Work Text:
Harry was lying on his back, staring up at the flat ceiling of his dorm room with his arm behind his head and his earphones in his ears. Funny thing was, no music was playing. Funny thing was, no amount of music could drown out his thoughts or the sound of his roommate fucking a girl in the next room.
He should be happy. He knows he should. He's nineteen, he's in the University and program he's wanted to be in since he was a kid, he's smart, he's good-looking (so they say) plus he has a few good friends who care about him, although he'd rather be alone then go to a party with them all. He's at the peak of his life and he could care less if he was here or not.
He doesn't even bother to tell his roommate, Niall, that he's going out. He simply puts on his hoodie, fixing his hair inside the hood, and leaves his phone on his bed before closing the door quietly behind him as he hears a shriek come from Niall's room. Harry thinks he’s going to die alone.
He wanders off down the hall, up the stairwell, until he comes to a ladder nailed to the wall, and climbs up. He undoes the latch on the small trapdoor before flinging it open and hauling himself onto the roof. Only a few of the dorms have a roof garden, and he was lucky enough to have one in his. He hated walking around campus when the sun is going down, mostly because it was too quiet for him and the sound of his breathing and his shoes scuffing against the ground is never enough to silence his thoughts.
His mind is on a constant drive, and the only time he can get away from it is if he sleeps, and he diagnosed himself with insomnia a very long time ago. Somehow, sitting on a cold metal bench surrounded by wilted flowers with wet gravel under his feet calms him. Its also the perfect view to watch the sun set and rise in the morning when he knows he won't be able to sleep, and just watches the stars move within the constellations, his legs dangling off the edge of the bench with his hands behind his head, until he sees the darkness start to glow, and the sun rises again. The sky so dark, the stars look like you could just reach out and touch them.
He'd sit on the bench all day if he could. It is the only peaceful thing he's got to hold onto. With three classes a day and tons of videos to watch and notes to write for homework, he can get away once in a while, and just lie there and not care.
One time, he accidentally fell asleep on the bench, and Niall had to come find him and wake him up. He had already missed two of his classes and his face was slightly burnt since it was half noon. His back hurt for the next week but he felt like it was the best sleep he'd had in years.
As he sits on the bench, reminiscing about the few random places he's found himself waking up in, until he hears a loud creaking noise, and turns to see the trap door flinging open. He almost stands up, expecting to see Niall there coming to fetch him and tell him the girl is gone, but stops when he sees two small hands curl into the gravel, the person pulling his/her body up onto the roof.
Harry takes it in that it’s a his, and he’s small, and pale and he seems too young to be in college. He watches as the boy with long hair closes the trap door and wipes his hands on his pants before wrapping his arms around himself, eyes kept staring at the ground as he walks towards the bench. He doesn't look up once until he spots Harry sitting there, and the second he snaps his head up, Harry turns away quickly as the sun just peaks over the top of the science building in the distance.
Harry scoots over to one side of the bench, trying his best to not look out of the corner of his eye as he hears the gravel crunch and the bench move backwards a little as the boy sits next to him.
"I didn't know anyone else came up here." Harry says after a few moments, sitting up a little straighter and criss crossing his feet.
The boy hums a bit in agreement, easing back into the chair, but he's still staring down at the ground, and Harry knows he himself is shy, but he can't believe how shy this boy seems to be, his arms tightly around himself with his legs straight but knees bent.
The sun is now just a distant glow and the darkness is starting to take over, but this is Harry's favorite part. He points out some of the constellations in his head, trying to focus on the pattern of Orion, but his mind has been back in full motion ever since the boy appeared on the roof.
Harry tilts his head back, staring blankly at the stars.
"So uh, why are you up here?" The boy's voice is quiet, and Harry wouldn't have been able to hear it if his mind didn't suddenly focus on the boy's voice, as if it was the only thing to be heard. Harry almost feels like this boy's voice was music. Music to drown out his thoughts and lull him to sleep when he just can't, and he looks over at him, his mouth agape slightly, and even though its dark, he could see the pink in the boy's cheeks and the blue and green colour of his eyes and Harry think he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Better then the stars and the constellations, Harry wants to connect the dots on the freckles on his cheeks and match the colour of his eyes to a paint and paint his walls with it, paint everything the colour of his eyes. He wants to write a book about the curve of his lips or his cheekbones.
"Its quiet." Is what Harry says after a few moments, and the boy nods once in agreement, a little bit of his golden hair falling in front of his eyes.
"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm up here?" He says, the corners of his lips turned up a little. He's shaking his leg, and his fingers are tapping against the seat.
"Why are you up here?" Harry almost says mockingly, but the boy just shrugs.
"I hate my roommate." He sighs with a long sigh, tilting his head back, mirroring Harry and putting his hands in his coat pockets.
"I don't mind mine, except the walls are too thin for my liking."
"You some kind of bachelor?"
"My roommate is."
Then its quiet again, and Harry watches as the sky moves, but his eyes also keep flicking over to the boy, who's breath can be seen since its cold out. He sees the boy look over at him through the corners of his eyes, and Harry can swear the stars are in his eyes and Harry wants to just stare at them. But then the boy looks back up the sky and lets out a loud sigh, almost like a muffled whine.
"How often do you come up here?"
"Almost every night."
"Me too."
"Then how is it possible we're just meeting now?"
The boy shrugs before answering, "Fate?"
"You think we met on some kind of destiny? Some kind of supernatural power? The idea of soul mates?" Harry says, and the boy’s eyes fill with laughter before replying.
"Don't get all wordy on me; and yes, possibly. Worlds collide and all that."
Harry just smiles at him, a bit crookedly since his mindset isn't the best right now. The boy starts laughing a bit, and Harry wants to record it. Set it as his ringtone. Listen to it when he can’t fall asleep. Constant replay.
"You a philosophy major?" He asks, and Harry watches his Adam's apple on his neck move.
"What makes you think that?"
"You just seem…Philosophical?" He says, wincing a bit at his own words, and Harry just gives him a quizzical look, which makes the boy laugh and roll his eyes, "God, I'm such an idiot."
"No no, I am. Well, kind of. Science more. But, philosophy yes. I am philosophical." Harry says, not even sure if he sounds sane at the moment, "You?"
"What do you peg me as?"
"Hmm, maybe business? Maybe you're getting a doctorate degree?"
"Drama and dancing, a little music too.”
"I'm in the presence of an up and coming actor?"
"I wouldn't call me that, I'm a horrible actor, I can't play a single instrument, and I don't have blessed vocal chords, I'm average." He shrugs, frowning a bit, “Plus I’ve got no rhythm.”
"Promise me, when you write a book about your life for your billions of fans, you'll write about me?" Harry says, biting his bottom lip as his lips tug up into a smile, the boy shaking his hair into his eyes before laughing a little.
"What’s your name, anyways?" The boy asks, a light in his eyes.
"Guess."
"Give me a letter."
"H."
"H? What names start with H? Ugh...Geez...Henry?"
"No." Harry smiles.
"Ok, I'm gonna give you a list, stop me if I get it, ok?" He says, and Harry nods eagerly. The boy takes a small breath before starting, "Harvey, Haden, Hector, Heath, Howard, Henry, Herbert, Hugh, Herman, Hershel, Hugo, Hunter, Harold- have I still not got it?"
"Its very close to Harold."
"Harris?" He says almost with hesitation, "Erm…Harry?"
"Ding ding!"
"You are such a dork, Harry." Harry thinks his name sounds so easy coming out of his mouth. Like smooth chocolate. Like it was meant to be. Harry really was hoping he wasn't asleep on the bench and dreaming.
"So am I going to have to guess your name now?"
"Do you want to?"
"No." He replies instantly, "But if you want me to-"
"Louis." He holds out his hand, and Harry shakes it, holding on a second longer then he should. The way Louis' eyes sparkle put all the stars to shame. They're both looking back at the sky now, and Harry notices Louis shivering, and he has an urge to open his coat and cuddle up against him.
"You know when you look up into the sky, we're actually looking up, or technically down, into space? If there was no gravity we'd be flying everywhere."
"Does space ever end?"
Harry shrugs, "Maybe? It’s kind of like saying ‘where does the sidewalk end’. But hopefully it does end, so if gravity ever decided to switch off we wouldn't be floating for too long, you know?"
"Sure."
“We’re just a tiny speck in this one galaxy, not even visible. One galaxy, and there are billions of others...Isn't it amazing?" Harry says a bit too excitedly. He regrets his next move instantly, which was scooting closer to Louis and putting his head on his shoulder. It happened so fast and once he realized what he's done his smile dropped instantly, and he seemed to have stopped breathing.
"You don't have to do this, you know." Louis says quietly, and Harry takes that as a chance to move quickly, and instead just be sitting almost shoulder to shoulder. Harry looks down to the gravel, before Louis' words start to replay in his mind.
"Do what?"
"Talk to me."
"Why wouldn't I-"
"Seriously. Just, please stop." He bit his lip, closing his eyes and waiting for Harry to leave, or at least look away.
"Why wouldn't I want to talk to you?" Harry says, finishing what he was going to say before. Looking back up into the sky, or down into space, Louis lets out a small huff.
"'Cause I'm a loser, nobody talks to me. Nobody likes me, and I don't like when people talk to me out of pity." He says all matter-of-factly.
"I'm not talking to you out of pity."
“Sure.” He says sarcastically and laughs, but its cut short when he feels a hand grab his. Harry had linked their fingers together, and Louis’ hand was really cold. Louis slowly looked down to their clammy hands entangled, resting on the metal bench. His leg started shaking again, Harry thinks maybe he does that when he’s nervous. Harry does a lot of things when he’s nervous. Sometimes he’ll brag about video game scores. It’s a little, a lot, embarrassing to Harry when he blurts out his rank on an online war game to someone he’s just met.
“I like you.” Harry says out loud, even though he didn’t mean to. Louis looks at him out of the corner of his eye, almost as if he’s trying not to stare at Harry.
“You don’t mean that. You don’t know me.”
“I could get to know you.”
“You don’t want to do that.”
“You going to try and stop me, then? Tell me to leave and I will.” Harry says, trying not to smile but failing miserably. Louis looked at him for a few moments, looking at the smile lines and bags under his eyes. Looking at his eyes, and his dimple, and his curly hair.
“Please leave.” Louis almost hesitates to say it, and seeing the hopeful look in Harry’s eyes fade made him feel like an asshole. Harry nods, taking his hand away from Louis’ and standing from the bench. Louis watches as he walks foreword, not even walking back to the trapdoor to go back into the dorms. Louis wonders for a moment what exactly he’s doing, but then Harry steps up onto the ledge of the roof, just off the side of the building, and Louis’ eyes almost pop out of his skull.
“Are you psychotic!?” Louis yells as he stands from the bench, but Harry looks over his shoulder at him, a smile on his face, and his arms spread out like some bird.
“You told me to leave.”
“So you’re just going to jump off the building?”
“Well, I don’t want to jump off the building, but you want me to leave so..” Harry drags on the ‘o’ as he lifts one leg, and Louis almost screams.
“Harry just...just come down, yeah?” Louis holds out his hand to Harry, and Harry thinks back to the moment on Titanic when Rose is about to jump to her death and Jack holds his hand out to her and tells her to come back. But his life is not a movie. If anything its close to a nightmare.
“Look at the stars!” Harry suddenly sings, well more like screams, and Louis is frozen, “Look how they shine for you!” Harry starts walking along the edge, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and Louis briefly thinks maybe he’s being punked, looking around the rooftop to try and see any hidden cameras. Maybe he’s just spontaneous, Louis thinks, and then he shakes his head a bit. He is definitely being punked.
“And everything you do! Yeah, they were all ye- whoa!” Harry takes another step, miscalculating by a centimeter, his foot slipping off the side. Louis grabs for the back of his hoodie and pulls him back, even though he was going to be falling onto the roof, but some kind of instinct kicked in and he had Harry pinned down on the gravel in less then a few seconds.
“You know, I think you are the most idiotic person I’ve ever met! You could’ve just gotten yourself killed!” Harry wasn’t even breathing. His arms were being held down above his head, Louis was practically sitting on his chest, and Harry had come to the conclusion that the colors of Louis’ eyes were otherworldly, “Are you even listening? Dammit Harry you had my heart going a mile a minute and you aren’t even listening!” Harry grinned, but Louis just kept yelling, “And why do you keep staring at me!? You’re making me really self-conscious!” Louis’ hands moved to the collar of Harry’s coat.
Louis is breathing rapidly, his eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth forming a pout, but Harry just adores it. He wants to take a picture and have it be on a building somewhere in Times Square. Harry’s never been to New York, he’s never been anywhere, but he wants to go everywhere with Louis. He wants to travel out of this world with Louis. He wants to go to the moon just to trace Louis’ name in the dust and have it there for all eternity. He wants to do things with Louis. He just wants to be with Louis.
“You’re pretty idiotic too, if we’re being honest.” Louis looks a bit taken aback at Harry’s reply, but his hands loosen on his collar and he sits up a little straighter.
“How?”
“To think no one wants to talk to you, to think I don’t want to talk to you.” He says, emphasizing the ‘I’.
“Its...That’s just how its always been.” Louis’ shoulders slump down a bit, moving his hands across Harry’s shoulder, “I’m use to it.”
Harry nods thoughtfully, “Well, things change, you know? For the better and all that.”
“Are you my better?”
“Maybe even your best.”
Louis’ lips turn up a bit at the ends. Harry sits up a little.
“Well unfortunately, the clock is ticking.” Louis starts to sit up but Harry grabs his waist and Louis freezes.
“Don’t leave yet.” Harry whispers, and Louis’ breath is shallow as he slowly sits back down on Harry’s thighs. Harry can’t help how emotionally, and physically, he feels towards Louis. He’s drawn towards him and so entranced with the stars blinking back at him in his eyes that he just-
“I like you.”
“Feelings are temporary.”
“But actions aren’t, right?”
Harry surges foreword, pressing his lips against Louis’, and it takes a few seconds before Louis is pushing back against Harry’s. It’s more like a peck then anything, but Harry feels like his whole world just came together because the taste of Louis’ lips are still on his and the warmth of Louis’ breath is mixed with his and all he wants to do is kiss him again.
“Why’d you do that?”
Harry just shakes his head, feeling suddenly possessive, and Louis’ eyes burn into his and he leans his forehead against Harry’s, fluttering his eyelashes against Harry’s. Louis nods a little, and then Harry brushes his nose softly against Louis’ and cocking his head to the right a little to get the perfect angle to kiss him again.
“You know Jupiter has four moons?” Harry mutters against Louis’ lips, “Calisto, Io, Ganymede, and Europa.” That’s another thing he does when he’s nervous. Space facts.
Louis wants to say something to Harry along the lines of “Shut up and kiss me.” But his mind is blank and he’s more nervous and exposed then he’s ever felt, and all he can mutter is, “I like your eyes.”
“Yours are nicer.”
“Impossible.”
“I am serious.” Louis has an undeniable blush on his cheeks again, completely flushed and it spreads down his neck. “Other then drama and music, what do you do?”
“Comics. I love comics.”
“I’ve got the biggest comic collection.”
“Who’s your favorite?”
Harry ponders for a few seconds, “Who’s yours?”
“Probably Iron Man.”
“Marvel comics?”
“Stan Lee is my king.”
“Well I hate to admit it, but I’m more of a Green Lantern man...DC Comics.”
“What a disappointment.” Louis says before they both start laughing, and Louis’ small hands curl into the back of Harry’s sweater, and the tips of his fingers are cold. Harry touches his nose to Louis’, and that’s cold too. It sends a shock through his system and his stomach is twisting and his eyelids feel a little heavy.
“You are crazy, though.”
“I’m out of my mind.” Harry whispers and Louis kisses him, and part of him feels like he’s never kissed anyone else. He really hasn’t, only two people, and one is Harry. Harry brings one hand to hold the back of Louis’ neck, his other hand on Louis’ hip. Harry massages his thumb into Louis’ side, Louis’ mouth opening suddenly, a small noise coming from his throat, and his eyes shoot open, the corners of his eyes red and his neck feels warm.
“What was that?” Harry asks, and Louis shrugs, but its hesitant, Louis knows exactly what it is. People have sensitive spots on them, some have sensitive spots on their necks, and Louis has them on his right hip. Harry makes Louis lie down on his back, climbing over him, and this angle shows off his cheekbones that could cut through glass if he tried. Louis watches as Harry stares down at him, giving him a small peck on the lips, making it longer then it has to be, before moving down and lifting Louis’ shirt. Louis panics a little, lifting his head to watch as Harry places a small kiss on his right hip, before biting down on the skin, and Louis drops his head back a little dramatically, his eyes drooping and Harry stops, placing another kiss there. Louis’ breath skips and he opens his eyes to find Harry’s vertically across from him.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Why not?”
“So what now?” Louis asks, his hands above his head, and he looks from Harry’s eyes to his lips to the inside of his shirt, which is hanging low. Harry follows Louis’ eyes, and then laughs, Louis laughing along.
“What I say we do right now, is go back to my dorm. Warm up. Your lips are almost purple from how cold they are. ”
Louis almost chokes on his own words as he says a simple, “Okay,” and Harry’s standing quickly, holding his hands out for Louis. Louis can see the stars, and they are shining so bright, and Harry’s a star, definitely, standing tall with rosy cheeks and bright eyes. Louis thinks maybe he’s gotten a little lucky. He grabs Harry’s hands, Harry pulling him up easily before they rush towards the trapdoor, jumping down quickly. Louis shivers, and Harry makes Louis stand on his left, his hand on Louis’ right hip. Louis feels Harry’s cold fingertips underneath his shirt, circling the small indent his teeth left on his side, and Louis can almost feel the same feeling he felt when Harry bit him, and its making Louis all the more excited, and nervous, definitely nervous, to be entering Harry’s dorm.
There is a girl sitting on the couch, and Harry ignores her, but she stares at Louis, and then there is a blond guy walking out of the small kitchen, which consisted of a coffee maker, a microwave, and a mini fridge, takeaway boxes stacked on top of the fridge. He stares at Louis too, and Harry ignores him. Harry closes the door to his room, its even smaller then the kitchen. There is a small bed, with large pillows and a quilt, and Louis can almost imagine Harry sleeping on it with his feet dangling over the edge.
Then there is a desk, squished up against a small window, the desktop littered with books and pens and there is even a few articles of clothing hanging of the sides, piled on the chair.
“Should’ve cleaned before, sorry.” Harry throws his jacket to the side, starting to take off his shoes and Louis does the same, kicking them in the same corner Harry kicks his.
“You didn’t know you’d be meeting me, so don’t be sorry.” Louis says, and watches Harry step over another pile of clothing before collapsing back on the bed, and just as Louis imagined, Harry’s feet dangled over the edge, and so did his calves. Louis thinks maybe Harry sleeps all cuddled up against himself, trying to be small.
“I’m not.” Harry says, and then he pats the spot next to him, and Louis hops over the small bag before sitting on the bed. Harry’s arm comes around to pull Louis down beside him, and Louis doesn’t hesitate this time, resting his head on Harry’s chest and draping his arm around his lower stomach.
They lay there for a while, in the darkness and Louis is enjoying the quietness, no matter how eerie. Harry has little glowing stars stuck to his ceiling, and Louis can’t seem to really just sit still. Harry’s fingers are slowly dragging across the teeth marks, and the excitement Louis felt was really just nervousness. Louis thinks about what is going to happen tomorrow, when they wake up, and the daylight is flooding through the window and its water damaged sill, if Harry will still be obsessing over the stars and moons and if he will still look at Louis with wide eyes as he hangs onto his every word. Louis wishes Harry knew him before, when he was younger, before he started getting bullied for the few things he can’t change.
His world had no worries then, and he wants to go back, but even if he had the chance he wouldn’t. He’d be lying to himself if he says he misses the days where he was always hidden from everyone, even though he still is, technically. He’d also be lying to himself if he couldn’t admit that he never had bad thoughts about himself, that the words said to him didn’t sting, that he didn’t take a shower in the communal showers late, late at night, because the last thing he wanted was for someone to see him naked.
He didn’t even want to see himself naked, he despised his body. He loved the things he could do with it, like run. Running was a great feat his body had. Louis liked using ‘running’ as a verb. Running from responsibilities, problems, family, friends, himself.
Louis’ heartbeat speeds up a little, and Harry feels it, but he doesn’t say anything. Louis takes a deep breath, and doesn’t exhale, completely still for a few moments. Harry can feel Louis’ heartbeat slowing down again, and Louis fingers tighten on Harry’s shirt. Harry looks to Louis out of the corner of his eyes, Louis’ eyes are watery and Harry wants to know why. Harry doesn’t ask just yet, he stares at Louis for a moment longer, imaging a few years from now. And he doesn’t know why he pictures it like a home video, but its Christmas, and Louis’ sitting beside a small dinky tree, wearing glasses and one of Harry’s jumpers. He’s small and fragile and he’s got a huge grin on his face, and he’s holding a book. Some kind of biography, and Louis’ name is on the cover. Then he pictures Louis saying, “Remember that promise you made me make when I met you to put you in my book? Well I’ve got a few chapters just about you and your stars, Harry.” And he’s flipping through the pages, balancing a cup of cocoa between his thighs as he sits on the couch, which is new and still wrapped in plastic. Better to keep it on, Harry thinks, Louis will probably end up spilling his cocoa.
“You are smiling like such an idiot right now.” Louis says. Reality Louis, and Harry turns his head to look at him. Louis’ eyes aren’t watery anymore, and the edges of his lips are turned upwards, his eyes crinkled a bit at the sides, and Harry kisses him again. Louis shivers; Harry’s arm pulling him more into his chest then before, and Louis can feel in his bones that Harry is ok. So he climbs over Harry, Harry’s ends cupping his cheeks as Louis’ leg falls between Harry’s thigh, and Harry takes one hand off Louis’ cold cheek to grab Louis’ leg. Maybe grab is not the nicest word, more like touch his leg, the tips of his fingers are still cold, and Harry thinks they haven’t done the best job warming up yet.
Harry thinks back to his imagination he had, thinking that he didn’t want to keep Louis in the past. When he’s twenty-three he doesn’t want to accidently bump into him at a grocery store, then talk about things over wine at Harry’s mold-infested apartment, which Louis will compliment nonetheless even though there is a mice infestation and Harry doesn’t have any spare money to pay for someone to get rid of it. But Louis will eventually leave again, being something in the past, because things in the past stay in the past, they don’t spontaneously come back.
So Harry lets his hand wander up and down Louis’ leg until he’s got it cupped around his waist, his fingers slowly going underneath the waistband of his jeans, and Louis doesn’t notice until Harry starts to let his hand go underneath his underwear as well, but Louis is still to caught up in the fact that Harry’s tongue is sliding against his. Except he jumps back when Harry’s hand cups his bum, gasping and flying his eyes open to look at Harry.
“I’m sorry.” Harry says instantly, removing his hand quickly from his jeans and letting it hang off the side of the bed.
“It’s ok.” Louis says, “You wouldn’t be the first though.”
“First what?”
“First person to grab my arse.” Louis says, and then he laughs, and the eerie silence is filled with Louis and Harry’s mixed laughter. Then Louis stops, his breath catching in his throat as he sits up on Harry’s thighs, and Harry waits for Louis to say something.
“You can touch me if you want.” Louis says softly, and Harry looks him up and down slowly. It’s different then any other time they’ve been with someone, boy or girl. There is just so much more lust in their eyes and passion in their kisses when they are merely just strangers to each other. Louis first time with a boy was excruciating, mostly because he just wanted to get it over with, but also because the boy refused to kiss him. Harry’s first was the opposite, and they almost didn’t even have sex because their kisses got lazier, but it happened, and now Harry is looking at Louis and Louis is staring at Harry and waiting, because Harry wants to kiss Louis and Harry wants to be with him, inside him, around him.
Louis shivers as Harry’s hand moves under his shirt, and Louis lifts his hands above his head and Harry sits up to take it off. Louis closes his eyes, but Harry doesn’t do anything. Harry just stares at his chest, and his torso, and he’s having a hard time trying to focus on just one part of Louis. Harry smoothed his hands up Louis’ torso, and Louis let out a small breath that could have almost been mistaken for a moan. Harry slows his movements a little, feeling the ridges of Louis’ ribs as Louis breaths deep in and out, and the erratic beat of his heart under his fingertips.
Louis is telling himself to stop; stop worrying, stop overthinking. But most of all, there is something screaming inside of him to stop letting Harry touch him. He’s ugly and soft and Harry thinks otherwise but Louis doesn’t know that. He doesn’t even know how his brain even comprehends what is happening, he can’t process the amount of feelings he is having at this moment. He can’t open his eyes because if he does he knows Harry will be staring and the lust in his eyes will be gone.
“Open your eyes,” Harry murmurs, and Louis refuses to, “Please.” Louis opens his eyes, blinking a few times to find Harry slack jawed with bright eyes that are fixed on Louis and Louis thinks his brain is playing tricks on him because there is more lust in Harry’s eyes then there was before. Harry leans foreword, Louis’ body unthinkingly moves foreword, Harry’s lips are warm on his skin and he can feel the words being spoken as Harry says, “You’re so beautiful.”
Louis doesn’t even let Harry take another chance to move away or say something else because he kisses Harry. Harry takes a few seconds to kiss back and when he does, their tongues slide alongside each other again and Harry wraps his arm tightly around Louis’ back, pulling him in closer to him until their chest to chest, their noses squished against each other as they both try to get a better angle to kiss each other. Harry lies back on his back again, and Louis can feel Harry’s hand going down this time, and Louis’ thigh is still between Harry’s legs and he can feel how hard he is just by the simple movement of his knee, which Harry makes a low sound in his throat to.
Harry’s hand goes to the front of his jeans this time, and unzips them before getting a hand on the hem of the jeans, starting to pull them down off his thighs. Louis takes a moment to stop kissing him, to catch his breath, his forehead rested on Harry’s as both their eyes open to lock onto one another for a few moments before both starting to undress each other hastily. Once Harry’s got Louis jeans in a pile of all his other discarded clothing, Louis pulls on Harry’s shirt and it too is discarded. Harry lies back and watches as Louis undoes the buttons on his jeans, struggling a little to get the belt out of the loop and throwing it to the floor. Louis pulls the jeans down Harry’s legs, and Harry could almost come undone at the sight of Louis’ tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrates to get them off.
Then once they are on the floor, Louis stops to look at Harry, his eyes fixated on the bulge under his boxers and Harry leans foreword to catch Louis’ eyes in his again, and once he does, he smiles.
“Did you want to? Like, you know?” Harry says sheepishly, and Louis’ got his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth in a quirked little pout, and Harry leans foreword even more, stretching his back as he kissed the pout on his lips away, and Louis crawled foreword to lie back on top of Harry, the only sound filling the quietness of the room was the rustling of sheets and the small little breaths each of them took before re-attaching their lips, barely sparring a moment to discard their boxers until their bare, chest to chest, and Harry’s hand on the small of Louis’ back.
“What now?” Louis whispers as Harry kisses his neck, his eyes closed and his jaw slacked and his face is contorted in pure bliss. And then a thought crosses Harry’s mind, his lips breathing hot air onto Louis’ neck, and Louis’ heart is beating slowly, how do you know when you’ve found your soul mate?
Fate is an odd word. Harry lets his mind wander for a second, opening up a metaphorical dictionary and looking it up. Destined to happen; supernatural forces bringing two beings together; beyond their control. Harry thinks of it more as luck, a chance to have something or someone in your life. Harry also thinks of it as karma, but Harry hasn’t done anything bad recently, and Louis good, so it cannot be karma coming to kick him in the arse, can it? No, it can’t be, it won’t be. Louis can only be described as a star among many others, shining brighter, but doesn’t notice. Louis doesn’t notice how much brighter he is then all the other randoms, he is a diamond in the rough, if we’re bringing metaphors into this. A light in the darkness.
“Harry,” Louis’ voice brings Harry out of his seemingly unconscious state, and Harry opens his eyes to look at him, the blue in Louis’ eyes are almost electric, sparking and igniting everything inside of Harry. And suddenly, everything melts away, and its just Louis. There isn’t any Niall or any assignments or laundry to be done, its Louis. Louis and his freckles on his nose and the small scar on his shoulder, which Harry will try to remember to ask him about later. It’s his blue eyes and his fingertips dancing across Harry’s skin and he feels like a furnace.
Harry places his hand on the side of Louis’ cheek, his thumb reaching to touch just under Louis’ bottom lip, before touching his lips slowly to Louis’, and things continue to melt away. Professors and parents and siblings and everything Harry’s ever known, its now just Louis.
Harry reaches over to his bedside table, opening the drawer to grab the lube he keeps in there, all while staring at Louis, and Louis tries to look away, he can feel his cheeks redden, but they’re mesmerized.
Its quiet again, the only sound is Louis’ breathing, which heightens in Harry’s ears as he slowly opens him up. Louis is lying on his chest, and Harry is hovering above him, kissing up his spine and Louis meets him halfway, kissing lazily. He holds Louis’ back flush against his chest as he slowly enters inside of him, Louis’ breathing stopping completely, but once Harry is fully inside, and not moving, Louis lets out a sigh, and he takes a few moments before lifting his head to fit into the crook of Harry’s neck.
“You can move now.” Louis whispers, and Harry wants to listen to the words slowly roll of Louis’ tongue all day. But instead, he starts moving, and the faster he goes, Louis’ head drops. Harry lets go of Louis torso, and instead holds his hips softly, watching as Louis’ hands grip the sheets and he can see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He finds Louis’ prostate a few moments later, Louis half screaming into the mattress, but its muffled and half-hearted only because he’s pretty much already spent.
When Harry collapses on Louis, their sweaty bodies intertwined, and Harry feels so, so high. He feels like he could fly, he can feel Louis kissing his forehead, and his eyes are blinking, but his body is numb, his body feels limp, and he’s looking at Louis and he is the only thing Harry can feel. But then Louis is gone, the spot beside him feels cold, and the lights flashing behind his eyelids slowly disappear. The room gets darker.
“Lou?” Harry says, and his voice cracks. He feels the mattress dip, and then a cold wet fabric on his forehead. As his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, he sees Louis looking over him, dabbing his head with a cloth.
“I’m here Harry, not gonna leave you.”
Harry comes back to consciousness about five or so minutes later, and he sits up. He has a pair of sweatpants on and his body doesn’t feel like its overheating any longer. He sees the light flooding through underneath his door, and he slowly gets to his feet, but just as he does, the door opens, and in comes Louis with a steaming cup of coffee. Its one of Niall’s cinnamon vanilla coffee’s, the scent is strong enough to fill up Harry’s whole room. Louis smiles at him and closes the door behind him sitting beside Harry on the bed. Harry notices his room is cleaned up, and he wonders how long he’s actually been out.
“You feeling okay?” Louis places the cup on Harry nightstand, and Harry doesn’t even care that there isn’t a coaster to keep it from making a ring on the wood.
“I’m amazing.” Harry says, his eyes tired and Louis smiles again. Harry notices Louis is wearing one of Harry’s pair of sweatpants, and one of his sweaters.
“Look, Harry, I um,” Louis has his fingers between his thighs, and he bites his lip as he tries to find the words, meanwhile Harry can feel himself getting warm again, thinking maybe he has done something bad recently and Louis is just karma.
“It’s okay if you want to leave.” Harry says before Louis can continue, and Louis’ eyes overlook Harry’s. Louis face is expressionless in the dark, although Harry doesn’t even really want to see the pity on Louis’ face.
“Why would you think I’d want to go?” Louis asks, “Harry we just had sex. I’m not going to leave. Why would you think that?” Harry can feel the confusion and sadness in Louis’ voice, and now he pities himself.
“I’m sorry.”
“I like you, Harry, a lot. And I don’t know if you forgot that I told you that I absolutely despise my roommate, so I’m in no rush. Besides I haven’t really got any place to go since my knob head roommate threw my mattress out the window.” Louis laughs a little, and it’s a sad, and Harry just wants to hold him in his arms forever.
Harry just let his eyes gaze into Louis’ for a moment, and Louis’ eyes trailed down to his lips, leaning foreword to kiss him. Harry was engulfed by the touch, scent, taste, and sound of Louis. Harry could describe it as enchanting; as delightful; charming; hypnotizing. Harry’s hands are ghosting over Louis’ hips and Louis small hands are on Harry’s neck his fingers sprawled across his cheeks and tangled in his hair.
Harry briefly thinks into the future again; back to the thought on Christmas morning. Louis is reading his book to Harry, a happy smile on his face and in his eyes. Then they’re kissing, Louis being a little resistant as Harry holds his face close to his, “I’m not even at your part yet!” but Harry will ignore him and the kiss will be described exactly the same: enchanting, delightful, charming, hypnotizing.
“I still want to know you.” Harry whispers it against Louis’ lips.
“I don’t know.” Louis whispers it back even quieter, and Harry shakes his head a little against Louis’ forehead.
“You said it yourself; you have nowhere else to go. Stay, and let me know you.”
It doesn’t take anymore convincing then another kiss, and then Louis is lying on his back, Harry on his side and propped up on his elbow to stare down at him as Louis starts to tell him things; his coffee forgotten on the nightstand. Louis has four sisters; two out of the four are twins. His parents got divorced when he was younger, and his mother is engaged now, and Louis has only met his soon to be step-dad a few times, but he is okay. Louis loves to dance. He has danced since he was a kid, bullied most of his life because he wasn’t into sports like the other kids.
He’d dance and sing and dress up with his sisters. He loved cooking but hated cleaning. His favorite color is red. When he figured out that he was into boys instead of girls, he couldn’t really deal with it, since he already had enough of bullying and telling people he was gay was for sure to make it worse. So he put it off, and stopped dancing and singing and tried to get into sports. He was on his high school football team, even though he was just a benchwarmer every game. He got a girlfriend, but Louis broke up with her once he saw her brother.
Her brother was Louis’ first, and he never kissed Louis, and he hurt Louis a lot. Louis moved away from home to go to University because he wanted to get away from everyone, except his family of course. Then once he got here, he started to take up dancing and singing again, and his roommate wasn’t really ok with the ‘gay thing’. He found the rooftop garden a few weeks ago, and hadn’t been up there since.
Harry asks why he went up there then, and Louis gets a little quieter.
“Stress. It’s too much. Mixed in with the feeling of not knowing if you even want to see the sun rise again; it’s just so hard.”
“What was on your mind when you went up there?” Harry asks a little cautiously, although he's got a feeling that he knows what Louis is already going to say.
“Well first I just wanted to get some air, clear my head, maybe scream a little. Then I started thinking about how it’d just be easier if it were over, you know? No more stress, no more waiting for the sun to come up to have to guilt me into living another day.”
“Louis-”
“Then you were there all of a sudden. You talked to me. You made me feel something. You sent shivers down my spine and you got me to feel something again other then just stress and hate and disgust. My blood was pumping in my ears when you touched my hand and then- then I told you to go because I remembered why I first came up there. But you didn’t just leave like I asked you to, you stayed. You had me breathing hard and my bones aching from just looking at you.” He says, and Harry’s quiet, so he continues, “Then you kissed me. And I thought about how stupid I was for thinking nobody would care, cause you cared. I was broken and a fucking stranger cared more about me then my own mother…You know I’m not a big believer in fate but-”
“Louis I think I’m in love with you.” Harry says, and Louis stops, “And if I’m not then I am definitely falling for you.”
“Ha-”
“Your eyes. They’re indescribable; and your voice. I want to listen to you talk about absolutely anything all day and everyday. Then there is your body,” Harry says, his hand on Louis’ right hip and he grips it a little, Louis’ eyes falling shut for a moment, “which I swear if you don’t think is perfect then maybe you need an eye test.” Harry says, and Louis laughs, blinking a few times. His eyes are watery and there is tears spilling over his eyes, “You are like something out of my imagination. But you are reality and you are lying right here and I’m falling for you.”
Louis sits up just enough to kiss him, and then Harry’s climbing over him, crushing their bodies together.
“My mind never stops. But being with you, I can focus and its only you. You’re like some kind of fire, and its keeping me alive. I’m going to explode into flames.” Harry says and he knows he isn’t even making sense but Louis is looking at him with this look that Harry can’t describe as anything other then wonder, “And I want to be with you everyday, like this. I’ll give you my everything.”
Louis can’t even process it. Somebody wants to be with him. That somebody is Harry, and Louis thinks it’ll never get any better then that.
“You know how you said before that you were my better- my best?”
“Yeah.”
“Well you are; my best.” Louis says and he swallows before saying, “And even if I say I want to be alone doesn’t mean I want you to leave. I want to be alone, but with you, you get it?” Harry nods.
“You know when I was really young, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. So my mom would take me driving, and open the sun roof on her car, and I’d stare at the stars and the half moon and I’d close my eyes. But the moon would always change, you know? Some nights some of the stars wouldn’t be as bright and it’d make me wonder things before I could sleep. Weird little kid things like ‘Are the stars alive’ and ‘Where does the moon go during the daytime’. My mom started to notice how interested I was in astronomy, so she sent me to a summer camp every year. I was going there till I was 16, then I became a camp counselor. I got my first girlfriend at that summer camp-”
“Why you telling me all this?” Louis asks, “And I don’t mean it in a rude way I’m just asking.”
“You told me about your life, do you not want to know about mine?”
Then Louis remembers, and he smiles, and he nods, “Sorry, sometimes I get a bit stupid.”
“We all do.” And Louis smiles even wider, “As an example, at that summer camp, I dated that girl for the whole first month, then they recruited a 19 year old, keep in mind I was only 16 and of course as a young boy I’ve got raging hormones,” Louis laughs, and Harry continues, “Him and I became good friends over the course of 5 days, then we were inseparable. I use to get all these weird feelings when I’d see him in his bathing suit, or when we’d go to the outdoor showers together and he’d wear a towel low on his hips. Then one night, we went to skip rocks on the pond, and I couldn’t do it. So he held my hands in his, and he helped me skip a rock on a pond under the stars and a half moon. Call it cliché or whatever you want to, but after I skipped the rock, I turned to face him and he was smiling and he had a small gap between his teeth but I thought it was perfect. Then I, well we both kind of, just started kissing. It happened so fast and before I knew it we were walking to a restricted area of the pond, and we were taking off each other’s clothing and he was kissing me. That’s when I realized I liked boys. Girls were ok, but boys just knew how to do things, you know? They knew what would get the other person going, and girls would take so long to figure it out. Anyways, I broke up with her, didn’t date him but we went to that restricted area for the rest of the summer. He was my first, and he was gentle. I thought I loved him, turns out I was just stupid and he was with my girlfriend at the same time, so.”
“I’m glad one of us had a good first experience.”
“Yeah but even though it was good, wouldn’t even call it good, first experience, kissing him or any other person is nothing like kissing you. I don’t need the stars or the half moons any more like I thought I did. There are stars in your eyes and they are so, so much prettier. Besides you aren’t exactly a flaming ball of gas so, I take your cold fingers touching my hands as a plus.”
“You just met me, how do you know I’m not a flaming ball of gas?” Louis asks, and perks one eyebrow up, tilting his head to the side and purses his lips. Harry laughs, lacing his and Louis’ fingers together.
“You’re so adorable. Honestly I just-”
“You just?”
“I want to kiss you till you’ve got no more lips to kiss. I want to touch you till there is no more skin to feel. I want to love you till all of your love runs out. I want to be the reason for your smile.”
“Its amazing I woke up this morning wanting to die and now I’m lying here wanting to do nothing but life for all eternity, as long your there.”
“I will be there.” Harry says, nodding his head thousands of times, and Louis brings Harry’s laced hand to his and kisses the back of it, turning on his side to push his back flush against Harry’s chest, holding his arm around him and his hands to his chest.
“I’m falling for you too. Like a meteor, hurdling towards earth, ready to collide.”