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“Louis, he’s absolutely perfect for you, love.”
Louis and his mum are sat at his kitchen table - the one they’ve had countless dinners, cups of tea, and conversations at - and he nearly chokes on his sandwich when she abruptly starts going on about “the angel from aisle six.”
He leans back in his chair, the wooden legs creaking at his movement. “Wait, Mum, back up, how do you know this person?”
Jay sighs. “I told you. I met him at the market earlier today while I was shopping in the area. He was a dear, shopping in the produce aisle…” She says it like it’s Louis’ fantasy come to life.
“And that’s what makes him perfect for me? The fact that he was purchasing vegetables?”
“It was fruit, actually.”
“Does that really matter?!”
“Louis.” Her voice is stern. Louis rolls his eyes, anyway. “You’ve been single for nearly a year and I don’t want you to be lonely.”
He frowns. “Mum, I’m not lonely. I’m just alone .”
“How is that any better?”
“Okay.” He holds up his hands in defense. “I’ll play along. Say he is perfect for me, yeah? Why would you think for even a second that I’d want me Mum to set me up with him? As if I’m completely incapable.”
“Don’t say ‘Mum’ like it’s the plaque, honestly , Louis.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute. Louis drums his fingertips on the tabletop, feeling stubborn, and Jay sips at her tea. Finally, he opens his mouth to tell her to move on, that it ain’t happening, lady , when she smirks.
“He thinks you’re really fit, you know.”
“What?!” He slams his hands down on the table. “You showed him my picture?!”
She shrugs. “He was interested! And he said you looked lovely!”
“Well, what is he supposed to fucking say?! You’re my mum . He can’t say, ‘Uh, he’s a total ogre.’ For fuck’s sake.”
“Louis,” she spits out, “language, please.”
“Christ.” He runs his fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “This is really uncomfortable, Mum. How am I supposed to tell this stranger that I don’t want to go out with him?”
She fidgets with her own food in front of her, picking up a sandwich crust and then setting it back down. “You don’t have to go out with him, love, but I really wish you would give it a chance. I know what you like, and I think you would get on with him really well. I wouldn’t be so persistent if I didn’t think this was a brilliant idea. He works with animals at a veterinary clinic, he loves football, and he has a sister or two, I can’t quite remember. But I’m sure he can fill you in over dinner.” Her smile is smug, because she knows she’s wearing him down. Ugh.
Louis groans. “I’m sure this means you’ve already chosen the restaurant, yeah?”
She clasps her hands together. “Does this mean you’ll go?!”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Show me a picture first. I know you have one.”
She winks. “What kind of mum would I be if I didn’t get a picture of him?” She pulls out her phone and scrolls through her photos. “Here he is. Gorgeous, right?”
Louis grimaces. He hates when she’s right. He’s beautiful, honestly, with dark hair and a warm smile. His eyes are lovely, too. And he’s tall, based on this photo.
“Well?” Her eyes are bright and unwavering.
He clenches his fists. “If it means you leave me alone and never try something like this ever again, fine ,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth.
“Ah, yes! Baby, you’ll love him. Okay, here’s his number, I told him you’d call him tonight.”
“What?! You didn’t even know that I’d say yes!”
She winks again, and Louis wants to scream. “Didn’t I know, though?”
Louis calls the boy from the market later that night. He has a nice voice, this boy; it’s deep but comforting. He sounds fond, and Louis likes that.
They agree to meet at a small restaurant on the outskirts of London Friday night for dinner and drinks, a restaurant Louis has never been to but has walked by several times. It’s a bit posh, but Louis likes that this boy is obviously trying to impress him. It’s nice. It’s been a while since he’s been impressed.
Friday night rolls around quickly, and Louis spends about half an hour getting ready for his date with the mystery boy from the market. (It was more like two hours but no one was there and no one needs to know, okay?) He styles his fringe into a messy side-sweep that he’ll pretend is completely natural and God given, yanks on a pair of his tightest black jeans, and slips on a maroon, V-neck sweater that he knows looks good on him.
He makes his way to the restaurant, stopping before he enters to check his hair in the reflection of a car window, and once he’s deemed himself decent enough, he saunters in.
Louis spots his date at the bar with a pint in front of him, recognizing him from his mum’s photo. He weaves in and out of people as he walks through the restaurant, and Man from the Market turns just as Louis reaches him.
“Hey! Louis!” he says, holding his hand out, smile wide. “It’s nice to meet you.” His gaze travels upward and stops at Louis’ forehead. “I was expecting a quiff, though.”
Louis’ offended, to be honest, and he pats down his hair self-consciously. “What would give you that impression?”
He shrugs, and then smirks. “Your mum told me you typically style your hair into a quiff on dates, because you think it makes you look hotter. And taller.” He sips at his drink. “I think you look lovely, either way.”
Louis thinks he could shoot his mother dead and be fine with it. His face is burning up. “If this date goes well, remind me to never let you get near me mum ever again. Ever.”
He laughs and stands up from his seat at the bar. He is tall, like in his picture. Solid shoulders. “Duly noted. Should we take a seat at our table?”
Louis nods and takes the lead, liking the feel of his date’s hand on his back, guiding without being pushy. He’s a gentleman, and Louis appreciates that. Most of the guys he’s met lately have been rude and arrogant.
(Honestly, fuck his mother for finding this guy. She’s going to hold it over his head for the next three million years, approximately.)
Louis orders a pint for himself and they sit in a comfortable silence while they look over the dinner menu. Louis looks up every so often to watch as the man across the table skims the wine list, his brow furrowed, looking all too serious. It’s endearing, actually.
Halfway through dinner, Louis is twirling his pasta around his fork, careful to prevent the sauce from splattering. “Yeah, five sisters and a brother. Me mum just had the babies four years ago.” He smiles. “I should probably stop calling them babies, yeah?”
“Six siblings?!” He almost chokes on his own chicken parmigiana. “I could never imagine that. That makes my own family sound miniscule.”
Louis shrugs. “I dunno, mate, I don’t know any differently. The weirdest adjustment was learning how to have a brother, actually. It’d always been me and my girls, so when Ernest was born, I was kind of shocked, you know?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, really. Just sisters for me, too.”
They carry on their conversation from there, chatting easily enough, finishing their meals and ordering a slice of cheesecake for dessert to share. It’s delicious; dense and thick and creamy. Louis wants to fucking live in this slice of cheesecake. He’s pretty sure he’s moaning.
And as he’s licking his fork clean, it dawns on him: this was the best part of the date. This slice of cheesecake was the highlight of his date night with the beautiful Man from the Market.
Oh. No.
It’s not that anything was wrong with his date. Absolutely not. On the contrary, truly. Every detail was textbook Dream First Date. Light touches across the table, candles, jokes that were actually funny, and Louis even had his chair pulled out for him. On paper, it was the perfect evening.
And that’s why he feels so guilty when he thinks about the lack of spark . This feels more like an intimate business meeting, or a dinner with a close friend, than it does a first date.
Shit.
They split the check - Louis refuses to be pampered that much - and they both say a quiet goodnight to the maître d as they make their exit.
The London air is cool and breezy. It smells like it might rain, but so far, the skies are clear and the stars are bright. Louis leans up against the side of the restaurant's brick wall next to the entrance and looks around. People are still filtering in, and that’s when he realizes it’s only about half nine. He doesn’t feel the need to prolong this night any longer, unfortunately, and he desperately wants the man next to him to make one last attempt to salvage what could have been .
“Louis, tonight I had a great time.”
Come on, mate, say something to give you another shot. Kiss me. Maybe that’s where we vibe. He cringes at himself. On second thought, maybe not. But do something that shows me that we’re compatible.
“Maybe I can chalk this up to nerves, or something, I don’t know…”
Spit it out. Let’s go, love, make me change my mind.
“But I think, with all due respect, that your mum may have been incorrect in her matchmaking skills.”
Oh?
“Oh?”
He nods. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, you’re absolutely lovely, and this might seem totally weird, but… I want to introduce you to my best friend.”
“What the fuck?”
He snorts. “I know, I know. It’s odd. But about halfway through dinner I kept thinking about how perfect you would be for my flatmate.”
“So, that means you don’t like me.”
“No! It’s not that! Shit. Lou, I’m sorry. I thought we were kind of feeling the same way here. You’re phenomenal. Christ…”
The poor guy looks totally humiliated and Louis takes pity. “I’m kidding mate. I wasn’t really sure if we’d have a second date after this either.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.”
He laughs. “It’s not you at all, I swear. It’s just… We’re more like…”
“Friends?”
“ Yes . Thank you.”
They both shuffle uncomfortably for a few minutes. “But seriously, about my flatmate. If that’s too weird for you, forget I said anything. I just really have this gut feeling that you would get on so well together.”
Louis groans. “That’s what me mum said about you and look where that brought us.”
He laughs. “Okay, but your mum and I only had a 5-minute encounter in the market. I just spent the past 90 minutes with you. I think I have a better reading on this situation. Just trust me, yeah?”
“But I’ve spent the past 24 years with my mother. You think she would know what I like.”
“You would think.”
Louis rolls his eyes. “And you’re telling me to trust the random man from the market that I’ve only spent an accumulated hour and a half with?”
He smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Yes.”
Louis swallows. He tries really hard to come up with an answer that isn’t But I don’t wanna do this again . He’s fairly unsuccessful. “Ah, alright, fuck, sure, why not. Honestly, what more do I have to lose?”
“That’s the spirit.”
Louis hands over his phone and watches as a new number is programmed in. He huffs out a breath. It really smells like rain now. “I really did have a good time tonight, though, even considering… this insanity,” he says, waving his hands around.
“I did, too. And if my flatmate doesn’t hear from you within the next two days, I’m going to have him call you myself. No funny business, Louis, I mean it. You’d love him.”
Louis raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And how is he going to feel about me?”
His lips twitch up into a smile. “He’s going to be obsessed with you.”
Louis rolls his eyes, but he’s blushing. “Christ, look what happened the last time I took blind date advice. Look where that left me.”
“Like I said, trust me on this one, okay?”
He hesitates, but nods. “I’ll try.” He leans in for a hug, wrapping his arms around his date’s built frame. When he pulls away, he looks up. “You said his name was Harry, right? This guy I’m calling?”
“Yes. Harry Styles.”
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Well, thank you. And have a good rest of your night, Liam.”
Liam smiles. “You, too, mate.”
Louis is sat on his couch the following evening, beer bottle between his legs, flipping mindlessly through the channels on the telly. His phone is resting on the coffee table in front of him, staring, waiting for him to do something with it.
Damn it, if he isn’t curious about this Harry. He knows absolutely nothing about him - other than the fact that he lives with Liam - and still, his fingers are tapping on his knees, itching to reach out for his phone and call him. He needs to know why Liam was so adamant.
Honestly, though, what could be worse than going out on a date with a guy set up by his own mum?
He rolls his eyes at himself. What’s worse is being rejected by said guy, and then being set up with his flatmate out of pity.
“Nope, absolutely not, no way am I calling him,” Louis says out loud to no one in particular. He looks over at the opposite end of the couch. His cat, Sophie, is sleeping soundly. “It’d be crazy to call him, right, Soph?” Sophie doesn’t budge. Louis frowns. “Why am I trying to take advice from my cat.”
He sips at his beer, making a face at the warm temperature of it, and another rerun of Sex and the City comes on. Louis sighs. “I just saw this one,” he groans. “Carrie, honestly, why would you cheat on Aidan?! Big is no good for you . Christ almighty.” He sucks in his cheeks and rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, I’m gonna need to call this guy immediately. Fuck me.”
He picks up his cell and scrolls through his contacts to find Harry Styles’ number, less embarrassed to be calling at half five on a Saturday night than to be watching Sex and the City - again - and talking to his sleeping cat.
It rings three times before Harry picks up. “‘Lo?”
“Uh, Harry? I’m Louis. Liam told me to give you a call?” He picks at the skin around his thumbnail. “I hope to God he mentioned me. Otherwise, I feel like a giant dickhead. And I’m so sorry for calling.”
Harry laughs, a deep, genuine laugh. “He did tell me about you! He told me to ring you tomorrow night if I hadn’t heard from you, and he seemed fairly certain that I wouldn’t hear from you.”
Louis feels his face heat up, glad that Harry can’t see him. “Yeah, well, pride and all that. Didn’t want ‘two failed blind dates in one week’ to pop up on my record or anything like that.”
He laughs again. “Is that how that works?”
“Pretty sure, yes.”
“Nothing wrong with having pride. Listen, though… I’m actually getting ready to head out out in a bit.”
Louis looks around his flat for a rock to crawl under. No such luck. “Of course, mate, it’s Saturday night. No worries.”
“Do you wanna come? It’s just gonna be me and a couple friends, super casual. It might be less awkward than what Liam proposed. Unless you had something else going on.”
He isn’t about to admit his only plans consisted of Sophie and Sarah Jessica Parker. “What exactly did Liam suggest?”
Harry clears his throat. “Wanted me to take you to Paris, wine and dine you, and then elope. I believe his exact words were, ‘Harry, I swear to fucking God, I just met your soulmate, and this is what you need to go do with him.’”
Louis nearly chokes. “I believe me mum said something similar to that about Liam, and look where we’re at. I’m chatting you up on the phone instead of him.”
He chuckles. “Liam is pretty confident in this, Louis, and he hasn’t steered me wrong yet. Known him for 18 years.”
He hums. “I’ve only known him for 18 hours , so you can see where I struggle.”
Harry snorts. “The faith is just oozing right out of you.”
Louis makes a face. “You just lost major points for the usage of the word ‘oozing.’ Are you kidding? That’s disgusting.”
“So… Does that mean I’ve lost enough points that you won’t come out with me tonight?”
He’s flirting. Louis likes that. “My, Harry, you’re about as persistent as our mate Liam was.”
“Mmm, well, I’ve seen your picture. You can’t blame me, really.”
Louis’ sits up straighter on the couch, flustered and slightly confused. “Where on Earth did Liam get a picture of me?”
“Facebook,” Harry answers simply.
“But I’m not friends with him…” Louis grabs his laptop from atop the coffee table and quickly brings up Liam’s page. “One mutual friend?” he wonders out loud. “Oh my God, he’s friends with my mother.”
Harry bursts out laughing. “Are you surprised by that?”
“Ugh. Honestly, not really.” Louis wipes his palms on his jeans. “Harry, if you’ve gotta get going though, no worries, mate, we can catch up next weekend.”
“No, I’m serious, you should come out with me. I promise, it’ll be fun. If you want, you can bring someone, too, if you think it’ll be awkward or anything like that. Like I said, though, it’s just a casual thing. Have you ever been to Charley’s?”
Louis nods, as if Harry can see him. “Yeah, quite a few times, actually.”
“Awesome, so you know it’s pretty low key.”
Harry’s right. He taps his foot on the ground a few times, contemplating. “You have to send me a picture of yourself first. It’s only fair. And do something in the picture so I know it's you. There won't be any Catfishing going on here.”
He snorts in response. “What if you find me hideously disgusting and then you have to tell me you don’t want to meet up and I’m emotionally scarred forever because the gorgeous boy my flatmate rejected thinks I’m ugly?”
Louis laughs, blushing. “First of all, offensive that you would assume Liam dumped me .” He can’t see Harry, obviously, but he can tell he’s smiling. “And to save you from the hurt, I’ll come up with a good lie. Like, my cat is suddenly very sick, and I have to bring her to the vet.” His phone beeps, then, with a message from Harry, and Louis’ mouth goes dry. It’s a picture of Harry, definitely taken while Louis was talking. He has brunette curls hanging just below his chin, bright green eyes, and a fucking dimple next to his smile. But Louis’ favourite part is what he’s doing with his hands. He’s holding up a piece of paper with the words I’m glad you dumped Liam scrawled on it hastily in blue ink.
Louis clears his throat. “Uh, I’m glad I dumped Liam, too. And Sophie has never felt better.”
“Wait, who’s Sophie?”
“My cat. No vet for her. I’ll meet you at Charley’s in an hour?”
Louis can nearly hear Harry’s smirk. “See you then.”
He takes Harry up on his offer of bringing someone to the bar with him. He calls up his friend Stan, someone he’s known since childhood, and he immediately relaxes knowing he’ll be in his presence.
He takes the time to put together a simple outfit - if that includes the black skinny jeans from his date with Liam from the night before, no one needs to know that - and styles his hair into a quiff. His white t-shirt hangs loosely ( Keeping it casual , he thinks), and slips on a pair of black Vans as he makes it way out the door.
Stan is waiting for him outside the entrance of Charley’s. “Second night in a row with this guy?” he asks in lieu of his usual greeting. “Must be getting on really well.”
Louis shakes his head. “His flatmate.”
“I haven’t had a date in six months and you have two in 24 hours. With multiple men.”
He shoves his phone into his back pocket. “Starting to make me sound a bit sleazy, there, Stanley.”
Stan nudges him with his shoulder. “Do whatever makes you happy. And if that includes a lot of dick, then so be it.”
“Jealousy isn’t very becoming of you.”
He snorts. “Jealousy, sure.”
They make their way into the bar together. The live band is just starting, playing a cover of an old Weezer song, and though it’s not even seven o’clock yet, the room is already fairly packed. The bar, itself, is busy, and Louis has to squeeze in through several patrons to make his way up to the bartender. He’s able to get her attention relatively quickly and orders two pints, one for him and one for Stan.
He steps off to the side, Stan following, and he tries to look nonchalant - truly, he does - but he can’t rip his gaze away from the door.
“Mate, if you stare at the entrance any harder, it might actually burst into flames,” Stan says, quirking up an eyebrow.
“Okay, you can leave now,” Louis says with an eye roll.
It takes another 15 minutes before Louis spots Harry walk through the door. He’s taller than Louis thought he would be, and even more gorgeous in person. Harry meets his gaze just after he takes a few more steps in through the crowd, and the dimple emerges. Louis can’t believe how sweaty his palms are.
He approaches Louis and Stan, smiling the whole way, and when he reaches them, he immediately pulls Louis in for a hug. “Nice to meet you,” he says, squishing his face against the side of Louis’.
Louis chokes back a laugh. “Little friendly for a blind date, yeah? What if I wasn’t really me? And I was just someone who happened to have extremely similar characteristics?”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who has a face like this.”
“A face so ugly, only a mother could love it?” Stan supplies.
Louis shakes his head. “Harry, this is my friend Stan, whom I stupidly brought along, thinking he would be fun to have here, for whatever reason.”
Harry laughs. “Nice to meet you, mate.”
“Likewise.”
“Anyway,” Harry says, gesturing to the group of people sitting in a booth behind him, “wanna come hang with the rest of us? Most of them are okay. One is terrible.”
Louis smiles. “There’s always one. Let’s go.”
They make their way over, dragging over chairs to sit on, and Harry gives a quick introduction. “This is Ty, Danny, Ryan, Sam, Emily, and Maggie,” he says, making his way around the table. They all nod politely, greeting Louis and Stan, and go back to their conversations. “And this ,” Harry says, putting his hand on the shoulder of someone with the brightest and blondest hair Louis has ever seen, “is Niall. He’s the one terrible one.”
Niall laughs. “Whatever he’s said isn’t true. Actually, it might be. Good to meet you, regardless.”
Louis likes him. His smile is contagious, his laugh obscene, and he thinks that if Harry wasn’t here with his hand resting on Louis’ knee, he would be having a laugh with Niall.
Hell, he might do that anyway.
The hours go by quickly and the drinks go even quicker. Louis is teetering between tipsy and drunk by the time 11 o’clock rolls around.
He stands up to make his way to the bar for another round and Harry stands up with him.
“Want me to come with you?” he asks.
Louis looks at Stan. Stan waves him away. “Go on, I’m good here,” he says, engrossed in an animated story Niall is telling.
There are two barstools open and Harry and Louis quickly claim them. Louis is trying not to fall off of his when it spins as Harry orders two shots of tequila.
“Please don’t get me drunk,” Louis says, squinting. “‘m trying not to make an ass of myself in front of a cute boy.”
Harry smirks. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing. Bottoms up, Lou.”
They drink at the same time. It burns going down his throat; Louis likes the feel of it. “Should we go back to the group?” he asks.
Harry’s hand finds its way back to Louis’ knee. “We could stay here.”
“We could,” he agrees.
And they do.
Louis isn’t sure how much time passes from that point on. He could care less, really. He’s too caught up in Harry’s curls and smile and eyes and the way he keeps lacing their fingers together on Louis’ lap.
Louis tells him about his boring job as a computer software salesman, his six siblings, his mum who means well, Stan and Zayn, and football. Harry, in turn, talks about his equally dull job as an accountant, his only sister, his mum and dad, Liam and Niall, and American football. Louis nearly scoffs when he starts going on about the Superbowl, but then his face lights up when he talks about the Packers, and he’s so unbelievably cute about it, that Louis lets it slide.
As Harry tells him a story about Niall from university, Louis can’t help but think how easy this is. It feels so strangely natural, like they’ve been doing this for years, but somehow, at the same time, there’s this spark inside of him that won’t let up. It’s intense and burning and he’s so far in over his head, he feels like he could choke.
Eventually, he hops off his barstool, gripping at Harry’s thighs to balance himself, steady himself. Harry puts his feet down on the ground like he’s about to stand, too, but Louis steps in between Harry’s legs, and Harry freezes. Louis keeps his hands on Harry’s thighs and he squeezes tightly, and Harry looks up to meet his stare.
“‘m having a good time,” Louis says, his voice just above a whisper so Harry can hear but no one else around them can.
Harry nods. “Me, too.”
“Like, a really good time,” he admits.
Harry smiles. “Feeling is mutual.” He takes a deep breath. “Liam was right. Right?”
Louis smiles back. “Yes, Liam was right,” he confirms.
Harry grips Louis by the waist and pulls him in slowly, their faces so close, Louis can feel his breath against his face. And when Harry’s eyes close, his eyelashes brushing his cheekbones, Louis is pretty sure he has never seen anyone so beautiful.
They kiss slowly, and probably a little too intimately for the bar, but Louis couldn’t care less. He’s living for the way Harry’s breath hitches every time he rubs his hands up and down along his thighs, loves how Harry cups his jaw in his hands, loves the way he tastes of beer, tequila, and mint.
It goes on for a while, and when Louis pulls back, he knows his cheeks are pink and his lips are swollen, just like Harry’s. Harry is staring at him closely, his brows knit together.
“What?” Louis asks quietly, self conscious.
“You’re just… Really bloody gorgeous,” he says with a shrug, running his hand through his hair.
“Shut up,” he says. Keep going , he means.
They kiss again, just as slowly as before, and when they pull apart again, Louis is dizzy, definitely not in need of another drink, but he orders one, anyway.
Louis balances the pints in his hands as they walk back to their booth, Harry’s hand guiding him, just like Liam had the night before. He holds back a laugh and he’s about to tell Harry the absurdity of it when he sees none other than Liam himself sitting in his chair.
“Liam!” Harry says. “When did you get off work?”
Liam turns around and his face lights up when he sees Louis. “About an hour ago. Hi, Lou,” he says, giving a look that says, I fucking told you, didn’t I?
Louis rolls his eyes. “Hi, Liam, yes, you were right.”
Liam pumps his fist in the air. “ Yes !” Then, he looks up at the top of Louis’ head. “Nice quiff, by the way. At least you styled it like that for one of your dates.”
Louis promptly shoves Liam directly out of the chair and onto the ground.
Louis and Harry spend the next week completely enamored in each other, seeing each other on Tuesday and Wednesday night, and speaking on the phone every night in between. Louis is positively in
like
with Harry, and he’s thrilled to know it’s not one-sided.
Harry calls Louis on Friday morning. “Don’t make plans tonight. We’re going to the cinema.”
Louis is a bit disappointed. He’s still getting to know Harry; he wanted to go somewhere they could talk, not somewhere they have to be silent for two hours. But, he goes with it, anyway. “Sure. Pick me up?”
“Will do.”
Louis is confused when they don’t take the usual road to get to the cinema. “Harry, it’s much quicker if we head that way,” he says, pointing over his shoulder.
“Not to this cinema, it isn’t,” he says with a knowing grin.
“Okay…”
“I promise. It’ll all be good.”
Fifteen minutes later, they pull up to a giant field, There are several parked cars on the lawn, and Louis is even more perplexed. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
Harry rolls down his window, presses down on the brake, and stops just before he gets to a ticket booth. Where did that come from? Louis wonders.
“Two for Screen B,” he says to the man in the booth. He hands over the adequate money and drives off slowly.
Louis looks around, and suddenly, it dawns on him. “Wait, Harry, are we at a drive-in ?!”
Harry nods, his eyes gleaming.
“I didn’t even know these actually existed here!”
“Good surprise then?”
“ Awesome surprise.”
Harry blushes. “Okay, good. I wanted to go somewhere that we could talk ‘cause, you know, I like talking to you. I like your terrible stories.” Louis makes a face and Harry keeps going. “But we’ve already had dinner out together twice this week so I thought this would be a nice change, yeah? We can totally talk through the whole movie if we want to. We just tune the radio to the station that’s printed on the tickets so we can hear the movie from inside the car, and if we roll up my windows, no one can hear us .”
Louis nods. “This is brilliant , H. Nice planning.”
“Thanks, babe.”
They make themselves comfortable in the front seat and Louis is pleasantly surprised to find that Harry has thought of just about everything. He reaches into the backseat and pulls out a blanket, popcorn, and two drinks, all of which Louis somehow missed when he climbed into the car earlier.
“You’re really… This is really sweet,” Louis murmurs. He reaches under the blanket and over the center console to find Harry’s hand. He laces their fingers together and Harry squeezes back.
“I’m trying,” Harry confesses.
“Well, it’s working.” Harry fiddles with the radio dial with his free hand, searching for the right radio station. After a moment, the sound comes in clear, and Louis bursts out laughing when he realizes what they’re watching. “Harry, our feature presentation is Jaws ?!”
“This cinema only plays old films. Classics.”
Louis snorts. “Alright, let’s watch a pretend shark eat some people using mediocre special effects. Classic .”
“That’s the spirit.”
They snack on the popcorn quietly, actually watching the film, but about 20 minutes in, Louis looks over at Harry. “Hey, H?”
“Mhmm.”
“Wanna sit in the back?”
He doesn’t question it. “Yeah.”
Louis climbs back first, squeezing through the tiny space of the car, and Harry grips his bum through his jeans. “Excuse me, that’s mine,” Louis says before he sits down on the middle seat.
Harry shrugs and climbs in back, too. “It’s perfect and it was in my face. What’s a boy to do?”
Louis laughs. “You’re an idiot. Gimme the blanket.”
Harry reaches up front and grabs it from the front seat, draping it over them. Louis moves closer and Harry hugs him tighter.
They sit like that for a while, limbs wrapped around each other, and Louis is having a hard time on concentrating on anything about the way Harry’s hands feel on his thigh. He tries to distract himself with the poor woman drowning on screen, but no such luck.
“Harry, you said we can talk in here, yeah? No one can hear us?”
“Right.”
“Ever been involved in a shark attack?”
Harry pretends to think about it. “Not sure. I don’t think so.”
“Ever been stung by a jellyfish?”
“Nope. My cousin has, though.”
“Hmm. Ever gone hunting?”
“Once, with my dad. I hated it.”
“I went once, too. Didn’t care for it meself, either.” He scratches at a mosquito bite on the back of his calf. “Ever ridden a horse?”
“A couple of times.”
“Ever shoplifted?”
“On purpose? No. On accident, yes.”
Louis laughs. “What was it?”
“Fucking parmesan cheese. I didn’t see it at the bottom of the trolley.”
“Sure, sure.”
“I swear!”
“Right.” He pauses, thinking. “Ever kissed a teacher?”
He snorts. “No.”
“Ever broken a bone?”
“Yes, actually. Broke my collarbone about eight years ago. Had to wear a God awful cast for six weeks. Bloody uncomfortable.” He keeps moving his hand up and down Louis’ thigh, and he can’t take it anymore.
“Ever been sucked off in the back of a car at a drive-in cinema?”
Harry’s head whips around to look at Louis. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
He coughs. “I can’t say that I have, actually.”
“Do you wanna change that answer?”
Harry looks around frantically. “Fuck, I want that answer to be yes, but there are cars all around us.”
“Windows are up and you can throw a blanket over my head. Just be quiet, yeah?”
Harry makes a strangled noise when Louis starts palming him through his jeans. “I think that’s easier said than done, Lou.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he whispers. He unbuttons Harry’s jeans and looks up at Harry, silently asking for help to take them off. Harry obliges immediately, sitting naked from the waist down on his seat. He’s still almost completely soft when Louis takes him in his mouth, but that changes very quickly, his cock filling up from the heat and suction of Louis’ mouth. Louis loves how it feels; it makes him feel like he’s in charge. It spurs him on to take him as deep as he can, staying there.
“Louis, oh my God, your mouth ,” Harry whimpers out. His hands are clutched in Louis’ hair, his hips are moving slightly into the warmth of Louis’ mouth. Louis loves it. He responds by moaning lightly around Harry’s cock, sending vibrations all around it, and the noise Harry makes Louis go from semi-interested to instantly hard in a matter of seconds.
He works his tongue around the head, up and down, using his hand for whatever he can’t fit in his mouth, his movements steady and rhythmic, firm and quick. He’s been going at it for a while; his jaw is getting sore and his own body tense with the need for friction. But the reactions from Harry are undeniably worth it. He can’t stop cursing under his breath, can’t stop his hips from twitching whenever Louis runs his tongue just under the head, can’t stop praising him.
“You feel so good, I can’t even believe how good you are at this,” he murmurs out, his breathing getting choppier and more uneven by the second. “You’re so gorgeous, so bloody sexy, I…”
Louis takes him all the way down, his own breathing erratic, and he moans around him.
“Lou, you have to pull up, I’m so close…” He trails off, chest heaving, and Louis pulls off, jerking him quickly.
“You’re gonna come?”
“ Yes ,” he hisses out.
“Tell me when,” Louis says, licking his lips.
Harry grips Louis by the shoulder and digs his nails in. “Oh God, now ,” he spits out, and Louis ducks down immediately, sinking all the way to the base again, his nose brushing Harry’s stomach. He can feel Harry’s come before he can taste it, and he knows he caught Harry off guard by the way he’s trembling, his hands all over Louis’ body.
Louis sits up, panting. “You’re really hot,” he says dumbly, unable to think of anything else to say.
“You didn’t have to do that ,” Harry says, equally as stupidly.
“Yeah. I wanted to, though.”
Harry’s eyes are wide. “Know what I wanna do?”
Louis arches his back, trying to get the crick out of it. “What’s that?”
“Get you off. Immediately.”
Louis smiles, blushing. “Thank god.”
Harry unbuttons Louis’ jeans. “Do you want my mouth?”
He groans. “Yes. I do. But, not right now. I want your hands.”
Harry looks confused as he pulls Louis’ jeans down all the way, his cock fully hard and seeking any type of stimulation. “My hands?”
Louis hips thrust forward into nothing. “Yes, your hands. Love your hands. Always feel so good on me. On my thighs, in my hair. Don’t care. Just want your hands.”
That answer seems to work for Harry. He grips Louis’ cock and begins jerking, twisting his hand to see what Louis likes, and he’s a quick study. He sucks on the jut of Louis’ jaw and picks up the speed of his hand.
Louis thrusts up into it, his eyes closed, knowing he’s embarrassingly close. “Harry, almost there.”
“Good. Come for me. Bet you’re so gorgeous when you do. Let’s see it. Come on, baby.”
Louis groans and his legs are shaking before he releases. He opens his eyes as he comes, covering Harry’s hand with it, and the look Harry gives him is downright sinful.
“Knew you’d look hot,” he mumbles into the crook of Louis’ neck.
Louis closes his eyes again. “Can’t believe I came in time to the theme song of Jaws ,” he says, still breathless.
Harry bursts out laughing. “Even better.”
Jaws II
comes on immediately after the first one ends, and they stay, wrapped up within each other, talking about nothing and everything for the entire duration of the film.
It’s fun, it’s light, it’s easy, and God, Louis is out of his mind, he’s so happy to be beside his boy.
About eight weeks into this, Louis decides it’s time.
“Harry, you have to meet my mum.”
Harry looks up from his bowl of cereal. “Okay.”
“She still thinks you’re Liam.”
He stands up and puts the bowl in the sink, rinsing it off. “Now, why would she think that?”
“Because I told her I had a boyfriend and she was so happy to rub it in my face that she was the one who found him for me. And then I realized she still thought I was seeing Liam, and I want to see the look on her face when I bring you to the house and say, ‘Mum, this is my boyfriend. Yes, Liam has changed quite a bit, hasn’t he?’”
Harry snorts. “You’re a prick. But that’s kinda funny. I’m in.”
Louis raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, really? I thought I would have to bribe you some more. I didn’t expect mama’s boy Harry Styles to be so eager to play a joke on my poor, unsuspecting mother.”
“Your poor, unsuspecting mother thinks you’re a match made in heaven with Liam Payne, and I want her to realize what a terrible mistake it is. And she will. Because I’m bringing dessert and she’s going to love me.”
“Oh, so you’re not just a mama’s boy. You’re also a major kiss ass.”
Harry holds up the hose from the sink, water squirting out, soaking the front of Louis’ shirt entirely. “Damn straight I am.”
“ And a pain in the ass,” Louis adds, walking over to Harry, ringing his shirt out over his bare feet.
Harry laughs. “ Your pain in the ass.”
Louis groans and makes a face. “I take it back. I miss Liam.”
He smirks. “I bet you do.”
Jay is
thrilled
when Louis asks if he can bring over his boyfriend for dinner. She tells them to pack (“Louis, don’t drive Liam all the way out here and then leave after only a few hours. Spend the night. It’s much easier that way.”) and Louis is positively giddy to get on the road.
“You’re evil,” Harry says while he throws his small duffel bag into the backseat.
“And you are my accomplice.”
It takes them over three hours to make the trip, and they arrive just before dinner is ready, Louis carrying their bags, Harry carrying a three-layer chocolate cake. He opens the front door and hears his mum in the kitchen, asking his siblings to set the table.
“Mum we’re here,” he calls out, trying desperately to hide his grin.
“I’m coming!” Jay yells back, excitement written all over her voice.
His smirk is clearly not hidden very well because Harry nudges him. “You are truly a horrible person,” he mumbles under his breath.
Louis nudges him back twice as hard. “And you love it.”
“God only knows why.”
Jay comes around the corner, smile plastered to her face, and when she sees Harry, her face falls. “Louis, love, who is this?”
“Mum, this is my boyfriend,” he says, already unable to stop his uncontrollable laughter.
“Is this a joke?” she asks.
Harry steps forward, his hand out. “Hi, Jay. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Harry. I’ve heard so many great things about you and your family.”
She tentatively holds out her hands and shakes. “Um, you, too… Louis?”
Louis is positively shaking . “Mum?”
“Where is Liam?”
“Probably in his flat back in London. Or at the clinic.”
“Louis Tomlinson, don’t be a smartass.”
He bites at his bottom lip to stop from laughing. “Okay, Mum, look, I went out with Liam and we decided we weren’t right for each other after about 20 minutes, and Liam knew someone who would be a better fit for me than he was. And he was right. This is Harry Styles.”
“But…” She looks confused, a little hurt, mostly annoyed. Louis can work with annoyed. “You’ve been talking about Liam for two months!”
“ I never said Liam, Mum. You did. I always said ‘boyfriend.’”
She throws up her hands. “Technicality! Why did you never correct me?!”
He smiles. “Because I wanted to see this in person.”
Jay crosses her arms. “Honestly, Louis, you are the biggest brat I’ve ever known.”
“Aw, Mummy, thank you.”
She ignores his comment and turns to Harry. “Now that my initial shock has worn off, I can focus on you. You seem lovely, dear. But I must say, I am judging a bit.”
Harry frowns. “And why is that?”
“Because you’re dating a no-good liar.”
Louis bursts out laughing. “Mum, relax.”
Harry fights a smile. “I see the dramatics run in the family,” he says under his breath, just loud enough for Louis to hear.
Jay leads Harry into the kitchen, Louis trailing behind, and she finally notices the cake in Harry’s hands. She ooh’s and ahh’s over it for far too long, scolding Harry for taking the time to make it.
“It honestly wasn’t any trouble,” Harry says, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I enjoyed making it.”
“I was so right about the kiss ass thing,” Louis murmurs to Harry as he takes a seat across from him, and Harry kicks him from under the table.
“I’m trying to get her to like
one
of us,” he says back through gritted teeth.
As it turns out, getting Jay to like Harry is not an issue whatsoever. In fact, she falls in love with him after a mere ten minutes of meeting. Louis thinks if he rolls his eyes one more time, they’re going to get stuck permanently looking upward.
But as much as he teases Harry for turning the charm on, he’s grateful. His entire family loves him, just like Louis knew they would. It’s a relief to know they’re smitten, like Louis is. He helps Jay wash and put away the dishes and afterward, he sits on the floor with Louis’ youngest twin siblings, building towers and putting together puzzles until it’s time for bed. He piggybacks Doris to her room and reads her a book in bed; Louis can hear him giving the characters different voices from the hallway.
His mind is on repeat: Thank God they love him, because he’s not going anywhere .
After another cup of tea amongst Louis, Harry, and Jay herself, Jay announces she’s tired and she’s going to head upstairs for bed. She bends down and kisses Harry on the cheek.
“Good night, love. Thank you for coming and making my boy so happy.”
“Ugh, mother,” Louis says, embarrassed.
“And you ,” she says, pointing to Louis, “can come with me.”
He closes his eyes briefly before pushing his chair out and standing up. Harry mouths good luck and Louis mouths back I’m fucked .
He follows her into her bedroom. She’s sitting on the edge of her bed and she pats the spot next to her. Louis sits.
“Louis…”
“Mum, look, I’m sorry I was such a dick. Harry’s just… He’s different from anyone I’ve ever dated--”
“Louis.”
“--and I wanted you to see that in person before you made any judgments over the phone about why I dropped Liam so easily--
“Louis.”
“--but the best part is, Liam and I are good friends now, if that’s something that’s really important to you. But what’s important to me is Harry and--
“ Louis .”
Louis stops talking. “What?”
“Love, Harry is incredible .”
He looks down at his lap. “I think so, too.”
“Apology accepted.”
He nods. “And thank you for dinner, too.”
“Of course.” She wraps an arm around him and he leans into it. They stay there for a moment before she says, “And you’re welcome, by the way, for introducing you to Harry.”
Louis pulls back. “Pardon?”
“Well, you wouldn’t have known him without me finding Liam, now would you? Off you go, good night, Lou.”
He stands up, dumbfounded, knowing that he somehow just lost.
But when he closes her bedroom door behind him, he smiles to himself when he thinks about Harry waiting for him upstairs, and he realizes that losing feels a whole lot like winning.
It’s dark in Louis’ childhood bedroom, and Harry’s fingers are inside of him, relentless. He told Harry he wanted him to fuck him and that he could keep quiet, but now, he’s not so sure.
Harry slides his fingers out and Louis climbs on top of Harry, straddling him, and sinks down, breathless.
“Louis,” Harry whispers. “How do you always feel like this?”
“Feel like what?” he manages to groan out, quietly, hips moving aimlessly.
“Like the best thing I’ve ever fucking felt.”
Louis can’t stifle his moan at that and he starts grinding in earnest, finding the spot inside of him that makes his legs feel like jelly. Harry’s cock grazes it a moment later, and Louis jerks forward, his own cock blurting precome at the tip.
They move together slowly but Harry’s movements are harsh and punching. Louis’ whole body is quivering with the force of it and Harry’s hands are trembling as he reaches for Louis’ cock.
“Are you gonna come?” he asks, his voice with a bit of desperation to it.
Louis whines. He means to say yes, but he can’t get the words out.
“Me, too. Come on, baby, ‘m so close. Christ, you’re so gorgeous. Can’t believe I get to have you.”
Louis feels his orgasm building low in his belly, spreading like wildfire, and he lets go when Harry’s thumb brushes over the head of his cock, shooting out all around his hand. Harry comes moments later, hips erratic, finally stilling when Louis put his hands on Harry’s face, whispering his own words to him.
The sky isn’t cloudy for once, and the moon is shining in brightly through the windows. Harry drags his fingers up and down Louis’ spine, making him shiver, making him feel safe. He replays the night’s events over in his head, thinking about the past eight weeks, too. His mind won’t stop turning.
I think I could love you .
Harry breathes in deeply into Louis’ hair. “Your family is beautiful, Lou. You’re very lucky.” He traces his thumb across Louis’ cheekbone. “I feel lucky, too.”
I think I already do love you.
He wraps his naked arms around Louis, pulling him in close. “This is nice,” he continues, voice a whisper, placing a kiss to Louis’ shoulder. “It’s… Nice isn’t an adequate word. This .” He stops and kisses Louis again, this time on the jaw. “This is my favourite thing. All of this. Everything.”
It hardly makes sense at all, really, but Louis agrees wholeheartedly.
And before he falls asleep, he makes a mental note to properly thank his mother. Because she’s right; she’s won. Without her, he wouldn’t have this .