Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Two souls but with a single thought. 

Two hearts that beat as one” 

- John Keats

The alert on Harry’s phone is haunting him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, then slams his hand against the steering wheel of his Range Rover. “Fuck, shit, wank, fuck, bollocks. Fuck.”

Fuck. 

He’s fucked. 

As if to taunt him, his phone chooses that exact moment to sync with his car speakers via bluetooth, and the reminder is read out in an infuriating tinny voice that only serves to make him growl louder. 

Reminder: 07 days until rut begins.

“Fuck,” he yells even louder, even though there’s no one around to hear him, and then he does what he always does when he’s having a crisis. 

He calls Niall. 

A problem shared is a problem halved, after all. 

Plus, in his humble opinion, this is entirely Niall’s fault. 

“Niall,” he hisses down the phone. “I do pay you decent money, don’t I? Enough for you to do your job properly, I hope.”

Niall roars with laughter. “You pay me well enough, H. Why, what haven’t I done?”

“Oh nothing, just booked the most important photoshoot of my entire career at the same time as my rut—no big deal,” Harry coos, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s next week, according to my calendar.” 

There’s silence from the other end, then Niall lets out a long slew of swear words. Harry hears him typing away at his keyboard rather frantically. “What the shitting hell?” he barks. “ How has this happened? What the shit ?”

“I know,” Harry shouts. “What do we do?”

“Good fucking god,” Niall wails. “Everything is in place for this fucking shoot. It’s all I’ve been working on for weeks, bro. And it’s your album cover! You can’t miss it because it’ll push the music video filming back and it’s been so difficult getting a full four days that Alessandro can do and it just can’t happen. It just can’t. I’m not risking anything that could push back your album release.”

“I might have to, though,” Harry mumbles glumly. “I don’t have a choice…”

“Drugs?” Niall interrupts with a shout. “Are there drugs you can take that can delay it?”

“Well… yes but I’ve never used them before,” Harry stammers. “I mean, yeah, let’s look into it, but I’m pretty sure we’ve established before I can’t take them because of the asthma medication I’m on…”

“Or hang on,” Niall says, his typing getting loud again. “How long is your rut normally?”

Harry shrugs. “Like three days?”

“So you just run the risk of the last day having some crossover?”

“Yeah, but I can’t get on a plane while I’m in rut, Ni, for the love of god. Not even if it’s only the last day.”

“Leave it with me,” Niall says, then promptly hangs up. Harry sighs and slumps over his steering wheel, head in his hands. 

Sometimes having Niall as his manager is the best thing in the world, because they’ve known each other for pretty much their entire lives so Harry isn’t even embarrassed to talk about ruts with him. It’s not that he’s embarrassed anyway, but it’s absolutely one of his least favourite parts about being an alpha, the fact that twice a year he gets horny and rabid and wants to fuck everything with a pulse. 

Sometimes it sucks because Niall is the most beta of the betas; he’s married to one, he’s part of a family that hasn't been anything other than betas, and it fucking shows. He often forgets that things like ruts are even a thing, so when they do happen, it’s like it’s brand new information to him each time. 

He sighs, long and heavy, and then starts his car because he can’t sit and mope in a car park any longer. He sets up the sat nav and programmes it for home, then sets off on his hour or so long car ride home from today’s photoshoot. 

Niall calls back about ten minutes later. 

“How would you feel about hiring an omega to help you through your rut?” is what he opens with. 

Harry stalls his car. “I’m sorry, what?” he practically shouts as he hurries to restart it, then nearly breaks the gear stick with the force he uses to get it back into first. “Fucking hell, Niall, have you gone completely insane?”

“You alright, H?” Niall cackles as Harry finally regains the ability to drive. “Okay, but hear me out please. I think this could work.”

“ Niall.” Harry hasn’t ever been this stunned at one of Niall’s suggestions, and that includes the time he tried to get them to hitchhike to London when they were 14 for a Steps concert. “You better have a bloody good reason behind this suggestion, let me tell you that.”

“Well,” Niall starts, and he sounds alarmingly pleased with himself. “I’ve done a bit of research and I’ve found an agency for it. Super exclusive it is; the omega would sign an NDA and they get paid for their time handsomely. It seems like a great fit for your needs.”

“Yes, but what needs are you on about?” Harry asks, baffled. “My rut is still happening whether there’s an omega with me or not.”

“Isn’t it typically shorter when it’s with an omega?” Niall probes. “So hopefully you’d be finished and ready to fly on Friday as planned?”

“Well, I mean… Niall, I haven’t spent my rut with anyone else in years. I don’t know if being with an omega would shorten it by that much.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Niall asks, and Harry can tell by his tone that he already knows the answer. 

“Not yet,” Harry admits. “Fuck, Niall. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Harry, my gorgeous darling, it’s a brilliant idea,” Niall proclaims. “You get your rocks off, it shortens your rut, and nobody is any wiser except you and me.”

Harry sighs. He’s been a while since he’s had sex, it’s true, and he wouldn’t be averse to the idea. He’d kind of made a pact with himself that he was going to stop sleeping around, but he’d told himself that when he was drunk at Niall’s wedding and feeling a bit mopey about being there alone, and to be fair to himself he has stuck to it up until now.  

It’s been a very long time since he’s spent his rut with an omega companion, especially since he went on anxiety medication a few years ago that reduced his ruts to only once, sometimes twice a year. This is the only rut he’s due to have for about nine months, so the next won’t be until next March. 

And Niall has a point—it’s well-known and accepted at this point that ruts and heats spent with partners shorten the amount of time spent in that state, which became even more accepted once the government introduced up to two days paid leave every three months for alphas and omegas to spend with their partners if necessary on top of standard Rut/Heat Leave. 

Harry doesn’t have a standard job by any stretch of the imagination, so this isn’t going to be easy. But he trusts Niall to make sure the appropriate documents are signed to keep the experience anonymous, and at this point he’s too wound up and nervous to say no. 

He can’t risk anything jeopardising the photoshoot because the whole thing has been so meticulously planned to a certain timeframe. The whole thing has been quite overwhelming in a way things haven’t been for a while, so he’s not surprised that he didn’t pick up on his rut coming. 

He can’t believe he’s about to agree to this. 

“I want two NDAs,” he stutters out. “One for the rut itself and one for the omega to sign long-term. And I trust you’re going to use an agency?”

“Atta boy,” Niall shouts proudly. “Of course there will be NDAs, mate. Bulletproof NDAs for something like this. And yeah, don’t you worry about that. And like I said, I’ve found the perfect agency. It’s super high end, super discreet.”

“God, I can't believe I’m doing this,” Harry mutters. He slows down so he can pause at some traffic lights and he catches a look at himself in his rear view mirror, and he shakes his head. His mother would kill him if she knew he was doing this. 

“I’m on the site now,” Niall tells him, “So if you’re having thoughts speak now or forever hold your peace.” He click-clacks away at his keyboard. “Do you want to have a look at a selection and take your own pick or do you trust me to choose for you?”

“God,” Harry moans again. “No, you pick. I can’t do it or I’ll chicken out.” He shakes his head even though Niall can’t see him. “You… I mean, you know my type as well as anyone.”

“I do, I do,” Niall agrees solemnly. “Male or female? Do you even have a preference on that?”

“I don’t want any say.” This conversation is really starting to stress him out now. “Just… you know me. Just go with your gut.”

“Sure,” Niall says, and as always he doesn’t press, which Harry always appreciates from home. “Leave it with me and I’ll email all the information over to you tomorrow morning when it’s all sorted.” More typing. “The only thing I need from you is an up to date sexual health screening. You got one of those?”

God. 

“Yeah,” Harry croaks. “I have one at home in my office somewhere from a few weeks ago.”

“Perfect,” Niall says. “If you can send that over when you get home, I’ll get it all finalised for you.” There’s a pause. “Hey, H. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You can say no now and we’ll both forget this conversation ever happened.”

“But what’s the alternative, Ni?” Harry asks, voice edging on desperate. “I’m not risking cancelling this so let’s just… let’s just do it and then I can’t wuss out of it, alright?”

“Good lad,” Niall says. “Don’t worry, H. It’ll be absolutely fine, I promise. When have I ever led you wrong? Hopefully never.”

At least ten times that Niall has led him wrong spring to mind, but he doesn’t say anything. “Thanks, Ni,” he says instead. “I truly don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

“Book fewer photoshoots during your rut, probably,” Niall laughs. “Hey, are you on your way home now? How was today?”

Harry shrugs. “Fine. Successful. We’ve got six outfits lined up for next week and Ben is sending you over the pictures tonight. Alessandro wants them sent over by Friday.”

“Yeah, all sorted,” Niall says. “I’ll text you when I’ve signed them off, but I trust that you have made good choices and all. Not that it’s really anything to do with me.”

Harry smiles. He really doesn’t know where he’d be without Niall. Probably somewhere with limited creative freedom, which makes him shudder at the very idea. “Cheers, Ni. Here, I’ll let you get off for the evening, yeah? Give Hailee a squeeze for me.”

“Will do,” Niall says cheerily, “Night, babes, text me when you’re home.” 

He hangs up and Harry spends the rest of the drive home in a bit of a daze. 

He can’t quite believe he’s signed up for this and he can’t quite believe it’s all happened so quickly. 

What the fuck is he doing?

He knows Niall told him not to stress, but it’s definitely easier said than done. His mind feels like it’s racing at a thousand miles an hour for the rest of the drive home and when he finally gets back to his home, he goes straight into the kitchen and pours himself a stiff drink. 

For the rest of the week it’s pretty much all he can think about. What if the omega doesn’t warm to him and they have a miserable time? What if he’s forgotten how to have sex properly? What if he’s too rough, too needy, or even too boring in bed? What if it doesn’t have the desired result and he ends up making them late for his own photoshoot, setting multiple people behind by weeks?

God, sometimes he feels like he shouldn’t even be considered an alpha when he’s so bad at being one; but he is one and he’s got to suffer through his rut whether he’s happy about it or not, and it’s only three days of his life. It’ll be over before he knows it and then he’ll move on with his life, ready to find himself an omega to settle down with and pretend this never happened. 

That’s what he keeps telling himself anyway. 

On said day, Harry finds himself stress cleaning the flat for the better part of the morning. He’s antsy in the way he always is when he knows his rut is due, like his skin is too tight on his bones and he doesn’t feel quite like himself. 

He feels a bit like he’s in a daze, yet he’s running out of things to do to distract himself—his bags for the next two weeks are packed, meals for them to heat up and eat during his time in rut prepped, fresh sheets are on his bed, and all the rooms in his flat deep cleaned. 

It’s been so long since he’s spent his rut with an omega. In fact, he hasn’t been with one since Sixth Form, so he can’t help but speculate on what it’ll be like. It’s been a worry of his since Niall booked this that he’s going to get an omega who buys into his lothario image, which makes him nervous. He hopes he doesn’t have someone who’s only doing this to say they slept with Harry Styles, either. 

He shakes his head, trying to shake that thought from his mind. He doesn’t even need to check with Niall that the NDAs will have been signed, so he tries to forget all about it because this exchange doesn’t need to be anything he doesn’t want it to be. 

It’s a totally legal, totally approved service that he’s paying for, and a discreet one at that, and it’s just to serve a purpose. It’s clinical and utilitarian and afterwards he doesn’t have to see or even think about this omega ever again. 

Then there’s a knock on Harry’s door and that’s when he smells him for the first time.

It’s the most incredible smell Harry’s ever smelt in his entire twenty-four years of life. 

It’s soft but it’s overpowering at the same time, like cakes baking in the oven, like being outside in the summertime, like walking into your house for the first time after a long trip away. 

It smells like… home, which is stupid because it’s his home they’re in, but he can’t think of another word to use.

A primal snarl threatens to tumble out of him, but he forces it back down. For fuck’s sake, he doesn’t have a clue who is outside that door, doesn’t even know yet if it’s a man or a woman, he doesn’t need to go all feral alpha and stupid on them. But he has to open the door, he needs to see who this smell belongs to, because he wants to smell it every day for the rest of his life.

He opens the door and sees him.

The omega in front of him is male, that’s the first thing he notices. The second thing he notices is that he’s petite, shorter than him by a good bit and probably just the right height to tuck under his arm, and slim. He’s wearing an oversized white hoodie over black Adidas leggings, has a duffel bag at his feet, and he looks soft, that’s the only word Harry can think to describe him. He’s pretty too, and he offers Harry a dazzling smile and a shy little wave.

“Hello,” he greets, holding out his hand for Harry to shake. “You must be Harry. My name is Louis.”

“Hi Louis,” Harry says, using all his self-control to keep his voice nice and level. “I am Harry, yeah.” His hand is so small. “Come on in.”

Louis nods and follows Harry inside the flat, stepping past Harry into the foyer while Harry deadlocks the door from the inside. “Nice place,” he remarks with a whistle. 

“I like it,” Harry replies dumbly, then clears his throat. “Sorry, like, I’m not trying to lock you in or anything. It’s just, like... “ He gestures vaguely to himself. “Security and all that.”

Louis nods. “I get it, don’t worry.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “I, um, I have a few things I need to say before we get any further, if you don’t mind.”

Harry nods. “Sure.”

Louis clears his throat. “My name is Louis and I am your O-For-Hire for the period of your rut. You should have already received, signed, and returned a contract saying you’re happy with the terms and conditions of hire?” Harry nods. “Perfect. There are a few ground rules we ask you to follow. Kissing is okay, but bonding is an absolute hard no. If anything to that degree happens, you are legally responsible and in breach of contract; therefore, you may be arrested and subsequently charged. Am I clear on that?”

Harry wonders if his face shows how horrified he feels at the very idea. “I would never,” he gapes at him. “God, does that…?”

Louis shrugs. “Can’t be too careful in this industry.” He clears his throat. “While you’re in your rut state, I am happy to let you penetrate me and knot me as needed, but if you’re going to knot me you must wear a condom. I trust you to be clean and have returned proof of this along with the contract you signed?” Harry nods again. “Good. Do you want me to cook you food as well or do you have meals prepped in the fridge?”

Harry blinks at him. “I have meals prepped for us both. I didn’t think you’d want to cook.”

Louis shrugs again. “People expect different things from us during these visits. I just like to be clear.” He swipes his phone unlocked and opens an app for Harry to see. “My phone stays on the side of the bed at all times with this app open. If at any point I feel unsafe or like our activity needs to stop, then I will shout a command out that my phone will hear and my time with you is instantly terminated. Someone will come and assist me in leaving and you’ll still be charged for one hundred percent of my time. Is that clear?”

“Fucking hell,” Harry mutters, shaking his head. He appreciates that these disclaimers need to be said, but it makes him feel awful that Louis even has to say these things in the first place. “Of course, yeah, whatever you need.” He shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I’m usually, like, lucid enough during ruts anyway for you to be able to talk to me if I am doing something you don’t want, but yeah.”

Louis nods, just once. “Okay, thank you. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

“Are you okay with scenting?” Harry has to ask. Anything he can do to get more of that delicious scent, honestly. “And just generally, like, being held?”

“Scenting is fine,” Louis agrees. “Being held is also fine, but not to the point where, like, you stop me going for a wee or for a shower, or whatever.”

“No, of course not,” Harry says. “Okay, cool.” Silence lapses between them awkwardly for a moment before he speaks again. “I, um, I won’t do anything like that, I promise. I know you may very well have heard it all before, but I won’t. Despite how the media portray me, I think I’m actually pretty nice.”

That makes Louis crack a smile. “I was wondering when would be an alright time for me to mention that you’re Harry Styles.”

Harry laughs and waves awkwardly. “Yes, I am him.” Then he coughs. “Hope that’s okay.”

Louis snorts. “No, it’s awful,” he drawls, then his eyes flit up and down Harry’s body, drinking all of him in. “You’re hideous. It hurts my eyes.”

Harry snorts — he likes an omega with a bit of humour and mirth to him. “I’m sure you’d also love to know that I have a really great personality too.”

Louis giggles into the back of his hand. “Oh, I’m sure you do, pop star.” He takes another step back. “Not gonna lie, you’re taller in real life than you look in your pictures.”

“I’m not even that tall,” Harry grumbles, fake offended. “How tall did you think I was?”

“Dunno, but look.” Louis steps closer and the top of his head barely touches Harry’s shoulder. “Maybe I’m just shorter than I thought I was.”

“I like your height,” Harry insists, then he curses himself internally. If that was an attempt at flirting, it was fucking hideous. 

I like your height?

Louis bursts out laughing. “Such an alpha compliment,” he chortles. “I think we’re going to have fun, you and I.”

“I hope so,” Harry admits. “I’m so sorry if I’m being a bit awkward, that was… a really weird thing to say, I do apologise.”

“Babe, one time an alpha said to me I reminded him of a squirrel and that my teeth were cute in a bid to get me to sleep with him.” Louis leans against the wall and waggles his eyebrows. “I think you’re fine.”

“Wow, okay.” Harry barks an awkward laugh, then tilts his head to the right, towards the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink or anything? Some food?”

Louis looks him up and down. “How are you feeling, like, within yourself?”

“Overall or in regards to my rut?” Harry asks cheekily. 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Well, basically, I’m hungry and I’m gasping for a cup of tea but I don’t want to settle down to a nice plate of spaghetti bolognese only to end up getting fucked against the kitchen counter.”

Taken aback by his bluntness, Harry shakes his head wildly. “No, bloody hell, no. We have time.”

“Yeah?” Louis tilts his head to one side, questioning. “Do you feel like you’re, like, good to cook or do you want to order in?”

“I’m pretty alright now, just feeling a bit antsy,” Harry admits. His fingers are itching to touch so he links them behind his back. “Got a couple of hours to go before it properly kicks in, I reckon.”

Louis nods. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet,” Harry says. “I was waiting for you to get here so we could eat together. Then I know we’re both well fed before… you know.”

Louis giggles and Harry’s heart feels happy. “Come on then,” he says, mirroring Harry by tilting his head towards the kitchen. “Let’s get some dinner and then we can cuddle for a bit, loosen you up, yeah?”

It’s only a little bit awkward as Harry sets about cooking them dinner. It’s nothing fancy, just bacon and eggs, but it’s good, hearty food that’s not difficult to cook. They eat on their laps while an episode of Schitt’s Creek plays on the screen of Harry’s ridiculously large telly, but Harry barely tastes his food, too busy trying not to listen to the frankly obscene noises Louis makes.

“These are some of the best eggs I think I’ve ever had,” Louis remarks, nudging his foot against Harry’s. “If they’re anything like the sex, I’m in for a good couple of days.”

Harry chokes on a forkful of sausage. “Um…”

Louis giggles again, rolling his eyes as Harry thumps himself on the chest. “What, you never heard the word sex before?”

“ Hey, ” Harry whines, nudging him back. “You caught me off guard, that’s all. It’s quite… it was forward, that’s all.”

Louis snorts. “In the nicest way possible, babe, I didn’t come around just for your eggs. Although maybe you’ll find me here again, waiting outside your door for another plate.” His eyes go wide. “In a non-creepy way, of course.”

“Is there a non-creepy way to come back to my home and beg for my eggs?” Harry asks, one eyebrow raised, which has them both dissolving in a fit of giggles. Louis scrunches up his face when he giggles, his little hand covering his mouth, and it’s so endearing that Harry finds himself wishing he wasn’t going into rut at all. He wants to have sex with this omega - boy, does he want to—but he wants to spend more time with Louis like this.

He wonders if Louis may stay a bit after his rut finishes.

He takes Louis’s empty plate from his lap and carries it to the kitchen, making quick work of stacking the dishwasher so the washing up doesn’t just sit there for the next few days. As he rinses off the frying pan he realises just how warm he’s starting to feel, the telltale ache in his belly creeping in, and he knows he hasn’t got long, maybe an hour or so now. He’s antsy in a way that doesn’t just feel like pre-rut jitters and he doesn’t know why, but then suddenly he catches a whiff of his new favourite smell and he shudders, almost jumping when Louis rests a hand on the small of his back.

“I can smell you’re getting close,” he murmurs to Harry, wrapping both his hands around one of Harry’s wrists. “You smell incredible.”

Harry’s alpha preens at that. “What do I smell like to you?” he asks, voice like gravel, so deep it almost startles him. He needs more, needs to be touching Louis more than just hands on his wrist. 

Louis takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. “Like… cinnamon. Like a fresh pumpkin chai latte or something. And pine trees.” He tugs at Harry’s arm. “Come in here, yeah? Let’s just cuddle for a bit and you can scent me, how does that sound?”

Harry nods dumbly. He’s never been with an omega this forward in his life. “Yeah,” he croaks, then lets Louis guide him back to the couch, where he nudges Harry onto the corner side so he can climb into his lap, settling between his legs. Harry’s arms immediately wrap themselves around Louis’s middle and he buries his nose straight into the crook of his neck.

“You smell so fucking good,” he grunts, a smile tugging at his lips as Louis preens, clasping his hands around Harry’s larger ones. They couldn’t be pressed any closer together if they tried. “God, so fucking good.”

Louis giggles and preens at the same time, letting his head go floppy so Harry can rest more comfortably against him. His hands tighten the more Harry scents him and pretty soon they’re both moaning, Louis in pleasure and Harry possessive. 

“You’re gonna feel so good inside me,” Louis murmurs into Harry’s ear. “So big and thick, and you’ll hold me down with your strong arms too, won’t you? God, so hot.”

The fact that he’s probably said that to a bunch of other alphas turns Harry’s stomach a bit, and he tightens his grip on Louis even more. “Say my name,” he commands, voice edging on too much. “Say my name and kiss me.”

Louis turns in his lap and cups his face in his hands, barely waiting a second before he’s leaning in and kissing him. Harry kisses him back with possessiveness and bite, arms circling tight around his waist. He can’t believe he’s gone so long without an omega, not when they smell and feel and taste this good, so he’s turned on just from kissing. 

He presses him into the sofa and hovers over him, pinning his wrists above his head. They kiss for a long time and Harry can’t get enough already because Louis smells… well, he smells fucking dreamy.

He smells like soft linen and cotton candy, like icing and fruity cocktails and everything Harry associates with feeling happy and content. He smells like warm weather, like rain at the end of a bright sunny day, pink wine and fresh bread and peach fizz. He smells like pure joy, like someone who is in love with life and someone people love to have around. 

If he was coherent enough to record his thoughts somehow, he’d consider writing about how the omega tastes like strawberries on a summer evening and how his breathy moans and gentle grunts sound just like a song.

It’s a smell that’s sending him deeper and deeper, edging him closer and closer to his full rut-like state, sending him near feral with how headey he feels with it. He can’t get enough and he finds himself growling into the kiss, unable to breathe with how much he wants to make this omega his. 

But it doesn’t feel like a want, it’s a need. And he can’t get his head around this feeling when he’s known this omega less than an hour, for fuck’s sake. 

“Take me to bed, alpha,” Louis gasps suddenly against his lips, blinking up at him coyly. Harry’s stomach clenches possessively. 

“Say my name,” he growls again. “Don’t call me alpha. I wanna hear you say my name.”

“Harry,” Louis gulps, licking his lips and going tense as Harry practically rips the T-shirt from his body. “Harry, please…”

His skin is golden and glistening under the lights of his bedroom, a gorgeous tan colour that looks perfect in his crisp white sheets. His scent is only getting stronger and it’s intoxicating, and Harry can tell that he’s barely got any time left before he’s fully into his rut. 

He needs this omega now and he needs him to be his. 

Like most of his ruts, he can’t really remember many of the details. He remembers ripping the trackies that Louis came wearing clean off and burying his face between his cheeks almost instantly, letting himself get lost in the smell and the taste of his slick, rich and musky. He remembers flipping Louis onto his stomach and fucking him for what felt like hours, his knees and hips burning from the speed and intensity of it all. 

He remembers Louis slicking a condom onto his cock before sinking down onto him and bouncing, riding Harry until his knot popped. He remembers waking up and finding Louis asleep but, unable to control himself, he pushes back inside the omega’s spent little body and fucks him back awake. He remembers watching in awe as Louis sucked him off to two orgasms, not stopping even after Harry had jizzed all over his face. 

It’s the safest and most in control he’s ever felt in a rut in his life. 

When Harry wakes up the following day and realises he’s out of his rut, he scrubs a hand over his face and breathes a sigh of relief. Waking up after a rut always feels like a breath of fresh air.

And if the time and date on his phone are correct, he’s finished earlier than he’d even anticipated. His flight to the States doesn’t leave until just after 5pm, so he’s got the best part of the day to chill and hopefully spend some more time with Louis. 

And then it hits him like a freight train.

Louis.

He rolls over carefully, not wanting to wake him if he’s still there, which he very much hopes he is. 

He is still there, fast asleep, looking like a golden vision against Harry’s pillows. He looks even younger in sleep, even softer, and Harry’s gaze immediately falls to the bruises on his shoulders and chest. There’s a pang of something he can’t explain in his stomach—guilt? Possessiveness? Lust? He finds himself wondering if there’s any more marks further down, whether his fingertips left bruises on his hips, if his mouth left lovebites on his thighs.

He tucks his blanket up under his neck and pointedly doesn’t check. 

His rut hasn’t been over that fast in years and he has to give credit where credit is due, and that’s to this omega fast asleep next to him. He can’t remember the last time his rut took so little time, nor has he ever felt so looked after, so cared for during one. 

Ruts are usually seen as something purely biological, something that can’t be helped and something that turns alphas into aggressive, over-protective brutes. But Harry doesn’t believe that, especially not of himself, because ruts make him feel more vulnerable than anything. He hates the idea that he’s not in control and reduced to something primal and he’s always hated the idea of getting an omega involved, especially one he doesn’t know that well. 

But Louis was good. 

Louis was gentle, willing, and wonderful. He let Harry kiss him and scent him as he needed and he was able to knot him too. He vaguely remembers holding the omega closer to his chest as he came again and again, and even though the memory is hazy it’s enough to make Harry smile softly into his pillow. 

He didn’t even protest when Harry woke him up begging for more, and he made sure that Harry was eating and drinking throughout. He was the perfect omega to spend a rut with. 

And even though the room smells a bit disgusting, like sweat and semen and generally like two people have been fucking like rabbits in here for the past two days, the core scent that Harry already knows is intrinsically Louis, remains the strongest. 

It’s going to be hard to let a scent like this go, that’s for sure. 

After a few moments of Harry just watching him (in a non-creepy way, of course) Louis starts to stir. He lets out a long breath and then blinks a few times, stretching out underneath the duvet before he focuses his sleepy gaze on Harry. 

“Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” Harry croaks. Louis continues to stretch and tilts his neck back and Harry can see more bruises on his neck, marks from his own mouth. It almost makes him salivate. 

“Were you watching me sleep?” Louis asks in a heavy voice. 

“What? No.” Harry tries to laugh it off awkwardly but he doesn’t think he’s fooling anyone. He’s certainly not fooling himself. “No, I just… I just woke up too.”

Louis grins impishly. “I’m joking. It’s actually quite normal for you to feel a bit protective and like you want to watch me after a rut.” He reaches forward and touches Harry’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

Harry leans into it. “I feel good,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember the last time I felt so refreshed after a rut.”

“ Well.” Louis pretends to flip his hair over his shoulders smugly. “That’s because you weren’t spending them with me.”

Harry laughs awkwardly. He wasn’t spending them with anyone at all, which means he’d usually come out of them feeling irritable and exhausted. “Exactly. And I’m not gonna lie, Louis, you were really great. You made me feel so looked after and satisfied, which is exactly what I needed.”

Louis grins and ducks his head. “Well, shucks. You better leave a five star review like that on my page.”

Harry’s face falls. “Right.” He clears his throat and rolls over, pretending it’s because he wants to grab his phone but really he wants to hide his face. “Because this is… right.” 

“Harry?”

“Do you want breakfast?” Harry asks, because if he doesn’t change the subject he’s worried he’s going to say something he regrets. “I can make you some bacon and eggs again.”

Louis looks like he wants to say something, but instead he just nods. “That would be lovely, Harry,” he says softly. “Technically you’ve got me booked until one o’clock.”

Harry nods and scrabbles to get out of bed. He’s naked and it makes him feel slightly awkward, but then he remembers that Louis’s just spent the past few days impaled on his dick, so he tries to quash it down and move through into the bathroom. 

He catches sight of his reflection in the mirror and he’s shocked at how… well, how not like shit he looks. Ruts usually leave him feeling drained and looking like shit with dark circles under his eyes and horrible clammy skin, but not today. He’s still in need of a good shower, but he can’t deny he feels much better today than he was expecting to. 

There’s a lot to be said about spending your rut with an omega, clearly. 

As long as that omega is Louis. 

“Just gonna have a shower, alright?” he calls through the closed door. Louis calls back an okay, so he turns the water on as high as it’ll go and steps inside, letting his head fall back against the wall. 

What the fuck?

He tries to shake his stupid needy thoughts off as he washes himself, letting the warm spray soothe the tension in his muscles. He washes his hair and once he’s out he gives his teeth a good brush, taking care to make sure he looks good when he leaves the bathroom, for no reason other than that he’s spent the last few days not looking after himself properly. 

Yes. That’s the reason. 

Once he’s out the bathroom, Louis slides past him and heads inside to shower himself. Harry puts on clothes and heads into the kitchen, absolutely desperate for a cup of coffee. He needs to feel normal again and coffee seems like a good place to start. 

Harry makes them breakfast and they make very basic conversation while they eat. In all honesty, he’s a little lost for words because he isn’t sure why he feels so shitty about the idea of Louis leaving him. All he can focus on is Louis’s scent. 

It was incredible before his rut and he’d put him smelling so good down to him being so close to going under, but he thinks he might smell even better now. He can’t get enough of it and the fact that he’s leaving soon makes Harry’s head spin a little bit. 

But he can’t stay forever and eventually Louis’s picking up his bag and making his way towards the door. 

“Well,” he says, turning to Harry and offering a small wave. “Thank you for choosing me as your O-For-Hire. Don’t forget to leave me a good review on our website and if you ever need to use our services again, don’t forget you’ll get a 10% discount next time.”

Harry would pay ten times his original payment if it meant he got to spend every rut in the future with Louis, but he’s not going to say that out loud. He just nods instead. “Thanks, Louis. For everything.”

Louis leans forward, bounces up on his tiptoes and presses a quick kiss into Harry’s cheek. “Goodbye, lovely Harry.”

“Bye, Louis.” Harry watches him walk down the corridor and when he’s in the lift and on his way out of there Harry slams his front door shut and bolts it, then buries his face in his hands. 

Brilliant. 

Perfect. 

His rut finished in good time, Louis has gone, and now he can get ready to go to America and get on with his life. 

That’s exactly what he wanted. 

So why does he feel like shit?

*

The next two weeks are… well, not good for Harry. 

Realistically he has a lot to look forward to over his two weeks in the States. They kick it straight off with his photoshoot for the album, which is two days of Harry wearing some of his favourite outfits that he’s ever been offered and using fun, bright coloured backdrops to showcase them. It’s exactly the kind of photoshoot he loves to do and this is something he’s been working up to for months now, but he just feels off. 

He can’t explain why he feels so off, but he puts on a brave face and greets everyone warmly, but the person he wants there isn’t there. 

Why would he be here? What’s wrong with you?

He just can’t get Louis out of his head from the moment Louis leaves his flat. He’s thinking about him as he boards his plane, he’s thinking about him instead of listening to Niall rabbit on about the itinerary for the next couple of days, and he’s thinking about him when they get to their hotel in LA. 

He thinks about him in the shower and he thinks about him as he collapses into bed, and hopes and prays he’s able to just sleep it off. It’s only because he can still smell Louis’s scent on him a bit, surely?

Then he wakes up the next morning and realises he still feels like shit. 

He has no idea what’s wrong with him. He hasn’t ever been so caught up on a one night stand before. In fact, he can’t even remember feeling this intensely about anyone he was seeing, let alone someone he just fooled around with once. 

It is different when you spend your rut with someone and he knows that, but he doesn’t recall ever feeling like this before. He racks his brains trying to think of any examples his alpha friends have ever given him of times they’ve felt this attached to an omega like this, but he can’t. He feels like an idiot, honestly . 

But he can’t dwell on feeling like shit for too long because he has too much to do today, too much riding on this photoshoot for his album cover, for fuck’s sake, that he can’t let himself get in his head. He needs to focus .

The day starts with a meet-and-greet with all the people involved in the shoot and then he’s straight into it, first to wardrobe and then to make-up. 

His make-up artist, a young omega called Ellie that he’s not met before, is very professional at the beginning as she starts misting the foundation onto his face. But as she moves on to his eyebrows, she starts to lean back, like she’s scared to get too close to him, which isn’t ideal when someone’s doing your makeup. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles as they accidentally bump arms. “I just didn’t know and I’m trying to keep a distance so you don’t pick up too much of my scent.”

Harry frowns, his brows furrowing. “Sorry, what?”

“That you’d, um.” Her face is bright red by this point. “That you’d bonded recently.”

Harry flinches back and he barks out a hollow, awkward laugh. “ What? I’m not… I’m not bonded. What the hell?”

“You’re not?” Ellie looks genuinely taken aback, brows raised in confusion. “But you… sorry, I know this is kind of weird but you… gosh, the smell of omega on you is like… well, like you’re newly bonded.”

“I’m not bonded,” Harry says again, voice rough. “I’m, um, I’m freshly out of my rut, if that could be it.”

“Oh,” she says, still sounding a little shocked, but then she steps closer to him coyly, leaning across him to reach something from her trolley while also making a point to press her breasts against his chest. “Well, that’s… that’s good.”

“I did spend it with my omega though,” Harry says loudly, anxious to nip whatever this is in the bud right away. “My omega who’s, like, back in London.”

“ Oh,” she exclaims, taking a step back like she’s been burned. “I see. Well. I’ll just…”

The rest of getting his makeup done is rather awkward, so Harry’s rather relieved when he’s moved onto his hair stylist. There’s been a clear vision from the beginning about how he’s going to look for this shoot—classic makeup, a simple, but sharp quiff in his hair, and they’re going to let the clothes do the talking. 

One of his favourite things about his job is getting to play dress up and he feels so privileged and grateful to have access to some of the most luxurious and exclusive wardrobes in the world. Since befriending Alessandro, the creative director at Gucci, he’s been beyond blessed with garments he could only dream of, and the unique pieces that have been selected for this shoot are enough to make his mouth water. There’s contrasting colours, loads of different textures and fabrics and styles that would probably look ridiculous if they weren’t styled by Gucci, and that’s exactly what Harry wants for this cover. 

It’s a very hectic day from start to finish, coupled with the fact that he’s jetlagged to fuckery, and by the end of it, Harry’s so exhausted he can barely see. Their photographer asks if he wants to go over the shots there and then but Niall, bless him, politely declines and takes Harry out to his favourite Californian restaurant for pizza instead. 

“You look like you need several of these,” he tells Harry as the waitress brings two large bottles of Budweiser to their secluded table. Harry hadn’t even seen him order. “How are you feeling? Jet lagged?”

Harry nods and takes a huge swig of his beer. Niall wasn’t wrong and it goes down like a treat. He’s definitely having another after this. “Dude, I feel like this is the most jetlagged I’ve been in years. I think it’s the overhang on my rut, to be honest. Didn’t really get a lot of sleep.”

“Oh yeah,” Niall says. “How was it in the end with that omega? Did you like who I picked for you?”

Maybe just a little bit too much.

Harry takes another generous swig of beer. “He was great,” he admits honestly. “I couldn’t have asked for a better omega, honestly.”

Niall grins over the top of his beer. “That’s awesome,” he says, looking rather proud of himself. “Would you be open to using that service again if needs be?”

I’d be open to sleeping with Louis again. 

He doesn’t feel ready to admit that out loud to himself yet, let alone Niall, so he opts for a casual shrug. 

“Maybe. I think it’s good to know that it worked out for me if push comes to shove.” Another swig of beer. “But yeah. It worked well. I liked my omega a lot.”

Niall eyes him suspiciously for a second, but he doesn’t ask any more questions. If he noticed Harry’s Freudian slip, he certainly doesn’t mention it, and Harry makes sure he’s quick to change the subject by bringing up Niall’s beloved golf club and how he wanted to get tickets for their next tournament. 

They don’t stay out long because by the end of their meals they’re both so sleepy they can barely keep a conversation going, so they head back to the hotel. Harry doesn’t even bother to shower or attempt unpacking; he topples straight into bed and falls into a restless, dreamless sleep. 

He wakes up feeling even more tired the next morning, but he pushes through because he can’t wait to see the photos from yesterday and then get any retakes done and out of the way. 

He’s so blessed to have the most incredible team because the photos turn out exactly as he wanted them to. There’s an obvious choice for his album cover and then him and the team pick several more for social media, posters and merchandise, and for the album booklet. 

It’s probably his favourite shoot ever and he’s not ashamed to say he thinks he looks bloody incredible in every shot. It’s a real testament to the team he works with and the fact that he’s able to put out an album that he’s this proud of at the beginning of the re-emergence of his music career, and it feels so bloody incredible to be doing so. His music is something that’s sat on the back burner for such a long time, but now he’s becoming Harry Styles, the Artist, rather than Harry Styles, the X-Factor Kid, and that feels long overdue and fucking awesome.

And thankfully, he doesn’t have to do a lot for the rest of his time out there in America. They’re out there for two weeks because they’ve ended up having to do a lot of meetings spaced out with various different people, like his merch team one day and his American agents the next, but he’s actually got a lot of free time. 

So the following days in LA pass in a daze. He sits through some meetings, has some business lunches and attends a couple of events for friends out there, but his heart isn’t in any of it. He gets through it because he has to, but each night he goes back to his hotel room and struggles to sleep because he can only focus on one thing. 

All he can think about is Louis. 

He wonders what Louis is doing right now. He wonders if he got a good night of sleep the night before, if he enjoyed his dinner, and what he’ll be having for breakfast. 

He wonders what he’s doing right now. Is he in Tesco doing his weekly food shop? Is he at the pub with his friends? Is he sitting at home by himself? Is he working?

He can’t help but wonder if he’s sleeping with other alphas, except he doesn’t so much wonder because that’s Louis’s job . He will be sleeping with other alphas and Harry feels like he could punch a hole in the fucking wall if he thinks about it too much. 

He wonders if Louis’s thinking about Harry even a little bit. 

It’s supposed to be a fun trip, but it’s anything but fun. He’s never been so homesick in his entire life, not even when he was seventeen and being paraded around the States by his first management company for the first time. 

And this time he’s surrounded by people he loves—Niall’s there with him and he’s spent a lot of time with his friends, friends he hasn’t seen in months—but he’s never felt more alone. 

By the time he lands back in the UK, he’s exhausted. He heads straight home and immediately orders an obscene amount of takeaway from his favourite restaurant, then has a long shower while he waits for it to arrive. He eats it in his pants on the sofa and goes straight to bed without unpacking anything. 

The bed sheets still smell a bit like Louis. He sleeps better than he has in a few weeks and he wakes up the following morning with a raging hard-on, which he pretends is just because he feels more comfortable in his own bed rather than any random hotel bed. 

And if he starts the morning by jerking off with his face buried in the pillow on Louis’s side of the bed then nobody has to know but him. 

He strips the bed and then throws the soiled sheets into the washing machine, then takes a long shower, washing the embarrassment and confusion off of him. 

Enough is enough , he decides. 

So once he’s dressed and he’s had his second cup of coffee, he makes a call. 

“Niall,” he says into the phone, his tone on the edge of being a bark. “Niall, I need the biggest favour ever.”

“Sure, Haz,” Niall says merrily. If he can sense anything wrong in Harry’s voice he doesn’t pander to it. Harry can picture him sitting in his giant office, feet kicked up on the desk, wearing a hoodie and trackies because nobody can tell him what to wear when he’s working from home. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to first of all never mention this again,” Harry says through gritted teeth. “But I need you to please get in touch with that agency where you got me that omega from and… and rebook him.”

“Really?” To his credit, Harry knows there’s no judgment in Niall’s tone, just friendly curiosity. “I thought that was just a one night only kind of deal.”

“So did I.” Harry trusts Niall with his life, but he doesn’t offer anything more than that. He wants to keep… whatever this thing with this omega is close to his chest. “But I just… it’s a self-preservation thing, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Niall says simply, and Harry can already hear him tip-tapping away at his keyboard. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll put in a call to them.”

“For as soon as possible, please,” Harry says, cringing at how desperate he sounds. Might as well go the whole hog. “And Niall? If he’s fully booked or whatever, you can offer double pay. Use my personal account if that’s easier.”

“Okay,” Niall says again, carefully glazing over the odd request. He’s the only other person with access to Harry’s bank account, with a card that he only ever makes purchases on with Harry’s permission. There’s only been a few times where he’s used that account over their usual kitty. They didn’t even use his personal account when they booked Louis the first time. “Call you back in a mo.”

The line goes dead and Harry lets out the breath he didn’t even realise he was holding. 

He’s laid his hand out and placed his bets. 

And now all he can do is wait. 

It’s twelve minutes later that Niall calls back. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever answered a call quicker in his life. 

“Christ, H, the phone didn’t even ring,” Niall roars with laughter when Harry shoves the phone to his ear. “You haven’t been this horny since you presented.”

“Shut up,” Harry snaps, but he’s laughing. He’s acting like a total knothead and they both know it. “What did they say?”

“They said they don’t do repeat clients very often unless the omega agrees with it,” Niall tells him, and Harry’s heart sinks. “So they contacted the omega in question and they said they’d get back to me when they heard from him. They said if I didn’t hear from them by the end of today it would be a no-go.”

Harry lets out a long sigh. “Okay, that’s fair enough, I guess. Thanks for trying, Ni.”

“I’m not finished,” Niall says coyly, then pauses for dramatic effect. “They said if I didn’t hear by tonight it was a no-go, but they put me on hold while they gave him a call to check, and he agreed.”

“He agreed?” Harry breathes out, relief running from his head to his toes. “He… he agreed?”

“Yes, you knothead, he agreed,” Niall chuckles proudly. “Can I have a thank you, perhaps?”

“Thank you, Niall, my bestest of best friends.” Harry makes a mental note to send him a crate of beer to his house as an extra thank you. “Light of my life, apple of my eye…”

“Yeah, alright.” Niall laughs even louder. “Don’t you want to know when?”

“When?” Harry asks.

“Tomorrow,” says Niall gleefully. “Tomorrow evening. I’ll confirm the time with you in the morning, they’re going to email a confirmation email and new contract over soon. Is that alright, Haz?”

“Perfect, that’s bloody perfect,” Harry says, nervous and delighted in the same breath. “Thank you Niall, you’re the best. No better manager exists in the world.”

“I know, I’m fantastic,” Niall drawls. “Anyway, I’ll be in touch when I know more. Have a lovely rest of your day off and spare a thought for us hard at work.”

“Take the rest of the day off if you want,” Harry insists. “You must be jet lagged. I sure as shit am.”

“I’m booking your hotels for the press tour, idiot,” Niall tuts. “But after that I might clock off early, spend some time with my wife rather than you for a change.”

“Sounds lovely,” Harry grins, and he means that. He’s so appreciative to have someone like Niall who works as hard for him as he does, but he knows the hours aren’t always the best. “Give her a hug from me, tell her I miss her.”

“Will do, H.” Niall’s back tapping away at his keyboard, possibly trying to rush getting these hotels booked so he can, in fact, have some time away from his desk. “I’ll text you when I hear anything further about your little omega friend, okay?”

Not my friend. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry says, a little distracted as he looks around his flat and sees that it’s in disarray. There’s unpacked bags still piled in the hallway, laundry to be done, and a bowl of rotting fruit that he forgot to throw out on the kitchen counter, which makes him wrinkle his nose. “Hey, sorry, did you schedule my food shop delivery to come today?”

There’s a pause and then Niall swears. “Fuck. I knew I’d forgotten something, I’m so sorry, H. I’ll do it now.”

“No, no, don’t worry if you haven’t,” Harry says quickly, an idea springing to mind all of a sudden. “I’ll take a walk to Sainsbury’s myself, I don’t mind.” He chuckles. “I think it might do me some good actually.”

“Sure,” Niall says. “Sorry, mate, completely forgot with the jetlag and everything.”

“Mate, it’s fine,” Harry laughs. “You’re my manager, not my wife. I fancy a walk anyway.”

Niall roars with laughter again. “True, true. Speak to you later, mate.”

The line goes dead again before Harry can even say goodbye. He smiles to himself, grateful to have a friend like Niall. He’s professional when he needs to be, but their relationship hasn’t really changed from when they were teenagers, when they paired Harry up with the new kid from Ireland on the first day of Year 6, and they’ve been pretty much inseparable ever since. 

Niall wants nothing but the best for Harry and that’s abundantly clear in the way he manages Harry’s life. He’s his manager but he’s also his best friend, so he has the perfect balance between being able to tell Harry when he’s being a knothead while also making sure he’s looked after, comfortable and isn’t losing his mind like he’s been at risk at doing in the past. 

Harry’s rise to fame wasn’t exactly a normal rise to fame. His immediate success came from auditioning for The X Factor at the tender age of 16, when his fresh-faced, boyish charm captured the hearts of the nation. He didn’t win but he came a modest third, then went on to release two singles that soared to the top of the UK and US charts. 

From there, everything got a little bit much very quickly. He turned 17 and was sent over to America to try and “break the States,” as it were. He sang on dozens of talk shows, radio stations and even SNL, and at first it was amazing. It was exciting and exhilarating and he was making more money than he knew possible, able to pay off his mum’s mortgage before he even turned 18. 

But then things began going downhill. He couldn’t record his album like his record label wanted him to because he was exhausted and overworked and he desperately missed his mum and his sister and his friends. People didn’t seem interested in his music anymore, they only seemed to care about the older omega women he was rumoured to be going out with, and he ended up being sent back to the UK, his tail between his legs and a mediocre EP that barely scraped into the single figures of the charts. 

Back in Cheshire, he spent months doing nothing but feeling sorry for himself, unable to find any motivation to get off his arse and write any more music. He spent the best part of half a year hiding in his mum’s house, playing XBox and stress-baking and drinking too much and generally moping. 

Until Niall got involved. 

Niall had been the kick up the arse he needed to get out of his funk. He had been there all along, taking him on drink-for-drink and wiping away the tears and playing double-player with him on many a game, but after a while he, like Harry’s mum and sister and everyone close to him, couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Harry,” he’d said one day, carefully setting the controller away from him before they could start a new game. “You’re better than this.”

“What?” Harry had furrowed his brows. “I just won the last round, what are you talking about?”

“No, mate,” Niall said, and he’d sounded almost upset. “Better than this .” He gestures between Harry, the telly, and the jumbo bag on Doritos between them. “This isn’t a way to live, Harry. Not for you.”

“I’m fine, Niall,” Harry grunted. “Here, just start a new game, come on.”

“No,” Niall said gruffly. “I can’t keep watching you self-destruct, H. We need to talk about this, like, properly.”

Niall was the one that forced Harry to confront his problems and he’s stuck by him ever since. He was the one who helped him draft the email that said he was withdrawing from his first record label. He was the one who took him on as the first client in the aptly named Niall Horan & Representatives, a company he bought the license for after a pint too many one Friday night, and he was the one who started sending emails out to other record labels, asking if they wanted to take Harry Styles on. 

He didn’t end up getting another record deal until a few years later, but in that time his acting and modelling career took off and made him practically a household name, ever since Christopher Nolan of all people recognised his name and took a punt on letting him audition for his film, and suddenly he was starring in a Hollywood blockbuster. 

Following the success of that film, he’s gone onto star in six more, and in between filming he’s been able to star in ad campaigns for multiple fashion houses, walked runways for Gucci and Lanvin, and now he’s just signed the five-year contract of his dreams with Gucci as the face of their spring-summer collections and two of their fragrances. 

It’s not gone too badly for him, all things considered. 

His first ‘real’ album launched when he was 21, a self-titled debut that wasn’t all that hotly anticipated given his rocky start, but one that shot to the top of the charts and received praise from everyone from Rolling Stone to Billboard. He’s unbelievably proud of how it came out and the reception made it so much easier to start his second album, which is all recorded and ready to go, due to come out in December. It’s probably the thing he’s proudest of to date. 

He’s come a long way from the teenage boy who auditioned for The X Factor to prove a point and he’s living the life that people only dream of. 

There’s still just a few things that stop being from being completely happy though. 

He hates the way his teenage PR persona hangs over him even now. He hates that he’s still seen as a womaniser even though before Louis he hadn’t slept with anyone in coming up to 18 months at this point, and he kind of plans for the next person he sleeps with to be the last person he sleeps with (he pointedly doesn’t let himself wonder if that might in fact be Louis). 

And Niall knows as much as well as anyone that Harry just wants to be in love. Probably better than anyone, really, because Niall was there when he started to present at the age of 14 and was nothing but supportive when Harry whispered to him one night under the cover of darkness that maybe he was attracted to men as well as women. 

Since becoming Harry’s manager, he’s fought tooth and nail to erase Harry’s womanising image. He’s made an effort to make sure that if Harry does enter into a PR relationship it’s short and sweet and that it’s almost entirely mutually beneficial so it can be nipped in the bud at the earliest opportunity, but still playing up Harry to be a relationship man rather than a man slag. 

He truly had no idea how commonplace PR relationships were until he started getting into them, but he’s sworn off them from now on. Even with his major Gucci campaign launching in November and his album coming out in December, he’s not doing it anymore.  

In his time, Harry’s had three PR relationships and he’s disliked every single minute of every single one. All three of the omegas have been nice enough, and he even ended up sleeping with two of them just because , but nothing ever felt like it would stick. They knew it was never intended to be long-term, so they didn’t make the effort to keep it going. 

He’s never known how to properly start a relationship with someone so he’s remained (as far as he’s concerned) entirely single for his entire 24 years of life. But he desperately wants to find someone, not necessarily to bond and start having pups straight away or anything, but more so because he just feels like it’s the right time. He feels ready to start settling down, to make a life with someone. 

So perhaps Niall knows there’s more to this reunion than Harry’s letting on, that this isn’t just a fuck for Harry but he’s letting him have his moment with this omega. 

He certainly hopes so. 

He spends the rest of the day cleaning his flat from top to bottom, partly for the sake of tomorrow and partly for his own peace of mind. He loves his apartment more than anything—when he bought it, it was because the location was perfect, and in a very secure building. Since then he’s spent a small fortune renovating the place and turning it into his dream home, and now he couldn’t be happier with it. With its five bedrooms, six bathrooms, open-plan kitchen and dining area, closet room and gym space, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that bring in the most beautiful natural light and views of London, it’s his heaven on earth. 

He doesn’t get to spend as much time here as he’d like, so when he’s home for any length of time he likes to be domestic, cooking and cleaning and sprucing things up. It’s something he takes great pride and pleasure in, even if he’s the only one who sees it. 

Well, him and Louis. 

If Louis comes along tomorrow, that is. 

No, he scolds himself. Louis is coming tomorrow, he’s confirmed it and he will. 

He squashes down the niggling part of his brain that keeps murmuring that Louis isn't coming and makes his way to Sainsbury’s. If he’s going to drag Louis here for an evening where he’s not working properly, the least he can do is offer him a good, square meal. 

He always goes to the shops wearing sunglasses and a hoodie to try and avoid being recognised, and his trip is relatively painless. He picks up steak, potatoes, fresh veggies and the ingredients for another full English breakfast in the hope that he’ll be able to convince Louis to stay even longer with the promise of eggs again. He seemed to really enjoy Harry’s eggs before, so it’s worth a shot. 

He’s beyond restless when he finally gets the text from Niall that Louis has been booked to arrive at his place for five o’clock. He’s also a bit put out that Niall keeps hinting that he’s in for a good fuck tonight when that’s not what this is at all. 

He needs this like he needs water and air. He’s losing his fucking mind over here and all that can keep him going is that he hasn’t got long left without him. 

(There’s a small part of him that wonders if Louis feels the same, which is irritatingly not as loud than the part of his brain that’s screaming at him for overreacting, for pulling this poor omega back to him for no reason.)

There's a knock on the door at 4:59 and Harry nearly trips over his feet in his rush to open it. He stumbles towards the front door and practically rips it open, vibrating with nerves and excitement and wanting all at once. 

Louis’s face lights up when he sees Harry and he tentatively steps forward. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Harry breathes out, licking his lips without meaning to. His breathing is shaky and the scent radiating off Louis is downright intoxicating. “Um, come in.”

It’s then that Harry notices Louis has a bag, the same duffel bag he had with him last time. 

An overnight bag. 

“I’m so glad you called…” Louis starts to say, right as Harry blurts, “Can I give you a hug?” and they both freeze, staring at each other for a few seconds before they move. 

“ Please,” Louis whimpers hurriedly, arms open for Harry to move into instantly. Harry rushes forward and bundles him up, pressing his face right into his neck and taking a deep breath, clutching Louis close to him to the point where his feet lift from the ground, which makes Louis squeak. “God, Harry…”

“I’m so happy to see you,” Harry murmurs, setting Louis down but keeping him in his arms, circling them around his shoulders. “I don’t… it’s weird, but I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you here.”

“Same,” Louis says, winding his arms around Harry’s neck, biting his lip as he stares up at him. He’s the most incredible thing that Harry’s ever laid eyes on. “I don’t understand, like, why I’ve been so… not myself, without you around.” He shakes his head. “God, I can’t believe you feel the same.”

“It’s been weird,” Harry says again, then takes a deep breath, savouring the fresh scent of vanilla and strawberry that’s emanating off of Louis in waves. He smells happy . “And I couldn’t… I didn’t have your number or, like, even your last name so I couldn’t find you without calling the company, so forgive me for overstepping.”

“Overstep all you like,” Louis says with a grin. “I was tempted to camp outside your front door like you threatened to, ready for you to cook me eggs again. “Then I remembered you were in the States and I’d have been thrown from the building by security.”

Harry shakes his head fondly. “I’d have had someone let you in.” He sighs. “Fucking hell, Louis, what are you doing to me? I never let anyone in this apartment, like, ever.”

“What are you doing to me ?” Louis echoes, then ducks his head. “I’ve never come to see a client again knowing full well they’re not about to have their rut.”

Harry stamps down his jealousy and slides his hand under the bottom of Louis’s T-shirt, fingers rubbing lightly over the warm skin there. Somehow this doesn’t feel like overstepping and he doesn’t think Louis will bat him off. “I’m glad you did,” he says simply. “Sorry, like, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ll still make sure you’re paid the full night, but if you think it’s too weird…” 

Louis’s face falls. “You don’t want me to stay?”

“No,” Harry rushes out. “No, I mean, I want you to stay. Please stay. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to stay.” He gulps. “I don’t want you to think I’m a knothead for dragging you back here or whatever.”

“Harry, I can say no to clients,” Louis says dryly. “I want to be here.” He pokes Harry’s nipple. “Did you not get how much I want to be here from the way I practically forced myself into your arms back there?”

“Well, yes,” Harry says, sheepish. “I just… I dunno. I’ve never felt this way before.” He doesn’t elaborate because things could get very deep and intense very quickly. They’re pretty intense as it is. 

“Me neither,” Louis admits. “And I’ve been doing this a long time with a lot of different alphas.” He rolls his eyes when Harry growls. “Slow down, big boy. I’m only saying it because it’s true.”

“I know,” Harry grumbles. “The thing is, like…” He snorts because this whole thing is absurd. They haven’t even made it out of his hallway yet, they’re just standing holding each other by the front door because they couldn’t make it any further. “Okay, maybe we should talk properly. Do you want a drink? A beer?”

Louis looks apprehensive. “I’m not… I don’t drink on the job.” He rests his head against Harry’s chest. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. I just… I never have.”

“That’s okay,” Harry hums. “It doesn’t have to be beer. It can be water, Diet Coke, whatever you want.”

“Diet Coke sounds good,” Louis says, moving back so he can hold one of Harry’s hands with both of his. His small hands are warm, his grip firm. “Lead the way, stud.”

Louis is so tactile that Harry isn’t quite sure if he expects sex or not, or if this is just how he is. Once their drinks are poured they head back over to the sofa and Louis ends up in his lap again, head resting against Harry’s shoulder, their legs tangled. 

“Is this weird?” Harry asks out loud, even though he already half-knows the answer. “I mean, I take it you don’t come back to client’s houses often, from what you said back there.”

“I never take repeat clients,” Louis says bluntly, linking their fingers together. “Look, what I do… I’m an O-For-Hire for ruts. I’m not a prostitute just for sex, so I don’t go back to clients a second time because then there’s more chance of them getting attached and the risk of mating by accident is higher.” He looks at Harry carefully and Harry can tell by his scent that he’s suddenly quite nervous. “Harry, I feel like I need to be clear here. I’m not here just to have sex with you. I’m here because I have to be because I feel like I’m literally losing my bloody mind without you around. My omega is furious at me for being apart from you.”

“I didn’t call you back because I thought you were a prostitute,” Harry hurries to say, feeling mortified even at the thought. “God, shit, Louis, I called you back here because I feel the same. My alpha is furious at me for finding… well, whatever it’s found in you and then leaving you. I asked you back here like this because I couldn’t fucking stand being apart from you any longer and I didn’t know what else to do.” He brings Louis’s hand to his mouth and brushes his lips over his. “I think… I think my alpha is attached to your omega and vice versa.”

Louis gulps. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t… like, this can’t be a coincidence we’re both feeling this way,” Harry continues. He’s normally not very good at looking people in the eye but he feels like he can’t look away from Louis’s. They’re gorgeous, baby blue and soft. “You said yourself you never get attached. I don’t let myself get attached either, I never have. But this…” He gestures between them. “This feels like attachment. I feel like if you were to walk out the door now I’d chase you.”

Louis snorts, pulling their linked hands back so he can brush his own lips over Harry’s knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere, stud. You’re right, there’s something keeping me here that I can’t quite work out but that’s okay.” He grins at Harry and Harry feels warm all over. “I’m happy to be here if you’re happy for me to stay here.”

Harry nods frantically. He’d have to be dragged away kicking and screaming before he separated himself from Louis again. “Stay as long as you want. You can stay the night if you want.” His eyes go wide. “But we don’t need to have sex or anything. Just, like, be with me. Not in a sexual way. Not that I don’t want you in a sexual way because believe me, I loved having you in a sexual way but this time we don’t need to do anything sexual because…” He cuts himself off, his cheeks flaming. “You wanna order Chinese?”

Louis giggles and pats Harry’s cheek. “I would love to order Chinese and sit with you. And, um, you’ve paid for my time so like…” He shrugs. “We could have sex if you wanted.”

“I thought you made a point to only sleep with clients during ruts,” Harry says slowly, treading carefully. 

Louis shrugs, his cheeks flushing a touch. If Harry wasn’t so acutely attuned to his scent, he probably wouldn’t have noticed, but he feels very hyper-aware of the man in front of him, finding himself unable to stop staring. The last thing he wants is to upset him. 

“I… yeah, okay,” Louis murmurs, fixing a bright smile on his face. “I was only asking because I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Louis.” Harry cups his face in his hands, any worries about going too far too quickly suddenly gone. “I don’t want you to think I called you here for a fuck, that’s all. I don’t want you to just be a fuck.”

Louis doesn’t answer for a moment, which makes Harry think he’s really fucked up somehow, but then he looks up and blinks at Harry a couple of times. “So, what? We just, like, sit here and cuddle to placate our stupid secondary genders?”

“Well,” Harry croaks, his cheeks burning. “Yes. But we can also like… spend time together as friends?”

Louis bursts out laughing. “Friends? You’re paying over a grand to spend the night with me as a friend?”

“Yes?” Harry says, then sighs. “Well, look. I want to spend time with you because I feel like I need to. You feel similarly, as you said, so we might as well, right?”

“I…” Louis looks conflicted. The smile drops from his face and his mouth sets in a tight line. “So we’re friends?”

“Friends,” Harry agrees, though he feels uncomfortable saying it. But this is Louis and Louis isn’t in a position to be anything more than friends right now, or so it seems. “We can just… we can be friends for now and then see what happens.”

“Harry.” Louis looks at him carefully. “You know I’m an O-For-Hire, right?”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Yes of course I do, Lou.”

Louis nods and rests a hand on his knee. “So you know that, like, we can’t happen, right?” he says, gesturing between them with his other hand. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression by coming back but I’m just…” He gestures again faster. “You know.”

Harry’s face falls. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. “Yeah,” he nods, aiming to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “I know. I just… we need this for our secondary genders, don’t we? So we may as well, like, hang out for a bit as friends, you know?”

“Yeah, but,” Louis says warily, “I’m not going to let you pay for it each time. That’s not fair.”

“We can talk about that,” Harry assures him, squeezing over the hand that’s still clutching his leg. “We can work it all out if, you know, we feel we need to keep doing this.”

“You think this will go away now we’ve seen each other again?” Louis asks, and Harry sinks even lower into the sofa when he says that because he sounds too hopeful about that. 

“I dunno,” he answers truthfully. “What I do know that I feel ten times better now you’re here.” He sighs and sits upright. “I, um. I bought ingredients for dinner. Steak and triple cooked chips. I don’t know why I offered out a takeaway when I had plans to cook for you all along.”

Louis giggles. “You’re so cute. I can’t believe I make Harry Styles nervous, like what the fuck?”

Harry’s first instinct is to frown at that - he hasn’t realised he was coming off as nervous and he’s a little annoyed with himself at being a terrible alpha - but then Louis giggles again in that gorgeous way he’s come to adore already and he finds himself unable to help but giggle too. This whole situation is a bit ridiculous really, absurd and new and awkward all at once, but he’s glad Louis’s here. 

He can’t even begin to describe how much better he feels just for being in the same room as him. 

Feeling better but still a little disappointed, he goes and starts fixing Louis a cuppa and gets the steaks out the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

Louis nods, tucking his hands into the pockets of his joggers as he follows Harry into the kitchen. “I could eat. Do you want me to do anything?”

“Sit down and relax?” Harry tosses a tea bag into the mug and adds the sugar. “Let me look after you today. I invited you here, didn’t I?”

Louis grins, ducking his head. “Well, alright. It’s very often I’ve got an alpha cooking me my tea, that’s for sure.”

It’s a very lovely evening, exactly the kind of evening Harry feels he needed. The food is delicious, if he does say so himself, and they do the washing up together and it all feels very practiced and domestic. 

Louis still declines his offer of a beer but Harry puts his Diet Coke in one of his stupid overpriced champagne flutes and they curl up on the sofa to watch films, the first being The Notebook (Harry’s choice), followed by Die Hard (Louis’s choice). 

Louis falls asleep halfway through his own film choice, his head resting in Harry’s lap, his body curled up like a cat’s. He looks so much younger in sleep, his lips parted and making the softest snuffling sounds. Harry’s loathed to move him because he’s clearly comfortable enough to fall asleep here and he doesn’t want to disturb him if he doesn’t have to. 

But a loud boom from the film jolts Louis awake suddenly and he scrabbles to sit up, his face pink and his hair a mess from where Harry’s fingers have been gently carding through it. “Shit. What time is it?”

Harry glances at his watch. “It’s nearly 2am.” He sits up a little straighter so Louis can sit up properly on the sofa, wrapping the blanket around himself. He looks adorable. “We can go to bed if you want. Separate beds, of course.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Separate beds?”

“Do you want to stay the night?” Harry asks awkwardly. “I mean, I saw you brought a bag with you so I figured you might want to.”

“Um, yes?” Louis plays with his fingers in his lap. “I didn’t want to assume, but you did, like, book me overnight. But I want to. Better than getting a taxi now, certainly.”

“I, um, I can set up the guest room?” Harry asks quickly. “If you want to stay, of course, don’t feel obliged.”

Louis chuckles and stands up, picking up his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Babe, I’m staying. You don’t need to look so nervous. We’ve ascertained that I want to be here.”

Harry nods tersely. “I know, I know. I’m sorry if I’m being really awkward, I just… I want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable.”

Louis grins at him. “I’m very comfortable, Harry. It’s not often I fall asleep in the lap of an alpha. And I’m really happy you asked me back, like, in general.” He tilts his head towards the hallway. “Is it this way?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “Here, you can stay in the one opposite me. It has an en-suite.”

Louis’s face lights up. “Oh my god, really? God, I am living in luxury tonight.”

Something in Harry’s chest feels tight and uncomfortable that staying in a room with an en-suite is Louis’s idea of luxury. He hopes it doesn’t sound like he’s showing off. 

It must show on his face because Louis shakes his head. “I’m mostly joking, you know. It’s only because I live in this stupid small studio flat. Anything above that is a luxury to me.”

“Right,” Harry nods, still feeling a touch self-conscious. He’s very proud of his home, but it is a lot to take in, and the last thing he ever wants is for Louis to feel like he’s showing off. “Um, are you tired now?”

Louis pauses but nods. “Yeah, um, sorry. I didn’t realise it was so late in the evening.”

“Don’t apologise for being tired.” Harry gets to his feet and gestures towards the hallway. “Especially at 2am. Let’s go to bed, we can talk more in the morning.”

Louis nods. “Can I, like, shower in the en-suite?”

“Louis, you can do whatever you like here, I promise,” Harry says. “There’s towels in there and I also put, like, soap and toothpaste and stuff in there just in case.”

“The host with the most,” chortles Louis, then he nods again. “You’re lovely, you know that?”

“What are friends for?” Harry asks, going for light-hearted but it falls a bit flat. 

“Indeed,” Louis replies, then jumps to his feet. “Are you going to bed now too?”

Harry nods and stands with him. “Yeah, I’ll tidy the kitchen in the morning. Let’s go.”

He blows out all the candles and shuts off all the lights as Louis gathers his bags, and once he’s checked the front door is firmly locked he meets Louis outside the bedroom. He’s set the bags inside already, the lights set to dim. 

“I’m going to have a quick shower,” he murmurs, then pulls Harry into a tight hug. “Will you, um…”

He cuts himself off with a squeak as Harry presses a tender kiss to the top of his head, because he’s a mess who can’t help himself, apparently. “Will I what, love?”

“Will you make me eggs for breakfast?” Louis pulls back and blinks up at him, biting his lip. “Your famous eggs?”

Harry has a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t what he was going to say in the first place, but he doesn’t press. “Of course, Lou,” he says with a soft smile. “I bought eggs for that very reason.”

“You’re good to me.” Louis bounces up on his tiptoes and kisses him on the jaw. “Goodnight, lovely Harry.”

He disappears into his room and clicks the door closed. Harry stands there like a complete idiot for a few moments, his fingers brushing over the spot that Louis had kissed like he’s a fucking damsel. 

Fuck. 

He’s fucked. He’s completely and utterly fucking fucked. 

Fuck. 

*

The next day, Harry texts Niall to book Louis for the whole weekend, then goes back to bed. 

*

Louis turns up with an even bigger bag on Friday night, a blinding smile on his face, and a pair of joggers on his lower half that make his arse look sublime . 

“Thank god,” he breathes as Harry welcomes him into his arms at the door. “I’ve had a headache for like four days without you.”

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, kissing the top of his head and taking a deep, welcoming breath of Louis’s scent. “I’ve missed you.”

Louis leans back and beams up at him. “Well, stud, you’ve got me for the whole weekend now. You got any plans for us?”

On a selfish alpha level, Harry’s plans involve keeping Louis in his flat all to himself. Instead of voicing that and potentially scaring Louis off though, he shrugs. “Well, tonight I thought we could make pizza? And then watch the new Bond movie?”

“Which Bond movie?” Louis furrows his brows. “The new one isn’t out for a couple of months.” 

“Maybe for other people,” Harry hums. He’s not usually one to pull favours to show off like this, but he can’t seem to help himself when it comes to Louis. “But if you know one of the screenwriters well enough that she sends you a link to it early…”

Louis’s mouth drops open. “What? Who? What?”

Harry grins. “Phoebe Waller-Bridge is a good friend of mine.”

“ What?” Louis looks absolutely delighted by that, and Harry mentally fist pumps the air. 

“How? What?”

“Does that sound like a good plan then?” Harry chirps, leading Louis towards the living room. “You can pop your bag in your room if you want. I changed the sheets for you.”

(The sheets Louis slept in the first time are absolutely not hidden under his mattress and Harry absolutely did not use them to help him sleep the nights him and Louis have been apart.)

“Sounds like the best plan ever,” Louis says, then breaks away from Harry to twirl dramatically around the room. “What kind of pizza?”

“Whatever kind you want,” Harry says. “I bought loads of different toppings and a massive bag of cheese and I’ve made the sauce myself. Whatever you want.”

“Harry Styles is such a nerd who loves to cook,” Louis says wistfully. “Who knew?”

“I want to make sure you’re leaving well fed,” Harry hums as he heads towards the fridge. “Do you want a drink? I got more Diet Coke in for you.”

Louis beams at him. “You are good to me,” he titters. “Come on then, stud. Let’s have a lovely friendly evening.”

Harry refrains from commenting about the friendly remark and leads Louis to the kitchen with a gentle hand on the small of his back. 

Very friendly. 

They eat their dinner and watch their Bond movie tangled together under a big blanket and Louis lets Harry scent him again, and at the end of the evening when they part ways into different bedrooms Harry’s heart lurches at the idea of losing the physical contact with him. He’s just about to ask if Louis wants to sleep in his bed with him, but just as he’s about to ask, Louis kisses him on the cheek and bids him goodnight before he can. 

Laying in bed, his brain chooses that moment to recall that every night he’s stayed over, Louis has bid him goodnight with a kiss on the cheek and called him lovely Harry, like that’s normal behaviour . Itakes him ages to get to sleep after that. 

The weekend passes far too quickly for Harry’s liking. On the Saturday morning he makes Louis his famous eggs and after that they settle in for a lazy weekend on the sofa, watching the entire series of Netflix’s new murder mystery in one day. 

Harry eats his first Dominos in years because Louis is absolutely scandalised that he’s gone so long without one. It’s not the best pizza by any means, especially for the price they end up paying, but Louis takes great pleasure in watching Harry try the garlic and herb dip for the first time, even though Harry’s already convinced he isn’t going to like it. 

“It’s a rite of passage, that,” he grins as Harry winces and takes a hefty swig of his beer. “Eating a Dominos with a working class lad in your fancy London flat.”

“I didn’t like that,” Harry says bitterly. “That did not taste good.”

Louis snatches the pot of sauce from him. “Well, give it here, don’t waste it.” He dips his garlic bread crust into it and grins around it. “Glad you tried it though. Means a lot to me.”

It really was disgusting, but Harry doesn’t stop grinning for the rest of his dinner after that. 

And Sunday is even lazier, if that’s possible. They get into an argument over breakfast over who is the best James Bond actor, so they end up watching all of Sean Connery’s films followed by all of Pierce Brosnan’s films before getting into a very vicious, very ridiculous popcorn fight which ends with Harry pinning Louis’s wrists above his head on the sofa cushions in what some may consider to be a rather compromising position. 

They’re both breathing heavily, caught in the fun before the reality of the position they’re now in hits them. This is probably the most intimate position they’ve found themselves in since Harry’s rut and he’s quick to break the hold once he realises. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Got carried away.”

Louis nods and snatches the blanket from the sofa behind him, draping it over his lap. “S’fine,” he rushes out, his voice strained, and he keeps his head down like he’s embarrassed. “Do you want to order some real food instead?”

They end up ordering roast dinners from one of Harry’s favourite London bistros because the second Harry suggests a Sunday roast Louis perks right back up and any awkwardness between them easily melts away. Louis even has a small glass of wine with his meal, which has Harry silently fist pumping under the table. It’s a small step, but the fact that he’s starting to feel comfortable enough around Harry to do something he was so vehemently against is gorgeous to see. 

They don’t leave the house once and it’s the best weekend Harry’s had for as long as he can remember. 

In the morning, Louis seems more reluctant to leave today than he has previously, staying for breakfast and lunch.

“I have no food at home,” he insists, ducking his eyes back down to the sandwich Harry made for him. “I’ll be out your hair after I’ve eaten, I promise.”

Harry doesn’t want Louis out of his hair, but he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to tell him that. 

But as it turns out, when the time comes it’s not him who changes everything, it’s Louis. 

He can’t help but wonder if he should be surprised that things changed so quickly between them, because on a realistic level they were never just going to be friends. Friends don’t sit in each other’s laps or drop each other little kisses to say thank you or scent each other, or at least Harry’s never had a friend like that. 

And definitely not a friend he’d do things like this when he still hardly knows them, and he’s also never had a friend he physically needs to be around for the sake of his mind, body, and soul. 

Yeah, everything’s a little too intense with Louis to be considered a friendship and they both knew that getting into it; . Bbut Harry’s been very careful not to go too far or ask too many questions because he almost doesn’t want to know, at least not yet. This thing with Louis is new and different and special, and part of him wants to keep it that way for the time being. 

But in typical Louis fashion, he has other ideas. 

Seven words is all it takes for their relationship to shift completely. 

It’s a Wednesday night and they’ve spent two nights apart, but Harry couldn’t stop his mind running rampant with the idea that the longer he goes without booking Louis, the more chance there is of him ending up being booked by some other alpha, so he books him for the rest of the week. He wonders if Niall is getting suspicious yet and he also wonders if the company that Louis works for has gotten wind of the fact he’s taking bookings for the same bloke who clearly isn’t in rut this soon again. 

He also can’t really bring himself to care. 

So it’s a Wednesday and Harry’s made a big bowl of this pasta recipe he’d seen on Instagram and they’re eating at the table in the kitchen for once, chatting about their days. 

And then Louis brings it up. 

“I googled it, by the way,” he says, then shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “Why we’re feeling so attached to each other and stuff. The internet seems to think we’re soulmates.”

Harry chokes on a tomato. He thumps at his chest with his fist and tries to process that information. “Um,” he laughs nervously. “S-soulmates?”

Soulmates. 

“Soulmates,” Louis says again with a nod. “Your alpha has identified my omega as a potential life mate and vice versa. So they’re screaming at us to get together.”

“Ah,” Harry says, because he really doesn’t know what else to say. “And, like, how do you feel about that?”

There’s a pause. “Well, I mean, just because we have this connection doesn’t mean we’re right for each other, like, long-term, does it?” Louis doesn’t look up from his pasta. “Which is why we’re just friends, right?”

“Right,” Harry says, then stabs at his pasta a bit too aggressively to be nonchalant. “Yes, okay. That’s fair enough.”

When he glances back up Louis is staring at him silently, a forkful of pasta halfway to his frowning mouth. “Harry.”

“Louis,” Harry titters, not even masking the sarcasm. 

“Don’t… don’t make this harder,” Louis says, dropping his fork onto his plate and reaching for Harry’s hand. If Harry was a stronger man, he might drop his hand out of the way, but he isn’t a strong man when it comes to Louis. “We’ve got to do this for a bit but Harry, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We barely know each other.”

“Then let me get to know you,” Harry says. He’s aware that he’s starting to sound like a petulant child, or maybe even a broken record, at this point. “Friends know things about their other friends.”

“Harry,” Louis warns. “Getting to know each other and liking being around each other doesn’t make us soulmates.”

No, it’s the being in physical pain when I’m not around you that makes us soulmates. 

“I know that,” Harry groans. “I just… maybe I need to do my own research on this soulmates thing so I can discredit it. Like you clearly have.”

“I haven’t discredited it,” Louis says carefully. “I just don’t think it’s necessarily a thing these days. Like I can’t just let myself bond with the first guy that my omega warms to.”

“Right,” Harry says again. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Things are a little tense for the rest of the meal and they barely speak again until after their plates have been cleared away and they’re getting ready to watch a movie. 

Harry sits awkwardly on the sofa while Louis disappears to the guest room to change into his pyjama bottoms and take his birth control. When he reappears, he sees Harry sat on the opposite side of the sofa to where he usually sits and rolls his eyes. 

“You don’t have to avoid me, you know.” He clambers into Harry’s lap and tugs his arms around his shoulders and because Harry is a weak, weak man, he lets him and he instantly feels better for it. “I want to be around you too, Harry. I’m not here reluctantly.”

Harry takes a deep breath and tries not to get caught up in his scent too much. “I know,” he says croakily. “I just… I feel like I’m struggling with this more than you, perhaps?”

He feels Louis shift in his lap and suddenly his hand is being squeezed in both of Louis’s littler ones. “What are you struggling with?”

“Just, like.” He isn’t sure how to say this without coming across too vulnerable, which is not something he wants to do in front of his potential omega. “You and me being soulmates. I believe it.”

He hears Louis gasp and tense and he tightens his hold on him. Neither of them say anything for a few moments. 

“I believe it too.” Louis breaks the silence with a whisper, so quiet that Harry isn’t sure that he’s heard it at first. “I believe it too, but… I can’t, Harry, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Harry whispers back. He feels like he can’t speak any louder right now or his voice might crack. 

“I can’t,” Louis says again. “Because… because if we’re soulmates then everything would change and I just… I can’t.”

“It doesn’t have to change,” Harry tells him, wrapping his arms even tighter around the omega in his lap. “It can be the same. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Louis chuckles sadly. He twists one of Harry’s rings around his finger and still doesn’t look at him. “I can’t do that, Harry. If I say anything else or do anything else, things will change whether I want them to or not.”

Harry hesitates. “Things have already changed, haven't they?” 

Louis doesn’t say anything, which is an answer in itself. They were never going to be just friends and they both knew that from the start, and Louis putting a name on it makes it all the more real. 

And soulmates aren't anything to take lightly either. Soulmates aren’t uncommon, but they aren’t an everyday occurrence either, and if you find yours you don’t let them go. They both know that, but if he’s honest Harry hadn’t even considered that this could be him meeting his soulmate. He wasn’t sure what he thought it was, but the word soulmate has been whirring around his brain since Louis said it. He can’t believe he hasn’t made the connection before now. 

He’s always been one of those people who just assumed he didn’t have a soulmate. Other people always talk about knowing you have a soulmate from an early age, that you could feel flickers of their emotions or pain when they felt pain, but Harry can’t recall ever feeling anything like that. He’s been so busy over the past few years, met so many people and done so many amazing things, that the hunt for a partner wasn’t really at the forefront of his mind until recently.  

But now he’s met Louis, and all he’s thought about every single minute of every single day since he met him is how much he wants Louis to be his. 

Harry just can’t help but feel helpless, because if Louis isn’t ready then there’s nothing he can do about it. And it definitely sounds like Louis isn’t ready. 

“Louis?” Harry murmurs after a good few minutes, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Are you going to stay?”

Louis hesitates but nods. “Yeah, I’m gonna stay.”

“Okay,” Harry replies. He keeps his arms tightly around Louis’s middle. “Do you wanna watch that new David Attenborough documentary on Netflix?”

Another pause but then Louis nods again, twisting up and back so he can look at Harry. He’s biting his lip as he always does when he’s nervous and his eyes are wide, shiny and deep and gorgeous. 

Harry’s obsessed with this omega, he really is. He’s so beautiful that Harry’s stomach can’t help but clench when their gazes meet. 

“Yeah,” Louis croaks, then presses a kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything.”

Harry shrugs lazily. “I mean, it’s good to know that this is a thing. But we can just keep doing what we’re doing until…” He lets out a long sigh to cut himself off, because he doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. “Until we don’t do it anymore.”

“Right,” Louis mumbles, nodding as he lets himself go lax in Harry’s hold. “Exactly.”

“Right,” Harry parrots, then reaches for the remote, snapping the TV on so his thoughts are drowned out by the sounds from the documentary. 

His grip on Louis stays just as tight, and Louis doesn’t try to move off of him either. 

The word soulmate rings in his ears until he falls asleep several hours later. 

*

The fourth time Louis comes over, Harry comes out of the kitchen to find him stuffing two jumpers from Harry’s laundry basket into his overnight bag. He doesn’t comment, just slinks back into the kitchen for a couple more minutes before joining Louis on the sofa for the rest of the film they’re watching. 

*

By the seventh time Louis stays over, Harry can’t take it anymore. 

“We need to talk.”

They’re both in scruffy clothes, sitting on the sofa eating Thai food straight from the containers. Louis freezes with half a forkful of rice halfway to his mouth. 

“We do?”

“Yes.” Harry avoids Louis’s eyes as he scraps the last of his own dinner onto his spoon, tossing his container onto the coffee table. “We do.”

Louis swallows his mouthful of food loudly. “Okay? Have I… done something?”

Harry sighs. This is not a conversation he wants to have but he feels like he has to. “Louis, I don’t want us to be friends anymore.” Louis’s eyes go wide and he nearly chokes on his dinner as Harry realises what he said and starts to shake his head wildly. “Fuck. No, that isn’t what I meant. Shit.”

Louis thumps his chest and glares at him. “Fucker . I just nearly died.”

“Jesus Christ,” Harry mutters. He’s handling this badly already and he’s barely even started yet. “Okay, that’s not what I meant. I meant that remember when I said we could just hang out as friends? I didn’t mean that. I want us to be much more than friends.”

“Harry,” Louis warns. “Don’t do this.”

“No, but I have to.” Harry scrubs a hand over his face. “This isn’t something I can keep doing, Louis. I need to tell you this so we can move forward.”

“ Harry,” Louis barks. “Why does it have to move forward? Why do we have to do this now?”

“Because I said so, that’s why,” Harry claps back hotly. “Because I’m losing my fucking mind and I… I can’t go on pretending I don’t have feelings for you.”

“Feelings for me?” Louis says shrilly. “No, Harry, no, don’t do this…”

Harry reaches forward and takes both of Louis’s hands in his. They’re a little clammy, but he doesn’t move away. “Louis, these feelings we have for each other aren’t normal. And we need to stop pretending they are.”

“How do you know they’re not normal?” Louis huffs, but he doesn’t meet his eyes. “How do you know that this isn’t just a fluke that I could maybe have with another client?”

Harry has to suppress the urge to growl. “Have you… had this with any of your other clients?”

Louis bristles at the word clients. Harry doesn’t feel like a client and they both know it. “No,” he answers honestly, “But Harry… whatever this is, this isn’t… it can’t happen. You know that, right?”

Harry frowns at him. “What do you mean?”

Louis looks down at his lap. “Look. This is… this is a mistake really. Spending time with you like this is technically a breach of our contracted agreement and maybe we should l…”

“Oh, to fuck with the contract,” Harry scoffs. “This goes beyond the contract.”

“Does it?” Louis asks harshly. “Because maybe it does, yeah, and I can’t deny that I’m… god, what I feel for you is so…” He trails off and scrubs a hand over his face. “But the contract is there to protect me, Harry, not you.”

Harry frowns again. “What… Louis, do I… do you not feel, like, safe with me?”

“I feel safer with you than I’ve felt with any alpha I’ve ever been with, and I’ve been with a good few,” Louis tells him, then tuts and rolls his eyes when Harry growls. “For god’s sake, don’t go all alpha on me right after I say that. You know what I do for a living.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Harry grumbles, but he does at least look a bit sheepish. He knows well enough that Louis hates the growling. “I don’t mean to growl, baby, I just… I don’t have to like what you do, do I?”

Louis shrugs. “Needs must. My bills aren’t going to pay themselves.”

“No, I know,” Harry says with a sigh. “And I’m not here trying to tell you how to live your life, I’m not. I know that’s not my place considering I’m not, like, even officially courting you or anything, but…” He twitches in his seat. “I don’t want you seeing any other alphas.”

Louis scrunches up his face, confused. “That’s literally my job, babe.”

“I know,” Harry repeats. “I don’t know how to ask you this without sounding like an alpha prick, or a prick in general.”

“Harry…”

“I want to court you,” Harry stammers out, hoping he doesn’t look as uncharacteristically nervous as he feels. Louis blinks at him. “I know we’ve only met a few times and we’ve only had sex once, but my alpha… my alpha needs you around. I’m literally going out of my mind because all I can think about is you and being with you and courting you…”

“Harry,” Louis gulps, promptly shutting him up. “You barely know me.”

“You feel it too though, I know you do,” Harry says desperately. “My alpha can feel how much your omega craves me. How compatible they are for each other.”

“Well, yes,” Louis bristles, because to deny it would be a big fat lie. “But that’s not how it works in life, Harry. On a realistic level we’re living two completely different lives in two completely different worlds. You’re you and I’m… well, I’m essentially an escort.” He shakes his head. “God, the press would have a field day if it came out you were courting an escort, wouldn’t they?”

“Don’t care,” Harry mutters. “You’re also not a bloody escort. You’re Louis.”

“Babe, I’m literally here on time that I’m going to invoice you for,” Louis says hotly. Then he sighs. “Harry, I like you a lot. I’d be lying if I tried to deny we’ve got, like, this unique chemistry between us. But I just…”

“Do you steal jumpers from all your clients?” Harry interrupts. He inches closer to Louis. “Would you even consider doing this for any of your other clients, just spending time with them without the sex?”

“Uh, maybe?” Louis glares at him. “What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to reassure you that you’re the only one or something?”

“But you always knew there would come a time when you couldn’t do this anymore, right?” Harry presses. 

“Yes,” Louis says firmly, but he can’t meet Harry’s eyes again. His cheeks are pink. “Funnily enough, being a warm hole for other alphas to use for their ruts isn’t my life’s ambition, would you believe? I do actually have other aspirations.”

Harry growls again, turning it into a frustrated sigh when Louis glares at him. “Like what?”

“Well, fuck… I don’t know, Harry,” Louis snaps, exasperated. “Like I want to do my PhD eventually. I want to become a social worker, I think.”

“You’d be good at that,” Harry tells him, feeling a sense of pride from that idea already. His omega, a doctor. 

“But that’s not the point right now, is it?” Louis says with a sigh. “I can’t just give up my job for the first alpha my omega warms to.”

Harry pouts. “But this isn’t normal, Louis. I’ve never… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” It’s honest, too honest, but it’s the truth. “And by that argument, you’ll be in this job forever because you can’t ever start a relationship if you’re in this job.”

Louis shrugs. “Yeah. You’re right. But if we look at this from the other side, are you, Harry Styles, willing to give up your life of sex, drugs, and rock n roll for a fucking escort?”

“You’re not an escort,” Harry nearly shouts, his voice edging on too much. He reigns it back in and mumbles an apology. “Sorry, I just… I don’t want to hear you talk about yourself like that.” Louis tuts, but he barrels on. “And in answer to your question, I’m asking you to date me. I’m asking you to be mine.” He shakes his head. “I’m not that guy, you know. I’m not… I’m not the guy that everyone seems to think I am.”

Louis’s expression softens. “I know that,” he murmurs, then he reaches forward and takes Harry’s hand in his. “I’m just arguing because I feel I need to. Like a self-preservation thing.” He sighs. “I want a reason to say no to you. Because I find it really fucking difficult to.”

Harry squeezes his hand. “I can help you, you know. I can help you get onto a PhD and I can help you support your family and I can…”

“Woah, woah, slow down, big guy.” Louis’s eyes are wide. “I’m not going to turn into a kept omega. I know my way of earning money isn’t the most traditional or whatever but I still make my money. I’m not going to just quit my job.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to take your money to spend time with you. That’s not fair either.”

“I’d pay more,” Harry insists. He feels a bit desperate at this point. “I’d pay whatever.”

“No,” Louis says, shaking his head. “You can’t ask that of me. I don’t want you to ask that of me. It’s not fair on you or me, do you understand?”

“All I understand is that I want you,” Harry tells him, shrugging. “If that means I have to wait until you find another job or if I need to support you if you choose to quit your job, I’ll do it.”

Louis kisses him. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” Louis huffs again, then he sighs. “God, why can’t it be easy?” He shakes his head. “It’s just… a lot, to be wanted by you.”

Harry blinks at him. “Why, because I’m a bit famous?”

“A bit famous,” Louis repeats with a snort. “Yes, Harry, you’re a bit famous.” He climbs into Harry’s lap properly and Harry welcomes him easily, winding his arms around his middle and tucking his face into the crook of his shoulder, taking a deep breath. The scent of Louis, the sweet scent of vanilla and berries and warmth that Harry’s so quickly come to adore, is so soothing to him, even if Louis isn’t telling him exactly what he wants to him. 

Right now, this is enough.

“God,” Louis moans as Harry scents him lightly, going lax in Harry’s hold. “Jesus, I could get used to this.”

“I want you to,” Harry whispers, knowing full well that if he tries any more protesting at this point, he’ll just be fighting a losing battle. If this is all Louis will allow him right now, he’ll happily take it. 

It’s a step in the right direction if nothing else. 

“I know,” Louis murmurs, his hands coming up to cradle the back of Harry’s head. “It’s not a no, Harry, let me be clear on that.” Harry’s heart leaps. “But it’s a not yet . Let me… let me work some things out before… before I let myself do what I promised I’d never do for an alpha.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Will you stay?”

Louis pulls his head back and looks at Harry carefully. “Is this on paid time or our time?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Harry answers. He licks his lips. “I won’t say no to either.”

“Our time,” Louis says, then smiles. “I’m here because I want to be.”

For lack of anything else to do or say, Harry kisses him. It starts off tame, closed-mouthed and soft, but pretty soon things get heated, tongues licking into each other’s mouths and hands clutching desperately at each other’s bodies. Harry can feel himself getting hard against Louis’s thigh and it doesn’t take long before he can smell that Louis is turned on too. 

“Baby,” he groans, pulling away from him with a grunt, using all the self-control he has to not take this further. “Baby, we need to slow down.”

Louis frowns down at him. “Uh, why?”

“Because I don’t want to stop and I can… feel things happening,” Harry says, glancing down at both their crotches. “Do you know what I’m saying?”

“Anyone with half a brain cell could get the hint of what you’re saying, fucking hell,” Louis grumbles. “I’m not a blushing virgin, you know, and I’m not averse to having sex with you again. I quite enjoyed it the first time, as it happens.”

Harry gulps. “Yeah, but this is like…” He gestures between them again. “If I have sex with you now, then I’m not gonna let you go and have sex with another alpha again because… well, you know as well as I do that I just can’t.” He shakes his head. “I know you’re your own person and we’ve just had this long chat establishing that we’re not courting yet or anything, but I just… I just can’t.”

Louis tuts and slaps him lightly on the cheek. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“I… you’re not mad?” Harry stares at him, nerves sitting heavy in his stomach. He doesn’t want to upset Louis before anything’s even started between them but he just can’t sleep with him and then let him go. It goes against literally all his biological programming. 

“Harry, babe, like it or not I’ve spent quite a lot of time around alphas,” Louis says, his tone of the cusp of being condescending. He sighs. “But fine. No sex.” He wiggles in Harry’s lap and whimpers. “Though not gonna lie, I’m so turned on right now I’m very tempted to quit my job.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Harry blurts without thinking, both his dick and his heart stirring at the thought. God, he’s so embarrassing. “Quit your job, give up your flat, whatever you need. I’ll look after you, pay for everything.”

Louis’s mouth drops open. “ What did we just talk about ?” he shrills, then scrabbles to clamber off Harry’s lap. “Are you fucking serious, Harry?”

Harry is deadly serious—he’d move Louis in and pay for everything he needs in a heartbeat—but he feels that probably isn’t the right answer. 

“Um.”

“Um,” Louis repeats, eyes like fire. Harry suddenly feels like the tables have turned, like he’s not the one in control anymore. “For fuck’s sake, Harry, do you have any idea what you’ve just asked me? Five minutes after you literally agreed not to ask it?”

“Um,” Harry says again, because he’s apparently an idiot who’s also gone catatonic. “Look, baby…”

“Don’t baby me,” Louis spits. “God, alphas are all the fucking same, aren’t they? You said you wouldn’t, and then you did literally two fucking seconds later. You really think you can buy me just like everyone else, don’t you? That right now I’m being a bit of a martyr but eventually I’ll be happy to jump from selling my arse for ruts to being your happy little house-omega, is that what this is?”

“I don’t want to buy you,” Harry insists, standing up and taking a step towards Louis, who takes a swift step backwards. “I didn’t think, Louis, I’m so sorry…”

“No, you didn’t bloody think, did you?” Louis tuts, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Harry, I don’t know what you want me to say to that, like…” He groans. “God, I’m so fucking angry at you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says again. “I respect your decision to not just quit your job, I promise I do. I’m just upset for myself, because I…” He trails off and takes a deep breath. “I just want you so much. I don’t have a better excuse than that.”

“Oh, I see,” Louis drawls, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Poor little alpha rockstar isn’t used to not getting what he wants, is this it?”

“No,” Harry snaps. He can feel himself getting heated, partly because he knows he’s fucked up and partly because he knows Louis is never going to let him forget this. “I just forgot myself for a second because you’re so much. I don’t want you to quit your job on my account.”

“Okay, I won’t.” Louis spins on his heels and grabs his coat from where it’s draped over one of the dining chairs. “Have a nice life, Harry. It’s been fun getting to know you. The next few weeks are going to be hell while we get used to being apart from one another again, but I’m sure if you need someone to comfort you, you know the number to call by now.”

“ No ,” Harry shouts, which makes them both freeze. It’s not quite his alpha voice but it isn’t far off. “ Fuck, I’m sorry. Just… please don’t leave. Please.”

“I have to,” Louis says, and his voice cracks on the final word. “I can’t be here anymore, I’m sorry.”

“Louis, please.” Harry isn’t below begging at this point. “You can’t leave, I’m so sorry…”

Louis shakes his head and unlocks the door with trembling hands. “Bye, Harry. Don’t call me.”

“Louis!” 

The door slams behind him but Harry rushes to yank it back open. It’s too late though, because as he tries to chase Louis down, he’s already in the lift, the doors closed as he disappears down and out of the building, out of Harry’s life forever. 

He’s gone.  

He stumbles back into his flat, not really paying any mind to whether the door closes or not, and he collapses onto his sofa with his head in his hands. 

What the fuck is he meant to do now?

Louis said he’s not coming back. He said he’s leaving and he’s not coming back and Harry can’t… he can’t live like that. 

He’s never felt so distressed in his life. It’s like his skin is too tight on his bones, his head too heavy on his shoulders, and he can’t fucking breathe . He can barely breathe without Louis anyway and now Louis is gone. 

Louis is gone. 

Louis is gone and he isn’t coming back and it’s all Harry’s fault. 

The best thing that’s ever happened to him has just walked away and it’s all because Harry couldn’t keep his stupid alpha mouth shut. 

If he wasn’t quite sure about them being soulmates before, he is absolutely convinced now. The pain he feels across every inch of his body is unbearable, like his limbs are being pulled in different directions and his organs are going to fall out of him. It’s a pain like he’s never experienced before, not even like when he was seven and his mum told them they were moving away and his dad wouldn’t be living with them anymore. It felt like his world was caving in that day, but that felt nothing like this.o

This pain is unique and unbearable and awful and he wonders if Louis is feeling even a smidgen of this, that this is what he meant when he said that the next few weeks are going to be hell. It’s hell whenever they’re apart for a night, let alone a prolonged period of time, and now they’re going to be apart… well, permanently, by the sounds of it. 

He’s hurt Louis and now he’s hurting for both of them, for the hurt he’s caused and for the hurt that’s going to continue for however long they’re apart. He can feel it in his heart that Louis is also distressed, hurt and anguished, and it’s all Harry’s fucking fault. It’s all his fault and that only serves to make him angrier and more riled up and desperate just to hold Louis, kiss him and apologise and tell him it’s all going to be okay. 

He’s only been gone for five minutes and he’s already pining. 

Except this is past the point of pining. Pining is all he’s done for the past couple of months before Louis was properly his. Pining describes the sleepless nights and the hazy days he spent wondering how Louis is doing and counting down the minutes until they’re back together again. And today felt like a step towards them actually moving out of the pining stages and towards a relationship, only for it all to come crashing down on them both in one fell swoop. 

They’re soulmates , for crying out loud. They’re going to come together eventually and they both know it, but his own selfish, pig-headed desperation took over. They may be soulmates but they’re also people, people who have been living two very lives, neither of which were conventional. And all Louis asked for was a little bit of time and Harry couldn’t even give him that before opening his big fat mouth and ruining everything. 

He’s such a fucking knothead . 

Without even realising it he’s crying, tears pouring down his cheeks like he’s a child again. He feels like everything he’s ever loved has been taken from him in one go. like everything he’s ever wanted, worked towards, needed, has been plucked from his arms and he didn’t do anything to stop it. 

He’s worked himself up to the point of no return, shaking and sobbing and trembling. He feels like he doesn’t know where he is, but he does know that he’s in a room that once had Louis in it because he can smell him ever so faintly. He tries burying his face in the sofa cushion and in the blanket he used to nap under, but it’s not enough. He needs more. He needs Louis. 

His head is spinning from everything having gone from zero to a hundred miles an hour in barely any time at all. His mouth feels dry, his hands shaking as they try to grip something that isn’t there. 

Louis isn’t there. 

But then he is there. 

He can smell him before he sees him, the familiar wave of summer and berries bringing him back to earth for a split second. 

He’s there. 

“Harry?” 

The sound Harry lets out is somewhere between a growl and a whine, possessive but desperate at the same time.

It’s Louis. It has to be Louis. 

That smell can only be Louis, that’s for sure. 

He opens his arms and blindly reaches for him, but the warm body never comes. He’s in the room somewhere but he doesn’t come to him, not yet. 

“Harry, love, you’re dropping,” Louis’s voice says slowly, matter-of-fact. Harry doesn’t care about what he’s saying, he just needs him. “Harry. Love. Do you want me here? Do you need me here?”

Louis’s voice sounds tentative and Harry hates it. “Lou,” he grunts, opening his arms again. He can’t stop shaking. “Louis. Need Lou.”

“Okay,” the faraway voice says, then suddenly there’s a warm body pressing itself into his arms, wrapping around his neck. His body instinctively reaches up and cuddles him in, nose twitching. “Harry, it’s me. It’s Louis. You can scent me, darling, you have my permission.”

Harry doesn’t need telling twice. He plunges his nose into where his brain is telling him to, practically smacking his head off whatever bit of body he crashes into. 

It’s a surreal experience, unlike anything he’s ever gone through before. He feels like he’s floating as Louis cradles him to his chest, letting him scent him and hold him, all the while murmuring words of promise and reassurance, reminding Harry that he’s here. Louis is here and Harry’s safe now, safe with him and he isn’t going anywhere, never ever again. 

It’s surreal indeed, but he finally feels like he’s breathing again.  

In and out. In and out. In and out. It’s raggedy and choked and his chest still hurts, but he can breathe again.

At some point, he feels the arms around him start to shift away and he whimpers, but then he feels a gentle kiss pressed into his cheek. “Let’s get you to bed, love,” Louis murmurs, then carefully coaxes him up and leads him away from there, presumably towards the bedroom. 

He doesn’t stop touching Harry even as he helps him use the toilet and brush his teeth, and eventually they topple into bed together, Harry clutching the omega to his chest like he’s scared he’s going to lose him again. 

It’s one of the weirdest nights of Harry’s life. It’s like he’s gone to sleep drunk and he’s woken up hungover, but he already can’t think of what led him to feeling like this. All that matters is he can smell the most calming scent in the world and every time his body begins to feel like it wants to panic again that sweet aroma, whatever it is, washes over him and reminds him that it’s all going to be okay. 

The morning comes eventually, several long hours later. Harry isn’t sure if he even sleeps properly or if he just drifts in and out of consciousness, but it’s definitely a weird feeling when he blinks his eyes open and it’s light outside. 

He’s in his bed but he’s still wearing last night’s clothes, his T-shirt sodden with sweat and sticking to his chest and back uncomfortably. His hair is greasy and feels disgusting as he runs a confused hand through it. 

He blinks at the ceiling several times, unmoving, and then he hears a long, sleepy sigh from under the duvet next to him and he nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“ Shit,” he breathes out, rolling over so fast the duvet falls to the floor. “L-Louis?”

Louis blinks awake sleepily. “Hi,” he croaks, shaking his head against the pillow as he wakes up properly. “Oh god, oh Harry.”

“Hey,” Harry says, opening his arms so Louis can crawl into them, grunting as Louis hugs him so tightly it knocks the wind out of him a bit. “Hey, hey, darling. What’s the matter?” He pauses. “Why… are you sleeping in here?”

Louis’s head flies up. “What do you mean, why am I here?” he shrills. His eyes are wide; angry, almost. “ Harry.”

And then it hits him. 

“Oh my god,” Harry breathes out, hand coming up to cradle the back of Louis’s head to his chest. “Oh my god, holy fuck. Lou.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Louis whimpers. “ Fuck. I’m so glad you’re back with me. I was so scared.”

“Shit,” Harry says again. “I don’t… I don’t understand, Louis. What happened?”

“You dropped,” Louis whispers, voice so quiet compared to how it was a few moments ago. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Harry. Alpha drop is so… god, it was so horrible to see. You were just, like, crying for me and rocking back and forth. It was bloody awful.”

Harry has no words. 

He’s never dropped before, never even thought it would be an issue for him because it happens so rarely, and even now he can’t think of what sent him over the edge like that. 

Alpha drop isn’t a common thing by any means. Omega drop is a lot more frequent and well researched and comes with its own stigmas, occurring when the omega is scared or hurt enough that their body essentially shuts down to protect itself. The best way to coax them out of this state is for an alpha to keep them close, protect them and scent them. 

But alpha drop is essentially a state where an alpha works themselves up to a point of no return, usually triggered by the idea that they’re losing their omega for good. It’s been known to turn alphas completely feral and typically presents itself in a violent outburst or an uncontrollable fit of tears. 

It looks as if Harry’s drop presented as the latter, which is probably the silver lining, if one can be found. Harry’s not a violent man and he couldn’t live with himself if Louis had seen him become violent or even, god forbid, he became violent with Louis. Just the thought is enough to make him want to throw up. 

Harry has no idea if Louis has ever dropped, but it’s something that most omegas at least know a bit about when they present and they take their gender-specific sex education classes in school. He certainly wasn’t taught much about alpha drop in his classes when he’d presented as an alpha. He wonders if Louis reacted by treating him like he’d treat an omega who had dropped, or whether he’d just appeared and let Harry scent him and hold him because of their connection. 

Louis moves back and takes Harry’s face between his hands. They stare at each other intensely for a few moments and then Louis leans forward, pressing kisses all over Harry’s face. “Don’t…” Kiss. “Do…” Kiss. “That…” Kiss. “To…” Kiss. “Me…” Kiss. “Ever again.” His nails dig into Harry’s cheeks. “Ever again, Harry, I mean it.”

“No.” Harry shakes his head and squeezes Louis even tighter. “Never ever again.”

They don’t say anything for a while, just lie there holding each other, and Harry tries to process what happened to him.  

He just can’t believe he dropped . 

He dropped and he dropped hard by the sound of things, and Louis ended up back at his flat somehow and picked up the pieces. He was there and he came back to him and put him back together because… because is that what made him drop?

“You left,” he says bluntly, and he feels Louis freeze in his hold. “We had a fight and you left and I had, like, a panic attack or something. And then I dropped.”

There’s a few moments of tense silence but after a bit Louis nods against his chest, swallowing audibly. “That did happen, yes. We did have a fight and it was…” His grip in Harry’s shirt tightens. “It wasn’t good. It made me feel like shit.”

Harry whimpers. He feels like he should be the one who feels like shit and he kind of does. “I remember,” he croaks. “I’m so sorry, Lou.”

“Don’t apologise,” Louis tells him with a shake of his head. “I must have been a right prick back to you for you to… for it to have made you drop.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Harry says, a bit dazedly. His chest feels tight just remembering it. Looking back, they may have both overreacted, but Harry remembers feeling like a part of his soul was walking out the flat and never coming back. He really believed Louis wasn’t coming back. “I thought I’d lost you, like, pushed you away to the point where you didn’t want anything to do with me ever again and that you couldn’t forgive me and I just… it ached, I remember it aching. Like physical pain throughout my whole body and I just felt like I was shutting down.”

“Jesus,” Louis mutters. “I didn’t think it would be that bad, I really didn’t. I just… I can’t even explain, Harry. I got back to my flat and it felt like I’d been fucking stabbed in the chest. My entire body ached because I wasn’t with you anymore and I couldn’t stop crying.” He scrubs a hand over his face and Harry’s grip on him tightens. “And then I got this, like, I don’t even know. It’s like you just said - it was like pain but not physical pain. I can’t explain it. I just knew I had to come back and then Niall called me.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbles. He slides his hand under the bottom of Louis’s shirt, fingers smoothing over the warm skin there. “God, Louis, I can’t even explain how sorry I am.”

Louis snorts. “For what, sunshine? Because we’re probably definitely soulmates who can’t live without each other, apparently?”

“No,” Harry sighs, kissing his forehead. “For saying what I said and causing this whole mess.” He hangs his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, can you tell?”

“Harry,” Louis murmurs. He pecks him on the lips and shuffles closer, hooking their ankles together. “I don’t know what I’m doing either. I just know I wanna do it with you.” He takes a deep breath. “I think… god, okay. I could cry just saying this but like. I want to quit my job.”

Harry’s mouth drops open. His heart leaps in his chest. “You do?”

Louis nods, his grip on Harry tightening. “Yes, I do. I wanna be with you, like long-term. And last night was crazy, fucking crazy, but I can’t imagine…” His voice cracks and Harry scrabbles to pull him closer. He doesn’t think he’ll ever feel close enough to this omega. “Harry, if anything had happened to you, it would destroy me too. And I don’t think I realised how much it would have destroyed me until I saw you last night.”

“Same,” Harry mumbles. “I never want to lose you, never ever. I’ve never felt like I did last night before. I’ve never even come close to dropping like that, Jesus. I just… I couldn’t cope with the idea that I’d hurt you or could have pushed you away when I feel like I need you… I need you to breathe. ”

Louis chuckles wetly, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Me too. God, I never… I never imagined feeling like this about anyone but…” He snorts. “I mean, clearly our souls had other ideas.”

Harry laughs and kisses a couple of the stray tears on Louis’s face away. “Yeah, same. Finding you has changed my life and I don’t want to ever be without you.” He kisses Louis on the lips, smiling into the kiss as Louis grips his cheeks and curls even closer into him. “I’m so happy when I’m with you, Lou. I’m so happy to have you. And I’m so fucking sorry, by the way. I should never have said what I said to you yesterday. I wasn’t thinking at all and it was totally spur of the moment, but I said it because I meant it.”

Louis cuts in with a kiss. “I know,” he says gently, shaking his head. “And maybe I overreacted, I dunno.”

“I think you were fully within your rights to act like that.” Harry takes a deep breath, then sighs. He’s so angry at himself for letting it get to this point. “You specifically asked me not to do that, and I did it within ten minutes of you asking me that. What a dick move.”

“Maybe,” Louis muses. “It wasn’t your finest hour, stud, but it also wasn’t mine. I threw a strop like a bloody teenager.”

“It was justified,” Harry insists again, but Louis cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

“Harry, I don’t love my job,” he says quietly, carefully. “I love being independent, sure, but I don’t like what I do to maintain independence. And last night…” His voice cracks slightly on the final word, and Harry holds him tighter. “Last night, when you’d fallen asleep and I was holding you and, like, looking at you…”

“Creepy,” Harry chimes in. Louis swats at him. 

“Look, this is the most gushy I’m ever going to be so you can take it or leave it, stud.”

“I would like to take it, please,” Harry says with a smile.

“I know you’ll not make me stay as a kept omega,” Louis continues, licking his lips. “I know you’ll let me have freedom to do what I want and be what I want and you won’t make me give up my flat or anything.”

“Not at all,” Harry says with a shake of his head. “I want you to be happy, Lou, that’s all I want.”

“I know,” Louis says, then rests one of his little hands over Harry’s heart. Harry wonders if Louis feels the way his heart leaps. “Fuck, like, when I was holding you in my arms last night my brain was going at a thousand miles an hour thinking of all the terrible things that could have happened if I wasn’t able to get into your flat.”

“How did you get into my flat?” Harry wonders aloud. 

Louis snorts. “Niall, obviously. An alarm went off because you hadn’t closed the front door properly and the concierge called him, who then called me because he couldn’t get through to you. Then he came and picked me up and gave me a stern talking to.” He brushes a floppy piece of hair out of Harry’s face and Harry can’t help but lean into the touch. “Told me that he’d been your friend since childhood and you’ve never been like this about anyone before. And that when you went to America after our first time together, you were in pieces the whole trip.”

“I was,” Harry admits. “I thought I was never gonna see you again.”

“I cried,” Louis whispers. “I cried when I got back to my flat after your rut and I cried again listening to Niall talk about you in the car last night. Whether I’m angry with you or not, I still think you’re the best alpha I’ve ever met.”

“I like to think so.” Harry goes to kiss Louis, but Louis shakes his head quickly.

“Can I just finish?” 

Harry nods. “Of course, sweetheart.”

That makes Louis blush. “I like sweetheart,” he comments, smiling softly. “I don’t… I did always wonder how I’d feel about pet names and if I’d always find them sleazy, but I liked that one.”

Harry can’t not kiss him at that. “But talk to me, yeah? If you like a name or hate something I call you, tell me.”

Louis moans happily. “See, this is what I was just about to say,” he tells him, cupping his face. “Niall was flapping around and giving me all these instructions last night and do you know what he signed it off with?” 

Harry shakes his head. 

“He looked at me and went, ‘Harry is the best alpha I’ve ever known, you know. I don’t know why you argued, but I do know that he’s going to be so fucking sorry and that he’d literally do anything for you in a fucking heartbeat.’” He shrugs. “So, I just thought fuck it. I’ve got you fucking dropping because you were so distressed at the idea we’d never see each other again and there’s me, hating my job and arguing with the best alpha I’ve ever met, and for what?”

“I get it though,” Harry mumbles. “I mean, on a realistic level, asking someone you’re not even dating yet to quit their job was quite fucking ridiculous.”

“Well, quite,” Louis tuts. “But I mean, if the offer still stands for you to, like, court me, I’d very much like to take you up on that offer.”

Harry smiles so wide his face hurts. 

“Can we just start over then?” he asks. “Like not totally over, because I’d like to keep you in my bed, but pretend we didn’t have that argument and last night didn't happen.”

“Not gonna lie, I think I’m gonna remember last night for the rest of my life,” Louis says dryly, laughing awkwardly. “But yes, let’s not fight anymore. Please.” He yawns and then shakes his head. “I am gonna quit my job though. I don’t… I don’t think being stubborn is worth it to not have you how I want you, as much as I wanna be stubborn.”

Harry chuckles and kisses Louis again. He’s so obsessed with this boy . “You’re so lovely, you know that?”

“I’m aware,” Louis grins, kissing the corner of Harry’s mouth. Then he frowns, curling in on himself a bit. “I wanna quit my job but I don’t want this to be an excuse for you to, like, try and move me in or pay for everything or whatever. And I definitely want to keep my flat for now.”

“Of course,” Harry says. “That makes sense. Like, I think we will go the distance but realistically we’ve not really started dating yet.”

“Exactly,” Louis hums. “I might hate you in six months time.”

“ Hey.”

“Oh, calm your tits,” Louis tuts, giggling again. Harry can’t help but soften when Louis giggles—he’s so gone —but he knows Louis is joking. He’s pretty sure that Louis couldn’t do anything that would split them up, especially if he’s willing to stay after seeing Harry in the state he was in last night. “And anyway, you’re right. I think we need to trial this out because, like, this is a really big deal for me.”

“Of course,” Harry nods. “And I will help in any way that I can, of course, but feel free to tell me to fuck off if I’m overstepping.”

“Oh, I will,” Louis assures him. He pats his cheek. “I hope you know you’re not getting into a relationship with a pansy who will just let you make all the decisions and shit. This is a two-way street, stud, and I want to make that clear in case you were under any sort of illusions.”

“Sweetheart, I am under no illusions,” Harry laughs. “I am very aware you’re the boss here. I’m just here for the ride.”

“Good,” Louis says, then throws a leg over Harry and climbs on top of him, pinning his arms above his head. Harry could break his hold in a second if he wanted to, but he absolutely, categorically does not want to. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.”

Harry grins at the ceiling dopily, letting Louis kiss down his body and do as he pleases, and thinks that he might just be the luckiest bloke in the entire world. 

He could get very used to this indeed. 

*

The second time Louis sleeps over properly is the first night they stay up all night talking. Harry was all geared up to sleep, lying on his back with Louis tucked under an arm, his fingers brushing through the hair on Harry’s chest. He feels very content, warm and happy and safe. 

But Louis isn’t ready to sleep just yet. 

“Hey,” he murmurs into the darkness, then nips at the skin where the tattoo of the birdcage sits on Harry’s ribs. “I listened to your album last night.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry looks down at him, combing his fingers through the hairs at the base of Louis’s neck. “What did you think?”

“I think you’ve got a cracking voice,” Louis chuckles, nudging closer so he can hike a leg over Harry’s. There’s absolutely no space between them at this point. “And I think you’re a cracking songwriter and all.”

“Thanks, sunshine.” Secretly Harry is preening with pride at the idea that Louis likes it. “Maybe I’ll write the next one about you, if you play your cards right.”

“Oi, dickhead,” Louis scowls, then nips at him harder. “I’m the light of your life, remember? Who begged me into this relationship again?”

“I did,” Harry drawls, leaning down so he can capture Louis’s pouting lips into a quick kiss. “And before you ask, no I haven’t started writing it yet. There’s nothing for you to over analyse.”

“You haven’t started writing it?” Louis asks. “Why?”

Harry shrugs against the pillows. “Dunno. Been busy, I guess, and if I’m honest I’ve not been hugely inspired.”

“Excuse me, Harold,” Louis says hotly. “What’s more inspiring than having me come into your life?”

“Nothing, darling,” Harry laughs. “Nothing could be more inspiring than you.”

“Good,” Louis says, kissing his rib cage again. “Anyway, what was the album about then?”

Harry closes his eyes, throwing his free arm over his eyes. “Having sex and feeling sad.”

“Having sex and feeling sad,” Louis repeats. Harry doesn’t have to see him to know he’s frowning. “Who were you having sex with that was making you sad?”

Harry shrugs again. “Not you,” he says, then cracks open one eye when Louis jabs him sharply on the nipple. “Ow.”

“Obviously not me,” Louis titters, pulling a face at him. “Come on, tell me. I need to know who I need to square up to for upsetting my man.”

“Square up to,” Harry parrots, then snorts. “Yeah, alright.”

He’s barely got time to compose himself before Louis is scrabbling out of his arms and clambering on top of him, straddling him and pinning his arms above his head to the pillow, which makes him squawk. 

They both know it would take zero effort from Harry to break that hold, but Harry quite likes it. The way Louis feels comfortable enough to do this with him on only their second sleepover is kind of hot. 

“What are you doing?”

“Squaring up to you,” Louis says hotly. “Now tell me who your album is about. I wanna know.”

“There isn’t really anyone in particular,” Harry answers honestly. “It’s just like… back when I was writing that album I was kinda numb. I was moving between here and LA a lot more for shoots and meetings and whatever, and that was just before I put my foot down and said no more PR stunts. No more pap walks with random omegas I’d never see again.” 

“PR stunts?” Louis frowns. “You were doing PR stunts?”

Harry snorts. “If you ever thought I was in a real relationship with any of those omegas I got set up with, then I’m a better actor than I thought.”

“I never really thought about it, to be honest,” Louis says. “But it’s nice to know you haven’t got a host of famous exes for me to compete against.”

“There’s no competition anywhere, baby,” Harry promises. “You’re the only one who matters.”

It’s dark in the bedroom, but Harry doesn’t miss the way Louis’s cheeks turn pink. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he grins. 

“I know,” Harry grins back. “But anyway, I was travelling loads and this place was actually being redone at the time so I couldn’t live here. My mum lives too far away up north for me to stay with her. So I was bouncing around between hotel rooms and the beds of strangers, really. It sucked.”

“Is that why you’re so protective around letting people inside your house?”

Harry nods. “This is my sanctuary, you know? When I stepped back in here after all the renovations were finished, I actually cried. It felt like I was finally home after years away.”

“You’re cute,” Louis says. He keeps his grip firm on Harry’s wrists but he ducks down and kisses him soundly. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, mostly for lack of anything else to say. “I know it’s like super first world problem-y, but it was rough for me for a bit.” He grins up at Louis, who is an absolute vision above him. “But I’m good now. Much better. I have my home back and I have you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Louis says again. He shuffles back a little so the swell of his arse is resting over Harry’s dick, a gorgeous warm presence on top of him. Harry groans but stays put. “And let me ask you this. When you told Jimmy Fallon you would date a fan, was that a lie?”

“Jesus,” Harry mutters. “You’ve done some research, haven’t you?”

“Needed to look properly into what I was getting myself into, didn’t I?”

Harry sighs. He hates that question at the best of times, but hearing it from Louis is something else. “I mean, I think at this point I’d struggle to find someone who didn’t know who I was before I date them given how I live my life. It’s just, like, whether they’re dating me because they want the kudos or the clout or money or whatever, or whether they’re actually interested in me.”

“So you wouldn’t date a fan,” Louis deadpans. “Good thing I’m not one.”

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “I mean, like, I think you have the perfect balance. You knew who I was when we met, and you didn’t pretend that you didn’t because that drives me fucking bonkers, but you’re here…”

“I’m here because we’re connected in body and soul,” Louis simpers. Harry nudges him with his foot. “Yeah, alright, stud. I’m here because I like you despite the fact you’re rich and famous and shit.”

“You like me?” Harry pulls a face. “That’s pretty sappy.”

“Fuck you.” Louis settles back and leans down to kiss him softly, letting go of his wrists so Harry can hold him properly. He grips Louis by the hips and rolls them over so he’s hovering over him, tangling their legs together and kissing him with fire. “My omega likes you. I think you’re pretty average.” 

“Fuck you,” Harry echoes, pulling Louis closer and kissing him with bite. 

“ Also ,” Louis breaks the kiss and glares at him, which makes Harry sigh dramatically. He isn’t finished then. “You can’t get angry at me, knothead, if there’s literally an album out there about you having sex with other people.”

“It makes us even, baby,” Harry tells him, grinning like an idiot as Louis bats him away and pushes him off so he’s lying against the pillows again. Louis’s logic doesn’t always make sense to him, but he’s fucked if he’s going to argue. “We all have pasts.”

Louis cocks an eyebrow. “So it’s fine if it’s you and everyone in the world knows about your past, but when it’s me, the little omega, we don’t tell people because it makes you jealous?”

“That’s a reach, baby,” Harry hums. “Nobody actually knows about the past anyway. All my relationships before you were PR too, you know. You’re my first boyfriend.”

“Shame I came into your life after your album’s all finished then,” Louis drawls. “Think of the songs you’d be able to write when you’ve actually got someone worth writing for.”

“I agree,” Harry says, pressing a firm hand into the small of Louis’s back and dragging him closer, so he’s practically lying on top of Harry. “My third album will make me global, I’m sure. The sappiest collection of love songs to rival the likes of Lionel Richie, Whitney Houston, Adele…”

“I feel like you’re mocking me and quite frankly I don’t appreciate it,” Louis says, poking Harry in the belly button and making him squirm. “So come on, I feel like I need to hear it. The Harry Styles story.”

“The Harry Styles story,” Harry repeats dryly. “Like, my life story or what.”

“What led the illustrious, soon-to-be-world famous Harry Styles to write an album about having sex and feeling sad after five years away from music and a vast change from smash pop hit, What Makes You Beautiful?

“ Hey,” Harry pouts. “I’m still very proud of What Makes You Beautiful, you know, and it means a lot to me. It’s not really my current sound, granted, but I’ve never done and nor will I ever do a set without it.”

“I do apologise,” Louis says sweetly, his tone hinting on sarcastic. “You’re right, those lyrics were very meaningful. I am insecure, after all.”

“Lou,” Harry scolds gently. “Don’t be insecure.”

“Amazing,” Louis drawls. “Twenty-six and a half years on this planet and Harry Styles has finally told me not to be insecure in person, so I'm cured.”

“Lou.”

Louis giggles and kisses Harry’s jaw. “I’m teasing. Tell me your story, come on.”

“Only if you’re nice to me,” Harry says, eyeing him carefully. “No pokes in the belly button, nipple cripples, only nice soft kisses.”

Louis shuffles up and slams their lips together, using both hands to keep his face in position so Harry can’t move his head away even if he wants to. When he pulls away with a loud, smacking sound, he smirks up at Harry and flings a leg over his middle so they couldn’t be any closer even if they wanted. “Happy?”

Harry grins, pulls Louis even closer, and begins to tell his story. 

*

It’s a rare day off for Harry today and he’s woken up to an empty bed. 

Frowning, Harry blinks himself awake and then scrabbles for his phone, but he doesn’t have a text from him. Then, he rolls over to Louis’s side of the bed and spots the corner of a post-it note that’s nearly fallen down the back of the bed. 

Back in an hour ◟̽◞̽ will bring breakfast xx

Harry frowns even harder. He hasn’t woken up without Louis beside him since they started seeing each other and it’s almost always him that gets out of bed first, whether that’s because he needs to go to work or he’s going for a run. He’s always been an early to bed, early to rise kind of person, and Louis is definitely not . 

Louis is absolute garbage at getting out of bed in the morning. Every time Harry’s alarm goes off he’s the first to complain, or if Harry ever tries to sneak out of bed and accidentally wakes him he gets an absolute earful. Come to think of it, he can’t think of a night he’s not fallen asleep and woken up with Louis in his arms, not even to get up for a wee. 

Louis also sleeps like the dead, so there’s no chance that he woke up for an alarm that Harry slept through. 

So where the hell is Louis?

He gets up out of bed and pads through to the en-suite bathroom to have a quick wee, then he heads through to the kitchen and starts making himself a cup of coffee. 

There’s an empty mug next to the dishwasher, so he’s definitely had a cuppa before heading on his way. Harry tries not to overthink too much—Louis is a grown-up who’s survived 26 years without an alpha, after all—but he’s still a little confused that Louis hadn’t mentioned anything to him the evening before. 

As he’s having a day off, he settles in on the sofa with his coffee and switches on the TV, choosing a murder mystery documentary he’s been meaning to watch for a bit. 

It’s about five minutes from the end when Louis reappears, shouting a hello and then appearing a few seconds later. He’s got sunglasses perched on his head, a paper bag from a bakery not too far away in his hand, and a great big smile on his face. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he says chirpily, kicking off his shoes at the doorway and making a beeline for Harry, who barely has time to put his almost-empty coffee mug on the coffee table before he has a lapful of boyfriend. “I got us a bacon sandwich each and then a chocolate croissant each too, and if you don’t want yours I’ll have it, you health freak.”

“Hello to you too,” Harry says, puckering his lips just in time for Louis to twist in his lap and kiss him. “Thanks for this. What’s the occasion?”

Louis grins as he hands Harry over his sandwich. “Well, my dear Harold, I’ve been very busy.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry unwraps his bacon sandwich and takes a bite. It’s perfect, in thick cut bread and with just a light touch of brown sauce, just how he likes it. “Where have you been?”

“First, I had a doctor’s appointment,” Louis says, then takes a bite out of his sandwich, chewing slowly. “I’m fine, by the way, put those panicked eyes away.”

“But what for?” Harry asks, immediately concerned. 

“A sexual health screening,” Louis tells him, then takes another massive bite of sandwich. He takes Harry’s hand in his free one as he finishes his mouthful. “A full one. For everything, like HIV, pregnancy and stuff. The full works.”

Harry feels himself tense up. “Um. Okay, that’s, um, good?”

Louis shoots him a look. “Yes, Harry, it is good. Because then I can swap to a different birth control, one that lets me have proper heats.”

“You don’t have heats?” Harry asks. 

Louis shakes his head. “I have, like, soft ones, I guess you could call them. Every couple of months I go through this thing where I’m really weepy and achy and horny, like I feel like I should be in heat, but I’m not.” He shrugs. “It’s not good to stay on the birth control I’m currently on for too long if I can help it. It’s just the best one I’ve found for, you know, doing the job I used to.”

Harry beams at him. The fact that Louis feels comfortable enough to do this now makes it sound like he’s thinking about spending his heats with Harry, which is some serious relationship shit right there. “So when do you get the results?”

“By next Monday,” Louis says. “I usually get a sexual health check every fortnight because… well, you know why, but I’ve been a bit lax recently. Been a bit distracted.”

“That was careless of you,” Harry hums, leaning forward and giving him a brief kiss. “What could possibly have been so distracting?”

“Some dickhead alpha who can’t take his hands off me.” Louis grins and pops the rest of his sandwich into his mouth before Harry’s able to kiss him again. “Anyway. Once I get the results, I’ll know I’m completely clean. Which means…” He scratches lightly at Harry’s chest, “I won’t need condoms. The next person I have sex with can fuck me bare.”

Harry’s heart starts beating in his ears. “That’s some pretty serious relationship shit right there,” he says. Louis nods. 

“Isn’t it?” he says drolly. “Hadn’t thought of that. The next person I sleep with better be someone I’m pretty serious about, then.”

Harry digs his fingers into Louis’s sides and hauls him closer, cackling as Louis shrieks and tries to bat him off. They end up tangled together with Louis’s wrists pinned above his head while Harry hangs over him, grinning at him proudly.

Louis wants to let him fuck him without a condom and that’s really some serious relationship shit right there. 

The funny thing is, Harry hasn’t even really been thinking about having sex with Louis all that much. 

And given that they’ve already slept together during Harry’s rut, it takes them a bit of time before they have sex with each other again. 

Even when Louis’s results come back (clean on all counts, so he’ll be able to swap to his new birth control once his current course has ended) they don’t jump into bed with each other straight away. It still feels like the early stages of a relationship, like they really are two best friends who’ve recently decided to take the step forward in becoming something more. 

It isn’t that either of them are reluctant to either, because they’re both clearly ridiculously attracted to one another and can barely keep their hands off either other when they’re in the same room, which these days is all the time. They’re always holding hands or pressed together in one way or another, and Harry quite honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. 

They wake up tangled together almost every morning, unless Harry has to leave bed early for work or for a call. They often lie in bed for hours in the morning or way into the night, talking about all topics from politics to pet peeves, learning about the ins and outs of one another, and it really feels like Harry’s gaining a new best friend as well as a lover. 

It might also have something to do with the fact that having sex used to be Louis’s entire life, something he didn’t do for fun, but rather for money. Harry hasn’t pressed much about it because he feels like Louis doesn’t really want to talk about it just yet, and because of that it feels more appropriate for Louis to be the one to initiate it. He wants to make sure it happens organically and on his terms. 

But on a realistic level, the celibacy was never going to last a long time. They’re both healthy young lads who are wickedly attracted to one another while also being  metaphysically connected in body and soul, so when they do come together it feels like a natural, perfectly timed progression. 

One night, after a particularly long day of meetings, Harry wants nothing more than a really greasy takeaway pizza, a cold beer, and a cuddle from his boyfriend. He hasn’t left his office in several hours and his back is killing him from being hunched over his desk all day, trying to look not bored as his merchandise team talked on and on about new sweatshirt designs that he should , but doesn’t give a fuck about. 

He hasn’t seen Louis since lunchtime, where he’d shoveled a round of cheese on toast down his throat and left Louis in the living room with the promise of a takeaway and his undivided attention later. And now he’s done for the day and all ready to cash in that promise, because it’s pretty much all he’s been thinking about the entire day. 

“Louis?” he calls as he steps out into the hallway. It’s dark, but he can see some light at the end of it, from the window but also from the big overhead light in the kitchen. “Louis, babe?”

Louis doesn’t answer but as Harry steps down the hallway he realises he can hear music coming from the speakers built into the kitchen units. Once he gets down to the kitchen he sees Louis waiting for him there, leaning coyly against the countertop with his lip between his teeth. He’s wearing nothing but one of Harry’s T-shirts, long on him so it reaches mid-thigh. 

“Hi, stud.”

“Louis,” Harry breathes out. The sunlight from outside is still fairly bright but the sun is on its way to setting, and the way the light hits his face makes him look ethereal. “You’re… fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Louis blushes and ducks his head, giggling lowly as he walks over to Harry and rests his hands on his hips. “Hi,” he says again, then giggles again as Harry wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling them close. It doesn’t feel like Louis is wearing anything underneath his shirt, which serves to make his heart beat faster. “How was your day, love?”

“Long,” Harry says with a groan, leaning forward so he can take a good long inhale of Louis’s scent. He instantly feels calmer and he can feel the heavy weight of today slowly melt away. “Boring. Exhausting.” He nuzzles into Louis’s neck. “You know, I feel like I should care about the merch I put out there, but I just don’t . Is that awful of me?”

Louis chuckles and nods against his chest. “You should care. Some people do come out with some truly horrendous merch. If you’re not careful you’ll end up with some diabolical stuff that all your fans will just roast you for on Twitter. Is that what you want?” 

Harry snorts. “I think some of the designs I saw today might fall into that category, not gonna lie,” he says, then he shakes his head. “Anyway. I don’t want to talk about work.” His hands travel down to cup Louis’s arse. “What did I do to deserve you looking like this, huh?”

“Well,” Louis says slowly, walking his fingers up Harry’s chest, hooking his index finger under one of Harry’s necklaces. “You said you wanted a night that was all about us tonight. And I was thinking…”

Harry squawks as Louis pushes their crotches together, leaning into Harry’s space, breath warm on his chin. “Y-yeah?”

Louis blinks up at him, the picture of gorgeous innocence. “Can we make it about us?”

“Yes, of course,” Harry says, leaning down to brush their lips together. “I was thinking we could order in from that pizza place down the road that you’ve wanted to try and then we’ve got the season finale of Peaky Blinders… ”

Louis fixes him with a look. “And after we’ve done all that, will you fuck me?”

Harry can’t help the weird, startled sound that comes out of his mouth. For some reason he hadn’t expected that request, but lord knows why when he’s got Louis like this. “You want to?”

Louis’s face scrunches up and he pulls a face, like he can’t quite believe Harry’s asking him that, and to be fair Harry can’t understand why either. “Harry. You don’t have to be a gentleman about this. Yes, I want to have sex with my boyfriend, even though we’ve already had sex and we’ve been sharing a bed for, like, three weeks.”

Harry grins sheepishly. “Yeah, alright. Fair enough.”

Louis giggles and tugs him down for a kiss. “You’re so lovely, you know that? My big softie alpha.”

“Hey. I’m rugged ,” Harry says with a pout. “I’m very manly and rough and not a softie.”

Louis’s back to pulling a face before Harry’s even finished his sentence. “Yeah, sure,” he scoffs. Then he leans up and tilts his head to whisper in Harry’s ear. “I like that you’re a softie. I like that you’re a big strong alpha manly man but you’ll take me to bed and make love to me because truthfully…” He leans back and looks Harry straight in the eye. “I’ve always wanted to be, like, taken to bed by an alpha knowing they’re going there for me, rather than just to have sex. And I feel like that’s what I’m gonna get with you.”

The familiar feeling of possessiveness is back in Harry’s belly, where he can’t hold Louis close enough, where he can’t bear the idea of anyone else ever going near him. “Of course,” he croaks, brushing his hand over Louis’s pink cheek. It doesn’t feel like the time to make a joke anymore. “Louis, of course I’ll make love to you. We’ll do anything you want.”

Louis giggles shyly and kisses him again, and as he goes to pull back Harry pulls him in again, kissing him languidly, trying to convey how he feels about him with actions rather than words. 

It’s been just over three weeks since he and Louis decided to give this a go, but Harry knows he won’t ever do this with anyone that isn’t Louis ever again. 

“I’ve never, like.” Louis cuts the kiss off and looks at Harry carefully, licking his lips. “It’s never been about me when I’ve had sex. Which is fine because I’m an omega and all…”

“What?” Harry stares at him, hurrying to shake his head. “No, no. It’s always about you too.”

Louis shrugs half-heartedly. “I mean, not when it’s literally your job to make sure alphas get off.”

Harry has to fight the urge to growl. “Not anymore though,” he says, voice edging on snappy. “Let me show you how it should be.”

“Such an alpha,” Louis starts to say, but he cuts himself off with a squawk as Harry lifts him up like a baby, arms around his waist, and Louis’s legs fly up to wrap themselves around Harry’s hips. “Jesus, definitely an alpha.”

“An alpha that’s about to make love to you,” Harry grunts. He makes quick work of moving them to their bedroom and he tosses Louis on the bed, crawling over him. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Louis winds his arms around Harry’s neck and nudges their noses together. “I like that you’re my alpha. I like that you can pick me up and carry me to the bedroom.” 

“Our bedroom,” Harry corrects. “Can I take your top off?”

Louis barks a laugh and it’s probably Harry’s favourite sound in the world. “Ever the charmer, aren’t you?”

“Listen, sunshine.” Harry smacks a kiss onto his lips and then leans back so he can toy with the bottom of the T-shirt. “Technically it’s my shirt so I’m just claiming it back.”

“Right,” Louis nods. “And if I told you I like wearing it because it smells like you? Does that change anything?”

“I think it probably would have this morning,” Harry laughs. “But right now I want you naked so I can make you feel good. Does that change anything?”

“You are such a sarcy bastard,” Louis tells him, but he obediently lifts his arms so Harry can slide the top off of him. Then he reaches down and fingers the bottom of Harry’s own top. “This better come off next.”

Once Louis is naked and Harry is down to just his underwear they kiss for a long time, the kind of kissing that makes Harry’s head spin, slow and intense and full of passion. It’s the kind of kissing that he feels he could do forever, especially with Louis. When they break apart with a loud smack of lips Harry can’t stop himself from pressing more kisses into Louis’s skin, all over his jaw and down to his neck and chest. 

“You’re beautiful,” he tells him, feeling a little bit light-headed with just how much he wants this. He knows they’ve already slept together but this certainly feels more like their first time. “You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Louis mewls happily as Harry sucks one of his nipples into his mouth, pink and sensitive. “Harry,” he moans. “Shit, no, I’m the lucky one.”

Harry shakes his head as he continues to kiss down his body, letting his kisses get longer and sloppier as he approaches the top of Louis's legs and crotch. “I will never get over how good you smell,” he murmurs. Down here, he can smell the sharp smell of Louis’s slick mixed with the scent of his pheromones that Harry already loves so much. “Can I touch you here?”

Louis nods his consent, so Harry starts to kiss further down-across his tummy, dipping his tongue into his belly button, then across to his thighs. He finally lets his eyes drop to Louis’s cock and he nearly gasps. 

He knows he’ll have already seen it while in rut, but now he has the time to properly appreciate it and it’s gorgeous, small and pink and so, so delicate like the rest of him. It’s probably no longer than Harry’s ring finger, definitely no thicker, and it stands hard between his legs. It makes Harry’s mouth water. 

The crisp white sheets under Louis’s arse are damp with slick already. Harry wants to bury his face down there and never come up for air. The smell is overwhelming in the best way and Harry licks his lips before ducking down and kissing the space just above Louis’s cock. 

“You’re seriously perfect,” he murmurs, looking up to meet Louis’s eyes. He curls a hand around his shaft and Louis whimpers. It practically disappears inside his fist. “Bet I could take you in my mouth and it wouldn’t feel like anything.”

Louis laughs breathily. “Maybe. I wouldn’t know.”

Harry pauses mid-kiss. “What do you mean?”

He glances up again, mouth open, to see Louis throw an arm over his red face. “Never had anyone put it in their mouth,”

“ What ?” Harry sputters out. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Louis huffs, propping himself up on an elbow so he can properly stare at Harry. He looks a little bit like a disgruntled kitten. “I mean that nobody has ever put it in their mouth before.”

“But…” Harry is stunned. Louis used to have sex for a living, for fuck’s sake, how did he never…

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Louis snaps, nudging him with his foot. “My job was to pleasure the alphas, not for them to pleasure me.”

Harry growls and Louis nudges him again. “Sorry. I just…” He moves back up Louis’s body and slams their mouths together, not very coordinated but it’s something he has to do. “You and me, yeah?” Louis nods. “Do you trust me to do this for you?”

Louis kisses him, cradling his face in both his hands. “I trust you.”

“I’m going to make it so good for you,” Harry promises, moving back to his original position and taking Louis’s cock back in his hand, giving it a few gentle tugs. “Here, put your hands in my hair.”

Louis groans lowly as Harry lowers himself down, suckling the head of Louis’s flushed cock into his mouth. His hands tighten in Harry’s hair as Harry sinks down, taking all of Louis’s length down in one motion easily, relishing in the way Louis lets out a guttural moan. 

It’s been a long time since Harry’s given someone head and an even longer time since he’s given head to someone with a dick. He’s almost forgotten how much he enjoys it - making sure someone gets off with just his mouth and his fingers - and that’s exactly how he intends to make Louis orgasm. He wants to fuck him desperately but he’s willing to put his own needs and wants aside at a time like this. He’s going to absolutely savour being the first (and last) person to do this to Louis.

If Louis’s only really had sex for other people’s pleasures, including their first time when Harry fucked him through his rut, then Harry’s going to make sure that he spends their time together fucking him for his pleasure. 

Louis fucking loses it. 

Now Harry knows that nobody has done this to Louis before, it’s kind of obvious. He reacts like he’s not used to being touched at all, his movements jerky and unsure and he’s making these gorgeous breathy moans, like he can’t control himself. 

But Harry remains firm—he grips both of Louis’s thighs in his hands and keeps Louis in his mouth, hot and heavy. His dick is short enough that Harry can slide down to Louis’s balls in one easy moment, and it doesn’t take long for him to build up rhythm, letting Louis’s hips help drive it in and out of his mouth. 

The smell of Louis’s slick is overwhelming in the best way and Harry keeps himself pressed down so he can drink it all in; the heady scent, his soft skin, his virgin cock that’s never been touched like this before. All of this is a new kind of pleasure and Harry knows he’ll never care as much about his own pleasure again as much he does Louis’s. He could spend the rest of his life like this and die a happy man. 

“Gorgeous boy,” Harry whispers, pressing a kiss into each thigh. “Gorgeous, gorgeous boy. I’m going to play with your arse now, is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis hiccups. “Fuck, Harry…”

Harry wastes no time in getting stuck in—he dives in with his tongue pressed out and starts licking at Louis’s waiting hole in earnest. He isn’t surprised to learn that Louis tastes as good as he smells and Harry feels hungry, positively starving, for it as he licks deeper, coaxing louder, more desperate moans from Louis’s mouth. 

His jaw starts to ache after a while but he’s loathed to stop, not when Louis seems this close to coming. His legs are trembling and he’s writhing under Harry’s hands, whining every time Harry’s tongue breaches his walls. 

Louis sobs as Harry moves back up and sucks his balls into his mouth, then brushes the pads of two fingertips over his twitching hole. Harry nudges the tip of his middle finger inside, just to the knuckle, and Louis moans. 

“ Fuck!”

“Am I hurting you?” Harry rushes out, pulling his finger away, but Louis shakes his head and croaks out a no. “Give me a second, let me get the lube.”

The lube is in the bedside drawer on Harry’s side so it’s easy for him to retrieve. Once he’s situated back between Louis’s legs he’s generous with applying it to his fingers, then he leans down and licks at the hole again, getting it plenty wet with spit before he uses his fingers to breach him again. 

One finger slides in easily, then another. Louis is so wet with slick that coupled with the lube it’s easy enough to slide them in, though he makes a mental note to add more before he puts his cock inside him, just to be sure. 

Harry presses his fingers apart in a scissoring motion, stretching him out so he’ll be able to slip in a third finger, and when he does he crooks them upwards towards where Louis’s spot is. 

Louis moans, long and broken, as Harry flexes his fingers up in search of his prostate. “ Harry. Yeahhhh, Harry, fuck .”

When he comes, it’s with another shuddering cry of Harry’s name and Harry swallows his cum easily, drinking it down before he pulls off Louis’s penis with a pop. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and then crawls back up so he’s hovering over Louis carefully. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, brushing the hair from his eyes. “Baby, you were so good for me, so good.” Louis whimpers and tilts his head up, brushing their lips together but not really a kiss. Harry smiles and leans back again, running his hand down Louis’s hot chest. “Darling, we don’t have to have sex if you’re too tired.”

There are tears pouring down Louis’s face, his chest is covered in marks and red splotches, and there’s sweat dripping down his forehead and temples, but he still manages to level Harry with a look that answers his question. 

“You better fuck me or I’m leaving you,” he croaks, making grabby hands for him. Harry slides up his body and pulls him closer by the hips as Louis winds his arms around Harry’s neck and kisses him. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t thank me,” Harry whispers, nudging his nose against his cheek. He’s so turned on and desperate to get inside Louis but he also wants to hold him for a bit. “This is how it is with us, you and me.”

Louis cups the back of his neck and pulls them closer, wrapping his legs around Harry’s middle. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, kissing him fiercely. “I have to thank you for that because that was… that was special, Harry. That was new and just…”

He trails off as Harry starts to press kisses into his skin, from his jaw to his neck and back up to his lips, gasping loudly as Harry thrusts upwards. He’s not trying to fuck into him, not yet, but Louis is so wet with slick that it’s effortless. 

“You’re perfect,” Harry mumbles, kissing down his jaw. Louis whimpers again as his hand trails down his body, feeling how warm and soft and sweaty his skin is, before Harry tucks it under his bum. “I can’t get over how perfect you are. How lucky I am to have you like this.”

“Kiss me,” Louis begs. “Kiss me then fuck me.”

Harry doesn’t need telling twice. He slams their lips together and lets Louis kiss him for as long as he needs, because he wants this to be all about him. As much as he wants to get to the main event, this isn’t about him. And if Louis wants to be kissed, then so be it. 

He’s painfully hard between his legs at this point, but after a bit Louis breaks the kiss with a giggle. 

“Calm down, caveman.”

“Huh?” Harry didn’t even realise he was basically humping his leg at this point. “Oh, sorry.”

Louis giggles again. He sounds hoarse and a little breathless, but he looks more with it than he did a few minutes ago. “You can fuck me, I’ve said I want to.”

Harry hesitates. “Let me get a condom, one second. Fuck.”

Louis props himself up on his elbows and glares at him as Harry scurries into the en-suite, swearing. “Who the fuck doesn’t keep their condoms in their bedside drawer?” he asks incredulously. “God, I’m having sex with a fucking weirdo.”

“Shut up,” Harry grunts as he finally locates the box he stashed away in the bottom drawer. “I put them in here after my rut because I didn’t think I’d need them again any time soon.”

“We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for three weeks and you didn’t think you’d need them again?”

“Listen, sweetheart,” Harry says as he scrambles back onto the bed, leaning back on his knees and fumbling with the packet. “I didn’t plan for this to happen. All I know is before I left for LA I made a point to just do a quick tidy of everything that reminded me of you, because it had been two hours and I was already losing the plot.”

Louis’s expression softens and he makes grabby hands for Harry. “You’re so sweet,” he grins as Harry shuffles back up the bed and kisses him, prick in hand and ready to push inside Louis. Louis smiles into the kiss but doesn’t let it last long, pulling back after a few seconds and shuffling down the mattress so Harry has better access to his hole. “Come on then, stud. Make love to me.”

Harry’s quick to tuck two fingers back inside him just to check he’s stretched enough from earlier, scissoring his fingers gently just to be on the safe side. He pulls them out slowly and wipes them on the duvet before leaning forward over Louis, and with a quick kiss to his shoulder he starts to press inside. 

Louis gasps as Harry breaches him, his back arching up as Harry inches in slowly, slowly, slowly . “Ohhh,” he breathes out, nails digging into Harry’s shoulders. “Ohhh, shit. Yes… yes…”

Harry feels like he’s on fire. Louis is a vision underneath him, tight and perfect and everything Harry has ever wanted. He nudges a little deeper, inch by careful inch, until he’s fully tucked inside Louis, his hips flushed to Louis’s arsecheeks.

“Darling,” he grunts as Louis’s mouth hangs open, gasping for air as he adjusts to having Harry inside him. He pointedly doesn’t let himself think about any other alphas who have been here before, who haven’t treated him with the care he deserves. “Darling, am I hurting you?”

“No,” Louis whimpers, pulling Harry down so their foreheads are touching. “I feel… feel so full. Never felt this full before.”

Harry chuckles wetly. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” 

Louis moves their lips together slowly. “Not that kind of full, idiot,” he croaks. “Don’t make me say it out loud. You’re already inside of me.”

“ Louis .” Harry feels like he could burst. “Louis, lovely Louis, my perfect boy.”

“Make love to me, Harry,” Louis whimpers. “Make me yours.”

Harry doesn’t need telling twice. He moves back and thrusts upwards again so he can aim for his spot, which pulls a gorgeous, choked out cry from the omega. He bites his lip and brushes his hair from his face as he looks down and then his thrusts forward again, which makes Louis moan once more. 

“More,” Louis begs, locking his legs behind Harry’s back, just above his arse. This way, Harry won’t be able to thrust as hard, it’ll be a slower and deeper fuck, but Harry has a feeling Louis wants it like that. “More, Harry, want more…”

So Harry presses forward carefully and tucks his face into Louis’s neck, resting one hand against the mattress for leverage and using the other to cradle Louis’s neck. He feels like he could come just from his scent. “I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you. Slow and deep, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis whines, then gasps again as Harry rocks forward. “Feels so different already.”

Harry can’t help the possessive growl that he lets out at that and starts to fuck into him harder. They’ve done this before, of course, but it feels like the first and the millionth time they’ve done this all at once. 

They’ve both been with their fair share of partners in the past, but Louis isn’t wrong when he says it feels different. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever made love to someone before, but he can’t describe this as anything else. It feels like their two bodies are moving together in perfect sync and fusing together to become one complete being. Every touch, every thrust, every moan has more meaning than the last. 

It feels like he’s falling more and more with each movement. 

Louis is tight and loud and so, so responsive, his whole body reacting with every thrust. His hands are everywhere - in Harry’s hair, clutching at his shoulders, leaving marks down his back-and the noises he’s making are breathy and beautiful. Harry doesn’t want this to end but he feels Louis might not be far off. 

“Baby,” he murmurs. “Baby, you close?”

Louis whines and rolls his head from side to side. “Yeah,” he stutters out. “Want… don’t wanna come yet though. Feels too good.” 

Harry nods and thinks for a second, then scrabbles for the pillow on his side of the bed. “Legs around me, love, keep them tight,” he mutters, then he sinks back on his knees and lifts Louis with him, still impaled on his cock. 

Louis yelps and topples forward against Harry’s chest, clearly not expecting it, but stays wrapped around Harry like a spider monkey as Harry sets the cushion underneath where Louis’s hips were, covering the slick-soaked sheet and giving him something to lie on so his hips are raised. 

He lays Louis back down carefully, his cock slipping out of Louis’s hole as he goes, but he makes quick work of stuffing him full again. Louis’s back arches up and Harry takes one of his legs and rests it against his shoulder, kissing the dainty sole of his foot as he drives back into him. From this angle, he can’t fuck Louis as deep, but he can hit his prostate at a more precise angle. 

“ Yeah ,” Louis cries out as Harry thrusts up and hits him where he wants it. “Oh fuck, Harry, this is having… the opposite effect of what I just asked…”

Harry grins and leans down to kiss the protests off of his lips. “Wanna hear you,” he says, which isn’t really a counter-argument, but he’s teetering on the edge himself. “Do you want me to knot inside of you or not?”

Louis moans and nods. “Inside, inside. You close?”

Harry nods, punctuating his point with a sloppy thrust. He keeps thrusting into Louis’s tight heat until his balls start to tighten, then he tugs Louis closer by the hips so they’re pressed flushed, ready for his knot to pop. 

“Touch yourself,” he encourages. “I know it can hurt. So, like. Touch yourself if you need to.”

But before he’s even finished his sentence, he moves his own hand up to cover Louis’s little prick, taking it in his fist. It’s so small against Harry’s hand and he doesn’t think that’s something he’s going to get over any time soon. It’s hot and hard and he only needs to give it a few experimental tugs before Louis’s back arches and he comes, sobbing out Harry’s name.

He pulls Harry closer and cuddles him into his sweaty chest as Harry’s knot starts to expand and after a couple of short, sharp thrusts, he shoves inside Louis’s hole so his hips are completely flush to his perineum, then laces their fingers together against the mattress as his orgasm hits him and locks them together. 

“Harry,” Louis breathes out and tilts his chin back, parting his lips for the kiss that Harry gladly gives him. “Harry, oh my god…”

“Baby,” Harry hums, gasping again as more come spurts inside his omega. “Oh my god, you’re so beautiful and we’re joined. ”

Louis giggles and pats his cheek. “Is this your first time knotting someone or something?”

“I’ve literally knotted you before,” Harry grumbles, but he’s smiling. “First time knotting someone outside of rut, maybe. First time it feels, like, significant to do so.”

Louis strokes his cheek. “You’re a dreadful sap, aren’t you?”

“Just a little bit,” Harry says. “But I wasn’t the one begging for my alpha to make love to me back there, was I?”

“ Hey.” Louis’s cheeks go a gorgeous shade of pink. “It’s literally in my biological programming, you bully. Also, I didn’t exactly hear you complaining.”

“Baby, I’ll make love to you every day and every night you want me to.” Harry shuffles back and gets more comfortable against Louis’s chest, humming happily as Louis starts to card his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t really know how long they’re going to be locked together for, so he might as well settle in for the long haul. “I loved it. I loved it so much and I love being trapped inside you.”

“Well, aren’t you the last of the romantics?” Louis says dryly. He wiggles his bum against the pillow and clenches around Harry’s knot, which makes him grunt and squirm. “You feel, like, big.”

“You flatter me,” Harry says. Louis swats at him. 

“You’re all the same, you alphas,” he tuts. “Coming along with your pretty faces and your big dicks…”

Harry pins both his wrists above his head and thrusts upwards and Louis shrieks. “But I’m your alpha,” he growls, half joking and half possessive. “And you’ll do well to remember it, sweetheart.”

“Hard to forget when you’ve got one of these big alpha dicks up your arse,” Louis points out. “Yes, darling, you’re my alpha and…” He wiggles his hands out of Harry’s and brings them up to Harry’s face, coaxing him down so he can bring him down to whisper something in his ear. “And you just gave me the best sex of my life, so take from that what you will, alpha.”

Harry’s heart skips several beats. Best sex of his life. 

“Best sex of mine too,” he says, his expression suddenly softening. “Fuck, come here.”

Harry’s knot doesn’t go down for nearly half an hour, but they’re kissing too much really pay attention to it.

Best sex of his life and they’ve barely even begun. 

*

Now they’re officially courting, leaving Louis gets harder each time he has to do it.

This time it’s only overnight, up to Manchester for an interview on a chat show, but it doesn’t make it any less shitty when he has to do it. What’s currently making it harder is that he’s barely packed because Louis hadn’t let him leave the bed for pretty much the entirety of last night so he’s running behind this morning, reluctantly removing himself from Louis’s arms and shoving random bits and pieces into an overnight bag that he hopes make sense for a night away.

His suit and shoes as well as his guitar are travelling up there by bus, so all he really needs is his stuff for tomorrow and some toiletries. After this interview, he’s got three days off for the bank holiday before he’s off for a shoot in Scotland the following week, and he intends to spend all three of those days in his bed, and preferably in Louis.

Speaking of Louis, he makes a noise from their bed and Harry turns to see him pouting and making grabby hands for. “Hey, stud. Come here.”

“I have to leave in ten minutes,” Harry warns, but he climbs back into bed anyway. “God, maybe I’m not. Maybe I’ll just stay here.” 

“Yes, you should,” Louis agrees, tilting his head to one side so Harry can nuzzle into him. “Work stupid. Bed good.”

“It’s only one night,” Harry protests, but he doesn’t really know why he’s protesting. He doesn’t want to go at all. “Holy shit, you smell divine.”

“I know,” Louis says, sounding pleased, then he sighs dramatically. “What am I meant to do in this great big flat all by myself?”

Harry pokes him in the belly button. “Apply for more grad programmes? Actually cook that curry you keep saying you want to try, but I think sounds rank?”

“Wank off in your bed that smells like you?” Louis says, blinking at Harry, the picture of innocence. He’s a fucking menace and Harry doesn’t want to leave him ever again. “Hey, are you planning on taking that jumper you’re wearing with you?”

“This one?” Harry says, pointing to the lavender jumper he’d thrown on this morning. It’s probably too warm for it, but it felt like a nice, summer colour. “Well, yeah, baby, that’s why I put it on.”

“Could you maybe not wear it?” Louis asks coyly. “And leave it for me?”

“What, so you can wank off while wearing it and I won’t be able to watch?” Harry pouts. Louis nods happily. “God, you’re a menace.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You know it’s a yes,” Harry grumbles, leaning back so he can wrestle the jumper over his head. “It’s probably too warm for me to wear anyway.”

“You’re so good to me,” Louis simpers, taking the jumper and tucking it under his pillow. He presses a quick kiss to Harry’s lips, just a peck. “Right, I got what I wanted. You can go now.”

“Oh, really?” Harry bites at Louis’s shoulder and rolls him onto his back, pinning his wrists up against the pillows, holding firm as Louis shrieks and attempts to kick him off. 

It’s enough to distract him into missing three calls from Niall letting him know he’s outside in the car, but eventually he leaves Louis very reluctantly with a lingering kiss, a pinch on the bum, and the promise of lots of sex upon his return. 

Harry’s interview is for a Friday night chat show that gets a decent audience, and he’s going to be playing his new single as well as having a chat. He checks into his hotel at noon, has a shower and a wank and a bowl of cereal, then Niall comes and finds him and they share a car over to the BBC studios. 

It turns out to be one of the worst interviews Harry’s done in a long time. 

He’s done a lot of shitty interviews in his time. He remembers the worst interview he ever had, when he was only seventeen and the interviewer—a blonde American lady he didn’t know—had basically accused him of being in a relationship with an older female TV presenter he’d only met once, and even though Harry had vehemently denied it again and again, she didn’t seem ready to believe him unless he’d agreed to go for a drink with her after the show. It was all an uncomfortable mess and his management had barely stepped in to do anything. Any press is good press, after all. 

Since Niall has taken over as his manager, questions about his love life are usually carefully scripted and only included in interviews when he’s in a PR relationship, but his last forced coupling ended nearly a year ago when Kendall met an actual alpha who she wanted to bond with. 

There’s no bad blood between them and he supposes this is the longest he’s been single in the eyes of the public for a while. The fact that most of his relationships or flings have been in the public eye makes him an interesting topic, he supposes, but it still catches him off guard because he’s got an album coming out in a few months, a film for Amazon that recently wrapped up and with the trailer released last week, and he’s the lead alpha model of Gucci for one of their global campaigns. 

His face has been plastered on a billboard in Times Square for the past week and a half, yet all they ever seem to want to do is ask him about his fucking love life. 

Luckily, he’s pretty good at schooling his face like he’s actually interested in the question and not screaming inside his head. 

Not very good, but pretty good. 

“And your love life, of course we have to talk about your love life,” the host says merrily, and Harry forces his grin to stay as neutral as possible or else it’ll become a grimace. “You’re no longer with the lovely Kendall Jenner, are you?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, and you’re right. She’s nothing but lovely and I have all the respect in the world for her. She’s just opened her own tequila business, I've seen.” 

“Yeah, she has,” the interviewer chuckles. “Was that something she was working on when you were together?”

“On and off,” Harry says, frowning because this has nothing to do with him anymore. If the show wasn’t live, Niall would probably step in at this point. 

“Did she need it towards the end?” the host mocks, elbowing Harry like they’re friends, and the audience all laugh. Harry’s eyes go wide.

“Um, I hope not?” is all he can muster for a reply. 

“So, she’s now happily mated and you’re still single.” The host tilts his head to one side, jutting out his lip as if he’s sad for him. “Is there anyone in the pipeline? Anyone you’re seeing?”

Harry balks. Normally he wouldn’t get asked a question like this unprompted, unless it’s his marketing team’s way of putting out the feelers early. 

And this time, he’s actually got someone else’s feelings to consider. Louis definitely isn’t ready to go public yet—as far as Harry knows, the only person who knows that he’s even got a boyfriend is his eldest sister—but he doesn’t want to lie either. The last thing he ever wants is to give Louis the impression that he’s a dirty little secret. 

“I’m, um, I met someone recently,” he admits, looking down at his lap. The audience oooh and clap. “It’s early days, of course, but they’re, um, very special to me and we’re having fun. I’m a very happy man.” He looks up and levels his interviewer with a careful gaze. “And that’s all I’m going to say for now.”

To his credit, the interviewer doesn’t press, he just encourages the crowd to cheer them on, which is the best case scenario for now. He has no intention of saying anything more—hell, he’s already worried he’s said too much—and just smiles through the applause. 

The rest of the interview is truly forgettable; he’s asked about what he’s got coming up for the rest of the summer and if he’s planning on touring next year, and then he sits politely through the musical performance and praises her no end as the curtains roll.  

They’ve been invited to evening drinks in the green room but he asks Niall to politely decline on his behalf. He can’t imagine anything worse than hobnobbing with that same awful host. He makes a mental note to tell Niall he never wants to be booked on this show again. 

Once he’s back in his dressing room, he grabs his phone and immediately shoots a text to Louis.

Harry: so i may have announced that i’m in a relationship on the show? no names or genders or any hints to who you are, but they backed me into a corner, i’m so sorry. please don’t be mad xxxxxxx

He wonders if Louis watched it and if that’s why he hasn’t texted him back yet. Maybe Harry admitting that he’s in a new relationship, even though he gave no indication of anything to do with gender or duration, was too much and it freaked him out. 

Or maybe he’s just asleep, he tries to rationalise. Or FaceTiming his sister like he said he might. 

In a bid to distract himself, he has a long shower where he washes out all the product from his hair and the makeup from his face, and then wanks away some of the tension, working himself fast and loose, picturing Louis curled up in his bed wearing nothing but his favourite sweater. It doesn’t take him long to come thinking of that, then once he’s out, he brushes his teeth, rubs some moisturiser into his face, then pads over to his bag for his phone charger before sliding into bed naked. 

He plugs the charger into the wall and his phone screen illuminates, showing him he has a text back from Louis. 

Lou: I’m not mad!!!!!! i think you did bloody brilliant if I’m honest babe. Interviewer was a right cunt if you ask me. Are you back in your hotel room yet? Get yourself off to sleep, you’ve had a shit day, think of me in your sweater instead :D :D :D

It’s accompanied by a picture of Louis in said sweater, a photo taken in the mirror in their bedroom. His bare legs are still littered with bruises that Harry left there a couple of nights ago and the hand not holding his phone is scrunched up in the sleeve to make a little sweater paw. 

He can almost smell him from here and it makes him long for him. If he hadn’t just come in the shower, the image alone would be enough to make him chub up again. 

Harry: you look gorgeous my darling. interviewer was a right prick!! wish i could come back to you tonight :(

Lou: 12 hours to go love. now get some sleep. hump the pillow and pretend it’s me if you need to :D

Harry: filthy boy!!!!! ;) miss you so much, sleep well babe xxxx

Lou: sleep well love xxxxxx

It’s a long, uncomfortable night in a bed that’s too stiff and with sheets that smell too freshly laundered. It’s his first proper night away from Louis and he decides then and there that he’s going to make Niall book Louis on trips with him because he now knows he can barely sleep without him anymore. 

A month into a relationship and he’s become the exact type of lovesick fool he used to mock others for being. 

When he finally arrives home the following day after what feels like hours stuck on the motorway he’s feeling antsy as fuck. He can’t wait to have a beer and order takeaway from his favourite Thai place, but most of all he can’t wait to have a certain someone back in his arms. 

Part of him expects Louis to practically run to him the moment he hears the key in the door, but he doesn’t. Instead Harry finds him fast asleep on the sofa, wrapped in the duvet from Harry’s bed, a cold cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. 

The flat looks a little bit like a bomb has hit it in the twenty-four hours that Harry’s been away, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. He’s home after an interview that made him feel like total shit and Louis is here, he hasn’t left, and all the mess feels rather domestic and intentional, almost homely. 

It feels like Louis is nesting here. 

There’s something so soothing about watching his omega sleep and he instantly feels more at home from just seeing him. He discards his bag and shoes to one side easily and carefully clambers over to him, sliding under the duvet and rearranging Louis in his arms. 

Louis sleeps like the dead and could probably kip through the roof caving in, true to form he just makes a pleased noise and buries into Harry’s warmth, but stays blissfully asleep. Harry kisses the top of his head and takes a deep breath, the familiar smell doing wonders for his mood. 

He ends up dozing off with Louis pressed to his chest and he wakes up to a kiss, soft lips pressing against his again and again while he blearily blinks himself awake. “Wha…?”

“Kiss me back, asshole,” Louis grumbles, slotting his leg around Harry’s middle so he’s sat snug in his lap. “I know you’re awake, kiss me.”

“I’m awake,” Harry mumbles against his lips, sitting up a little straighter and wrapping his clumsy arms around Louis’s shoulders. “God, I’m awake. Hello.”

“ Kiss me,” Louis whines, pulling back and shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, you have one job.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Harry smiles into the kiss and pulls him closer. “Mmmm, I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Louis says, then he starts peppering little kisses down Harry’s jaw and neck. “Bed was too big without you here.”

Harry groans. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. If I had it my way I’d never leave you again.”

Louis grins and finds his way back to Harry’s mouth, snuggling closer and licking into his mouth, long and languid. They kiss for a long time—Harry honestly has no idea how long for—until their mouths slow and their kisses become shorter, firmer pecks, not taking it any further because they’re just happy to be back with one another. That’s enough for now.

“How was it?” Louis murmurs after a bit. He slides a hand under Harry’s shirt, drumming his fingers softly against Harry’s stomach. “Was it a good interview?”

Harry groans. “No,” he says flatly. “You saw it. It was bloody awful.”

Louis shakes his head. “I’m sorry, baby. Was that worse than usual interviews? Sorry, I don’t really watch many of these shows so I haven’t got anything to compare it to.”

It seems like such a juvenile problem when he has to say it out loud. “It’s just the same every fucking time.” Harry sighs and rubs at one of his eyes with his fist. “I’ve just done a Gucci campaign that made it to Times Square. My second album has a release date and I’ve got two movies with big names scheduled to start filming in the new year, plus a world tour with dates to be announced, and all they want to ask me about is who I’m shagging.”

Louis’s face drops. “I’m sorry, love.”

“And I didn’t want to lie, so when I told them that it’s early days, but I’m very happy I meant it.” Harry shrugs. “And then I tried to steer it back to, like, what I’m actually on the show for. I don’t get it. What’s the point of asking me on the show if you don’t care about what I’m doing as a person?”

“It seems like they care too much about who you’re doing,” Louis says sadly, and Harry nods. “God, that’s really shit, babe. That’s not fair.”

“I should be used to it by now,” Harry mutters, feeling irritated at himself that he’s letting this bother him so much. He really didn’t want to bring this home. “Sorry. I don’t mean to bring things like this home when it’s not your problem.”

“It’s very much my problem,” Louis pouts. “I’m the one who’s being shagged.” He kisses Harry’s jaw. “I guess I better get ready for things like this. Speculations and stuff.”

“Maybe.” Harry kisses his temple. “Sorry, I don’t want to be mopey. It’s just the first time I’ve ever had to admit a real relationship on camera, and really I wanted a bit longer to keep you to myself.”

Louis grins and shakes his head. “Good save, stud.” He kisses Harry softly. “Guess we’ll need to watch out for paps when we pop to Tesco now.”

“I’m always on pap watch,” Harry tuts, kissing Louis again. “How was your evening?”

“Boring.” Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and pulls them closer. “Lonely. Your bed is too big for one person.”

“Don’t I know it?” Harry hums. “Did you find stuff to do? Watched the telly and stuff?”

“ Well,” Louis says. “I watched a whole series of Scrubs , I cleaned the bathroom and I ordered a pizza.”

“Sounds delightful,” says Harry. 

“Why is why I wanted to ask,” Louis asks slowly, twisting his finger into one of the strings on Harry’s hoodie. “I know you just got back and we’ve missed each other loads and shit, but I wanted to ask if I can go home?”

Harry panics a little. Louis wants to leave? Right after he’d just thought to himself how much it was starting to look like Louis’s flat as well?

The worry must show on his face because Louis cups his face in his hands and shakes his head hurriedly, then leans forward to press a few quick, gentle kisses to his cheeks and jaw. 

“I’m not leaving, like, for good,” he assures him, then moves to kiss him on the mouth this time. “I just realised, like, while being here by myself how little of the stuff in this flat is mine. Like I literally have my phone charger, a deodorant and a few clothing items. I’ve been wearing your boxers for a week now.”

“I like you in my clothes,” Harry croaks. 

“I like wearing your clothes,” Louis promises with an impish grin. “But I need my laptop if I’m going to start on PhD applications and I want a few more bits.”

“Well, I mean, of course,” Harry says, resting his hands on Louis’s hips. “I can’t keep you here. Would you… come back tonight?”

Louis puffs out his cheeks and crosses his eyes, pulling that stupid face he always does when he thinks Harry’s being dense. “Are you not coming with me?”

“You want me to come with you?”

“Well, I feel like you should spend at least one night in my flat,” Louis shrugs. “See how your other half lives and all that.”

“Of course,” Harry nods. “Of course I’ll come with you.”

Louis beams and darts forward and kisses him. “You're not going to be very impressed. I live in a total shithole. But it’ll mean a lot to me if you come by my shithole.”

Harry grins and pulls him in closer, kissing him soundly. “I can’t wait,” he says honestly. He’s secretly been wondering what the inside of Louis’s flat is going to be like, and even though he doesn’t want Louis to go back there because he wants them to spend every night together, he’s still excited to see what it’s like. And the idea of their trip seems to be to collect enough stuff that Louis doesn’t have to go back there any time soon, which makes it even more exciting. 

Louis squeezes his knee. “Well, okay. We’re going to need to bring some food with us. I can’t imagine anything in my fridge is still good to eat.”

Harry pulls a face. “We’ll pack a little box together. And let's just order in when we get there, yeah?”

Louis grins even wider. “God, you know the way to my heart.”

“I try,” Harry hums. “When do you wanna go? I’ll drive.”

Louis snorts. “You can’t drive, stud. We’ll get an Uber.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, brows furrowed. “No, I’ll drive, don’t worry. Then tomorrow we can fill my car with all your stuff and not have to worry about how much we can carry.”

“Harry.” Louis looks at him like he’s stupid. “You drive a black Range Rover with tinted windows and a personalised reg. You cannot drive that into my neck of the woods.”

“But if we get an Uber it’ll just be more of a faff,” Harry tries to argue. “Have you got, like, underground parking I can leave it in?”

“ Harry.” Louis shakes his shoulders. “You’re not getting what I’m saying, are you? There is no parking. I live in a studio on the 13th floor of a truly shitty flat block. People who live in studios on the 13th floor in my part of London don’t have parking. We can’t afford cars and we take the bus with the rest of the plebs.”

Harry winces. Maybe he’s more out of touch than he thought. “Ah,” he says stupidly. “Okay. I understand.”

Louis slaps his palms on Harry’s cheeks. “Don’t pout at me, rich kid. An Uber will be fine. I really don’t have that much stuff. You’ll understand when you get there how little I really have.”

“If you’re sure,” Harry croaks. He feels like a fool. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Maybe,” Louis muses, his grin boyish and wide. “But it’s cute. And I’m not poor or on the breadline or anything, I hope you know that. I have lots of nice things and I make— made —okay money. It just doesn’t go very far in London.”

Harry nods again. He suddenly feels more nervous than he did five minutes ago. “Shall we get ready to go?”

“Sure,” Louis nods. “I’ll throw a backpack of clothes together, you get some food out the kitchen?” He giggles. “God, I have no idea where my house keys are. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“I put them in the drawer of general stuff in the kitchen,” Harry says. “Just in case you thought you’d lost them.”

“Oh, you do look after me,” Louis simpers, crawling back and kissing him once again. “You’re really rather lovely, in fact.”

“I try,” Harry murmurs, fighting the temptation to pull him even closer and just kiss him breathless. He’s missed him like crazy, but they’ll never get out of here if he lets himself kiss him for much longer. “Come on, sunshine. As much as I wanna kiss you, I can do that in your flat just as well as I can here.”

Louis shoves him away and scampers off to the bedroom, and Harry grins to himself all the way through packing together their little food package to take with them, filling a carrier bag with milk, cereal, bread, butter, teabags and instant coffee, some snacks and some Diet Coke for Louis. He sets it on the side and then heads towards the bedroom, but he ends up meeting Louis halfway, who has one of Harry’s Gucci duffel bags stuffed to the brim in his hand. 

“Is this bag okay to use?” he asks brightly. 

“Sure,” Harry says. “Is that both of our stuff?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s just some clothes for tomorrow, our toothbrushes and your wash bag that you haven’t yet unpacked.”

Harry nods. “No pyjamas?” he says coyly. 

“You’ve never slept in pyjamas a night since I’ve known you,” Louis tuts. “Have you called an Uber yet?”

Harry pulls his phone out of his back pocket and does just that. “Ten minutes,” he tells him. 

Louis nods again. “Cool. Also, I had a thought. What car does Niall drive?”

“Um, a Nissan Juke,” Harry says. “Why?”

“Could he come and pick us up in the morning?” Louis asks, biting his lip. “I know you’re both technically on some time off but, like, as a favour to his best friend’s boyfriend rather than as your manager.”

“I’m sure he would,” Harry says. “He’s my best friend first and my manager second, you know. He’d probably be more than happy to help.”

“Can you text him?” Louis shifts awkwardly from one foot to another. “Sorry. I feel bad even asking but I feel like if he can, it would make the trip back easier. I mean, I don’t even know how much stuff I’ve got that’ll need to be brought back, but just in case.”

Harry shoots Niall a quick text message with his request and then traipses back to the kitchen to grab the bag of food and the keys. They head downstairs and out towards the waiting Uber, and then they’re on their way. 

It takes about half an hour to drive there through the busy London streets. Eventually they pull up outside a flat block that looks indistinguishable from the ten other flat blocks that look exactly the same around them. 

“Well, here we are,” Louis says, looking awkward and… embarrassed , maybe? “Home sweet home.”

Harry hates the way he probably looks like a total snob and also majorly out of place as he shuffles behind Louis as they head inside the building and up towards his flat in a lift that smells like cigarette smoke. There’s about six other flats on his floor and Louis leads him down the hall to the one furthest away from the lift, then fumbles to open the door with his key. 

He almost gasps when they step inside. 

The whole flat is probably smaller than his master bedroom. Immediately to the left of the front door is another door that leads to a small bathroom, and then straight in front of them is Louis’s bed, pushed against the far right wall. 

Louis gestures him inside and he walks towards the bed to put their overnight bag on it. When he glances to his left, he sees the kitchenette and a little sofa area with a small TV mounted to the opposite wall. Just next to the sofa is a small desk covered in papers and a couple of mugs that Harry hopes to god are empty. 

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Louis mumbles, winding an arm around Harry’s waist. “What do you think?”

“It’s very you,” Harry notes, gesturing to the Doncaster Rovers poster that's tacked above the oven. There’s clothes all over the floor next to the bed and more mugs on the bedside table. “It’s nice to see you’re messy everywhere, I guess.”

Louis pinches his bum. “Cheeky bugger.” Harry winds an arm around his shoulder and kisses him on the crown of his head. “I know it doesn’t hold a candle to your place.”

“But it’s yours,” Harry says matter-of-factly, hoping he doesn’t come off as awkward as he feels. The place isn’t awful by any means, it’s just radically different from his own, and he’s starting to think that maybe he’s a bit more snobby than he thought he was. 

“It’s a shithole,” Louis says flatly. “But I promise you it’s relatively clean and I promise I’ll only make you stay here one night. That’s if you don’t mind me coming back with you tomorrow, of course.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Harry promises, kissing him again.  “Shall I put the milk and stuff in the fridge?”

Louis breaks away from the hold and wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t. Here, I’ll do it because not gonna lie, I don’t know how many dodgy takeaway containers from a couple of months ago will be in there. You don’t deserve that.”

Harry chuckles and takes a few steps backwards to look inside the bathroom. It’s not the smallest bathroom in the world, but it certainly isn’t fancy, nothing more than a bath with the shower inside it, a small sink and then a toilet. 

“Is there much to pack up in here?” he calls out. 

“Stay well back,” Louis yells, which makes him freeze and his eyes go wide in panic. “Oh my god. Holy shit. This fridge is disgusting.”

Harry bursts out laughing. “Oh shit. What did you leave in there?”

“What didn’t I leave in here?” Louis shrills. “There’s cheese, eggs, so many tubs of takeaway I don’t know what’s what anymore…”

Harry dares to poke his head around the corner and the smell hits him like a bloody juggernaut. “Jesus Christ.”

“This is foul,” Louis whines. “Fucking hell. Okay, um. Let me get a bin bag and I’ll just bin the whole load and soak the shelves in the sink. Can you, um.” He doesn’t even finish his sentence before he bursts out laughing. “This is not how I wanted to introduce my boyfriend to my flat.”

Harry giggles and pinches his nose, heading over to the sink to fill it with hot water. “Hey, I feel like I’m partly to blame. I’m the one who’s been essentially holding you hostage.”

“Yeah, well.” Louis tucks his nose into his sweatshirt and starts to gingerly toss things into the bin bag. “Doesn’t really soften the blow, darling, sorry.”

They spend the best part of an hour cleaning the fridge and then after that they move onto packaging Louis’s clothes, books, X-box and various knick-knacks into the two suitcases and two crates they brought with them. 

“Do you want to bring any of your kitchen stuff back?” Harry asks as he starts rummaging through the cupboards for a clean mug. He opens up the drawer next to the sink and instead of finding cutlery, he finds it full to bursting with takeaway menus. “Or is cooking something you only do at my place?”

Louis snorts. “I am lazy and always tired and I like the noodles the Golden Wok do better than anything I’ve ever cooked.”

Harry snorts. “I guess that’s what we’re having for dinner then.”

Louis’s face lights up. “Oh my god, can we? Yes.” He moves over from where he’s been unstacking a bookshelf. “You’re the best. It’s my favourite takeaway in the whole world.”

Harry makes a mental note to bring the takeaway menu with him so he can get it special delivered for Louis in the future. “Are you hungry now?”

Louis nods. “For a Golden Wok? Always.”

Harry orders their dinner and they eat it cross-legged on the floor (Harry doesn’t think it’s anything to write home about, but the look of pure delight on Louis’s face while he’s eating it is worth its weight in gold). After that, Harry washes up while Louis finishes packing the last of his clothes while Superbad plays on in the background. Neither of them realise how late it is until the credits roll and the news anchor announces it’s just gone midnight. 

Harry’s knackered from what feels like the longest day ever and he’s not really looking forward to a second night in a different bed, but this flat definitely feels more homely than the hotel room he stayed in last night. He has a quick shower and then brushes his teeth while Louis has his own shower, then he pulls on a clean pair of boxers and pours himself a glass of water. 

Harry pulls back the duvet, ready to climb into the bed, but then he spots two ripped, rumpled tissues on the pillow, which he eyes suspiciously. “Are these, like, jizz tissues?”

Louis pokes his head out the bathroom door and snorts. “Not jizz tissues, no. More like sad tissues from when I walked out of your place that one time and came back here to have a good cry before Niall rang me and told me that you’d dropped.”

“Oh.” Harry’s face falls and moves the tissues quickly to the waste paper basket. “That’s…” He trails off, suddenly feeling awkward that the last time Louis was in this bed, he was crying about losing him. 

Louis flicks off the bathroom light and shuffles over to him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle. “Hey. Don't go all mopey on me.” He kisses Harry’s chin. “Your scent goes all different and, like, off when you talk about dropping.” He climbs onto the mattress and makes grabby hands for Harry, who obediently gets into bed after him. “I’d say it worked out okay though, wouldn’t you?”

Harry pulls the duvet up so it’s tucked up over both their shoulders, keeping them safe and snug. “Yeah, okay. You’re not wrong there.”

“I am always right,” Louis titters, then pulls Harry in closer and kisses him, slow and passionate. “God, you’re just…” He shakes his head. “I’ll never get over this. Harry Styles is in my bed in my stupid dingy tower block and he’s here because he wants to be.”

Harry pulls him closer and kisses him again. Louis smells like pure contentment and sleepiness. “Oh, I very much want to be here. There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be, remember?”

A car alarm suddenly starts blaring outside and they both jump, but then they both burst out laughing. 

“It’s certainly quieter at your place,” Louis chuckles. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologise.” Harry leans behind him to flick off the bedside lamp and then tucks Louis into his hold, kissing the back of his neck. “Get some sleep, my darling. I can smell how tired you are.”

“Pair of stinky boys together,” Louis smiles, pulling Harry’s arm across his middle. “Goodnight, love.”

He normally doesn’t sleep well at all in beds that aren’t his own, but despite the fact that it’s loud and bright and still smells like cigarette smoke, even in Louis’s own flat, he sleeps better than he did without Louis, that’s for sure. 

They head back in the morning in Niall’s car, who insists on Harry buying him a McDonald’s breakfast from a drive-thru as a thank you. It only takes the three of them one trip to bring all of Louis’s things upstairs to their penthouse and less than two hours to unpack it all. 

Louis doesn't mention going back to his own flat again and Harry makes a point to never bring it up. 

So it looks like they’re living together now. Cool. 

*

Despite only voicing a couple of weeks ago that he wants to keep Louis to himself for a little while longer, it doesn’t last as long as he originally plans. 

He’s mentioned to his mum that he’s seeing someone and he’s left it at that, but his mum knows him well enough not to press. She’s no stranger to his crazy life, of course, and has been made to do a few pap walks with him and his PR partners in her time, once even accompanying him on a planned holiday.

His former PR company (before he shafted them and moved to one that doesn’t insist on PR stunts and fake relationships) had said his relationship with Kendall didn’t seem real enough so they’d arranged for him to go on a week-long yacht trip with her and some of their friends. 

They’d organised it behind Harry and Niall’s back and given them too little notice to say no, so he’d fought back and insisted he was only going if he could bring his mum, which they’d agreed to. 

“I’m sorry about this,” he’d croaked to her on the first night, wrapping her in his arms. “I know you hate boats, for one.”

“Oh, hush. Anything for you,” she’d promised him, wiping a stray tear from his face. “I mean it, my darling. I know it feels like shit now but I’m going to be here as long as you need me to be. What are mothers for if not for things like this?”

Harry had sniffed a hideous, snotty laugh. “I don’t think most mums have to accompany their grown son on a fake boat trip that’s purely for the sake of the paparazzi.”

Anne had shaken her head and kissed his cheek. “Yeah, well. You always had a little more flair than most, sweetheart.” She slid her hand into his. “I’m serious, though. Anything for you and I mean that.”

Harry thanks his lucky stars after every single conversation he has with his mum because she understands that he’s living a different life to most men in their mid-twenties. She knows that Harry will tell her everything he needs to (because even though he’s a fully grown alpha in his mid-twenties, sometimes he really does need his mum) and withholds some things she doesn’t, because there really are things sons don’t need to tell their mothers. 

Harry’s dating and sex life has been in and out of the tabloids since he was a teenage boy and something he’s always found to be truly awful is the idea of his mother reading about how he treats his partners in bed or how big his dick is. He’s gotten better with it now, but at the beginning he was mortified, and now there’s sort of an unspoken agreement between them that Anne doesn’t ask unless Harry offers the information out himself. She certainly doesn’t go searching his name on Google News anymore like she first did when he’d started to get big. 

And it’s not that he’s nervous, per se, to tell his mum what Louis used to do for a living, not at all. He’s just not ready to share the nitty-gritty details of how and where they met, why they started dating and why he’s essentially moved Louis in already. They have moved fast and even though Harry isn’t embarrassed of Louis, he just… isn’t ready to tell her the full story yet. 

He knows she’ll understand when the time is right though. When Harry’s completely certain that Louis is the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with (he’s, like, 90% sure at this point) he’ll tell her everything. 

To his knowledge, his sister has no absolutely fucking idea (unless she’d watched him on that talk show a couple of weeks ago, but the lack of a phone call from her leads Harry to think she hasn’t). She also doesn’t go searching up Harry on social media or Google, and anyway, she’s living a busy enough life trying to raise a baby and work full-time. 

So Louis stays a secret from his family for now, but it’s pretty clear shortly after his chat with his mum that they’ll have to take a slightly different approach when it comes to Louis’s family. 

Louis pads into the kitchen one night as Harry’s prepping a chicken to go in the oven, grinning a little too widely to be real. “Hello, darling.”

“Hi, baby,” Harry says, pecking him on the head. “You okay?”

“Um.” Louis laughs hollowly. “Kind of? Well. Yes. Can we talk a second?”

Harry nods and moves to put the chicken in the oven, then goes to the sink so he can pull Louis in for a hug without getting oil or garlic on him. “Sure, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

Louis looks nervous. “I, um, think I’ve been in a little bit of a Harry bubble lately,” he laughs hollowly. “And while I’ve loved every minute of it, I did, um, forget that it’s my baby sisters’ 16th birthday?”

Harry’s eyes go wide. “Oh, shit. When was it?”

“It’s this Saturday,” Louis says sheepishly. “And I’m an awful big brother because I forgot they were having a massive party with all our friends and family and stuff up north. I’d even had a hotel room booked.”

Harry nods carefully. “Okay, do you want driving up there?”

Louis looks anywhere but at Harry. “I want you to come with me.”

Come with me.

“You… yeah?” Harry beams at him, feeling a little bit tingly all over. Louis wants him to meet his family. “You want me at your sisters’ 16th birthday party? That’s some serious relationship shit, that is.”

“I know.” Louis bites his lip. “So you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Baby, I’m so serious about this relationship.” Harry reaches forward and takes Louis’s hand in his. “It’s sooner than I thought it might be, granted, but I suppose I can’t keep you to myself forever. I can’t believe you want me to meet your family.”

“Well, it had to happen eventually,” Louis tells him dryly. “And I’m annoyed that I left it so short notice, if I’m honest. I haven’t told anyone about you aside from my two best friends.”

“Tell me about your family,” Harry murmurs, leaning back against the sofa cushions and tugging Louis closer to him. He tucks his arm over Louis’s middle and kisses him behind the ear, grinning as Louis leans into him, and he twists his head around to press a kiss to Harry’s jaw. “Talk me through the Tomlinson family tree.”

Louis snorts. “You got a couple of hours and a pen and paper?”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “How complicated can it be?”

More complicated than Harry was ready for, if he’s honest, as Louis launches into a detailed explanation of his five siblings, both his stepfathers, and then the tragic story of losing his mum and then his sister within a couple of years of each other. He talks about how his eldest sister is still his best friend in the world and he talks to her all day every day over text, and she’s the only one in the family who knows about them being an item because he couldn’t keep a secret from her. 

“She can’t wait to meet you,” he hums. “I know that’s a really typical thing to say at a time like this, but it’s true. She’s just so excited I’ve found someone that makes me happy and, like, I wanted to quit my job for, you know?”

Harry presses a long kiss into Louis’s hair. “I’m glad,” he murmurs, “And I absolutely can’t wait to meet her either.” 

Louis takes Harry’s hand and twists one of his rings round his finger. “And of course, there’s Liam and Zayn for you to meet. That’ll be fun.”

“Oh, yeah, your best friends?” Harry’s heard them mentioned a couple of times but he hasn’t had the chance to meet them yet. “Will they be at the party?”

“Of course,” Louis nods. “They’re more family than just friends. Liam’s the one who texted me to ask what hotel I was staying at, which is what reminded me it was this weekend.”

“Is the hotel room big enough for the two of us?” Harry asks. Louis nods. “Then consider me there, sweetheart.” He pauses. “Maybe, like, give a couple of people a head’s up that you’re bringing me?”

Louis snorts. “Absolutely not,” he chuckles. “I can’t wait to see the look on Daisy and Phoebe’s faces when I show up with you. It’ll be worth its weight in gold.”

Harry grins nervously and tries to quash down the butterflies in his tummy just at the thought. He’s going to meet Louis’s family and soon, sooner than he’d ideally given himself time to prepare for mentally . 

This really is some serious relationship business right there and just the thought of it is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. 

The party is being held in a pub just outside of Louis’s hometown of Doncaster and from the sounds of it, pretty much Louis’s entire extended family and a lot of his hometown friends will be going. Harry finds himself choosing a more sensible, more refined outfit than what he’d usually, opting for a simple black suit and brogues rather than anything garish that will attract too much attention. According to Louis, it makes me look “entirely fuckable” so he takes that as he’s done a good job. 

And unsurprisingly, they’re running late by the time they arrive because Louis is chaotic and clearly a little bit nervous and overexcited, so he takes bloody ages to get ready. They were planning on walking to the venue but they’re so behind schedule Harry ends up ordering them an Uber and practically shoving Louis inside. 

“Sorry,” Louis mumbles sheepishly, grinning—well, it’s more of a grimace—at Harry. “I’m nervous, can you tell?”

Harry takes his hand and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips over his knuckles. “Me too. Why are you nervous?”

“Like, should I have pre-warned them that I’m dating Harry Styles? Maybe.” Louis bites his lip. “I should probably apologise in advance as well about all of Daisy and Phoebe’s little friends. They’re going to cry, probably.”

Harry chuckles nervously. He’d been expecting that, if he’s honest, but Louis hasn’t really made mention of it until now. “It’s fine,” he tells Louis, even though he definitely doesn’t feel fine. “Do they even know you have a boyfriend?”

“They know I have a boyfriend called Harry, yeah,” Louis says. “It’s the first time I’ve ever had a plus one for a family party, you see. I think everyone’s just gonna be delighted.”

“Do I, like…” Harry licks his lips, thinking on how to word this. “Call me out if I’m speaking out of line, but I presume people don’t think you’ve been single because of your job?” Louis’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Like, they think you’re single by choice and not because they know what you used to do for work.”

“Oh, yeah,” Louis nods. “If they ask I just tell them I’m working towards another degree. After a while they all start to blur into one anyway. When I do get on a PhD it’ll just seem like a natural stepping stone.”

“Cool,” Harry says. “So then… how did we meet?”

Louis balks. “ Fuck. I hadn’t thought of that. Fuck! I really left everything to the last minute with this one, didn’t I?”

“It’s definitely partly my fault,” Harry chuckles. “Why don’t we say… let’s just say you knew Niall and he introduced us. That’s kind of stretching the truth, but keeps it pretty vague.”

“My alpha’s a genius ,” Louis says happily, sighing with relief. “Okay, okay. I can do this.” Harry clears his throat. “Sorry. We can do this.”

Harry kisses his knuckles again and sends a silent prayer to whoever’s listening that they can indeed do this. 

The second they're inside the pub, Louis drags him straight over to the pair standing in the far corner, an alpha and an omega. Harry follows obediently a couple of steps behind him, smiling politely as Louis ploughs into the arms of the omega, smacking a kiss onto each of his cheeks before he practically knocks the alpha over with the force of his hug. 

Harry hates how he immediately wants to growl but he forces it down. This is a party for two of Louis’s sisters, for crying out loud. Louis wouldn’t have brought him here if he was going to show him up with another alpha…

Would he?

He’s distracted and probably glaring when the omega beside him taps him lightly on the shoulder. 

“You don’t have to stare at them like that, you know. They’ve been friends since they were in nappies—if anything untoward was going to happen, it would have done so years ago.”

Harry’s eyes go wide at that. The man is grinning impishly, like he’s seen this all before and he’s amused, almost, by Harry’s behaviour. He’s shorter than Harry and absolutely fucking gorgeous, lithe and well dressed, with big round eyes rimmed with kohl and bleached blonde hair. He’s covered in tattoos from the top of his neck down to the palms of his hands and there’s several piercings in his ears, and a ring in each nostril.

There’s also a bond mark on his exposed chest, a black heart tattooed around it so it stands out against his skin. Harry balks. 

“Ah,” is all his stupid brain can offer out. 

The omega grins even wider. “I’m Zayn, by the way. And that’s my mate, Liam, with your boyfriend in his arms.”

Zayn and Liam. Of fucking course. 

“Shit, of course he’s mentioned you,” Harry mumbles, finally locating his voice. “His best friends since childhood, right?”

“Right,” Zayn nods. “Though Liam since nursery school and me since secondary school. And if we’re being honest, Liam is his absolute best friend. Those two are, like, connected on a deeper level.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. “It’s nothing to get jealous of, I promise.”

“I’m not jealous,” Harry says, a little too quickly to be totally sincere. 

He isn’t jealous now he knows it’s Liam, not really. 

Zayn raises his perfectly groomed eyebrows and Harry coughs. 

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry,” Zayn says, extending his hand. “Louis is obsessed with you, by the way. Thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread and talks about you like you invented love. It’s disgusting and lovely in equal measure.”

Harry laughs awkwardly. He doesn’t really know what to say. “Um, thank you?”

Zayn grins at him. “Don’t tell him I said that,” he chuckles. “He’ll probably kill me. But then again, we’ve had to listen to him go on and on about you like a lovesick puppy for the past few weeks, so I’m not that sorry about it.”

Harry grins and mimes zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. “He tells you guys about me, huh?”

Zayn chuckles. “All the time,” he replies coyly, then cuts himself off as Louis and Liam step towards them both. Louis looks flushed but the happiest Harry’s seen him in ages. 

“Baby? This is Liam,” Louis says, sliding his hand into Harry’s. “My best childhood friend.”

“Hi,” Harry says gruffly, shaking his hand. “Good to finally meet you.”

“And you, mate,” Liam says, his smile so wide his eyes crinkle at the corners. Once he drops Harry’s hand, he keeps it raised and Zayn slides under it, resting his hand on Liam’s stomach. “And I see you’ve met Zayn, my mate.”

“Yes,” Harry nods, then grins as Louis wiggles his arm until he tucks him underneath it so they mirror Zayn and Liam. “Oh, hello.”

“I always knew you’d be a clingy boyfriend,” Zayn says gleefully. “Hello Louis, by the way. Do I not get a hello?”

Louis tuts and rolls his eyes. “Needy,” he says, but he slides out from under Harry’s arm and pulls Zayn into another hug obediently. “Missed you, cunt bag.”

“Missed you too, you slag.” Zayn pulls back and slaps Louis on both cheeks, then tucks himself back into Liam’s hold. “I can’t believe you have a boyfriend. I’m so fucking happy. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Louis sticks out his tongue. “Fuck you. Not all of us could meet the love of our life at sixteen.” He pokes Harry in the stomach. “Have I told you that these two bonded at the age of eighteen?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, but that’s awesome. Did you meet at school?”

Harry stands and listens politely as Louis, Liam and Zayn fill them in on their life story—meeting in sixth form because Zayn and Louis came together as two of the only male omegas in the school, and then Zayn and Liam got together pretty much immediately—but they’re soon interrupted by one of Louis’s cousins, letting them know that they were about to sit down for dinner. 

They end up on a table full of Louis’s family, where Harry has his first proper conversation with Lottie and Mark, Louis’s stepdad, and of course, both the birthday girls. They stammer through their introductions and look torn between murdering their brother and being so in awe they can barely talk. It’s even funnier when Louis shows Harry a text that Phoebe just sent him under the table that reads: You absolute piece of shit why didn’t you warn us!!!!!!!!, which makes them both snicker and Phoebe go even redder, bless her. 

It’s quite unnerving to meet your in-laws while at the same time being hyper aware that everyone in the room is staring at you. He hears whispers from pretty much everyone as they walk past the table, and each time they do Louis offers him a squeeze to the knee. 

“I am sorry,” he murmurs. “Perhaps I should have told people. I definitely should have told these two.” He gestures to his sisters. 

“I knew,” Lottie pipes up proudly. “And I think it’s funny. Well, for Louis, maybe. Harry, you look a little green.”

“Shut up, Lottie,” Louis hisses. “Leave the poor man alone, I feel guilty enough and it’s not funny.”

“It’s because he’s never brought a boyfriend home before,” Lottie stage-whispers. “And everyone has always wondered why when he’s such a catch.” She pinches Louis on the cheek. “Aren’t you, big brother?”

“I’m flattered to be the first,” Harry croaks. “And hopefully the last.” Louis tuts and slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “Well, I’m serious. People are going to have to get used to me.”

“I’m sure they will,” Louis says, sliding an arm through Harry’s. “It’s just, well, you know what families are like.”

“Especially one the size of ours,” Lottie chimes in. “And also at an event full of teenage girls. Not gonna lie, I think they might be some of the most intimidating creatures of all.” She takes a big swig of her wine. “Speaking of, do you guys have, like, a plan on how to not let photos of you spread the internet?”

“Kind of?” Harry and Louis say in sync, which makes them all laugh. 

“My manager has purposely already leaked some photos of me being somewhere else tonight,” Harry explains. “Then if any photos do get posted on social channels today then we can blur out anyone’s faces that aren’t me to keep it nice and vague.”

“That’s… insanity, but alright.” Lottie whistles and drains her wine glass. “God, the things you have to go through to appear normal. Who can be arsed?”

“Me,” Louis says indignantly, gripping Harry’s thigh possessively. “It’s worth it because it means Harry can be here, and I wouldn’t change that for anything.” 

“Fucking idiot,” Lottie mutters, but she meets Harry’s eye across the table and offers him a secret smile. It doesn’t take a genius to work out she's teasing. She’s clearly so happy that her brother is happy, and that’s all that matters. 

Seeing Louis with his family is just so lovely, and Harry doesn’t stop smiling all the way through dessert. 

It’s a little overwhelming when dinner wraps up and they do the traditional family party trick of going from group to group. It’s clear that everyone here loves Louis but they’re all a little awkward when they’re introduced to Harry. They all seem either starstruck or keen to show off in some way or another, which is quite an odd experience, but Harry supposes he should have expected it. It’s probably quite a surreal experience, coming to a 16th birthday party and finding out that your cousin or nephew is dating someone famous.

And Louis is either oblivious to it or choosing to ignore it (he suspects the latter), so Harry chooses not to mention it, at least for now. 

They finally get a brief moment for themselves once the tables have cleared away to turn the whole space into a dance floor, where Louis drags him into a corner and pulls him down for a snog. He’s a little bit tipsy, if the way he’s swaying and giggling is anything to go off of, and he keeps his arms around Harry’s neck and rocks them gently from side to side in time to the music. 

“I love having you here,” he tells Harry with a dopey grin, which makes Harry grin even wider. “I know my family can be a lot, and there are a lot of them, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

Harry kisses him again. “I’m glad you brought me here. Even if I was worried at one point your Aunt Linda was going to try and slide her hand under my shirt.”

Louis cackles. “She probably would have done, to be fair. I’d avoid her for the rest of the night if you don’t still don’t want to risk it because she’s been on the gin since she arrived.”

Just to prove a point, Harry slides a hand under the back of Louis’s shirt and ducks down to give him another quick kiss. “I think I’m hogging you, babe. There’s a group of people eager for you to join them over there.” 

“Loo-wee!” calls Lottie from across the room, waving him over, tottering in her high heels. “Come dance. Harry, come too!”

“Come dance?” Louis tilts his head towards where the twins have scurried to join Lottie, beckoning them onto the dance floor, but Harry shakes his head. 

“Let me finish my drink first? I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Sure.” Louis smacks a quick kiss onto his cheek and scuttles off, leaving Harry on his own at the back of the room, which he’s kind of glad about. Today has been a lot all at once and while he’s happy he was able to meet people like Lottie and Mark, it’s been quite intense meeting his entire extended family at once. 

He can’t help but keep an eye on Louis from over here though, watching with a secret smile as Louis tries to teach his sisters how to slut drop. Even if he’s spent the day feeling a touch awkward, Louis is clearly in his element and having the time of his life, so as far as he’s concerned it’s all been worth it. 

Then he hears someone clear their throat behind him and he turns. 

“Hey,” Liam says, smiling warmly at Harry and offering an awkward wave. Harry tries to smile politely but it probably looks more like a grimace, if the way Liam’s face falls is anything to go on. To his credit, he doesn’t back away. “I wanted to come over and introduce myself properly, like, alpha to alpha.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, um, Liam, isn’t it? I was talking to your mate earlier.”

Your mate that isn’t my Louis. 

Liam smiles softly. “Yeah, Zayn.” He looks at Harry carefully. “Zayn is my bond mate, you know. We’re bonded.” Harry nods again. “Which means you don’t have anything to worry about, bro. I have no romantic feelings or interest in Louis whatsoever.”

“I know,” Harry grunts, but it sounds fake to his own ears. “I’m just, like…” He shrugs. “It’s still kinda new between Louis and I so I’m a bit…”

“Territorial?” Liam supplies. “I get it, you know. From one alpha to another, like, I really get it.”

“Yeah,” Harry says. His skin feels itchy having this conversation. “I’m a bit protective of what’s mine, which is dumb when it comes to another person, I know, but like…”

“Listen,” Liam cuts in gently. “I’m well aware that if I saw Zayn charge into the arms of an alpha stranger, I’d feel a bit off too. But you have to understand…” He clears his throat. “Louis and I have been best friends since before we could talk, basically. It’s always been me and him, all throughout school and college and all of it. We’d do anything for each other.”

If this is supposed to be making Harry feel better, it isn’t really working. “But it’s platonic,” he says dryly. 

Liam pulls a face. “Harry, bro. I know it’s not hugely conventional for alphas and omegas to be best friends like we are, but I’ve never been interested in Louis, and he’s never been interested in me.” He crosses his heart. “Swear on my bond.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust him or you, I promise. And I know I’m fairly new into Louis’s life too, so I don’t have the same knowledge of his experiences as you, but from what I do know I just can’t help but feel a bit… alpha-y.”

“You’re protective of him,” Liam notes. Harry nods in agreement. “So am I.” He takes a long pull of his beer. “Something you have to understand, Harry, is that I’ve been here for a long time and I’d go as far as to say that I probably know Louis better than anyone.” He shrugs. “And I can tell you that Louis has never put himself first, never ever.”

Harry frowns. “He never puts himself first,” he agrees. “Getting him to agree to something that does is hard bloody work. I think I’m learning that the hard way.”

“Tell me about it,” Liam nods. “And he’s always been like this. And the thing is…” He takes a deep breath. “I hate what he does for work. I always have and I always will. I don’t try and hide it from him either.” He holds up a hand. “I don’t judge people that do it or use the services or whatever, that’s their prerogative but…” Another swig. “I hate it. It’s never been what Louis was destined to do. His potential is so incredible.”

“Yeah,” Harry says. He couldn’t agree more. “I guess he told you he’s been applying for PhD courses?”

Liam nods again. “Yeah. He came right over to me because he said he wanted to see my face when he told me he was finally quitting his job for good. Said it was too good of an opportunity for him to miss by sending me a bloody Whatsapp. And I’m so glad he did. I’ve not felt so relieved in ages.”

Harry grins despite himself. That’s such a Louis move and he has to admire it, because he also knows that not telling him will have driven him up the wall. “I didn’t realise he had someone like you, Liam,” he says honestly. “I didn’t realise, like, quite how deeply you two care about it each other.” 

“He’s my best friend,” Liam answers with a simple shrug. “Always has been and always will be.” He drains his glass. “I worry about him all the time, if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” Harry says with a hoarse laugh. He clears his throat. “I am very protective of him, I know, and I know it’s early days between us and whatever but I think that’s kind of natural when you’re an alpha, yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Liam agrees. “And when you know, you know.” 

“But… it’s like more than that with him,” Harry says, voice edging on desperate. He’s not even sure the proper words exist when it comes to explaining how he feels about Louis, but he supposes if anyone is going to understand, it’ll be his best friend. “I’m not… I’m not the person they make me out to be in the tabloids. I’ve always wanted to find my person and now I have and it’s like, sometimes I don’t know what to do with that information. I’ve also never been in a relationship like this before so I worry I get a bit intense but it’s because…” He cuts himself off sharply, because his rambling mouth was about to say something very intense. 

“But you love him,” Liam chimes in matter-of-factly, smiling brilliantly. Harry doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face almost definitely gives him away. 

He’s in love with Louis. 

“I… haven't said that to him yet,” is what he offers back. 

Liam mimes zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. “I won’t say anything, I promise. It’s just…” His smile widens. “I just always worried that Louis would never have this. And now he has you and you’re both clearly besotted with one another and I couldn’t be happier for both of you.”

“Thank you,” Harry murmurs, and he means it. He never wants to be the alpha who hates the idea of his mate being friends with other alphas, and he’s glad he got the chance to talk with Liam, just the two of them. He likes Liam and he can tell that he is fiercely protective of Louis in a different way, a unique way to everyone else, it seems. 

He glances over to Louis on the other side of the pavilion, where he’s currently twirling one of his sisters around to Oops... I Did It Again by Britney Spears. It makes his heart skip a beat and he actually misses him, even though he’s only a room away. 

“Harry, can I just say something else?” Liam says, glancing over to where Zayn and Louis begin doing the Conga with the twins. “It’s important, I think, for you to know this but if Louis knew I was telling you this he’d probably kick me straight in the balls.”

Harry snorts. “Now I’m intrigued.”

Liam grins. “Nobody tells Louis what to do. I’m sure you know that.” Harry nods tentatively. “But the thing is, you can tell Louis what to do and he just goes. It’s… well, it’s something I never thought I’d see from him, to be honest.”

Harry blinks at him. He isn’t really sure what Liam is trying to tell him. “Huh?”

“He quit his job for you,” Liam says simply. “He probably threw up a bit of a fight but he did it, is that right?”

He has to hold back a laugh, because if Liam knew the fight they’d had he probably wouldn’t be talking about it so nonchalantly. “We did have a massive fight, actually,” he mumbles. “I thought he was going to leave me.”

“But he came back,” Liam smiles. “Our lovely, unbearably loyal Louis came back and he did what you asked.” He touches Harry’s forearm lightly. “Harry, his mum couldn’t get him to quit that job even though she begged and pleaded. They argued about it relentlessly up until she was hospitalised for the last time. And man, I cannot even tell you the amount of rows we’ve had about it, rows where Zayn has had to physically get between us once or twice because we’re both so angry at the other.”

“So…” Harry still isn’t quite sure what Liam is trying to say. He opts for a question that he’s wanted to ask Louis for the longest time, but doesn’t want to start an argument by asking. “So you don’t think it makes me a controlling alpha to ask him to quit his job before we started dating?”

“I can see both sides of the argument,” Liam says, nice and diplomatic. “But for me, as an alpha as well as his best friend, I am absolutely, categorically on your side.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“Zayn is a model and I have to deal with horny alphas leering over him all the time,” Liam says. “It drives me fucking bonkers even though I’m not worried, not really. He’s mine and I’m his. But on a pure alpha bond mate level, I hate it.” He takes a deep breath. “If he was sleeping with anyone but me, I’d lose my shit. Simple as that. It’s not… I just couldn’t do it so I get it.” 

“Yeah,” Harry nods. God, it feels good to be reaffirmed in his thinking, and especially by Louis’s best friend. Sometimes he worries he’s being too much of a macho alpha knothead for his own good. “Hey, thanks, Liam. For like, coming over and talking to me. I know I’ve not exactly given you the warmest welcome and I’m sorry.”

“You’re in love with my best friend,” Liam says with a shrug, but his smile is wide and genuine. “I think you’re within your rights to be wary of other alphas, especially before you’ve had the chance to meet them properly yourself. Which is why I came over to introduce myself to you properly.”

“I appreciate it.” Harry smiles before he drains the last of the drink in his glass. “It’s a bit mad, isn’t it, how old fashioned and possessive being alpha can make you at times.”

Liam nods sagely. “Yeah, but it’s biology and all that. I think as long as you don’t let it impact the implicit trust you and your partner have, it’s fine to be a bit possessive now and again.” He grins around the rim of his drink. “Like I am punching well above my weight with my Zayn, I know this. But we’d do anything for each other and I trust him with my life.” He shrugs again. “When you know, you know, as I’m sure you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Harry grins, just as Louis reappears in his eyeline. He swans over to the pair of them with two flutes of champagne in his hand, which Harry takes gratefully. “Hello, my darling.”

“Hi, stud,” Louis greets back. His cheeks are pink, probably from a mix of the dancing and all the alcohol, and his hair is a sweaty mess. He leans into Harry’s side easily. “Fighting off the competition, are you?”

“And where’s my drink?” Liam asks. hands on hips. “Or do we only give them to people we fancy now?”

“Start sucking my dick and then I’ll get you a drink,” Louis says cheekily, which makes both alphas groan. “Oh, what’s going on here?”

“Don’t even go there,” Liam says, rolling his eyes. “Cheeky fucker. Where’s Zayn?”

“Gone to the loo,” Louis tells him. “He said to tell you he’d love a drink when he’s back.”

“I’m sure he would,” Liam mutters. “Right, guess I’m off to the bar then. See you lads in a second. It was great to finally meet you, Harry, and have a proper chat.”

Liam sidles off and Harry’s about to say something, but Louis tugs him down for a sloppy kiss instead. 

“Come dance.”

“I…” 

Maybe Harry’s more tipsy than he realised he was because he very nearly blurted his new found information out in the middle of a dance floor with Louis’s entire extended family with Agadoo playing in the background. He slaps a hand over his mouth just in time, which makes Louis frown and gingerly take a step back.  

“Shit, you gonna be sick?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I… I think it was just a burp.”

He has such a way with words. 

Louis shakes his head fondly and then steps back into Harry’s space. “So you wanna dance?”

Harry nods awkwardly. “Yeah, baby. Let’s go dance.”

The rest of the evening passes fairly quickly as more drinks are consumed and the DJ plays every single cheesy pop song under the sun. Harry wonders if Louis has had a word with his sisters or whoever picked the playlist because none of his music is on there, and it’s not uncommon for the first single he recorded to be found on a cheesy pop playlist, but he’s kind of glad it isn’t. He still feels a little awkward as he knows people are watching him, but at least Louis’s sisters and friends have welcomed him in with open arms. 

Overall, it’s a great night and everyone seems to have enjoyed themselves, so Harry can’t really complain. 

At Niall’s request, Harry had upgraded their hotel room to one at a slightly different hotel with better security, and they tumble into their room in the early hours of the morning, exhausted and sweaty and all danced out. They share a quick shower and clamber into the giant bed together, where Louis is quick to tuck himself under Harry’s chin and tangle their legs together. 

“Today meant everything to me,” he mumbles sleepily into Harry’s bare chest and pressing a kiss over the bird tattooed there. “Thank you for coming.”

“Anything for you,” Harry whispers, taking a deep breath of the scent that’s radiating off the omega in his arms, a scent that smells fresh and clean, like Louis is happy and content. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

I love you.

Harry thinks he accidentally murmurs the words aloud into his pillow as he’s about to fall asleep, but he’s pretty sure Louis is out cold already so doesn’t hear him.  

He’ll tell him tomorrow, when he’s ready.