Work Text:
Covering his junk, Harry rounded his apartment, opening all the windows. He loved the start of spring. Sounds from the street lifted his mood further: millennials with iced coffees walking to brunch, birds tweeting, kids fighting over a chalk-drawn hopscotch court. Papers fluttered off the coffee table and an empty plastic cup skittered across the floor. He picked up the papers and shuffled them into an almost-neat pile and put them back, this time weighted down by the remote. He tossed the cup in the sink to deal with later.
The sun beckoned him. He had no plans for the day other than soaking up some rays on his front stoop.
Satisfied that the new wind currents weren’t going to blow anything else over, he slung a pair of grey sweats on his bare ass, threw on a plain white tank, and pulled a slouchy beanie over his curls. He grabbed a cold beer, and slid into a pair of flip flops on his way out the door.
He was taking stock of the small front yard, when someone caught his eye. He was jogging topless, in tight grey sweatpants. A thin fabric headband held his hair back. Tattoos dotted his arms and he had a scripted chest piece. Harry paused, beer halfway to his mouth, to watch him run by. Generally, he tried not to overtly check out random strangers, he couldn’t help himself with this one because he was so fucking hot, especially covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The guy passed by without breaking his stride. His bum looked delectable. Harry’s beer wasn’t going to be able to quench that thirst. He chuckled to himself and finished taking his sip.
The man pivoted at the end of the street, and starting running back. In a panic, Harry bent down to pick up some rocks and sticks littering the small yard. He glanced up often, tracking the guy’s progress. His mouth started watering the closer the guy got. He ticked all of Harry’s boxes so blood was already rushing south towards his dick. Then, Harry realized with horror, the guy was slowing down and coming to a stop in front of him.
The guy cocked a hip as he stood and caught his breath. Harry dropped the detritus he was holding as he soaked in the body in front of him. Lithe and athletic as the guy was, Harry couldn’t pull his eyes away from his slight V-line, and then the sizable package as his eyes continued to track south.
The guy smirked. Harry was a goner. “I’m new to the neighborhood. You know a good place to grab a drink?” he asked.
“Got a six-pack and a bed upstairs,” Harry answered, because he lacked a brain to mouth filter.
Thankfully, the guy laughed, hard and loud. He bent over with his hands on his knees. “Fuck dude, I like you,” he finally said. “But let’s start with names. I’m Louis.”