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Flour Petal

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When he enters the kitchen the whirring of the mechanical mixer isn't audible anymore, despite it still being on. The first thought he registers is, "I'm covered in flour. I'm covered in flour, and there's a man with artfully tousled fringe and golden skin only interrupted by the dark ink of his tattoos in front of me."
Really he's not fit to be meeting the most gorgeous man he's ever laid eyes on, so he rushes to the loo, taking loping steps. Just as he's about to clear out of the kitchen his foot catches on the foot of a metal wire shelving unit. The storage unit crashes down with a clatter and a poof of flour.
Harry's face suddenly goes very, very hot, and he feels like he's burning alive and he thinks maybe that'd be a better alternative. When he finally brings himself to look up at the not so looming figure (he's really quite petite, isn't he?), he feels like he may throw up. He really can't afford to make a bigger mess though, so he just gulps. Harry opens his mouth, feeling a million apologies bubbling up inside of him but nothing comes out except for an, "Oops," as soft as a breath.
It's then that he comes to his senses and everything starts moving at a normal speed again. He struggles to get his foot unwedged from the corner of the rack when he forces out, "I-I'll clean it up! I promise, I will. It was an accident! I'm so, so sorry. Really I am, I'll make it up to you! I can make you cookies! I suppose you have enough of those though, don't you? Not that you're fat! I meant because you work in a bakery and-"
He's still struggling to get his foot loose from the structure when man cuts him off saying, "Hi," with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh yes! Hello!" And yeah, Harry's really fucked.
He offers his hand to Harry, bending slightly, exposing his collarbones and Harry definitely doesn't think he'll be capable of functioning if the man touches him, but he takes his hand anyway. He’s overwhelmed by how hot his hands are. Harry muses that he's a bit like the sun, all golden skin and warmth. Abruptly Harry realizes that he's not just supposed to be sitting there holding his hand (well Harry could argue otherwise, but he brushes the thought aside), so he scrambles to his feet.
"You alright, mate?" Harry nods quickly, not meeting his eyes.
"Good. I'm Louis and who are you?"
"Louis." Harry repeats quietly; Louis seems very fitting for him. "I mean Harry! My name's not Louis." He winces, already having ruined the chance of reviving the situation when he first opened his mouth.
"Alright, Harold. Well let's go get some stuff to clean this up then."
Looking down at his hands, Harry quietly says, "It's actually just Harry," like he doesn't actually want Louis to hear.
"Didn't realize asking your name would be so complicated," Louis chuckles, and when Harry looks up he winks at him with the loveliest cerulean eyes and grabs the crook of his elbow to lead him to closet that housed the cleaning supplies. This leaves Harry wondering if eyes that color have ever existed before Louis’s, whilst he’s dragged behind him.
Once they return to the kitchen, Harry very pointedly does not ogle Louis's arse when he bends over. But if he were to, he would have noticed that his bum was perfectly sculpted and deliciously toned. He definitely does not get distracted by these things either.
"Alright, I'll sweep the rest up, if you hold the dust pan?" Harry immediately drops to his knees and cringes at his eagerness to please him. And he definitely should not be thinking about pleasing him whilst on his knees in front of him. Bloody hell.
Harry attributes his lack of mental filter to his scruff and tattoos that create the whole hot, older guy look that's making Harry go mental. While Harry is still baby faced with soft hips and curls, Louis is a dark gold, muscular, tattooed man with beautiful bone structure.
Harry doesn't believe in love at first sight, but he does believe in infatuation at first sight and he's definitely suffering from that. It'll be fine as long as it's just lust and nothing more, or at least that's what he tells himself.

×××

"And his skin, Gem. It's golden. It hasn't been sunny in months! How does that even...and it stretches so nicely over his bones. His bone structure is so nice. He's so pretty. I mean he has tattoos and scruff, so maybe pretty isn't the right word...but he is really. He's so dainty, but he's magnetic, it makes him seem like he's everywhere." Gemma shakes her head at him, smirking.
"Well, you've never had a boyfriend before."
"Yeah, but that's just because there hasn't been a guy I wanted. It's always been easier to just date girls anyway."
"Harry, you're halfway in love with this guy already. You're really playing both teams, ey?"
"Yeah and I'm winning on both." Harry sticks his tongue out at her. She just laughs at him.
"Oh I'm sure, H. I bet you fell right into his arms."
"Or into a shelving unit." Harry mutters darkly.
"Oh Harry!"
"It was an accident!"
"I swear, Harry." He just groans.
"I don't know, Gem,” He whines. “I don't know how it happened! I’ve only worked there for a day!"

×××

The bell above the door tinkles, as he enters the shop promptly at 5 in the morning. He finds Barbara in the front, organizing the display of muffins. "Good morning, sweets. I'm going to have you help Louis out with a batch of scones, so you can learn how to make those. We usually get the churchgoers on Sundays, but it won't be nearly as bad as the Saturday rush," She says, whilst still unloading a tray of freshly baked goods.
"Ok, will do. Thanks Barbara!" He calls as he ambles to the kitchen.
He takes a deep breath as he enters. Louis appears to have been waiting for him, so he increases his pace to meet him. "Morning," Harry says cheerily, interrupting himself with a yawn and pawing at his eyes. He notices Louis's eyes are a bit bleary too. "You look a bit like a kitten in the morning." Louis doesn’t seem to register that he just spoke, so Harry doesn't respond, apart from his cheeks flaming.
"So what are we making?" Harry asks after a couple beats of silence, where Louis is busy measuring ingredients.
"Oh right. Chocolate chip scones, this morning." Harry hums, starting on the recipe and cracking an egg against the side of the bowl.
"Blueberry scones are much better than chocolate." Harry comments absently. Louis gasped, seeming a million times more awake upon hearing Harry say this.
"I resent that. Chocolate wins in any instance. I demand you take it back."
"Nope. Chocolate stuff isn’t even that great. Vanilla beats chocolate any day."
"Vanilla! You would like vanilla.” With being so sweet and vanilla in innocence, Louis internalizes. “I bet you like strawberry ice cream too." He wonders if his lips would taste like strawberries.
"What's wrong with strawberry ice cream?"
"Well for one, it has all of the mushy pulp of the strawberries in it. Also, more importantly, it's not mint chocolate chip."
"The mint is always too harsh in mint chocolate chip though!"
"Can’t handle the burn?" Louis winks and really he didn't mean to sexualize ice cream and make an unsuccessful innuendo nor did he mean to think about strawberry lips.
Harry just counts it as a successful morning because he was called a kitten and didn’t burn the scones.

×××

They fall into a pattern of Harry looking at Louis too long, while Louis's supposed to be teaching him the ins and outs of the bakery and the different recipes. This pattern constitutes Louis looking out of the corner of his eye at Harry, who's always staring at him wide eyes. This, of course, results in Louis smirking and Harry looking dazed, yet completely zeroed in on him.
The thing is Louis's never felt that anyone had a great deal of power over him. The minute he thought someone did, he fought to resist it; but with Harry...he doesn't feel the need to. He wants it.
Really it’s completely ridiculous that a boy who can't even get through a sentence without rambling until he blushes furiously is the one leaving Louis so affected. However, Louis’s presence has never been less than commanding.
He maybe feels a little possessive when he sees Harry laughing with a girl his age at the counter. A girl who he supposed would be pretty, if he was into that. Louis attributes the burn of jealousy in his stomach to losing control. Either way, some overly cheerful, giggly girl was not what Harry wants. He’s just helping him along, he tells himself as he takes large steps over to Harry, not sure what he's going to say, but determined to get him away from the offending brunette.
"Harry, come on then. I need you in the back." Louis interrupts, not formulating an excuse as to why.
"Right, yeah." Louis's not proud to say he grabs his arm to assure that he follows him to the kitchen.
"Hope your boyfriend likes the doughnuts!" Harry calls, looking over at the girl, obviously trying to make up for his abrupt departure. Always so polite. Louis releases his arm at that, stomach feeling tight. Perhaps, he overreacted a tad. He squeezes his eyes shut and brings his hands up to his temples, resting his elbows on the table and blocking the rest of his face.
"Lou?" Harry asks, but Louis just winces at the nickname. "Is...is everything alright?" He drops it, when Louis takes a beat too long to respond. "You needed me to do something?"
"Right, um scones. I need...scones." Harry gives him a long look before turning to retrieve the recipe. Louis wonders if he realizes that he has had all of the recipes memorized for years.

×××

It’s not until Barbara scolds them that they even notice they’re doing it. “Boys, I know it’s horribly difficult to restrain yourselves, but I prefer to not violate the health codes, so if you’d keep your hands to yourselves, that’d be lovely.” Really, Louis doesn’t appreciate the teasing light in her eyes, that scream that she knows something he doesn’t. Of course, Harry flushes red and immediately mumbles an apology, leaving Louis to smile to himself and pointedly ignore Barbara’s soft smile. Louis has to stop himself from moving along with Harry, when he takes a step away to obey Barbara.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow, ey?” Louis asks later, as he’s wiping the counter, cleaning his workspace before heading out.
“Oh I don’t have a shift tomorrow.”
“Right. See you at my flat at 8!” Louis calls behind him, as the door closes behind him. Harry figures that hanging out with a mouthwateringly attractive man is a better way to spend a Friday night than listening to Gem tease him for spending his Friday night in a onesie, eating icecream straight from the bucket again. He just has to get it in his head that they’re just mates.

×××

Harry was just being responsible really. It was a preventative measure to be getting off before he met up with Louis. If that involved some porn with a guy moaning out "Daddy" to a slight man who looked a bit like Louis, no one had to know.
"Shit, shit Lou, Daddy." Heat unfurls in his stomach at saying the name. He wants him to hold him down and coo, "Good boy," into his ear. He wants his small hands reddening his arse and his lips sucking bruises into his neck. He craves the sting of his beard scratching his thighs. He wants him to make him cry because it's all too much, too good. He wants everything with Louis. His hand speeds up until it's cramping and he can't control the groans escaping him.
"Please," He says breathlessly. He desperately shoves two fingers inside of himself and the combination of the two sensations are maddening. The commanding tone the man is using and the sound of the air being fucked out of the other is obscene. Harry whimpers, pressing his face into his pillow.
"Come," The man's order echoes through the speakers, and immediately white streaks trail up Harry's stomach. "Fuck."
His breaths slowly become even again and he forces his light limbs off of the bed and pulls his boxers up his thighs, despite the pleasant fuzziness in his head. He strides to the bathroom and turns on the water for the shower. He feels guilty for wanking to the thought of the older man, but not as guilty as he would if he popped a boner in front of Louis. He sighs and rests his head against the shower wall, letting the water fall down on him. After a moment, he washes his hair and scrubs his body, rinses, and towels off.
Standing in front of his closet he debates whether he should bother putting on jeans or just throw on sweats. He decides on sweats, since they're just lounging around Louis's flat. He won't overthink this. He won't. He’s just going to hang out with a mate. That was all this was.
Many deep breaths and a short drive later, Harry finds himself at Louis's door. He raises his fist to knock, when the door is opened and a dark skinned man, who looked straight out of an issue of Vogue or perhaps a god out of Mount Olympus, strides out of the doorway. Harry stumbles as he tries to get out of the way and the man reaches out to steady him. "Sorry mate. Harry, right?" He nods sheepishly.
"Louis's been raving about you, mate. He made me help him with his hair and everything, so tell him it looks good, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah I will."
"Good. You can just go on in." Harry turns, steps inside, and hears him call over his shoulder, "It's Zayn, by the way."
"Bye!" Harry wonders if he's imagining the smirk Zayn's donning, as he turns the corner.
Shutting the door, he turns to face the silent flat. "Lou?" He calls. There’s no response, so Harry yells, "Lewis! I'm not a serial killer, just so you know!" He feels a weight slam onto his back, as someone jumps on him, and he shrieks in alarm.
"Yup, definitely not a killer. My ninja skills are far too advanced for a princess like you."
"What's the point in being a princess, if you don't have a prince to defend you?"
"What, indeed," Louis sits there smiling at him a minute, while Harry looks at him with sparkling doe eyes.
Louis clears his throat, "Right, so I was thinking we could order pizza and watch a film. Does that sound alright?"
"Yeah, whatever you want, Lou." He nods and takes his hand to pull him into the living room. He pulls him down next to him on the couch. Louis sets Harry on a mission to find something for them to watch on Netflix, whilst he orders the pizza.
Halfway through ordering a large pepperoni pizza, Louis pulls the receiver away from his face and mumbles fondly, "Knew I shouldn't have let you pick the movie, Styles," when he sees Harry had clicked on The Notebook. Harry sticks his tongue in retaliation. Louis widens his eyes and fills his cheeks up with air, which sends Harry into a fit of laughter. Louis's watching Harry with his dimples and listening to his cute, little giggling and thinks he might be a bit in love.
"Yup, that'll be all, thanks." Louis hangs up and rests his legs over the tops of Harry's thighs. "Alright, go ahead and press play."
"Are you sure, Lou? We can watch something else if you want."
"I was just teasing before, love. I don't mind. This one's one of the better chick flicks anyway."
"You've seen it?"
"5 younger sisters, remember?" Harry nods because of course he remembers. He presses play.
They watch in silence, for the most part, the quiet only being disturbed by Louis grumbling about how cliché the film is. Instead of being annoyed by Louis's comments, Harry’s just unbearably fond. His chest aches from feeling his heart expand.
Louis meets the delivery boy at the door, when their food arrives and brings the pizza boxes into the living room. He grabs a piece and Harry reaches for one too. He watches Harry, who is focused on the screen, taking little nibbles out of the pizza and noting that when the cheese slides forward his eyebrows furrow in frustration. He wants nothing more than to kiss his cheek.
Louis surprises himself with that thought. He's not used to wanting more than sexual things from guys. Even with past boyfriends, he's never desired domestic things from them. He’s never craved intimacy, the way he does with Harry. And with Harry, everything already feels more intimate simply because it's Harry.
He clears away the remains of their dinner and stands with his head resting against the fridge. "I can't do this." Louis whispers to himself. He struts back into the living room, thinking back to high school drama and hours spent developing a stance for each character and then moving on to the way they walk. If he could stop making his feelings so obvious through his body language, he’d be fine.
He plops back down on the couch and tries to settle back into the couch, but he really, really can’t. It’s unsettling to have Harry this close to him in the dark and not have him close in the way he wants him. Electric energy is coursing through him, making his heart race. Harry’s completely unaware and absorbed in the movie, where Allie and Noah are now kissing in the rain.
“Not sure about your fringe.” Louis says in one breath, not hiding the fact that he had been looking at Harry rather than the screen. Harry’s gaze fixates on Louis and he reaches to fix his hair, but Louis sits up on his haunches and bats his hand away. Carefully, he arranges each curl, whilst Harry’s eyes remain on him. Feeling his soft curls between his fingertips only heightens his desire to touch him. The first thing he recognises after that is his lips moving against Harry’s. Harry reciprocates surprisingly quickly, like maybe he was anticipating it. He hopes Harry had been wanting it.
Harry’s lips part naturally for Louis. Every point of contact Louis has with Harry is sending these electric shocks through him. A whimper escapes Harry and God, he doesn’t want to breath every again if it means pulling away from this boy.
“Hey Harry,” Louis whispers against his mouth. Harry hums his question. “Your hair was fine.” He grins into the kiss and feels the heat from Harry's cheeks radiate off his skin.
The drag of Louis's lips against his is amazing. The incessant want in his stomach making him crush his lips to his harder. Louis pushes Harry down by his shoulder and straddles his waist, licking deeper into his mouth. He wants to touch every centimeter of Harry's skin and map it out with his tongue. He aspires to learn Harry's body, until he knows it better than his own. Harry grips his hips and Louis grinds down on Harry's thigh. Harry's hands unconsciously slip down to Louis's bum and squeeze. Louis breaths hotly into Harry's mouth. He lets the lower half of body rest on Harry and Louis subsequently becomes aware of his hardness.
Resting on one elbow, he turns Harry's chin up, to allow for better access for another kiss. "Lou," Harry says, pulling his mouth away from his. "Can I do something?"
"Sure love, what is it?"
"I um...just...can I try something?" Louis nods, looking bewildered. When Harry starts to move out from under him he touches his elbow to stop him. "H, what are you-?" Harry drops to his knees and places his hand on the button of Louis's pants, looking devastatingly innocent.
"Haz, you don't have to. Here let me," Louis says, whilst starting to pull him up off of his knees.
"No, Louis, I want to."
"I- Have you done this before?"
It's silent for a moment before Harry whispers, "No."
"You’re sure you want to?" Harry nods.
"Right ok, so you just-" Louis cuts himself off when Harry starts taking kitten licks at the head of his cock. Louis keens when Harry's mouth starts enveloping him. "Oh God. S' good. You just bob your head a bit and mind your teeth." Harry hums in response and it reverberates through his mouth. “H!” Louis pulls on his curls and pushes his cock further into his mouth until it reaches his throat. Tears spring to his eyes, but Harry only pulls back a bit before taking more down.
“Doing so well for me baby. Your mouth feels so good on me. Your lips are so pretty wrapped around me.” Harry whimpers and blurts pre-come. He wants Louis’s hands on him so badly, he feels a bit shaky. Harry taps his hip to signal that he can take more. When he hits the back of his throat, Harry attempts to keep his throat relaxed, but reflexively swallows and chokes a bit, but relaxes into it. “Can-can I fuck your mouth?” A twinge of heat’s visible in Louis’s cheeks. He looks a bit feverish. Harry nods and whimpers when Louis pulls all the way out, missing the weight of his cock on tongue. He slams back in and thrusts three more times before pulling out and coming on his face. He has saliva and come covering his face and Louis doesn't think he's ever looked as beautiful as he is with his pretty, little face all dirty.
Louis lays him out on the couch, whilst his muscles are still twitching from his orgasm. He looks hauntingly beautiful, completely wrecked like this. Louis thumbs away some of his own come as he leans down to kiss down Harry's body, whispering against his skin, “Thank you, Curly. You’re so good. Made me feel so good.” Harry whimpers, already worked up from giving him head. Upon Louis reaching Harry's pretty, little bum and licking against his hole saying, “My good boy." Harry's entire body reacts, shivering with pleasure.
Finally, Louis starts fucking him with his tongue, making him keen out these obscene noises. Delirious with pleasure, Harry screams out, “Daddy!” Louis stops for a millisecond, but starts fucking his tongue in and out with a new fervor. Harry's eyes are wet and he can't seem to contain the sounds he's making. He clenches around Louis's tongue and his movements meet Louis's when he comes with a cry.
Louis immediately pulls him into his lap and wraps him up in his arms. "Love, so beautiful. Did so wonderfully." Harry curls into Louis’s chest, but then quickly lifts his head back up from where he had rested it under Louis’s chin.
With eyes blown wide he sputters, “L-Louis, I-” He swallows quickly. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m so sorry, I honestly didn’t mean to. It just slipped out because before I was-” Blushing violently, he cuts himself off from finishing his admittance. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! I’ve made it weird now, I’m sorry.” Harry rests his forehead on top of his folded knees, to avoid looking at Louis.
Rubbing circles on his back, Louis tries to calm him. “It’s ok, love. We’re ok. I’m not weirded out. Is the Daddy thing a thing for you?” Harry covers his face again and makes a noise of distress. “Ok, babe. Shh, shh. It’s alright. It’s alright to like it. I was just-is that something you want from now on? We can do that, baby. I would like that a lot.”
Harry’s eyes shift up just enough to have a view of Louis’s face and he asks, “You-you would?”
“Of course, sweetheart. I’d figure out a way to give you anything you asked for, but I want this too.”
“You’re not just saying that?” He asks, with the saddest puppy dog face Louis’s ever seen. Louis leans down, kissing him, in hopes of getting rid of the frown etched on his face. “I’m very into it. Promise.” Louis speaks into his skin.
"I-It's just I want to be taken care of sometimes." His words pull at his heart; he clutches Harry closer.
“I’ll take care of you, baby. I promise I will.” Harry nuzzles into Louis’s neck, pecks his Adam’s Apple, before properly snogging him in thanks.

×××

Two Months Later

Harry puts his "Soft" playlist on shuffle and goes to curl back up in Louis’s awaiting arms. Once Louis's holding him again, he hums a line of the song quietly, whilst brushing through Harry's curls. Harry rolls over to face him and nuzzles further into his chest. "You're always so warm," He speaks into Louis's shirt.
A folky song comes on and Harry can almost hear Louis's complaints about Harry's affinity for obscure hipster artists, but Louis never voices them. He seems quiet. The moment is quiet, serene. It's peaceful and relaxing and Harry thinks they both may fall asleep eventually, but right now they're mesmerized by witnessing each other exist, learning the way the other breaths once again.
It feels nice, safe for him to breath in the smell of Louis's skin, not just his cologne. He smells like the freshly made cinnamon rolls that his mum makes in fall and the Pumpkin Spice candles she always burns in the house. He smells like home.
The music fades out and is replaced by the soft sound of piano keys being pressed. With a breath of, "Clair de Lune" (x), Louis's taking Harry by the hand to the middle of the living room. He gently places his hands on his hips and Harry automatically wraps his arms around his neck. "I haven't danced like this before," Harry almost whispers.
"I'll lead, petal." They're doing a simple box step, but Harry feels like they're infinite. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like crying.
The setting sun’s light floods through the shades of Louis's window and creates shafts of light across Harry’s face whilst they're dancing. And then they start spinning together faster to match the tempo and the music swells and there's a beat of rest where their mouths are an inch apart and they're just looking at each other, breathing into each other’s mouths. It's just for an instant, but it feels too important to be contained in a single moment. When the music starts back up again, their lips meet. It's not a lustful thing, it's simply because they crave the closeness, the intimacy of a kiss.
The dynamics crescendo into their full power and Louis spins Harry over and over again, before clutching him into his chest tightly. Harry's laughing, giddy from being twirled around. Louis ponders how his chest is containing his fondness and hell, his love too. That’s what this is. He’d thought he'd been in love before, but they have always proven to be temporary fixations and he realizes now what had been missing. And he needs to tell Harry now. Right now.
He needs to tell him that he loves the way Harry gets Louis to admit defeat is by chasing him around his flat until he tackles him to the ground and tickles him. (It never really feels like defeat. (Especially when he knows he can out sass Harry anyday.)) He loves that Harry rambles and gets flustered, but is simultaneously the most charming person Louis’s ever met. He loves how he can't be subtle to save his life and is almost always making moon eyes at him that look and feel like warmth personified. How does he describe the way his chest feels like it's exploding every time Harry tells a knock-knock joke that isn't funny? He's not sure how to convey all of the thoughts racing through his mind when Harry is mentioned, but he knows he needs to do it in this moment, where he's twirling him around in his bloody living room.
The last note of the song rings out, hanging in the air and Louis says the one thing that encompasses every sappy thing he’s ever thought about Harry, “I love you.” There’s a moment where Louis presses his nose into his shirt and prays that he hasn’t scared him off, that he hasn’t made everything that’s happened in the past few months up in his head. He was so desperate to have Harry know how he feels, that he’s not anticipating Harry saying, “I love you. So, so much,” in the most assured tone Louis has ever heard him use. Louis’s breath hitches and he cups Harry’s face, kissing him tenderly. “Ey, Lou?”
“Mhm?” He answers, eyes slowly opening, as he pulls away.
“Erm...so Gems kind of thinks we’ve been dating for a couple months now? And I never corrected her?” Harry murmurs. Louis grins so widely, his cheeks ache.

×××

“My parents have been asking about you, you know.” Harry intones quietly, with his back resting in his lap, playing with Louis’s fingers that are rested on his chest.
“Oh yeah? Have you been talking about me?” Louis winks.
“Well I mean, they have been wondering where I keep running off to.” Louis chuckles.
“That makes sense. Will I get to meet them soon?” Harry lights up.
“Oh please do! If you want to, you can come tonight! My mum’s been asking me to invite you over for dinner, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to….”
“Of course, I want to love. I’d love to meet anyone you care about.”
“So you’ll come tonight?”
“Sure darling. Just make sure you let your mum know, so I don’t surprise her.”
“I will.”
After a beat Louis questions thoughtfully, “Do they know that we’re dating?”
“I haven’t directly told them, but my mum suspects that we are, I think.”
“Alright. I want you to meet the girls soon too. They’ll love you. Wait till they see these curls of yours.” Louis takes a lock between with fingers, his entire face going soft. “Daise and Pheebs can actualize that princess characterization.”
“Do you think they’ll have a gown for me?” Harry smirks.
“I haven’t seen you in a dress before.”
“Are you into that?” Harry asks cheekily.
“I’m into anything involving you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Louis rolls his eyes, lovingly.
“Yeah ok.”
“Alright I best go help mum start dinner.” Louis presses a kiss into Harry’s hair, before uncrossing his arms from their position around Harry’s chest, allowing him to get up.
“Wanna come around at 6ish?” Harry asks as he grabs his coat.
“Sure babe. See you then.” Harry’s momentarily overwhelmed with fondness when he turns and sees Louis sprawled out on the couch in his skater sweats. He blows him a kiss from the doorway. Louis catches it and Harry thinks he’s made the right choice as to what boy to bring home to meet his parents.
Harry nearly drops the bowls he’s holding when he hears the doorbell ring. “I’ve got it!” Harry calls, as he sets the bowls down on the dining room table and scampers quickly to the door. He yanks the door open, knowing it’s the only thing between him and Louis. “Hi!” Harry sing-songs with childlike enthusiasm, letting him in.
“Hiya babe. Miss me?” Louis asks, smiling widely at Harry’s excitement.
“‘Course Lou.” He says, pecking his cheek. Louis does not blush.
Pulling him into the kitchen, Harry introduces Louis to his mum, who’s laboring over the stove. “Very nice to finally meet you, Louis.” Anne greets, with glittering eyes.
“Lovely to meet you too, Ms. Cox.” Louis offers her a hand and she shakes it, seeming surprised at the gesture.
“Call me Anne, love. I’m not old enough to be called ‘Ms. Cox’, quite yet.” Louis chuckles.
“If you prefer.” She nods, a small smile on her face.
“You can go on into the dining room, boys.” She points around the corner. “Dinner will be done soon.” As Harry takes a step to follow Louis, who has begun walking in the direction she pointed him in, Anne holds him back by the curve of his elbow and whispers, “You’ve done well with this one. Very polite.” Harry grins, encouraged.
Expecting Harry to run off to meet Louis immediately, Anne is surprised to find him still standing there when she next looks up from the boiling pot. “Everything alright, Harry?” She asks, concerned.
“Oh yeah, I was just...erm Mum, Louis’s my boyfriend.”
“Oh sweetie.” Anne drops the spoon she was stirring with, opens her arms, and pulls Harry into a tight hug. “Love, inviting a boy over for dinner after weeks of exclusively talking about him kind of gave it away.” She pulls back and holding his biceps she looks him directly in the eyes whilst saying, “I am so, so proud of you. You deserve someone to make you as happy as he seems to.”
Harry’s a bit teary when he says, “He does, he makes me so unbelievably happy. I’ve never-no one’s ever made me feel like this.” Anne hugs him again, kissing the side of his head. “Mum, I’m in love with him.” He tells her, breathily. She gives him one last squeeze and tells him to not leave Louis waiting. She promises to be out in a minute to properly get to know the man her son is so taken with. “Hey Mum?” Harry says, about to turn the corner and head to the dining room. When she lifts her head he continues, “I love you.” He wonders if he’s ever meant it as sincerely as he does in this moment.

×××

Louis stares at Harry intently from above him. He brushes through his curls, that are fanned around his head. "So pretty all time, baby."
"Thank you," Harry breathes. He sucks in a breath, as Louis ever so gently begins tracing his features. His eyes slip shut, at his soothing touch.
His fingertip carefully outlines the shape of his berry colored lips. "Your lips are always so pink, sweetheart. They're so lovely, it makes it hard to concentrate." After a moment, Louis continues, seeming entranced by Harry's body, "You've got the prettiest doe eyes too, darling." Harry's eyes blink open at that and they look glazed over. "And your curls, lovey. Always so bouncy and soft, makes me want to touch them all the time. You like it when I play with your hair, don't you?" Louis' gaze slips from where he's petting his curls, down to Harry's face, who is purring at his touch.
His pupils are blown out, barely rimmed in green at this point. "I-Lou...Lou, love you, please. I want you so badly."
"Hey, you have me. You’re ok." The light touch of his fingertips on his jawline is grounding him. Louis's looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and Harry knows he’ll have to state what he wants to get it. "Lou, I want to make love with you." Harry's cheeks burn and he averts his gaze.
"Harry, love look at me. Are you sure?" He nods furiously, with the widest, most earnest eyes. "Ok petal, Daddy's going to let you come whenever you want to, since this is your first time. Alright?" Harry nods rapidly and gasps out, "Yes, Daddy."
From Louis's position, he can see the expanse of Harry's milky thighs and abdomen and he wants nothing more than to ink his skin with bruises and redden them with his rough scruff. First though, he moves up to Harry's neck to murmur against his skin, "Daddy's going to take care of you, ok?" Harry moans, when his teeth graze his throat.
"I trust you. M'your's." Louis nods and moves his head back down to his thighs, breathing out, "Mine, mine, mine," over and over, between each love bite.
When a constellation of bruises has been mapped out on his thighs and Harry's leaking, Louis moves quickly to uncap the lube and coat his fingers. Louis enters slowly, watching for discomfort on Harry's face. His forehead pinches when he pushes past his rim. "Ok?" Louis breaths.
"Yes. I love you." He reaches for Louis and brushes through his fringe, resisting the urge to clamp his thighs shut, as Louis works his way up to 3 fingers, only letting out, "Ah!" when the third slips inside. "I'm good, I promise." Harry assures, before Louis can ask.
After a moment Harry adjusts and starts moving his hips down on his fingers. "Oh, oh wow. Lou."
"There's a good boy. Doing so well for me." He stops the rotation of his hips, breathless from how worked up he is.
While he's still breathing heavily, Louis slips his digits from his hole and Harry panics. "Wait! Lou, no please!" His eyes are wild, when he finds Louis's gaze. His rim flutters, as he tries to fill himself back up with something other than air. He’s nearly hyperventilating, by the time he rasps out, "Daddy, m'empty. Don't like it, don't like it." He reaches out to Louis, like he needs to make sure he's still there.
"Shh, shh love calm down. I just need a rubber," Louis explains, reaching for the bedside table. Harry's body goes lax at the promise of his daddy filling him up properly.
Louis rolls on the condom and watches the muscles in Harry's thighs contract as he feels Louis's tip brush against his entrance, before pushing inside, forcing a sobbing sound out of Harry. "Oh shit-" Louis bites his lip and his vision blurs. "Fuck baby, you're so, so tight." Harry whimpers. Carefully, Louis continues to slowly move deeper inside his boy until he bottoms out and Harry whispers in his ear, "Want to make you come so badly, Daddy. Want to make you feel good." Louis can't contain the moan that escapes him, as he desperately tries to stop himself from coming on the spot. “Baby, you are. You’re so, so good. My good boy,” Louis affirms breathlessly. Harry shifts to make sure there's no space between him and Louis and unintentionally clenches around his cock, making Louis shriek. Everything's burning heat and Harry's looking up at him with innocent fascination and Louis doesn’t know how to deal with that.
Louis pulls out and slams back into him so quickly that Harry can't catch his breath, but his body doesn't feel deprived, when he's getting what he really wants. That’s when Louis hits his spot and he yelps and he starts babbling, but he can't decipher what he's saying through the blissful haze. Louis registers Harry saying, "I love you. Please. Love you. Feels so good. Don't stop. Love you," pleadingly.
“Love you, Harry. Love you so much. C’mon baby.” Louis's thighs start trembling and they're burning and his boy has tears leaking down his cheeks and nothing has felt this right before.
Arching his back, eyes rolling back into his head, Harry groans as he spurts come all over their stomachs. Louis's vision whites out.
Their muscles continue to sporadically contract as they ride out their orgasms. Louis pulls out as gently as he can, stroking Harry's skin and hushing him. He gets off of him and pulls him onto his lap. Harry's chest is still rising and falling too quickly. "Baby?" Louis begins brushing through Harry's curls, trying to bring Harry back to him. "Harry, love? Need you to use your words. Are you alright, little one? Was that good?" Harry's eyes flick open and he nods furiously before he says, "Yes," sounding fragile. He reaches up at Louis and winds his fingers through his hair. Louis's upper back is rested against the headboard and from his elevation he can see the deep purple bruises on Harry's thighs. Louis begins covering his face with kisses murmuring about him being his pretty petal, making Harry giggle and blush shyly. Above everything else, Louis sees how much he trusts him. He’s gained Harry's trust enough for him to bare him his body and for him to be vulnerable in this way and there is nothing he will ever do to break that trust because he refuses to lose this.
They smile impossibly wide at each other and when Louis is sure his heart is going to explode with love for his darling boy, he leans down and gives him a Spiderman kiss on the lips. Louis knows he’ll have to get up and clean them up soon, but he's content in this moment and will be for however long it lasts. “Hey Lou?” Louis hums. “Am I your flower petal because I spilled flour on the first day? Like flour petal?” Harry giggles, drunk off of happiness and his orgasm, but mostly just being Harry. It feels like a forever kind of moment.