Chapter Text
The boy leaning awkwardly against the side of the bar is every sane man's wet dream. Trust me, Louis Tomlinson knows. With long legs clad in tight, black jeans and a matching long sleeved, black shirt that is unbuttoned indecently so, exposing smooth, rather pale skin, he's damn near stunning. He's biting his full lip that is coloured a natural yet somehow electric shade of red, Louis' favourite colour and shifting his arm restlessly where it rests on the top of the bar as he flushes under Nick's attention. This won't do.
Yet as Louis crosses the bar, abandoning the man he'd been chatting up for more time than he was worth, he finds that the boy before him is exactly that; a teenager. A boy. Maybe it's the surprised light in those emerald green eyes or the way his curls tickle his cheeks that are still slightly curved with youth but Louis is faced with quite the dilemma. While he is the type to take a different 'boy' home every night, this one actually fits that description and he finds he's not as quick to corrupt. Yet when Nick places a hand on tall, dark and handsome's arm and squeezes, Louis feels his eyes narrow without intention and he's over there in a flash, laying a proprietary arm over the stranger's shoulder.
"Hey bro, think maybe you should come home. Mum's angry that you didn't do your homework," He interjects smoothly, smiling lazily at the boy whose eyes have widened comically.
Nick retracts his arm with raised eyebrows and Louis feels his smile deepen, crinkling around the corners of his blue eyes.
"How old are you Harry?" Nick questions the beautiful boy who suddenly has a name.
"Too young for you Nicholas," Louis informs him with a wink to show he's just teasing.
"I'm seventeen," Harry says, pouting adorably.
Louis covers the side of his mouth with one hand and whispers in an exaggerated aside to Nick.
"In other words, too young to be looking for hook ups in a bar."
Harry looks rather pissed now and he shakes Louis' arm off, his green eyes flashing angrily as he looks Louis up and down, assessing. Whoops, Louis thinks, didn't mean to put him off entirely. However he's pleasantly surprised when Harry's eyes linger on his rather shapely hips and defined abdominals, his cheeks heating a little as he meets Louis' openly amused gaze.
"Well I'll be going then. Get him home safe," Nick warns with a pointed finger, as though he hadn't been planning on taking Harry home himself a few minutes earlier.
Louis gives him an impatient smile, just waiting for him to abandon the task so he can maybe, perhaps, pick up his slack. Yet when Louis turns inward to face Harry, he feels Nick's arm on his bicep and turns around to find a suspicious look on the older man's face.
"Louis, don't you have a whole heap of sisters? I swear you told me that-"
"He never talks about me. We weren't on the best of terms for most of my life. He tends to pretend I don't exist," Harry cuts in, wrapping an arm around Louis' waist and squeezing.
Louis fights the shiver running through him at the younger boy's touch and tosses a smirk in his direction.
"Exactly. He's an absolute head case, better not to mention him really."
"Ah...there is definitely some weird tension between you...so I'm just going to..."
"Great idea," Harry responds, his eyes never leaving Louis.'
"Excellent," Louis agrees.
They both hear an awkward cough-laugh and then Nick disappears and Louis is all alone with the child model.
"Nick's going to tell everybody I'm sleeping with my brother," Louis offers with raised eyebrows, as he moves to face Harry, leaning towards him across the bar.
"Maybe you should be."
The comment is delivered with plenty of bravado but Louis notices the shuffling of Harry's boot clad feet and the cautious flicker of fear behind his eyes.
"I don't sleep with little boys, young Harold."
"I told you, I'm-"
"Seventeen, yeah I got it," Louis rolls his eyes, "and I'm 21. You're too young. You're a virgin...at least as far as males go...am I right? This is your first gay bar?"
Harry begins to bluster, his cheeks turning the same shade of red as his lips and it's hopelessly endearing.
"Who the hell do you...what the...who even are you?" He finishes with, his face creasing as he hears the words he's just spat out.
Louis can't help himself. He reaches up and tugs on a particular wayward curl and his lips curl upward as Harry's eyes flutter closed against his will.
"I'm Louis William Tomlinson. I'm the guy your mother warned you about Harold," Louis says, scaling up the snark as he lets his fingers trail down to Harry's collar bones where he smooths his hand across them.
Harry reaches up and removes his hand with flared nostrils but he still looks a little torn.
"My name is Harry. Harry Styles. Not Harold or young Harold or any other variation," He warns.
Louis strokes an imaginary beard.
"Hmm," he says playfully, "how about Curly....Curly?"
Harry shakes his head, his curls tickling his cheeks but his mouth is turned up with amusement and Louis knows it would be simple to seduce him. Harry's hand is still around his wrist and Louis embarrassingly jerks a little when Harry runs his thumb across the start of the vein that runs from the base of his hand through to his elbow.
Harry's watching him again and biting his lip. Louis is usually unapologetically arrogant about his good looks. He knows that his red jeans accentuate his best feature; his arse and that the loose black singlet that exposes his tattoos and muscles tends to draw a crowd. He knows the quiff is just twink enough to draw the eyes of the younger boys but that his "it is what it is" tattoo and reasonable amount of stubble ensures the older crowd isn't entirely put off. It's true, Louis can usually have his pick of blokes on a Thursday night at his favourite bar. However Harry is so impressionable and idealistic, he can tell, that it throws him off balance. Louis' not quite sure if he wants to see the darkening of desire in Harry's eyes or something more substantial. It frightens him. Louis never craves respect, Louis craves a good lay only.
"Come home with me," he blurts out with panic.
"What for?" Harry questions him with a furrowed brow.
"Well what were you going to do tonight? Stay with someone right? You can't go home now, you can't stay here. So stay with me."
Louis says this all very quickly, not giving himself a chance to question his own invitation.
"I don't even know you."
Harry looks complete bewildered and rightly so. First, Louis tells him he's too young then he asks him to come home with him. Idiot.
"You don't know Nick either. You were planning on sleeping at a stranger's house tonight. I'm offering you the same...just with slightly different benefits," Louis says with what he hopes is a kind smile.
"What kind of benefits?"
Harry wriggles his eyebrows suggestively and Louis can't help the small spurt of laughter that breaks through his closed mouth. This boy is ridiculous, he thinks. Harry's eyes are blown wide as he watches and Louis feels a little self conscious.
"What?"
"You're very beautiful," Harry sighs and it sounds...disappointed.
"About the benefits..." Louis trails off, avoiding eye contact, his stomach jumping like he is in fact a prepubescent boy.
"Yes," Harry encourages him, like an over excited golden retriever.
"I won't sleep with you but...well, I know you haven't but...what have you....what experience.." Louis feels like an idiot, trying to find a way to ask a question that normally wouldn't bother him in the slightest.
What on earth is going on?
"I've never done anything with a guy," Harry admits and when Louis looks up, he finds that Harry has sucked his whole bottom lip into his mouth and is chewing on it nervously.
"Hey," Louis whispers, gently cupping Harry's chin, "it's okay."
"It's embarrassing," Harry sighs.
"I was eighteen Harry and very awkward my first time. Now look at me, I'm pretty much a Casanova," Louis says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.
He's still holding Harry's chin but he lets go as Harry tilts his head down to look more directly into his eyes, his cheeks dimpling with a breathtaking smile. Louis' breath gets caught in his throat.
"You're ridiculous," Harry chuckles.
"Funny, I would have said the same about you. Has anybody ever told you your legs are too long for your body?"
This just inspires further laughter and Louis kind of loves the sound. He leans forward and whispers exactly that in Harry's ear. Louis' not flirting with a seventeen year old, he's not. He's just...having a bit of fun. He's entitled to it.
"Back to the benefits," Harry breathes.
Louis draws back with a cautious smile on his pursed lips.
"I'll kiss you. Once. But...not here. Come home with me," he says, sliding his arm around Harry and tugging a little.
Harry towers over him and it's a little disconcerting given their ages. He responds to Louis' touch by grabbing him by the waist also and stepping closer.
"What if I don't want to kiss you?"
Louis is more than a little taken aback. He'd been so sure....
"I do," Harry corrects and Louis' heart picks up in his chest, "but don't assume. When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me."
The relief makes Louis a little crazy and his laughter is loud and uncontrolled before he reigns it in, rolling his eyes in a much cooler manner.
"Ridiculous," he mutters.
"Says the boy who just laughed loud enough for the whole bar to hear... then tried to act like he didn't," Harry contends with raised eyebrows and damn it if that sudden confidence and willingness to argue isn't attractive.
"Man, not boy." Louis corrects pathetically.
Harry is the one to roll his eyes now.
"Let's get out of here."
Louis tugs on Harry's shirt to get him to follow.
"I thought you'd never ask," Harry says with a fake southern drawl, fluttering his eyelashes indecently.
Louis giggles and then quickly turns on his heel, pushing his way through the people, trying to pretend he didn't just make that sound. Harry is hot on his heels and he leans forward, his breath hot against Louis' neck as he whispers into his ear.
"I heard that."
Harry might just be the end of Louis. Why is that so exhilarating?
.....
"So this is it," Louis announces, spreading his arms wide as he walks backward through his apartment.
His apartment is a whole lot of stainless steel furniture complimented by mostly black rugs, a black leather couch and a few rather expensive paintings. Harry looks around with wide eyes, pausing to stare at one thing or another every few moments.
"What do you do? I mean how did you-"
"Afford this?" Louis finishes for him, "I'm studying Drama at uni but I inherited a fuck load of money from my grandparents. Thought I better put it to good use and buy this bachelor pad. What do you think?"
"It's," Harry pauses, his Adam's apple bobbing, "very clean."
Louis' face creases in response and Harry crosses the floor and grabs his shoulder.
"Sorry. No I just meant like....it's not very homey. It's kind of...lonely," Harry explains, his eyes caressing Louis' face in a way that makes him very much uncomfortable.
"Stop the psycho babble now please. I am NOT lonely. Trust me."
Louis is adamant. Harry's face softens further and he squeezes Louis' shoulder.
"I do."
"Well then," Louis says, pulling Harry's hand off his shoulder.
He runs his own hand up Harry's arm and then cups the back of his neck, eyeing Harry's mouth with relish.
"So we're doing this now?" Harry gulps visibly, any sign of bravado vanishing instantly as he places a trembling hand on Louis' hip.
Louis takes this as a sign to take control and grabs Harry's waist with his other hand, pulling his body snug against Louis' own. Louis' pectorals rest just below Harry's but he has to tilt his head back to accommodate Harry's height. Although he'd never let anyone call him small, in this moment Louis kind of finds their height difference rather hot. He uses his grip on Harry's neck as leverage as he leans up and whispers in Harry's ear.
"Don't be scared. I'm going to kiss you, softly at first, until you get your bearings. Then I will ask for a little more and you will give me permission but only because it's what you want and then...then I will kiss you so thoroughly, you'll never recover."
When Louis leans back down, Harry's pupils are fully dilated and his breaths are coming out in short gasps. Louis takes that as his cue and pushes up on the balls of his feet, simply nipping at Harry's lips at first. Harry secures an arm around his waist supporting him and Louis smiles gratefully, slowly brushing a soft, teasing kiss against his lips in response. There's a shivery, buzzing sensation when their lips touch that Louis' never felt before and when Harry squeezes him, fitting his mouth over his top lip and sucking gently, he trembles a little, as though he were the one being kissed for the first time.
But Louis' not one to relinquish control and he tuts against Harry's mouth before returning the favour and sucking Harry's bottom lip between his own, swapping between sucking and nibbling as Harry's fingers dig into his hip pleasantly. The moment turns sweet and rather intimate as their lips push and pull at each other and it's almost too much for Louis when Harry's mouth parts and he lets his own tongue meet Harry's in an awkward but not unpleasant tangle.
Louis wants to ravish Harry completely. He places his hands on Harry's hips, never breaking the kiss and backs him into his room, pushing him gently down onto the bed and straddling his waist without hesitation. He rocks gently against Harry, their jean clad cocks rubbing tightly against each other with every rotation of Louis' hips as Harry moans into his mouth and Louis sucks on his tongue a little in response. Harry grabs his arse, pulling him further into his lap as he sits up more, leaning back against the bed frame. Louis continues to grind against him for a few moments, kissing him for all his worth before some sense of awareness slowly starts to come back and he brings his leg across and off Harry's lap and settles down beside him on the bed.
"That was a hell of a kiss," Harry breathes raggedly.
When Louis looks at him, his lips are swollen and his cheeks are flushed but the real kicker is his eyes, all lit up and sparkling with excitement.
"Bedtime," Louis says, avoiding the question that's in Harry's eyes now.
Why had he taken it so much further than he mean to? He couldn't answer that; he didn't know. Harry moves to slide under the covers now but Louis stops him with a hand to his chest.
"No young grasshopper. You're out there," he says, pointing out the door to the leather couch, "there's bedding stuff under the couch."
Harry shrinks under his harsh gaze and Louis has to swallow down the guilt. What more does he expect? Louis is saving him from a night spent on the streets. He just gave him some experience and damn it if it wasn't amazing but he's not about to spoon him too. Louis doesn't spoon. He especially doesn't spoon seventeen year old virgins who look like Harry Styles.
"But I thought-" Harry tries.
"I told you I wasn't going to sleep with you. I meant that in both ways," Louis cuts him off.
Harry swallows noisily, avoiding his eyes and then leaves the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Louis passes a hand across his face and then strips out of his clothes, crawling back into bed in just his briefs.
He gets up again with a loud sigh when he hears a thump from the living room and the sound of someone cussing softly. He opens the door to find Harry also in nothing but briefs, the doona he'd been using crumpled haphazardly on the floor. He sits there with splayed legs, looking adorably rumpled and seriously cross with himself, rubbing what appears to be a sore spot on his curly head.
"What happened?" Louis asks, hoping he sounds more impatient than fond.
He also hopes that his lower region will stop reacting to the sight of semi-naked Harry before it gets embarrassing. Harry looks up at him but his speech cuts off as he takes Louis' body in.
"I-"
"You?" Louis prompts, widening his stance because okay, maybe he's enjoying Harry's gaze on him a little too much.
"I fell...off the couch. I hit my head on the table." Harry answers rapidly now, looking near terrified that Louis will bite his head off.
Louis bites down on a smile as he shakes his head with exasperation.
"You are a head case. Now I suggest you go to sleep, you've got school tomorrow pumpkin."
Harry sends him a withering glare and Louis is perhaps a little proud of him.
"Oh and stop perving sunshine," Louis chirps, delighted to note the way Harry bows his head a little, pulling the doona around him in a defensive gesture.
"Night Harold," Louis sings as he slips into his room and shuts the door.
But that rough, rumbling voice calling out to him stops him in his tracks.
"Wasn't the only one perving. Night Lewis."
Louis groans and face plants on his bed, wondering who thought it was fair to plant Harry Styles in his his direct line of vision in that bar tonight. Whoever it was, he definitely wants to have words with them.... to strangle them..or thank them. Louis is horrified by his own train of thought. He's letting a clumsy, long legged Brunette tie him up in knots for no discernible reason. He might as well call himself Edward Cullen and go suck on Harry's...oh god no, the images. Louis groans aloud once more and then screws his eyes up, willing himself to sleep instead of thinking about sucking love bites into Harry's pulse point.