Chapter Text
Rosie apologises to Louis for blurting it out and not respecting his wishes and he forgives her because he does understand that she was coming from the mindset of it being a family secret and she does consider Harry her family. She also tries to talk to Harry the next day, but he doesn't pick up her call. Every time that happens, she slumps down into herself. That evening, Anne informs her that Harry has left to be with Gemma for the next few days.
In the meantime, Louis learns to breathe on his own. The medicine that he takes helps him soothe himself without smelling his own scent, and he doesn't go crazy without it or seeking out other alternatives that he can't rely on. When Joanne serves a slice of lemon cake for dinner, Louis loses his appetite.
Lottie tries to cheer both Louis and Rosie up, but all her attempts fail.
The days turn, and Louis sees his life take shape into what it would be without Harry.
On an afternoon when he is drowning in his misery, cuddled into his blankets, and rotting away in his bed, he can't help but think of the younger days, what he can recall of the first incident that should have pointed out his lack of smell.
When they were younger and Louis was having a bad day at school that ended up with Harry laughing at him, he took an oath to protect himself from Harry. The laugh had crushed all his hope of having someone by his side in an instant. He had failed miserably on that front. He had been on the receiving end of that contempt for years, but now, with the last piece of the puzzle, Louis has the answer.
He was merely walking down the school hallway when he saw a person clutching their stomach and growling. Louis was by their side in a second, helping them up and trying to get others help too. He thought they were hurt, and no one else was stepping forward but standing on the sides as they laughed ruthlessly, pointing at Louis.
“I am going into a rut; leave me alone,” was what the person had yelled harshly at him after Louis wouldn't leave their side even as people laughed thinking they were in need of help.
He called the nurse, and though she had appreciated his efforts, everyone else had laughed and snickered at him for days. The humiliation became his reputation.
Now Louis knows that he had missed a social cue. He was scared shitless, and he couldn't smell the rut pheromones of an alpha.
It was Harry's laugh that affected Louis the most out of all people. He craved his attention more back then. He was his friend too, wasn't he? Louis had thought so, so he never understood why Harry had laughed at him.
Even now this doesn't fit Harry’s general personality or how he acts towards other people, but again, they aren't Louis, are they?
He can't help but come to the conclusion all over again that Harry has something against him, and he assures himself all over again that he is right for doing all those things to Harry because Harry did them to him as well.
The days pass by and Harry doesn't come over for dinner anymore, nor does Louis go over to theirs. One day, Anne greets him at the store while he is shopping. It was Rosie's turn, but these days, he does everything he can to win her back. She has been slowly coming around since Harry started picking up her calls.
“You haven't been to the house lately, Louis,” Anne inquires him gently.
Louis mumbles and excuses that he has been a bit busy saying goodbye to his friends.
“You fought with my son, not with me. Come see me, yeah?” She pats him softly on the back.
He keeps his tears at bay when he walks home.
He does go over to her house when he is sure Harry isn't there.
Harry’s balcony door stays closed. He moves between London and Birmingham, visiting Gemma and staying at home. This time around, Joe doesn't meddle, and Gemma is curt with him too. No one asks what happened between them, and he keeps it to himself.
He recounts that night, a lot. He tries to relive Harry's concern, his support, his scent, and how that all somehow comforted Louis.
The sleeplessness returns. He stops eating anything with lemons in it. He doesn't sit by the tree. He keeps his balcony open, no matter how cold it gets at night. Sometimes he sees a flash of light, sometimes he prays for the darkness to engulf him. He gets better at not feeling sorry for himself.
The first time he closes his balcony doors is when he moves out.
He accepts the offer to Salford. He doesn't even know why he was so set on Manchester in the first place, the decision is simple. As promised, no one mentions it to Harry.
Anne gives him a gift. It sits on top of his bags in his dorm. His family comes to see him off. If circumstances were different, he’s sure Anne and Robin would have been there too. Gemma FaceTimes him whenever she can. That's the only solace that he can find in that the Styles family hasn't outcasted Louis completely.
Salford is big and he gets lost inside it. With the pouring rain, the ramifications of his actions seem smaller. The grudge he holds against Harry loses its meaning.
He hasn't been able to make any new friends. Without being able to scent, he can't read others as well as they read him. He's still the odd one out, the weird one.
He does manage to get acquainted with Niall Horan. Everyone knows him, and he knows everyone. When he gets too lonely, Louis hangs out with him. Other days, he is busy with classes and assignments. He is hardly keeping himself afloat and he fails at balancing his school life with trying to establish a social life. He stops visiting home, in an effort to give himself time to rest. He sets himself a mundane routine.
Today, it's raining buckets. He manages to finish his classes early and makes his way towards the cafe that Niall messaged him about. It's outside of campus. Louis has never left the campus unless he wants to go home. Today is just about the worst day to be out, too. He is soaked through, his hair is damp, and his clothes stick to his skin when he enters. He spots Niall right in the middle of the cafe. He freezes when he sees him .
Harry.
He hasn't seen him in months.
He has grown and his hair is a long mess. He looks a bit dishevelled and tired. Harry is sitting beside Niall, an arm wrapped around him, his shoulders relaxed.
He can't stay here. Harry looks up at him mid-laugh, and his eyes widen in shock.
Louis turns around, not looking back. The rain helps hide his tears; why is he even crying?
When he is back in the safety of his dorms, he informs Naill that he can't make it, because the rain is too heavy. He hopes Niall doesn't think it's a lie.
The next day, it's a bit harder to get out of bed. Harry could have been there just by chance. Louis doesn't remember if he ever heard of Harry getting into Salford. Harry might be just visiting a friend, he clearly didn't know Louis was here.
His thoughts race ahead of him. He shouldn't have run. The sooner he talks to Harry, the better. Salford isn't that big, he will see the curly lad somewhere. If he goes to school here, that is.
The days turn into weeks. He doesn't run into Harry again.
His family arranges a trip to London. They are going to pick him up from Salford. Louis is sure they know Harry is in Salford too. Out of all places, both of them have ended up in Salford.
He waits outside the gate at the main entrance. There, Harry stands wearing a band T-shirt, his curls escaping from a cap that sits backwards on his head. He frowns and bites his lip as he comes to stand near Louis. Louis feels restless. He wants to do something, say something, but he doesn't know where to start.
Harry looks good. He is in tight jeans that make his legs look longer. Louis prays that whatever his scent smells like, it doesn't betray his inner turmoil. He has no understanding of its ins and outs, so he usually relies on whatever Rosie and Lottie say about it. He closes the distance between them as inconspicuously as possible.
Harry is about to say something when a car horn jerks him away. Gemma picks them up in an eight-seater. He breathes out. This is clearly a plan their families have devised together. He puts a smile on his face. Everyone greets them happily. Robin sits in the passenger seat, with Lottie and Rosie in the middle, and Anne and Joe in the back with the girls.
“Sorry,” Gemma says, “you will have to squeeze in the middle.”
“It's alright, Gems. Good to see you,” Louis greets her. He gives his bag to his mom to hold onto for the ride. It only has a small water bottle and his medications to take after lunch.
By then, Rosie and Lottie had given them space. Louis slips in, and Harry follows after him.
Anne and Joanne fuss over them.
“How have you been, Louis?”
"Yeah, I am alright,” he mutters loud enough for them to hear while he settles himself between Rosie and Harry. He leans towards Rosie and rests his back on Harry's arm. It will have to do.
“Are you sleeping alright?” Joe asks.
He then adds, “five hours on average this week.”
“That's better,” Joe says, and he nods.
“You smell better too,” Lottie affirms, and Louis relaxes. They have hours to travel ahead of them, he’s glad he doesn’t stink.
The chatter rolls around him, with Harry being the next target of the questioning. Louis can feel the vibrations as he speaks at his side. He gives in to the sleepiness that settles over him. The journey pushes him to the brink of sleep, but he cannot find a position to relax in. He tries to shuffle as little as he can to find a comfortable position without being an inconvenience.
Harry removes his arm and rests it behind the seat, which allows Louis to sit back properly. He ends up pressing against Harry’s sides and stops pitying himself. Harry’s fingers come to rest on Louis' nape. It soothes him considerably. After that, he doesn't have to try getting more comfortable.
“I will wake him up.” There is shuffling around him.
A door slams, and he jerks awake. He is plastered to Harry’s side, who takes his hands off Louis, moving away. Louis sits back, trying to get a sense of his surroundings. The car has stopped, and everyone is out already.
“We stopped for lunch.” Harry informs him to get out of the car.
Louis lets out a wretched whine to calm his omega down. He wrings his wrists to get rid of the jitters.
He gets out and sees Harry walking a few steps ahead of him.
“Harry.” He doesn't stop, nor does he turn. Louis needs to fix this.
“Haz.”
“You have lost the right to call me that.” Harry turns, crossing his arms.
“Sorry. I didn't know I had it in the first place,” Louis tries.
Harry presses his lips together, unimpressed, and waits for Louis to continue. His hair flies in the wind.
The words form in his throat and die on his lips. Harry waits patiently, but after a while, he shrugs and walks ahead. Louis follows him.
Their families have left two seats, next to each other, of course.
“What do you want to order, Louis?” Anne asks him as he sits. Harry sits next to Gemma, and now Louis is on his other side.
Louis scans the menu and decides on ribs and chips.
“And for a drink?” Anne asks.
He smiles. Usually, he would go for lemonade, but he doesn't know if he can stomach it. He would order himself a beer, as Gemma does, but his medicine doesn't allow it either. He declines with a smile, instead.
The hustle and bustle continues, and his spirits lift at the normalcy of it all.
When they pay and start to leave, Joe hands Louis his bag, reminding him to take his medicine.
Louis rolls his eyes at Joe. He gets that she is concerned for her son, but he manages when he is on his own, doesn't he? Rosie leaves along with the others while Louis lingers with his glass of water. He smiles apologetically at the waiter who clears the table.
He finds his meds and pops one tablet open, breaks it in half, and puts it on the tip of his tongue. Louis hasn't adjusted to how bitter it tastes, and he scrunches up his face before he puts the water in his mouth.
“Are you ill?” Harry asks from behind him. This fucking kid.
“Yeah. Right on the death bed.” Louis swallows, then twists his face. His whole mouth tastes bitter.
He needs to buy himself candy. He sees them at the counter, and he makes his way there.
“Don't joke about that,” Harry scolds him morbidly. And okay .
“I thought I was dead to you, anyway.”
Harry keeps quiet until Louis buys his chocolate bar. When he is done reviving his taste buds, he offers the other half to Harry.
“I am scent-deprived,” he tells him as they make their way to the car.
“Is that even a thing? I have only ever heard about touch deprivation.”
Louis scoffs. “Of course it's a thing. I have got it, haven't I?”
Harry stops walking, and Louis turns to him exasperatedly.
“What does it do?” Harry folds his arms.
“It doesn't do anything,” Louis says.
Harry raises his eyebrow at him.
Louis sighs. “I can't smell scents, so I am deprived of them,” Louis comes clean. He wants Harry to know. Part of his anger towards him was due to his own frustrations anyway.
“Can you smell your own scent?” Harry says.
Louis laughs at the innocent question. “Nope, Rosie says I smell like rosemary roasted in butter.”
Harry crinkles his nose and watches over him. He seemingly gets lost in thought.
“Can we walk now?” Louis adds amusedly. Harry nods, and they walk back to the car, returning to their seats.
This time around, Louis is more relaxed. He is lulled into sleep almost immediately.
When they reach London, everyone hops out of the car. They are attending a show tonight, Anne, Robin, Joe, and Gemma bought the tickets. Their seats are amazing and Louis spends every second of it screaming, jumping, and singing. He causes a ruckus with Gemma and Rosie.
“I was sure they were going to kick us out,” Rosie says as they make their way out of the arena.
“I haven't had such fun in a while,” Louis says. “I’ve missed you, Rose." He stops and hugs his sister. He means it. She hugs him back. This is an apology.
It's quiet on the car ride back home.
Louis stays awake in bed, his mind running a mile. He had enough sleep throughout the day. That's the thing: if he sleeps during the day, he cannot sleep at night, and vice versa.
He tosses and turns and, in the end, throws his blanket off his body. He should have kept his nest when he moved into the dorm, but he is too exhausted to make a new one now. He craves a familiar scent that would calm him. The room is too clean and too bare. Louis hasn't been here in months. He should try to come by and visit his family more often.
He sighs. He has to figure out how he is going to manage his time better. He needs a schedule. He is falling behind in his studies. And then there is fucking Harry Styles. Did he have to attend Salford too?
It doesn't bother Louis as much as he thought it would back when they were deciding where to go to school. It's comforting to see a familiar face in the crowd. They can get along, can't they? Who is he kidding?
He flops back into bed.
A light flickers on his balcony. Louis scoffs.
The light lingers.
Louis jumps out of bed with a grunt to take a look.
Harry Styles is standing on his balcony. He clings to the wall behind him and tries to get his foot ahead. His phone is in his pocket, and its torch is on.
“What the hell are you doing?” Louis asks. Harry stumbles with a yelp.
“Jesus Christ,” they breathe at the same time.
Louis rolls his eyes. “You know, if you fall from this height, you will break at least three bones. If you fall on your back, you could be paralysed, and if it's your neck, it will break too.”
Harry hops back onto his balcony. "Thanks, but I have done this many times. If I had to fall, it would have happened a long time ago.”
“Don't you usually go down the tree?” Louis asks.
“You know that?”
Louis huffs. “I know more about you than you know about me.”
"Well, I'll have to change that. Give me your hand." Harry hops onto the ledge again, this time with more stability, and he stretches his arm out.
“Are you insane?”
Harry huffs. "Mom cut a sturdy branch here,” he says, pointing somewhere on the tree. Louis can't see a fucking thing. The torchlight pricks him in the eye.
“Can you shut it off?” Louis asks. Harry turns it off with a chuckle.
“What's so funny?”
“Nothing. I have turned it off, now give me your arm.”
“I am not going to give you anything. Why are you coming to my balcony anyway?” Louis crosses his arms.
Harry stares at him. Louis doesn't let up. In the moonlight, Harry’s eyes shine with mischief. Louis can see the faint outline of his dimple. His lips are pink, the stubble around his lips sticks out. Louis wonders if it would burn against his cheeks. A waft of lemons flows through the nights between them.
Harry clears his throat, and Louis leans back.
Harry jumps, Louis' heart skips a bit.
Harry hangs on the ledge of Louis’ balcony, then one of his feet slips out from beneath him. Louis scampers to help him up. Harry manages to hold himself on the ledge with three of his limbs and Louis holds Harry's back as he pulls himself up.
He ends up standing on Louis' balcony without a scratch.
“I did that!” Harry smirks triumphantly. He enters Louis' room.
“Styles,” Louis says exasperatedly.
Harry stands in the middle of the room, looking around, taking it all in. He nods his approval and it does Louis head in. He didn’t ask for Harry’s approval, nor for him to be here..
“Have you done that before?” Louis asks him the important question.
“Nope! I always use the branch,” Harry smiles proudly.
“You have been to my room before?” Louis asks incredulously, pointing at the open balcony doors.
“How do you think I managed to change your alarms and steal your assignments?”
Louis rubs a hand over his face. “I thought this was over.” He gestures between them, wishing his words were harsher.
Harry stares at him wordlessly.
Louis huffs and sits on his bed. Harry can stand all night staring at his walls, Louis isn't going to give him any leeway.
Louis waits for him to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares back at Louis. He tries to figure out what he is thinking. He can practically see the cogs in his brain turn, then Harry sighs.
“The night you dropped, why did you call me?” he asks.
Jesus fucking Christ. Louis rakes his brain for excuses but he comes up empty-handed.
He scoots back against the wall. He takes his blanket and wraps it around his knees, trying to distract himself from the heat that rises on his neck and the way his face flushes as he admits, “I didn't know who else to call.”
“Why didn't you tell me that you got into Salford?” Harry asks.
Louis looks up at him. “Pretty sure you asked me to stay the fuck away from you.”
Harry rubs a hand over his face, exasperatedly. “You should have stayed in the cafe that day.”
Louis merely shrugs. He is very aware of what state he was in when he saw Harry.
“I didn't know if I could approach you or talk to you when you have avoided me for months,” Harry amends, his finger scratching the backside of his hand nervously.
Louis lets out a sigh. They are really adults and for the first time in their lives they are talking things out instead of planning a ruse against each other. “You left. You were the one who told me not to show my face around you. Do you really expect me to come to you after everything that you have said and done to me?” He fails to keep the whine out of his voice. "I had to deal with Rosie anyway," he huffs.
“You always find a way to upturn my life.” Harry’s shoulders slump.
“You left me no choice.” Louis says it helplessly. He plays with the blanket. “You wanted me out of your life, and I wanted you out of mine. We got that; what else more do you want?” Louis implores.
Harry takes a step further and eyes Louis closely. Louis can see the torment carved on Harry’s face. He feels it too, though he can't quite grasp why.
“And you are satisfied with how it has turned out?” Harry is equally conflicted.
Louis thinks back to the last three months and he feels torn. Harry’s face twists in frustration. He clasps his lips shut.
An owl hoots. The clock in Louis's room ticks away. The curtains flutter with the wind.
“I am sorry.” Harry’s words are desperate.
“For what?” Louis asks, masking his surprise. No one has ever apologised to Louis. No one.
“For everything that I did to you.”
Louis stays still, drinking it in. It doesn't measure up to anything.
Harry shakes his head. “I can't sleep. I haven't been able to since that night.” His words turn into a whisper.
It hangs between them.
“It is more exhausting to ignore you more than tormenting you,” Louis admits. “I don't want to do this anymore.”
Harry nods. “Me too.” He pauses.“Are we good?” Harry offers his hand, hopeful. Louis shakes it, trying it out. Harry’s hand is soft and warm. He squeezes it gently and Louis preens at the touch.
“We are good.” A burden lifts off his chest, he can finally breathe.
Harry smiles as he exhales a sigh of relief. “I always want you in my life, despite what I might otherwise say.”
“In the heat of the moment,” Louis adds for his own apology.
Harry brings him in for a hug and lemons and grass encompass him. Louis relaxes in his arms. When Harry lets him go and moves away, he sways a bit, trying to chase the scent. Harry catches the movement. He steps back, licking his lips. Louis wonders if those taste like lemons too.
“Good night, omega.” Harry bows and gives Louis a private smile as he makes his way towards the balcony.
"Don't.” Louis grabs him back. “You aren't jumping across balconies, not with the tree cut.”
“How am I supposed to go home?” Harry says it like a petulant child.
“I didn't ask you to hop on the ledge,” Louis begrudges.
“I made it, didn't I?” He smirks.
Louis rolls his eyes. “It was pure luck. I will open the backdoor in the morning. I can't risk Rosie waking up.”
Harry stares at him. "I am not sleeping on the floor.”
“You can sleep with me.” Louis bites his tongue, unsure of what he is even offering. He knows sleeping with someone else helps him sleep better, it works with Lily all the time.
“Okay,” Harry accepts quickly, as if he is afraid Louis would take it back. Louis can take it back if he wants to, but he offered, didn't he? He nods nervously, and Harry lets out a shaky breath.
“Okay.” Louis nods to himself.
He scoots to one side of the bed, making space for Harry, and arranges his blanket at their feet while Harry gets in the bed with him.
They both stare at the ceiling. Louis focuses on his own breathing, trying not to let the smell of freshly cut grass overwhelm him. He fails.
“Louis?” Harry asks.
“Yeah?”
“Can you?” Harry lets it hang in the air beside him, turning on his side and facing his back to Louis.
Louis shifts to his side, facing it.
Harry leans back in his space.
Louis wraps his arm around him, letting it rest over his stomach, hoping he hasn't read this wrong.
Harry sighs and relaxes. His breathing gets softer. Louis noses at Harry’s nape eagerly and the smell of the forest fills his mind. The smell of grass gets denser, soothing his insides. Soon he will be floating in bliss.
“Tomlinson,” Harry murmurs softly and places his hand over Louis's, their fingers resting against each other. Louis opens them, and Harry slips his fingers into Louis's, holding them together.
“Styles,” he breathes softly in their slumber.
When Louis wakes up the next day, it's after ten in the morning. The bed is empty, but still warm, and the pillows are askew. He stirs, sighing, and brings a hand to his head. Harry's scent still lingers in the air.
He needs to close the back door before anyone gets any ideas.
He freshens up quickly and goes down to check on the door. It's locked from inside. Louis hopes Harry didn't use the balcony to go back to his house.
His family is bustling when he makes his way into the kitchen.
Harry is sitting at the kitchen table with a plate full of pancakes. He smiles at Louis and says, "Good morning.”
Louis can't help but smile at the dork. He is cute, with bright eyes, damp hair, and curls escaping around his face.
"Oh, you're awake!” Lottie claps. Rosie shares a conspiratory smile with her.
Louis ignores them and goes to Lily and Ivy to smother them with his brotherly love.
"No!" Lily protests, and Louis pouts.
“Louis, come have breakfast, darling,” his mother says, fixing a plate for him.
"Well, I am done.” Rosie gets up from her chair and pats Harry on the back. “Good luck!” She winks at him, and Harry turns red. She leaves with another wink directed at Louis. Ivy and Lily run after her, escaping from Louis' morning hug and kisses, giggling.
“I am done too!” Lottie places the dishes in the sink and runs out of the kitchen.
"What's the hurry?" He asks after them.
"Oh, to be young. I'm still exhausted from yesterday,” his mother says while ruffling Louis' hair. Louis lets her. Then she leaves the kitchen too.
Louis turns to Harry in a hushed voice. “Did anyone see you?”
Harry is amused. "I had a close call with Rosie, but nope.”
“Alright.” Louis nods, taking a bite of his pancakes. It's delicious.
“I did some reading about scent deprivation.” Harry passes him the maple syrup.
Louis isn't even surprised. “Of course you did.”
Harry sits in the chair next to him, sliding it closer to Louis’s. Their legs bump against each other. The touch stirs something in Louis. He wants to lean against Harry’s side, like yesterday.
“Will scented candles help you?” Harry asks him thoughtfully.
“Not really.” Louis looks into Harry’s eyes. The concern he sees in them warms him up. “Inanimate or animal smells don't work. It needs a person’s scent.”
Harry gives Louis his full attention andLouis leans further into the gaze.
“I need to have constant people and familiar scents around me. If something changes drastically, like there is more or less scent, my omega perceives it as a threat. So, it's just not the deprivation. If I am overwhelmed, I can drop,” he explains.
“Like when you touch a touch-deprived person.” Harry’s voice is softer. Louis wants to hold it in his arms and carry it with him everywhere.
“Exactly.”
“But why are you on meds?” Harry looks worried. “Is that okay to ask? You don't need to tell me anything that you don't want.”
“You can ask Styles.” Louis waves him away, then adds just as sincerely. “Until I adjust to the new scents, my doctor suggested I stay on the medications. The doses will increase gradually until I get the hang of it. It's been three months, so now they will probably start decreasing it. Also, because me and my omega aren't exactly harmonious, it helps to bridge the gap there as well.”
Harry nods in understanding. “But you said you couldn't smell yourself. Does that affect you?”
“Yeah,” Louis says. “It affects my omega. When I'm under stress and can't smell myself, my omega panics and thinks something is wrong. I mean, something is wrong, but I am not in danger, you know.” Harry nods, following along. “So instead, just an outward, familiar scent helps. The smell of home, or my nest, sometimes helps.”
“Sometimes?” Harry asks. He genuinely wants to know, and Louis finds it easier to answer his questions than Rosie's and Lottie’s.
“I can't smell myself, my family, or even my nest. It gets annoying when I can't smell my own scent, isn't that supposed to be for me to be able to find comfort in it? It’s not like I can smell others either. There are just a few scents that I can smell or decipher. I had a test done with different profiles, and they found out what smells comfort me.”
“And which are those?” Harry asks attentively.
Louis adds lemons, grass, and trees to the list while his heart beats out of his chest. Confessing that those scents bring comfort to Louis reveals other things that he craves, like Harry.
“Do you know what I smell like?” Harry asks, his eyes expectant and cautious. He opens the palm of his hand and offers it to Louis. Louis places his own in it. The touch is gentle and Louis wants to hold his hand for his entire life.
The innocent question brings heat to Louis' face. His neck feels warm. Anticipation stirs in his stomach as he watches Harry. “Yes.” His cheeks turn red.
“Then I can help.” Harry says it expectantly.
“How?” Louis asks.
There is something disastrous in its answer, something that might fulfil him and bring out the content sigh.
“You can scent me whenever you want,” Harry offers.
Louis nods, and Harry smiles at him. Louis’ heart beats faster than it ever has, causing a ruckus inside his chest.
Harry’s cheeks are still red when he pours orange juice into their respective glasses. He slides one over to Louis, and a waft of lemon comes his way. Louis leans into it. He's going to miss this when they get back on campus. He is already looking forward to next weekend, when maybe he can come again.
The pancakes are fluffy, sweet, and warm. Louis marvels at each bite, eating at a leisurely pace. Inside, he is freaking out.
Harry finishes the last of his orange juice. He gets up and gathers both of their plates and glasses for the sink.
“I am coming back on Saturday. Wanna come together?”
Louis giggles. “At least wine and dine me first!”
Harry holds his gaze. “Will you let me?” He asks with those captivating green eyes.
“What?” Louis isn't sure if he heard him right. He was joking.
“Will you let me wine and dine out of you, Tomlinson?” Harry asks sincerely.
His eyes are hopeful, and his lips are plump. The dark forest calls to Louis. Louis would eat out of Harry’s palms. The thought makes his head spin.
“Yes,” he says, out of breath.
By the time they finish their breakfast, the house has a new glow.
The early afternoon has creeped in.
Louis completely forgot about Gemma. When he goes to Styles house to say goodbye to her, Anne tells him she already left in the morning for London. She gripes about how her children do not visit her often enough, and she bashes Louis for that too.
Harry saves him by promising that both of them will see her on Saturday, then they take her leave.
All the way along the walk to the train station, Louis can focus on only one thing; he has a crush on the alpha. He should be panicking, but nothing comes. He finds Harry’s company cheerful, he finds himself at ease.
Harry walks beside him in a soft white t-shirt and jeans. He looks delicious. His curls bounce with every step he takes, and he is all dimples and smiles as he talks to Louis. Louis can't take his eyes off of the way Harry's twinkles in the late afternoon sun. He basks in the attention that Harry gives him.
The train journey takes them two hours but Louis wants it to last longer.
They separate at the main gate of the university, as both have to walk in different directions. He wishes Harry would have stayed with him for some more time, but he will take what he gets.
Louis gets lost in daydreams. He craves Harry like nothing else. Every time he walks around campus, he wants to catch a glimpse of him. He can text him, but he just wants it to play out naturally. Sadly, it takes them until Wednesday to run into each other. Louis is walking out of his class, which ran late, and for the first time ever, Niall has cancelled on him, so Louis decides to pay the library his overdue visit.
He is looking for an empty table when he hears Harry shout in a whisper, “Tomlinson.”
Louis turns, and there between the shelves, Harry is sitting with a pile of books, his laptop open, and a welcoming smile on his lips. Louis has never felt so much giddiness and relief at the same time. He takes the chair opposite him as he greets him.
They don't talk much and work in silence. Whenever Louis looks up from his work and catches Harry's eye, he doesn't want to look away.
Once Louis deems he has done enough studying for the day and his stomach starts rumbling with hunger, he puts down his pen. He closes his laptop and starts closing his books as well. Across from him, Harry mirrors his actions.
When they step out of the library, Harry asks if he wants to grab a bite and Louis agrees. They leave campus to go to a cafe that Harry knows.
It's a small space but very lovely and cosy, which Louis appreciates. This isn't a date, he reminds himself, and also that he is on budget. He can't splurge on eating out every other day. He picks up the menu anyway, remaining aware of these things. While Louis orders himself a toastie and an espresso, Harry orders a sausage sandwich and hot chocolate. Louis teases him about it, but Harry takes the mocking in stride. Louis wants to poke his dimples. He stares at Louis with attentive admiration when he talks animatedly about his classes, and they find themselves in piles of giggles.
Harry pays the bill instead of splitting, brushing off Louis’ attempts to pay by asking him not to treat him like a stranger. That shuts up Louis quickly.
He apologises to Harry when he walks him back to his dorms about calling him an outsider all those weeks ago.
“You meant it,” Harry says as he puts his hands in his pockets.
Louis shakes his head. “Not entirely. I just wanted to protect myself. I wasn't ready for you to know about the scent thing. Or the omega thing,” he adds begrudgingly. After all, Louis himself along with his omega chose Harry as his safe place enough to form an emotional connection with him and to drop in his vicinity.
“Do you like my scent?” Harry asks teasingly.
Louis huffs. “I don't like your scent, Styles.”
Harry pouts and Louis wants to kiss it away.
When they reach Louis’ Building, Harry bids him goodbye with a hug. Louis swims in his scents, burying himself as close as possible to Harry without being suspicious. Harry plants a kiss on his cheek effortlessly when he releases Louis, taking a step back. A small smile plays on his lips as he walks away before Louis recovers from it. His cheek tingles where Harry rested his lips ever so gently. It does feel like it was a date.
Louis sleeps with a smile lingering on his face that night. He wakes up with an eagerness he hasn’t felt in ages. He can't help but think about Harry’s smile, his dimples, his curls, the way he moves, and the way he looks at Louis. His thoughts are consumed by the alpha. There is a skip in his step today. His day goes by with a blink of an eye, and as he makes his way to the library after his classes, he is very hopeful that he might find Harry there.
And he does find him buried in the books with a frown. Louis stands a bit away, admiring him from afar. It looks like this is Harry’s go-to table. Harry eventually looks up from his notes, to meet Louis' eyes. The smile that spreads on his face when he spots Louis is a masterpiece. Louis wants to see it every day. He decides to sit next to Harry instead of opposite him.
As soon as he is settled and his books are arranged the way he wants and he returns the smile to Harry. Harry smells refreshing and Louis is doused in his pheromones by the time they leave the library. A content sigh escapes him in the evening air.
They go to the campus dining hall this time, and Hary buys them coffee and some rolls to go. They sit on the grass to eat. Louis marvels at Harry’s hair, and he tugs at a curl. It feels soft between his fingers. Harry preens under his shenanigans. Louis can't help but make him laugh and giggle until he turns red in the face. After Harry finishes eating and drinking his coffee, he lays down in the grass with his eyes closed. Louis takes the time to stare at him openly. He so desperately wants to sit on him, to lay in his lap, to lay down on him, just to have some contact with him.
Harry catches Louis ogling when he opens his eye just a bit. “What are you doing up there?” he asks, looking up at Louis. Louis shrugs.
Harry wraps his hand around Louis' arm, bringing him onto the grass next to him, ever so delicately. “Watch the sky with me.” Harry says.
Louis is obsessed. Time slows down when he is with Harry. He craves this side of Harry more. He scoots a little closer to Harry, their arms brushing. Harry pulls him into his side, wrapping an arm around him. Louis has to remind himself that they are in public.
He sees a small smile that plays on Harry’s lips. It's not the first time that Louis wants to put his lips on him.
Harry turns to look at him.
His eyes are green, and they hold everything that Louis wants to say.
Louis turns his gaze back to the sky.
“Do you ever wish you were a cloud?” he asks.
Harry giggles into Louis' shoulder, and Louis feels proud. He runs his hand through his curls until they are tousled. He can't keep his hands out of Harry’s hair for long, as Harry describes every single reason he would want to be a cloud. He says he wants to be as fluffy and soft as possible if he gets to be near Louis’ cloud.
On Saturday morning, Louis is running late. When he reaches the station, he is out of breath. He spots Harry somewhere in the crowd waiting for him, and his face lights up when he sees Louis. To his own disappointment, Louis spends the journey asleep on Harry’s shoulder. He could have spent that time talking to Harry; he wants to know everything about him, and there never seems to be enough time.
They do not have any classes together, they live on the other side of campus and Louis deems it to be too far. The time they spend in the library is spent working, and the time that they spend together grabbing a bite afterwards and talking is hardly ever two hours of the day, not to mention that all the coursework that he needs to get through is piling up as the days go by. The outside has gone colder and it is making Louis crankier than he already is.
As soon as they arrive at the Birmingham station, their families are there to greet them, which is a bit of a surprise for Louis. He looks over to Harry who looks just as confused to see them.
“Oh didn't expect you here, love,” Anne says to Harry.
“We are waiting for Gemma. She should be here any moment,” Robin informs them.
Louis greets them, nevertheless.
Lily and Ivy don't leave Louis' side. He is happy to be with his sisters, but he just can't fathom why he is getting frustrated every second that he waits on the platform. Rosie and Lottie are bickering with Harry non-stop, Louis doesn't get any chance to get his word in. His mom has more questions about his health, sleep, and weight; the list is never-ending. He just gets quieter and quieter in order to keep from snapping at them. It has just been a week since he last saw them, and by the way he is being treated, it seems like six months have passed.
To his annoyance, once Gemma gets there, they all hop into the cars, and instead of heading home, they are going out to lunch.
Louis' hair is a mess, he doesn't like the t-shirt that he threw on this morning in a hurry, and he is wearing an old pair of jeans that are way too tight around his thighs for him to be comfortable. Plus, Harry is miles away, lost in the chatter of their families.
Even when they sit at the table, Harry is in the farther left corner with Lottie and Gemma. He can't hear what they are talking about from where he sits with Ivy and Lily on either side. Lily demands to be fed by her elder brother, and Louis wishes someone would feed him instead.
University is getting better for him, and it was easier to forget about how taxing the change was for Louis before he had Harry to distract him. His worries are flooding back now that they are home. He wants Harry to be next to him more than ever, but Harry seems to have no care.
What if he was wrong? What if Harry doesn’t want him? What if Harry rejects Louis’ omega? The uncertainty weighs him down.
When they get home, Gemma decides that it's time for a movie marathon, as they haven't done that in ages. They argue passionately over which series to watch, ranging from Hunger Games to Twilight. Louis hears The Maze Runner get thrown into the mix as well as Harry Potter.
Ivy comes running up to him and says, "Boo, I want to watch the ships.”
He gets up from the sofa and picks her up. “Let's tell them yeah.”
Lily is boisterous, like Rosie, and outspoken. She knows what she wants and asks people for it. Ivy is more like Louis, quiet before she gets to know you, wanting to stay in the shadows, with very few people with whom she confides in. She is satisfied to be on her own. He kisses her on the cheek and goes to where everyone is standing, gathered around the shelf next to the TV, holding the DVD collection. They do things the old fashioned way.
“Ivy wants a say,” he declares, budging his way into the conversation. Everyone quiets down and focuses on Ivy for her to speak. The attention gets too much for her, and she burrows her face in Louis’ neck.
“Oh, darling,” he says, rubbing her back. “It's okay, love. You can tell them,” he coos.
Harry gets next to him, tucking a stray hair behind her ears, which makes her look up at him. He places his hand on her back supportively. “What do you want to watch, Love?” he asks.
She picks up her head, stares at him with wide eyes, and says, “Ships.”
Everyone cheers in excitement, and she looks proud.
Harry takes Ivy from his arms and whispers to Louis, confused, “Ships?”
“Pirates of the Caribbean," Louis provides.
“Isn't she too young to watch that?” he asks.
“Isn't she too old to be picked up?” he retaliates.
Harry’s frown deepens.
Louis sighs. “She and Lily watched it. They find it more funny than scary.”
Harry nods and takes her to the shelves, picking out the pirates collection with her.
“We have a winner,” he announces, clearly favouring and monopolising Ivy, which Rosie and Gemma protest.
Louis goes into the kitchen to make popcorn and Gemma follows him in. The chatter of the adults quiets down as they enter.
"Oh, please don't stop on our behalf,” Gemma says smartly. “I know all the things that you are gossiping about.” She clicks her tongue.
Anne huffs jokingly, and Joe and Robin laugh with her.
“Teenagers. Am I right?” Gemma rolls her eyes as Joe and Robin chuckle, and Louis smacks her lightly on the arm. “Hey!”
“They are talking about your alpha anyway,” Gemma tells him, bringing out the bowls from the cupboards.
Louis falters. “I don't have one,” he says to her, then turns to his mom. “You know that I'm single, right? I'm not dating anyone.”
“Aren't you?” Anne asks him curiously.
Louis stops pouring the oil into the saucepan and fish mouths. He is single, he hasn't dated anyone. No one has even asked him out. He hasn't been on a single date and spending time with Harry does not count. They are just friends, apart from the fact that Louis’ omega is attached to him. Who wouldn't be? And Louis is young, it's not like he is harbouring feelings for him or pining after him. It's just a crush. They surely as hell aren't dating. Even if he wants to, very much so. But that doesn’t seem to be the case on Harry’s part. Harry hasn’t talked to him all day. Sure, Harry did ask to wine and dine with him, and Louis agreed, but they haven’t talked about it explicitly. The alpha will find someone else very soon.
“Stop teasing him,” Gemma says, throwing a kernel at Anne. They all laugh at that, and Louis stands there trying to make sense of his inner turmoil that is saying something to him. Robin shakes his head and they move on to another topic.
Gemma heats the pan, and Louis pours the kernels into another one, adding butter to the other while she closes the lid on the previous one.
He takes the bottle of caramel out of the fridge and microwaves it to soften it, watchful that it doesn't burn, while Gemma looks after the popcorn, smirking and giggling at something with the others.
Once all the bowls are filled with popcorn, Louis mixes some with caramel and sets that aside. When he is finished, Gemma helps him carry everything out in the living room, where everyone has taken their spots.
Rosie hits the play button, and the movie starts.
Louis hands one bowl to Harry.
“Oh caramel!” Harry exclaimed excitedly, taking it from his hands. Louis plops down next to him, the only space vacant when Gemma sits on the only remaining chair.
“Thank you, Tomlinson,” he whispers next to Louis' ears, and that sends a shiver down his spine.
“Pleasure Styles,” he says, snuggling up to him.
The steady buzz from the movie, being surrounded by his family, and Harry’s familiar smell pull him into a lull.
Rosie whispers, "How do you do that?” and he becomes aware of the edges of his surroundings.
“Do what?” Harry whispers back, his chest moving under Louis.
“Make him so peaceful.”
Harry huffs. The action shakes Louis' comfortable pillow, so Louis shifts more into it, whining, and Harry stills. This is way better; it's more firm than it's softer and he cannot get enough of the smell of lemons.
“Nevermind.” Rosie’s voice moves away.
When Louis actually wakes up, it's late in the evening. The last rays of sun filter into the room. The fan is still whirling but the hall is empty and quiet. The TV is turned off. He is alone, so he takes his time to get up. Then he moves through the house into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Anne is sitting at the table, reading a book. She puts it aside when she sees Louis.
“Did you sleep well?”
He nods. When he is finished drinking, he sits by the chair next to Anne and puts his head down on the table, closing his eyes.
Anne runs her hand through his head. It reminds him of his mother.
“How’s uni?” she asks.
“Good,” he answers truthfully. “It's a bit hectic, but I am managing.”
“So you and Harry have made up?” she asks.
“It seems like it.” He sits up and says, "I am glad Harry is at Salford too.”
“And I'm glad to hear that,” she said, switching a smile. “Harry was so happy when he saw you at Salford. He even called me to tell me. I'm sure a familiar face helped, he was getting lonely.”
Louis nods even though he is sure Harry is more helpful to him than he will ever be to Harry.
“I hope he doesn't cause you any trouble.”
“No. It's actually nice to have him. We study together,” he tells her proudly.
“Sounds like you have fun,” she teases.
"Yeah, it's alright,” he says, letting the smile flow on his face.
“Where's everyone?” he asks her, trying to gauge where Harry is.
“Gemma is out with Rosie and Lottie, and Lily and Ivy went to their playdate,” she says with a knowing smile of her own.
“And Harry?” he asks, trying to keep the blush off of his face.
“He went to meet some friends.”
Louis feels all of his hopes of spending the evening with Harry vanish into thin air.
“He didn't want to wake you up. You were sleeping soundly.”
Louis stays for a bit talking to her, then takes her leave to go help his mother with the dinner.
Which usually means just arranging the table and cutting the bread.
They have dinner, and the family gossip session runs rampant with Lottie and Rosie's tales. Lily and Ivy have a lot to fill Louis with too. He listens to every single one of their mischievous adventures, encouraging them with his own ideas.
When he goes to his room for the first time since they got home, the first thing he does is open his balcony door. Harry’s stays closed through the night.
Louis keeps tossing and turning. There is something wrong with this bed. He thinks of building a nest for himself but he is sure he would need to ask everyone about their clothes or something. The idea of it feels wrong. Giving up his efforts, he looks through the calendar. His doses have been minimised this week, so he is still adjusting. This is the normal exhaustion that any student feels, at least he hopes so. His irritation and anger have reduced massively, though. If he is not at Harry’s throat every given second is if anything is to go by.
Louis’ heat is due in a week.
He wonders what it would be like to spend it with someone, or if he should take suppressants. He doesn't think either would bode well for him with his lack of smell. He still has to figure out what to do about it. Harry has said to him that he can scent him whenever he wants, and Louis figures he should get on that offer.
Honestly, he needs it now before he goes out of his mind. He has just spent the whole day in his company and he is sure he smells like Harry. It is frustrating to just want him more. Maybe he should stick to spending a limited amount of time in his vicinity. It might be the change of rooms too, but this is his home. He throws his pillows haphazardly, but they fail to give him the comfort that Harry provides. Maybe Louis is getting too dependent on him.
Louis falls asleep somewhere between his brain-storming and trying to find a comfortable nook on his bed. Harry’s balcony stays closed even when he wakes with a sore neck and in a foul mood.
It's not yet breakfast time in his household when he enters the shower, trying to soothe himself. He isn't on the verge of dropping, that he is sure of, because his heat is only a week away, and he knows his symptoms. He does not wash his hair; frustrated, he just gives up on it. Today, he is just annoyed.
When he enters the kitchen for breakfast, Harry is putting his empty plate in the sink; no one else around and the house is silent.
“Good morning,” he says cheerily.
Louis ignores him. The last thing he wants to see is Harry when he didn't even think of Louis once yesterday.
“Everyone is out,” Harry informs him.
“Out where?” Louis asks, his annoyance slipping into his voice. He has come home from university, and his family can’t even find time to spend with him.
“Lottie and Rosie are meeting up with their friends.” Harry pours a glass of juice while Louis tries to find something appetising to eat. His mom has made the pancakes again, but he doesn't want to eat them. He looks through the fridge but doesn't find anything else besides cake and ice cream. So, he helps himself to it. Guess that's breakfast for him today.
Harry frowns when he sees Louis taking out the cake box from the fridge and the ice cream tub from the freezer.
“Joe made you pancakes before she went to drop Lily and Ivy off to their playdate.”
“How many playdates do those two even need?” He asks himself, trying to scoop out the frozen ice cream from its tub. It’s turned rock-solid. He tries again with more force, but fails. The stupid ice cream doesn't even budge. He throws it aside for a while and turns to the cake, biting into it right away. It's too sweet for his liking. He turns the packet over and see that it's fucking strawberry and vanilla.
“I can fry you some bacon,” Harry says, helpful as ever.
Louis grimaces. He doesn't care. He is too upset to speak to Harry.
“Are you alright?” Harry asks.
“Bloody fucking fantastic,” Louis answers with another bite of the cake. Nope, it's too sweet. He needs something citrusy. Didn't they have some lemon cookies or anything at this point? He ramages through shelves while Harry watches him. He ends up finding some crisps. He will have to deal with them.
Harry opens the fridge and starts taking things out of it. Louis leaves him to that, focusing on his crisps.
When he goes through the whole packet, he moves towards ice cream. It's a bit melted around the edges now, so he scoops a spoonful and shoves it in his mouth.
The hunger isn't helping his frustration, and the ice cream is far from filling his stomach, not to mention that it is far too sweet.
He watches as Harry puts two buttered slices in a pan. Louis narrows his eyes. The nerve of his alpha to leave Louis without saying anything to him and show up in the morning like nothing happened.
Louis shoves his spoon back in with enough force that the tub slips from his hand tilting over. The smell of grilled cheese fills up the room and his mouth waters. He gives up.
Harry puts the dish of two grilled cheese sandwiches cut in small triangles, just like Louis likes them, in front of him.
He looks up at Harry, still annoyed, but he is too hungry to ignore the offered food. He bites into it. It's different from how his mom makes it, but it's delicious. He looks down to find that Harry has sneaked bacon pieces and some green stuff into it. So maybe he is so hungry that he will eat anything.
He eats in silence, taking angry bites and gulping down his juice. Harry stares at him, not speaking a word. When Louis finishes, he grabs the plate from him and puts it in the sink along with the glass.
Guilt licks at Louis from inside. He might have overreacted.
“What have you planned for today?” Harry asks him.
“Why, don't you have other people to attend to?” Louis retorts.
Harry frowns.
“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asks sincerely.
"No, what could you have done?” he counters.
“You are upset.”
Upset isn't the right word, but while Harry isn't wrong, he isn't right either. Louis huffs.
"No, don't do that. Talk to me. What did I do?” Harry asks.
“Where were you last night?”
"I was with Zayn," Harry says.
“The whole night?” Louis asks, even though he knows he has no right to know that.
Harry’s eyes sparkle with realisation. He takes Louis’s hand in his. “You missed me.”
“I did not.” Louis takes his hand away, and Harry pouts. “This isn't funny, Styles.” He is genuinely upset. “You didn’t even talk to me. You ignored me the whole day and then you disappeared for the night too.”
“He needed help with his sisters. His parents were out. I didn't plan to stay the night, I was just helping out a friend, Louis. Zayn is like a brother to me,” Harry explains, and that does calm Louis down, but it still leaves Louis perturbed.
“Come here.” Harry moves onto the next chair to his and pulls Louis close. He puts his arms around him, making his neck accessible for Louis. Louis takes Harry’s scent in. It does wonders for Louis, he calms down slowly, relaxes in his hold with each breath he takes. Harry cards his fingers through Louis' head, gently massaging at his nape. Louis almost goes plaint in his arms. Harry lifts him up, so he is now sitting securely in Harry’s lap. He moves Louis’ legs so he is straddling him. “You were tired yesterday,” he says. “And you slept on me. Our families are big Lou. We are bound to be lost in them, but I promise I'll make more space for you.” Harry leaves a kiss in his hair above his ear and adds softly, “I am sorry I wasn't there for you last night.”
“You didn't even leave a message.” Louis says it petulantly.
Harry leaves another kiss. “I am sorry.”
Louis’ head is a mush.
“Do you want to scent me?” Harry asks. This is the first time he has talked about it since Louis accepted his offer. Louis nods, embarrassed by the need and want, but he is also enamoured with how easily Harry can read him.
“We can do this for as long as you want.” Harry gives his permission and guides Louis to his scent gland. Louis shuffles closer and deepens his breath. He trails his nose over Harry’s neck and the smell of forest enters his nostrils. It soothes Louis immediately, he forgets all his worries. His mind floats calmly, he soars around in the grass. The lemon scent is strong here. He rests his lips, just a touch, and he can feel them tingle. Given their positions, he can't help but slick a little. Harry’s hold on him tightens. He tries to find a better position but instead ends up grinding down and feels Harry harden beneath him.
He moves away from Harry’s space, tilting his face a little so he can look at Harry. They still have their hands around each other, creating their own little world. Louis wants to live in it forever. “Sorry.” He knows it's just biology, but he wants so much more from Harry.
“Lou, I promise to do better in the future.” Harry kisses the palm of his hand.
Harry swallows and looks down at Louis’ lips before looking back up and holding Louis' gaze. When he seems satisfied with whatever he finds in Louis' eyes. he brings his hand to Louis’ neck and rubs his thumb along his jaw, moving it into the corners of Louis’ lips, tantalising, and asks, “Can I?”
Louis nods shakily.
Harry’s hand moves into Louis's hair, and the other brings him closer to him. Louis slides over Harry’s thighs, leaning into his hold easily. Harry moves forward, taking Louis’s lips in his. Harry tastes just as Louis had imagined, even better, really. Louis melts into the kiss. His hand moves in Harry’s hair and he tugs at them sprightly. Harry moans and bucks his hip up. Louis feels Harry moving beneath him. Harry places both of his hands down on Louis' waist, under his shirt, holding him down onto him. It drives Louis crazy. He bites down on Harry’s lip.
He pushes into Harry’s mouth, taking and drinking him in. Harry lets him have him till they are out of breath.
Harry pulls away as Louis protests. Their breaths are heavy. Harry’s hair is a mess, but Louis still plays with it, trying to calm the curls to the back. Harry’s lips are red and wet. Louis is sure they mirror his own. Louis wants Harry to take him there and then. He is soaked through with Harry’s sweat. Harry looks at him with admiration and in awe. Louis kisses him on the cheek and on the nose, all over his face. He then dives in with his mouth. Harry moans against him, his hands guiding and holding Louis close to him.
“Tomlinson?” Harry comes up for air, his lips red, his eyes blown.
Louis tries to get his erratic breaths under normal. “Yeah?”
Harry shakes his head with a smile and leaves another peck on Louis' lips. He brings their foreheads together. Louis breathes the same air as Harry's, and the sweet flowers and lemons waft between them.
“You are an idiot,” Harry whispers against his lips.
Louis swats at him, moving away, but Harry’s hold on him tightens and he laughs. “I heard, you are also single?” Harry enquires and Louis turns bright red. He squirms. Harry lets out an indignant sound. His hand holds Louis by his nape and he stills.
Harry kisses his cheek and then the other before bringing their lips closer. Louis is having a headrush.
“Will you be my omega?” Harry asks delicately, eyes staring deep within his own blues.
Louis moves his lips over Harry’s skin, holding onto his hair. “Yes Alpha.” He moans in the kiss.
-–*--
Harry’s stirring wakes Louis up at dawn. It’s Sunday. December snow falls outside the window in the early morning. Louis would like at least another three hours of sleep. He refuses to open his heavy eyes, he is too comfortable to let Harry out of his grasp. He is plastered to Harry’s back and his scent is driving him crazy, he can't get enough of it. He noses at Harry, getting infinitely closer to him, and inhales.
Harry shifts in his arms, turning to face him. Louis protests being jostled until Harry moves Louis face to his neck, where Louis can breathe it in till his lungs are full.
Now Louis is properly awake, Harry is warm around him, and their legs are tangled against each other.
He blinks his eyes open and moves slightly away to look at his alpha’s face. The movement brings their parts infinitely closer down there, and Louis can feel Harry twitch. He is wet. Harry is staring back at him brazenly. Harry’s breath stutters and his lips part. Louis takes it all in languidly. The comfort of his scent surrounds him, the deep pines and freshly dewed glass. His mouth waters. He needs to chase it too. He moves his hips just a little experimentally and Harry's eyes turn a dark shade of green. The smell of strong wood that fills the air consumes him. His mouth falls open, Louis wants to taste it, wants it to linger in his core. He licks his lips in anticipation, and Harry’s eyes track the movement before pinning him with a devouring gaze. Louis wants to offer himself up for Harry just to do that.
"Louis,” Harry warns, holding onto Louis' waist instead. Louis is filled with want and desire. He bares his neck, his back arching so it's closer to Harry’s mouth.
“Tomlinson,” Harry says, gripping Louis in his hold, stilling him so he can't move as slick gushes out of Louis.
They are both panting, and Louis moves closer. He feels Harry’s breath fanning over his lips, warm and delicate. He looks at Harry, taking him in, before he closes his eyes slowly. His hands move up into Harry’s hair, which is soft against his fingers. He presses Harry just a little closer, and in the next breath, Harry’s lips latch onto his. Harry’s tongue swipes at Louis’ lips ever so faintly, and Louis dives into it. Harry tastes like lemons, his lips are soft against his own. Louis lets out a moan. Harry catches his bottom lip between his teeth, and Louis parts his thighs even more. He is soaked through. Harry moves his tongue into Louis’ open mouth teasingly. It's divine the way Harry rolls him onto his back and puts all of him between Louis legs, which part on their own accord. Harry’s chest moves over Louis, and Louis hasn't experienced the heat that sparks in his entire body before. He arches into Harry's arms and holds his hands, gripping Harry’s hair. And Louis falls apart.
--*--
“Do you know what I smell like?” Louis asks sleepily. It's a late hour on a Saturday night and they are in Harry’s bed. Harry nods, a smile teasing on his lips, his dimples are all out. He giggles against Louis’s lips, Louis bites him lazily. Harry's eyes move all over his face. “You are the feistiest omega, do you know that?” Harry says before kissing him.
“Am I?” Louis asks, kissing him back and not budging from his line of questions.
“And the smartest.” Harry kisses his collar bones. He wants to know what he smells like. If he gets to scent Harry and knows him inside out, it is only fair to know if Harry likes his scent or at least is comfortable with it.
He leans forward into Harry’s space, tilting his neck to the side. Harry licks his throat in a stripe.
“Styles.” Louis grabs him by the neck and brings him eye-to-eye. Harry’s eyes drink him in. He will never get used to how Harry handles him, teases him, praises him, loves him, and takes care of him. The things Harry does for Louis are countless. Except he won't answer his question. He whines into Harry’s hair, letting him go.
“You smell like a sunny afternoon,” Harry tells him. “Butter and rosemary, yes. But sweet like honeysuckles, too. A meadow, full of nectar.” Putting his arms around him, Harry brings him closer to his neck. “You smell of pine cones, denser, dark when you want me to make a mess of you, rich woods when you can't get enough. Your tantrums are the fires of redwoods and your laughter is of the daffodils. You smell of spices when you are angry, and smell the most delicious when you are angry and horny.” He nips at Louis’ neck and moves over him, against him, bringing out a moan that breaks on the verge of a whine.
Louis hums. He likes this description of his scent better than Rosie’s rosemary roasted in butter. He smiles to himself, falling asleep in the next second, surrounded by the smell of trees.
--*--
“Quite the poet Styles.” Louis kisses him.
“Quiet the muse, Tomlinson.” Harry kisses him back just as fervently.