Archive of Our Own

Louis’ been waiting for this day, well, basically since the moment he was born.

His 18th birthday.

Finally a fucking grown up. He no longer needs his friends to buy him cigs or booze. He can buy porn (do people still buy porn these days? Either way, it’s something he now can technically do, even if he can find sufficient porn for free online). He’s got his driver’s license, birthday money burning a hole in his pocket, and the best years of his life laying right in front of him.

Being 18 really is the best, right?

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling him for the past year. From what Louis’ gathered in the 10 hours he’s been 18, it definitely seems pretty nice. Possibly, maybe, slightly overrated... But great nonetheless... It’s not like this is his first drink, or even his first time buying a drink. That’s what fake IDs are for. Same for cigs. It’s not like he’s suddenly learned all there is to know about the world or gotten his entire life plan figured out. It’s not like he’s been bestowed some incredible knowledge or truth about being an “adult.” Honestly, it’s a lot more…. average and normal than he would have expected. 

But like, it's great, even if it is not especially all that different from his previous 17 years of life.

Especially compared to presenting as Alpha about a month after turning 17, this feels like no big deal. Yeah, now his first rut was a big deal and definitely life changing. This really doesn’t feel any different than any other day.

Still. It’s a day completely devoted to him. He gets all the attention, and that’s something he’ll never turn down. He’s been getting free drinks, which actually is different and better than normal. And considering that he’s the very last of his friends to turn 18, he can finally really hang out with them without worrying about the police getting called in case a barkeep deducts that his ID is truthfully pretty shoddily made.

All in all, he’s feeling pretty good, the alcohol buzzing through his veins and making his mind feel tingly. They’ve been barhopping for a few hours now, and while Louis’ not quite drunk yet, he’s definitely tipsy.

Although right now, he’s feeling a little more nauseous-tipsy than fun-tipsy from the fact that his friends have blindfolded him as they drive to the final stop of their night out, the lack of sight making each little bump in the road or unexpected turn extra heightened and stomach-churning.

Louis was not a fan of the blindfold idea-- he hates giving up control in any way-- but his friends have been raving about how sick this final stop is, everyone going on and on about the surprise they have planned for him. At this point, they’ve hyped it up so much that they better be bringing him to the fucking moon because anything less doesn’t warrant the excitement they’re displaying.

He grips the upholstery of the seat under his thighs as tightly as he can, trying to minimize the swaying of the car because puking on your 18th birthday is only acceptable if it’s from excessive drinking, not sitting in the backseat of your mate’s ancient car.

Finally the car screeches to a sudden stop, and Louis hears his friends whooping and chattering with excitement as they fling open the doors and hop out of the car. Unsure if he’s meant to follow them blindly or if he’s allowed to take off the blindfold, he waits a second, straining his ears in an attempt to ascertain where they’ve ended up.

Hands grip his biceps and yank him out of he car. A symphony of voices laugh loudly as he stumbles, still unable to see where he’s going, and crashes into one of his friend’s chests. He wants to tell them that this game isn’t cute any longer. He’s never been very patient and he'd very much like to get this situation back in his control, thank you very much.

But then his friends are grabbing him and shoving him forward. He holds his hands out in front of him, trying to keep his balance and avoid bumping into anything. He collides suddenly and unexpectedly with the back of one of his friends-- probably Luke just based on the height-- and has to grip the back of his friend’s shirt to prevent himself from falling over.

Okay, maybe he is slightly more drunk than he had originally allowed for.

“Okay, Louis, you ready?” he hears Calvin slur out, his hot breath surprising Louis at its close proximity to his own face. Yeah, he might be more drunk than he thought but he’s definitely the least drunk of his friends-- other than Stan who’s the designated driver.

“THREE,

TWO,

ONE!” Calvin shouts out, much, much too loudly considering he’s literally right in Louis’ ear. Someone yanks at the blindfold to pull it off, grabbing a fistful of Louis’ hair, too, in the process.

It ends up taking a few moments for drunk fingers to navigate the blindfold off Louis’ head without pulling out all his hair in the process, making Calvin’s excited countdown null.

When the blindfold comes off, Louis has to squint slightly as his eyes-- not used to light after so long blindfolded-- meet a bright, neon sign right before him.

His friends are all whooping and wolf-whistling, jostling Louis around as they clap him on the shoulder and shove him around in their excitement. They clearly think that this whole thing was worth the wait, the anticipation, the suspense. They clearly think they’re real fucking geniuses for this plan of theirs.

Louis’ heart drops slightly, and his face automatically falls into a bit of a pout as he reads the sign in front of him and realizes what this final “wickedly sick” stop on their Louis’-Official-Being-18-Tour-of-Donny actually is.

He really shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, considering his friends have never been the most creative. Their idea of a good prank has always been ceran wrap on a toilet seat, a classic that they think is the most unique, wild, hilarious thing to ever happen.

They brought him to an omega strip club.

Of course.

Louis shakes his head and pastes a smile on his face. It’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with going to a strip club. It should be fun or whatever. And it’s definitely a rite of passage on your 18th birthday. It’s just… after all this build up, he would’ve expected something a little more inspired.

Going to a strip club on your 18th’s birthday is just fairly cliched, and his friends had really made it out to sound like they were about to change Louis’ entire life by this final stop of the night.

Oh well. Louis’ a teenage alpha, he can appreciate the beauty of the omega form. A strip club might be a bit of a let down, but he can still have fun. And get drunk. He can definitely get drunk here.

“Alright, lads,” Oli yells out, clapping Louis a bit harder than necessary on the back and pushing him towards the entrance. “Let’s get Tommo laid!”

His friends all cackle, and Louis chuckles along with them, if only a bit less enthusiastically than the rest of his friends. They all shove him forwards, jostling each other in more and more aggressive displays of masculine alphaness. Someone starts up a chant of “Tommo the tease” as it takes them much much longer to make it through the front doors than it should for a group of only “tipsy” boys.

As they push through the entrance, Louis’ struck by the overwhelmingly intoxicating smell of the strip joint. Even through his slightly alcohol-dulled senses, he can’t deny the wave of arousal that courses through his veins at the scent of so many young, fit omegas.

Maybe a strip club wasn’t the worst idea his friends have ever had.

His friends are so busy jostling him around and clapping him on the back in celebration of how much omega pussy he’s gonna get tonight (Louis’ pretty damn sure that’s not how a strip club works at all, but he’ll just let his friends dream about his future sex conquests without shattering their hopes. It’ll be his personal birthday present to them) that he ends up being the last person in line to get carded by the bouncer.

As his other friends head into the strip club, he steps towards the bouncer, fumbling through his wallet to find his ID. He’s so distracted by his search that he hasn’t gotten a proper look at the alpha checking IDs until he’s standing right in front of him, shoving his ID into the guy’s ridiculously long, painted fingers.

Louis will blame it on the alcohol if anyone asks, but he can’t help staring intensely at the alpha in front of him, soaking up every detail of the guy. He follows the painted nails to see several rings on the guy’s fingers, up to the tattoos adorning his muscular arm which seems to be seconds away from bursting out of the black t-shirt the alpha’s wearing. Those strong arms are attached to broad shoulders which lead up to probably the most beautiful face Louis has ever seen before. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the alpha, unable to look away from the strikingly green eyes.

It’s weird. So weird. Maybe Louis is more drunk than he thought, but he was feeling just barely tipsy only moments ago so that seems slightly unlikely. Between the long curls, the jawline so sharp it could cut glass, muscles rippling under his shirt, and endlessly long legs, this alpha is objectively the most attractive person Louis has ever seen.

But that can’t be right, because Louis’ an alpha, too.

Alphas like omegas. They don’t like other alphas. That’s just not how elementary biology works. Louis may not be the best at school, but he passed basic Alpha/Omega Dynamics.

He might be a bit consumed in confusingly lust-filled thoughts because he doesn’t notice the alpha handing him his ID back, not until the guy clears his throat.

Louis blinks rapidly, trying to shake those confusing thoughts from his head.

He needs a fucking drink.

He wordlessly takes the ID from the alpha’s hand, gulping slightly when he notices how much longer the other’s fingers are than his own. ID in hand, he hurries past the alpha to enter the strip club, needing to separate himself from what he has come to realize isn’t the intoxicating scent of omega strippers, but actually this alpha right in front of him.

“Hey,” he hears the alpha call after him, and Louis freezes, instantly paranoid that he somehow read Louis’ thoughts and is about to go all macho-alpha on Louis for his grotesque, perverse ideations.

Much to Louis’ surprise and delight, the alpha breaks into a wide smile-- holy shit, and are those dimples adorning his cheeks?-- his two front teeth ridiculously large like a bunny’s, which shouldn’t make Louis even a fraction of as endeared as he feels right now.

“Happy birthday, mate.”

Louis gawks at him, fish mouthing in shock. How did he know? Is this destiny? Is this some weird soulmate shit where the guy just knew? He should have paid better attention in his Alpha/Omega Dynamics class when they talked about soulmates.

He’s never been good at concealing his true emotions, and it appears this moment is no different. The alpha giggles-- literally fucking giggles!!-- at Louis’ obvious confusion and tilts his head to the ID Louis’ still gripping in his hand.

“Saw it on your ID,” he explains to Louis, looking highly amused by Louis’ embarrassing awkwardness.

Louis snaps his mouth shut, trying not to act like any more of an idiot than he already has and nods tersely.

“Right,” he manages to say in a steady voice. “Thanks…..” he lets his voice trails off as he realizes he doesn’t know this guy’s name, and they’re definitely not even at the level of acquaintances, let alone ready to exchange names.

The alpha bouncer, though, seems totally unfazed, stretching out a hand and smiling brightly at Louis.

“Harry.”

“Cool. Well, thanks, Harry.”

Louis tries not to think about how the alpha’s hand nearly encompasses his own while they shake. Seeing Harry up close like this, Louis realizes with slight surprise, considering that he works as a bouncer for a strip club, that he looks about the same age as himself. He also notices that there literally seem to be gold flecks in his green eyes, and that he wouldn’t mind getting used to staring into those very eyes, learning first hand the subtle ways his eye color must change in various lighting.

Which is absolutely ridiculous and definitely something Louis should not be thinking about regarding another alpha.

That thought snaps Louis out of his reverie, and he realizes that he’s been shaking Harry’s hand for much longer than socially acceptable, and Harry’s just gone along with it, tilting his head slightly as he giggles at Louis.

“ ‘m Louis.”

Louis wipes his palms on the the thighs of his jeans as he suddenly feels paranoid they were clammy and gross during that extended hand shake.

“Louis,” Harry says, as if testing out the feel of it on his tongue, nodding his head and smiling. “Nice to meet you, Louis. Don’t wanna keep you from your friends longer than I have.”

Louis wants to protest, to tell him that Harry’s really not keeping him at all, that he’d rather hang out with Harry in the front of the strip club rather than deal with his stupidly drunk friends, but of course he can’t say that to a total stranger, and an alpha stranger at that. Harry might think Louis’ flirting with him and that’s just wrong.

So instead he gives Harry a tight-lipped smile, nodding jerkily and offering him an awkward, mechanic wave.

Stupid, stupid, Louis thinks to himself as he rushes inside. What the hell is going on with him?

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the joint and another moment to adjust to the loud, sensual music blasting from the speakers. Luckily his friends spot him almost immediately and yell out raucously, gesturing him over to the table they’re all sat around.

The moment he sits down, a drink is thrust into his hands, and he takes it gratefully, chugging down almost half of it in one go. It burns going down, but he instantly feels a warmth blooming in his chest and his shoulders untensing, relaxing back into the seat.

He tries to focus on the barely clad female omega dancing around the pole right in front of their seats, but he can’t seem to keep his mind from wandering to places he doesn’t want to explore right now, not surrounded by his aggressively alpha friends in some seedy strip club while he’s pretty buzzed. Turning his attention to the male omega dressed in only tiny gold spandex shorts on the stage to his left, he tips the rest of his drink back and tries to get more in the mood of this evening.

While his friends can sometimes make him slightly uncomfortable with their strict opinions on masculinity within alphas, for the most part, he has a good time with them. They laugh at his jokes, have a few beers, kick around a football sometimes, and do typical teenage alpha things. And he’s fine with that. But sometimes when they get too drunk or rile each other up too much in attempts to show off for pretty omegas, he questions the socially constructed expectations of what it means to be an alpha or an omega.

He’s never thought that omegas should be paid less than alphas or that they deserve any less rights. Maybe it’s from growing up in a household of omega women, with his most reliant early conceptualization of alphas the bum douche bags his mom occasionally went out with. But also, he likes to think it’s just because he’s a good person and thinks everyone should be treated fairly regardless of their gender presentation. That’s becoming the norm across the nation-- expectations of all genders to be treated equally-- but of course alphas have been the ones to push back strongest against equality, considering that they currently and historically reside at the top of the hierarchy. Louis’ not very political, but he’s the most informed among his friends, who all subscribe to traditional notions of gender roles.

So before tonight, he’d never seen an alpha quite like Harry, what with his long hair, painted nails, and apparent penchant for wearing jewelry. Those are all omega traits, and Louis had never even considered the possibility that an alpha might want to dress that way. Yet it works so well on Harry. Even Louis’ friends didn’t say anything rude to him because he just owned his soft femininity so fiercely and unquestionably.

It’s incredibly intriguing to Louis, and he wonders if Harry has ever thought another alpha is as pretty as Louis thinks Harry is. He feels his cheeks flush at the thought of Harry thinking of Louis as beautiful, and he physically jolts his body upright in an attempt to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind.

Somehow another drink has appeared in front of him, and he happily picks it up, drinking it slower than he had his previous drink. He allows his eyes to follow the lithe movements of the male omega, and this time, as the alcohol from his previous drink settles in, it’s not long before he loses himself in the heady mixture of alcohol and aroma of several fit, young omegas.

He’s almost completely begun to enjoy himself and to stop thinking about his reaction to meeting Harry when a loud noise to his right startles him out of the content haze he had settled into.

At the table next to his and his friends, a group of large, middle-aged alphas had sat down at some point while Louis wasn’t paying attention. They probably all weigh at least double Louis and even from their seated positions, Louis can tell they’d all tower at least a head over him. They’re also all significantly more drunk than Louis and his friends, which is a feat considering the teen alphas have all pretty much progressed from buzzed to straight-up drunk since arriving at the strip club.

Just looking at the alphas next to them, Louis would have been able to guess that they’d be raucous, disrupt the space, and demean the working omegas. They just give off that look. That gross, misogynistic alpha look which is far too common, quite frankly. 

One of them, the ugliest and meanest looking in Louis’ opinion, has pulled the tiny female omega waitress serving them drinks into his lap and is gripping her so tightly she can’t get up. His friends are hooting and hollering, egging him on as they cackle at the omega’s clear distress.

Louis’ already halfway out of his seat before he even comprehends it, and he knows that if he were to get involved he’d definitely get his ass whooped simply based on the size difference between him and these alphas. But he also knows his friends would have his back and they’d put up a hell of a fight. Regardless, Louis wasn’t raised to sit back and watch while someone tried to hurt another person.

Probably luckily for him, three employees-- who even through his drunken haze, Louis immediately can smell as alpha-- swoop in to intercept in the situation, relieving Louis of the need to intervene. They must have situations with aggressive alphas frequently at this strip club because they seem to have this down to a science. Louis can’t hear what is being said over the pounding bass of the music, but the alphas let the omega waitress go and all leave in a huff without any sort of physical altercation occurring.

Louis had been so worried about the omega getting out unhurt that he hadn’t noticed that one of the alphas was Harry. But now that the situation has dissipated, it’s almost like instinct that his eyes settle on Harry, watching as he goes over to the omega, crouching his gangly form down slightly to speak to her face to face, placing his big hands on her shoulders and gently rubbing small circles.

Whatever he says to her results in her throwing her arms around him, and he hugs her so tightly that he picks her up, her feet leaving the ground. In the midst of the tight embrace, Harry glances over her shoulder and directly makes eye contact with Louis. The ferocity of his look, left over from his passion to keep the omega safe, breaks whatever spell Louis was under, and he drops his head immediately, moving for the first time since he noticed Harry was inside the club.

He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed that Harry had caught him staring when he so obviously is with this omega. Of course Harry has-- if not a mate-- a significant other. He’s fucking gorgeous-- even Louis is mesmerized by him, and Louis’ an alpha for fuck’s sake. Which makes it even more unsettling that Louis recognizes a coil of jealousy churning in his gut at the thought of Harry being with that omega. She’s objectively beautiful, so that’s good for Harry and whatever. There’s no logical reason to explain away Louis’ jealous, so he feels angry at himself for his confusing emotions.

Plopping back into his seat, Louis decides to just fuck his plan to drink this one slowly and chugs the rest, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe up any excess liquid. He takes a deep breath and tries to convince himself that he’s looking around the club just to check things out, not because he’s curious about what Harry’s doing.

Somehow, almost as if drawn together by magnets, the moment Louis looks up, his eyes settle upon Harry’s bright green ones immediately. Harry’s smiling at him, and when he notices Louis looking, he smiles even wider, waving his entire arm in a ridiculous gesture. Louis can’t help but laugh and wave back at him, trying to convince himself that he absolutely did not enjoy the way that Harry bit his bottom lip or visibly blushed under Louis' attention even in the dim lighting just from Louis’ attention.

Louis’ eyes don’t leave Harry’s long, slender body, watching as Harry heads back out to his post at the door. Louis’ mouth suddenly feels very, very dry, and he desperately needs another drink.

As if by magic, the skimpily clad omega waitress appears, a tray of shots in hand. Louis grabs two, downing them one after another, savoring the way his body immediately feels warmer and looser and his mind less cluttered with confusing thoughts of Harry the Alpha.

~~~

The rest of his 18th birthday is just an alcohol-fueled blur full of unnecessary shots and large expanses of soft-looking omega skin. Through it all, though, Louis can’t escape the slight yet intoxicating smell of Harry’s alpha aura lingering.

It’s weird, being so attuned to Harry’s scent, but not unpleasant.

His friends goad him into spending way too much money on a lap dance, and while he definitely enjoys the warmth of the male omega in his lap, he can’t help glancing over his shoulder occasionally to make sure Harry isn’t seeing this happen. He can’t rationalize why he doesn’t want Harry to see him with the omega, but he just doesn’t.

He tips the omega excessively afterwards, and while Louis’ eyes follow the jiggle of his arse in the tiny glittery shorts, his mind is just thinking of Harry wearing those skimpy bottoms.

It’s weird, but by the end of the night, he’s too drunk to either care about the weirdness or even be that weirded out with any more.

~~~

Three days later finds Louis in physics class, having given up on even pretending to listen to his teacher lecture. Instead he’s just staring at the clock, watching miserably as the seconds drag by.

He’s felt jittery and high-strung the past few days, just overall feeling off , and it’s driving him wild. He doesn’t know what the hell has gotten into him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that his rut is approaching… but that’s literally impossible since he had his rut a few weeks ago, and he’s never heard of an alpha having two ruts in less than two months.

He can’t decide if he wants to run a marathon or lie in bed for the rest of the week. He feels like he desperately needs to do something but nothing sounds good. He’s so antsy that he’s going out of his damn mind, and being in class is really exacerbating his inability to focus on anything.

Maybe staring at the clock isn’t the best plan to make time go faster, but he’s apparently a masochist because he can’t tear his eyes away from the painful sight of seconds ticking by at what feels like an increasingly slower and slower pace.

Finally, just when Louis feels like he’s about at the pinnacle of feeling like he’s about to burst out of his own skin, the final bell rings, dismissing them from class and ending the school day. Louis’ never been enthusiastic about staying late after class, and yet he still somehow manages to break his own personal record of how fast he gets out of the school and into his car.

He blasts the radio to the ultimate volume level, rolling down his windows, and just driving. He has no destination in mind, but at least he feels like he’s finally going somewhere after feeling trapped in his own skin for the past 72 hours.

The wind whipping through the car soothes the incessant heat and itch under his skin, and he allows his mind to wander wherever it wants, until he eventually just stops thinking, eyes on the road. It’s only after he’s been driving almost half an hour that he realizes that he’s stopped aimlessly wandering through back streets but has chosen a destination while on autopilot.

Looking at his surroundings, he realizes with a blush that the only thing he knows in this neighborhood is the omega strip club his friends took him to on his birthday.

Ignoring any nerves or thoughts of regret, he parks his car in the lot, checking himself out in the rearview mirrors before exiting. As he fixes his fringe, he tells himself that he’s just looking for something to break up the monotony of his life. That maybe finding a sexy omega will help scratch the mysterious itch that’s been bothering him the previous days. That he’ll just grab a quick drink and be on his way. That he’s definitely not hoping a certain curly-haired alpha is standing at the door.

That the giant smile he physically can’t contain upon first sight of Harry today is definitely nothing but purely platonic.

And if he doesn’t tell himself to ignore the butterflies that erupt in his belly when Harry smiles equally wide back, then that’s something no one else needs to know.

“Louis!” Harry exclaims, running a hand through his shoulder-length curls. “You came back!”

Louis has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling so big his face cracks or from spewing out suspiciously legit words of love. What the fuck is happening to him?

He awkwardly shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, suddenly self-conscious of his every movement now that he has Harry’s full attention on him. He rocks back on his heels, feeling this indescribable pull towards Harry, yearning to feel Harry’s incredibly soft-looking skin under his own.

He must be focusing on his own awkwardness for too long because Harry’s smile melts from his face and is replaced with a look of confusion. It’s unfairly cute the way he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. Louis’ sad to know that he’s the reason Harry’s smile disappeared, yet at the same time, he wants to see all of Harry’s various facial expressions, memorize them, and know the way Harry’s feeling just from a moment’s look.

What the fuck is happening to him?

“Um, yeah,” Louis finally stutters out, feeling like a complete idiot.

Yet Harry just smiles kindly at him, seeming unfazed by Louis’ internal turmoil.

“Well, technically I should ask for your ID, but I know you, birthday boy,” Harry says, making Louis gulp at his familiar, jovial manner.

“Yeah,” Louis says again, and he wants to put his head through a fucking wall. He’s never had this problem with omegas before. Never been one to be rendered speechless by anyone or anything.

Harry chuckles at Louis, and maybe it’s just Louis projecting but he could swear Harry gives him a quick full-body scan.

He’s definitely not making it up, though, when Harry’s eyes stop right at Louis’ thighs, and Louis feels like he might self-combust from how hot his cheeks have flushed under Harry’s intense scrutiny.

“Well,” Harry drawls out, seeming reluctant to tear his eyes away from Louis’ thighs.

“Yeah,” Louis says for the third time, despite having had sufficient time to think of something more insightful while Harry practically eye-fucked his legs.

“Guess I’ll just--” Louis nods his head towards the interior of the strip joint, although he feels absolutely no desire to go inside and leave Harry over here.

Harry nods, his tongue darting out between his lips and wetting them, something that Louis probably wouldn’t notice anyone else doing but for some reason, he already feels attuned to Harry and feels this desire to learn all of Harry’s quirks and mannerisms.

“Did you see an omega you liked last time you were here?” Harry asks as Louis starts to make his way into the club, quickly darting a hand up to run through his curls. Louis feels hopelessly endeared when he notices that Harry’s got blue nail polish on today, almost in a shade reminiscent of Louis’ own eye color. But Louis’ probably just being self-centered. It’s obviously just a coincidence.

Why does he notice every little thing about Harry, and why does he like everything little thing about Harry?

“Yeah, yeah I did,” Louis says feeling slightly bold and reckless considering he just made a stuttering fool of himself when he could only remember one English word. It’s not like he can really make more of a fool of himself. “I definitely saw someone I liked last time…. but not an omega.”

He rushes into the strip club, preventing Harry from saying anything else. But he’s not so fast that he misses the way Harry’s jaw drops open in-- hopefully pleasant-- surprise.

~~~

Louis’ on his third drink of the night when he finally decides “fuck it” and goes to sit by Harry at the entrance. He’d spent an hour trying to be interested in the various omegas strutting around the stages, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Harry or the confusing emotions he feels towards Harry. At this point he doesn’t even try to stifle down the physical aching in his heart from how happy he is at the way Harry smiles so brightly when he sees Louis approaching.

After that, Louis doesn’t even need any more drinks, he’s completely intoxicated off the feeling of having Harry’s full attention. It’s a fucking addicting feeling, and he never wants it to end.

Turns out, not only is Harry the most beautiful person Louis’ ever seen, he’s also apparently the kindest, most caring, witty, and intelligent person Louis’ ever met. It’s honestly unfair, is what it is, that after only spending a few hours together, Louis’ finally found his perfect companion-- someone who can keep up with his sassy banter, who makes him feel totally trusted and validated, who makes him laugh so much his abs ache, who makes him feel as if the world is full of opportunities and he can do anything he wants-- and it’s a fucking alpha .

He’d be able to work with it if he’d matched this seamlessly with a beta. It wouldn’t be ideal by any means, but they could work with it. But he’s never heard of two alphas in a romantic relationship before-- can’t even conceptualize how it would physically work for two alphas to be together.

Yet at the same time, he’s never met an alpha like Harry before.

He’s only ever met alphas who reinforce the stereotypes of the aggressively masculine alpha. That’s never been a problem for him before. It’s simply how things are. Alphas are big and strong and macho. Omegas are soft and gentle and pretty. He hasn’t really ever questioned that.

But Harry, he’s so different and so, so lovely.

He’s tall and noticeably very muscular. He’s got that sharp jawline and broad shoulders. He’s physically the ideal specimen of an alpha. Despite that, he’s found ways to express his inner beauty.

He’s the only alpha Louis’ ever met with long hair. The only alpha Louis’ ever met who wears jewelry. The only alpha Louis’ ever met who paints their nails, for god’s sake.

And it’s lovely. Not only does it just objectively look beautiful on Harry, Louis recognizes that what’s so lovely about Harry is that he’s clearly not afraid to express his pretty side, even though it goes against the entire basis of their society.

There’s been more than one moment where Louis’ caught himself just staring at Harry, completely mesmerized by anything he’s doing. His lips are fucking unreal, and it should be illegal how pink and plump they are. He talks with his hands, gesturing wildly even when no gestures are necessary. He scrunches up his eyebrows when he’s concentrating. The tip of his nose wiggles when he talks animatedly. He runs his hands through his curls when he gets nervous or excited.

Those are just the things Louis has picked up on within the couple hours they’ve spent talking about everything and nothing while sitting at Harry’s post, checking the occasional ID of alphas that arrives every so often.

They end up talking until Harry's shift ends, and Louis feels a bit pathetic at how disappointed he is to have to leave Harry. Mostly, though, he just feels confused by how deep his feelings towards Harry, another alpha, already go, often two days of knowing each other. It's definitely weird, but maybe the weirdest part is the fact that, once Louis gets past the problem of potentially being interested in another alpha, it's weird how not weird the whole thing is. He's never felt this comfortable with anyone after only knowing them a couple days. But with Harry, everything comes easily. They get along great, they make each other laugh, they have really engaging conversations. 

It's weird because it's so not weird. It feels so right. 

~~~ 

Louis wouldn't say it becomes a thing, how he goes to the strip club every day when classes end just to hang out with Harry. 

But like, it's definitely a thing. 

Two weeks later, and Louis' only missed three days where he absolutely couldn't get out of conflicts to come just be around Harry. Because that's what it is. Louis has this undeniable need to just be around Harry constantly, whether that's talking and hanging or just sitting and doing work separately, as long as they're in the same vicinity. 

Tonight's one of those nights where Harry has a lot to do at the strip club, so Louis' just sat at his now trademark spot right next to Harry's post at the front door. Louis' working on some calculus while sipping on a beer, trying to focus on work rather than just watching Harry. Because having the desire to ogle your alpha friend instead of doing your homework is probably not the best idea. 

It’s honestly scary how quickly Louis has become obsessed with everything Harry. It’s scary how immensely he feels for Harry. It’s painful how his chest literally aches where his heart is when Harry does something particularly Harry -- and the fact that he’s already learning which things are very “ Harry ” is scary.

It’s suffocating the amount he wants to care for and take care of Harry, and that’s not helped by the fact he sometimes forgets to fucking breath he’s so immersed in watching Harry.

Like most days he's spent at the strip joint, tonight Louis misses the sun setting he’s so busy watching the brightness that Harry exudes. He ignores his stomach rumbling from lack of dinner he’s so hungry for Harry’s attention. He doesn’t register the strip club closing and the other employees heading out he’s so distracted watching Harry’s strong muscles shifting under his shirt and jeans as he goes through his daily cleaning up activities.

Tonight, though, he doesn’t miss when Harry comes up to his seat with his hand outstretched, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“C’mon, up ya go,” he says, pulling Louis to his feet. It’s dumb but Louis feels a bit of loss when Harry separates their hands, stepping back to leave a space between them. They stand there for a few moments in silence, just looking at each other, neither quite sure what to say. Normally they do this awkward interlude of seemingly both wanting to say something more before leaving, yet it always ends with them just parting ways, Louis feeling unsatisfied with the night's conclusion and longing for more time with Harry.

It’s Harry who finally breaks the tension tonight.

“Um, so,” he starts eloquently, rubbing the back of his neck and shuffling his feet, directing his words to the ground. “I know it’s late and all, but would you want to come back to  my flat? It's just round the corner if you’d like to stop by for a drink. I have, uh, beer and wine and vodka and scotch and, um, also non-alcoholic drinks of course like uh water of course, duh, and um tea and coffee--”

Louis cuts him off, placing a gentle hand on his bicep. He’s unable to stop the dopey smile overtaking his face, but Harry’s nervous rambling is just so freaking cute.

“You had me at tea, mate,” he jokes, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when Harry smiles brightly at him. “Technically, you had me at ‘come back to my flat’ but I’ll never say no to tea.”

Harry blushes bright red, and while Louis hadn’t meant anything sexual by that-- he just wanted to spend as much time with Harry as possible-- he ducks his head in response, feeling flushed and slightly aroused at the thought of how easily he can make Harry blush with just a few choice words.

They walk side by side down the street towards Harry’s home, their arms occasionally brushing against each other every so often. Louis hopes that if Harry has noticed, he’ll attribute Louis’ full-body shivers every time their skin touches to the breeze in the air.

Harry’s rambling aimlessly about the various stars and constellations and astrology, and Louis’ not really following what he’s saying, but he wants Harry’s voice to be the soundtrack to his life.

A few blocks later, Harry leads them into a tall building and up to the fourth floor. Louis doesn’t even need Harry to show him which flat is his; he can tell immediately as they step out of the stairwell by following the intoxicating scent of Harry to his front door. Louis’ almost afraid that by the time they actually get inside Harry’s home, Louis will suffocate on Harry’s smell because it’s so strong and so all-consuming and so so lovely that Louis has to suppress this animalistic desire to roll around in Harry’s dirty laundry just to appreciate the pure, unadulterated Harry smell.

Walking inside, Louis’ not surprised to see a flat that is so Harry he practically swoons. It’s infinitely more organized and clean than Louis’ own flat, with several artistic photographs hanging on all the walls. A large pink with white polka dot couch takes up most of the sitting area, and it’s so un-alpha but fits so perfectly with who Harry is a person.

Is it possible to fall in love after such a short time? Is it possible to fall in love with someone you never even knew you were capable of falling in love with after such a short time?

Harry’s standing in the kitchen, looking at him expectantly, and Louis realizes that he had been asked a question and just completely missed it.

“Sorry, what’d ya say?”

“What can I get you to drink?”

“Oh, uh, do you have any Yorkshire tea please?”

Harry smiles so hard, dimples popping and looking hopelessly fond, and Louis doesn’t think he really did anything to earn that look, but he’s not complaining. It takes him a few moments of watching Harry prepare them both tea where he wonders what he said to make Harry look at him so adoringly, and the only thing he can think of is, does Harry like doing mundane things like making them tea for him? Is being domestic and simple like this something that Harry enjoys?

They sit down on the pink couch, mugs in hand, and Louis definitely does not miss the way he clutches the mug between his two hands while Harry’s single hand dwarfs his own mug. Louis gulps audibly, trying to keep his mind from going anywhere beyond platonic.

Whatever nerves and tension built up as they transitioned from the club to Harry’s flat quickly dissipate once they get comfortable and begin talking once more. This time, though, their topics of discussion get a bit deeper than simple interests and silly stories from their past.

After Louis gushes to Harry about his younger siblings for much longer than most people tolerate Louis’ sappy side reserved for stories about his family, he feels emboldened to ask Harry the question that’s been on his mind for awhile.

“Hey Harry? How’d you end up working at an omega strip club? You don’t exactly seem like the type to enjoy objectifying others for pay.”

Harry bites his bottom lip and runs his hand through his curls nervously, breaking eye contact and staring down at his lap. Louis feels bad for making Harry visibly uncomfortable, but he just doesn’t get it.

After seeing how caring Harry is, how he boldly subverts typical gender norms, how quickly he was to comfort the omega waitress on Louis’ birthday, it just doesn’t add up. Why would Harry want to work at an establishment like that? Not that Louis thinks there's anything wrong with wanting to work at a strip club. It just doesn't add up with the Harry's he's gotten to known these past few weeks.

He’d already learned that Harry’s only a few months older than him, which complicates the matter more. He seems so intelligent and like he plans things out precisely. So how did he end up working as a bouncer at a seedy omega strip club rather than in school?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry or anything. You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay, Lou,” Harry says in a tiny voice, and it breaks Louis’ heart that something could ever make this beautiful, big personality feel small. Looking up, Harry makes eye contact with Louis and takes a deep breath before proceeding.

“I presented as Alpha about six months ago, a little bit before my 18th birthday. And I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m not the stereotypical alpha,” Harry gestures towards his pink couch and lets out a self-deprecating chuckle as he inspects his painted nails, a beautiful yellow shade tonight.

Shaking his head, he resumes his story.

“So my parents were obviously very excited because they’re really traditional and conservative and wanted an alpha son. And I was fine with it; I love being Alpha. I love who I am. But I guess they expected after I presented that I’d be over this ‘phase,’ as they called it, of liking traditionally Omega things? But I wasn't. I like pretty things, and I think that’s okay. My parents, though, weren’t okay with it, and, um, on my 18th birthday actually, my friends and I got drunk, yeah? And I had been stressed about my parents’ disapproval and pressuring me to change who I am. So I got really drunk, and I wasn’t thinking right, I was just angry with my parents and wanted to get back at them. So I brought home an alpha, and they caught us together and kicked me out of the house on the spot.”

Harry shrugs like he didn’t just drop several bombs on Louis; that he’s been disowned by his truly awful sounding parents or that he’s been with another alpha intimately. Louis swallows and nods along with Harry, trying to keep his face neutral so as not to make Harry think he’s judging.

“And, yeah, I didn’t have anywhere to go or any money so I responded to any job postings I could find, and this was the one that hired me first. So that’s that.” Another shrug, as if to say “it is what it is.”

Louis doesn’t know how Harry’s so nonchalant about this because Louis’ fucking fuming. He’s completely unable to conceptualize how anyone could be angry with Harry or want to change the soft parts of him that makes him this lovely creature. And his own parents!! Kicking him out of his house for simply being brave and strong enough to express himself! Louis feels as if he could punch someone, preferably anyone who has ever caused Harry any pain or made Harry question his self-worth.

“I’m so sorry, Haz,” Louis croaks out, unsure where that nickname came from but enjoying the way it rolls off his tongue. He doesn’t even think about it as he reaches out and grasps one of Harry’s hands, rubbing hopefully soothing circles into his skin.

Harry shrugs once again but has a small smile on his face as he looks down to where their hands are entangled in his lap.

“Lou?”

Harry says it so quietly that Louis’ unsure if he just made it up.

“Haz?”

Continuing to stare intensely at their hands, Harry takes a few deep breaths and then blurts out, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Louis tenses up in shock, and he immediately feels guilty when he sees Harry scowl and blink rapidly, as if holding back tears. It’s not that Louis doesn’t want to kiss him, because he’d realized ages ago that’s precisely what he wants, he’s just unsure how to go about this since they’re both alphas .

Harry tries to tug his hand out of Louis’ grip, but Louis holds on tighter, unwilling to let Harry go before he explains.

“I really want to kiss you, too,” Louis manages to say, and he wants to pat himself on his back for keeping his voice from coming out in a nervous, high-pitched squeak.

Harry’s head shoots up, and he looks at Louis, his mouth open in a little “o” shape of surprise. He breaks into a blinding smile, biting his bottom lip as if trying to suppress his happiness, and that’s not what Louis wants. He wants to make Harry happy every single day, and he wants Harry to feel comfortable expressing his happiness in any outlet he wants.

They just look at each other for a moment, and then Harry’s unoccupied hand slowly comes up to stroke along Louis’ cheek, coming to a halt as Harry cups Louis’ jaw. It’s so intimate, and it sends sparks flying down Louis’ spine, and at this point, the butterflies that have apparently taken up a permanent residence in Louis’ gut are throwing a fucking rave with how much they’re fluttering around. Louis wants this so much, wants to know what Harry feels like, tastes like, sounds like when he kisses, but he’s fucking nervous as shit because he's still confused about his feelings for another alpha.

When Harry begins to lean forward, eyelids fluttering shut, though, Louis instinctually leans back, extracting his hands from Harry’s and wrapping his arms protectively around himself.

Harry blinks at him, confusion and hurt masking his normally carefree face.

“Wha--”

“I really want to kiss you,” Louis cuts him off. “But I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know alphas could even do or want…” he gestures between them, at a loss for words, “this until recently. I’m so sorry.”

He feels pathetic, and he’s sure he sounds even worse to Harry. Harry who knows who he is and what he wants. Harry who is so strong and has created this life of his own all by himself. Harry who has actually been with other alphas before and knows what he’s doing.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t apologize,” Harry reassures him, reaching a hand out as if to touch Louis’ leg before thinking better of it and clasping his own hands in his lap. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. It’s really okay. Thank you for telling me.”

God, he’s just so perfect. That’s exactly what Louis needed to hear, and he hadn’t even known he needed to hear it. Yet somehow Harry just gets him, and it makes this whole thing even more embarrassing and makes him want to kiss Harry even more.

“Can you..” Louis trails off, having to fight the insurmountable shame he’s feeling. He’s just been socialized from his first memory to think that alphas are demanding and confident, always sure of themselves. So it’s not only that he’s struggling with not knowing how two alphas can even physically be together, but he’s having to fight against eighteen years of internalization about how he should feel and act.

Harry waits so patiently, not pressuring Louis to speak until he’s ready, until he’s collected his thoughts.

“Can you show me what to do?”

He feels weird and embarrassed when the words are out in the open like this, ashamed of having to ask for help and for admitting he doesn’t know what to do. He’s an alpha. He should be in control of the situation. Logically, he knows Harry isn’t going to judge him or think any less of him, but he’s struggling with not thinking less of himself for the way Harry makes him feel.

Harry smiles tentatively, nodding so hard his curls spring up and down animatedly.

“Of course, Lou. Whatever you want.”

And the thing is he sounds so genuine, and those fucking green eyes are so wide and staring so intensely and passionately at Louis that in that moment, his fears about what others will think of him as being emasculated and less of an alpha for wanting this just melt away.

“Kiss me?” Louis asks quietly, his knee jiggling anxiously.

The moment Harry cups his jaw with both large hands, his body relaxes and his nervous leg calms. He’s sure he’s staring so intensely into Harry’s eyes it’s creepy, but he doesn’t care because then Harry’s leaning in, his beautiful pink lips coming closer and closer.

The initial kiss is slow and gentle, just brushes of their lips against each other. Harry doesn’t push, just pressing gentle kisses against Louis’ mouth until Louis relaxes enough to kiss back properly.

Louis doesn’t think about it as he reaches up and wraps his hands around Harry’s wrists, holding him there as their kiss deepens. Harry tentatively swipes his tongue across Louis’ lips, and Louis automatically parts his lips, sucking in Harry’s tongue.

And the fucking sound that Harry emits is probably the most beautiful piece of music Louis has ever heard.

The way he moans into Louis’ mouth, licking ferociously and gripping onto Louis as if he never wants to let go is the greatest feeling Louis’ ever experienced.

Louis vaguely registers that he should be more scared of how addicting just a few minutes of making out with Harry is, but any worries about what society will think of this pale in comparison to how incredible it feels to have Harry so close like this.

Harry breaks the kiss and drops his hands from Louis’ face, and Louis lets out a whimper that should be embarrassing, but it’s not as Harry fists his hands into the front of Louis’ shirt and begins sucking and nipping along the underside of Louis’ jaw and down his neck. It feels fucking incredible, and Louis can already feel arousal growing in his gut. Sparks of pleasure making his throat dry and his hands shake with how much he wants Harry.

While Harry sucks marks into Louis’ neck, Louis drags his hands up and down Harry’s thighs, almost immediately becoming addicted to the way they fill out his hands perfectly. Being able to touch Harry like this is so much better than anything he’s ever done with an omega. Feeling Harry’s strong muscles under his hands is making his head spin with desire, thinking about the fact that Harry’s taller than him, that he’s maybe stronger than him, too.

It’s weird because Louis likes Harry so much, but the thought of being able to be rough with Harry and have him be rough back, thoughts of throwing Harry onto a bed or having Harry hold him up against a wall, is getting him so hot.

He’s always been afraid of hurting the omegas he’s been with, having heard stories of alphas going wild during ruts, which has made it hard for him to get totally into the mood with omegas, too preoccupied with making sure he wasn’t crushing them or pressuring them or hurting them. But with Harry, this fear of breaking his partner is void. It’s actually thrilling, the thought that he can manhandle Harry and just let go of his inhibitions.

Just to test it out, he grips Harry’s thighs harder, digging his fingers into the meaty muscle.

It’s even better than he could have ever imagined, because Harry moans against Louis’ skin, tugging Louis even closer and kissing at his neck more desperately. Louis wants to cry at the realization that it’s mutual; that he wants to get rough with Harry, and Harry wants Louis to be rough with him.

After ferociously marking up both sides of Louis’ neck, Harry detaches his mouth from Louis’ skin, much to Louis’ chagrin. Harry pants heavy breathes against Louis’ sensitive skin, and despite his displeasure at the loss of Harry’s mouth, Louis kind of appreciates the breather.

As he unconsciously keeps rubbing up and down Harry’s thighs, he realizes with embarrassment that he’s already almost fully hard after only kissing. It’s weird; he’s never gotten so hard so fast. But at this point, everything’s weird, and maybe weird isn’t a bad thing?

“What do you want?” Harry breathes into Louis’ shoulder, pressing a light kiss over Louis’ shirt.

Louis gulps, suddenly faced with the realization that he wants everything with Harry. Kissing, sex, marriage, the whole thing.

He’s only ever heard of this intense sudden attraction when someone finds their soulmate, but soulmates are already so rare between alpha/omega couples and it just doesn’t make sense biologically for two alphas to be soulmates. They can’t reproduce. He doesn’t even know if an alpha’s body is biologically capable of taking a knot. Not only are alpha/alpha relationships totally unheard of in modern society, they wouldn’t be able to have a biological family, which is one of the main points of mating and marrying someone.

Harry, in that way that continually shocks Louis, must know that Louis’ starting to spiral, because he sits up, looking into Louis’ eyes.

“We can stop, yeah? It’s fine. We can just talk. Or not, you can go home, I mean it’s late, and I’d totally get it--”

Louis claps a hand over Harry’s mouth, smiling as he watches Harry’s eyes go comically wide in surprise. It’s not that Louis doesn’t find Harry’s nervous rambling endearing, he just wants to make sure Harry really hears what he’s about to say so that Harry can stop being nervous about any move they make. The inner alpha in him purrs as he decides to take control of the situation and just lay all his cards out on the table.

“I wanna go all the way with you, Harry, but I just don’t know how to, and I don’t know if we can have a future as two alphas, but this time we’ve had together is maybe the happiest I’ve ever been, which is dumb and embarrassing but yeah, it is what it is. I really like you, Harry, but I don’t know how two alphas can be together.”

He doesn’t really know how he expects Harry to react to that declaration, but it’s definitely not Harry throwing himself into Louis’ lap, encircling his arms around Louis’ shoulders and burying his face in Louis’ shoulder, hugging him tightly as he plants kisses all over the skin he can reach.

Louis can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes, feeling overcome with happiness. He’s always known he had a bit of a scent kink, seemed reasonable being a naturally possessive alpha, so the smell of Harry’s hair-- the shampoo mixed with his natural alpha odor-- combined with Harry’s close proximity and his acceptance of Louis’ fear does absolutely nothing to stop the almost continuous bursts of arousal pooling in his gut.

Harry sits up, smiling brightly at Louis and kisses him hard, their teeth bumping into each other at first as the kiss lacked all forms of coordination or finesse. That just makes Louis laugh more, which makes Harry laugh, and soon they’re just basically laughing into each other’s mouths.

It’s so weird how happy he is right now.

It’s so weird how just being around Harry makes all fears of the consequences a relationship with another alpha might have completely disappear.

It’s so weird how willing Louis already feels to give up anything and everything that stands in the way of making Harry smile.

It’s so weird, how simply seeing how brave Harry has been makes Louis feel strong.

Objectively, it’s weird. Louis’ never heard of two alphas being in a romantic relationship. So it’s really fucking weird that only after a few hours he’s incapable of picturing a future without a relationship with this lovely alpha right before him.

But sitting here, laughing with Harry, it’s not weird.

It’s the most natural thing he’s ever experienced, and even though he knows it’s not going to be easy by any means, Louis wants to be strong for Harry.