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I Wanna Bring You Home

Summary:

"What’s the chance you’re in an insatiable mood for milkshakes?” Louis questions.
Harry fully laughs and Louis swears it’s the sound angels sing. Heavenly.
“In November?”
“Oh, sorry,” Louis jokes. “Didn’t realize that November was national ‘no drinking milkshakes’ month.”
“Even if it was, would you abide by it?”
Louis chuckles at the retort, “Absolutely not.”
Harry’s smile is blinding, “Didn’t think so.”

 

Or, an au where Louis pathetically pines over Harry, and Harry may or may not give him what he wants.

Notes:

WOOOWWWW it has been so long! I'll be honest, I meant to only write a 500 word fic to dip my toes back in again, and this fucking story decided something different. What else is new, honestly?

Forewarning, this is so stupid lol. But I've been working on a non-larry book for over a year now, and I'll be honest, it felt good to write something less serious and more carefree. So, take it for what you will.

Also, it's not beta'd. Sorry!

Lastly, I love you all so much!!! I've missed seeing all your support and beautiful words and I owe everything to you all. :) Thank you so much!! As always!!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

   "

 

I Wanna Bring You Home

 

And I'm so impatient when you're not mine
I just want to catch up on all the lost times
And I'll say I'm sorry if I sound sordid
Cause all I really ever want is you

Offer my hand and I'll take your name
Share my shower, kiss my frame
Cause I wanna carry all of your children
And I wanna call them stupid shit

Hourglass; Catfish and the Bottlemen

 

Mr. Beautiful. 

At least, that’s what he's named inside Louis’ head of course - Mr. Beautiful. Louis doesn’t know who he is, not on a personal level at least, but he’s seen him every day since September. Now it’s November, which Louis is still grappling with, but nevertheless, it’s true. Which means that Louis has been halfway in love with this man for two months now. It’s a little pathetic.

Okay, it’s a lot pathetic.

It’s just...every time he sees those long legs poured into those obscenely tight black pants, or if he gets even a hint of his scent that is divinely sweet and earthy, as though he’s been rolling around in fields of lilies. Or. Or, if he catches a glimpse of those eyes, the same daringly green hues that have starred in one too many of Louis’ fantasies...Louis just, combusts? And not in a metaphorical sense like ha ha, he’s going to die. No. Louis actually goes in at the knees and falls to the ground, and yes this is dumb but this is his life. And yeah.

Once again, pathetic.

His coworkers think he’s gone crazy. Because every time that majestic being comes around the office to say hello to his friends, Louis runs off. He’s too scared to let anyone see him in such a weak state, especially after the first time that tragedy happened. Back in September, when Mr. Beautiful arrived on the scene once the big bosses newly hired him, and when he was highly praised for his capabilities to sell anything. They required his expertise to handle the good stuff, to work with the top-notch clientele listing their California dream homes for millions.

You see, Louis hadn’t always wanted to do real estate, he moved from Santa Barbara to Los Angeles for other aspirations, but realized quite quickly how expensive it is to live in this city, much less, on his own. While he was trying to pursue his dream of becoming a songwriter, he needed money. Thankfully, a close friend of his said the place he was working at was hiring, and by some dumb luck, Louis was taken in.

Because truthfully, Louis doesn’t work at just any place. The agency he’s employed at is one of the premier places to sell real estate. Not just anybody can come list, and not just anybody can come sell. Which is why everyone was so intrigued about the whispers of an outsider sparking their boss’s interest enough to chase him down for a job. That was basically unheard of. Which in turn, also made everyone all the more anxious.

The day they brought the newcomer around to meet some of the staff, everyone had been on the edge of their seats, waiting to see who this stranger was. Even Louis’ friend Liam, who he’s known since college and who has never been rattled about anything, was pacing across the floor incessantly. Funny to recall it now, how Louis seemed to be the only one who couldn’t care less about this person.

What can he say? Fate’s a bitch.

Because there Louis was, standing with Liam and a few others, nonchalantly chatting about nothing, when everything changed. The doors to the office swung open and in walked this adonis better than any of Louis’ fucking wet dreams. And not only was he tall, not only did he have luscious hair that looked like it could be whipped back and forth in a damn shampoo commercial, but he had dimples. Yes, dimples...or otherwise known as Louis’ ultimate weakness. His achilles heel.

The minute Louis’ baby blues landed on that unfathomably stunning man, he was in love - or well - in lust. And in that moment, that both amazing and awful moment, his knees replicated the actions of his heart by stuttering, and then stopping, and then completely going down.

Life could be so cruel sometimes.

He remembers Liam helping him back up, and a couple voices of concern, but Louis, once he got his bearings, stood the fuck up and walked the fuck out. To his desk, really, but that’s all besides the point. He walked away. And from that day on, after Mr. Beautiful graced his presence, he’s been doomed to this knee-knocking curse ever since. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.

“Hey, Tommo?” The call of his friend startles him from the thoughts he was engrossed in.

Louis chimes, “Payno.”

Liam rolls his brown eyes with a smile, as he strolls into Louis’ office. “A bunch of us are gonna grab drinks after work tonight, you in?”

Nearly every Friday a bunch of the staff go out to celebrate surviving another long week, but Louis’ been skipping out the past couple times due to family related things. He loves his sisters, and his youngest brother, but they could do without him for a little while longer. Not that Louis actually feels that way, but they all practically yelled that at him the last time he visited. His eldest sister, the traitor, sided with the girls and told him to go spend a weekend with his friends. “To live a bit.”

Apparently, watching rom coms and sticking to the couch for two days isn’t their idea of living.

So yes, his weekend is free. Entirely free.

“Sure, meet you at five by the elevators?”

“Count on it.”

Going to step out, Liam pauses and backtracks his footing, “Oh. Harry’s probably coming out with us too; he actually came out the few times you weren’t there. Uh, don’t scare this one off, I think the group’s agreed that we all like him,” he finishes before officially departing.

It takes only a few moments of silence before Louis wonders aloud, “Who the hell is Harry?”

Regardless, he shakes his head physically of the thought and devotes the remaining hours at the office managing his clients.

Eventually, the clock signifies it’s five and Louis logs off his computer feeling relieved to be done. As he makes his way to his destination, he notices that Liam hasn’t come over yet, so he leans against the wall and pulls out his phone for the meantime. It’s just when he’s about to play this high scoring word on the game, Words with Friends, that he senses another presence nearby. Thinking it’s Liam, he goes to say hello until his peripheral takes note that there is a very different figure looming to his left.

Mr. Beautiful.

The thing is, is that he shouldn’t, he really severely shouldn’t look up, but he’s so drawn into this man, it’s like his own body is forcing his eyes upwards. And once they reach their target, Louis’ reason to fight is thrown out the figurative window. Because today, the beauty is adorned in a pastel lavender sweater that looks so soft and perfect, that Louis kind of just wants to wrap him up in his bed and cuddle him for eternity. It’s bad. Thank god he was leaning against the wall when he glanced up because his knees have definitely buckled now.

What’s even worse, is that Louis forgets that’s he just standing there blatantly ogling the poor boy. Oh god, how creepy am I being? He panics. However, somehow Mr. Beautiful is not moving away or on guard. In fact, once Louis actually acknowledges it, the man is looking right back at him with a threateningly cocky smirk, playfully slathered on his lips.

Damn.

Louis is fucked.

Inevitably the elevator dings, tearing apart their eye contact and taking Mr. Beautiful away with it. But Louis doesn’t mind. This was progress. Significant progress. And he’ll take whatever he can get.

“Louis? You good?”

Behind his shoulder, Liam looks concerned as he’s coming over, probably because Louis is standing there staring at the elevator doors like an idiot. Which, Louis can’t really blame him for.

Nevertheless, reeling himself back together, he says, “Yeah.”

“Ready to go?”

“Been ready, Payno. Been waiting on you.”

Things return to ease after that.

The two talk and walk on their way to the bar down the street, and by this time, most everyone should be there. Opening up the doors, they find their group gathered round in the front, and as soon as everyone realizes it’s them, they all shout their, “hellos,” and, “glad you came,” specifically to Louis who they claimed to miss seeing out. Louis’ glad he came too, he likes this bunch. Even though he’s still pushing his songwriting, he couldn’t be happier being employed with these people. They’ve all been great to him for the past two years he’s been there.

“Oi,” Louis teases to the crowd, “Stop staring and get me a beer.”

They all chuckle at that before breaking off into conversation again.   

While he’s briefly catching up with some of the ladies on the latest gossip, a finger taps him on his shoulder. Turning around, Louis takes in an awaiting glass of beer being handed over and immediately goes to reply that he’d only been joking when a sinful voice says, “So we meet again... Louis .”

Louis’ knees wobble dangerously, but a firm grasp grabs him by the arm, “You okay there, love?” Mr. Beautiful asks. If he hadn’t been holding Louis up, Louis surely would have fallen to the ground at that. Wow. He mentally reprimands himself and forces himself to get his shit together. Louis wants Mr. Beautiful to like him, for the sake of their babies, of course. Er well, their future ones, that is.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Thanks.”

Getting back on his own two feet, he hesitantly takes the drink being handed to him, “Thank you for this, by the way. I was only teasing about it, though.”

“It’s okay. You can buy me the next one.”

Louis smiles, delighted to know that they could be talking long enough to have a next one. “Fair enough.”

“Don’t know if we’ve met properly,” Mr. Beautiful says as he sticks out his palm, “But I’m Harry.”

Willing himself not to stare at how wonderfully large Harry’s hands are, Louis refocuses, somehow only thinking for a split second how amazing they would feel on his ass. Which is a win in his book, honestly.

“Louis,” Louis meets the gesture.

The two get into small talk after about what it’s been like at their jobs, and sure, the conversation is pleasant. But...it’s also not enough. It’s just that, where they are is kinda boring, and the atmosphere is too laid back, and not to mention, he and Harry are around a bunch of people they work with. Louis needs something better if he’s going to woo this inhumane being and convince him to spend the rest of his life with him.

Asking before he’s really thought the plan through, Louis’ mouth says, “You uh...want to get out of here?”

Gratefully, Harry couldn’t look more interested in the idea if he tried. While his eyebrows arch in surprise, a pleasant kind of curiosity slithers into his lily pad pools, and Louis so far is counting this as a win. Yes!

“Erm, yeah? Why not?”

“Great! I’d say we should say goodbye to everyone, but we might get stuck here another hour just trying to leave properly.”

“I actually couldn’t agree more,” Harry chuckles. “Learned that the hard way last time I was here.”

The two rest their empty beer glasses on the countertop and make their way to the doors without being caught. Once released into the chilly night, they both step onto the empty sidewalk while Harry ponders, “Any idea where you wanted to go?”

And what a grand thought, truly. Why hadn’t he thought of it?

“Uh, right. Where to go? Hm,” Louis murmurs as he looks around the area, scanning for any inspiration. Harry stuffs his hands in his black, leather jacket that he pulled on as they left, and Louis can’t help being distracted with the thought that his fingers must be cold. And maybe Louis could suggest holding hands to keep them warm? Wait. Get it together, Tommo!

Right. Right. Plans.

“Oh, I have an idea! What’s the chance you’re in an insatiable mood for milkshakes?” Louis questions.

Harry fully laughs and Louis swears it’s the sound angels sing. Heavenly.

“In November?”

“Oh, sorry,” Louis jokes. “Didn’t realize that November was national ‘no drinking milkshakes’ month.”

“Even if it was, would you abide by it?”

Louis chuckles at the retort, “Absolutely not.”

Harry’s smile is blinding, “Didn’t think so.”

Just when he thought the laugh was hard enough to survive, Louis’ insides at the sight of Harry genuinely smiling at him are a wreck. His brain is actually screaming - MAY DAY MAY DAY! THE HEART IS GOING DOWN. I REPEAT. THE HEART IS GOING DOWN. EVERY ONE RUN FOR COVER, THIS IS GOING TO BE A NASTY FALL!

Yep, totally normal.

“So,” Louis ignores his body and says, “You never answered my question?”

“Well you see…” He drawls out teasingly, “I’m on this diet, so I’d only be willing to break it if it was the best milkshake in the world.”

“Well then be prepared to be amazed.”

“I don’t think you can meet my demands.”

“Wanna bet?”

Their eyes connect, knowing that the insinuation of their words has more to do with one another than it does the milkshakes. Louis wants to just kiss him right there, and maybe drop down to his knees and confess his love, but. But. Baby steps. He doesn’t want to scare Harry off. And that...that would definitely succeed in doing so.

So instead, Louis takes the lead of their newly adjusted plans, with Harry strolling alongside. Together, they pick up conversation again while they have a few minutes till they arrive at Louis’ favorite unknown place.

“So Harold.”

“Harry.”

“Tell me about yourself,” Louis ignores. “And not about that stupid shit like about work. But you know...what actually matters.”

Gasping, Harry dramatically replies, “How dare you accuse work of being stupid?”

“That’s cute.”

Harry bites his lips and chuckles until a more serious expression takes hold of his flushed features, “Well, there’s not much to know about me, I guess.”

“I don’t believe that for one second.”

“It’s true. I grew up in a home with my mother and my older sister, I sing on the side, and somehow got wrapped up in all this selling stuff right out of college.”

“People talk about you like you’re a selling god. So tell me,” Louis wiggles his brows, “What’s your secret?”

“I’d have to kill you first.”

“Then it’d be the most beautiful way to go.”

Harry’s cheeks turn impossibly redder, like a rose has kissed him, and left behind her fingerprint. “I don’t really have one,” he scrunches his nose in the most charming way possible. “I think the first trick is convincing somebody that what you have is the only one like it. That it’s invaluable. Then the second is convincing them that they need what you have. Once you’ve gotten them to believe that, the rest is pretty simple, really.”

“Sounds easy when you say it like that, but I bet you use a bit of your wonderful acting skills that you just demonstrated to me a second ago, huh?”

The giggles he emits are contagious. “Yeah, maybe just a bit,” he shrugs.

Louis is so endeared by how adorable Harry is that he might explode, but somehow, carries on as calmly as ever. “How did it start? You said you do singing on the side, but is that what you really want to do? I’ve been wanting to do songwriting, so I get that,” Louis confesses.

“Yeah, I did actually. And I tried,” he sighs, “But singing in bars every night wasn’t making me enough to eat, so I had to find something else.”

“Funny, that’s what happened with me too. Except I wasn’t playing in bars. Instead, I would leave my demos everywhere. And sometimes, I would sit outside of parties or other venues, and play there as people walked in and out.”

“Seems like we have some things in common, yeah?” Harry playfully bumps Louis’ shoulder as he says this, and so it’s only logical that Louis’ never going to wash his jacket again.

Okay, he’s being dramatic, but still.

“So it seems,” Louis smirks, “We’ll have to play together sometime?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Anyway uh, how’d you get caught up in the selling?”

Glancing over into Louis’ eyes, Harry answers, “I swindled a cop into letting all my friends go.”

“Harry!” Louis exclaims in a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, it was bad. One of my friends had cocaine on them, and none of us knew. But this party we were at got busted, and the cops had scent dogs, and we were all about to go down for this one guy’s idiocy. So…I spoke with the cop for a bit and not only managed to get myself and my friends out of it, but I got the kid who brought the stuff free, too.”

“Wow, what the hell.”

“Yeah. It’s sort of insane to think back on it, but we were all at college, and our futures were on the line, you know? When I realized how badly this could go for all of us, I sort kicked into overdrive and just did whatever I thought I could? And after, this random guy who said he had been watching from nearby, came over to me and gave me his card. Told me he was impressed with how I finessed the officer and that I could make real money with him if I wanted too.” Harry states simply, “I couldn’t really turn down the offer when I had ten dollars to my name.”

“What did he have you sell?”

“At the time, he was having me sell insurance. But I’ve sold pretty much every product out there, since.”

Louis nods along, firing off more questions as he does, “When did you switch to real estate?”

“Is this twenty questions or something? Do I get to ask you just as much when you’re done?”

“You can ask me anything, love.” Louis tags on the endearment, mimicking Harry from earlier to see if it would have the same effect on him as it did on Louis.

Side note - it does.

Harry clearly tries to ignore how crimson his face is as he clears his throat and answers Louis’ initial inquiry, “Okay, and actually, this job is my first with real estate.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m liking it the most so far.”

“Think you’ll go back to singing ever?”

“I want to. But I’m kind of nervous. I don’t know if I can put myself out there to get no response again?”

“That’s how I feel with my songwriting. I’ve got a few that I’ve sold, but it’s not what I thought it would be like.”

Harry nods his head, but before they can carry on, Louis realizes they made it to their destination. “Oh, we’re here.”

Pulling the door open and gesturing for Harry to walk in first, they enter the tiniest of restaurants, that has a long counter for stool seating and a few booths along the left wall. It’s older, and a bit run down, but it is Louis’ favorite place, hands down, to get a milkshake. He and Liam stumbled upon this spot one hot day last Summer, and from then on, they’ve made a conscious effort to come back. It may or may not also have to do with the fact that they befriended the owner, Mary, who just adores the two boys.

With the bell chiming of their arrival, a kind voice excites, “Louis!” From the back, Mary waves as she sees him, and walks over in a rush.

“Hi, Mary. Don’t mind us coming in for some drinks, do ya?”

“Not at all, I always love getting to serve you,” the older, curvy woman says, pulling a pen from the crook of her ear where it’s nestled into her greyish brown hair.

“Thank you, and oh,” Louis adds on, “This is Harry. Go easy on him. He’s a first timer!”

Mary grins, “Pleasure to meet you, Harry.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he winks charmingly.

“I like this one already,” she flusters. “Anyway, what’ll you boys be havin’?”

“The usual for me, and Harry? What would you like?”

“Do you have strawberry?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Mary nods, “Be out in a jiff.”

After she leaves for the kitchen, Louis turns back to the other. “This is my hidden gem.”

“Is it now?”

“Yes, and I hope you like it as much as I do.”

“Don’t think that’ll be hard to achieve with Mary being so welcoming and all.”

“Hey,” Louis teases, “Mary’s mine!”

Harry replies with a sly smirk, “Didn’t peg you for the possessive type, Lou.”

Lou. Lou. Lou.

“Oh, when it comes to the things I love, I’m definitely possessive,” Louis answers earnestly. Which is true. He’s not terribly jealous or anything, but just don’t try to touch or mess with what’s his.

Leaning in, Harry says, “Guess you’re not as vanilla as I thought?”

Repeating the movement, Louis gives into his temptation as he leans in even further, stopping only once they are sharing the same air space, “Oh darling, nothing about me is vanilla.”

Out of nowhere, Mary returns with drinks in each hand as she calls, “One strawberry milkshake for Harry, and one vanilla for Louis. Anything else?”

The minute the white, creamy shake is placed in front of Louis, Harry erupts in a tirade of laughter, causing Louis to groan as he answers the woman, “No, Mary. We’re all set. Thank you so much.”

She winks secretively before going back to the kitchen, leaving them as the only two patrons in the store.

Mockingly, Harry says, “Oh darling, nothing about me is vanilla.” And laughs all over again.

Louis throws his straw at Harry’s curls, unamused.

“Okay, okay. I get it! Ha ha, very funny. Just because I like vanilla shakes doesn’t mean I’m vanilla in bed, though!”

“Oh yeah?” Harry sweeps back in, a little too eager to pick this conversation back up where it left off. “Is it finally my turn to ask questions, then?”

“Only after you’ve had your first bite.”

Harry concedes, and wraps his sultry lips around the straw and sucks the end like he’s in a god damn porno. Louis’ being tested, he’s sure of it, but he keeps sane somehow by focusing on wanting to know Harry’s response most of all. But, if his cock twitches a little when Harry’s tongue peeks out, then well, it’s no one’s business but his own.

“And…” Louis asks.

Pulling back, Harry licks at the smile his mouth has stretched into, “Best I’ve ever had.”

“Knew it!”

“Not very often I have my expectations met.”

“Be prepared to be amazed then, because I won’t do anything less.”

An expectant sort of look carries itself into his face, as Harry undoubtedly replies, “I’ll be looking forward to seeing that.”

So will Louis, honestly.

However, before he can say anything in turn, Harry continues, “And okay, my turn to ask. Erm...favorite sex position?”

Louis chokes on his sip, “Going right in, aren’t you?”

“Gotta see what I’m working with here.”

“I won’t lie, I don’t have a favorite position, per se. But whatever I’m doing, I have to see my partner’s face.”

“That sounds awfully vanilla of you.”

Louis shrugs, “I like being able to see what I’m doing to them. How I’m taking them apart, how I’m wrecking them. You can see all that in the face. You might think it’s boring, I like to call it attentive. I’m definitely a giver not a taker.”

Harry swallows just a bit, and Louis follows the movement with his eyes, “Fair enough. Next one, what’s your favorite kink?”

“Depends on my mood. Sometimes I like to be tied up, sometimes I like tying someone else up.”

“Toys?”

“Have em all.”

Harry is looking a bit wrung out, and Louis’ feeling the same. This discussion has taken quite a turn, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

“Use them on yourself?”

“Not as much as I use them on others. What about you?”

Harry smirks, “My turn, remember? Tell me about your songwriting.”

“Well, that shifted abruptly,” Louis laughs, but goes on to say how he’s been playing the piano since he was young, how he used to upload songs on youtube, and spent hours trying to perfect his own original music. He talks about his family’s unconditional support and that if it weren’t for them being his constant cheerleaders, he probably would have given up a long time ago.

“Seems like your family is very important to you,” Harry states.

“They are everything to me.”

“Same for me, by the way. I’ve definitely always been a momma’s boy, but I don’t care. My sister and my mom are my best friends, and I can’t wait to have my own family one day.”

Louis can’t contain the smile that unfolds at knowing that bit of information, “You want kids?”

“A whole litter, you?”

“You’d think growing up with seven siblings would make me want the opposite,” he chuckles, “But I couldn’t agree more. I’ve always loved having a big family, and I want to keep that up.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Play me a song.”

Shifting his head to the side, Louis asks, “Which one?”

“One of your own.”

“Hmm,” He hums as he contemplates his choices. “Well, I do have this one chorus bit that I could sing for you? But I’m still working on it so don’t judge too hard.”

“Swear I won’t,” Harry emphasizes by crossing over his heart with his fingers.

Counting from three in his head, Louis clears his throat and begins.

 

And it's alright
Calling out for somebody to hold tonight 
When you're lost, I'll find the way 
I'll be your light 
You'll never feel like you're alone 
When I’ve got you on your own


“Yeah,” Louis sighs, “A work in progress as I’m sure you can tell,” he says once he finishes the bit.

“I actually really liked it. The melody and the lyrics, they’re all great. But,” Harry says, “Being completely honest here, I think your last line could have more impact.”

“I agree. I’ve been really struggling with that one.”

“What about this,” Harry suggests as he begins to sing aloud, mimicking the tune Louis had just produced.


You'll never feel like you're alone
When I’ve got you in my home

 

At the end, Harry’s mouth pouts, “Okay. Not the best, but I think you get what I mean.”

“First off, Harry, your voice is fucking amazing.”

“Oh god. No.”

“Yes,” Louis reaffirms to the wondrous boy, “And hang on, I like your idea with using the word home.”

“Yeah...yeah I like home, too.”

Over the next ten minutes, they continue to drink and adjust the line of Louis’ song, until they both have agreed on something that sounds acceptable. Ready to put it to the test, they count off again, and together, sing Louis’ song with the new adjustment.

 

And it's alright
Calling out for somebody to hold tonight 
When you're lost, I'll find the way 
I'll be your light 
You'll never feel like you're alone 
I'll make this feel like home


Entirely in awe from their undeniable ability to harmonize, Louis’ mind is a chorus of: I want to marry you. I want to marry you. I want to marry you. Their sounds blend so perfectly together, that Louis catalogs it as further proof that they’re meant to be. While he wants to declare just as much, he knows it’s too soon, so he tries to calm the bull that is running amok inside, buzzing off his endorphins. Instead, saying something less wildly inappropriate, such as, “I’m tempted to make you sing all my songs for me. And yes, that line, it’s perfect.”

Shaking his head, Harry retaliates, “Your voice is so much better than mine. I always really wanted to have that raspy quality that you’ve got going on. I think it makes a song sound more honest.”

“I appreciate that, immensely, but...agree to disagree.”

“I suppose.” Harry slurps the last of his shake, “And yes, I like that line, too. I think that’s more relatable cause all anybody really wants is a place to call home, you know?”

Louis quietly assents, “Yeah. I know.” Because it’s true, what Harry mentioned. While Louis loves his family, he’s never felt like that house was his true home. In fact, he’s still searching for a place where he wholeheartedly belongs, and so Harry is right. At least, about Louis. That all he really wants is a place to call home.

Summing up his feelings the best he can, he says, “Thank you uhm, by the way.”

Harry couldn’t look happier, “Anytime.”

“So uh…any other random things you wanna know about me?”

“Sorry if it’s annoying you, I just,” he hesitates prior to admitting, “I have this thing? I like to cover my bases when I’m talking to somebody that I find interesting because I don’t want to continue anything if there are non-negotiables.”

“Non-negotiables?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirms. “Certain political views, views on kids, or intimacy, or even just the definition of what it means to be in a relationship...there are certain things that I’m not willing to negotiate on. And I don’t want to waste time putting effort into someone, to find out on the tenth date that they have something I’m not willing to compromise with.”

“Would you consider this a date?” Louis asks.

“You tell me.”

This time it’s Louis who’s face warms, “I’d like it to be, yeah.”

“Then it is.”

“How well am I doing on your non-negotiables so far?”

Harry rolls his eyes, but it’s all in jest. “So far so good. Unless you’re a racist?”

“Nope.”

“Then we’re good.”

“Good.”

“I’ve just,” Harry exhales, “I’ve been with a lot of players in my life, and I know now that love’s not a game you can win. And you shouldn’t have to be fighting so hard to be with someone. It should be equal. They should want to be with me as much as I want to be with them. Simple. No need to get complicated, but somehow, someone always has to fuck it up.”

“That’s cause guys are idiots,” Louis adds.

“You’re not. At least, I hope you’re not.”

Laughing, Louis nods, “I’m definitely an idiot, but not with this stuff. I don’t date often because no one ever wants to be as serious as me. I’m ready to settle down if I find the right person, and every guy I’ve been with has this five year plan before the thought of marriage can even be said. I don’t like that. Love’s not on a schedule, and neither are our lives. We just have to go with the flow, and when something is right, you just know.”

“Well said.”

Harry’s compliment provokes him to duck his head, “Er, thanks.” Scratching his neck, Louis continues, “Didn’t mean to get so passionate about it.”

“No worries,” Harry reaches out and brushes his delicate fingers on the top of Louis’ jean clad thigh. “I liked it.”

“Well, I like you.”

Shit.

The two freeze, wide-eyed and surprised. Louis immediately berates his mouth for that utter dumbness. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. Did he not just talk to himself about not scaring away his future husband?

“Sorry,” Louis rushes out. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. I’ll uh, sorry. I’ll go.”

Leaving the money for their drinks on the top of the counter, Louis races out the front door, wanting to hide away from both Harry and his complete embarrassment. How much worse could he have ruined this night? Honestly? It was going almost too well. Louis should have realized that nothing is perfect. One way or another he always messes everything up.

As he’s about to cross the street, Louis feels a tapping on his shoulder, and he prepares himself to apologize to Harry fully for everything, but when he turns around, the only thing he’s met with is a kiss.

A strawberry saturated, unforgettable kiss.

“Woah,” Louis sighs into Harry’s mouth the minute they pull away just a fraction of an inch, until Harry’s body weight shifts into him as if he’s falling.

“Sorry,” Harry replies. “Weak knees.”

And now that, that’s just bloody ironic.

But as Harry had done at the beginning of the night, Louis holds him up against his body and steadies Harry there. “I’ve got you, love.”

When Harry finally steps away, brushing his long curls behind his ears, he confesses, “You know, I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed back there. I was just shocked, a bit. Because all night I’ve been thinking that I can’t be the only one feeling as much as I am? Feeling something so much different from anything before. I mean, I’ll be honest that I need to take things slow, at least for right now, because I’ve been burned before and I don’t want to be burned again, but Lou, I think there’s something here. And I - I do like you, too.”

“I must be dreaming,” Louis unconsciously mumbles.

“Nope,” Harry laughs. “This is very much real.”

“I’m so glad to hear that I haven’t fucked this up too much.”

“Definitely not.”

“Although,” Louis frowns, “On the basis of being honest here, I have to admit something too.”

“Yeah?”

Nervous to say anything, Louis looks down at the ground, pretending to be kicking something on the pavement as he speaks, “I’ve liked you for a while, Harry. And it’s okay that you want to take it slow because for you this is all new, but I’ve been here for a while, and I’ll be here for as long as you want me to.”

Tilting his head so innocent and pure, Harry asks, “You’ve liked me for a while?”

“Yeah, ever since that first day that you came to the office. I saw you, and you just...you swept me away? I didn’t even know you, but I was already so intrigued. Christ, I didn’t know your name even, I had just been calling you Mr. Beautiful in my head,” Louis shamefully adds on.

“You...you think I’m beautiful?”

Deciding to throw all his fucks out because there’s no point in keeping them anymore, Louis picks his head up and peers into Harry’s green oasis, hoping to convey just how fully he means what he’s about to admit, “No, I think you’re more than that. I think beautiful is just a placeholder because no word actually exists that could suffice in defining you. I think beautiful is too mundane, honestly. Too common, for how truly spellbinding I think you are. I think-”

Louis gets cut off by a needy mouth, and honestly, he’s alright with that. Except this time, he makes sure to kiss back just as feverishly, just as desperately, as the lips against his are. He makes sure to claim what he wants by placing his hands on Harry’s hips, rubbing his thumbs into the plushness that awaits. He makes sure to hit all Harry’s sensitive spots, by biting into his bottom lip and pulling on his silk woven hair. And he makes sure to open his eyes, just in time to watch Harry release the prettiest of moans from his breathless lungs. 

Due to all his fantasies, Louis knew kissing Harry would be unreal, but this, this chemical reaction between them is more akin to a nuclear bomb detonating everywhere their skin touches. It’s explosive. And the sounds? He could very well spend all night just finding ways to make Harry release that moan over and over again, but alas, Harry is the first to relent as he steps away to catch his breath and Louis blindly follows his actions.

“I’ve never been a ‘kiss on the first date,’ guy, but here you are getting me to kiss you twice.”

“Does this mean you’ll go on a second one with me?” Louis asks unabashedly.

“Thought it was pretty obvious from my declaration before?”

“Come on, darling,” he frowns, rounding his expression into puppy eyes, as he flutters his eyelashes playfully, “Boost my ego.”

Chuckling, Harry shakes his head at the ridiculousness of it, “Yeah, Lou. I’ll go on a second date with you.”

“Tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at two?”

“In the afternoon? Isn’t that early?”

“Not when I want to spend all day with you. Besides, tonight was only a sample of what I’m actually capable of.”

Harry quips, “I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.”

“Definitely a bit of both.”

“Somehow not surprised.”

“Also,” Louis charges on as he sticks out his palm, “Let me give you my number so that you can text me your address.”

“Right...” Harry drags out as he hands his phone over, “ Just for that.”

“Harold!”

“Harry.”

“I’m offended! I won’t do something crude like send you a dick pic. What kind of man do you take me for? Besides, it might impress you so much that it’ll be all you want from me, so if anything, I’m doing you a favor by waiting to show you.” He says while handing the device back.

“Oh thank god,” Harry exhales loudly, “I don’t know what I would have done!”

Together, their soft, endeared laughter creates a union, echoing off one another in harmony. Once it runs its course, they’re left standing on the sidewalk, glimpsing over at the other with nothing less than admiration. While silence intertwines herself between them, it’s not awkward as it settles. Instead, it’s comforting. A sign that they both had a good night, and that they both want to leave on a good note. Coming to realize the end is near and that they must depart, Louis takes the plunge by speaking up first.

“So.”

“So.”

“I think this is the part of the night where I have to begrudgingly let you go.”

Harry nods wistfully, “Think you’re right.”

“But not for long.”

“No, not at all.”

“Before you go, I have one last question.”

“I think you've exceeded your allotted twenty.”

Louis ignores him anyway, “Do I look like date ten material?”

“What?”

“You know, inside you said you didn’t want to find out on the tenth date someone was not worth your time. So. Do I look like someone who’s worthy of that? Someone who’ll be around for ten dates?”

Fond. Fond. Fond. Fond. That’s the only way to describe Harry’s expression, is fond, as he smiles beautifully, putting his alluring dimples prominently out on display, “Slow down, slugger. Let’s see how tomorrow goes.”

“Okay, but, just know that in my head you’re already the father of my future children.”

“Oh god,” Harry snorts. “We’ll see about that.”

Louis smirks, “Wanna bet?”

Harry rolls his green eyes, but he bites his lip in a way that says he’s daring Louis to prove him wrong. To prove that Harry’s wrong for thinking anything of the opposite. And Louis winks, one last time before they walk separately, implying that he can’t wait to do just that.  

 

*                          *                           *                           *

 

It obviously takes some time, but after telling Harry that he loves him, after having the song they worked on go platinum, after moving in together, after proposing, after getting married with Mary catering her infamous milkshakes, and after the honeymoon - they buy a house and they buy a dog. And finally, after weeks and weeks of impatiently waiting by the phone, they find out through the adoption agency that they have a match and then, and only then, is Louis proven right.

That Harry is the father of their future children.

And truly...he couldn’t want or ask for anything more.