Archive of Our Own ^beta

Louis hates mornings.

He especially hates quiet mornings, because they suggest something is wrong. Something like the complete absence of customers in his newly opened coffee shop.

The sunlight slants through the front windows of Witches Brew, catching on glass jars of ingredients that he can’t yet afford to fully stock. Dried herbs hang in neat bundles along the walls, all organized and clearly labeled. That information is second nature to Louis, who has been adding potions to coffee and tea to treat ailments since he was a preteen, but the labels make it easier for Mia to keep up.

Louis pauses the counterclockwise stirring of a cold remedy that can be added to lattes and looks longingly out the window at the people passing by the shop without giving it a second glance. 

He desperately needs some foot traffic. Or word of mouth. Or a miracle. 

Actually, he could use all three.

He walks over to the door and flips the sign on the door to Open, barely holding back his sigh.

“Maybe today’s the day,” he mutters.

Louis has just returned to his stirring when he hears the door chime, perking him up immediately. He lifts his head with a huge smile, only for it to immediately deflate when Mia strolls in, two pastries in her hands and her backpack slung over one shoulder. 

“Don’t look so excited to see me,” she says sarcastically, walking behind the counter and dropping her backpack on the floor. “You should at least be able to muster a smile for some carbs.” 

“I do appreciate the carbs,” Louis admits, accepting the pastry she’s holding out toward him. 

He takes a huge bite and can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face at the taste.

“Thank you,” Louis says. It comes out muffled from the pastry in his mouth, but Mia knows him well enough by now to understand. She laughs, offers him a salute, and takes a similarly massive bite of her own. 

When they’ve both chewed and swallowed, she begins her daily interrogation.

“How was yesterday?” Mia asks. “Were customers lined up around the block? Every table taken?” 

Louis takes another bite and rolls his eyes.

“Not exactly,” he says flatly when he’s swallowed. “Aside from one lady who came in to ask if Starbucks is one block or two blocks away, it was just me and my existential dread here all day.”

“That’s very witchcore of you to say. I hope you hexed that lady though. Starbucks,” Mia says, a full body shudder running through her. “Honestly, have some fucking self-respect.” 

Even Louis has to crack a smile at that. 

“We’ll turn this around,” Mia says, grabbing her apron and tying it around her waist with a determined look. “People in this town just take time to adjust to anything new.”

“Or anything owned by a supernatural who isn’t a bloodsucker or fleabag,” Louis adds with a grimace.

Mia shoots him a disapproving look. “Everyone is just more familiar with vampires and werewolves around here,” she tells him. It’s to her credit that she sounds so patient despite the fact that she has a version of this conversation with Louis daily. “They've always just been more active in the town. Witches are around too, but they’re all quiet, antisocial weirdos.”

Louis shoots her an unamused glance.

“Except you, of course!” Mia says with an exaggerated wink. 

Louis sighs heavily and returns to his stirring. 

“So, how’s it going with Landon?” Mia asks as she begins brewing some coffee.

“He’s still fucking awful,” Louis says. The potion is about finished now, so he grabs an empty jar from the shelf and begins to pour the purple, caramel-smelling liquid into it. “He keeps finding excuses to stop by and remind me how perfect my apartment is and how lucky I am that he keeps the rent so low. Next time he drops by without warning, I’m going to hex his shoes so they fill up with swamp water every time he steps outside.”

“You know, I’m almost always pro-hexing, but you can’t hex your landlord,” Mia says gently.

“Yes, I can,” Louis replies. “I just probably shouldn’t.”

Mia laughs as she takes the jar from him, adding it to an empty spot in the cabinet beside the other coffee and tea additions Louis has brewed over the past couple of days. None consumed yet, of course, due to the lack of customers.

“Okay, change of subject. You’re coming out with me tonight,” Mia announces.

Louis arches a brow. He’s not opposed, but he needs more details before he commits. “Where?”

“Fang,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at him ridiculously. “Best dive bar in town, and you can’t complain about convenience because your apartment is literally right above it.”

“A vampire bar? Absolutely not,” Louis says. “Mia, I own a witchy coffee shop. I can’t be seen in a vampire bar. My reputation—”

“Is nonexistent,” she replies cheerfully. “So you might as well have fun.”

Louis narrows his eyes at her, but has no comeback. Mainly because she’s right.

“And,” Mia adds slyly, “The owner is ridiculously hot.”

Louis sniffs and turns his attention to the list of potions he plans to whip up today. 

“Trust me, I’ve met hot vampires and they’re all the same. Broody, dramatic, and emotionally constipated.”

The door chimes again, and they both turn hopefully at the prospect of an actual customer.

Instead, they’re greeted by the sight of an overly hairy werewolf with a smirk. He fills the doorway like a wall of muscle wrapped in a leather jacket.

He immediately turns his yellow eyes on Louis, who has to force himself not to flinch. 

“Morning,” Landon says when neither of them greets him, his tone overly casual.

Louis remains quiet, but he notices that his barista steps partially between him and his landlord, adding an additional barrier despite the counter still between them. Mia is a few inches shorter than him and probably doesn’t weigh more than 110 pounds soaking wet, but Louis appreciates the gesture just the same. 

Landon saunters toward the counter. “Quiet day again, huh?”

Louis forces a smile. “It’s early,” he says through gritted teeth.

Landon leans his elbows on the counter, trying to crowd into Louis’ space. His voice lowers. “Rent’s due next week. I was in the area and figured I’d drop by to make sure you haven’t forgotten.”

“I haven’t,” Louis says tightly. “Especially since you’ve dropped by the apartment almost every other day for the past two weeks. I’ll have the money ready.”

Landon hums. “You know, Louis…if you ever need a little help, we might be able to work something out.”

Louis’ stomach turns as Mia’s hand reaches back and squeezes his wrist in warning.

“Thanks for the offer,” Louis says as politely as he can muster. “But I’m fine.”

Landon smiles again, his yellow eyes glowing. “Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to this cute little shop.” 

He glances around at the shelves behind Louis and Mia, and then Louis watches as his wolf eyes scan the empty tables and mismatched chairs that have been carefully arranged around the room for a maximum cozy vibe. Once he’s finished his appraisal, he turns on his heel and disappears back through the front door as quickly as he came.

After Landon has vanished from their line of sight, Mia lets out a breath. 

“Okay. That was…” She trails off.

“Horrifying?” Louis finishes her sentence for her. “Yet also normal, for that fucking creep.”

“Louis,” Mia says sympathetically, squeezing his arm again gently. “You should tell someone.”

Louis scoffs. “Who? The supernatural council in this town that loves him and his father both? They would never, ever take the side of an unknown witch with an empty coffee shop over one of the most well-known werewolf landlord families in town. I have enough problems without making enemies of anyone around here, so I’ll pass, thanks.”

Mia sighs. 

“Well, with Landon stopping by your apartment and now even your shop at all hours of the day and night, that’s all the more reason to come out tonight. You need a distraction.”

Walking into the vampire bar below his apartment sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but fuck, Louis really does.

Desperately.

He runs a hand through his hair, adjusting his fringe as he does. “Fine,” he says eventually. “I’ll go.”

Mia’s face lights up. “Fuck yes! I claim any hot humans, but all the supernatural men are fair game. I really hope you’ll get the chance to meet the hot vampire owner.”

Louis waves her off. “Vampires aren't my type. And please—he’s probably sixty years dead and shaped like a toothpick.”

Mia just smiles like she knows something he doesn’t.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Louis tries to back out of their night out at least three times before Mia leaves for the day. 

He plans his night in his head even as Mia repeatedly refuses him his freedom. He could take a long bath, maybe cry into a mug of chamomile, and go to sleep by 9 PM. It would be so lovely.

Unfortunately, Mia is a cruel bully who doesn't listen to him. She and Louis have only been friends for a few weeks, but he's already too scared of her to refuse her once her mind's made up.

Still, Louis is immediately filled with regret for his choice the second he steps inside Fang.

The bar is dimly lit and smoky, with the scent of sweat, blood, and alcohol filling the air. Neon lights flicker menacingly from above the bar. Louis can tell that there are humans, vampires, and werewolves scattered around the room, though he hasn’t seen any witches besides himself so far. Despite the variety, vampires far outnumber the other species, which Louis supposes he should have expected. He can see the bloodsuckers lounging on stools at the bar, dancing with each other in the open spaces, and draped all over their consenting human partners in the booths lining one side of the room. 

Louis hates bars. He hates crowds. And he especially hates being prey in a room full of predators.

Mia tugs on his arm, dragging him in deeper, and now it’s too late to turn back.

“Come on, boss. It’s time for you to loosen up,” she says, leading him toward an empty booth.

“I am loose,” Louis lies, glaring over at the vampires in the booths on either side of them.

“Sure,” she mutters, eyes rolling back into her head.

Louis sinks into the red velvet booth and leans his elbows on the table, hoping he comes across as bored and disinterested. He’s almost certain the vampires in the room can hear his heartbeat thumping at double speed, but he hopes they’re more preoccupied with the open neck and wrist wounds all around them to care.

Mia is just about to go grab them drinks when a shadow falls over their table. 

She abruptly stops speaking and glances up, her mouth dropping open in a very undignified manner.

Louis giggles slightly at her reaction and follows her line of sight to see who’s joined them. 

The smile drops off his face immediately. 

It’s a vampire standing there with a wide grin, his fangs glinting in the dim light. 

Louis immediately knows this is the owner of the bar. He’d like to pretend that being psychic is one of his witchy talents (unfortunately, that was always more of his mom’s thing), but it’s actually just because the vampire standing there is just as gorgeous as Mia mentioned earlier. He’s at least six feet tall and has dark hair, cropped short, but just long enough to expose curls at the base of his neck. 

He has a dimple, which Louis finds disturbing. He’s also looking straight at Louis.

“Well,” the vampire drawls, his voice curling around Louis like warm smoke. “What do we have here?”

Louis hates the way his heart stutters. He keeps his lips sealed shut.

Mia perks up instead. “Hey! Harry, right? I come here all the time and love it. I’m Mia.”

Harry replies without his gaze leaving Louis' face.

“I am,” he says. “It’s great to meet you, Mia. I appreciate your patronage. Who’s your friend?”

Louis doesn’t have to look at Mia to know that she’s smirking. Instead, he keeps his eyes on Harry’s and sits up a little straighter. “I’m not her friend, actually. I’m her boss.”

Mia elbows him and hisses, “Louis.” 

Harry’s mouth curved into a predatory grin. “Oh? Even better.”

Louis glares automatically, but Harry just looks delighted.

“You own that new coffee shop, don’t you, Louis?” Harry asks, taking full advantage of Mia having exposed his name.

Louis doesn’t respond, but he sees Mia nodding frantically next to him.

“I could tell you had something a little witchy about you. Can I get you something to drink?” Harry asks, leaning one hand against the booth so he can push his body far too close for Louis’ comfort.

Louis lifts his chin. “I can order from the bar like everyone else.”

“Mmm,” Harry murmurs. “But since it’s your first time in my bar, I want to provide you with our best service.” 

Louis scoffs. “How do you know it’s my first time in your bar? And besides, I don’t drink vampire cocktails.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle. “Oh, believe me…if you’d been here before, I’d have noticed. And as for the cocktails,” he says, emphasizing the first half of the word in a way that makes Louis swallow. “Don’t knock ‘em until you've tried ‘em.” 

It really isn’t fair that vampires sound like sin when they flirt.

Louis feels a blush creeping up his neck and coloring his cheeks. “I’m not here for whatever this is.”

“You sure?” Harry asks softly. “Because you’re looking at me like you want something.”

Louis bristles. “I’m looking at you like you’re blocking the light with your huge arms and shoulders.”

Mia covers her laugh with her hand.

“I’m glad you’ve noticed the shape of my body,” Harry says with a low chuckle. “I've noticed yours as well.” 

Louis’ mouth drops open in shock at the vampire’s forwardness. 

And he was not noticing Harry’s body. 

Harry turns his head toward the bar and holds up two fingers to the nearest bartender. A few seconds later, before Louis has had a chance to chew this vampire out, the bartender brings over two blood red cocktails and places them in front of Louis and Mia. 

“We don’t want these,” Louis says, giving the drink in front of him a small sniff. 

“We do, actually,” Mia says, but neither Louis nor Harry acknowledges that she’s spoken.

Louis tries not to shiver under the vampire’s intense gaze. He’s about to push the drink away for real when another bartender calls out to Harry from across the room.

“Boss, we’re out of O-negative!”

Harry tears his gaze away from Louis as though it's painful. 

“I’ll check on you later, little witch,” Harry murmurs. “Try not to miss me.”

“I won’t,” Louis replies sweetly.

Harry just smirks and walks away.

Louis tries not to stare at the muscles in his back moving beneath his silk shirt as he goes. When Harry disappears from his sight, he finally breaks his eyes away and looks back at Mia, feeling a little warm.

Mia sips her drink with a knowing look in her eyes. “So…vampires aren't your type, eh?”

Louis takes a sip of his drink (which is definitely not delicious, by the way) and kicks her under the table.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Three days later, Louis regrets all of his life choices.

His apartment—located above Fang thanks to the cursed coincidence of proximity—looks like a war zone. There are still unpacked boxes scattered around the living room despite Louis having moved in weeks ago. Potion supplies are tucked into corners and strewn across his kitchen counters. The clothes piled in his armchair are beginning to resemble the leaning Tower of Pisa.

Louis has been working nonstop in the shop, trying to perfect coffee and tea recipes, even as only a small trickle of patrons passes in and out each day. At this point, Louis isn’t even sure how much longer he can afford to keep Mia on, but he also knows that the shop will be impossible to run completely on his own.

So naturally, with all things in Louis’ life working against him, the universe decides Harry should reappear.

Louis is lugging an enormous box of mismatched mugs that he thrifted for his shop into the alley between the building next door and the building that contains both Fang and his apartment. There’s a doorway there that leads up a rickety staircase to Louis’ apartment, and Louis is just about to open said door, the box balanced precariously on his hip, when a voice almost startles him into dropping it.

“Need help?”

Just as the box begins to drop, two pale hands reach out to steady it. 

“Don’t sneak up on people!” Louis scolds him, adjusting his hands to keep the box within his grasp.

“I didn’t sneak,” Harry says as he takes a step back and leans against the side of the brick building, crossing his arms. He looks infuriatingly handsome in all black. “You’re just jumpy.”

Louis glances away. “I’m not jumpy, I’m just too busy.”

Harry raises an eyebrow and seems to recognize the effort that Louis is putting into holding up the box. “Does that weigh 200 pounds?”

Louis glares. “It has a bunch of glass and ceramic mugs in it,” he says defensively.

Harry steps forward and lifts the box out of his arms like it weighs nothing. “Where to?”

Louis tries not to stare at the way Harry’s biceps flex. “My apartment upstairs,” he mutters.

Harry gestures for Louis to lead the way and then begins following him up the narrow staircase.

“You don’t seem surprised that I live up here,” Louis says, glancing behind him.

“I saw you around before your friend dragged you into my bar,” Harry tells him. Louis isn’t sure why his face flushes at that, but he wills his body to behave as he unlocks the door at the top of the stairs and ushers Harry into his place. As soon as they enter, Harry stops and looks around slowly at the mess.

“…Wow.”

Louis pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been working! And I don’t have magic for big stuff, okay? Stronger magic may show up for me one day, but for now, I usually have to brute-force my boxes and belongings like a normal human being.” He wants to flinch away from Harry’s gaze, but he refuses to be embarrassed. Louis knows that he’s an incredibly talented potion master, even if he doesn’t excel in other magical areas. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Rather than mocking him, Louis is surprised to see that Harry’s gaze softens. 

“Hey, you’ll receive no judgment from me,” Harry says, setting the box down gently on the table.

Louis blinks at him.

“You do potions, though,” Harry says. It’s not a question.

“Yes,” Louis confirms, chin lifting. “Very well.”

“I figured,” Harry says. “I could smell the herbs when I walked in.”

Louis’s stomach flips. “Oh. Good.”

Harry steps closer, smirking again. “I know you didn’t like me when we first met, but has my doing manual labor for you helped to win you over, even just a little bit?”

Louis scoffs and tries to subtly take a step back. Harry smells really good. “Absolutely not.”

“So my carrying heavy things does nothing for you?”

“I had it covered,” Louis says, even as his heart flips in his chest. “Plus, now I’ll have to sanitize the box.”

“Sure,” Harry laughs. “You’re adorable, little witch.”

Louis’ mouth drops open in outrage. “Do not ever call me adorable again, you bloodsucking demon.”

Harry’s grin just widens at Louis’ insult. “We’re called vampires, darling,” he says. “And you’re telling me to never call you adorable again, but why should I? What would you do about it?” 

Louis summons the limited magic he has in his body and flicks his fingers in Harry’s direction.

The vampire glances down. His black jeans are now sporting hot pink polka dots.

Harry bursts out laughing. “Louis, baby. These are incredible.”

Louis steps forward and smacks the vampire’s chest. The nerve on this guy. 

“I’m not your baby,” he says as he begins to successfully push Harry back toward the door. He suspects that it’s more because Harry is allowing himself to be pushed than it is any strength on Louis’ part, but he’s going to ignore that reality because it’s too embarrassing to face.

“Not yet,” Harry says with a wink.

“Get out,” Louis hissed, yanking the door open and forcing the vampire through it. As soon as the vampire is on the landing at the top of the stairwell, Louis slams the door closed in his face.

He pauses, hating the way he can feel all the blood coursing through every inch of his veins.

After a second of catching his breath, Louis flings the door back open. The vampire is still standing there.

“Thanks for carrying the box up here, though,” Louis adds begrudgingly before closing the door again, gently this time.

He ignores the way he can hear Harry’s laugh echoing through the stairwell. 

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

The bell above the door of Witches Brew chimes, a soft, tinkling note that is absolutely at odds with Louis’ mood. He doesn’t bother looking up from the counter where he’s grinding a stack of herbs into a fine paste, muttering a few choice curses under his breath. 

Potions may be his specialty, but that doesn’t mean they’re easy to get right. Louis does not have many customers now, but he knows that the number will drop to zero should he ever screw these up. If people come here seeking a coffee that will treat their acne or a tea that soothes sore muscles, he’s going to make sure that they get just that. Witches Brew was always intended to provide a one-stop shop for world-class potions and beverages.

The grinder slips, and half of his last hour of work falls to the floor.

“Fuck,” Louis groans, burying his face in his hands.

“Rough morning?”

Louis jumps, having already forgotten that somebody just entered the shop. He almost wants to jump a second time when he registers the owner of the voice that interrupted him. 

Of course, Harry would choose today to appear—a day when Louis is already feeling sleep-deprived, stressed, and poor. And let’s not forget that he smells faintly of burned lavender.

Slowly, Louis straightens and tries to pull himself together, wiping his hands on his apron. He gives the vampire the flattest look he can muster and tries not to look like he’s on the brink of tears.

“Sorry, no bats allowed,” Louis tells the vampire. He makes the mistake of looking too closely at Harry’s face and notices that he looks more scruffy than usual. It's an unusual look for a vampire, as they generally prefer a clean-shaven look. It looks terrible on him anyway.

Louis bites his lip and looks away, but not before he catches sight of Harry’s smirk.

The vampire leans an elbow on the counter and lets his height loom over Louis. He’s not wearing his polka-dotted pants today, instead opting for another all-black outfit consisting of ripped jeans, a fitted long-sleeve shirt, and an expression that says he’s thoroughly enjoying himself.

“I’m a paying customer,” Harry says.

Louis blinks.

“You haven’t paid for anything, actually,” Louis informs him. 

Harry slides a $10 bill onto the counter with two pale fingers. “I have now.”

This vampire is annoyingly smooth and infuriatingly charming. Louis grinds his teeth together.

“What can I get for you?” Louis asks with his fakest customer service voice. “If you say ‘you,’ I swear I’ll—”

“A cappuccino,” Harry says, surprisingly quickly. “And also you.”

Louis groans. “You have a one-track mind.”

“When it comes to pretty witches, yes,” Harry says, drumming his fingers on the counter. Louis glances down and catches sight of his daylight walking ring, which he supposes explains the vampire’s presence in his shop at 11 AM. Louis asks the powers that be for mental strength to get through this encounter and sighs heavily.

Harry’s only the third customer he’s had this morning, so once he’s done sighing, he pushes aside his frustration and begins getting started on the drink. As he pulls the milk out of the small fridge under the counter, he tries to ignore the way Harry’s gaze follows him like a warm hand on his back. Actually, no—Harry’s hand would be cold. Ice cold, since he's a vampire. Which somehow makes the thought more embarrassing.

“Why are you here?” Louis asks while he pours. “Did you sense that I was having a terrible morning and decide to see what you could do to make it worse?”

Harry hums from behind him. “Actually, your friend Mia was at Fang last night with a couple of her college friends. She mentioned that she’d invited you, but you were too stressed to come. The bar doesn’t open until this afternoon, so I figured I’d wander a couple of blocks over to Witches Brew to check on you.” 

Louis finishes his pour and spins around, the filled cup in hand. 

“I don’t need checking on,” he tells him, ignoring the butterflies working their way through his stomach.

“I know,” Harry says. “But I wanted to anyway.”

Something in Louis’ chest twists. 

He snaps a lid onto the cup harder than necessary. “That’s kind of you, but not needed.”

Harry accepts the drink but doesn’t leave. Instead, he takes a long sip and lets his eyes close, groaning in pleasure in a way that makes Louis’ toes curl inside his shoes. He digs his own nails into his thigh.

The vampire leans in to Louis, lowering his voice until it’s just a degree above a whisper.

“You know, if you ever need help,” Harry murmurs. “Carrying things, fixing things, chasing off annoying people, I’m your man.”

“I don’t,” Louis says a little too quickly.

“Or if you need someone to bite you a little,” Harry continues.

Louis smacks him with a napkin.

Harry laughs, delighted. “God, you’re fun.”

“And you’re exhausting,” Louis says, despite the warm feeling in his belly.

Something about that comment makes the smile slip from the vampire’s face for the first time since he entered Louis’ coffee shop. Louis feels guilty for a split second, wondering if he’s taken the banter too far and actually offended the arrogant vampire, but then he notices that Harry is studying his face.

“You look tired,” Harry says quietly. “Are you sleeping okay?”

Louis starts to bristle at the concern, but the question hits too close to home.

“I’m fine,” he says as confidently as possible. 

Harry reaches forward and skims his fingers over the dark circles under Louis’ eyes. His eyes are soothingly cool, and Louis can’t help but allow his eyelids to flutter at the feeling. 

“You should let someone take care of you once in a while.”

Louis' eyes fly back open. “Like who? You?”

Harry’s fangs peeked out as another slow smile spreads across his handsome face.

“I mean, yes, if you insist,” he says.

Louis can’t help but let out a laugh despite the stress and exhaustion radiating through every cell of his body.

“Your drink is getting cold,” Louis mutters, hoping the vampire ignores his blush. “Now go away.”

Harry hesitates, but after a moment, he steps back with his drink in hand, heading to the door. 

Just before he exits, he glances over his shoulder and says, “I’ll be back.”

“Please don’t,” Louis replies with a roll of his eyes.

Harry winks again. “Your mouth says no, but your magic keeps sparking when I’m around.”

Louis freezes and looks down at the napkin still in his hand, which is now emitting pink sparks.

He stares down in shock, and by the time he’s looked back up, Harry’s gone. 

Louis’ fingertips continue to spark with a pulse of magic that's stronger than he's ever felt before. He drops the napkin and grabs hold of the counter for stability.

“Damn vampires,” he mutters. “Ridiculous. Overconfident. Annoying.”

Still, he doesn’t stop smiling for the next ten minutes. His magic doesn't die down either.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Louis has just finished wiping down a table when the door opens. It hasn’t been what he would call a busy morning, but he did get a few more customers than usual. He can’t help but wonder if a certain vampire’s word of mouth contributed to that.

When he hears the chime, he turns toward it with a big smile, excited to see who's stopped by. Unfortunately, he’s immediately struck with the stench of pine, cheap cologne, and testosterone-fueled entitlement.

Louis stiffens.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Landon drawls. His voice has the gravelly quality of a werewolf who also smokes a pack of cigarettes a day. “This place looks quiet. Again.”

Louis forces his jaw to unclench.

“It’s eleven in the morning on a Tuesday,” he says, trying to keep the rage out of his tone.

“Excuses, excuses.” Landon walks further inside, his boots thudding loudly against the floor. He leans against the counter, too close to Louis for comfort, grinning with his sharp canines. His positioning isn’t dissimilar to Harry’s when he visited last, but rather than feeling butterflies, all he feels is disgust. 

“Y’know, it wouldn’t be so dead in here if you took me up on my offer,” Landon says.

Louis keeps his face blank. “I don’t mix work and desperation.”

Landon’s eyes narrow. “You think I’m desperate for you?”

“Yes,” Louis says simply. He probably shouldn’t be speaking to his landlord like this, but enough is enough. 

It was hard enough for Louis to move to this town by himself and start a new business while knowing absolutely no one except the one person (Mia) who called after seeing the “Now Hiring!” sign. He’s been trying his hardest to earn people’s business and trust, but the fact that this leering werewolf is always hovering two steps behind him, making him feel uncomfortable and stressed, is really not helping.

The werewolf in question growls under his breath.

He isn’t shifting, but the air around them has thickened, vibrating with the threat. Louis is shocked to see the lights in the shop flicker, indicating that his weak magic is begging to make an appearance in his defense. 

Landon’s gaze drags slowly down Louis’ body. 

“You’re looking thin. Not eating? Or are you just too busy playing hard to get?”

Louis moves over to the espresso machine just so he can have something more between them.

“I’m not playing anything,” he tells Landon with a glare. “I’m just not interested.”

“You say that now,” Landon murmurs. “But your apartment belongs to me. And if your little shop keeps underperforming…” His grin widens. “Well, rent might have to go up.”

Louis’ stomach drops, but he masks it with a sarcastic smile.

“You know, most people would tell you that it’s not wise to threaten a witch.” 

Landon barks out a raspy laugh. “Please,” he says. “You don’t have enough magic to hex a goldfish.”

Louis’ fingertips prickle, another involuntary spark responding to the insult. His hands are shaking slightly, overwhelmed by Landon’s threat and the abnormal rush of magic, but he hides them behind the counter. 

Landon leans in close enough that Louis can see the flecks of amber in his eyes and smell his meaty breath. “I love when you pretend you’re powerful,” the werewolf says mockingly. 

Louis refuses to back up, even as every instinct screams at him to get away.

“If you’re done harassing your tenants for the day,” Louis says calmly. “I have work to do.” 

Landon’s smile slips briefly before returning to his face, sharper than before.

“If you keep mouthing off like that,” Landon says, “someone’s gonna put you in your place.”

Louis doesn’t respond, but he hopes his eyes are glaring daggers. 

The door opens behind them suddenly, and Landon straightens, annoyance etched into every line on his ugly face. A bedraggled woman walks in, clearly desperate for coffee, and based on her voice as she greets Louis, probably a cough or sore throat remedy.

Landon turns and starts walking toward the door, but just before he reaches it, he turns.

“Rent’s due next week. Expect new terms,” he says.

Louis swallows hard and turns back toward the customer.

“Welcome to Witches Brew,” he says, forcing a smile on his face. “What can I get for you?”

When the door closes behind the werewolf, Louis finally allows himself to breathe. He only half pays attention to the woman, but she walks out smiling with a drink in her hand just a few minutes later, so hopefully she didn’t notice that anything was off with his behavior. He really can’t afford to drive off any customers at this point.

When he’s alone again, he glances down at his hands as though he might be able to see the magic zipping under his skin. He’s not sure what’s going on with him, but he hates the uncertainty of it.

And more than that, Louis hates how, for a split second while Landon was looming over him, he found himself wishing that Harry was there.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

After closing the shop for the day, Louis pulls his jacket around him more tightly and walks the couple of blocks home. The late afternoon sun reflects off the brick walls at an odd angle, painting everything in the alley in shades of gold and shadow. He digs a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it with shaking fingers, inhaling deeply. The smoke curls lazily into the air, carrying some of his tension with it.

Louis rarely gives in to this particular vice anymore, but he needs it today. 

He inhales again, closing his eyes and letting the nicotine take control of his nerves.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Harry’s voice says suddenly from beside him. 

Louis’ eyes fly open to find that the vampire has once again managed to sneak up on him. 

Louis narrows his eyes. “Mind your own business.”

Harry pushes off the wall and takes a slow step toward him. “I think you are my business, actually,” he says solemnly. 

Louis lets out a laugh and tightens his grip on the cigarette. “I’m definitely not, and you should leave.”

Harry stops just a foot away from him. He’s just close enough for Louis to push him away easily, but instead, Louis finds himself wanting to pull the vampire in closer. Rather than thinking more about that impulse, or god forbid, actually acting upon it, Louis drops the cigarette and crushes it under his shoe.

“I don’t think you want me to,” Harry says softly.

Louis continues to look down at his foot, still grinding the cigarette into the asphalt. “I said leave.”

Harry reaches out and grabs Louis’ chin, tilting it up gently. His hands are just as cold as you’d expect an undead person’s to be, but for some reason, Louis doesn’t want to pull away. 

“Now say it like you mean it,” Harry says, his minty breath stroking across Louis’ lips. 

Louis opens his mouth, intent on doing just that, but the words won’t come out. 

Harry raises one eyebrow and smiles. 

Louis should push this vampire away from him and run up the stairs two at a time until he reaches his apartment. He should lock the door, cook himself a hot dinner, and fall asleep on the couch with the TV on. He should ignore the faint sound of the bass from Fang that always vibrates through his apartment. He should not think about vampires with sexy curls and scruff and infuriating levels of self-esteem.

He should, should, should.

But he doesn’t want to. 

Louis pushes up on his toes and presses his lips against Harry’s, chasing the mint straight to the source. If Harry is surprised, he doesn’t show it, immediately licking into Louis’ mouth and pressing him gently into the wall behind them, one hand behind Louis’ head to prevent him from slamming it into the brick.

As Harry grasps his chin and kisses him more deeply than Louis can ever remember being kissed, he realizes that he has somehow completely lost control of this situation. The vampire is all over him, his overwhelming presence reaching all the way into Louis' skin and bones, and that just doesn’t make sense.

This man is just as much of a predator as Louis’ landlord, if not more, but his dangerous edge takes a much different shape. If Landon feels like a weapon, Harry feels like a shield.

“You like me, baby,” Harry murmured, voice low and teasing. “Don’t even try to pretend you don’t.”

Louis twists away slightly, a protest forming on the tip of his tongue, but Harry kisses it away.

“Before you try to respond,” Harry says when he finally pulls away, leaving Louis breathless. “You should know that I like it when you’re mean to me. I really, really like it.” 

Louis hopes that the shadows hide his blush. 

His lips part, intending to argue with Harry for real this time, but then he feels Harry’s fangs dragging gently down his neck. Louis can’t help but push forward into the feeling, horrified at himself for his desperation, but when he feels how hard Harry is against him, the horror turns to something else. 

“Go on,” Harry whispered, letting his mouth hover near Louis’ ear. “Tell me off.”

Louis whimpers and Harry’s grin widens. “Good boy,” the vampire whispers.

Harry tilts his head and kisses him again softly, just a brush of lips. 

“I should get back to my bar,” the vampire says then, stepping back. 

Louis stands there frozen against the wall, somehow feeling colder now that the vampire pulled back. His brain has short-circuited enough that he can’t think of a single sarcastic retort, so he just stares at Harry, half irritated, and half horny. 

“I’ll see you soon, my little witch,” Harry says before he disappears around the corner. 

“I’m not yours,” Louis protests weakly, but the vampire’s already long gone. 

As Louis tries to calm down his heart, he wonders who he’s trying to convince. 

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Louis is on the phone with Mia, chatting about a new tea that he infused with a potion that lessens the symptoms of menopause, when he hears a knock on his door. He freezes.

“Uh, Mia, somebody’s at the door,” he says. “I’ll talk to you at the shop tomorrow."

“It better not be that werewolf bastard,” Mia starts to say, but Louis is already hanging up.

He slowly walks over to his door and glances through the peephole. The only two people who have knocked on his door since he moved here are Landon and Mia. Even delivery drivers usually end up leaving their packages for him in the alley outside because they aren't sure whether they're allowed to open the door to the stairwell or not. 

When Louis sees who’s at the door, he only hesitates for a second before pulling it open.

“Mail for you,” Harry says in greeting, holding out a small bundle of letters and packages. “These were delivered to the bar by accident.”

Louis sighs and smooths his fringe. “You could have just left it in the stairwell like your bartenders do every other time this happens,” he says, though he struggles to inject genuine frustration into his tone. 

Harry steps into his apartment without waiting for Louis to invite him (if only the legends about vampires needing an invitation were true). Louis is immediately overwhelmed by the vampire’s scent, a mix of vanilla and coffee with just the slightest metallic edge. He can't help but wonder if his breath is as minty as it was last time they interacted in close quarters.

“I figured you were busy,” Harry says with a shrug. “Thought I’d be helpful.”

Louis scowls. “I’m fine. I’m capable. I don’t need—”

“You don’t need me,” Harry finishes for him, his voice dropping low. “I know....but I also know that you like having me around anyway.” The vampire starts walking over to the kitchen to place the mail on the counter.

Louis follows him over and smacks him lightly on the arm. 

“I don’t,” he says, though the unnecessary touching contradicts his words. 

The vampire’s grin widens, slow and predatory. “You do. And I like that you like having me around.”

Louis mumbles under his breath. “You’re impossible.”

“Exactly,” Harry says. He’s just opened his mouth to say something else when his eye catches on a piece of paper. Harry frowns and cuts himself off, picking the paper up and skimming it quickly.

“What’s this?” He asks, his voice taking on a dark tone that Louis’ never heard before. 

Louis grabs the paper out of his hand. It’s the notification of his rent increase that Louis received yesterday.

He folds it quickly and shoves it beneath the stack of mail that Harry just brought in. “It’s nothing.”

Harry’s eyes narrow. “That didn’t look like nothing.”

Louis forces a shrug. “It’s just rent stuff—landlord nonsense, you know how it is. It's not worth getting upset about.”

“I wasn’t notified of a rent increase for Fang. How much?” Harry asks suspiciously. 

Louis tries to keep his voice light. “Harry, it’s fine.”

“How much?” Harry repeats more firmly. He holds Louis’ face in his hand so Louis can’t turn away.

Louis inhales his minty breath and sighs. “A couple of hundred dollars a month.”

Harry goes very, very still. “You’re kidding.”

Louis crosses his arms. “I’m not. But it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“It’s exactly as bad as it sounds,” Harry snaps. “You’ve only just started a new business and there’s no way you’re making enough money to deal with a rent increase after one fucking month of living here.”

Louis lifts his chin defensively. “I’ll manage.”

Harry leans his forehead against Louis’ and closes his eyes, looking pained.

“Louis, I know we haven’t spent that much time together,” Harry says. Louis can tell he’s straining to keep his voice calm. “But every time I see you, you’re running on a handful of hours of sleep, brewing potions, and talking about how few customers are showing up at your shop.”

“Things are getting better,” Louis says, though that’s stretching the truth a little.

“Don’t lie to me,” Harry says. “You’re stretching yourself thin, and now that mangy beast is raising your rent by hundreds of dollars? Why? Because you don’t want him to fuck you?”

Louis flinches. “Oh, please,” he mutters. “It’s not like that. Landlords always suck. That’s life.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I know Landon,” Harry says. “I’ve known him for years, in fact, and I’ve known his father even longer. I should have guessed that you would be the perfect target for that fucking creep. And a rent increase like that is not just  ‘life,’ Louis. It’s someone targeting and harassing you. That's not acceptable.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Louis tells him, leaning up to capture Harry’s lips. He tries not to think about how this is the second time that he’s initiated contact like this with someone that he pretends he can’t stand. 

Harry kisses him for only a few seconds before pulling back.

“You don’t get to distract me because you know how much I want you,” Harry tells him, and Louis’ heart skips a beat at that. “This conversation is more important.” 

Louis takes Harry’s hands and moves them to his ass, pressing them closer together. He sees a slight flicker in Harry’s expression that exposes him, and that’s enough for Louis to have an in.

“Please,” Louis murmurs, allowing a whine into his voice. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” 

“Fucking hell,” Harry says. “You’re tempting, but no." 

Louis pulls away, hating the sting he feels from the rejection. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asks quietly, grabbing his wrist gently so he can't go far.

Louis doesn’t answer, instead turning away and pretending to organize the mail into a neat pile. 

“You tell me when the espresso machine breaks,” Harry says. “You tell me when you’ve created a new potion that tastes like dirt. But you don’t tell me when your landlord tries to bleed you dry?”

Louis whirls back to him. “Yeah, because I knew you’d react like this!” He gestures wildly at Harry. “Vampires are always so fucking intense, and you’re the most intense one I’ve ever met! We've only known each other for like two weeks, and you're already acting like an overprotective bodyguard.”

Harry steps forward again, crowding him back against the counter, but not touching him. His voice is low and controlled when he finally speaks. “No, I’m reacting like someone who gives a damn,” he says.

Louis swallows hard. “Harry, please just stop. I have enough to worry about without wondering if you’re going to freak out on our landlord and get me kicked to the curb. I know that you only want to help, but I’m trying to make my new life here work, and I need to be able to manage that on my own. I can't have a vampire friend—or whatever you are—bursting in to save the day every time I'm in a tough situation."

Harry’s expression softens slightly. “Look at me,” he demands.

Louis does, his eyes tracing Harry’s features.

“I’m not trying to overreact or upset you,” Harry says. “I’m just disgusted that Landon thinks he can get away with this. And I’m furious that you’re here, stressing yourself sick over your shop and carrying the burden of Landon’s asshole behavior instead of just letting someone be in your corner. Someone besides Mia, that is.”

Louis huffs, trying to hide the crack forming in his armor. “I don’t need a protector.”

Harry leans in, his breath cool on Louis' face. “Then think of me as someone who hates seeing you hurt. That’s all.”

Louis’s voice drops. “I didn’t mean for you to see that notice,” he says.

“You never have to hide shit like this from me,” Harry says firmly. “I know that we both enjoy our banter, but I actually care about you, Louis. I would never do something to try to fuck up your life here.”

Louis looks away, feeling like an exposed wound. Harry lifts his chin with two fingers. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry tells him, leaning down to kiss him, the soothing balm to Louis’ wound.

Louis breathes out shakily.

“Are you still mad I didn’t tell you?” he asks, allowing a smirk of his own to widen across his face.

Harry’s eyes flash with heat. “Oh, incredibly.”

Louis swallows, his pulse skittering. Harry’s hand moves to Louis’ hip slowly, giving him every chance to pull away.

He doesn’t.

Harry kisses him again before pulling back, voice rough. Louis meets the vampire’s golden eyes and sees the desire in them. “Tell me to leave and I will,” Harry says.

He doesn’t.

Harry’s mouth crashes onto his hungrily, and Louis makes a helpless sound against his lips as he clutches onto Harry’s shirt, holding on for dear life. 

Heat ignites down Louis’s spine, the frustration and relief all melting into something far more dizzying. Harry lifts him easily, Louis’ legs wrapping around him as the vampire navigates around the last few unpacked boxes as though he owns the place. He carries Louis over to the couch and sits, adjusting Louis slightly in his arms until the witch is straddling his lap.

“I didn’t know vampires could be such drama queens,” Louis mutters breathlessly as Harry trails his fangs down Louis’ neck, leaving a trail of saliva that makes Louis shiver with need.

Harry huffs a dark laugh against his skin. “If you’re still able to talk, I’m doing something wrong.” 

For the next few minutes, Harry must do something very, very right, because Louis finds himself speechless. The vampire strips off both of their clothes while still managing to keep Louis within his tight grasp, a feat that leaves Louis wondering who the actual witch here is. 

When they’re finally naked, just skin on skin, Louis can’t stop himself from rubbing his hands down Harry’s chiseled torso. His tan skin stands out against Harry's porcelain white, and Louis is starting to feel feral.

“Need you,” Louis whimpers as Harry reaches behind him with two saliva-slick fingers. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Harry replies, breaching Louis’ hole gently. 

Louis throws his head back, moaning loudly as Harry fingers him open. It’s been a while since Louis had sex with anyone, but Harry’s good enough with his fingers that Louis barely notices when he adds a second and third finger.

“C’mon,” Louis says finally, overwhelmed by Harry rubbing the pads of his fingers against his prostate. His head drops onto Harry’s shoulder as he pants. 

He can’t manage to say anything else, but Harry gets it. He gently lifts Louis, hugging Louis' hips with his large, cool hands, and allows Louis to lower himself down onto Harry’s cock at his own pace. 

Louis was so enthralled by Harry’s fingers inside him that he hadn’t even thought ahead to this part. He gasps as each inch enters him, and every time he thinks Harry must have bottomed out, he’s proven wrong.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry says, groaning when Louis’ ass finally settles into the cradle of his hips, the vampire’s cock fully sheathed inside him. “You feel incredible.” 

When Louis gnaws helplessly at his shoulder in response, his fingers scratching down the vampire's back, Harry figures it’s time to move. 

Louis doesn’t do much more than hold on as Harry impales him on his cock again, and again, and again, and the only thoughts that cross his mind are fuck, oh god, and I’ll be ruined for any other sex after this. 

He can tell that Harry is close when his movements become slightly erratic, the first indication that he’s anything less than a vampiric sex god, and Louis can feel his fangs up against the side of his neck.

“Do it,” Louis says, rubbing his own cock helplessly against Harry’s abs. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry says, but he takes Louis at his word. Louis feels Harry’s fangs sink into his neck just as Harry empties inside him. He’s never been bitten by a vampire before, but the closest description that he can think of to describe the feeling is pure ecstasy. Harry is taking his blood at the same time that he gives Louis his come, and Louis’ own orgasm washes over him like a wave, sweeping him under the surface. 

He feels sparks under his skin and sees the lights flicker all around them.

And that’s the last thing Louis remembers for a while.

He’ll learn the next morning that Harry cleaned him up and tucked him into bed, bundling Louis up into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants so he could curl his icy, vampiric body around the witch without making him freeze to death in his sleep. 

He’ll learn the next morning that Harry has to leave early to run some errands, but the vampire will wake him up and kiss him goodbye before he goes, leaving Louis to fall back asleep with a smile on his face.

He’ll also learn the next morning that his rent increase notice is missing from his kitchen counter.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

When Harry next visits Louis’ shop, he’s busy stirring a calming elixir that can be added to tea to address migraines. Mia is next to him, leaning against the counter and flicking through a copy of Witches Weekly to see if there are any new potions that Louis might be able to adapt for some of their drinks.

“Hey, Harry,” Mia says, her eyes flicking between Harry and Louis. “What can we get you?”

“One of my human bartenders is sick,” Harry says. As usual, his eyes are on Louis even as he talks to Mia, but she doesn’t seem offended. “He needs a pick-me-up, and I thought of you guys immediately.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “That’s nice of you,” he says suspiciously. “Too nice, in fact.” 

“Awww, baby,” Harry says, leaning over the counter to press a cold kiss to Louis’ cheek. “You know I’d never pass up the opportunity to watch you work your magic—and look adorable while doing it.”

Louis’ teeth grind together. “I’m not adorable,” he protests for the millionth time.

“You’re even cuter when you deny it with that sweet glare on your face.”

Louis bites his lip to suppress a smile and begins rummaging through one of his cabinets. 

“Here,” he says finally, handing a small vial filled with brown liquid to Mia so she can add it to a cup of tea. She whips it up quickly and hands it to Harry, still not offended that he hasn't torn his eyes off Louis even once.

The vampire finally breaks eye contact for just a moment so he can glance down at the tea. He pulls off the lid to give it a quick sniff before putting it back on and offering them both a big smile.

“Looks good. Smells good. Probably tastes good. Just like the witch who made it.”

Louis’ cheeks heat as Mia starts laughing. “I despise you.”

Harry laughs, low and teasing, before leaning in closely enough that only Louis can hear him.

“That’s not what you were saying last night, baby,” he says, and Louis elbows him.

“You’d better get back to your sick bartender,” he says, shoving uselessly at Harry’s chest. When Harry doesn’t move even an inch, Louis exhales loudly. “Seriously, leave before I—”

“Hex me?” Harry finishes with a grin, his fangs glinting. “Try it, little witch.”

“Bye, Harry,” Mia says, still laughing. 

Louis just waves his hand helplessly in Harry’s direction as the vampire gives him a last wink and departs.

“Oh, you are so fucked,” Mia says when Harry’s gone. “In more ways than one.” 

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

The neon lights inside Fang bathe the bar in shades of red and purple that have quickly become familiar to Louis. Harry is standing behind the counter, polishing glasses with casual precision, while the faint hum of conversation, clinking bottles, and dance music fills the air. There is only a handful of patrons at the bar since it's a weeknight, but Louis has quickly found that he prefers this atmosphere to the more crowded moments.

Louis is sitting on a stool at the far end of the bar, sipping on a cherry cocktail that Harry whipped up for him. It turns out that Harry's as talented at making drinks as most of his bartenders.

Harry has mostly been caught up in interactions with his customers and employees tonight, but he glances over at Louis every few minutes. Every time he does, Louis makes a face or gags to indicate that he hates his drink.

This is his third of the night, and the small smile tugging at his lips might be betraying him, but that's beside the point.

When Harry finally feels like he's gotten enough work one to allow himself to be distracted, he steps into Louis' vicinity. 

“Busy with boss duties?” Louis asks, voice deliberately cool.

Harry smiles and leans in close. “Always,” he says, voice equally monotone, though his eyes are sparkling with amusement. Louis is close enough to see the red lines around his golden irises, which indicates that he needs to feed sometime soon. Louis supposes he'll likely be the human bloodbag for this particular vampire later tonight. That is, if his plans work out. 

“It must be hard to be the owner of a vampire dive bar,” he says, glancing around the room appreciatively.

“Almost as hard as being the owner of the best coffee shop in town,” Harry says, reaching out to pull Louis' hands over the counter toward him, massaging them with his cool fingers. 

"As if," Louis says dismissively, but there's a little bloom of hope in his chest. There have been more customers pouring into his shop lately, and though he knows that is likely partially the result of Harry spreading the word, a lot of them have told him that they heard from friends about the delicious coffee and tea options that they can use to address issues ranging from the common cold to heartache. 

"I said what I said," Harry says with a smile, his fingers still kneading at Louis' fingers, which he somehow knows are sore from another day of mixing potions. 

Louis is just about to respond when the front entrance to the bar bursts open far more violently than usual. Immediately, Louis' senses are overtaken by Landon's familiar, yet horrifying, stench of pine and cologne.

“Harry!” Landon barks as he swaggers over to the bar, anger rolling off his body in aggressive waves.

Harry freezes, the red in his eyes flashing for a second, before he straightens up. He lets go of Louis' hands and takes a couple of steps to the side to put some distance between them.

“What do you want?” Harry asks, not bothering to feign politeness. 

“Just wanted to talk business,” Landon says, his voice sharp and too loud in the mostly empty bar. Louis feels his spine stiffen at the werewolf's tone, which Harry clocks immediately. 

“About this building. About," the werewolf's gaze flickers over to Louis. “About this fucking witch.”

Harry is out from behind the bar before Louis even has time to flinch, the vampire positioning himself between Louis and Landon. The possessive energy radiating off him is like nothing Louis has ever experienced before.

“You can come back when you're sober and not half shifted,” Harry says smoothly, voice low and dangerous. Louis' eyes scan Landon's body upon hearing Harry's words. He quickly recognizes that the man's hands are much hairier than usual, and that his yellowed nails have grown to double their length. Louis tenses again, but Harry is still a barrier between himself and Landon, and that knowledge alone helps to calm Louis' fear. 

Landon’s face reddens with rage. “Careful, bloodsucker. You’re not—”

"Davis," Harry calls calmly to the werewolf bouncer standing in the corner. One of Harry's more genius ideas for this bar, in Louis' opinion, is having bouncers of all species present at all times.

Landon opens his mouth again, but Harry’s eyes lock onto him, silent but lethal. When Davis grabs his arm to manhandle him out of the establishment, Landon yanks it free and spits on the floor with rage. Clearly not wanting to be dragged to the door by a werewolf who's twice his size, Landon starts walking furiously out of the bar of his own volition, muttering under his breath about this not being over.

Louis exhales quietly, relief washing over him, though he tries to mask it with a scowl. “I can take care of myself,” he mutters under his breath, but he knows Harry heard it.

Harry smirks, reddish-golden eyes flicking over him, dark and possessive. “I think I might be better at that than you, actually,” he says, brushing his lips against Louis' in a way that makes it hard for him to be annoyed.

“I'm knocking on your door as soon as we close up for the night, by the way,” Harry says softly.

Louis groans exaggeratedly before draining his glass, enjoying every last sip of the cocktail.

"I dread it," Louis lies and presses one more kiss to Harry's lips.

The bar buzzes around them, but all Louis can feel is a warm rush of affection.

Landon might come back, and trouble might follow, but Harry has his back. For now, that's enough.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

They're not dating. That word is heavy, and messy, and implies rules that neither Louis nor Harry has agreed to.

Louis is pretty sure they're both following those rules anyway, but that's not relevant.

Harry drops by Witches Brew every morning, and Louis drops by Fang most nights. Sometimes they take a break from the constant stream of beverages associated with both of their businesses and get food (Harry usually sticks to blood, but Louis did convince him to try peanut butter). They went bowling once, which will never happen again (there's no reason why vampires should be so good at bowling). Sometimes they hold hands, but that's mostly because Louis has a terrible sense of direction and needs Harry to guide him so he doesn't end up wandering the streets like a lost child.

It's just simple, unattached fun, and good sex (incredible, really), and frequent insults. It's a break from Louis' constant worry about Landon and stress over how to scrounge up enough money to pay both Mia and his rent.

And Louis, despite himself, finds that he really likes this thing they have. He likes the easy rhythm, the push and pull, the simmering tension that leaves him on edge in the best possible way.

Again, it's not dating. That word has never once crossed their minds when they're together. 

Other words, sure. But certainly not that one. 

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Louis is wiping down the counter and chatting with a group of regulars (finally, they actually have regulars!) when the door of Witches Brew opens and Mia bursts through.

She's a few minutes late, but Louis doesn't care about that. All he cares about is finding out why Mia is currently walking through his coffee shop looking as though steam could pour out of her ears at any moment.

When she arrives behind the counter, she tosses her backpack off. It lands loudly, likely because of the books that she always has inside, and Louis' eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He smiles reassuringly at the group of women he was just talking to before Mia's dramatic entrance and offers another smile to a worried-looking couple sitting by the window before focusing his attention on Mia.

"Um," Louis says as Mia starts helping herself to a calming tea while muttering obscenities under her breath. "Are you...good?"

"Landon," Mia hisses to him after she finishes taking a long sip of her drink. "That fucking mutt." 

Louis' heart drops into his stomach. He hasn't heard much from Landon lately, but he knew it was just a matter of time.

“He’s been telling people to go to Starbucks,” Mia whispers to him, her voice tight. “Creeping on you, threatening you, raising your rent, and now he's making shit up about how our coffees aren't even good. A werewolf at the library overheard me talking about how I work here and mentioned how Landon has been spewing this nonsense and recommending Starbucks every chance he gets."

Anger curls in Louis' gut. God, he's so fucking sick of this man ruining his life. How did Louis manage to get stuck with the landlord from hell?

He sighs and rubs at his eyes tiredly. “Fuck. What should we do?"

Before Mia can respond, the bell above the door chimes, and in walks Harry. The vampire grins as soon as he catches sight of Louis, but his smile slips when he sees Louis' expression.

“You’ve got that 'I'm going to hex someone into next week' look,” Harry says cautiously as he approaches, leaning against the counter.

“I am,” Louis snaps. “And that someone is Landon. As if he hasn't done enough already, now he's telling potential customers that our drinks suck and they should go to Starbucks instead.”

Harry's eyes narrow. “Louis, please let me handle it. You don’t need to deal with him alone,” he pleads, reaching out to brush an errant strand of Louis' fringe out of his eyes.

Louis huffs, annoyed but secretly grateful. “Thank you, but I'm going to try to figure something out. I just want him gone.”

Harry reaches for Louis' hand and squeezes it. Louis can see that the vampire's mind is running a mile a minute, but Harry doesn't provide any insight into what he's thinking.

Louis lets out a small sigh, and before he can make another sound, Harry is on the employee side of the counter, pulling him into his arms. Louis can hear Mia faintly cooing in the background, but he ignores her and lets Harry hold him for a few minutes. He'll never quite understand how an ice-cold, undead vampire can be the coziest person that Louis has ever cuddled, but he supposes he doesn't need to understand it. 

It's enough that he gets to feel it.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Louis’ fingers shake slightly as he stirs a cauldron of glowing liquid. The faint scent of herbs, sulfur, and magic filled the cramped kitchen of his apartment.

He’s been brewing all afternoon and evening, trying to perfect a complicated potion while juggling deliveries and catching up after Landon’s latest interference. His eyelids are beginning to droop, his arms ache, and every motion feels twice as difficult as it should.

“Louis?”

The familiar voice cut through the haze of exhaustion. Harry’s golden eyes glint in the dim light, and Harry’s presence fills the doorway before Louis can even fully register it. Harry planned to show up after work, which means it must be after 2 AM. He’s been at it for countless hours now.

“I—” Louis begins, gripping the edge of the counter, but his voice falters. His body sags slightly under the weight of his fatigue.

Harry moves closer without hesitation. “You’re overdoing it,” he says gently, leaning in to brush a gentle kiss on Louis’ forehead. “Again.”

“I’m fine,” Louis mutters, his voice weak but stubborn. “I’m almost done.”

Harry’s hands rest lightly on his shoulders, warm and grounding. “Is the potion harmed if you finish it tomorrow?” He asks. 

Louis shakes his head, trying to stand up straighter, though his knees threaten to buckle. 

“It’s not, but…”

“Nope,” Harry says firmly. His fingers brushed over Louis’ wrists, coaxing them down from the cauldron. “Come on, you’re going to bed. The potion will be waiting for you when you wake up.”

Louis tries to protest, but his words are caught in his throat as Harry scoops him up effortlessly. Strong, cool arms wrapped around him, pulling him in close. Louis barely registers the movement as Harry carries him out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and into his bedroom.

“Harry—” Louis starts, but the exhaustion and the undeniable comfort from being held are too much to resist. Louis isn’t sure what he was going to say, but he knows it wasn’t necessary. 

Harry sets him gently on the bed, tucking a blanket around his shoulders. His eyes linger on Louis’ face. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, brushing the hair out of Louis’ face. “Always.”

Louis closes his eyes, letting himself sink into the safety of Harry’s arms. He feels his magic tingling faintly beneath his skin, a quiet hum of greater power that feels more natural to Louis with each passing day.

“You take such good care of me,” Louis whispers.

Louis can hear the smile in Harry’s voice when he answers. “I always will. You know that.”

Louis lets out a shaky laugh, resting his head against Harry’s chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you,” Harry murmurs, lips brushing Louis’ temple, “are mine. Even when you fight me.”

Louis sighs quietly, curling into Harry’s warmth. “I hate that I like that so much.”

Harry chuckles possessively, stroking the back of Louis’ hair. “Believe me, I know.” 

The night wraps around them, and for the first time in days, Louis allows himself to let go completely.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Louis wakes up to the smell of coffee, warm sunlight spilling through the blinds. He blinks, stretches, and finds himself wrapped in blankets with Harry’s arm draped protectively across his waist.

“Morning,” Harry says in his ear, his voice low and groggy.

“Morning,” Louis replies, squinting at the sunlight, still feeling as though he's in a dreamlike haze.

Harry’s lips press a quick kiss to his temple and cheek before he gets up and heads to the kitchen, leaving Louis still cocooned in his bed. Within a few minutes, the hiss of the kettle, the clatter of mugs, and the faint smell of toasted bread fill the apartment. Louis forces himself out of bed as soon as he’s able to muster enough control of his limbs.

“Your coffee sucks,” Louis says after his first sip of Harry's attempt at a brew. 

“Well, we can’t all be coffee shop owners, baby,” Harry says, unbothered by Louis' harsh critique as usual. He’s busy flipping through the morning paper while Louis eats and drinks, and Louis has no idea where he even got that. Louis hasn’t seen someone read a physical newspaper since his grandfather. He narrows his eyes at Harry, wondering if they're a similar age.

Louis forces the rest of the terrible coffee down and eyes the cauldron he was using last night, knowing that he needs to get back to work to finish that potion sooner rather than later. 

He wanders to the counter, picking up the pile of mail that had accumulated over the last few days. His stomach sinks when he opens an envelope from Landon with a letter indicating that his rent will be going up again. Once again, it's accompanied by a thinly veiled threat if Louis doesn’t comply.

Louis scowls, all of last night’s exhaustion suddenly flooding back into his body. He tosses the letter onto the counter with a muttered curse. “Fucking ridiculous.”

Harry appears behind him, finally having put down the newspaper. “Landon again?” He picks up the letter and skims it, the muscles in his jaw clenching immediately.  

“Yes,” Louis replies, rubbing his temples. “God, I’m so fucking tired of this.”

Harry places a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Then let me deal with him. You don’t have to fight this alone.”

Louis looks up, blue eyes meeting golden. “I really don’t want to drag you into it.”

Harry shakes his head firmly. “Too bad, Louis. I’m dragging myself into it.”

Louis’ chest tightens with a mixture of frustration, exhaustion, and relief. “Thank you,” he whispers. He has no idea what Harry will do, but he knows that Harry has much deeper roots and hundreds more personal connections in this town than Louis. If anyone can get Landon to stop harassing Louis and his coffee shop, it’s this vampire right here.

Louis sighs and leans his head against Harry’s chest. “I need more coffee.”

“Want me to make it?” Harry asks, but Louis just laughs and shakes his head.

“No thanks,” he says with a smile, feeling a bit lighter already. “I’d like my next cup to taste a little less like dirt.”

In the quiet morning, with Harry's cool arms around him, the sunlight warming his skin, and the weight of Landon’s threats temporarily forgotten, Louis allows himself to relax completely.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Louis is dozing on the couch at a little past midnight, a thick blanket draped over his body, one arm curled loosely over his stomach. The apartment is dim, lit only by the soft glow of the standing lamp in the corner. The sounds of the people waiting in line outside the bar filter through the window, as it's been cracked open a few inches, but even that is muffled and distant. Louis had tried to settle in with a book, but his eyelids won, drifting closed even as his mind refused to fully rest.

His sleep comes in fits. Every creak of the floorboards, every faint laugh from the street below, makes his heart thud even as he sleeps. He dreams about Harry at Fang, finishing his shift, probably straightening bottles, checking the registers, and making sure there is no sticky alcohol residue left behind on the counters or tables.

Louis’ stomach curls with nausea in his sleep. Why do I feel like something bad is about to happen?

His dreams drift to the last time he’d faced Landon—the hint of claws, the yellowed teeth, the sheer fury rippling off his body. Louis shivers and pulls the blanket tighter around himself, still not able to awaken from his restless sleep. 

A sudden slam of his door makes him bolt upright, heart hammering. Harry lets himself into Louis' apartment all the time, but it's always with his typical vampiric stealth, and Louis doesn't usually wake up until Harry's curled around him in bed.

Whoever just burst through that door is definitely not Harry.

When Louis' eyes adjust, he sees Landon stumbling into the apartment, staggering, his eyes bloodshot and wild, teeth bared slightly. He's holding a key out in front of him, one that Louis recognizes as the spare that the landlord is supposed to hold onto in case Louis gets locked out or there is an emergency. 

“Louis!” the werewolf shouts out as he stumbles in Louis' direction, his voice slurred and angry. “You think you can just—just take everything from me? This is my building. You had no right!”

Louis freezes, panic surging. “L-Landon…” His voice shakes. Stay calm…stay calm…

He watches in horror as Landon's muscular arms and legs shift into the much larger, much furrier limbs of his wolf. It's been a while since Louis saw a wolf fully shifted, and he gulps down nausea when he sees Landon's face contort, his nose lengthening into a snout, his eyes expanding, and his teeth tripling in size. Landon’s claws scrape across the floor as he moves in on Louis, and it's that sound that finally triggers Louis into action.

"I didn't do anything," Louis says, his voice shaking as he backs further away from the unhinged wolf.

"Your fucking bloodsucker boyfriend bought this building right out from under me," Landon slurs. "Made a deal with my dad since they were friends back in the day. And my dad took away the rest of my properties too! All because you couldn't keep your stupid fucking mouth shut, you little whore. This is all your fault."

Louis gulps as he listens to Landon's words. Unfortunately, that all sounds exactly like something Harry would do.

Louis begins moving carefully with his back to the wall, inching along toward the entrance to the hallway. If he can make it to his bedroom, he can lock the door behind him, push his dresser in front of the door, and buy himself enough time to call someone or maybe even escape out the window. It wouldn't be ideal to fall two stories to the ground, but at least it's survivable.

Much better than the alternative, Louis thinks, as he stares at the massive size of Landon's paws.

"Please, Landon," Louis says desperately, still inching along the wall. The werewolf is no longer capable of talking, snarls ripping from his mouth, but Louis hopes that he might at least be capable of listening and understanding his words. 

Landon lunges toward him suddenly, clearly impatient that Louis is keeping his distance by inching around the perimeter of the room. Louis barely manages to dodge his claws, stumbling into the couch. "Fuck," Louis cries out as he catches himself.

His magic flares in response to his fear. Sparks crackle from the tips of his fingers, and a faint wave of energy pushes Landon back, making him growl menacingly. Louis’s chest heaves, his heart slamming against his ribcage. I can do this. I have to.

Landon growls again, louder this time, and starts to advance. Despite the continued crackling at his fingertips, Louis doesn't seem to be able to muster the strength to shove the werewolf back again, and he knows his escape window is shrinking rapidly. 

Just as Landon prepares another strike, the sound of a familiar, sharp voice cuts through the tension.

“Louis!” Harry’s golden eyes glow from the doorway, his body taut and ready. The fear in his voice is palpable, and Louis has never once, not in all the hours they've spent together, heard him sound anything like this.

As soon as the wolf spots Harry, the fight escalates. Harry moves like lightning strikes, dodging and countering with precise, lethal skill. Louis feels his magic surge again, the lights of the room flickering as he watches Harry’s movements. Landon’s swings are messy and vicious, unrelenting, but Harry’s agility keeps him alive. Even as the vampire dodges Landon's blows, his gaze keeps flicking back to Louis, as though he is silently calculating how he can get the witch to safety.

Louis realizes what Harry's going to do just before he does it. He darts in close to Landon unexpectedly and cracks the bones in one of his thick paws, which draws a furious shriek from the wolf. It angers Landon enough that he gives up his focus on Louis entirely, instead following Harry when he leads him down the staircase to the alley below. 

Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him how stupid he's being, Louis follows them, running down the steps until he feels the night air sting his cheeks. He watches in horror as Landon’s claws slash at Harry more successfully now that there are no pieces of living room furniture and other obstacles between them. Harry continues to twist and counter Landon's brute force with his own strength and controlled movements, but it's not going to be enough. 

Landon is too large, too angry, and too drunk. He's willing to fight to the death, and they all know it.

Harry moves in to try and target the werewolf again, but this time, Landon is ready for him. He dodges the blow and grabs Harry's body in his massive teeth, tearing at the vampire while Louis looks on in horror. 

“No!” Louis shouts. The werewolf glances over at him when he hears the noise.

It's one moment of distraction, but that's all Louis needs. 

He summons every bit of magic flowing through his body and pushes it toward the werewolf. His mouth drops open as he watches sparks circle the wolf while carefully dodging the vampire still clamped in Landon's jaws.

With a final surge, Louis slams Landon into the wall of the neighboring building. Despite suffering from a few serious injuries, Harry takes advantage of a momentary slackening of Landon's jaws and jumps away, his eyes immediately settling on Louis.

"Wow, baby," Harry says, slightly out of breath, just as Landon begins to rise to his feet again. The vampire shoves him back into the wall a second time, as Louis' magic still zips through the air, and this time, the werewolf is knocked out cold. The bricks rattle and crack from the force, dust filling the alley. "I guess you have magic for some big stuff after all." 

Louis can't help but let out a breathless laugh as he runs to Harry, who lifts him right up off the ground. The vampire seems unconcerned about his injuries, which are already healing, and only seems to care about taking stock of Louis.

“You did great,” Harry says softly when he finally sets him down. “Couldn’t have done it without you. I’m fine, see?”

Louis’s chest tightens with relief. “I’ll always protect you, too,” he murmurs, leaning up on his tiptoes to kiss Harry.

The vampire offers him a small, intimate smile. “I know,” he says quietly, pulling Louis close.

By the time the werewolf police arrive a few minutes later, restraining Landon and hauling him away, Louis is slumped against Harry, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, his hands still sparking from residual magic. Harry helps him up the stairs to his apartment, but as soon as Louis sees the toppled over furniture and broken decor, he flinches back into Harry's side.

“I don’t think I can sleep here tonight,” he admits quietly, voice trembling.

“You don’t have to,” Harry said softly, taking his hand. “Come with me.”

Harry carries Louis bridal style to his own apartment just a block away. Louis is half-asleep by the time they arrive, the crashout from the night's events finally hitting him, but the apartment smells familiar as soon as he steps inside.

While Harry doesn't exactly provide a grand tour, instead taking Louis to the bedroom and helping him to change into fresh pajamas, brush his teeth, and curl up in his bed, Louis sees enough to get a good idea of what Harry's place is like. It's dark and cozy, not unlike the vampire himself. Velvet curtains block out the streetlights and sunshine as needed, and there are books and candles in every corner and on every shelf. Everything smells just like Harry himself—a soothing mix of vanilla, mint, and the slightest bit of metallic. And of course, Harry’s bed looks impossibly inviting, enormous, and safe.

"I love you, Louis,” Harry whispers when they're curled into the bed together beneath his black silk sheets. Louis is on the brink of sleep, unable to respond even if he wanted to, but he feels the tightness in his chest loosen.

He melts into Harry’s arms, letting the fear of the night slide away as sleep claims him.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

It isn't until many hours later that Louis finally stirs, his eyelids heavy. There is a cold presence beneath him, and when Louis blinks the sleep from his eyes, he realizes that he's asleep on Harry's chest. He glances up toward Harry's face and sees that the vampire is already awake.

“Morning,” Harry says in a low voice, his fingers moving instinctively to fix Louis' fringe for him.

“Morning,” Louis replies, his voice still thick with sleep.  

"How do you feel?" Harry asks, his eyes betraying his genuine curiosity, and Louis smacks his chest.

"How do I feel? Um, how do you feel?" Louis asks. "You're the one who got ripped apart by a werewolf." 

Harry chuckles. "I think that might be a slight exaggeration, baby," he says.

Louis rolls his eyes as his fingers move around Harry's torso, double-checking that all of his injuries have healed. 

"You're ridiculous," Louis says, but he's struggling to keep the smile off his face.

"And you're mine," Harry says with a smug smile. 

"No way," Louis says, falling back into his old habit of sassing Harry every chance he gets. "Never." 

"Or forever," Harry says, and before Louis has a chance to argue, he finds himself pinned to the bed. Harry is a cold, heavy weight on top of him, and Louis feels his skin start to prickle with a sexy mixture of arousal and magic. 

"You're so arrogant," Louis says as Harry starts dragging his fangs down his neck. 

Harry hums and leaves wet kisses where Louis' neck meets his shoulder. "The way your body is rutting against me, begging me to fuck you, suggests that I actually might not be arrogant enough," he replies, and Louis can't help the whimper that escapes.

"Harry," Louis whines, and honestly, Harry's that easy. The vampire makes quick work of both of their clothes, ripping the pajamas that he let Louis borrow into shreds to expose the witch's skin just a few seconds faster. 

Louis squirms as Harry kisses his way down his body, occasionally nibbling with his fangs. It's not enough to break the skin, but it's enough to drive Louis absolutely fucking insane. He gasps in surprise when Harry reaches his lower half and suddenly flips him onto his stomach, and that's when Louis starts to really lose his mind. 

"Harry, Harry," Louis chants like a prayer as the vampire spreads his cheeks apart and begins licking at his exposed hole. 

"Fuck, you taste good," Harry grits out, sounding like he's far closer than he expected to be. "Can I?" 

Louis doesn't even know what Harry is asking for, but he nods furiously, and Harry takes that as the permission it is.

And that's when Louis feels Harry's fangs brush against his left butt cheek, just one second of warning before he bites down.

"Oh my god," Louis cries out, his fingers clutching Harry's sheets as Harry begins to drink from him. The vampire thrusts two fingers into his wet hole simultaneously, and Louis only has to grind into the sheets a handful of times before he comes. 

Harry makes a sound of pleasure when he realizes that Louis has just gotten himself all messy, but he's not quite done drinking yet. He drinks until Louis is just a little woozy from blood loss, and that's when he finally pulls back, closing the wound with his tongue. 

"Your neck might have competition for my favorite drinking spot," Harry says when he's flipped Louis back around and settled between the witch's legs, his hard cock resting right where Louis most wants it. He sounds absolutely wrecked. "Fuck, baby." 

"Please," Louis whimpers, trying to force himself down onto Harry's cock until he feels the head push past the ring of muscle.

"Okay, okay," Harry says, and for the second time in 24 hours, he sounds a little out of breath. It's such a rare occurrence that Louis wants to enjoy it, but as soon as Harry's pushed himself in to the hilt, his brain shuts down completely. 

Harry props himself up on his arms and kisses Louis through every thrust until Louis is a slobbering, whimpering mess below him. Harry helps Louis to another orgasm before he finally lets go himself, spilling deep inside Louis.

It's only after Harry has pulled out and Louis has stopped shivering that they realize Louis accidentally turned the sheets pink.

"I like what you've done with our place, baby," Harry says, and then they both laugh until they can't laugh anymore.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️

Even as a steady rain beats against the roof of Witches Brew, the shop is bustling. Nearly all of the tables are filled with chatting people, witches, vampires, and even a few werewolves (all Landon haters, naturally), each hugging a mug of coffee or tea with some kind of special potion added. Louis, Mia, and their two newest staff members are all working behind the counter, pouring potions and brewing coffee and snacking on pastries as sparks of magic fly above their heads. 

Louis is just about to glance at the clock when he hears the chime above the door sound. When he glances over, a certain handsome vampire is walking in, a smug smile lighting up his face as usual, even though his clothes are soaked through. 

"Ready to go, baby?" Harry asks when he reaches the counter.

Now that business is booming, Louis has reduced his hours working at the shop so he can spend a little more time at home perfecting the potions. It just so happens to be a lovely bonus that he also gets to spend more time with Harry.  

Louis is just about to respond when Mia catches sight of them.

"Oh, Harry, I forgot to submit my rent check! I'll do it when I get home tonight," she says with a worried look in his direction. Mia moved into Louis' apartment just a few weeks ago, not long after Louis moved in with Harry, so that makes the vampire her new landlord.

Luckily for her, Harry couldn't be more different than Landon.

"I really don't give a fuck," Harry says, waving his hand dismissively. "Submit it whenever. I'm stealing your boss away, though." 

Mia just shakes her head and stifles a smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm used to that by now," she says. "See you tomorrow, Louis!" 

Louis waves goodbye to his employees and his favorite regulars, pulling on his coat as he comes out from behind the counter.

"Hi, baby," Harry says when Louis finally steps into his personal space. He leans down and kisses Louis, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip with his fangs, like a small promise of what's to come when they get home.

"Hi there, bloodsucker," Louis says, and he lets out a laugh when Harry rolls his eyes and pulls Louis out into the rain.

Louis gasps at the initial shock of how cold it is, but he adjusts to the temperature shock quickly. When you've been sleeping next to an ice box for the past couple of months, you start to realize that the cold isn't as horrible as you used to think. 

"Don't be mean to me," Harry says, pushing Louis up against a nearby building and leaning in close. 

Louis wraps his arms around Harry's neck, a surge of warmth flowing through him despite the combination of Harry's low body temperature and the freezing rain coming down all around them. "You love when I'm mean to you," Louis says. 

Harry leans down to kiss him, licking into his mouth.

"Mmm, you're right," he says when he finally pulls back. "It's one of my favorite things, but that's probably because I love you." 

"I love you too, bloodsucker," Louis says with a smile, leaning up to brush their lips together once more. "Forever."

Harry huffs out a laugh. "Forever," he agrees.

◾️☾ ⬛ ☽◾️