole sucking your fingers down my throat like they were my favorite lolly earlier, you’d be amply readied.” 

It occurs to Louis right then and there that he might have met his match in Harry. The push to his pull. Yin to his yang. His counterpoint. 

Harry pushes Louis back until he’s sat on the bed and then knees up and settles between Louis’ legs, leaning forward, his hands resting on Louis’ thighs. Louis looks down to find Harry’s lips shiny and swollen, his eyes glassy and almost completely blacked out with lust as Harry slowly works his mouth and his hand back over Louis’ cock. The sight of Harry with his hair wild and his cheeks flushed, combined with how Louis can see his cockhead poking out of Harry’s cheek slightly, starts to spark a familiar heat in his belly. He moves his hand from Harry’s hair to Harry’s cheek and thumbs over where his cock is creating a bulge. Harry seems to notice Louis’ fascination and slows his motions which drives Louis even crazier with want. Louis closes his eyes and lolls his head back slightly, leaning back onto one of his hands when he feels Harry reach up and grab his other hand to slide it back into his hair. Louis’ not complaining until he pulls a bit at the curls to test the waters and the most debauched and yet muffled moan he’s ever heard sends aftershocks through his entire body from the quaking of Harry’s lips. He almost comes from the sound alone. 

“Harry, I’m– Mmmm… I’m really close.” Harry pulls back then and looks up at Louis with puffy pink lips. “Your mouth is like– Christ, it’s like it's made of sin or something.”

“Made of sin, hm?” Harry crawls up Louis’ body, Louis scoots back until he’s fully on the bed so Harry can straddle him. Harry connects their lips again, giving Louis a little taste of himself. “Think I’ll wait until tomorrow to get my mouth on the rest of you.” Harry reaches underneath Louis and cops a gentle squeeze of his arsecheek. 

“So much for not being too presumptuous.” Louis snickers while Harry presents a coy smile. Louis reaches up and pushes Harry’s curls behind his ears on both sides so that hair isn’t falling into his face as he’s looking down at Louis. 

“For tonight, if you’re up for it–”

“I’m up for whatever you are, love, if I haven’t already made that clear.” Harry pecks another tender kiss to his lips. It feels a lot like a thank you for some reason. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like– I like you.” Harry’s honesty in this moment sows a seed of something that quickly blooms in Louis’ chest. He smiles in response and the sweet expression on Harry’s face sends warm waves rolling and crashing inside of him. He just looks so open and so ready with just a hint of nervousness.

“I like you too, Harry.” Louis wants to make it clear that the feelings are reciprocated. He doesn’t want there to be any question or doubt in Harry’s mind about them being on the same page. “Tell you what, for tonight…why don’t you let me take the lead and if you don’t like where I’m going you can stop me at any time?” Harry leans down, kissing him again, nodding while his lips capture Louis’ once again. 

Harry crawls over toward the bedside table, opening the drawer to retrieve supplies and tossing them on the bed before quickly shedding his trousers and his pants and then turning back to Louis who is now sitting upright on the bed. Harry swipes his hair back off his face again and Louis seizes the opportunity to take the upper hand, grasping the back of Harry’s neck and pulling him back in to taste his mouth and the sweetness he knows is waiting there. Harry basically climbs into Louis’ lap like a fully grown golden retriever who doesn’t recognize its own size, but the action gives Louis the most brilliant idea. 

“Ride me,” Louis whispers into his neck.

“Fuck. Yes,” Harry exhales in a breathy tone, his head lolled back and his eyes closed in pleasure.

Louis reaches down between them, taking Harry’s cock in hand and stroking him leisurely, sleeving his foreskin up over the head to provide extra friction. Harry’s breathing starts to hitch at the motion. 

“Louuuu.” Louis realizes that Harry’s legs are trembling which probably means he’s close to coming and Louis wants so badly for Harry to come on his cock so he backs himself up from him, lying down on the bed and pulling Harry on top of him, his velvety thighs straddling Louis’ hips. Louis immediately takes them in hand, feeling the silky texture of the baby fine hair with his fingers moving over the healthy muscles. 

“Do you need fingers or–?” Harry shakes his head, so Louis trusts in his experience and hands him the lube, grabbing a condom for himself. Harry reaches behind himself with slick fingers, while Louis tears open the condom and sheaths himself and a moment later Harry’s hand is on him stroking him with the remaining lube on his fingers. 

Louis’ hands travel to Harry’s hips, anchoring themselves in the fleshy mounds just above the protruding bones there as Harry leans forward to place a gentle lingering kiss on his lips before he braces himself with a hand on Louis’ chest, reaching the other behind him to guide Louis’ cock inside of him. Since they had moved to the bed Harry had put forth shy and coy and, at moments, anxious energy, but Louis can definitely tell he knows what he’s doing when he starts to ease himself onto Louis’ cock, taking an inch at a time as he lifts and lowers himself more and more until he’s seated and ready to ride. To put it bluntly and in slightly crude terms, this is definitely not his first rodeo, and with his first full drop onto Louis’ cock, all his shyness and coyness has evaporated. 

Harry strokes himself back to full hardness quickly and begins thrusting himself down onto Louis’ cock slowly at first just feeling out his movements. But when he settles into a rhythm, he begins moving his own hands over his chest, tweaking his nipples and lifting his hair up off his neck in the most lewd fashion Louis has ever seen. It’s pornographic and Louis’ about to blow his fucking load just watching the scene unfold, regardless of the wet heat enveloping his dick right now.  

His hands travel to the meat of Harry’s thighs once again to feel his muscles working, searching for something to ground himself, as Harry starts lifting himself and slamming back down in earnest like some kind of wanton sex goddess. The tension clamps at Louis gut, starting to curl and turn and twist inside of him. He’s not gonna last long, but with the way that Harry is lolloping on top of him like he’s mounted Seabiscuit, who could fucking blame him? 

“Harry, can we– can you slow down for a minute? I’m–”

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I know I get a little over-exuberant when I’m on top like this–”

“No, no, babe, it’s fine. Wait– did you just apologize for almost making me come?” Harry just chuckles in response, Louis can feel him clenching as he laughs and it’s almost too much. “Let’s just adjust positions, yeah?” 

Harry dismounts so Louis can reposition himself, backing up to sit against the headboard. He beckons Harry with a ‘come on’ gesture with both of his hands once he’s arranged some pillows to his liking and he’s seated upright, so Harry climbs back onto him using the wrought iron headboard as leverage. 

Louis holds his cock out so Harry can sink back down onto him, the change in position and little break he had while they were re-positioning definitely helped with his stamina, so he’s grateful he spoke up when he did. Harry’s hole sucks him back in with just as much tightness and pressure and warmth as before. Louis snakes his arms around Harry and starts to stroke his hands lightly up and down his back.

“I like this because I can kiss you with ease now.” Harry looks down into Louis’ eyes. His eyes are bright and firy with lust still, but there’s something else there that Louis can’t quite name. 

Harry’s begun to ride him again, much slower and less bouncy, but just as intense. More rolling hips and slow circles, the friction and movement still just as delicious. Harry continues planting soft kisses all over his face, almost as if he’s worshiping Louis with his lips. His arms are wrapped around Louis’ shoulders, pulling him in like he wants every inch of their skin touching. Louis can’t help but feel like this is so different from any first time he’s had with someone. There’s an intimacy that feels so foreign to him and at the same time it feels like it’s as familiar as an old friend. 

Counterpoints.

They rock back and forth for a while, kissing each other, staring into each other’s eyes. Breathy moans and gasps and whispers into each other’s skin are the only sounds Louis can make out. Their hands roving, exploring each other’s pieces and parts. It’s almost like they’re on another wavelength together and Louis has no idea how long they’ve been connected like that. Louis feels as if time has slowed to a pace barely above a stop and his sweat combined with Harry’s is the only indicator of how long they’ve been entwining and churning together.  

In his haze Louis starts to feel the tingle at the base of his spine spreading like wildfire through his insides. “Faster, Harry. Faster.” Harry seems to come back to consciousness at the same time Louis does. He unwinds his arms from around Louis and grabs onto the headboard and starts using his arms to pull himself up and down, impaling himself on Louis’ cock with hard slams, his back arching and his breaths becoming labored. Louis starts to feel the restraint within him losing its grip so he decides to focus on Harry’s pleasure, moving his hand between them to stroke Harry’s cock furiously.

“Fuck, Louis. I’m–” Harry’s head falls back onto his shoulders so Louis lifts his other hand and grasps the chocolatey curls at the base of his scalp, tugging ever so slightly until he feels Harry’s cock spurting his release between them all over Louis' belly and chest and hand. Louis looks up to find Harry’s head thrown back in ecstasy, mouth agape and a single tear trickling down his cheek. His face going lax after he’s been wrung out in pleasure is absolutely breathtaking. Harry’s vice-like clench combined with fucking him slowly through the aftershocks of his orgasm send Louis careening into his own eruption, pulsing into the condom with a loud groan and bursts of sparkles fizzing behind his eyelids as his thighs tremble. Harry collapses down onto him, staying seated in his lap covering his face in a veil of gentle kisses. 

Harry stills his motions and they just sit there, locked together in that position. Louis vaguely registers the tightening in the muscles in his hips and his legs but he can’t bring himself to move because that would mean having to forfeit the closeness he feels with Harry right now and every cramp in the world is worth not cutting the thread between them. Harry’s face is tucked into the juncture of his neck and his shoulder as Louis continues caressing his back, waiting for their breathing to even out. They both sigh into the shared moment. 

“Harry.” 

“No.” 

“Love.” Louis tries again.

“No.” Harry shakes his head into Louis’ shoulder, his nose tickling the tiny hairs there.

“We have to get cleaned up so we can sleep, baby.” It’s the first time he’s used that term of endearment with Harry. It used to make him cringe so hard, but with Harry and with this particular situation, it just feels fitting. Harry mumbles something into Louis’ ear and then finally swings his leg over and falls limp onto his back with a ‘oomph’. Louis groans as he stretches out his legs and his hips, slinking down into the same prone position as Harry lying next to him. 

“I told you that was a bad idea.”

“Well, we couldn’t stay there forever. We’d be stuck together with your come as the glue before long.” 

“I can think of worse things than being stuck to you forever, Lou.” Harry smiles brightly, clearly recognizing the absolute cheese of that statement, but Louis wholeheartedly agrees, leaning up and kissing his lips with his hand cradling Harry’s sharp jaw. Harry hops up and disappears into the ensuite, coming back a couple of minutes later with a wet flannel to wipe Louis off. He gently swipes the cooling cloth over Louis’ heated skin, making sure to take extra care where he’s sensitive. “Stand up for me, Lou.”

“What?” Louis’ confused but he complies. Harry leaves the bed and pulls open a drawer in his dresser pulling out a couple of pairs of pants and a set of pajama bottoms. He pulls on his own pants and then returns to where Louis is standing by the bed. 

Harry takes his time kissing each of Louis’ cheeks and then his nose. Each shoulder and then then his neck. Harry kneels down to one knee in a crouching position and taps one of Louis’ legs and Louis finally catches on to what Harry’s doing. It’s unorthodox, sure. A little awkward, maybe? Nothing he’s ever seen someone do, but Louis feels strangely cared for in the action of Harry dressing him. Once he’s stepped both feet into the pants Harry pulls them up onto his body, giving a gentle kiss to each of his hips before he positions the waistband where he wants it and then he performs the same routine with the pajama bottoms, this time kissing and nuzzling the small pooch of Louis’ lower tummy.

It’s unbelievably intimate, but Louis doesn’t dare ask Harry why he’s doing it. He just lets him do it. “Do you want a shirt too, Lou?”

“No, I think I’m fine without it.” Louis does have a tendency to get cold, but he doesn’t want Harry going to any more trouble than he already has, although he suspects Harry likes it. Louis lays back down onto the bed after Harry’s given him a final embrace while they were still standing. The whole thing feels so different, but also so very endearing and comforting to Louis. He never lets people do things for him just because they want him to feel important, but he can’t shake the feeling rooting in his core. He feels precious to Harry, valuable like a most treasured possession. Cherished.

Harry snuggles up next to Louis with his head on his shoulder as Louis snakes an arm around his back, pulling him in. “Is this ok?” Harry looks up at Louis who glances down to find Harry’s apprehensive but very green eyes pouring into him. 

“More than ok.” Louis kisses him. Louis can’t really shut his brain off right away. Harry’s shown him so much of himself tonight, given him insight into the man he’s been dying to get to know. He can’t help but want to give back. After they’ve marinated in the silence and stillness for a bit Louis finally decides to cut through it. “I made that drink for you.” Harry’s face tilts up, his eyes twinkling with a knowing look and laced with a hint of amusement. “The On Fire Babe. I couldn’t sleep the other night because I was thinking about you so I went to the kitchen and started mixing.”

“So the blue was–”

“Your pod.” 

“Mmm.” Harry plants a kiss on Louis’ shoulder where his cheek was formerly resting. “It was lovely, Lou, you’re so brilliant to have come up with it.” Harry yawns. “Delicious and pretty and exciting and sweet and warm.”

“Spot on for its inspiration, then.” Louis winks at him, kisses him sweetly to say good night as they both settle into each other, drifting off for a well earned rest.

Chapter Text

Part V: I just keep on coming back to you

🍆H 🍆

Harry wakes up to a dark room and an empty bed. He immediately starts to panic, thinking Louis’ already sneaked out, head whipping back and forth searching for the man he’d spent the night with. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and retrieves his phone from the pocket of his discarded trousers to check the time, finding it’s not even six. Christ, it’s early. He thinks perhaps he should go check the kitchen before the panic sets in, but he pauses for a moment, realizing he hears the sound of running water. Ahhh sweet relief.  

Harry’s bare feet pad across the room to the ensuite. He opens the door to a face full of steam and the humidity almost takes his breath, but being in close proximity to a naked AND wet Louis is too great a reward to resist. He opens the shower door as quietly as possible and steps into the stall with Louis, Louis’ head turning at the clicking sound of the door closing, revealing his slightly surprised eyes and a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. The smell of Harry’s orange body wash is lingering in the wet air around them and Harry thinks it probably shouldn’t turn him on so much that Louis smells like him right now.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you? I see you found the spare toothbrushes.” Harry chuckles. 

“Sooeee. Ahh int wa ah wa yoo.” 

“Ohhh and he’s bi-lingual. Jackpot! My mum will be so proud.” Harry throws both his fists up in victory as Louis laughs, taking the toothbrush out of his mouth and rinsing it with the cascading water from the showerhead and then setting it aside. 

“I said, I didn’t want to wake you. I woke up and felt gross so I couldn’t go back to sleep.” 

“S’fine, Lou. However, I am slightly disturbed by the fact that you’re one of those people who brushes their teeth in the shower.” Harry raises an eyebrow and a corner of his lips in an amused smirk.

“Oh, come on! It makes it extra minty. And I like when the foam runs down my chin and makes my skin tingle with the contrast of the hot shower water. Have you ever even tried it, Mr. Judgy McJudgeface?” Louis places his hands on his hips and cocks one as if to put forth a sassy challenge.

Harry’s a bit taken aback at how much thought Louis has actually put into it, but his cock twitches at the audacity of Louis’ response and a maniacal plan forms in his mind. “Mmm, can’t say I have. Although, right now I’m more concerned with otherwise occupying my mouth.” 

In an instant Harry has Louis flipped around and pressed up against the shower wall with his palms flat against the tile, attaching his mouth to Louis’ neck just below the mark he had left. He takes a few seconds to admire the visible reminder of last night and places a gentle kiss over the memento before speaking.

“Wanted my mouth all over you, didn’t you?” Louis outright moans, the sound of it only egging Harry on. He trails his mouth down the line of Louis’ shoulder kissing and licking each inch of his skin, his hands firmly planted on Louis’ hips, holding him in place. “Where do you want it most?” Harry’s holding him still against the wall, sucking and nibbling and dragging his teeth in a trail down Louis’ back as Louis squirms under his grip and whimpers in response. 

Harry starts sucking a mark on his back as he lowers himself to his knees, still gripping his hips like a lifeline and he’s never been more thankful for that choice because once he’s got Louis’ perfectly round and plump arse in his face he almost passes out from the waves of heat that course through his body. He’s never wanted to bury his face somewhere more in his entire life. He runs his fingertips up Louis’ sides and back down to rest on his hips just to watch the goosebumps rise on his wet skin. 

He takes his time brushing his lips across one cheek, leaving barely there kisses everywhere his pillowy lips land. “Harry, please mmmm– fuck.” 

“Shhhh.” Harry makes the sound with his lips parted but pressed against the flesh of his right globe before he bites lightly and then licks over the spot. “M’taking my time. Making sure I don’t miss an inch with my– what did you call it? Ahhh, my mouth made of sin, that’s right.” The words are spoken into the meat of Louis’ arse. What a perfect location to craft a stanza of filthy poetry, Harry thinks. He drags his teeth back over the reddened skin there as Louis lets out a desperate whine that echoes against the porcelain tiles.

Harry brings his thumbs down the seam of Louis’ crevice, barely grazing the sensitive skin inside, the rest of his fingertips skimming along down the milky skin of Louis’ cheeks. Harry’s eyes track Louis’ head lolling back and his jaw practically on the floor, aching with pleasure at just the hint of touch where he longs for Harry the most. He slowly positions his thumbs at the bottom of the crease of Louis’ arse and pulls apart to reveal his hole, perfect and puckered and ready to be devoured. Harry’s mesmerized at how Louis’ entrance is already clenching and releasing without anything inside him. He’s positively ravenous for it. He leaves one hand still, slipping his other thumb in his mouth and retracting it with a loud pop before he slowly runs it down Louis’ crack from the cleft to his balls, directly over his hole. The sound Louis makes at the contact is entirely unhinged. It’s like a mix of a sob and a pornographic moan and Harry wants to hear it over and over again. New life goal unlocked. 

Pulling apart his marvelous orbs once again, Harry plants a kiss right over the rosy skin of Louis’ hole before he latches his mouth onto it and begins to suck like he’s trying to get the cream out of a pastry, earning another loud groan and gasp from Louis before a loud release of breath. He can’t tell if Louis is relieved or not from the sound. He circles his tongue around Louis’ rim and over the wrinkled skin there before he flattens his tongue, lathing over the surface a few times. 

“Mmmm. Taste so good, Lou. Like warm honey on my tongue.” He whispers the words directly into Louis’ arsehole and watches as Louis’ entire body shudders with the sensation. 

Louis’ cheek is now pressed against the shower wall and he’s pushing his arse back into Harry’s mouth. He’s not moving. Simply presenting himself for Harry’s enjoyment. And enjoy, he will. Harry notices his fists are balled up, white knuckled against the tile as if any minute he’s going to try to pound his way through it. His eyes are squeezed shut, his wet hair matted to his head with the exception of a few strands plastered to his forehead. His lips bitten to a deep shade of almost magenta. He looks like Harry’s dirtiest dreams, all spread out and slick and prime for the taking. Harry’s already rock hard. Fuck, he’s been hard since the moment he got his lips on Louis. But this isn’t about his pleasure. This is about Louis’.

From that point on Harry alternates between licking and sucking and fucking his tongue into Louis’ tightness. He wonders how long it’s been since Louis bottomed and if he should ask before he adds fingers. Louis may not like that and Harry doesn’t want to–

“H– Harry, fuck. God. Can you– can you give me more? I want– ahhhh fucking hell.” Well, so much for Louis not liking where he was headed. 

Harry continues slipping his tongue in and out of him but this time with the addition of a finger. Now if he can just find–

“FUCKING FUCK, BABY. FUCK SHIT FUCK.” Louis pounds the tiles with his right fist. Harry smiles at Louis’ outburst. Well, as much as someone can smile with their tongue in someone’s arsehole anyway. 

Harry adds another finger, both digits searching out his swollen prostate, and he thinks Louis might potentially levitate himself right out of the shower. His moans are becoming more animalistic and feral by the minute which only pushes Harry to dive deeper. Harry sits back on his heels to give his jaw a break for a moment and frankly, to watch the show as Louis has now started fucking himself on his fingers. He’s pushing all of his weight back into Harry’s hand, arching his back in the most salacious fashion. He decides then and there that this is gonna provide wank material for all eternity. Harry dives back in with his tongue beside his fingers and lets Louis continue rocking back onto his face. His jaw is aching and his knees are throbbing and the steam is starting to make him feel a bit woozy and the water is lukewarm bordering on cold, but not a goddamn thing is going to stop him from making Louis fall apart under his hands and his mouth. He needs it like he needs food, and as a chef, he needs food a whole fucking lot. 

“Fuck. I’m– Baby.” The last word escapes Louis’ lips as a breathy whisper and Harry feels Louis clenching around his fingers and his tongue and watches as his thighs shake signaling his release, his mouth frozen open with only the sound of his heaving breaths escaping. Louis slowly slides down the wall to his knees, seemingly unable to hold his weight up any longer. He looks so blissed out. Younger, somehow, but just as lovely as ever, Harry thinks. 

It’s then that Harry feels his neglected cock screaming at him for attention. He can hardly raise himself off his knees to even get a hand around it so he decides to lift himself up onto the bench in the shower so he can take care of his rock solid and heavy dick he’s now aware of. Once he’s positioned on the bench he starts to stroke himself, retracting his foreskin and pushing back over the head to help with the glide. He’s replaying the last twenty minutes or so in his mind and smacking his lips to remember the taste of Louis’ arse and how his face looked when he came, so lost in his own euphoria. Thankfully this isn’t going to take long with how worked up he is. 

Harry doesn’t realize what’s happening until Louis is on his knees in front of him with his cock in his mouth, sliding him down his throat with practiced ease and cupping his balls with the most delicious gentle pressure, just like Harry likes it. His hands slip into Louis’ wet hair on impulse. 

“Ffffff— nghn. Lou, that’s– mmm— M’not gonna last long, honey.” 

“Good. Means you’ll last longer later when you fuck me.” The words are too much and his orgasm hits him like he’s hurling himself off a cliff. His head jerks back, his vision whites out and he then realizes he didn’t even warn Louis who was speaking when he came. Harry opens his eyes again and looks down to find Louis with come all over the bottom half of his face, sticking out his tongue to lick at the corners of his mouth. Pearly white strands painted across his cheeks and his lips and his chin. He looks like Harry’s favorite work of art of his own making. He’s horrified for a moment thinking perhaps Louis didn’t like the accidental facial until Louis swipes his fingers over his face and then into his mouth, licking and tasting Harry’s come like it’s vanilla frosting. 

“Fuck me, you’re downright indecent…but I really fucking love it.” Harry’s voice is hoarse with the after effects of his orgasm. 

“Mmmm” Louis pulls his finger out of his mouth with a squelch. “And you said I taste good.”

Louis stands up and rinses off quickly under the now cold shower spray. “You do taste good. Don’t insult my very professional and elegant palate, Lou.” Harry stands up and grabs his sponge to wipe himself off. 

“My apologies, chef.” Harry’s cock perks up in interest.

“Can you cool it with the chef talk? My refractory period game is strong but not that strong.” Harry rinses himself under the cold water and jumps out of the shower, trying not to shiver while he grabs a towel off the hook, then turning to the sink to clean his teeth. 

“Ohhhh, is that a kink?” Louis follows him out of the shower and begins drying himself off. Harry waits until Louis’ finished drying off to respond to the question. 

Harry spits the minty foam into the basin. “Hardly. It’s just sexy coming from you, I guess.”

Louis wraps his towel around his waist and comes up behind him, snaking his arms around Harry’s waist and kisses the back of his shoulder. Harry can’t help but gaze at their reflection in the mirror, noticing how well they seem to fit together. How comfortable they look for this being their first date. They look like they’ve been together for years. 

“Come on. Let’s go back to bed, baby. I’m not on at the bar until noon.” 

Harry notices his bun is fucked so he pulls it down, combing through the tangles on his way back to the bedroom. When he reaches the bedroom he heads back to the dresser and grabs a fresh pair of pants for both of them. He puts his own pair of pink briefs on and turns back to find Louis’ plugging his phone into Harry’s charger at the bedside table. 

“Turn around, Lou.” Harry’s already kneeling down in front of Louis so he can easily step into the blue boxer briefs. Louis obliges, looking a bit reluctant when he turns to find Harry on his knees ready to dress him. Harry knows it’s not a conventional thing to dress your lover after sex, but it’s something he’s always wanted to do for the right person. And with Louis, it felt natural and normal to him. A way he could take care of Louis. 

“Baby–” Harry looks up at Louis, blinking…waiting for him to say that it’s weird or ask him not to do it anymore. Instead Louis steps into the boxer briefs and shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

They both clamber into bed in only their pants, Harry turning his back to Louis and scooting himself backward into Louis’ waiting arms, Louis drawing nonsensical shapes on Harry’s back for a few minutes while they ease into silence. 

“Why do you do that, Harry?” Louis’ voice sounds so unsure, almost like he’s nervous to hear Harry’s answer. 

“Shit, I’ve made you uncomfortable haven’t I? I’ll stop doing it I’m so sorry, I–”

“Woah, baby. Slow down. You’ve not made me uncomfortable, I just want to know why…I want to understand. To know more about you.” Harry can’t help the genuine smile that blossoms at the sentiment. 

“I just– I like taking care of people. How did you put it earlier? Bringing joy to people in little things. It feels natural to dress you after we’re intimate. Like an extension of that intimacy, I guess?” Harry doesn’t feel like he’s making sense at all. How does he explain that it’s a simple act of adulation without telling Louis he’s already completely gone for him? Because that’s entirely bonkers if Louis has no idea that Harry’s known about and wanted Louis for so long. How does he tell him that it’s because all he wants to do is to love and adore Louis? “If you don’t like it, I don’t have to–” 

“I do.” Louis cuts him off. “Like it, I mean. I think if it were any other person I’d feel weird about it and yell at them that I’m not their fucking Ken doll.” Harry snickers. “But when you do it, it makes me feel special. I feel… adored.” 

*SOUND OF RECORD SCRATCHING* 

Oh. 

What in the soulmate shit–? GET A GRIP, STYLES. We do not believe in soulmates so just back that train up, you penis noggin.

“Well, that’s…good, then.” Harry can’t say anything else because if he does he’s going to inevitably be tasting his own shoe leather by the end of the sentence. Why are words so fucking hard?

Harry feels Louis burrow further into him after placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder. He swipes Harry’s hair out of the way and rests his face up against the back of Harry’s neck, bringing his right arm around to pull Harry flush against him. Harry closes his eyes and tries not to let his brain tarry too long on the image of puzzle pieces shifting into place.

🍑L 🍑

Louis wakes up disoriented and hot. Fucking hell, is he in a sauna? He starts to sit up from the bed but then quickly realizes that there’s something across his chest pinning him down. He looks down to find a muscular tattooed arm attached to a mess of curls splayed out over his shoulder and that’s when it clicks in his sleep fogged brain. Harry.

He smiles as he looks over at the sleeping angel, snuffling little snores next to him. Harry’s breath is warm and wet against his arm. Louis pushes his hair back out of his face so he can be truly creepy and watch Harry sleep properly. He takes in the shape of Harry’s features and the crease between his brows on his otherwise relaxed face. He catalogs his cheeks, every little mole, including the most prominent one just below where he knows Harry’s dimple dents into his left cheek. His eyes travel across his mouth, his top lip shaped like a bird in flight, and the bottom one, looking so soft and so pink you’d think he was wearing rosy, velvety lipstick if you didn’t know any better. Every inch of him is flawless and Louis could lay right here and look at him forever, but unfortunately his bladder has other plans.

Louis slides out from under Harry’s arm and reaches over to check his phone for the time, finding it’s not even ten yet. He heads to the toilet to take a piss, but on his way to slip back into bed and gently wake Harry up for a morning blow job he catches the faint smell of coffee in his nostrils and his stomach growls angrily in protest. He decides to slip on the pjs Harry had given him last night with his own polo to protect any shred of his modesty that was left and search out the delicious smell. He could have a cup and a nibble of something and have plenty of time to consume Harry’s dick as well. Everybody wins! 

Louis grabs his phone off the bedside table and slips out the door and into the main living space to find Niall beaming at him from behind the kitchen counter munching on a piece of toast, coffee mug in hand. Louis notices the bowl of fruit shapes sitting in front of him as well.  

“Hey there, stud muffin.” Niall winks with his whole face in an exaggerated fashion. “You must be ravenous from your night of love making. Step into my office and allow me to fill your belly while you fill my ears with an update of how last night went.” Louis smiles a smile that’s far too bright for him to smile before noon, however it seems that Niall just has that effect on people. “I mean, I do live here, so technically I do know how last night went.”

“Niall, we don’t have to–”

“I didn’t hear a lot of round one, but round two was–” He puffs out his cheeks with a loud oof sound.

“Niall, can we maybe not—” Niall keeps right on going as if he didn’t even hear Louis. 

“All I can say is that you are a screamer and the tiles in that bathroom have the acoustics of a recording studio, Lou–”

“Niall, please–” 

“Were you playing the drums at one point, because I definitely heard what sounded like pounding?”

Louis can feel his face reddening with embarrassment. “Drums? I– what are you even on about?”

“And I do know how WELL ENDOWED…” Niall holds out his hands like he’s telling a story about how big of a fish he caught. Oh God. “...our Harry is, obviously, so to be honest, I’m surprised you can walk right–”

“NIALL!!!” Louis flings a pineapple star at his face and scream whispers Niall’s name with his whole chest so as not to wake Harry. 

“Jesus, Lou, you didn’t have to choose the star shape. They’re pointy, you know? Could have taken out my eye! I would think you’d be in a better mood since you got some last night.” 

“Just– coffee. If you’re gonna make me listen to your play by play of what you think you heard last night, I need to at least be caffeinated.” Louis scrubs a hand over his face. 

“Ohhhhh. Of course, mate. I’m a shit host.” Niall grabs a mug out of the cupboard and slides it toward Louis and begins to pour the dark liquid into it from some sort of weird looking clear pitcher thing with a handle on top.

“Niall, what the fuck is that? I just want regular coffee, mate.”

Niall giggles. “I like you, Lou. Did I ever tell you that?” Niall grins as Louis pours a little milk into his steaming mug. “This is Harry’s french press. He threw out my electric coffee maker the first day we moved in together stating that this was the only way to make coffee and that my coffee maker would only produce– and I quote– ‘moldy bean shit sludge’. And the worst part of all of it, Lou, is that he doesn’t even fucking drink coffee.” Louis smiles warmly, his eyes squinting with an uncontrollable fondness as he thinks about how charming Harry’s little quirks and idiosyncrasies are and how he can’t wait to find out more of them.“Shit, mate, you’ve gone all melty with your face. You’re totally dick over skull for him already, aren’t you?” 

Louis snickers at Niall’s choice of words. “That feels more like a pint conversation mate.” Louis lifts his mug in a cheers motion toward Niall and hopes to God Niall doesn’t continue his current line of questioning. 

Niall turns and pulls a bottle of Bailey’s out of the cabinet. “Did someone mention hair o’ the dog?” He unscrews the lid and pours a nip into both of their coffees and Louis notes that he’s never loved an Irishman more. “So how did it go?” Louis raises his eyebrows at Niall in a silent question. “I mean, not the sex, obviously. But the date? I’m assuming you guys really hit it off.” 

“We uhh– Yeah, we did.” Louis can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face at the memory of their time together the previous evening and night into the early hours of the morning. “He’s really spectacular, Niall. Well, of course you know that, but I just– After my break up with my ex, I didn’t think I’d ever find someone I genuinely wanted to date again. I swore off even the thought of dating for a long while. And then after I did the show last time and it ended so disastrously, I was convinced I was just going to be alone forever. But now– after meeting Harry– I feel…hopeful. I feel like maybe I was wrong and that this is the start of something really special. Something honest and genuine. Something that really fits.” 

“I’m really happy for you, Louis. And thanks for sharing that with me, but this is the part of the conversation where I tell you that if you ever hurt my best mate I will–”

“I know, I know, you’ll beat me to a bloody pulp.” Louis laughs and rolls his eyes amusedly.

“No fucking way, Lou…I’m more of a lover than a fighter. But I will absolutely hire Liam to do it for me and Liam works in HR, so you know that guy could end a motherfucker, what with all that pent up rage.” Louis laughs out loud, his hand flying up to his mouth to stifle the sound so Harry doesn’t stir.

“Message received, Nialler. But you really don’t have to worry. Harry is– I don’t quite know how to explain it, but I just feel this pull towards him. There’s this draw. And it’s outside of his charm and his magnetism and his kind nature…it’s something more than that. Like we’re cut from the same cloth or something.”

“Sounds a lot like soulmates, Lou.”

“No way, mate. I don’t believe in that shit, come on.”

“Well, maybe it’s just that Cupid had really good fucking aim this time.” Niall mimes shooting a bow and arrow and winks at Louis.

“Niall, there are no cherubs in diapers with magic arrows shooting at us.” Louis rolls his eyes fondly at the Irishman.

“Maybe not a cherub in a diaper but potentially just a cheeky Irishman with a really convenient profession, eh? Although, I do think I’d look great in a diaper and some wings.” Niall winks again and Louis feels like he’s not in on the joke or something.

“Convenient profession? What do you mean?” Louis looks at him with a million questions he’s positive are written all over his face. 

“You know. I’m your cupid. How I got H on the show and all that.” 

“Oh, well– yeah, of course.” So Niall got Harry on the show? Well, that’s probably to be expected considering they were roommates and Niall would have some pull. Louis pretends to know exactly what Niall is talking about so he can figure out exactly what he’s missing here.

“It was pretty much a no-brainer when I found out you were gonna be the picker. He just went on and on and on about you after he saw your episode.” Oh God, Harry had known who Louis was? “I’m talking my man was down baaaaad. He looked you up on socials, all starry-eyed over your photos. And when he decided to get that tattoo, I couldn’t believe it.” Christ, the tattoo was…on purpose. “And I’m telling you Lou, one time I walked in on him watching your episode for like, the zillionth time in a…” Niall clears his throat. “...compromising position, if you know what I mean…” He wiggles his eyebrows and mimes jerking off for a bit of extra crude flair as if Louis didn’t know exactly what he meant. Harry had watched his episode that much? Oh fuck. Oh fuck, no. “So I knew when it was you that I had to–” Niall mimes shooting the bow and arrow again. “...shoot my shot, so to speak. Or I guess technically it was Harry’s shot.”

Louis tries his best to keep his composure at the onslaught of information, even though he doesn’t quite know how to process it. After all, he doesn’t even know if Harry knows all of this? He wouldn’t put it past Niall to just make this decision for him without even a consultation. Maybe he hadn’t even told Harry that Louis was involved. Maybe Harry had been duped into this just like Louis?

“I’m just really glad he told you everything.” FUCK. Harry knew. “You know, honesty being the best policy and all that.” 

“Yeah…yeah…honesty.” Louis takes another sip of his coffee and looks down at the toast Niall had set on the plate before him. He hadn’t even touched it and yet the thought of even taking a single bite made his stomach sour. He’s so confused. He doesn’t know how he feels right now and he just really fucking needs to get out of there so he can think. “Well, mate, thanks ever so much for the breakfast, but I’ve got to head home so I can get ready for opening this afternoon.” 

Louis’d never been so glad he at least put a shirt on and managed to grab his phone. He’ll forfeit his jeans and his pants for the sake of not having to re-enter the bedroom and wake Harry because God knows he can’t lay eyes on him right now with the way he’s feeling. He shrugs his jacket on and grabs his sambas without even bothering to slip them on. He just wants out of there as fast as possible.

“Mate, you haven’t even touched your toast. Don’t you at least want to wait until Harry wakes–”

“No, I’ve really got to go or I’ll– be late. I’ve got a delivery coming today that I need to be there for. Just– tell Harry I’ll call him, ok?” Niall looks like he doesn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth but he doesn’t say it. He just stands there looking slightly confused and horrified at Louis’ premature exit. Join the fucking club, Louis thinks. “Thanks again, mate. For the umm– information.” Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that. Louis hurries out the door without another word and as soon as the door is closed behind him he dials Zayn praying to the universe he picks up even though he’s probably still sleeping. 

“Lou?” A sleepy voice answers on the third ring. “It’s Lou, Li. Go back to sleep.” Louis hears him whispering and immediately feels like shit for interrupting his morning with Liam. Louis steps out of the building onto the street and heads for the tube station. 

“Z, can you be at my place in fifteen? I’m on my way there and I– I need you.” Feeling like shit or not, he needs his friend right now. He recognizes that his voice is shaky and wonders if Zayn recognized it as well. 

“I’ll be there in ten.”  Louis hangs up without another word and takes off running toward the tube, bare feet stinging a bit on the wet London sidewalk and bringing up painful memories. Well, at least this time it wasn’t freezing or raining. It’s still all too familiar, this feeling, but he shakes the jumbled thoughts out of his head and continues punishing his own feet and choking down the hurricane of emotions with each stride. 

🍆H 🍆

Here whenever you want to talk. 

That’s the text Harry had finally settled on after day twelve of not hearing from Louis. He had deleted and retyped multiple messages with different approaches before deciding a more hands off method would be best. He wanted to scream and shout and cry and defend himself when Niall had first explained to him what had happened with Louis the morning after their first date. He did all of that, except the only one who ended up hearing it was Niall. Louis had said he would call, but he never did. A few days later Harry called and left a message and then he tried once more after another few days of radio silence. Harry assumed that meant he wanted space and time after he’d found out the information Harry had meant to tell him that night. He really had meant to tell him, but the night got away from them and he was so caught up in enjoying the moments with Louis that he forgot all about the looming conflict. 

“SHITFUCK.” Harry chucked the saucepan into the kitchen sink and quickly dropped a lid on it to smother the flames. He hasn’t set something on fire since his first week of culinary school. Harry just stands there with his hands on his hips, disappointed and frustrated with himself. 

“Still haven’t heard from him, huh?” Niall hesitantly walks into the kitchen, his tail still between his legs from how badly he felt about fucking things up for Harry.

The truth of it was that Niall had done nothing wrong. Yeah, he has a big fucking mouth, but the fault lay at Harry’s feet and Harry knows it. He’d be a really shitty friend if he held Niall responsible for letting the cat out of the bag. What a stupid saying, Harry thinks. Whose dumb fucking idea was it to put the cat into the bag in the first place? Oh yeah, it was Harry’s. 

Harry doesn’t even respond to Niall. He just starts cleaning up his mess from the very charred blueberry compote he’s tried to make three times now. His head’s a fucking mess and he only has himself to blame and no venting session with Niall is going to make him feel better about it. He doesn’t even know if he wants to feel better about it, let alone does he deserve to feel better about it. 

“I texted him two days ago. Still nothing.” Harry grunts in Niall’s general direction. 

“I’m sure he just needs time, H. I’m– Fuck, I’m so–”

“Niall, do not apologize again. We’ve been over this. It was not your fault.”

“I know, but it’s my job as a best mate to make you feel better. So– maybe I’m not apologizing for shooting off my stupid fucking mouth, but moreso for not being able to fix it.” Harry’s head snaps up in surprise, staring at Niall, unblinking.

“Have you heard from him?”

Niall shakes his head. “Heard from Zayn. Louis doesn’t want to talk to me either.” So it was a conscious choice then. Well, Harry had suspected it was, but Niall has now confirmed it. “H, I tried. I swear I tried to– Well, I have no fucking clue what I could have said to reverse the damage, but I tried.”

“Hey, Ni. I know you did, ok. This isn’t your mess, it’s mine.”

“I have a part in it too. I’m the one who signed you up without even asking and the greenroom thing…that was me too. I started this whole thing.”

“Stop.” Harry turns to Niall placing his hands on his shoulders. “I’m glad you did, ok? I don’t regret going on the show again and I sure as fuck don’t regret getting to meet Louis and spend time with him. I should have been honest from the beginning and that’s on me. You did nothing but try to help your poor pathetic love-sick joke of a friend.”

Nialls eyes flit up to his face, his eyebrows raising at the last words Harry uttered. “Love-sick, huh?” 

Harry nods, turning back to the sink and focusing on scrubbing the burnt sugar and blueberry from the pot. “Yeah. Love-sick.” 

“Well, at least we know he’s gonna have to talk to you before next week.”

“Next week?”

“Your follow up interviews.”

Well, isn’t that just a twist of the knife in his heart. He had completely forgotten about the follow-up interviews. How is he supposed to face Louis when he hasn’t even been given an opportunity to explain what happened? That’s going to be awkward as balls, innit? But at least he’d get to see Louis. 

“Would it be weird if I said I’m looking forward to it because at least I’ll get to see him?”

“Oh, H.” Niall’s voice is full of pity and Harry can hardly bear it, his eyes filling at the sad tone of Niall’s usually cheerful lilt. 

“I just miss him, Ni.” He throws the scrubbie into the basin and braces his hands on the front of the sink, hanging his head as the tears start to trickle down his cheeks. “This is stupid. I spent less than twenty-four hours with the guy and had sex with him once– well, twice…” Harry sniffles. “S’not important. It just feels silly to be this broken up over him when really we barely know each other.”

“That’s not true.” Niall lays a comforting hand on his back, rubbing up and down gently. “In person, maybe? But you’ve spent much more time with him, H. You’ve watched that episode so much that I could probably quote it backwards and forwards and that’s not even counting the amount of time you’ve spent wishing you had a chance to meet him and spend time in person with him. Whether or not you’ve spent time in each other’s presence has nothing to do with the attachment you’ve formed, when I know for a fact that he’s occupied your thoughts for years. You’re entitled to feel what you feel.” 

“He won’t even text me. Like, I just know I’ve made him feel so much worse than I feel. And he– Fuck –” Harry swipes at the offending tears on his cheeks. “He said the most beautiful thing about how I love bringing joy to people in the little things and now– Now all I’ve brought him is frustration and grief. I can’t even say that I’ve brought him those things because I don’t know how he’s feeling because he won’t fucking TALK to me!” The anguish is too much, even though he has no right to feel any of it. Harry pushes the heels of his hands against his eyeballs, trying and failing to press the tears back into his eyes. 

“Maybe I can try to get you guys some off-camera time together before the interview, yeah? Give you a chance to sort things out without the pressure of filming?”  

Niall’s trying his hardest to make up for his part of this whole debacle. Harry really appreciates the gesture and his continued support, but the idea of alone time before the filming doesn’t really ease his mind. Nonetheless, he’d rather allow Niall to feel like he is helping. 

“That’d be ace, Niall, thanks.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand and gets back to scrubbing the mess he’s made. At least one of his messes is cleanable. Niall seems to get the message that Harry needs some time to engage in a little cleaning therapy, retreating back to his bedroom for the remainder of the night. 

Harry scrubs down the kitchen and cleans out the fridge. He wipes down the cupboards and reorganizes the food pantry, turning his aggravated attention to the stove and then the hob followed by the floors. He scrubs every inch of the kitchen until his bones are tired and he smells like sweat and lemon cleanser and yet he doesn’t feel any better. So much for cleaning therapy. Cooking therapy didn’t work either. He’s running out of therapies to try and at some point he’s going to have to resort to actual therapy, but today is not that day. 

Dragging himself into his bedroom to face the beast, he decides it’s time to finally strip the sheets. They don’t smell like Louis anymore anyway. He rips the duvet off and throws it angrily onto the floor in punishment for reminding him of Louis’ eyes and then jerks the fitted sheet off one corner at a time. The pillows are the next to be stripped but as he’s recklessly yanking at the fabric, one of the pillow cases rips at the corner. He stops himself then, asking what the fuck he’s doing and why the fuck he’s taking out his emotions on inanimate objects around his flat. 

Harry sits on the now naked mattress and takes a few regulating deep breaths before crossing to the ensuite for a shower. New sheets can wait. He turns the shower on to get it hot and glances at himself in the mirror. Hideous purple bags have formed under his eyes and a few spots on his forehead have popped up that weren’t there this morning. It’s probably all the touching his face and the crying and the lack of sleep and the extra unplanned hours at the restaurant. So much for self-care.

“Alright, Styles.” He starts speaking to himself in the mirror. “You have tonight to feel like shit. Wallow, eat ice cream, watch shit TV…do whatever you need to do tonight to burrow further into your misery, but tomorrow– Tomorrow, we’re going to get up and we’re going to put on some Beyoncé and a cute outfit and we’re going to get ourselves the fuck out of this funk.” 

Harry steps under the hot spray to wash the sad off. He definitely doesn’t have flashbacks to eating Louis out until he was crying in this very shower stall. Honestly, how dare anyone think such a thing? But now that it’s crossed his mind that he’s adamantly not thinking about it, he is, in fact, thinking about it, which makes his cock jump against his thigh. Meddling little torturer, this is harassment. Nevermind that he hasn’t even wanked since his night with Louis. A loud sigh escapes his lips, spraying a mist against the tiles. When he grabs the body wash and flips the cap open he instantly regrets not buying a new scent because now he’s bombarded with memories of the way Louis smelled and tasted of orange blossom and honey. 

It’s fine. You’re allowed to be sad. You’re entitled to feel what you feel.  

Niall’s words echo through his ears as he places the bodywash back onto the bench. You have tonight to be sad and that can include sad wanking. Another sigh wrenches the air from the bottom of his lungs as he grasps his cock and starts stroking himself to full hardness. Nothing is more pathetic than masturbation lubricated with your own tears. He rolls his eyes at his own highlight reel’s betrayal when lust-blown, stormy eyes cross his mind as he leans against the very wall Louis came against while Harry had his tongue and his fingers fucking into his heat. He strokes faster and faster until the image of his come dripping from Louis’ chin finally brings him to the crest of his orgasm. Shame and sadness sink right back into his bones immediately after his release washes down the drain, along with any shred of strength he had left.

After he’s showered and dressed himself and put clean sheets that definitely don’t smell like Louis on the bed, he grabs a pint of ice cream and a spoon from the kitchen and cocoons himself in the definitely -not-the-exact-shade-of-Louis’-eyes colored duvet, pulling up the ultimate form of torture on his laptop. No one needs to know what he’s watching. But it’s definitely not a certain episode of Naked Attraction with a certain blue-eyed boy from Doncaster with the best arse he’s ever had the pleasure to taste and touch. Well…tonight is for being sad. He supposes it’s official now. He refrains from including a dramatic re-enactment of Scarlet O’Hara’s monologue in Gone With The Wind, but he does think to himself that at least tomorrow is another day. 

🍑 L 🍑

“FUCKING FUCKBALLS.” Louis shouts as he squats down to carefully pick up the larger pieces of the glass he just dropped. 

“Leave it, Lou. I’ll get the broom.” Krystle touches his shoulder lightly and then heads to the backroom to grab cleaning supplies. 

Louis hasn’t been able to get his shit together the last two weeks. After he’d left Harry’s flat he had come home and told Zayn what had happened, thinking it would give him some level of peace just to get it off his chest, but instead he’d felt even more confused and more troubled about it all. Zayn had said that he just needed to sit down with Harry and give him a chance to explain himself, and Louis had intended to do that very thing after he’d given himself a couple of days to think, but here he is a little over two weeks later and he couldn’t even buck up the courage to text Harry back.

He had gone back to work immediately, clinging onto the distraction for dear life. He’s been fucking up orders and ruining drink after drink. Forgetting drink recipes isn’t like him. As much thought and care as he put into composing his specialty drink menu, he knows it like the back of his hand. He slaved over those cocktails for months to get the right flavor combinations and ingredient proportions. Maybe it’s because everything still feels so unresolved. Maybe he should have just done what Zayn said and talked to Harry. Or maybe he’s just a dumbfuck. It’s like he’s just bouncing around inside his own brain at all times with thoughts of Harry holding his mind hostage and it’s becoming a real problem. 

Louis hisses air through his teeth as a sharp sting jolts through his hand. “Louis, I said to leave it.” Krystle sighs and starts to sweep up the shards of glass. “Go take care of that. I’ve got it up here.” She hands him a towel and he notices her shifting her eyes to Steve in some sort of silent communication between the two of them.

“Come on, boss, I’ll help you bandage that.” Steve grabs his elbow, pulling him to the backroom. 

Steve snags a box of plasters out of the cupboard and turns the tap on to run Louis’ hand underneath for a few seconds. He blots the cut with a medicated wipe causing Louis to wince at the sting and then seals the plaster to the wound. Louis notices Steve’s eyes lingering on him in concern. 

“Boss, why don’t you just head home for the night? It’s slow anyway, mate. We’ve got it here. And you’re clearly somewhere else mentally. You’ve been working non-stop the last couple of weeks. You need a break.”

He knows Steve’s right. Louis probably shouldn’t be there in his current mental state, clearly he’s a liability behind the bar - which is unfortunately the only place he wants to be when his thoughts are all jumbled like this. Louis shakes his head, clasping the meat of his left hand between the thumb and index finger of his right, his own personal nervous motion when he’s not sure what else to do with his hands. 

“I know I fucking need a break, but I don’t know how to take one, Steve-O.”

“Just–” Steve puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “...get out of my bar.” Steve says seriously at first, his face then breaking into a huge grin. He starts to chuckle and Louis joins him reluctantly. Not that he didn’t get the joke, it’s just that humor really doesn’t seem to be his thing recently. 

“Yeah, alright.” Louis grabs his jacket and heads for the door, walking right into a wall of solid muscle as he passes the bar to tell Krys he’s heading home. 

“Oh hey, Louis, fancy bumping into you here.” 

Louis looks up to find Liam’s kind, brown eyes warmly twinkling at him. “Hi, Li. Good to see you. Zayn here?” 

“Nah, he had other plans tonight, so I thought I’d stop by for a drink.” 

“Well, I was just heading back to my place. Don’t let me keep you.” Louis waves at Krystle to signal he’s leaving. 

“D’you want to join me, Lou? Or would you want some company, maybe?” 

Oh, Louis sees what this is. “Zayn sent you to babysit me, didn’t he?” He can’t help how annoyed he’s sure his face looks right now. He’s a grown ass man, he doesn’t need a constant companion. 

“Babysit? No. In all honesty, he did ask me to call and check on you, but I thought I’d come hang out with you for a bit instead, if that’s alright?” Sweet Liam. He seems to be one of the most genuinely wholesome and pure-hearted humans Louis has ever met. He hopes Zayn keeps him. 

“Can you cook? Because I can’t and I’m tired of take-away.” Louis raises his eyebrows in question, pursing his lips. 

“Reckon I can whip something up for us, yeah.” Liam nods and smiles like he’s the human version of apple pie. 

They reach Louis’ flat after stopping at the shop to grab some groceries and Liam heads into the kitchen to start cooking. 

“Can I make you a drink, mate?” Louis asks, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. 

“Anything non-alcoholic? I uh– I actually don’t drink…anymore.” Liam seems a bit nervous admitting it, but Louis pretends not to notice.

“Not a problem. I can make you a mocktail if you’re up for it?” Louis quickly reassures him without asking for more information. Truth be told, he hadn’t even noticed that Liam didn’t drink the other night at the bar and he doesn’t want to pressure Liam to tell him anything he doesn’t feel comfortable with. 

Liam smiles warmly. “Yeah, that sounds great, Louis. Thank you.”

The two laugh and joke and shift around each other in the kitchen like they’ve known each other for years. Liam is simply that easy to be around. He’s providing an amazing distraction for Louis, telling him stories and laughing with him as they prepare their food and drink. Liam makes them an orzo pasta bake with sweet corn and boursin cheese while Louis mixes a coconut cream and pineapple juice concoction with lemon-lime soda. 

Louis garnishes the drink with a fresh sprig of spearmint and cuts the pineapple wedge into a flower and he absolutely does not have flashbacks of minty green-eyes watching him cut fruit into shapes a couple of weeks ago. Liam takes a sip and remarks that it tastes like the beach and Louis thinks it’s one of the best compliments he’s ever heard.

“So, can I ask you a question?” Louis looks over to Liam on the other side of the couch. They’d moved there after dinner and Louis had flipped on the telly and was mindlessly flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch. “It might be– kind of personal.” Liam looks so uncomfortable asking which is a dead giveaway to Louis. So this whole thing is a fact-finding mission? He has to hand it to Liam, though, he was pretty sly what with waiting until now to grill him about what’s going on with him and Harry. 

“Does– Does Zayn date a lot?” OH. So it is indeed a fact finding mission, but the facts Liam is after are more of the mysterious best friend variety. 

“I mean, I don’t know if date is the right word for it.” Louis says jokingly, but Liam’s raised eyebrows and frown suggest he did not find that funny. 

 “I just– Ok, so…” Liam sighs. “I really like him. And I wanted to know if he’s like– just having fun with me or if he’s interested in more. So I thought maybe I’d take the temperature on where we were at by asking you.”

"No offense, Liam, but why aren’t you asking Zayn?” 

“Good question and I have an answer to that, but you have to promise not to laugh.” Liam sends a warning look. “I’m kind of– afraid of– him.”

“Afraid? Of ZAYN?” Louis doesn’t laugh, but the temptation is definitely there. He smirks instead. 

“It’s just– he’s got this intensity, right? This otherworldly laser stare type thing where he can look a hole right through your soul. It’s intimidating. So, every time I feel like I’ve got the guts to bring up a ‘what are we?’ type conversation, I totally wimp out.” Liam leans forward, his elbows on his knees like he’s preparing for spontaneous hyperventilation. 

“Liam. He doesn’t stare at me like that. Nor anyone else that I’ve seen. And as far as the whole ‘does he date a lot’ question which I assume you asked, because you wanted to know if he was fucking anything that moves, I can assure you he’s not.” Liam sighs in relief. “I’ll also say that seeing you two together…I haven’t seen Zayn that happy and affectionate with someone in a really long time. He doesn’t talk to me about his feelings all that much, Li, but I can read my best friend.” The corners of Liam’s mouth curl up in a slow smile that brightens with every second. “Just talk to him about it.”

It occurs to Louis in that moment that he’s preaching a sermon to Liam that he should be preaching to himself. It always seems that you know exactly how to fix everybody else’s relationship shit but, when it comes to your own, you’re too scared or entirely too blind to sort it out. 

Later that night after Liam was gone and Louis was left to his own devices again, he decided to burrito himself in a blanket, watch the shittest TV possible, and gorge himself on chocolate covered pretzels. He doesn’t quite know how or when it happened, but he finds himself mindlessly surfing through the episodes of Naked Attraction before he lands on one where the picker is the American girl next door, Taylor. Blondie’s cute, if you’re into that sort of thing, he’ll give her that. Not that he’s watching the episode for her anyway. It’s about to get to the good stuff, and he’s about to get to see Harry’s perfect legs and his perfect dick again, when his phone buzzes next to him. Niall’s name flashes across the screen as if he knew exactly what Louis was watching and called to give him shit or to judge him. Louis hasn’t answered his calls up to now, but the memory of what he told Liam tonight niggles in his brain.

Just talk to him about it.

Not that things are as complicated, or romantic in any shape, form, or fashion with Niall, but he can’t exactly advise others to communicate and then ignore it when it comes to his own conflicts. It’s hard to take your own advice. Fuck it. He hits pause on the remote and presses the green button on the phone.

“Hello, Niall.” 

“L– Louis? Fuck, you answered. I mean– I’m so happy you answered, Louis. I’m– I’m so fucking sorry for that conversation, mate, and for fucking things up with you and H. I just, I thought he had told you everything and I don’t want you to think I was purposefully trying to mislead you. I was just trying to help my best mate and to–”

“Niall. Take a breath.” He hears Niall breath in and out over the receiver for a few seconds. “I get why you did what you did. I’m still not thrilled that you didn’t tell me, obviously, but I’m more upset that Harry didn’t tell me. I feel...deceived. And it–” Louis stops himself before divulging too much to Niall about how it brought up the feelings he had after he found out that Chris had a boyfriend and was just using the show, and ultimately him, for likes and follows. He had narrowly avoided the downward spiral those feelings almost sent him on, thinking about Blake and all the shitty things he had said and done. Louis didn’t trust people easily, but with Harry it had felt so seamless from the very beginning, so he had let himself hope and now that hope felt tainted. “It brought up some stuff for me. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, and I don’t know if I ever will be.”

Niall lets out a sad breath. “Well, that’s bad timing considering the follow up interview for you two is this week.” 

Oh fuck, the follow-up. Louis had completely forgotten. He can’t do it. There’s no way he can face Harry in a few days. What would he say? He feels like the minute he sees those green eyes and coffee curls again he’ll crumble into a million squishy pieces and forget all about how he needs to protect himself. And what if he’s right? What if Harry was just using him all along? No, Harry’s not like that, but he doesn’t really know Harry that well, does he? What if this was just some elaborate scheme to fuck with Louis’ head?

“I– Thank you for reminding me, Niall. I don’t–” He doesn’t know what to fucking say or do now. “I’ve gotta go now.” Louis quickly hangs up the phone, not giving Niall time to respond, and  switches his phone to airplane mode, tossing it to the other side of the bed. That’s enough communication for the day, he thinks as he unpauses the episode just as a familiar pair of strong thighs and a tiger tattoo come into view. 

🍆H 🍆

“Alright, H, just sit tight in here for a bit until they’re ready to go, yeah?” Harry grabs a granola bar off the snack table, eyeballing it and then setting it back down. He couldn’t eat right now if he tried. 

“Are you staying with me?” He normally wouldn’t ask and he didn’t mean for it to sound so pathetic, but he really doesn’t want to be alone with his nerves right now. 

“I can stay for a bit, yeah.” Niall sits down in the armchair beside Harry’s. 

Harry alternates between drumming his hands on the tops of his thighs and bouncing his legs together, knees knocking. He’s trying to keep himself from gnawing on the skin of his lips, his worst nervous habit, because he really doesn’t want to have a bloody lip on camera. 

“It’s gonna be fine, yeah? I’m directing everything today, so I’ll be able to give you guys a bit of time to speak before we start. Just keep breathing for me, H.”

“I’m– I’m fine. I’m just really anxious about seeing him again. I barely slept last night thinking about what I was going to say and what I was going to wear and how he would react. I’m just– it’s fine. It’ll be fine, right?” He just needs his best friend to keep saying ‘it’ll be fine’ even if it won’t. 

Niall touches his hand to his headset like he’s receiving a message. He looks a bit worried, but Harry tries to brush it off for the sake of his own mental health. “It’ll be fine.” Niall pats his forearm. “Just a sec. I’ll be right back, ok? Just uh– have a seltzer or something?” Niall points to the refreshment table on his way out the door. 

Harry stands up and begins to pace the room. He crosses to the mirror and starts fidgeting with his jumper, adjusting the profile of the large blue bird printed on the front. He smooths out the wrinkles in his plaid trousers, making sure the hems aren’t curled up and arre laid out straight over his green Gazelles. He tightens the little bun at the crown of his head and smooths the rest of the hair he’s opted to leave down with ringlets falling over his shoulders. He twists each of his rings back into place and checks the lavender polish on his nails. He’d just repainted them last night, but he notes he already has a chip on one nail that he’ll need to fix later. 

Nothing to prove, nothing to lose.

Right now it feels like everything, though. Niall pops his head back into the room and tells Harry it’s showtime. Harry crosses to the door and walks through, following Niall to the filming set. He walks over to sit on the brown leather couch and takes in the set up that’s changed since the last time he was here. The backdrop is still the exposed brick wall that he remembers from his season and it looks like the large pendulum lights are still the same. About the only thing that’s changed is that the large neon X behind the couch has changed to blue and green lights instead of pink and blue. It’s kind of comforting in a way, knowing very little has changed since he was here with Taylor. 

The camera crew are all checking their equipment, making sure their shots are lined up or whatever it is they do. Harry takes a sip of the strawberry watermelon seltzer he’d been handed and notices out of the corner of his eye that Niall is furiously typing on his phone. Harry feels like something is definitely wrong when Niall waves for them to go ahead and start filming Harry’s solo interview. Niall had said that he and Louis would have some time before they started the interviews. Maybe Louis didn’t agree to meet with him alone? Maybe that’s what has Niall so preoccupied. 

“So Harry, tell us about how the first date with Louis went.” Isaac prompts him to begin.

Harry shakes himself out of his own head at Isaac’s nudge. “Well, Louis and I met up at Conspiracy for drinks and it was really gr–”

“Cut the cameras. Stop filming…RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” Niall’s voice is laced with rage and booms over Harry’s lower, relaxed tone. Harry’s eyes dart to Niall immediately, shocked by the gruffness in his voice. 

“What? Niall, what’s–” Isaac tries to question. The room is filled with confusion and tension. Everyone’s just sort of standing around in stunned silence. Harry’s brow furrows, he draws his lip in and starts chewing on it.  

“I SAID RIGHT FUCKING NOW. CUT IT. You three, out. I need a minute with Harry.” The crew members hesitantly exit the room, closing the door behind them. Niall walks over and sits down on the sofa with Harry, turning to him with a worried look.

“What’s going on, Ni? You’re scaring me.”

“H, I’m really fucking sorry to be the one to tell you this, but–” 

“Tell me what?” What the fuck is it? What’s happened? Who died?

“He’s not coming.” The bottom of Harry’s stomach falls out of his arse immediately. He’s going to puke, no maybe he’s going to cry, or maybe he’ll just scream. Or maybe he’ll pull a hat trick and go for all three. 

Harry drops his eyes to his hands where they’re fidgeting in his lap, slowly blinking. He’s trying his best not to devolve into sobs right here in the studio. “I was texting him, thinking this whole time that he was just running late, that he was on his way and then–”

“S’fine fine, Niall. I don’t want to know.”

He thought for sure Louis would at least show up today. Especially after how he was stood up for his follow up interview after his first episode. Harry doesn’t even know how to feel about this. Anger feels unjustified because it’s not like he’s without blame in this whole thing. Confusion feels wrong too, because he knows why Louis didn’t come. He’s protecting himself and Harry can’t blame him for that. Hurt. That’s what he feels. Hurt and ache and pain and heartbreak. That’s it. That’s the final blow. He’s clearly lost Louis, but then he realizes that he never really even had him to begin with and somehow that’s even worse. 

Harry sniffles, wiping at his eyes as they start to leak. “Well, I guess that’s that then.” 

“It’s not quite over yet, H.”

“Oh yeah, they need to film me reacting all sad and disappointed that he didn’t show up. Isn’t that part of the show?” He can’t help the bitterness that falls off his tongue. Niall’s mouth presses into a hard line at the words. Harry doesn’t know if Niall feels like shit for his involvement in all of this or if he feels like shit that it’s literally part of his job to be involved in all of this.

“No. I’ll take care of all that. Even if it means my job.” Niall’s face looks determined with the words. “Harry, I’m really sorry.” 

“Not near as sorry as I am, Niall.” Harry scrubs a hand over his face, smearing the snot and tears everywhere before he stands and walks to the door.

“Wait, H. You don’t have to go right away, you can stay as long as you need. Take a minute.” 

Yeah, sitting here in this room where he was supposed to be oozing happiness about him and Louis finding each other sounds like a real blast. He was supposed to be sitting here with Louis, stealing swift kisses in between takes; holding his hand and looking at him fondly when he starts re-telling the story of how things went from his perspective. But instead he’s sitting here like the posterboy for all of the reasons why not to go on Naked Attraction.  

“Nah. I think I’d rather not sit in this reminder of how badly I’ve fucked everything up.” Harry turns the doorknob and gives Niall one last tearful look before he walks out into the hallway where the crew is all waiting with sympathetic eyes. He walks straight out of the building without so much as a word to anyone. 

He doesn’t know where the idea comes from or why he insists on punishing himself, but Harry doesn’t go home. The thought of being in an empty, quiet place just doesn’t appeal to him so he takes a long walk, sends a text, and eventually winds up standing in front of an illuminated sign mounted with wrought iron and hanging from a brick building with a glowing golden moon on it. 

After a few deep breaths and leftover tears, he pulls himself together long enough to walk in and sit down at the bar where Krystle’s friendly smile greets him. She sets a coaster in front of him. “Glad you decided to come, Harry. What’ll ya have?”

He’s happy to see her and ever so grateful she answered his text confirming that Louis had the night off. “What do you recommend for a broken heart, Krys?” 

She looks at him with sad but compassionate eyes, a frown on her face. “A pint of Cherry Garcia, a whole new wardrobe, and a week somewhere tropical? If none of that works, maybe a lobotomy. But first, you could try ‘A Million Mistakes’?” She winks and purses her lips. 

Harry snickers and it feels foreign considering it’s his first unforced laugh in weeks. “As long as there’s booze, I’m in.”  

He looks around while he’s waiting patiently for his drink, taking in the atmosphere of the place and how different it looks in the daytime. The bar isn’t quite as busy as it had been the last time he was here, but it’s only three so there’s time yet for the afterwork crowd to fill it up. He catalogs the weathered looking leather of the booths and the golden glow of the edison bulb lighting. 

The exposed brick wall with a huge blue neon sign that reads “Keep On Dreaming” almost makes him scoff in disbelief, but he can’t help but feel that Louis is all over this place.

He’s never felt so close to Louis and yet so far away from him at the same time.

Krystle finally sets his drink in front of him when he turns back toward the bar. He takes a sip and flinches a bit as the bourbon hits his throat, but after the second sip the alcohol starts to warm his empty belly. A few glugs later and his ice cubes are getting dry.

A slow, lazy grin slides its way onto his face as he digs the cherry garnish out of the bottom of the glass and sucks it into his mouth. Maybe if he gets drunk enough the smiles will keep getting easier and he can pretend it’s real happiness. “Keep ‘em coming,” he says with the cherry still intact before he pops the stem off and tosses it into the empty glass.

🍑L 🍑

“Oh, do FUCK OFF.” Louis yells at his phone as it vibrates violently, dancing across the bedside table. He had just laid down and closed his eyes to drift into a hopefully dreamless and deep sleep when the offending electronic device had commenced its shaking. It finally stops and Louis rolls over onto his other side, trying to quiet his mind again. “ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING?” The phone starts back up again after about thirty seconds of silence. He groans, rolling back to face that little dickhead of a device and sees that it’s Steve calling him. Great. Hopefully the bar isn’t on fire. 

“Yeah, what is it?” He barks, not meaning tto sound as curt and dismissive as it does, but he was so ready for a comfortable night of sleep. He hasn't been sleeping well lately, not since the date, really, and it’s been even worse the last couple of nights.

“Hey, boss. Sorry to bug you at home, but–”

Louis waits for Steve to continue, but his silence is really concerning. “What is it, Steve-O?”

“It’s– Well, it’s Harry.”

Louis sits straight up in bed. “What about Harry?”

“He’s– he’s here and– well, he’s been here since three and he’s– he’s refusing to leave. He’s–” Silence again.

“He’s what, Steve?” 

“He’s pissed and he’s umm...really emotional. Oh, Harry, mate, don’t– Fuck.” 

Great. Just fucking great. Not only did his bartenders overserve Harry– his Harry– but now he’s refusing to leave Louis’ bar so Louis has to figure something out. Did Harry fucking do this on purpose? Going to his bar with the intention of getting so wasted that they’d have to call Louis  to come face him? If he did, that’s really fucking shitty. Of course, Louis was really shitty to him by not showing for that interview. He’ll own that. Maybe this is what Louis deserves.

“Steve? Are you still there?” 

“Yeah. He’s– umm– he’s–”

“What is he doing now? Spit it out, mate.”

“He’s dancing. He– I’ve tried calling Niall a few times, but he’s not picking up. Harry said something about him going on a big date or something? I don’t know– it was confusing what with him being sloshed and all. Should I try him again?”

“No, don’t. Fuck. I’ll be there in a bit.” 

Louis drags himself out of bed and throws on a pair of joggers and a hoodie. He doesn’t even bother putting on real shoes, instead opting for a pair of slides over his socks. His hair is a right mess but who gives a fuck? Not like he needs to impress…anyone. He grabs a beanie off his dresser on the way out of the bedroom and pulls it onto his head to hide the hair that’s sticking up everywhere. 

Once he’s out the door and headed toward the bar, Louis tries to prepare himself for when he sees that face again for the first time since he found everything out. He feels no obligation to Harry in any of this, no. He’s doing this strictly as an owner of an establishment where there happens to be a person causing a…problem in his business. His objective is simply to get Harry out of there without making a scene. Fuck, that sounds so cold. 

Louis’ run the gambit of emotions since all of this happened. Initially it was sadness and hurt, then confusion and frustration, and now apparently he’s moved on to anger and bitterness. He distinctly remembers not inviting any of these guys to a sleepover tonight. His lack of sleep really is making everything worse; not sleeping has this way of bringing everything to a head. Like a picked scab with an endless blood supply. If one thing’s for sure, he knows he’s got to get the irritation under control before he walks into that bar. If he doesn’t, he’s liable to blow a fuse that can’t be repaired. 

If he’s honest with himself, Louis knows that this is all indirectly his fault. He’s not stupid enough to believe that Harry getting pissed off his face in his bar has nothing to do with the fact that Louis didn’t show up for the interview. He knew it would hurt Harry and part of him wanted that. Part of him wanted to punish Harry for keeping the truth from him…for making him hurt so badly. It was a really shitty thing to do, though. He remembers how he felt when Chris stood him up for their final interview and made him look like an absolute idiot in front of all those people. The show had just eaten it up. And poor Harry– poor, sweet, kindhearted Harry wasn’t built like Louis. He wasn’t guarded nor tough enough to deal with the fall out of that. Louis didn’t even think about any of that when he texted Niall at the last minute saying he wasn’t coming, no. He was only thinking about himself. 

He was embarrassed and ashamed of himself. Pissed off that he didn’t see it coming. He didn’t perceive Niall and Harry keeping the truth from him that whole time, making him feel like he was being used all over again when he had trusted Harry. He couldn’t see past his own hurt and his own deep pain and trauma to understand that maybe Harry was afraid to come clean. Harry was probably embarrassed and ashamed of himself too.

Louis reaches the door to the bar and pauses before grabbing the handle. He can hear the loud chattering and laughter and music inside. One last moment to himself before he enters the chaos he’s sure is waiting for him on the other side of the door. People are going to expect him to fix this, to lead and to direct and to defuse the situation. Deep breath, smile on, engaging the performer again, he steps inside End Of The Day, but no amount of deep breaths or meditating and mantras could have calmed him enough for what he finds. 

His eyes immediately land on Harry pressed against the bar with some guy leaning into him, touching him. Louis can tell in an instant that Harry is absolutely wasted. If his elbows weren’t braced on the bar with the weight of the man pressed against him, Harry would be on the floor right now with as inebriated as he is. Louis’ furious. Not only at the man who’s touching his…nevermind, but mainly at his staff who have allowed his… nevermind, to end up in this condition. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.

Louis storms over to the bar, hearing Harry giggle as he approaches. He clearly hasn’t noticed Louis, or Louis imagines he’d be in much different spirits, though with the amount of alcohol Harry’s consumed, maybe not. Louis sends a glare toward Krystle who’s avoiding eye contact like the plague. He knows she’s bricking it, but he’s not planning to give her a dressing down in front of the entire bar. That’s not Louis’ style at all, but that doesn’t stop him from shooting daggers with his eyes. He looks over at Steve whose face is stuck in a mix of sympathy and guilt. Louis thinks it’s probably because he couldn’t keep a handle on Harry, which has resulted in Harry drunkenly eye-fucking this stranger who’s salivating over him like he’s filet mignon. 

The guy’s tall with a hideous bleached blonde spiky haircut and a pair of wrap around Oakley sunglasses pushed into his fake blonde locks. He’s wearing an Affliction shirt and baggy jeans like he’s just come from an MMA fight. What a douchecanoe. There’s no way Harry would give this guy the time of day if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind right now. 

Louis’ just standing there unnoticed and surveying the scene when the tall cuntfaced cockslapper raises a hand and brushes a stray curl behind Harry’s ear. Louis practically starts foaming at the mouth. His fingers clench into fists and his arms go completely rigid by his sides, blood turning to lava in his veins. He wishes he were a dragon so he could dracarys the fuck out of this shitbag for touching his baby. 

Instead he takes a deep breath and wordlessly pulls up a stool next to them at the bar. Harry still hasn’t clocked him, lost in the eyes of the tall fuckwad moving in on him. “Steve, can I get a City’s Sleeping? Think I’m gonna need some refreshment if I’m gonna be up to extinguishing all these flames.” 

Harry’s head snaps in his direction, clearly hearing him that time. “Louis.” It’s a whisper, and the bar is loud, and yet somehow, Louis still hears it. There’s a moment of recognition in Harry’s eyes, but it’s shadowed with regret. 

“By all means, don’t let me interrupt.” Louis’ eyes return forward as he brings the drink to his lips, needing all the courage he can get right now. 

“Oh, no…he’s not my L-Louis.” The tone of Harry’s voice is high and giddy, his speech slurred as he giggles out the words. “He must be sssomeone else’s Louis.” Harry laughs and turns back to the knockoff/less handsome Paul Walker. 

“Pity that. I definitely own this bar, so I am the Louis that’s here to cut you off, unfortunately.” 

“Issis guy bothering you, sweetie pie?” The tall bag of dicks speaks and looks at Louis like he’s gonna pretend to be a tough guy, puffing out his chest as if he’s either gonna strut around like a peacock or challenge Louis to a dance battle. 

“Oohhh, a pissing contest? Brilliant idea! I’ll go first.” Louis slowly rises to his feet and turns toward them. “Did you hear me when I said I OWN this bar, mate? I’d highly suggest you walk away from Harry, who is far too drunk to consent by the way, and my bar if you ever want to be welcomed back here again or I WILL remove you myself and I will NOT be as kind as my words have been.” Louis stares down the tall, blonde, lanky pisskidney towering over him. “Trust me when I say that I’m secretly hoping you choose option B.” Louis cracks his knuckles, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and his eyes blazing with  ‘FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT’. 

The man holds his palms up in surrender and starts to back away. “Hey, man. I don’t want no trouble, ok?” Imitation Paul Walker says before moving to the other side of the bar. 

“No harm, mate.” Louis rubs his lips together, his eyes falling on Harry who looks super annoyed with him. 

“Nope, definitely not my Louis.” Harry falls forward against the stool catching himself on the seat of it so he doesn’t plummet toward the ground. “Oopsies.” He turns back toward the bar and picks up the drink the guy left, the blue liquid sloshing from the glass as he lifts it up to take a sip. “Ohhh more drinkies!” Harry remarks excitedly. 

“Think you’ve had about enough drinkies, don’t you think, love?” Louis takes the drink from Harry’s hand as he wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulders to hold himself up. 

“Ssstill not my Louiiiiis.” Harry boops his nose, Louis scrunches it in response and snakes an arm around Harry to help steady him. 

“Well, who am I then, Harry?”

“Well, you’re not my Louis because my Louis isn’t here. He wasn’t there today. He isn’t anywhere. Your eyes aren’t my Louis blue at all. They’re angry blue.” Harry’s face starts to droop, looking sad, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Don’t know where he is, but he isn’t here. Dunno where he’s gone. Maybe he just POOF–” Harry waves a hand in front of his face, his unfocused eyes looking up into the open air, “–disappeared.” He breaks out into giggles again, the tears forgotten in an instant and replaced with silliness. 

“Come on, giggles, let’s get you home.” Louis’ trying his best to hold it together and to not completely break down at what he’s done to Harry. He feels like pondscum. All his anger and bravado have evaporated, leaving only regret in their wake.

Harry shakes his head, wobbling like he’s gonna topple over. “Don’t wanna go home. Wanna go to Louis’.”

Louis sighs. He's entirely too tired and to weak to say no. “Well, I’ll take you to Louis’ then.” 

“Steven, did you hear that? NOT Louis here is gonna take me to my Louis’. I’ve gotta go. Kindest wishes and warmest regards to the family.” Harry waves and blows kisses to everyone as they pass, his arm still wrapped around Louis, leaning into his side. His breath smells like rubbing alcohol and he’s sweaty and stumbling instead of walking, but Louis appreciates the level of warmth that only Harry can provide and relishes the sweet smell that only Harry can emanate. Once they’ve successfully made it out the door Louis allows himself to get lost in it all for a moment only because Harry’s too drunk to realize. He runs a gentle hand up from Harry’s hip under his jumper at the swell above his hip bone just to feel the heat of his skin. His arm tightens around Harry’s back as he internally curses the material for being thick enough that he can’t feel the lithe muscles he knows reside underneath. He aches to feel more of Harry’s skin against his own. He can’t help but look up at Harry’s profile for just an instant, taking in the dusting of facial hair on his jaw and the curve of his upper lip. Harry just so happens to look over at him, somehow sensing that Louis’ gaze is honed in on him.

“There you are, my Louis.” Harry stops and turns to him, grasping Louis’ face in his hands. “I– I couldn’t find you. Looked for you. Was waiting forever. There was another man– he felt... he was all wrong. Eyes were the wrong color too. Not Louis blue.” Before he realizes what’s happening, Harry is kissing him, his lips pressing into Louis’ in a sloppy mess of a smooch. Louis doesn’t kiss him back, feeling like he doesn’t deserve to and not willing to take advantage of Harry while he’s in this state. 

Instead Louis just waits for Harry to pull away and then Harry gets this look on his face, his eyes widening and his throat twitching. Harry’s going to be sick. Louis quickly moves to his side,  hunches him over, and pulls his hair back just before he vomits all over the sidewalk. He waits for Harry to heave a few times, making sure he gets everything up, rubbing his back all the while. Once Harry’s finally emptied the contents of his stomach, Louis wraps his arm back around Harry’s shoulders and continues hobbling on down the sidewalk until they’ve finally reached his flat. 

Once he gets Harry inside, he deposits him on the bed, removing his shoes and socks and jumper first, then pulling the hair tie out of the tangled remnant of a bun on his head and scooping his hair gently up into a more secure bun. 

“Harry, do you have to work tomorrow? Do I need to call someone and tell them you’re sick?”

“Nopey. Talked to someone earlier. When I was less– blurry.” Louis smiles at the word choice. He can’t help but be endeared by Harry’s goofy drunken musings. “SARAH! That’s her. She was– oof, was she maaaad at me. But she’ll make sure the people get their eggs and shit.” Louis stifles a laugh. 

Louis stands Harry up to remove his trousers and then gently sits him back on the edge of the bed. He walks to the cupboard and grabs Harry a pair of roomy sweats and an old, ratty, oversized t-shirt that he thinks is the most comfortable one he owns. Louis slips the shirt onto him and then stands him back up, bracing Harry’s hands on his shoulders so that he can slip into the sweats one leg at a time. Louis places the waistband snug around Harry’s hips, but stops himself from letting his touch linger or allowing himself to pepper Harry with gentle kisses like he truly wants. 

“Now you’re dressing me, Lou.” Harry says with a giggle. Louis nods and smiles softly, leading Harry into the ensuite where he wets a flannel and wipes the remnants of the sick off of his face. Louis loads a spare toothbrush with toothpaste and hands it off to Harry, telling him to brush while he gets him some water and some painkillers. 

Louis walks into the kitchen and lets out a giant sigh now that he’s finally out of Harry’s presence for a moment. Bringing Harry into his space was a terrible idea but he’d gone completely soft when he saw how sad he’d made him by not being there today. Hell of a way to pay for that error in judgment, Tomlinson. Nice one. Louis grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, a couple of tablets of paracetamol from the cupboard, and heads back into the bedroom to find Harry snuggled up in his bed. 

“Not my Louis.”

Louis places the tablets on the bedside table next to the water and grabs a bin from the ensuite just in case Harry gets sick again. 

“We’re back to that now, are we?”

“My Louis would never wear socks with sssslides.” Harry yawns and rubs his eyes sleepily before snuffly snores almost immediately begin to emit from him. 

Louis laughs silently as he sits quietly down on the edge of the bed beside where Harry’s sawing logs. He traces the line of Harry’s brow to the center where it is furrowing and smooths the crease out before returning the finger to his own lips, kissing it and placing it briefly on Harry’s dry lips. Louis sits for a moment, watching him sleep before finally managing to tear himself away, even though every cell in his body is screaming at him to stay and snuggle up to Harry’s back. 

He deserves to be held every night, Louis thinks. Harry deserves every tenderness there is. Every kind word and every soft touch. He deserves someone to dress him in intimate moments, sprinkling him with gentle kisses. He deserves breakfast in bed cooked for him once in a while. Flowers every Sunday. Date nights every Friday. Foot massages after a particularly busy brunch service. But most importantly he deserves someone who’ll show up for him when it’s most important. Someone who’ll forgive him. Someone who’ll hear him out when there’s a misunderstanding. Harry deserves so many things that Louis wants to give him, but mainly Harry deserves better. 

Louis takes the pillow from the other side of the bed and hauls himself to the living room, sliding off the slides that he hadn’t realized were still on his feet and leaving them next to the door. He sinks into his couch, covering up with the throw blanket that was draped over the backrest, and smushing the pillow underneath his head. He breathes out the excess air his lungs have seemingly been holding the entire night, closing his eyes and allowing his exhaustion to finally get the best of him. Hopefully when he wakes, a good night’s sleep will have righted all the wrongs, filled in all the cracks, and mended all the ripped seams. But for now he’ll let himself dance in a dreamworld where things are much simpler and hearts don’t get broken. He’ll skip through a field of wildflowers, catching fireflies, and wishing on every falling star that he could be…better. 

🍆H 🍆

Harry wakes up regretting every decision he’s ever made in his life. Hangovers tend to do that. He doesn’t know if it’s the marching band traipsing through his brain or the tilt-a-whirl spinning in his stomach that makes him question the path that brought him here, but he doesn’t really care. He just needs water and he needs it fast. He turns to his left and finds a bottle of water and two tablets. Bless you, Niall. Wait. He looks around the room as he downs the meds and two large gulps of water and everything is unfamiliar. It’s only when his eyes catch on a familiar orange polo shirt balled up on top of the dresser that he realizes where he is. He’s in Louis’ bedroom. 

Like a flood, the memories of what happened last night gush through his mind and his head starts to ache and pound double time. Fuck, this is bad. He has a hunch Louis went to sleep on the couch, giving him his space, and if he’s right, there’s no way he’s sneaking out without Louis seeing him. That isn’t going to stop him from trying, though. 

Harry gingerly pads around the room collecting his clothes, drinking the rest of the water before getting dressed as quietly as he can, and tiptoes to the door. He peeks his head out and looks around to find that Louis is, thankfully, still sleeping on the couch. Harry slinks to the front door, turning the knob as quietly as he can, and pulls the door open without a sound. It’s at that moment that his phone starts ringing at full volume, startling Louis awake, his eyes immediately searching for the source of the noise and finding Harry in the open doorway. Harry exhales the breath he’s been holding, his eyes pleading with Louis to let him go. He quickly turns and closes the door behind him, speed walking down the hallway as Louis yells his name. He’s entirely too hungover to do this right now. 

Once he reaches the main door to the building he propels himself outside into the bright light of the morning, his eyes stinging from the daytime glow, his heart pounding. He smells like a mixture of alcohol and sweat and all he wants is a shower, something greasy, and a coma to swallow up the memories of last night. 

“Harry, wait!” Louis’ voice echoes in his head. He can feel the throbbing radiating through his entire body at this point. 

“Louis, please, I– I just need to get home. I don’t feel well.” The rasp of his throat makes it evident they’re the first words he’s spoken today and the tears are already threatening to fall.

“Just come back inside, please? I’ll make you some coffee.” Louis holds his arms out, pleading with Harry.

“Don’t want coffee. I just want to go home. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime.” Harry scrubs a hand over his face in frustration. He’s trying his best to hold himself back from letting Louis see the agony within him, but he knows it’s pretty much no use. Louis probably already saw plenty last night.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Louis’ breathing heavy with the pace Harry’s keeping. In his defense his legs are shorter than Harry's, but he isn’t concerned with making things fair for Louis at this point. He’d been humiliated by Louis and then he’d humiliated himself last night at the bar, and again afterwards with Louis. “Jesus, Harry, can you slow down? I haven’t had my coffee yet either. Oh yeah, you prefer chai, right? I think you mentioned that the other night.”

Since when the fuck does it matter to Louis what he prefers? He’s getting more annoyed by the minute at Louis’ attempts to chase him down when he’s already doing the walk of shame and is clearly not in the mood for companionship. 

“Just let me go, Louis. I’m hungover and I’m exhausted, ok?” He’s trying his best not to snap, to keep his tone calm and even, but with his insides feeling like day old lasagne, it’s getting a bit difficult to keep the irritation and sadness at bay.

“Harry, I just want to talk–” Louis grabs his forearm to gently stop him. That’s when Harry explodes.

“Oh NOW, you want to talk, huh?” Harry turns to Louis, raising his voice and shaking off his touch. “You didn’t give a fuck about talking to me yesterday, Louis! You left me to face all of those people alone. You made a fool out of me. I tried my best to get you to talk to me for WEEKS. Yeah, I fucked up. I know I did. You didn’t even give me a chance to apologize and explain. All I wanted was for you to give me a chance and to hear me out, but you didn’t want anything to do with me and then you left me sitting there in front of a camera looking like–” Harry scrubs a hand over his face, his brow pouring with sweat, and tears beginning to flow from his eyes. He’s either going to puke or pass out any minute. He tries to calm himself down and lower his tone so he’s not yelling. “The worst part about it is that you know how that feels– you’ve been there and you went ahead and did it to me anyway. I may have not been completely transparent from the beginning, Louis, but it wasn’t a concious decision to keep anything from you and I fucking regret it with my entire being. But you’d have known that if you just would have called me back or replied to my text or just shown up yesterday. But you didn’t. And now, after a meaningless drunken flirtation with another guy sends you into a jealous rage, and after a few pats on the head before putting my drunk arse to bed, you think something has changed? You didn’t show up for me, Louis. When I really needed you to. As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to talk about.” 

Louis looks stunned at all that Harry just unloaded on him. Harry turns and starts to walk away, but Louis’ voice stops him in his tracks. 

“So that’s it, then? You get to vomit all of that all over me and I don’t get to say anything in response? That’s not fair, Harry. And you know it.” Harry turns back to face him, crossing his arms across his chest and keeping his distance. He’s trying to communicate anger with his body language even though the tears now streaming down his face are telling the story of how heartbroken he truly is.

“Yeah, well life’s not fair sometimes, Louis.” Harry glares at him. He’s so pissed at Louis for making him hash this out while he’s hungover. 

Louis scoffs. “Harry, you’re angry because you’re hungover and you feel like shit, which is well deserved, may I remind you. I know I should have been there yesterday, ok? I know I should have shown up, but I was so fucking pissed at you. After I let you in, after I trusted you to be different– to find out that you knew who I was all along, to find out that you’d been borderline stalking me for years? And that Niall had arranged for you to be on that show…I felt used. I felt like I had no idea who you really were. And when you’ve been used and abused and tricked as much as I have in my life, that’s bound to hit a nerve, Harry.” Louis shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips in frustration. “I wanted to hurt you. I admit it. I wanted to punish you and that was wrong. And yes, I was fucking jealous last night. When I saw that guy touching you, in– in my bar..my safe space, I wanted to– Fuck, Harry, I’m not a violent guy but I wanted to rip his esophagus out and jump rope with it.” Harry cringes at the mental image that evokes. Louis’ face remains serious. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up for you. You deserve…better…than that. And I– that’s all I wanted to say.” 

Better. Louis thinks he deserves better. How does he tell Louis that even though he’s furious with him right now, even in the midst of all the hurt and the frustration with their lack of communication…even with the humiliation of the last twenty four hours and the jealous fit last night, that he doesn’t want better? He just wants Louis. 

“I think– I think we should just take some space.” Louis looks like he’s been pummeled in the stomach with the words, his arms wrapping around his abdomen.

“If– if that’s what you want.” Louis’ voice breaks a bit as he nods. Harry wants nothing more than to reach out to him, to pull him into his arms and kiss it better, but he stops himself. It’s probably just his hangover making him overly emotional. His empathy is probably heightened because he’s definitely still upset with himself and with Louis. He needs time to get himself together, time to process and lick his wounds.

Louis just stands there, moving his hands to his hips, his head lowered in defeat. Harry turns to head toward the tube station. He doesn’t dare look back for fear that his resolve will weaken and he’ll crumble at the sound of one more syllable from Louis. 

Harry arrives home still aggravated and shaky, slamming the door behind him causing Niall to jump up from the couch with a shout. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Niall.”

“S’ok, mate. I only got home a few hours ago. I must’ve dozed off here waiting to hear back from you. What time s’it?” Niall yawns and stretches. 

“Just past nine.” 

“Shit. I was worried about you. Called you like a million times once I saw all the missed calls and voicemails.” Niall rubs his eyes to rid himself of the leftover sleepiness. “Tough night, Bruce Banner?”

“Tough morning, actually.” Harry tosses his keys in the bowl by the door. 

“I hear that. I can smell the alcohol from here. Your head must be fucked.” Niall hops up from the couch and heads to the kitchen to start his coffee.

“In more ways than one.” Harry mutters under his breath. 

“Go shower, H. I’ll get some brekky on for us. Soak up the liquor.” Niall winks. Harry smiles weakly and heads into his room to freshen up. 

Once Harry’s in the privacy of his own room he feels like he can breathe again. He still feels like shit both physically and emotionally, but maybe some hot water and fresh clothes will help. He starts to peel his jumper off when he realizes that, in his haste to get dressed this morning, he had pulled his jumper on over Louis’ Black Sabbath t-shirt. He lifts up the loose collar of the shirt and takes a sniff of it. Not to see if it smells like Louis, of course, but just to– just to see if it’s umm– clean. Yeah, that’s why. He also doesn’t brush his teeth in the shower because it reminds him of Louis either. He just– he wants to save time and– and water. Yeah, that’s why. And if he puts the Black Sabbath T-shirt back on after his shower for– oh, who the fuck is he kidding? LOOK AWAY, HE’S WEAK, OK???

Harry heads back to the kitchen to find Niall shoveling eggs on top of the toast on his plate and pushing a mug of steaming oat milk chai latte toward him. This is Heaven and Niall is his hangover guardian angel. Harry plants himself on one of the tall chairs at the kitchen counter. He folds his elbows on the cold counter in front of him and lowers his forehead to rest on his forearms. He hears Niall set his plate next to his head, the smell of the food wafting up and into his nostrils. His stomach turns, making him groan. 

“I know it’s probably dog food compared to what you would have made, but eat it. You’ll feel better.”

“No, I won’t.” His throbbing head and his queasy tummy are the least of his worries. “I talked to him.” He lifts his head to find Niall looking at him with raised eyebrows as he munches on his toast. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t answer. Set my phone to do-not-disturb while Shawn and I– well, it’s not important right now. What happened?”

Harry nods in response. “Louis showed up. I was flirting with this guy and he threw a jealous fit and took me to his flat.” 

“How was the angry jealous makeup sex?”

Harry scoffs. “There wasn’t any makeup sex. Although, I’m pretty sure I kissed him at some point. And he dressed me for bed.” 

“Well, that explains the Black Sabbath tee, but you didn’t capitalize on what I’m sure was a sexy possessive display of manliness?” Niall clicks his tongue. “You’re slipping in your old age.” 

“Yeah, well the puking might have been a turn off.” 

“Yikes.” Undeterred, Niall happily chomps away on his toast and sips his coffee.

“Yikes, indeed.” Harry takes a sip of his toasty drink, feeling the liquid travel all the way down his esophagus and warming his belly. Niall continues standing there in the kitchen long after his mug and his plate are empty, waiting as Harry takes small bites of food and fills him in on the morning sidewalk yelling match. 

“Well, FUCK.” Niall Horan. Eloquent as always.

“Well, FUCK, indeed.” Harry replies with a snicker, feeling a bit better now that he’s got some food and a healthy bit of caffeine in him. “Enough about my relationship issues. How did it go with Shawn?”

A delighted smile blossoms on Niall’s face. “Good. We’re uh– we’re good.”

Harry pushes aside his own self-pity for a moment to be happy for his best friend and to hopefully take some of the spotlight off of him and Louis as well. “That’s amazing, Ni. I’m– I’m really happy for you two. You’re so unsure of yourself, but you really deserve someone wonderful because you’re wonderful. Don’t doubt yourself anymore, ok?” 

Niall smirks. “Thought we weren’t talking about your relationship issues anymore?” Harry glares at him. “Pot, meet Kettle.” Niall gestures between them. Well, so much for diverting the attention from himself.

“I’m not– I don’t– Oh, FUCK off.”

“Yeah. So the way I see it, he’s guarded and has a hard time trusting people and you don’t feel you’re worthy of him OR worthy of love. There’s an easy fix for both of those. Do you just want to vent or do you want my advice?” 

Harry smiles at Niall’s gentle question and the autonomy contained within. “Please enlighten me, Obiwan.”

“I identify more with Yoda than Obiwan, but whatever…s’not important. You both have trust issues, they’re just different brands.” Harry’s brow furrows in consideration of Niall’s words. “In regards to trust, a wise man once said, ‘You can’t go the distance with too much resistance.’” Harry’s quite taken aback at Niall’s insight.

“Hm. Who said that?” 

“Billy Joel.” Harry collapses onto the counter with laughter. “What? Lyrics can be wisdom, H.”

“Hasn’t he been married like four times or something?” Harry 

“Yeah, so he really knows. Practically makes him an expert.” Niall shrugs. “Listen, the source doesn’t matter all that much if the message rings true. You and Louis are going to have to learn to trust each other. It’ll take time, but you can start by simply being honest and knowing when to be quiet.” 

“Be quiet? We can barely talk to each other!”

“There’s a time to talk and time to listen. Both skills are learned.” Ok, so Niall is actually pretty insightful, Harry decides, Billy Joel quotes and all. Harry nods in agreement, taking time to let himself ruminate on the advice he’s been given. 

Niall walks around the kitchen counter and heads for the door, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his jacket. “Oh, and H?” He looks back at Harry just before he opens the door. Harry swivels his chair around to face him. “We still have to do that final interview. I can hold them off for a few more days, but it does have to be done at some point, per your contract.” Harry hadn’t even considered that he’d have to be put in that position again. 

“I think– I think it’ll give you some closure, maybe? Depending on what you decide during your ‘space’. Just– think it over, yeah?” Niall exits the flat, leaving Harry with the dirty dishes and entirely too much to contemplate for a Friday afternoon. 

🍑L 🍑

Louis gives himself one last look in the mirror, straightening his black vest underneath the black mesh jacket he’d decided to wear.

He turns to make sure there’s no lint on the arse of his skinnies. Black on black on black feels a bit morbid, like he’s going to a funeral or something, but he figures he is sort of in mourning so it’s fitting. It feels a bit dramatic to call it mourning, but Harry hasn’t called him in a week and he’s feeling really uncertain about it all. 

He’d picked up his phone to call or text Harry every day since that argument on the sidewalk in front of his flat, and every day he’d reminded himself that Harry wanted space and that he would absolutely give Harry anything he wanted. He hadn’t really thought about how much he had missed Harry until he had been in his presence again. He felt like a poisoned man with the antidote set before him. His body was screaming at him to cure the illness and to inject Harry into his veins again, easing the inflammation and the ache. 

Instead of assuaging his own yearning, he’d been living in the memory of that last night with Harry. Even though Harry was drunk, it had felt so good to take care of him, helping him to bed. Louis only regrets not climbing in beside him, not feeling Harry’s heat burning his skin, and whispering to him how perfect he is as he slept. All Louis wanted was to hold Harry again, to tell him how being away from him felt so wrong, so foreign and miserable. Jesus, Louis was becoming pathetic over a guy he met like a month ago. 

There’s a knock on the door and Niall comes staggering in holding a clipboard, headset cocked sideways on his head. His clothes look slightly disheveled and he’s missed a button on his shirt. 

“Mate, did you get dressed in the dark or summat?” 

Niall giggles. “Umm– not quite. Shawn. Lunch date.” Niall looks down sheepishly, smiling to himself. 

Lous smirks, laughing internally. “Say no more.” 

“He’s insatiable, Louis, like he does this thing with my knee pit and it’s–”

“Niall, I really meant it when I said ‘say no more’.”

Niall sends him a mischievous smile. “We’re ready whenever you are.”

“Let’s do it.” No time like the present to relive his latest in a series of terrible decisions that result in the anguish and suffering of everyone around him.

“Alright, so we just need to shoot a few promo snippets first. Those will be on the main stage and then I’ll take you to the B set, where we’ll do the final interview.” 

“Sounds good, mate.” 

Niall ushers him through the door to the main stage. It’s dark in the room save the main lights. The pods are all faintly colored shadowy masses. It feels slightly out of the ordinary without the colorful rainbow of lights surrounding them like usual. 

“Shit. They forgot to light the pods. Can’t properly film promo without those babies turned on. I’ll be right back, Lou.” Niall winks at him and then exits out a side door hollering at someone about the lights. 

Louis takes in the quiet on the set, looking around at the room as memories of the time he’s spent in this room flood his mind. He thinks back to the first time he was on this stage, naked in the green pod, and how he’d felt like such an idiot standing there waiting for someone to take one look at his dick and dismiss him, never for one second thinking that something done on a stupid drunken dare would change the course of his life so greatly. He had still been healing from his break up with Blake and it had felt good to be picked by someone as attractive as Chris, but then he’d felt more rejected than ever after all was said and done. 

He thinks about the first time he’d set his eyes on Harry. The feeling of needing to know more about the man in the blue box at all cost. The way his thighs went up in flames when he saw Harry’s naked body and the way his heart skipped a beat when his face was finally revealed and they locked eyes for the first time. He was yanked in Harry’s direction by his heart and his cock from the very beginning. He’s chuckling to himself at this acknowledgment when the pods light up, startling him and causing him to turn to face them.

There’s a shadow in the blue pod that captures his attention right away. Perhaps it’s just a maintenance worker or maybe Niall’s playing a joke on him? It’s then, in the middle of convincing himself that it couldn’t be who he hopes it is, that the partition on the pod starts to rise and a familiar pair of legs comes into view.

OH FUCK EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE IN THE NAME OF GAY JESUS.

He’s naked. Harry is naked. In the buff. VERY NUDE. It’s not like Louis hasn’t seen it before, but fuck a flamethrower why is he here now and why is he naked and WHY IS HE HERE NOW???

“Harry, what–” 

“Don’t say anything, Lou. Just– can you let me talk for a bit?” Harry holds his palms up in a halting motion. Louis can only nod in response. He’s so stunned by the fact that Harry is here and starkers that he doesn’t even know what he would have said if he’d been allowed to finish his sentence. 

“Ok, well I’ll start with why I’m here. I– I kind of asked Niall to arrange this for me so I could have time to say all the things I need to say…all the thoughts I’ve had for the past week, but really all the thoughts I’ve had for the past month or so. I guess the first thing I wanted to say is I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for what happened. I didn’t intend to keep anything from you or to make you feel used or to remind you of the shitty way you’ve been treated in the past. I’ll admit that I was really fucking scared to tell you. I thought you would probably think I was pathetic for pining for years over someone I didn’t know and it would be awkward, but I hoped that our connection was strong enough to survive it. But then…our date was so perfect, so fun and carefree and so intense that I didn’t even have an opportunity to bring it up, and then Niall went and did it for me. I’m kind of glad he did though, honestly, because I think I might have died of embarrassment if I had to tell you that I wanked to your episode.” Louis snorts, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. “I swear it was only ONCE!” Louis looks at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok, maybe twice.” Harry looks at him guiltily, but it’s really fucking cute so Louis just rolls his eyes fondly. 

“Anyway, you not showing up for the final interview really did hurt me. I won’t lie about that either. I know I yelled at you about it that day on the sidewalk, but it wasn’t about the stupid interview or the humiliation, it was the fact that you didn’t show up for me. I felt abandoned. But then, over the past week, I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter if you didn’t show up for me that day. Because you did that night. Even when I didn’t deserve it because I went to your place of business and made a drunken idiot of myself…just to feel close to you. But even if you hadn’t shown up for me that night, I don’t think it would have made a difference because, with the way I feel about you and with how amazing I think we could be together…I care enough to show up for both of us.” 

Louis doesn’t even know what to say. He remembers how nervous he was to sign up for the show again and how he had said he was so tired of giving and giving and giving only for his partners to take take take and never give back. He remembers thinking he had desperately wanted someone who would want to give as well as take. An equal in partnership. And here Harry was showing up for him, ready to give and not take, and suddenly Louis’ overwhelmed. 

“You said that I deserved better when we were fighting on the street like a couple of dickheads, but even in the middle of us yelling at each other on a sidewalk in broad daylight, all I could think about was how much I wanted you. So I’m gonna politely disagree with the statement that I deserve better because I’ve decided that I deserve you. That’s what I want. Just you. Not some future improved or healed version of you. I want you. So I’m here…and naked…again.” Harry laughs and Louis realizes how much he missed that sound. That goofy, high-pitched cackle. “Just like the day we met. Minus the cameras. Asking for a do-over. A fresh start. Because you’re worth it and so am I.”

Louis doesn’t say a word. He just looks down thoughtfully for a moment before walking slowly towards the blue pod. He extends a hand to Harry. “Hi! I’m Louis Tomlinson. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiles up at Harry, beaming with joy. 

Harry reaches down and clasps his hand in Louis’, shaking for a second before Louis pulls him down from the pod with such force that he falls clumsily into Louis’ arms. “Whoops.” Harry giggles, wrapping his arms around Louis. “I’m– I’m Harry Styles. It’s a pleasure, I’m sure.” For a moment they just look at each other with sparkling eyes and smiling lips and quickened breaths before Louis closes the millimeter of distance between them with a gentle but passionate kiss. 

Time slows to a halt as Louis tastes and touches Harry again. And Louis relishes in the feeling of being tasted and touched by Harry as well. Harry’s hands are on his face, his perfectly curved lips are feathery light against Louis’, and his tongue is playfully teasing Louis’ inside his mouth. They spend what seems like forever learning each other again and they’re both apt and enthusiastic students. Once they’ve pulled apart after who knows how long of being joined at the edges, Louis thinks perhaps he should speak. 

“Harry. I don’t– I don’t have any grand declaration or flowery words prepared to say, but I do want to say again that I’m sorry for not being here for you when you needed me. I was a coward. And I’m going to do bett–” Harry raises his eyebrows and shakes his head slightly. Louis snickers lightly and shuffles his words. “I’m going to learn to open up more, because I think we’re worth it too. It’s hard for me to trust, as you’ve discovered, but that bit you said about showing up for the both of us? You don’t have to do that, because from here on out if you’ll let me…I want to show up for you. I want us to show up for each other.” 

Harry brings his hand up to Louis’ face, stroking his cheek with the tips of his fingers. “That’s pretty good for not having any flowery words or grand declarations prepared, Lou.”

“Mmmm. Well, you did give me a pretty good start, baby.” Louis feels Harry press his semi into his thigh.

“I’ll say I did.” Louis rolls his eyes at Harry’s implication.

They stand there taking each other in. Basking in their shared space and breath. There’s a silent acknowledgement that there are still more words to be spoken and challenges to be worked through, but Louis is sure that they’ll both be happy to wade through it together considering they’ve decided to give each other a second chance. Louis isn’t going to let them waste it.

“Harry, are you aware that you’re still naked?” They laugh into each other's mouths for another kiss; this time it’s messier but somehow sweeter.

“Yeah. You should join me. It feels great. You’re almost there, though, because what even is this jacket…mesh? Are you wearing a fucking mesh jacket over a vest? Honestly, fuck you for this!” Louis laughs breathily. 

“Like that, wouldn’t you? I could have you up against this lovely blue pod, legs spread in an instant, baby, couldn’t I?”

“YOU TWO HORNY FUCKERS BETTER NOT DARE. I’M NOT CLEANING UP YOUR JIZZ.” Niall’s voice booms over the studio speakers, causing Harry and Louis to break into belly laughs at the realization that Niall had been observing them this whole time. 

“So does that mean I’m getting a second date, then?” Louis smirks because he can, turning his attention back to Harry.

“I’d say your chances are pretty good. Shall we discuss it over breakfast, maybe? I know a great little brunch place.” Harry winks because he can, lowering his hand to squeeze Louis’ bum.

“Or perhaps a drink? There’s this shithole bar with a flaming blue cocktail that I think you’ll just love.” Louis looks at Harry like he’s got his entire future in his smile. Louis thinks he just might.

“Oh God, don’t mention cocktails to me. I’m still trying to get over my hangover from a week ago, Lou. I think I have PTSD. What do you even put in your alcohol?” Louis takes Harry’s hand and they start walking towards the exit to the greenrooms.

“Don’t look at me like that. I still can’t look at cinnamon rolls without getting hard because of you. And forget caramel sauce, it’s simply ruined for all eternity.” Harry makes eye contact with Louis and licks the tip of each of his fingers as Louis groans. 

“So no drinks, no breakfast or brunch. Lunch? Dinner?” Harry inquires just as they reach the door to the greenroom, Louis pausing with a hand hovering over the knob.

“Mmmm what about…Dessert.” Louis smiles wickedly, swinging the door open for Harry to walk through, grabbing his bum as he passes, causing Harry to yelp and shriek with giggles all the way into the room.

Louis stares at him from the open doorway, his hand still holding the knob, completely enamored with this man he chose on this second chances edition of Naked Attraction, a man who, in a symbolically stripped down display of vulnerability and meekness, just chose him back. There’s no disputing that Naked Attraction is a strange way to meet a significant other, but there’s something so brilliant in the idea that the physical absence of clothes, this idea of standing there wearing only your skin, leads to a certain kind of honesty and openness. A literal naked truth, if you will. And Louis can’t deny that this crazy notion worked. It led him to a place where he is ready to trust someone with his heart again, he is ready to let down his guard. 

Louis was a man who gambled on second chances. He had taken one in running as fast as he could away from Blake, giving himself a second chance at loving himself. He had rolled the dice on End Of The Day and the vision of what it could become. He had said yes reluctantly when the producers had called and offered him a spot as the picker on the second chances episode, even though it felt like a crapshoot. And now, he was ready to give a second chance to this wonderful man in front of him, beautiful in body, beautiful in face, beautiful in heart, spirit, soul, and mind. Some people are definitely worth a second chance…and a third…and a fourth…and a fifth…and as many as it takes. And as it turns out, Louis knows that they both are. 

“Lou, y’alright?” Harry looks up from where he is fastening his trousers, noticing that Louis was still lingering in the doorway.

“Yeah, baby. Right as rain, actually.” Louis smiles warmly, letting go of the door handle. 

And for the first time since Louis doesn’t know when, he walks through a door without having to still himself with a deep breath to calm his racing heart, he doesn’t have to  grip the doorknob like he’s choking it, nor does he have to plaster on a pretend smile, turning on the charm in performance for an audience. He walks through in assurance and calm, with a genuine smile and an unguarded heart, knowing that what’s waiting on the other side is his future, beautiful and bright. 

End. Well, sort of.

Chapter Text

Epilogue: All This Late Night Talking

🍆H 🍆

“Things have been good, yeah?” 

Harry watches as his on-screen self looks off camera at what he knows is a very smiley, cuddly looking Louis. He distinctly remembers wanting to kiss Louis and thinking that it had been way too long since he’d kissed Louis’ lips even though it had literally only been minutes. 

“Yeah, love, I’d say things have been pretty perfect, actually.” On screen, Louis walks into the frame and sits beside Harry on the leather couch. 

“Louis, you’re missing the follow up interview. Hurry up!”

“Just pause it, baby, I’ll be right there. Where the fuck are your big bowls? I need a big bowl for the popcorn.” 

“Same place it always is, Lou. Corner cabinet.” 

Louis walks into the living room a moment later with the popcorn. “S’Niall at Shawn’s tonight?”

“Yep. I asked him to vacate the premises so we could be loud.”

“Speak for yourself, baby, I’m always loud.” Louis leans down and kisses Harry’s cheek before settling in beside him on the couch and tossing the throw blanket back over their legs. 

They had decided to spend the night in, finally watching their episode and catching up on sex and snogging since it was Louis’ planned evening off. Their conflicting schedules had been a real challenge the past few months since they filmed their final interview. It had been Louis’ idea for them to each take a planned day off every week, but not without protest from Harry. 

It had been a heated discussion, Harry putting up quite the argument about it, angry that Louis would even ask such a thing of him. He had emotionally shut down and stopped talking to Louis altogether, touting that he was ‘fine’ and replying ‘whatever you say, Louis’ every time Louis would try to bring the discussion back up before he finally stormed out of Louis’ flat with steam practically pouring from his ears. They had talked it through after Louis had shown up at the restaurant the next day with a gorgeous bouquet as a peace offering and Sarah had ordered Harry out of the kitchen to go sort his shit out.

They had since become pretty competent at talking things through and listening to one another but, as Niall said, both are learned skills and Louis and Harry were both still learning each other as well. Likes and dislikes, stressors and triggers, communication styles and love languages. They’ve been learning to love each other, even though neither of them has said it yet. Harry’s wanted to say it since the day they fondly observe as their ‘Second Chanciversary”, Harry had come up with the name of course and Louis had just rolled his eyes with fondness, but he was worried it was too soon and it would freak Louis out. He’s been waiting for the right time and to feel like Louis is ready and, if he’s really honest, he didn’t want the cameras or the show anywhere near that moment.

Niall had been super annoyed at first when they didn’t stick around to film the interviews that day, but after a lot of sweet talking and Harry’s promise of indentured servitude in the form of seven breakfasts of his choice whenever Niall wanted them, he was convinced to reschedule the interviews for the following week. 

Niall had been very understanding when Harry explained that they needed a bit more time to themselves off-camera before giving their final impressions on the show in order to help foster their trust. Their emotions had been a bit raw that day and there was still so much to work through with their budding relationship and neither wanted to sit in a room under a microscope and bright lights and answer questions about what was happening until they had time to talk it through without the pressure of being on camera. 

Niall had agreed and joyfully kissed them both on the forehead when they had broken the news that they’d decided they were exclusively seeing each other, a development that had happened on their third date, and of course the promise of chicken and waffles, pancakes, eggs benedict, breakfast tacos, and skillet hash didn’t hurt either. Harry didn’t know if the display of affection was because of them being boyfriends or because of the breakfast food but, either way, he was happy that the first person they’d told was over the moon excited for them. 

“God, baby, your lips look so fucking swollen. It looks like a borderline anaphylactic reaction.” Louis laughs. 

“Don’t make fun! It’s not my fault that you looked all– like that.” Harry gestures to the screen. “You try resisting the urge to suck your cock when you’re wearing a goddamn racerback vest that defines the curve of your waist and accentuates your collarbones and puts all your tattoos on display. I practically had no choice but to swallow you down.” 

“You did look so pretty on your knees for me in that greenroom. I believe you were the one making the fun then.” Louis winks and Harry throws a handful of popcorn at him. 

Harry unpauses the video so they can continue watching.

“We’ve been seeing each other for–” Harry smirks as he looks to Louis on the screen to ask silently what he should say. “...a little while now.”

“It’s definitely official, official. We’re very happy together and seeing where it goes.”  Harry can’t control the fond that crosses his face as Louis leans over and kisses him sweetly on screen. “I guess you could say that the second chance we were given worked out for us both.” They look like lovesick idiots who can’t keep their hands off each other. As soon as the thought enters his mind, Louis reaches over and laces his fingers with Harry’s. 

Harry lays his head on Louis’ shoulder, continuing to munch on the popcorn as the credits run. “Tired, baby? Want to go to bed?” 

“Yeah.” Harry yawns. “It was so busy today. My legs and feet are aching.” 

“Alright.” Louis kisses his temple. “Go do your night stuff. I’ll clean up the snack buffet and then I’ll meet you in bed for a rubdown.” Louis stands from the couch, gathering up all the snacks from the coffee table to deliver them to the kitchen.

Harry gives him a knowing look. “A rubdown, hmmm? S’that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Harold, don’t be silly…I’m older than you.” 

“I’m aware of that, Lewis.” Harry smirks in the direction of the kitchen, his eyes lingering again on the gorgeous bouquet Louis brought him today, containing several different kinds and colors of dahlias. It had become a tradition of sorts, Louis bringing him flowers every sunday. Harry didn’t complain, because he loved the sweet smell of fresh blooms and the brightness they brought to his home and to his face. Louis had also started telling him what the different flowers meant every time he presented a new bouquet, and he was always so excited to relay everything his new friend, Florence, from the flower shop he now frequented had told him about caring for the different species of flowers. 

Harry drags himself off the couch, yawning again as he saunters through the bedroom and into the ensuite to commence his nightly skincare routine. He strips down to his pants, sweeping his hair up into a bun and grabs his terry cloth headband, pushing it back off his forehead and into his hairline. He washes his face and then applies his vitamin C serum and his moisturizer, cleans his teeth and then dabs on his eye cream, taking as little time as possible because his body is aching for what he knows is awaiting him. 

He heads into the bedroom to find Louis dressed in only his pants, peeling back the light blue duvet and laying down some towels to protect the sheets. There were a couple of lit candles on the bedside table, a bottle of massage oil, and some soft music playing on the bluetooth speaker. 

“What in the porn scene set up did I just walk into?” Harry laughs. 

“I don’t think they light candles in porn though, do they? That feels a bit more romantic than what porn would have to offer. And the music would be all wrong.”

“Depends on the kind of porn, I guess?” They giggle at the observation.

“Go ahead and lie down for me, love. Let me give those gams a proper polishing.” Louis winks. 

Harry lies face down, grabbing a pillow and stretching his arms around it to prop his head up. Louis knees up on the bed beside him, snagging the massage oil off the bedside table. He seems to be having trouble with the lid because the next thing Harry hears is a string of curses and obscenities. “Fucking slippery goddamn piece of shit, son of a bitch cap. Slick as lube, what the fuck?” 

Harry starts to giggle at Louis, shaking the bed. All of a sudden he feels a massive dripping stream of something wet and cold hit his back. He looks back at Louis to find him a mixture of angry and confused about what just happened. The massage oil cap was nowhere to be found and somehow Louis had managed to accidentally dump way too much oil onto his hand and it was now cascading onto Harry’s back like a waterfall. The smell of lavender invasively filling the air in a not so pleasant fashion.

“Yeah, you’re right, honey. Way too romantic for porn.” Harry hides his face in the pillow, laughing hysterically. 

“Soooo, this might be a bit of a greasy rubdown.” Louis’ voice shakes with his giggles. “Fuck, I’ve really made a mess of this.” 

“It’s ok, honey. The road to good intentions is paved with…oily substances, or something?” Louis falls on top of him at that, both of them laughing so hard there’s no sound escaping their mouths. 

“At least–” Louis continues laughing, barely able to get his words out. “At least we don't need to worry about lube now.” 

“Oh God.” Harry groans. “Absolutely not. One of us would wind up with an infection!”

“Ohhhh, baby. Tell me more about infections . Have I told you lately that I love your dirty talk?” Their laughs continue filling the room. 

Harry loves laughing with Louis. One would think this scenario would be a total mood killer but, on the contrary, laughter is sexy to him. It’s a real turn on, being with someone who can bring out your silly, goofy side in bed. There’s an extra level of intimacy that it provides. After all, sex is about connection and expression and feeling good and so is laughter. Harry thinks it’s important not to take yourself too seriously in most things, so why should sex be any different?

Louis starts to rub his back, his movements becoming more and more involved as the minutes pass. Harry’s sure the excess lubrication probably has something to do with it. “You’re all slicked up and shiny like a butter-basted turkey.” Louis snorts, trying to hold in his laughter like he’s about to lose it again.

“Please do not compare me to someone’s holiday dinner ever again.” 

“Not even if–”

“Louis.”

“I mean, I’m just saying–”

“Please don’t.” 

“But it’s so–”

“LOUIS.”

“Fine,” Louis huffs. Harry sighs contently as Louis’ strong hands continue sliding over his sore muscles, relaxing into his capable touch. Harry’s eyelids are growing heavier with each swipe of Louis’ hands. He feels Louis lean down to his ear, “What’s a butter-basted turkey without a little stuffing?” 

“LOUIS, JESUS!!!” 

“So, should I cancel the custom ‘Boy dinner’ knickers I ordered for you or–?” 

“You really can't help yourself, can you?” Harry cranes his neck around to look at Louis. “Go ahead, get it all out of your system.” He snaps his head back around.

“As long as you’re providing the meat, I’ll provide the baby gravy.” 

Harry makes a gagging noise. “UGH, YOU’RE SO GROSS.” Harry pushes his face down into the pillow in disgust.

Louis laughs. “But that’s part of why you love me.” 

Louis freezes for a moment as Harry holds his breath. He’s not fucking saying anything. Why aren’t either of them saying anything? Goddamn it.  

Louis slowly starts moving his hands over Harry’s skin again, rubbing down both of his arms and then moving down to his thighs, where Louis seems to spend ample time appreciating the shape of his hamstrings. Louis’ clearly not obsessing over the awkwardness of what he’d just said and the only thing he’s thinking about right now is his penchant for Harry’s thighs. Thigh distraction FOR THE WIN!!! Louis continues his exploration of the substantial flesh with his strong hands, working up and down the thickness of Harry’s flanks. The mood shifts a bit when Harry feels Louis lean down and brush his lips over the sensitive skin inside his left thigh. It’s a ghost of a kiss, but Harry would know Louis’ lips anywhere. 

He feels Louis grip his thighs again to spread them slightly, running his fingertips up and down the inside of each limb, the light touch causing goosebumps to ripple across Harry’s skin. “Flip over for me and I’ll get your quads.” 

Oh sure. Naturally, because thoroughness is clearly the focus of this massage for Louis. PSHHHH . His mantra is definitely ‘leave no muscle un-rubbed’. Once Harry’s flipped over, his hands clasped underneath his head on top of the pillow, Louis begins rubbing up and down the tops of his thighs, his thumbs gliding along from Harry’s knees all the way up to the inseam of his pants and grazing his balls– which felt very intentional, but Louis masks it well. Harry’s already well on his way to half hard just from the sight of Louis’ powerful hands stroking and digging into the meat of his legs. Flipping onto his back was definitely a blessing and a curse and from the evil grin on Louis’ face, he fucking knows it. Oh, so he’s doing all this on purpose to rile Harry up, is he? 

“With your craving for my thighs, I would think you’d have asked to fuck them by now, Lou,” Harry says confidently. Louis’ hands still immediately, his eyes widening. He catches Harry’s eyes immediately, Harry looking up at Louis with his most sultry and challenging stare. Louis steels his eyes, his body crawling up Harry’s with feline-like movement until he and Harry are eye to eye with only a shared breath between them. 

Louis half smirks and leans down to whisper into Harry’s ear. “Is this you telling me you want me to fuck your thighs, baby?” Harry bites his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth and nibbling on it to keep the sounds in. “I think you want to wrap them around me so tight and let me use them until I paint them with come.” Harry makes an involuntary sound in his throat. “Squeezing my cock between your perfect thighs, mmm. Want to make your lovely little hole jealous, don’t you?” Louis reaches down between his thighs, past his cock and balls, and rubs the flats of two fingers over his thinly clothed entrance. The pressure in itself is maddening and causes Harry’s entire body to shudder. This wicked man clearly knows that the way to drive Harry wild with lust is by teasing him with obscenities and sensual, barely-there touches. 

“Fuck me,” Harry hisses. His back arches off the bed as Louis runs the same fingers back and forth over his hole. 

“They were the first thing I noticed about you, baby. Thick, strong, and smooth. Just the right combination of soft–” Louis kisses Harry’s ear lobe, sending another wave of trembles through him. “...and firm.” Harry’s squirming as Louis moves his hand up to stroke Harry’s length through his pants. He gasps at the contact and then lets out a whimper at the friction on his now throbbing cock.

Louis pulls away from his ear and moves his hand up to cup Harry’s jaw, pulling him into a deep kiss. It’s all want. The way Louis’ tongue thrusts into his mouth leaves absolutely no guesswork as to what Louis desires. They’re both propelled by lust and pure, unadulterated passion at this juncture. It’s raw and it’s naked and unfiltered, the way their hands move over each other’s skin, searching for no particular destination. Harry can feel Louis’ stiffness pressed against his hip, knowing that Louis is just as into this as Harry is driving him even further toward the edge of pleasure. If Louis doesn’t hurry up and do something, he’s gonna have more than just the massage oil to lube up Harry’s thighs. 

He feels Louis’ hand sink into his hair at the base of his skull and then moving up to pull the hair tie loose all while their mouths are still attached. Louis tugs at the roots of his hair just enough to send a jolt through Harry’s nervous system and then he moves his hand down to put the slightest amount of pressure at the front of Harry’s throat, his fingers resting on Harry’s sharp jaw. Louis finally pushes back against Harry to disconnect the kiss, leaving Harry chasing his lips, his head lifting up off the pillow, hands reaching up and fervently seeking to pull Louis back down. 

“Patience, baby.” Louis pecks his lips once more and then slides down his body leaving a trail of kisses from his birds down to his laurels. He looks down to find that the sight of Louis between his thighs truly never fails to set his insides aflame. He closes his eyes and drops his head back down onto the pillow, the view far too overwhelming to take in. He feels Louis’ fingers under the waistband of his pants, and then sliding them down his legs, freeing his cock from where it was straining against the fabric.

Harry vaguely registers Louis’ hands scooping under his thighs and bringing them together in the air so that he’s in a pike position. “Cross your ankles for me, baby. That’s it, yeah.” Harry props another pillow under his head because there’s no fucking way he’s going to miss seeing the gratification on Louis’ face. Louis quickly shucks off his own pants and knees up until he’s in position, his hands snaking around Harry’s legs, holding onto them with one hand for purchase. 

He watches as Louis looks down to guide his dick between the tight space in the crease of Harry’s thighs. Harry feels the tip of Louis’ cock nudging against the slippery skin there at the base of his thighs. Once he feels the first thrust, Harry is buzzing and stirring with ecstasy and need. He didn’t count on it feeling so good when Louis’ cock slid easily through the cleft, resulting in the slightest graze of Harry’s own cock and balls, but the contact and friction he’s craving is just out of reach in the most maddening way.

At first the pumping is a bit choppy and the motions are jerky and awkward as Louis’ trying to figure out a rhythm, but he starts to build up speed once he’s got the hang of it and before Harry knows it Louis’ clinging onto his thighs and slamming his cock between them at a furious pace. The thigh worship must have gotten Louis really worked up as well. Harry catches glimpses of Louis’ face next to his calves, but Louis can’t seem to help but look down, watching as his cock disappears between Harry’s thighs. 

“Enjoying the show, honey?” Harry teases. 

Louis moans out, “Best fucking thing I’ve– ahhh ever seen.” The words go straight to Harry’s cock. He reaches down to start slowly stroking himself, but Louis pushes his hand away causing the heat in his belly to swirl and twist in his gut.

“Are you gonna come on my cock? Slick me up and make it drip down to where I want it the most?” Harry’s voice is gravelly with lust and Louis groans pornographically in response. You’re not the only one who can talk dirty, mister. Harry smiles to himself at the thought. 

“Fuck, baby. Almost there.” Harry clenches his quaking thighs as much as he can and makes a mental note to add more lunges into his workout routine. Louis continues snapping his hips, his nails digging further into Harry’s legs the faster his fucking becomes. 

Harry compresses his thighs with every ounce of energy he has left and a few sweaty thrusts between his legs later, Louis’ orgasm hits him with its full force. He throws his head back with a throaty grunt as his cock pulses between Harry’s thighs, streaks of pearly white all over his cock and balls, his arms wrapped around Harry’s legs, frozen at the peak of his release.

Louis is panting and shaking slightly as he releases Harry’s legs to fall on either side of him. Before Harry has a chance to get a hand around himself his cock is enveloped in wet heat. He looks down to find Louis sucking him with his cheekbones hollowed and his head bobbing up and down, glassy eyes locked onto Harry, but hooded with desire. It hits Harry that Louis is currently sucking his own come off of Harry’s cock and his brain short circuits, unable to comprehend how naughty and yet so very delicious it is.

“FUCK, you’re– ahhhhh… filthy. ” His spine is tingling as the pressure clamps around his lower vertebrae.

“Wanted to taste how good you made me feel.”

Swing loooowwwww, sweet charioooot comin’ for to carry Harry hoooooommmeeee…

Jesus Christ, is this an assassination attempt? Harry cannot even deal. The pleasure and the slight pain from being hard for so long are crashing like waves on sand and he thinks he might pass out or explode. Either option is fine as long as he comes first. His body starts moving on its own, thrusting up ever so slightly into Louis’ mouth and meeting Louis’ rhythm. 

“Gonna come, Lou, fuck..you’re– so good…I can’t–” Sentences have abandoned him and he’s amazed he can even get a coherent warning out with the way Louis’ mouth and tongue feel on his cock. There’s just something otherworldly about seeing this beautiful man swallowing him down and working him over with his mischievous mouth, his blue eyes ablaze with desire. Louis cups his balls and gives them a squeeze, causing Harry’s vision to burst into sparks behind his eyelids, shooting his load into Louis’ mouth with his body bowing itself up off the bed as if on reflex. His hands fly to Louis’ hair from where they were fisted in the sheets, holding him still. Louis just stays there between his legs, jerking him through the remnants of his orgasm and watching Harry fondly, clearly pleased with his work.

Once Harry’s let go of him, Louis rolls over onto his back at the foot of the bed. Harry lies spread like a starfish, breathing and basking in the glow of his high. He looks down to see Louis frustratingly out of his reach.

“Louis?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re too far away.” He lifts his hand to grab at the air like a baby wanting to be cuddled.

“We smell like sex and lavender.” Louis’ scratchy post orgasm voice is his favorite.

“There are worse smells.” Harry giggles. 

“I’ve got to shower. Feel like a Chippendale’s dancer.” Harry cackles.

“You’ve got to shower? I’m swimming in so much oil I could fry onion rings!” They both burst into laughter, Louis turning his head to look in Harry’s direction. 

“You look beautiful, though.” He starts to crawl toward Harry, his sweaty, slick body sliding up against Harry’s. He plants a kiss on Harry's lips. “My glistening little glazed carrot.” He whispers, giggling into another kiss as he clambers off of Harry, trotting to the ensuite. Harry just rolls his eyes fondly, rolling off the bed and following the perfectly round arse of the perfect idiot he’s completely and perfectly in love with. 

🍑L🍑

“Louis! D’you finally fuck it up?” Florence raises an eyebrow as Louis walks into Organica Botanica with a smirk. She turns her attention back to the vase of flowers she’s arranging.

“FLO!” Louis extends his arms in grand fashion once he spots her behind the counter. I didn’t fuck it up! Oh ye of little faith.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head with his signature smirk firmly in place.

Louis remembers quite fondly his second trip to Organica Botanica. He had decided to make Sunday flowers for Harry a thing so he’d come in on a Saturday to get his first of many Saturday bouquets from Florence. She had taken one look at him, shaken her head, and remarked, “You fucked it up already, huh?” 

“Hmmm, to what do I owe the pleasure of your patronage on a Tuesday, then, good sir?”

“I need a bouquet that speaks for me.”

Florence drops the stem she’s been focusing on finding a spot for in the arrangement, training all her attention on Louis with her green eyes excited and twinkling. “And what, pray tell, do we want it to say, babe?”

“I love you.” Louis winks with the words, the goofiest smile taking over his face. 

“That’s really sweet, Louis, but for the last time, I’m married! And she’s pretty scrappy. I think if it came to it, she could take you in a fight.” She sends him a sarcastic smile before she sticks her tongue out at him playfully.  

“You’re insufferable.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. 

“Seriously, I’m so happy for you, my friend.” She reaches across the counter, grabbing his shoulders and pulls him in for a kiss on the cheek. “Alright, so you absolutely need more than one bouquet for this, Lou. We have to go all out for your Harry! We can’t just haphazardly rely on a single, solitary bunch of flowers to send a message of this magnitude!” She raises her hands in the air, gesturing wildly.

“When are you gonna give up this flower business and come work for me? Honestly, your sales skills are unmatched.” Louis leans over the counter, watching her trimming each stem and placing the blooms carefully into the vase. 

“No offense, Lou, but why would I want to give up arranging bouquets and sharing in people’s emotional and joyous moments for mixing cocktails and dealing with drunk people?” She’s got a good point. “Also, my wife really loves that I come home from work smelling like flowers and I doubt she’d have the same reaction if I came home smelling like booze.” Ok, so she’s got a really good point there.

“Ok, so back to my love declaration bouquet–” She raises her eyebrows and cocks her head. “Excuse me… bouquets.” 

“Much better.” She winks. 

Thirty minutes later, after brainstorming with Florence, he’s got a brilliant plan in place. He waves goodbye to Flo, stepping out of the flower shop with the phone ringing in his ear. “Sarah, hey! It’s Louis. Listen, I’m planning a special surprise for Harry and I wondered if you could help me with a part of it? I know you’re in the middle of service right now, just– call me back when you get this and I’ll fill you in. Also kiss Scout for me and tell Mitch I said he’s a dick. Ok, bye!” 

Louis giggles as he hangs up the phone, sliding his sunnies out of his hair and back down over his eyes. He feels like he can’t help but grin from the inside out with his impending romantic gesture coming together beautifully after he’d been stewing on it for a while now. He’s been sure about his feelings for Harry for weeks, but he wanted to make sure to tell Harry in a way that was really special for him. Harry deserved it. He deserved one of the big, enchanting, lovey-dovey declarations like in the rom-coms he loved so dearly. He was worth every ounce of energy Louis was putting into it, and Louis was delighted to be able to show up for him in this way. 

Harry had easily opened up like a book for Louis and he was a little envious of that. The way that Harry wore his heart on his sleeve and could express his feelings without worry of how they’d be received. Louis knows that he could call Harry on the phone right now, this very minute, and tell him that he loves him and that Harry would immediately reply with an eloquent feelings driven speech about how much he loves Louis and how he’s loved him for ages. He knows beyond a shadow of doubt that Harry loves him and he also knows that Harry’s been waiting for Louis to say it first.

Louis imagines it hasn’t been easy for Harry to keep his feelings inside for Louis’ sake, what with how deeply he feels everything. Louis appreciates that about him, the way he respects his partner and their differences. It’s enough for Louis just to know that Harry loves him so much that he’s refrained from saying it until Louis was ready to hear it, and now that Louis is…he can’t wait to make it a special moment for both of them. 

The plan was pretty simple. He’d ask Sarah to teach him how to cook something delicious for Harry, maybe a favorite meal? Hopefully nothing too ambitious. He needs to call Niall about borrowing the studio for a night. Hopefully they haven’t exhausted all their favors with him and he’ll agree to it with a little breakfast bribery. Seems to be the best way to pay Niall back these days. Florence is taking care of the flower arrangements. They’d decided to do six different bouquets, each themed after the colored pods on the show and each one having a note attached to it that said something Louis loved about Harry. And when he got to the final one, which would be the blue one, Louis would leave it blank and that’s when he’d launch into a very well rehearsed monologue about how he’s fallen head over heels for Harry. 

It felt like just enough to wow Harry and to accomplish the goal of sharing his feelings for Harry. Now it was just a matter of executing the plan to perfection. Louis’ phone buzzes in his pocket, startling him from his thoughts. 

“Zaynie!” 

“Ew. Don’t call me that.”

“Glad to hear you’re in a lovely mood this beautiful Tuesday.” Louis snickers, knowing that Zayn never actually calls him on the phone unless he’s pissed or upset.

“Would I be calling you if I was in a lovely mood?” He shoots, HE SCORES!

“What’s going on, babe?”

“Fucking Liam.”

“Fucking Liam? That sounds like the opposite of a problem where you’re concerned.”

“Don’t joke, Louis. He asked me to move in with him and I–” 

“Ohhhhh. Shit.” Yikes. No wonder Zayn is fucked up right now. That’s a big fucking step when you’ve only been dating someone four months. 

“Yeah. Shit.” 

“And how did you respond?” Louis has a feeling Zayn just told him he’d think it over and internally freaked out. 

“Well, I told him I’d think about it. And then I went home and my brain fucking spiraled. I started thinking about how nice it would be to wake up next to him all the time but also how soon it was to be making such a big decision and how we pretty much are at each other’s places most of the time, right? So how different could it be? But also I was thinking about how it’s the next step before an engagement and that’s really scary and–” Bingo. Johnny, tell him what he’s won! 

“Z, listen to me. Take a big breath for me, love.” He hears Zayn inhale and exhale over the receiver. “That’s all valid and it’s perfectly normal to feel that way. And you’re right, it is a huge step and I’m so proud of you for not taking that lightly, yeah? If it was me and Harry, I’d feel the same way.”

“You would?” He hears Zayn sniffle over the line and that cements in his mind exactly what the next step is. Zayn doesn’t cry often and Louis knows when he does, it means he’s feeling really big emotions that he’s not sure how to process. Kinda like a toddler. Louis laughs internally at the thought. So what would a toddler need besides a snack and a nap? Love, logic, and support to sort through it. 

“You know I’d be bricking it, mate.” Zayn laughs through his tears. “Answer me one question, Zayn. Do you love him?” Louis’ taking a chance by asking it. He knows Zayn’s never been in love with anyone, but he’s got a gut feeling that he’s going through the emotional shitstorm of realizing that he loves Liam. 

“Yeah. I think I do.” 

“I think you do, too.”  Zayn’s laugh is sniffly and a bit breathy. “Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna celebrate that you’ve acknowledged your big boy feelings with a couple of drinks at the bar and then we’re gonna sit down and make a pros and cons list about the whole ‘moving in together’ dilemma, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect, Louis. I’ll see you there.” 

Louis pockets his phone just before he enters his flat. He slips off his shoes and heads for the kitchen to start some coffee and grab something to eat. His mind is busy swirling with not only his own plans to share his feelings with Harry, but also with what’s going on with Zayn now. Jesus, emotions can be hazardous. At least he has a fairly straightforward and somewhat fool proof plan in the beginning stages now. 

Louis takes his phone out to make a list of all the things he needs to make sure are taken care of before the big night with Harry and then fires off a quick text to Niall to ask about the studio. He then notices that Sarah’s sent him a text as well saying she’ll be happy to help in any way she can. Perfect! It’s all going swimmingly. This is gonna be so epic. Iconic. Legendary! Is there an award for most supreme boyfriend of the year? Because Louis definitely thinks he’ll be a shoe-in if so. Just as he’s about to pocket his phone, it starts vibrating with a call from Niall. Louis takes another deep breath, remembering how Harry is so worth all of this and more. 

Relax, Louis. You’ve got all of this. Everything is going to go according to plan.

“Hey, Ni! I need a favor.” 

💐🌷🌸🌹🌼🌺

Everything is not going according to plan. FUCK. It started out shitty and only got shittier as the day went along. First was the meal plan. Sarah and he hadn’t had a chance to get together this week at all to do a cooking lesson for the recipe Louis had picked out for Harry, because little Scout had come down with the flu. Louis was totally understanding about it, of course, and Sarah had graciously agreed to meet him today to cook the recipe with him, so all he’d have to do was to pack it up and transport it to the studio. 

Unfortunately Sarah had called him this morning to say that she had now come down with the flu and would be unable to help him after all. Louis tried not to let it ruin the entire day, after all, it was only one part of the plan that didn’t work out. Shit, they could just go to a restaurant afterwards or order pizza. Not a big deal at all! 

It was kind of a big deal, though when Flo had called about the flowers. Apparently there was some kind of problem with the refrigeration truck delivering all the flowers they had ordered and with the wonderful summer heat, they had arrived at the shop today looking brown and dead and falling all to pieces. Flo had felt so bad she’d cried on the phone, apologizing over and over and over again, promising him his next six bouquets would be on the house, and that she’d make a special bouquet using what she had on hand for him tonight. So…there went the flowers and Louis’ plan with the notes. 

But at least they still had the studio! The venue was still intact and it was such a special place for them, of course it would still be a special occasion. Niall had been so excited about the developments in their relationship that he had practically squealed in Louis’ ear about his plan. And if his excitement wasn’t enough, he had put Shawn on speaker and insisted that Louis tell Shawn about the plan as well, so he could share in the joy and romantic dreams. Louis really fucking loved their friends. 

“Niall? Hey. I was just about to head your way. Well, I’ve got to stop and pick up some flowers first, but–”

“Louis, we’ve– Fuck, we’ve got a problem.” Oh– oh no. 

“Niall. Don’t do this to me.” 

“I’m– I’m really fucking sorry, but you can’t use the studio tonight.” GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT. Why does everyone hate him!?!!

“I– Niall, please. I’ll pay people off if it’s necessary. Just–”

“It’s not that, Lou. I’m so sorry, but the studio is not safe for anyone to enter right now. There was a plumbing issue on Friday and because no one was there over the last thirty-six hours, the place is completely flooded.”

“Niall, I will wear a fucking wetsuit and flippers, I am so serious. You do NOT understand, this was the last fucking thing going right–”

“No, Louis, you don’t understand. They’ve had to shut off the power because someone could get electrocuted.” Louis’ heart just sinks at the realization that there’s no way to make his master plan happen tonight. 

“OH FUCK MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.” 

“I’m so sorry, Louis. But hey, we can reschedule, right? We could do it next week?” Louis thinks about how excited Harry had been when Louis had told him he was taking him somewhere special tonight. How Harry was out right now getting a mani/pedi and getting dressed at his own flat in something pretty for their big date. And now all of it’s ruined and he just wants to throw up.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s– that’s fine, mate. We’ll just do it next week. I’ve– I’ve gotta go. Speak to you later.” 

Louis sends a text to Harry to just meet him at his flat. He’s too exhausted by the ruined plans to muster the energy for a phone call. He’d been so excited coming up with this plan and putting everything in place that now he’s just– so frustrated that it’s not going to happen. Yeah, he could do it next week, but what does he tell Harry? He’s so afraid Harry will be upset with him for having to cancel their night. Well, he’s nothing if not the king of second chances at this point, right? Louis reminds himself of a quote he read somewhere that’s become a mantra of sorts for him. “Life is all about how you handle Plan B.” 

So that’s what he’ll do. He’ll roll with the punches and stay positive and put the plan back into motion for next week. It’ll be fine! Maybe by then Sarah will be well enough and Flo can re-order the flowers and it’ll be just fine. Brilliant even!

Harry arrives precisely on time and when Louis answers the door he almost passes out at what he sees. Harry’s wearing a black tweed suit with sparkles in the threads. The trousers are flared and hug his thighs like they’re long lost friends and, in place of a button down shirt, he’s wearing a low cut vest that displays his chest proudly. The man’s always looking for any reason to get his tits out and Louis’ isn’t complaining in the slightest. 

Louis wants to peel every scrap of fabric off of him with his teeth. His brunette curls are styled down, laying perfectly around his shoulders, the top pushed off his forehead in his signature pompadour. And here Louis thought he was pulling out all the stops because he’d styled his hair off his forehead tonight. Fuck, his boyfriend is a fucking vision…and now Louis has to deliver bad news. What a kick in the nuts.

“Hi, baby.” Louis shakes off the nerves he’s carrying and steps forward, pulling him in by the waist to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. 

“What’s wrong, Lou?” 

Fuck, he noticed.

“I– kinda have some bad news.” 

“Is everything ok? Are you ok? Louis– are we…ok?” Harry looks positively terrified.

“Oh fuck, yes, Harry. We’re fine, baby. Totally fine. Just–” Harry exhales loudly. Apparently Louis must have looked really fucking nervous if Harry was sweating it that much. Louis ushers him inside and plops down on the couch. “It’s just the place we were supposed to go, they’ve had a problem– So, we can’t go there. And I had planned some other things too, that– also didn’t pan out. So, I’m a bit sorry to say that we’ll have to do the big special night next week, if it’s ok?” 

“Louis. Are you kidding?”

“‘Fraid not.” 

“Honey, none of that matters to me. I’m so happy that you wanted to plan a special night for us, but shit happens and sometimes plans get fucked up. I don’t care about any of that. I just want to be with you.” Harry sits down beside him and takes his hand. “You look so stressed out, Lou. I’m so sorry your plans were ruined. You must be so upset, honey. Let me whip us up something in the kitchen. Or we could order pizza? I’m happy either way, as long as we’re here. Together. Why don’t you go get your comfies on and I’ll grab myself a beer and call for a pizza.” Harry leans in and kisses Louis’ cheek before heading into the kitchen.

Louis is gobsmacked. Not only is Harry not disappointed, Harry was only concerned about how Louis was feeling. Harry knew how upset and nervous he was from the moment the door opened and all he wanted to do was to comfort Louis and make him feel better. Harry, who had gotten all gussied up and had his nails done and styled his hair to look beautiful for their date. He’d spent all that time and now, all Harry wanted to do was take care of him after his stressful day. Because Harry loves him. And Louis loves Harry right back. 

“Harry?”

“Want me to grab you one too?” Harry shouts from the kitchen as he’s opening the fridge.

“I love you.” The words pop out before Louis even realizes he’s said them.

The clank of a bottle hitting the floor and rolling across it echoes through the flat. There’s silence for a moment and then the sound of footsteps shuffling across the hardwood back toward the living area. 

“You– you– did you say–?” 

“I said, I love you.” Louis looks up at him. Harry’s eyes are beginning to well and his hands are now clasped over his mouth in surprise, which is endearing in itself, because honestly how could he be surprised that Louis was anything but fucking gone for him?

“Louis. You– Fuck.” Harry practically tackles him, making the couch scoot back at least a foot from its normal position and making Louis let out an ‘OOF’ when Harry’s big body smothers him head to toe forcing him onto his back, burying his face into Louis’ neck. He pulls back looking at Louis with tears spilling onto his cheeks. “You love me? You do? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course, I’m sure. What do you think tonight was about, baby? I was trying to make it special and it just didn’t–”

“But it is special, Louis. It is because it’s you and me. I know you wanted to make it special, but the only thing that matters is that you’re sharing your heart with me, Louis. I’m sure what you had planned was amazing and gorgeous and perfect and I love that, but I love you more. More than all the grand romantic gestures combined. More than all the flowers and chocolates and string quartets and candlelight dinners and every other sappy, sentimental thing you could have come up with. Those words mean more to me than any sweet thing you wanted to do for me, because I know they’re so hard for you to say, but you said them. You said them first, and that means everything, Louis.”

Louis feels his own eyes start to fill with tears as well. “Fuck, now I’ve gone all gooey.” They laugh wetly into each other’s mouths. Harry tastes faintly like the beer he’d likely only had a sip of before Louis’ unexpected confession. They spend a few minutes kissing and giggling and admiring each other until Harry abruptly pulls away with a gasp like he’s just realized something. 

“I spilled beer all over your kitchen.” They break into another round of giggles at Harry’s randomness before getting up and heading to the kitchen to clean up the spill. Harry insists upon Louis going to change into his lounging clothes while he cleans and orders the pizza but Louis stays and helps him with the clean up anyway, considering it was sort of his fault too. 

The rest of the evening is spent in comfortable clothes enjoying pizza and a few too many beers and watching the rest of Naked Attraction: Season Three. Louis had been watching it the last few months upon Harry’s insistence that he do so because as Harry put it, it was part of their history. They banter and play and Harry tickles Louis until he submits, just to hear him laugh. At one point Louis looks down to where Harry is curled up beside him, huffing and puffing his little snores and thinks to himself that he’s glad everything was ruined today. As stressful as it was for him to let go of the things that were out of his control, this was so much better. It wasn’t magical or grandiose like he had planned, but it was magnificent nonetheless. It was Louis continuing on this path of allowing himself to let Harry in. It was spontaneous. Heartfelt and honest. It was them. Through and through, it was the beauty of two people being in love with each other and finally getting to express it through words. Yeah, life is definitely all about how you handle plan B, Louis thinks as he kisses Harry’s temple and snuggles further into him, closing his eyes.

🍆H 🍆

“Harry!” Liam shouts from where he’s placing a flower arrangement on one of the tables. 

“Hey, Li! Where shall I put these?”

“Oh my god, those look amazing, H! Thank you so much for making them. On the bar will be fine for now.” 

Harry slides the tray of cherry tarts onto the bar just as Louis and Zayn exit the back room arguing as usual. 

“I’m not being bitchy, Z, it’s just a bit ridiculous that I got an invitation to a housewarming party that’s being held in my own bar.” Harry laughs to himself, having heard all about how annoyed Louis was that Zayn took it upon himself to commandeer the bar for the afternoon.

“But our new place is so small there’s just not enough room to accommodate everyone, Lou.”

“And by ‘accommodate everyone’, you mean, there’s no free booze at your new place.” Louis pours the bucket of ice into the icebox behind the bar. 

Zayn laughs to himself. “Good grief, it’s a sober event, you idiot. And you’ve literally NEVER had a party here, Louis. This place is just begging for a celebration and what better thing to celebrate than mine and Liam’s cohabitation?” 

“Zayn, I really think you’re missing the point here. It’s a housewarming and you’re having it in a bar. That’s not how any of this works.” Louis shakes his head at Zayn, bringing two fingers up to pinch at the skin between his eyes.

“Just shut up and mix the goddamn punch.” Zayn playfully punches his arm as Louis flips him off. Harry giggles at the pair of them arguing like rival siblings. 

“Oh hey, baby. I didn’t even notice you came in.” Louis walks around the bar to pull Harry in for a gentle kiss. Greeting kisses are his favorite brand of Louis kisses because they always let him feel how happy Louis is to see him. “The audacity of my eyes to not find you right away. It’s a crime.” Louis snickers, kissing him again.

“The flowers are beautiful. Have I missed Florence?” Harry asks. He’s been really anxious to meet her and her wife. Louis talks about them often, but Harry gets the feeling Louis’ gatekeeping them because he knows Harry and Flo’s powers against him combined would be catastrophic. 

“Yeah, she was taking her wife to lunch so she just dropped the bouquets off quickly,” Louis replies, looking up from where he’s pouring a couple of bottles of juice into the punchbowl. 

“Pity I missed her again! We should have them over for dinner one Sunday. Her wife sounds like she and I would be besties from everything you’ve told me.” 

“I have a feeling the two of you would keep Flo and I up all night talking about plants.” Harry scrunches his nose at Louis, exhaling a laugh through his nose.

“HELLO, FELLOW GAYS. I HAVE ARRIVED!” Niall’s voice, as usual, drowns out all other sounds like a space shuttle launch.

“Inside voice, babe, inside voice!” Shawn says, jokingly. 

Harry snickers at how Shawn is always trying and failing to tamp down Niall’s enthusiasm and loudness. Usually he ends up just giving up the crusade and joining in on the noise at some point. 

“Harry, my lover!” Niall approaches Harry with arms open wide.

“Hey! Watch it with the lover talk, lover.” Shawn chides, playfully cutting eyes at Niall with a smirk on his face.

“Well, it was Horan-Styles before it was Horan-Mendes.” Harry winks at Shawn.

“I have a feeling it’ll be Mendes-Horan, if my boyfriend has his very loud Irish say.” Shawn laughs, embracing Harry and placing kisses on both his cheeks. 

“Hi, everyone! Thanks so much for coming a bit early to help set up!” Zayn makes the rounds giving hugs to everyone before putting them all to work stringing up fairy lights and hanging a banner that ironically says “Welcome Home!” Harry had laughed until his sides hurt, but mainly at Louis' reaction to it. Louis had whispered into Harry’s ear, “If we ever move in together, remind me that we’re having our housewarming party at Zayn and Liam’s place.”

“Oh H! These little house shaped tarts are sooooo cute. You didn’t have to do this, you angel. We do have a caterer!” Zayn probably didn’t know that Harry loves any excuse to make a themed baked good. “Are they cherry?”

“Yes! Try one!” 

“Jesus. No wonder Louis is in love with you. It’s not fair that you can make pastries that well AND you have a big cock.” Zayn laughs as Harry blushes. He really should be used to it by now as their friends are constantly making jokes about how he and Louis met, but he’s never going to get used to knowing that everyone in the room has seen him naked.

“Is everyone here?” Liam asks, as he ties up some balloons he’d been inflating. 

“Yes, Payno, your free laborers are all here, if that’s what you’re asking.” Louis says, facetiously.

“Excellent! He walks behind the bar and pulls out two bottles of sparkling grape juice and starts lining the bar top with glasses. “We wanted to do a proper toast with just our closest friends before the madness starts.” He pops the top off the bottle and starts pouring the fizzy liquid into the glasses, handing them out one by one. 

“Alright, what should we toast to?” Liam asks.

“Well, it’s your toast, Lima, reckon you should’ve prepared something.” Harry laughs at Louis taking every single opportunity to give Liam shit. 

“How about an Irish blessing on your home?” Niall chirps, a smile growing on his face. 

“Oh, that sounds amazing, Niall!” Liam says, excitedly. Harry notices Zayn’s eyes narrowing at the Irishman with suspicion. 

Niall raises his glass. “May your home be filled with laughter, may your pockets be filled with gold, and may you have all the happiness your Irish heart can hold.” Zayn seems to sigh with relief at the fairly lovely little blessing for their new home, but Niall’s voice cuts through his comfort to continue the toast. “I wish you all the luck and love and a garden filled with shamrock…” Oh no. Harry already knows where this is going. Niall did a very similar ‘Irish blessing’ at one of their friend’s weddings. “And a hot, wet tongue on your arsehole and a mouth around your cock.” Niall holds his glass up in the air, his laughter echoing through the space as the rest of them just stand there, unsure of what just happened save for Harry who groans and shakes his head. 

“Let this be a lesson to all of you to never let Niall make a toast again.” Harry says, facepalming.

Louis clears his throat to stop himself from laughing. “I’d– I’d like to say something, if that’s ok?” Zayn and Liam both nod for him to continue. “As Zayn’s best mate, I just wanted to say that it’s really lovely to see how happy he’s been the past few months and I know that Liam’s to thank for that. I’m inspired to see you both take this next step in your relationship and I’m delighted to witness you turn your new place into a home for you both. To Liam and Zayn!” 

“To Liam and Zayn!” Everyone else says in unison. 

Harry has to admit he’s a bit misty-eyed at Louis’ toast to Zayn and Liam, especially with all the shit he was giving Zayn about the party. It just goes to show how Louis has grown so much since they’ve been together and these little moments where he steps out from behind the curtain, showing the real him, make Harry so proud to be his partner. 

“Alright, enough soppy shit. Someone put on some extremely homosexual music and let’s have a dance before the masses invade our party!” Niall shouts, pulling Shawn in for a kiss on the cheek, taking his hand and twirling him into the available space. 

Louis picks up the remote and hits a button and the speakers throughout the bar spring to life as Beyoncé’s ‘Love On Top’ fills the air. Harry watches as Niall pulls Shawn into him, his stout body swaying side to side, hips moving of their own accord as he holds his glass in the air. Harry doesn’t judge, he supposes Beyoncé has that effect on people, but he can’t help but laugh at Niall’s white boy moves. Harry notices that Liam actually has quite a swag as he plants his hands on Zayn’s hips moving with him in time to the bopping beat. He turns his head to find Louis watching him fondly as he extends a hand. 

“Harold, I believe our gay membership cards would be revoked if we didn’t dance while the Queen was playing. Come on then, baby. Show me what you’ve got.” 

Harry takes his hand, spinning quickly into Louis before Louis releases him to spin back out. Needless to say Louis makes up for his lack of dance prowess with enthusiasm and a gusto of which the likes Harry has never seen. He laughs more than he’s dancing, but he’s not complaining because it’s Louis making him laugh and that makes every laugh better than the last. The more Harry laughs, the stupider Louis acts, twerking his arse into Harry as he bends over in front of him touching the floor like he’s in a rap video. Harry’s breathless and cramping, as all his friends are dancing and joking and making complete fools of themselves. And to think all of this started with Harry agreeing to go naked on television…again. Best decision he’s ever made.

After the party’s come to a close and the guests have all gone, Louis leaves the bar in Krystle and Steve’s capable hands to take Harry home. When they arrived back to Louis’ flat Harry had been fucking ravenous for Louis. After a couple of messy handjobs in the shower they’d fallen into bed naked, and Harry had pounced on Louis again, ordering him onto all fours and eating him out until he was whining and begging to be fucked. Harry happily complied, ripping Louis’ orgasm out of him and quickly following behind, stripping himself to his own release and leaving it dripping down Louis’ arse crack. They hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol, but both men were drunk on love and on each other. Harry also blamed the sight and feeling of Louis’ arse twerking. Can you blame him?

Two orgasms each was enough to leave them boneless and sated. Louis was lying on his stomach, the sheet draped over the curve of his arse with his head lying on Harry’s outstretched arm, facing Harry where he’s stretched out on his back. Harry rolls onto his side facing Louis, taking in the muscles of his back and the contours of his waistline where it cinches in just before the swell of his hips that that magnificent bum. Harry starts kissing down his back with little pecks, enjoying the warmth of Louis’ skin against his lips. 

“No, no, no, baby. Count the tills and turn off the lights. We are closed for business!” Louis groans.

“I’m not starting anything, I’m just adoring you.” He continues his journey down to Louis’ bum, a playful smile blooming on his face. He raises a hand and lightly taps on Louis’ arsecheek making it jiggle. Another playful smack and jiggle coaxes a giggle from him before he dives in and blows a loud raspberry smack dab center on the round, fleshy globe. 

“Ewwww, you’re slobbering on me!” Harry laughs a belly laugh, falling back into his previous position on his back as Louis turns on his side to face him, closing his eyes like he’s trying to go to sleep.

“Lou?” Harry whispers. 

“Mmmm.”

“Honey?” He whispers again.

“M’sleepy. And why are you whispering? We’re the only ones here.”

“Wake up and talk to me!” 

Louis reluctantly opens his eyes. “What is it, you post orgasm sleep-ruiner? If I were you and I wanted my boyfriend to make me pancakes in the morning, I’d let him sleep.” Harry knows he’s not really annoyed with him and to be brutally honest, he knows he wouldn’t be missing out on much if Louis didn’t make him pancakes in the morning. 

“Let’s play the question game.”

“Baby, again? How do you still have questions to ask me after three months?”

“I’ll always have more questions for you, Lou. Always want to know more about you.” Louis’ face melts into a fond smile that could rival every beautiful thing that nature has to offer his eyes. 

“Go on then.”

“If you could be a flower, what kind would you be?” Harry asks. 

“Hmmm. A sunflower seems like the obvious answer because they love the sun, but all flowers technically love the sun, I suppose. I think I’d be a daffodil because they represent new beginnings. Second chances.”

“That feels appropriate.” Harry grins at him. 

“Same question for you.” 

“Well, lilacs are my favorite, but I think I’d be a blue forget-me-not because they remind me of your eyes.” 

“That is unbelievably mushy but you’re in luck because I like it when you’re mushy.” Harry giggles. “Your turn.”

“Hmmm. What’s your favorite feeling in the world?” Harry wiggles his eyebrows, just knowing Louis is gonna turn this into something dirty.

“Oh, this is so easy. S’got to be when we come home from a long day…” 

“Mhmm.”

“And we take a nice hot shower…” Yep, headed in the right direction. “And then we get into the bed all clean and smelling good and you’re close to me…” Here it comes. “And the pillow is all cold under my face and then I roll over to get into my optimal sleeping position, so ready for sleep. S’the best feeling.” Ok, so that took an unexpected turn there, but Harry kind of agrees with him now that he thinks about it. He laughs to himself. 

“Yeah, it is. Your question, Lou.” 

Louis lies silent, blinking at Harry for a moment. “Do you– do you think about us moving in together– like Liam and Zayn?” 

Oh. That wasn’t the type of question Harry was expecting at all. How does he proceed with this? If he’s honest would it send Louis back into his tower of hidden feelings surrounded by a shark infested moat? Cause him to close himself back up? Absolutely not. He has to be straightforward here…he has to trust in the truth. 

“I’ve had thoughts about it for years, Louis. They were fantasies back then, of course. My own little fairytale daydreams about the ethereal blue-eyed boy from Donny. But ever since I actually met you and since I’ve gotten to know who you really are and what it’s like to be loved by you, Louis…yeah, I think about it every day.” 

“I think about it all the time, too.” Louis whispers, making Harry laugh to himself about Louis’ earlier declaration that they were alone. “I think about waking up with you, even though you get up at an ungodly hour for the sake of people’s appetites–” Harry giggles. “...and I think about coming home in the middle of the night and sliding into bed next to you, smelling like booze after a late shift at the bar. I think about our lazy Sunday nights and going on afternoon dates because they’re the only times that line up in our stupid schedules…I think about all of that. And sometimes I think about–” Louis seems to stop himself, worried about what he was about to say next. 

“Go ahead, Lou. It’s just us, but you can whisper it if it’s scary.” Harry closes the distance and kisses his nose, encouraging him to continue. 

Louis smiles his nervous smile that doesn’t quite make his eyes crinkle. Harry misses those eye-crinkles, but he’ll take whatever smiles Louis is willing to give him.

“I think about you and me…until the end. Married, a home that we share, a family.” Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, he takes a shaky breath. “I never used to believe in soulmates. Always thought it was something people used to explain their insane behavior, but with you–” Louis takes his own deep breath and Harry wonders if his heart’s about to beat out his chest like Harry’s. “...it all just feels right. It’s been easy and also really fucking hard. Comfortable and I’ve also experienced the most growing pains I’ve ever had in my life. We fit for no reason whatsoever and every reason at the same time. Daylight and End Of The Day. The sun and the moon. Counterpoints.” Harry smiles sweetly at Louis speaking his own words back to him. “I know we haven’t been together that long and I know that it’s been hard for me to open up and to show you the real me. I’m a hard man to find, it seems.” Louis snickers. “But you’ve been so patient with me and now that I’ve let you in, I don’t want to ever let you go.” Louis taps his heart. The gesture is so small and the sound is faint, but it echoes loudly through Harry’s ears and in his own chest.

Harry reaches out, pulling Louis further into him until they’re sharing the same breath. He knows just how much it took for Louis to share that and all he wants now is to hold him close and tell him that their feelings are in unison.

“You don’t ever have to. I’m here with you.” Harry taps his own heart. “And I’m treasuring every single word you’ve just said and every sentiment you’ve just whispered, Lou. I’ve never believed in soulmates either. But we don’t have to believe in soulmates, Lou, not when we’ve decided that we’re counterpoints.” Louis smiles warmly WITH eye-crinkles. YES! 

Harry pulls Louis into a gentle kiss, wrapping his arms tighter around him until they’re chest to chest. They pull apart, foreheads still touching, just holding each other, breathing one another and this sacred moment in. 

A wave of contentment and gratitude washes over Harry. For this strong yet vulnerable man in his arms and his willingness to allow Harry to know him and his heart. All the fantasies and dreams and wishes of being with Louis before he really knew him always included love at first sight with grand proposals leading to massive weddings within a month of knowing each other. Louis sweeping Harry off his feet and eloping with him to some exotic location on a whim as soon as they’d said their first hello, but here…here in Louis’ arms and in the quiet of their own content, there was no rush. There was no race to the altar, no inner-voice pushing him to speed up or make it snappy. They were setting their own pace, on their own time. And Harry was happy to remain here with Louis.

“I love you, Harry.” Louis’ words are as light as his breath on Harry’s chin. 

“I love you, too, Lou.” Harry responds before one last tender kiss to Louis’ lips, as they both start to drift off into a peaceful shared rest. 

Harry yawns, rubs his feet together and says a silent thank you to the Heavens for Louis, for what the future holds, for their friends and family, and for Naked Attraction. It seems so crazy to think that if he’d never decided to get naked on a television show a second time for the world to witness…again, that he never would have gotten the opportunity to know and to love Louis. He would have loved him from afar, still. But because he trusted himself and trusted that pull in his gut and, yes, because he trusted the producers of a television show, here he was holding and knowing and loving the sun to his moon. His counterpoint. 

The truth can be a fragile thing in relationships. It can strip you raw and skin you alive. And at the same time, it can make you feel more alive than you’ve ever felt. The truth can strengthen a relationship, but it can also ruin it. All the famous quotes about how ‘the truth is a beautiful and a terrible thing’ and how it’ll ‘set you free’ and how ‘if you tell the truth you don’t have to remember anything’. How ‘no one is more hated than one who tells the truth.’ The truth in itself is multi-faceted. What is true to one person may not be true to the next. It’s subjective and ever-changing and based on personal experience. It can be its own counterpoint. Harmful as well as healing. 

But what a beautiful thing the truth is when it’s a safe place to put your trust. When the truth is spoken in and of love, it can repair and replenish a heart. Just before Harry’s mind quiets and he slips into a deep slumber, he floods himself with gratefulness for the truth. In all its forms, with all its faults. He’s thankful for the truth in his heart of hearts. The one truth that he knows to his core. The purest and most unveiled truth of all is that he loves Louis, that Louis loves him in return, and that this kind of truth can endure anything and will last as long as they continue to trust in it and in each other. 

“One day, when the light of the blue moon falls in your eyes, then you'll realize that only the naked truth can free your heart.” 

― sir Kristian Goldmund Aumann

 🍆❤️🍑