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Harry Styles. The name made Louis swallow heavily, eyes closing in disbelief. Out of thirty names, of course, Harry Styles is the one that would be printed centrally on the slip of white paper he clutched. He turned away from his overly smiley teacher who was already thrusting the Santa hat full of names towards her next unsuspecting victim, heading back to his seat past the rows of casualties now deep in thought over what the heck to by their secret Santa. He collapsed next to Niall with a heavy sigh, drawing Niall’s attention from where he had been nearly asleep against the wall.
“That bad huh?”
“Terrible.” Niall chuckled slightly, taking in the frustrated, a slightly despairing look on his best friend’s face.
“C’mon then. Spill.” Louis flicked the paper across the desk, watching as it fluttered to a still.
“Harry Styles?!”
“Yup.”
“As in, the Harry Styles who you’ve had a crush on since he moved here in September?”
“Yup.” Niall stared in wonder at a miserable Louis.
“I fail to see how this is a bad thing.”
The older lad huffed, sliding further down in his chair.
“Because I have no idea what to get him and I’m going to end up looking like a complete idiot and then where will I be? I don’t even know him; I’ve never spoken to him!”
Niall nodded slightly, smirking slightly. His eyes flickered to behind Louis head. Smiling wider.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”
Louis head snapped round so violently there could have been a slight risk of getting whiplash. Late, as usual, Harry styles walked into the room, striding over to the corner he resided in. legs up to his armpits were clad in ripped black skinny jeans, loose muscle tank highlighting his bulging biceps and plaid shirt loosely knotted round his waist emphasizing the slight strut in his movements. Dark green eyes rimmed in smudgy black liner, that somehow he managed to pull off without being teased, glared around the room. Louis watched as his tongue flicked out to play with the lip ring that studded his lower lip, swallowing hard at the action, remembering every daydream that had centred around the question of what it would be like to kiss Harry styles, with his damn lip ring and stupidly soft looking lips. Suddenly, Harry’s dark eyes came to a rest on Louis own, which is when Louis realised hed been staring. Blush flooding his cheeks, he hastily turned back to Niall. Missing the smirk that crept across Harry’s face.
“Mr Styles. Seeing as you’re so late in joining us, you get whoever’s left.” Their teacher placed a slip of paper on Harry’s desk. He waited a good minute before picking it up, registering the name with a slight raise of his eyebrow.
Louis stared into the abyss of his locker, trying desperately to remember which textbook he needed. Realisation hitting him, he tugged out his maths books, gathering it along with his binder in his arms before slamming the locker door. And nearly dropping it all at the sight of Harry styles leant lazily against the neighbouring locker.
“So, I’m your secret Santa.” Harry spoke, gravelly voice filling the isolated corridor. Fuck. Louis hadn’t heard him speak before. Now he only had another thing to add to his list of reasons Harry styles is attractive – deep, velvety voice.
“I always thought the point of secret Santa was that it was secret?” Louis retorted, face registering shock at his own sharp tongue. Mental slap. Great first impression, Lou. Way to fuck it up.
But to his surprise, when he looked back up, Harry was smirking at him, eyes glinting.
“Quick one aren’t you? Well, correct Tomlinson, but back to my original point – I’m meant to be getting you a present, and I have no idea what you want. So, care to enlighten me?”
Draped against that locker, all Louis could think to the answer to that question was you. Harry was, in that moment, the definition of hot – books clutched lazily in one hand muscles all tensed up, curls escaping from the bandana fastened round his head and tumbling down round his face, and just eyes, deep, green eyes that felt like they could see right through Louis soul. He couldn’t stop himself, dragging his eyes along Harry’s entire body, embedding the sight of him like this to long term memory, biting his own lip when he thought about what toned stomach could lie beneath that white t-shirt if the muscles in his arms were anything to go by. Hearing a slight cough, he snapped out of his dream like state, registering the clear amusement in Harry’s eyes. realising he hadn’t answered the question he hastened to speak.
“Well, um- “
“Actually Y’know what? I think I’ve just got an idea. See ya round, Tomlinson.” Harry interrupted, shooting Louis a slightly smug look before striding away from the lockers, leaving a blushing, flushed Louis alone in the corridor. Breathing out heavily, trying to regain normal heart rate, Louis went to try and find Niall before their final class.
The next week for Louis was spent doing some serious stalking. Finally drawing up the courage to actually send a friend request to Harry on Facebook, he had logged in the same night of the locker incident to see that he had already received one from said boy. Hastening to accept, he began trawling the timeline, registering a list of bands that Harry had liked whilst also keeping a subconscious tab on any relationships that may be advertised on his page. He was surprised to see none, and when “researching” his relationship status, he discovered him to be single. Food for thought he guessed. He looked up the bands he had noted, listening to some of their music and surprisingly not hating all of it. At least, if nothing else, he’d discovered some new music to listen to. Settling on the safe, but very unadventurous option, of a t-shirt and cd from one of these bands, Louis wondered what Harry had been thinking that day at the locker.
It was during this week he had also found himself staring at Harry a considerable amount more than previously – but more surprising, was the number of times he had caught Harry staring first. More than twice he had looked round to “check-up” on his favourite observation” as Niall had described it, and found Harry’s piercing eyes meeting his own. It was something that never failed to chase the air from Louis lungs, and whilst at first, he had looked away instantly, he was now experimenting with holding the gaze longer. Until, of course, Harry raised a suggestive eyebrow, at which point he had retreated to the blushing, fumbling, stuttering mess he normally was.
The last day of term came round exceptionally quickly. Louis entered his form room door, instantly met with the loud chattering mob of Christmas jumpered, brightly smiling classmates who were jostling round the rom exchanging gifts. Searching eyes didn’t take long to pin point the tall figure lurking silently at the back of the room, in his familiar slouch against a cupboard door. The snapback balanced backwards on his head allowed his curls to rest on his shoulders, as Harry scowled around the room, waiting perhaps for his secret Santa to approach. Louis, taking one final deep breath, began to push through the crowd towards Harry, mustering all the courage he could.
“So I actually played to the rules.” Louis watched as Harry turned to look at him, holding out the wrapped presents towards the taller lad, whose scowl had melted away at the sight of Louis, replaced by that now familiar, slightly dark, mischievous look. He rolled his eyes, taking the presents and smirking.
“Of course you did, little goody goody aren’t you?”
He tore of the wrapping paper, surprise on his face when he registered the band.
“Hey, I actually like them. How’d you know?”
“Telepathy. Obviously.”
Harry shot a look that personified the saying “fuck you”, before smiling, a genuine smile, at Louis.
“Thanks, a lot. This is actually really fricken cool so, yeah.”
Louis hovered for a few minutes, watching Harry, whose gaze had now shifted down to the floor. He seemed slightly distracted, and like he had completely forgotten about his part of the deal as well.
“So, my present then?” Louis probed gently.
Harry’s head snapped back up, smirk re appearing on his face. He stood up straight, moving slightly closer to Louis.
“Oh yeah,” He murmured. It registered in Louis brain just how tall he really was, the towering figure that was now mere inches away from Louis. Definitely within touching distance. Definitely inside personal space boundaries. Biting his lip anxiously, Louis looked up to meet the dark, lust blown pupils that were fixed intently on Louis lips.
“You drive me crazy when you do that.” Harry spoke, before crashing hips lips onto Louis.
Static. That’s how Louis would describe what it was like to kiss Harry. Static – blank, fuzzy mind that only replayed one thing, Harry, Harry, Harry over and over again on a continuous loop. Crackling static, a fizzing passion that burned in the roughness of the kiss, transported Louis mind to another place, forgetting completely the busy classroom they were in, being dragged back to reality only by the cold metal of the lip ring that pressed against Louis own kiss. Louis felt himself lean back against the wall, Harry moving closer with his hand pressed on Louis chest, deepening the kiss. The kiss grew hungrier, Louis leaning into it until.
“Mr Styles! Mr Tomlinson! That is NOT appropriate conduct in a classroom environment. Out, now!” Their form tutors voice cut through the air, the class silencing too turn towards Harry and Louis, now broken apart but with no chance of hiding what had occurred. Louis lips were darkened slightly in and evident indication of being kissed rather roughly, and Harry’s hair was more than a giveaway. As the pair made their way to the door, they earned more than a few wolf whistles’. Once outside, Harry smirked at Louis, only to be met with the same smirk back. Instantly, Louis was back up against the wall, Harry’s face only inches away.
“You’re corrupting my perfect record.” Mumbled Louis, eyes flicking down to Harry’s slighting chapped lips. He could feel the flash of Harry’s eyes as he felt those lips brush against his with a murmur of “Don’t pretend you don’t love it” before they pressed back onto Louis, the kiss much softer, gentler now.
“Oh, yeah, Happy Christmas, by the way.”
