Work Text:
Louis wasn’t technically supposed to be over at Harry’s, as they both had school tomorrow-Louis was a senior and Harry was a sophomore-and Louis wasn’t technically allowed to be in Harry’s room at the moment, as it was nearly eleven-Harry’s mum Anne had a ten o’clock curfew for friends on school nights-and it wasn’t technically okay (in Anne’s eyes, at least) for Louis’ hands to be tucked into Harry’s back pockets. Harry knew all of this, but Louis made him feel daring. Before Louis, Harry had been too obedient, too perfect a son, and-most importantly-too bored.Louis came along and lit up Harry’s world in a collage of breaking rules and crossing lines, moving forward into a side of life (ahem, mostly the ‘physical’ side) that Harry had never experienced. Louis had shown Harry how to feel good, and how to make Louis feel good, and how to slip past every line of ‘rebellious teenager’ and straight into ‘wild child’. While Louis had never done anything dangerous or moderately disrespectful with Harry (staying out late enough that Anne actually worried, drugs, alcohol, even driving recklessly), Harry now could sufficiently sneak out, bring the party to its peak, and-the best part, Louis thought-make for amazing sex. And Harry was proud of it. Now in Harry’s room, Harry shifted upwards on his knee, leaning into Louis’ mouth and adding some pressure, trying to take control of the kiss. Louis was a great kisser, and Harry loved controlling it. Just as Louis’ hands slid into Harry’s curls and pulled lightly at the scalp, Harry’s mum knocked on the door. The couple froze. “Just a minute, mum,” Harry called quickly. Louis didn’t even need telling-it’d happened before-and disappeared into Harry’s closet. Harry called out, “I’m decent enough,” to his mum, trying not to smirk at the thought-his boyfriend, in the closet. As if, he laughed in his head. Anne opened the door, carrying a basket of laundry and saw Harry on his bed, sitting up but leaning back on an arm. She saw how mussed up the bed sheets were, took into account how flushed her son’s cheeks were, how rapid his breathing was. She noted his eyes were a bit too bright and his lips were a bit too red from being bitten. He was wanking, Anne thought with a mix of embarrassment and guilt for having interrupted Harry’s ‘sexy times’. In the next second, her eyes took in a picture frame Harry kept on his bedside table: Louis had made and given it to Harry for their six-month anniversary. Most of the pictures were sweet (Harry, asleep with his head in Louis’ lap while the older boy brushed his curls; Harry standing behind Louis, arms wrapped around Louis’ waist and chin rested on his shoulder watching Louis’ sisters play; a picture Anne had taken from the window on their very first date, showing Louis at his nice car, having opened Harry’s door for him, looking pleasantly astounded when Harry had kissed his cheek for the gentlemanly gesture), but a few were what Anne (somewhat uncomfortably) would have to call sexy or even risqué (the boys were in a pool, with Louis pressed up against the pool’s wall because Harry was pressing close to him-Louis’ mum had called out “boys, smile!” and the boys did, just in time for the snap-or the one in which both boys were shirtless and had ‘tattooed’ the others’ name on their chest, or the one Gemma had snapped of Louis and Harry passionately kissing once Louis had made the game-winning goal for his football championship). Once Anne saw this, she immediately saw a frameless picture, left face-up on the small table, of Louis in just boxers and socks, blowing a silly kiss to the camera. Oh, my, he really was wanking, Anne put together. “Mum?” Harry asked, getting impatient as Anne looked at Harry’s pictures for what seemed like hours. Anne snapped back into reality and placed the basket on the floor. “Just some laundry, love,” she said sweetly. Harry forced a smile and quickly said, “Thanks Mum, really. I’ll come say goodnight before I go to sleep, yeah?” Anne noticed she was being rushed from the room and stubbornly stood rooted to the middle of the room. “Harry, could we…could we talk for a bit?” Harry paled a bit. “Oh, erm…sure, Mum. I-I suppose we could talk.” Inside the closet, Louis was hoping with everything he had that he was dead-on about what Harry’s Mum needed to say. He placed a hand over his mouth, just in case, and got comfortable. If he was right, this might be a long conversation. Anne sat down next to her son on his bed, and grabbed for a hand. Thinking twice about what her son had just been doing, she withdrew her hand back quickly and coughed. Harry was almost hurt that his own mother wouldn’t even hold his hand, but then realized this was not the time for oversensitive confrontations. His boyfriend was hiding in his room-he needed her out. “Really, Mum, I have tons of homework; could we make this kind of quick?” Anne nodded. “Of course, baby.” She took a deep breath. “Harry, you and Louis have been together for quite a long time, now.” Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew that, obviously. “Yeah,” he said with a fond smile. “Almost a year, now.” Anne nodded and smiled tightly. “And…and I know you’re a wonderful kid, and I love Louis, honestly. He’s a fantastic lad and a wonderful boyfriend to boot, and I really couldn’t be happier. It’s just…well, your father isn’t here to say these things, and I know you love Robin, but it’s not really the same when it’s not a…real parent,” she said delicately. Harry nodded, brows furrowing; where the hell was his mum going with this? Inside the closet, Louis had to plug his nose as well to keep from snorting. Anne continued on. “I heard him tell you he loved you when he left tonight.” She swallowed hard and smiled. “And I heard you say it back." “Yes…I love him, Mum,” Harry answered hesitantly, but with happy conviction. “Exactly,” she said, nodding. “And that’s why we need to talk about sex.” Louis’ heart and mind and very being roared with laughter and glee. Oh, his beautiful boyfriend was never living this down. “No!” Harry actually shouted. Quieting his tone, he tried to reassure his mother, “Mum, I really don’t-" “Now, Harry,” Anne interrupted, “there is no need to be ashamed. Being a virgin at sixteen is admirable these days! And I’m proud of you. But you and Louis are getting serious; I need to talk to you about these things. Let’s face it; Louis’ a good-looking lad and he loves you. As much as I hate it, you won’t be a virgin forever.” Louis’ lungs were dying to scream with laughter. His Harry was no virgin. His Harry, in fact, was a filthy little slut when it came down to sex with him. Harry could practically feel his boyfriend’s gleeful mirth radiating from the closet. Demanding his eyes not to glance over to the closet doors, Harry stared holes in the knees of his jeans, rubbing his blanket almost frantically with his fingertips, needing a distraction. Anne must have taken Harry’s reaction as embarrassment of being a virgin still, because she reached to gently tilt Harry’s chin up, making her son face her. Her eyes were gentle, warm, loving, and kind-Everything a mother’s eyes should be, Harry thought, just not right now, and not about this-and she smiled. “Really, Harry. I’m proud of you, and I admire the way Louis-is he a virgin?” Harry blushed violently and looked down, despite his mother’s fingers holding his chin. Inside the closet, Louis nearly choked and tried desperately to remain silent. “Erm…” “It’s okay, Harry,” Anne said, mercifully excusing Harry from deciding which reply was the proper one. “I have a feeling he’s not. He’s just to…I dunno…Louis, I suppose.” Harry accepted it, although wondering what in the world his mother meant by that, and (wisely) stayed silent. Louis was fighting what felt like a losing battle on the other side of the closet doors. “…And I’m just proud of Louis, as well, for not pushing at all, or being too, ‘Oooh, I’m a senior, let’s have sexual relations all day long because I’m older and know better’ about your relationship. It’s nice to know my son isn’t dating one of those people who wants sex around the clock,” Anne was saying. This time it was nearly Harry’s turn to snort. Coughing to cover it up, Harry turned into the crook of his own elbow and tried not to laugh. Louis, not wanting sex all the time, he thought with hilarity. Yeah right. If Louis doesn’t want sex around the clock, then neither do I (which most certainly was not the case). Anne smiled at Harry again. “I know this is awkward for you, love. It is for me, too, trust me. If there was ever anything I would call your good-for-nothing father for-“ Anne stopped, looking at Harry, and brushed her son’s curls from his eyes. “Well, he was good for something,” she said with a loving glow. “He gave you his dashing looks.” Harry threw his head down, ducking away from Anne’s gaze and fingers and smiles, trying not to blush or say anything (especially something angry, like, “No, you’re right, my father is good-for-nothing, and I may have gotten his physical traits, but I will never develop the personality ones!”). Inside the closet, Louis sobered up just a bit, now dying to reach out and remind his boyfriend that he was there for him. Instead of saying anything, he thumped Harry’s football with his finger, creating a dull thunk he knew Harry would hear. Anne glanced over to the closet in curiosity, but once she looked back at Harry, who was now looking back up at her with a slight smile, she decided she must have just thought the noise. Shaking herself mentally, she huffed out, “Anyways. I was doing some…research…online about…erm…well, about the ways you and Louis could possibly-“ “MUM!” Harry shouted in humiliation, which luckily covered the accidental little laugh that had slipped through Louis’ lips. Louis promptly clamped a hand over his mouth, and Harry buried his bright red face in his hands. “Well,” Anne floundered around, embarrassed and somewhat indignant and feeling like one of those uncool mums who mortified their children because they thought they were cool, “Well I just wanted to-to make sure you were prepared and that you, erm.” Anne took a breath, nearly as red as her son but nowhere near as amused as her son’s boyfriend, “I wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing, if you ever were to-or-or maybe that Louis knows what he’s doing, if he’s the more-well, I don’t know!” Anne threw her hands up in the air, more uncomfortable than anything else. Harry still hadn’t spoken, and was still covering his face. “Well, I see that Louis is the…more dominant one in general, but…well, you know what they say: “the man wears the pants; the woman controls the zipper”-and I just can’t help but wonder if maybe that’s true for-for gay couples as well. Because obviously neither of you is the woman, that’s not what I was implying at all-“ Anne was babbling and Harry was thinking of ways to kill himself in under three seconds, but Louis had fallen to the floor in Harry’s (luckily) clean closet and was currently rolling on the floor, laughing so hard that he wasn’t even making sounds. Trying to shut up quickly, Louis plugged his ears and curled into the fetal position. Harry clamped his hands over Anne’s mouth, stopping her words. “Alright, Mum,” he said, skin a color that wasn’t quite purple but was definitely too red to be classified as an actual red, “I’m going to tell you this, and I don’t want you to be upset that I haven’t told you, but-well, boys don’t talk to their mums about these things, okay?” He noticed his volume was a bit too high to be considered respectful. Anne didn’t even give Harry a chance to say anything; she shook her head stubbornly. “I bet you Jay knows everything about Louis’ sex life!” Harry blushed more and laughed; he couldn’t help it. “Then give her a ring and ask her if we have sex, why don’t you?” He nearly shouted in his embarrassment. Anne shut up. Louis sat up and shut up. Harry shut up, sat up straighter, and then immediately wanted to die. “Does…” Anne swallowed. “Does that mean you…and Louis…that you two…erm…” Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair. “Me and Louis are sexually active. Yes.” The room was silent. Harry was waiting for Anne to explode; Louis was waiting for Harry to explode (and trying not to explode himself); Anne was staring at Harry with emotions the boy couldn’t quite pick apart. Anne took a deep breath and Harry flinched a bit, internally groaning, here it comes! as he waited for his mother’s yells about morals and patience and respect. Instead, Harry heard his mother ask, “So which of you is the top?” “MUM!” Harry yelled again. Louis fell back to the ground again in silent laughter.
A few days later, Louis ran downstairs to open the door, expecting Harry. Instead he found Anne. “’Lo, Mummy Styles!” He shouted happily. Louis was one to forget about the past, even if it was a few days ago. “Hey, baby,” Anne smiled fondly. “Come in, come in out from the rain,” Louis ushered her in, gesturing to take her umbrella for her. “Tea?” He asked politely. Anne smiled as she held onto her umbrella. “Oh, no thank you, love,” she said both to the tea and Louis taking her umbrella. “I’ve only stopped by, I-“ “Oh, I’m afraid you’ve just missed my mum,” Louis said regretfully. Anne and his mother were best friends, and their mothers often came over to chat and have tea. “Oh-oh, no, I wasn’t coming for her, but thank you,” she said. Louis didn’t answer, letting his confused expression ask his question for him. “Oh-right, silly me.” Anne fumbled in her purse and held out a small box to Louis. She stepped closer to Louis and whispered, “Call it a mother’s intuition, but I think you and Harry…well, I think you might be needing these.” Louis took the box and burst out laughing. A box of condoms. Louis’ boyfriend’s mum had bought him flavored condoms. Not only that, these were Harry’s favorite-strawberry. Anne looked at Louis, a mix between confused and amused, and Louis tried to taper back his laughter. “Oh, thank you, Mum,” he said to her. Still chuckling, he opened his arms and Anne stepped into his embrace. “Be sure you use those,” she warned. As if remembering something, she leaned back and looked at Louis. “Unless they-I mean-they’ll fit, won’t th-“ “Alright, Mumma Styles,” Louis called loudly, “Thank you for stopping by. You’re coming back ‘round for dinner tonight, right? My Mum’s got a wonderful mean planned for tonight.” Anne seemed to realize she shouldn’t press for any more information, and replied with a smile, “Oh, of course, love. I’ll bring the dessert.”“Right, then. Give me some sugar,” Louis said cheekily to rid the moment of awkwardness. He leaned down and Anne laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Louis bid her goodbye and pulled out his phone.
You’ll never guess what your Mum just did!:D LOL