Chapter Text
“We’re never going to get into that place,” Harry was sprawled across his bed, trying for the millionth time (and failing) to convince his flatmates that they should stay in instead of going to the newest (and supposedly hottest) clubs in London.
“Stop being such a cunt and get dressed,” Niall was already three pints in, his cheeks rosy and his voice loud. “Wear one of those stupid see through tops you’re always wearing around. I’m sure you’ll pull some nice-looking bloke.”
Harry rolled his eyes at his best friend. He knew he was being difficult, he knew he was being a Debbie downer, but that didn’t make him want to change his mind. He wanted to stay in and eat a whole container of chocolate ice cream and watch The Notebook. He wanted to watch Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams fall in love and binge on calories until he forgot that stupid asshole’s name. He wanted to forget that he’d just been dumped twenty-four hours ago by the guy he thought he’d been falling in love with. He wanted all of these things, which meant that the very last thing he wanted was to go out to some stupid dance club and get drunk.
“You need to forget about Oliver,” Liam sank down on the bed beside Harry, his arm wrapping around him in his typical comforting way. “You need to go out and have some fun, mate. He’s not even worth a second thought.”
“But I really liked him Li,” Harry couldn’t help but cringe at the way his voice came out in a whine. His friends were right. He needed to stop being such a walking cliché. He needed to get his ass off his bed, go out and drown his sorrows and dance until he forgot Oliver’s name. Liam and Niall were right – the fleeting three months he had spent calling Oliver (Oliver who?) his boyfriend wasn’t nearly enough to allow himself to sink into some sort of post-breakup depression. It didn’t matter if Oliver had the most perfect blue eyes that made Harry’s heart melt every time he looked into them. He’d find a new set of blue eyes. He’d find someone else to melt his heart.
He was always falling way too easily anyways, at least that’s what Liam always told him.
“Fine,” he finally caved, moving his long legs off the bed and towards his closet. He pulled out his favourite pair of skin tight, black skinny jeans and a sheer black shirt that was patterned with sparse roses. Niall was right, he could definitely pull some hottie who could help him forget Oliver’s name. Maybe that was exactly what he needed. A little bit of rebound sex never hurt anyone, or so he’d heard.
* * *
“Don’t get too wild tonight,” Eleanor had basically given Louis the same lecture a million times since the second he’d woken up that morning. She’d gone on and on (and on) about how he needed to behave himself, and then even more on and on about how there were to be absolutely no strippers involved in his bachelor party. He could basically recite her entire lecture word for word if he wanted to. You don’t need to get so drunk that you’re sick tomorrow. My parents are coming over for dinner and I don’t want them to think you’re some sort of alcoholic. You don’t need strippers at a bachelor party, Louis. You shouldn’t need to see another girl’s naked body when you’re marrying me in a week. Blah, blah blah. She certainly knew how to take all the fun out of his last night out as a single man. She knew how to take the fun out of everything.
“Don’t worry, El, we’ll take good care of your boy, yeah?” Zayn’s voice called out from where he was waiting at the front door. He’d tried to free Louis from Eleanor’s lecture a million times already, but the woman just wouldn’t let him go.
“I love you,” Eleanor cooed as she wrapped her arms around Louis’ neck. He tried his best not to cringe, not to back away. He would have been drunk by now if it wasn’t for his fiancé’s obsession with pretending to be his mother. “Don’t let too many girls fall all over you, and text me so I know you’re okay.”
“Yes, mother,” he said it with a smile on his face, but that didn’t stop Eleanor from rolling her eyes and kissing his mouth one last time before finally letting him go.
The door to the limo was barely even closed before Louis was letting out a sigh of relief and reaching for one of the bottles of champagne. He needed to be drunk – he needed to be so drunk that he forgot just why he was out celebrating. He needed to forget about the fact that he was getting married in only a week, and he definitely needed to forget that he wasn’t even entirely sure if marrying Eleanor was what he wanted for his life. He just needed to forget.
“I’m honestly surprised she even let you out,” Zayn’s voice brought Louis back to reality. “I thought she was going to like wrap herself around your leg and insist you stay home.”
Louis laughed lightly as he swallowed the contents of his glass in one mouthful and held his glass out for Zayn to fill it once more. “For the love of god, can we please not talk about her for the rest of the night?”
Zayn flung an arm around Louis’ shoulders in a sign of comfort. Zayn was the only person who really knew how Louis felt about his upcoming nuptials, and he was trying his best at playing the supportive best friend role. “You got it, mate. Let’s go pick up the other guys and get so fucking drunk that all of the papers have you tossing your cookies on their front covers tomorrow morning.”
Oh, right. For a minute, Louis had almost felt normal – he’d almost forgotten that he was this famous singer/songwriter that seemed to be the center of all tabloid gossip these days. He’d almost forgotten that OK! Magazine was covering the details of his wedding, that a matter of only a few days after he said “I do”, that the pictures of his wedding would be showcased in an exclusive edition for the rest of the world to see. Of course, it hadn’t been his idea. Eleanor had insisted that all of Louis’ fans would want to feel as though they’d been at the wedding themselves, and that he owed it to them to release the intimate details of his life. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if Eleanor was simply in it for the fame and money or if she really, truly did love him. They’d been together for a long time, it felt like forever, and she’d been there for it all – before he’d ever even been discovered. But it had been eight years, and Louis was twenty-six and famous, but he didn’t know if he was entirely happy.
But who was really that happy, anyways?
* * *
Harry had been right of course, and the bouncer at the “newest and hottest” club in London had decided that Harry, Liam and Niall did indeed not belong inside of the establishment.
“We’re at capacity, lads. Try Rebel across the street,” Muscle Man declared, his arms crossed in front of his chest, veins bulging from too much steroid use.
Niall gasped as Muscle Man let a group of rowdy, and really fucking drunk, girls through the entrance. He hadn’t even bothered to check their IDs. “C’mon, mate, you’re obviously not at capacity.”
“We’re at capacity,” Muscle Man repeated, not even bothering to look at them as he let in another group of girls. “We make a special exception for the ladies, of course.”
“This one here is practically a lady himself,” Liam was pushing Harry forward, which was exactly not what Harry wanted. “He just got dumped from this fucking arsehole and he needs to dance his sorrows away. Please?”
Muscle Man did a quick once over of Harry, his chocolate curls resting on his shoulders and his sheer button-up leaving his torso of tattoos on full display. Harry didn’t know what to do, he absolutely hated the club scene 99.9% of the time, but he needed to party. He needed to find some random guy to make him forget about Oliver. He quickly scanned the bouncer. If Harry’s gaydar was functioning properly tonight, then he’d bet the entire balance of his bank account (it should be known that there was only 40 pounds left) that Muscle Man had at least dabbled with the same sex at some point in his life. Before he knew it, Harry was turning his lips up into a smile that he knew would make his dimples as pronounced as ever.
“I really like your tattoo,” he kept his eyes locked with Muscle Man’s, but let his finger trace over the rather generic (and ugly) armband that encircled his unnaturally large bicep. This guy was basically the very opposite of Harry’s type. “I’m a big fan of guys with ink.”
Harry was thankful that Niall was able to hold back his snicker when Muscle Man’s face turned a deep shade of pink at his advances. He didn’t get quite so lucky when Niall yelped with excitement when the bouncer finally stepped aside and let them through the door of the club, yelling at the woman at the next door that they were friends of his and didn’t need to pay cover.
“Dude, I think that guy would have gotten on his knees right there for ya,” Niall slapped Harry on the back as they made their way into the club, the music already pounding into Harry’s eardrums. “I bet you could score like at least five blowjobs tonight if you tried hard enough.”
“Don’t be so gross, Niall,” Liam chimed in. “Harry just needs to find one, suitable guy to meet his rebounding needs. Right, Haz?”
Harry nodded in agreement as he scanned the club. It was big, it was loud, and it was full of potential. “I need a drink.”
“I’ll go get us a round of the strongest stuff they’ve got,” Niall offered. “You two are on guy patrol. Uh, also girl patrol, because I need to find me a lady.”
Harry put a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “I thought tonight was going to be all about me!”
“Don’t worry cupcake, I won’t pull until we’ve found you a nice guy who will make you see stars. Or rainbows, I guess,” Niall joked before he ran off towards the bar.
Just as Niall disappeared in the crowd, there was a commotion at the entrance of the club that drew Harry and Liam’s attention. Girls started swarming in flocks as a group of guys made their way through the doors and towards the VIP section. Harry couldn’t ignore the way his jaw fell open as he took in the first two members of the supposedly special group. One of them was Zayn Malik, the up and coming model that had been flooding the covers of fashion magazines for months. He looked even better in person, if that was even possible. But it was the second guy who really caught his attention. He’d just had a wank to his music video that very morning. Well, isn’t this fucking awkward.
“What the hell is Louis Tomlinson doing here?” Harry turned to Liam and chose to ignore the blush that was creeping up from his neck.
* * *
Of course there were a million girls crowding Louis. Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration. But either way he felt claustrophobic. He loved his fans, he really really did, but he hated the fact that he couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded by people wanting pictures and autographs. All Louis wanted was to be normal, to feel normal, but he’d given up that chance when he’d entered the world of fame and money.
He let out a sigh of relief once they made it to the VIP section and were finally away from the grabby hands and loud voices. Louis couldn’t help but feel like everyone he met wanted something from him. If it wasn’t a picture or an autograph, it was a chance to have his producers listen to their demo, or they wanted him to listen to a song they’d written. No one ever just wanted to get to know him, and it felt like no one really liked him for him either. Except for Zayn. Zayn didn’t need Louis’ fame or money, he had plenty of that on his own. Sometimes Zayn felt like the only person in the world who was genuine. In fact, apart from Louis’ mum and sisters, Zayn was the only genuine person in his life. He drowned the image of Eleanor and her incessant need or money with the shot of tequila that Zayn passed his way. The last thing he wanted – hell the last thing he needed – was to think about his fiancée and the way she seemed to only want him for his name.
“Slow down, killer,” Zayn laughed as Louis shot back a second glass of tequila. “We have all night to get shitfaced.”
“Need to be there now,” Louis said as he poured himself another shot of tequila.
“Is this a sign of pre-wedding jitters?” Daniel, one of Louis’ “friends” asked as he watched Louis swallow his third shot.
Louis ran his fingers through his fringe, pushing it back off his forehead. “O'course not, I love El,” why did the words leave a sour taste in his mouth? “Couldn’t be looking forward to next weekend any more than I already am.” Yup, the words did not sit right at all.
Zayn watched Louis down another shot with worry in his eyes. He could read Louis better than anyone else, and he could tell that his best friend wasn’t nearly as happy as he was pretending to be. He’d met Louis at the brink of both of their careers, and he’d seemed so much happier back then – he’d seemed so much more in love back then too. Fame and money had changed Louis, but it had changed Eleanor way more. Louis had just become more reclusive, more tentative with who he spent his time with, but Eleanor was now consumed by it all. She needed the best and the most expensive. She never settled for anything unless it cost a fortune – Louis’ fortune. He’d watched his best mate’s girlfriend (and now soon to be wife) become the type of woman that they both hated. Zayn had tried to talk Louis into making Eleanor sign a pre-nup, but he’d refused. Louis was too nice, and Zayn was worried that it was going to come back to haunt him. He was worried that Eleanor was only in it for the money, that she was too far gone and wasn’t the girl Louis had known before all the fame and money. But he also knew that he had to support Louis, and telling your best mate that you think their fiancée is a gold digger isn’t exactly the best way to show your support.
“Where are you going?” Zayn shook himself from his thoughts as Louis got up from his spot at the booth.
Louis pointed to the bottle of tequila. “I just drank like a bottle of champagne in the limo and four shots of tequila. I need the loo.”
“Probably should bring someone with you, yeah? You might get harassed by some handsy girls on the way.”
Louis shrugged. To be honest, he was so fucking tired of needing to bring security with him everywhere he went. He just wanted to take a piss without having someone standing behind him. “I’ll be fine, Z. Besides, it’s my bachelor party, right? I need to get groped at least once.”
He managed to make it to the bathroom in under fifteen minutes. He’d been stopped countless times for selfies and autographs, and had even had his bum pinched by some overly zealous woman who looked to be in her fifties. It was all in good fun though, she’d slid her number into his back pocket and he promised to call her if his upcoming marriage didn’t work out.
The bathroom was relatively empty when Louis entered it. There was one guy drying his hands and another just starting to unzip his insanely tight jeans at the urinal. Wait, did Louis just notice how tight another lad’s jeans were? He took a second to shake himself out of his thoughts (and also take in the realization that this very same guy was also wearing a rather see through shirt that was spotted with roses). Well, whoever the hell this guy was deserved an award for being 100% confident in absolutely anything. Louis stepped up to the urinal that was beside Mr. Fashion, internally groaning at the fact that a bathroom at a fancy club only had two urinals. It was never good toilet etiquette to whip your dick out directly beside another guy, but alas, that’s what he had to do. He hadn’t realized just how drunk he was until he had to put his palm on the wall to steady himself as he swayed on his two feet.
“You alright, mate?” the question could only be coming from one person, since the guy drying his hands had already left the bathroom. Louis turned his attention to Mr. Fashion himself, and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the colour of this guy’s eyes that made his head spin. What the fuck was even happening?
* * *
“You alright, mate?” Harry turned to the guy beside him, who was clearly having trouble standing upright at this point. His jaw fell open for the second time that night, and for the exact same reason. Louis Tomlinson, the guy who Harry had just been watching a mere twelve hours ago on his laptop, was standing beside. And holy fuck, his dick was out and in his hand.
The truth was, Harry wasn’t even remotely close to being a fan of Louis’ music. It was too dancy and far too poppy for his taste, but he was definitely a fan of the guy standing beside him. Louis Tomlinson was fit, there was just no way he could even try to deny that. Harry had watched Louis’ new music video three times that very morning, just so that he could watch the way his mouth sang the words and the way his hands moved around. The song was all about morning sex and not having an ounce of control, and the way Louis’ mouth formed the words had driven Harry over the edge. And now he was standing beside him at the urinals of some fancy club, and it wasn’t awkward at all. Nope, not even in the slightest.
“Yeah, m’good, mate, just really fucking drunk,” Louis responded as he looked away and focused back on the task at hand. Harry had to literally force himself to look away from the way Louis was holding himself. The last thing he wanted was for this guy to think he was some sort of creep who liked to watch other guys take a wee.
Harry shook himself off, and he couldn’t help but notice Louis watching him from the corner of his eye. Was Louis Tomlinson really checking out his dick? Was that really happening right now? Harry zipped his jeans back up and walked over to the sinks, he purposely took the opportunity to wash his hands three times so that he’d still be standing there when Louis finally made his way over.
“You smell like tequila,” Harry didn’t have a filter, which was definitely a problem.
Louis laughed as he lathered the soap on his hands. “Probably taste like it too.”
Wait, what?
“You might need someone to confirm that for you,” Harry had clearly lost his mind at this point, but then again, he was fairly certain he hadn’t had one to begin with.
Louis was laughing again, and Harry was certain that it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He was also certain that he was too drunk to be ranking his favourite sounds. “Haven’t really seen anyone out there that seems worthy of having their tongue inside me.”
Harry raised his eyebrows, raking his memory for any hint that Louis Tomlinson may be somewhat interested in men, but nothing came to mind. As far as Harry knew, he was marrying a girl and perfectly happy, which meant that Louis probably hadn’t meant his last comment to come across the way it had. “I’m Harry, by the way.”
Louis extended his hand to meet Harry’s, and Harry was acutely aware that he was now touching the very same hand that had been touching Louis’ dick only minutes before. Okay, he really needed to stop. “I’m Louis, I mean, you may already know that,” Louis was stumbling, which probably had something to do with the tequila he’d consumed, but Harry found it endearing nonetheless.
It was Harry’s turn to laugh. “I already know that, but don’t worry, I’m not a fan or anything.”
Louis’ face broke into a huge smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Noted.”
“I mean, like, you’re good and all, but like, it’s a little too poppy, yeah? I mean, I have to admit, that I like that new song, No Control? It’s really proper hot, yeah?”
Louis was laughing again, and Harry couldn’t quite figure out what exactly he’d said that had been funny. “You talk a lot,” Louis said through a fit of giggles. “You think the song is hot?”
“I cannot confirm or deny the fact that I had a wank to the music video this morning.”
Harry wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but Louis seemed to move closer to him, one of his hands was on the counter, the other hanging by his side. “I cannot confirm or deny the fact that that is the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard a fan say.”
“Not a fan, ‘member?” Harry responded with a wink.”
“Wait, was that an attempt at a wink?” Louis was laughing again. Apparently Harry was the funniest guy on the planet. “That was the worst wink I have ever seen.”
Harry’s lips curled up into a smile, his dimples set deep into his face. “I’m better at other things, if you know what I mean.” Was Harry really standing in the men’s toilet at a club, bantering with Louis Tomlinson – the guy who had basically been a part of his wank bank for quite some time?
* * *
“I’m better at other things, if you know what I mean.”
Louis couldn’t quite figure out if this guy was flirting with him, or if he was just overly friendly. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was drunk off his ass and Harry had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. What the fuck?
“You’re clearly not better at dressing yourself,” Louis finally found his voice. “I mean, I can see your nipples through your shirt and the entire outline of your dick in those jeans.”
Harry smiled, and Louis had to wonder why nobody had outlawed those dimples yet. Clearly something so fucking distracting had to be bad for the public’s safety. “Maybe that’s what I was going for,” Harry said with a touch of defensiveness.
“Why would anyone purposely go for that?” The second the question was out of Louis’ mouth he regretted it. He watched as Harry’s perfect smile faltered and Harry took a step back, his arms crossing in front of his chest, almost as if he was trying to hide himself away. “Sorry. My signature sass comes out a little too strong when I’m smashed. I think your outfit is proper risqué.”
Louis didn’t miss the way Harry’s face seemed to light back up, or the way he inched his way closer to Louis. Louis really had no idea what was going on at this point. His head was swimming in the alcohol he’d consumed, and his stomach was doing some sort of weird flip. He was certain he was either about to throw up or reach out and touch Harry’s curls. Neither of those would be good.
“Is that an apology?” Harry’s hand was gripping the counter, his fingers lightly brushing against Louis’.
Louis was watching their fingers, watching the way Harry’s were dancing against his. This guy was definitely flirting with him. Right? He finally looked away, but when he met Harry’s gaze he almost felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. This guy was fucking pretty. Louis had never found another male attractive before, not like this. “It is, yes,” he finally spoke. “And I never apologize, not to anyone.”
Harry moved even closer, his chest almost flush against Louis’. His hand that wasn’t resting on the counter fell to Louis’ waist, holding onto his waist as if he was going to fly away any second. “So, that means I’m special, yeah?”
Louis couldn’t even think straight. His brain was trying to focus on too many things all at once. He was trying to focus on the heat coming from Harry’s finger tips that were digging into his waist. He was trying to focus on how close Harry’s mouth was to his, how if he just moved forward an inch he’d connect with the perfectly shaped, pink mouth that was curled into a smile. He was trying to focus on the fact that he was standing in front of a guy. He’d never been in this situation before, he’d never even consciously wanted to be in this situation before, and yet here he was. He’d met some random guy in the toilet and he was pretty sure that random guy was about to close the gap between their bodies and kiss him. And he was pretty sure he wouldn’t stop him. What the fuck was happening?
Louis tried to ignore the pang of disappointed that resonated through his body when Harry pulled away. It wasn’t until he looked in the direction of what had grabbed Harry’s attention that he realized someone had interrupted them, and that that someone had been Zayn.
"Uh,” Zayn looked between Harry and Louis, confusion etched across his face. “I was just coming to make sure you hadn’t been mobbed. You’ve been gone a while.”
He had? Time had seemed to have stopped while Louis had been talking to Harry. He’d practically forgotten the fact that he was at his bachelor party and that his friends were waiting for him. He’d almost forgotten that he was famous and that the second he walked out of the bathroom that he’d have a hoard of people begging him to give him whatever they wanted.
“Hi, I’m Harry,” Louis snapped out of his thoughts and watched as Harry introduced himself to Zayn. He waited for Harry to use some sort of line on him, like he had with Louis. When the flirting didn’t start, Louis couldn’t help but smile to himself. So, Harry wasn’t just like that with everyone.
“Zayn,” Zayn extended his hand to Harry’s, but kept his eyes trained on Louis, as if he was trying to figure out what he’d just walked in on by looking into his best friend’s eyes.
“Listen, Harold,” Louis clapped Harry on the back before making his way towards Zayn. “We’ve got a VIP section and more alcohol than we could ever hope to drink. You should join us.” Louis had tried to make the invitation come out cool and nonchalant, but the way Harry’s face broke into a huge grin made his stomach do backflips.
“A, my name isn’t Harold, it’s just Harry,” Harry started. “B, I’ve got a couple friends out there that I can’t just abandon, even for a pretty boy like yourself.”
Louis caught Zayn looking between them again, but chose to ignore Harry’s comment. “Invite them with you. I’ll let the bouncers know that Harold and his guests are allowed in our booth and he’ll show you up.”
“Can’t wait,” Harry said, watching as Zayn walked out of the bathroom and held the door open for Louis to follow. “Oh, and Louis?”
Louis turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Harold?”
“You have no right calling my pants tight. Those pants are practically hugging your bum. Not that I’m complaining, you’ve got a fucking nice bum.”
Louis couldn’t stop his face from turning a deep shade of pink, but he played it off and rolled his eyes at the cheeky guy whose dimples were basically heroin. “See you in a bit.”
* * *
Okay, so that had just happened. Harry had just flirted with Louis fucking Tomlinson, and he was fairly certain that Louis hadn’t been totally against it. In fact, Harry had almost fucking kissed him, and Louis hadn’t pulled away. And Louis hadn’t been totally creeped out when Harry had admitted that he’d had a wank to Louis’ video. That had to mean something. Right?
“So, you guys are going to fucking love me,” Harry had made his way back to where Liam and Niall were standing at the bar.
Liam handed him a pint of beer. “It’s probably a tad warm now. I ordered it for you ages ago. Where the hell were you?”
“I was in the toilet. I had to wee.”
“You were gone for like twenty minutes, Haz. You may want to see a doctor,” Niall said as he took a drink from his own beer.
Harry punched Niall in the arm playfully before speaking. “Anyways, back to my story. You’ll never guess whose dick I saw.”
Niall groaned. “Mate, I’m all for you meeting someone new, but I don’t need graphic details.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that, you twat. So, anyways, I was taking a wee when this guy came up to the urinal beside me. He was so drunk, and he had to like hold himself up, right? So, I asked him if he was okay, and that’s when I noticed that it was Louis Tomlinson.”
Liam’s eyes widened a bit. “Really? You’d think they’d have a private toilet in the VIP section. That’s weird.”
“Not the point, Li,” Harry continued. “We got to talking and he invited us up to his section. Apparently they’ve got a bunch of free booze and he’s the sharing and caring type.”
“That’s fucking sick, let’s go!” Niall didn’t even wait for them to acknowledge him before he started walking towards the VIP area.
“You’re not going to find your rebound guy up there,” Liam, the forever god of logic, added.
Harry shrugged. He was pretty sure (okay, he was hopeful at best) that he’d already found his rebound guy. “I’d rather get drunk off free liquor.”
They made their way to the roped off VIP section, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little less than adequate. He wasn’t usually the kind of guy to lose his sense of confidence, but when he’d been alone with Louis in the washroom, he’d practically forgotten that Louis was rich and famous. But now that he was standing in front of a team of security guards, he was forced to recognize the fact that they ran in different crowds. Harry was the uni student who could barely afford rent, and Louis was an internationally famous singer/songwriter. Harry swallowed his insecurities. If anything, he should be looking at this like a challenge. Besides, Louis had seemed more than open to the idea of being flirted with by Harry. So, he’d just be doing Louis a disservice if he stopped now.
“I’m a friend of Louis’,” Harry announced to security. He was hoping that he wouldn’t have to sink to the measures he’d had to at the entrance of the club. The last thing he wanted to do was flirt with another steroid junkie.
The security guard barely even looked Harry over. “Name?”
“Harry and guests. It may be under Harold.”
Niall turned to Harry with a questioning look in his eyes. “Why would it be under Harold?”
Harry couldn’t fight the smile from taking over his face. “It’s just a little insider I have with Louis.”
“You guys have inside jokes already?” Liam questioned. Harry couldn’t deny the fact that it seemed rather odd that he’d already made it to that point with someone he’d met in the toilet. Oh well, it felt fucking awesome.
“Oi, Nicolas, they’re with me,” Louis appeared behind the security guard, his hand resting on the muscular man’s shoulder. “S’nice to see you again, Harold.”
“Likewise,” Harry’s face was bright, and he knew he must look like a kid who’d just seen a red bicycle sitting under the Christmas tree. But he didn’t care. He wanted Louis to see the effect he had on him. “Now, I seem to remember you promising alcohol.”
The security guard finally stepped aside to let Harry, Liam and Niall walk up the stairs and into the VIP area. Niall let out a low whistle as he looked around and took in his surroundings. “It’s fucking nice up here.”
“S’alright,” Louis agreed as he stuck out his hand awkwardly. Harry wanted to be the one to grab it, but of course that would be mental. Louis was clearly trying to introduce himself to the others. “I’m Louis.”
Niall and Liam took turns introducing themselves before Louis led them to his roped off area. Harry recognized Zayn immediately and watched as he stood up and shook Niall and Liam’s hands. He couldn’t help but notice the way Zayn seemed to linger around Liam, or the way that Zayn was taking his time looking Liam over from head to toe. Damn, now if only Louis would look at him like that. He wanted to know if Louis had picked up on the vibe between Zayn and Liam, but when he moved his eyes to Louis he became instantly breathless. Louis had already been looking at him, his blue eyes trained on Harry’s chest. Now, there was the sign Harry had been waiting for.
Harry squeezed himself in between Louis and Zayn, because there was no way in hell he was going to spend the rest of his night wishing he was beside Louis. He tried not to die a little when Louis smiled at him.
“Are you a tequila type guy or a vodka type guy?” Louis asked as he held two bottles up in front of Harry.
“I can be any type of guy you want me to be,” Harry’s voice was barely audible, but he could tell that Louis had heard him by the way he seemed to gasp. Harry stared at Louis’ mouth as it fell open for a brief second. Now, there was a place he could get lost in.
“How about tequila shots all around, yeah?” Zayn grabbed the bottle from Louis’ hand and began to pour shots. “Liam, you like tequila?”
Liam was sat on the other side of Zayn, and Harry didn’t miss the way Liam was staring at Zayn’s face. Zayn did have a wonderful face – all chiseled cheek bones and long eyelashes. It was almost impossible not to stare. “Yeah, tequila’s great,” Liam’s voice came out shaky, almost as if he was nervous – almost as if he was completely in awe of the model sitting beside him.
“So, how do you guys know my man Louis?” the guy who Harry was fairly certain Louis had introduced as Daniel asked from his spot across the table.
Harry watched as Zayn passed around the tequila shots. He waited until they downed them as a group before turning his attention to Daniel. “Just met him in the loo. Get it? I met Lou in the loo?” He couldn’t stop himself from laughing at his own joke.
“Seriously?” Daniel didn’t seem impressed by Harry’s humour, but that didn’t matter because Louis was laughing beside him. “You just met him in the toilet? And he invited you back to our section? Seems kind of weird.”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. He definitely didn’t like this Daniel guy. “What’s weird about it? We got to talking while taking a wee. He’s allowed to make friends, isn’t he?”
Daniel took a sip from whatever he was drinking. “Of course. It’s his bachelor party, did he tell you that?”
Harry didn’t get what this guy’s problem was, or maybe he did. He was definitely getting some sort of homophobic vibe. “Yeah, he mentioned it,” of course that was a lie, but Harry didn’t exactly care. He didn’t miss the way Louis seemed to sink into the booth, as if he was embarrassed for being caught maybe flirting with a guy when he was about to marry a woman.
It wasn’t until Louis’ friends, except for Zayn, decided they’d had enough of the night and left the club that Harry felt like he could turn his attention back to Louis. “Those guys are kind of assholes.”
Louis’ eyes seemed to be filled with guilt as he poured them each a glass of scotch. “Yeah, I’m sorry about them.”
As Harry accepted his glass, he let his fingers brush against Louis’. The way that Louis seemed so transfixed on where their finger met made Harry believe that he hadn’t been the only one to feel the electricity. “Daniel seems to be a tad homophobic. Guess he wasn’t a fan of my risqué shirt.”
“I’m always telling Louis that,” Zayn stated as he finally pulled his attention away from Liam. “Every time I say something about my sex life he looks like he wants to punch me in the face. One day I’m just going to snog a guy in front of him just to see how he’ll react.”
Louis laughed and put an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Should’ve tried that tonight, I’m sure Liam would’ve been game. Right, Liam?”
For a second, Harry thought Liam was going to have some sort of aneurism, but he finally met Zayn’s eyes and smiled. “I would’ve definitely participated in that experiment.”
Harry had had enough of the waiting and playing coy. Sure, he was drunk, but he knew for a fact that he’d find Louis just as fit if he was sober. He scooted over in the booth until he was sitting flush beside Louis. He wanted more. He needed more. “I wasn’t joking about your ass earlier,” his mouth was against Louis’ ear and he let his hand rest on his thigh. He was sure he felt Louis shudder beneath his touch.
* * *
“I wasn’t joking about your ass earlier.”
Louis was frozen. Harry’s hand was on his thigh and his mouth was against his ear and Louis was fairly certain he’d died and was being given some sort of karmic reward for being such a good person. All jokes aside, Louis was definitely dreaming. There was no way there was this curly-haired, beautiful guy sitting beside him – touching him. Just a few hours ago, Louis would never have even known that this very situation was something that would send him in a tailspin. But he was putty in Harry’s hands, and he wasn’t sure how to become a coherent human being again. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.
Louis turned so that he was facing Harry, so that he was getting lost in his green eyes and the way that his shirt was unbuttoned to his navel. This guy had absolutely no shame and Louis loved it. “I’m sorry, do you have a fucking butterfly tattooed on your stomach?”
Harry looked down to where Louis’ eyes were trained on his stomach and the butterfly tattoo that visible underneath his shirt. “Yup, it’s lovely, isn’t it?”
“It’s a fucking butterfly,” Louis’ voice was laced in judgment, but he was also pretty sure it was the most beautiful tattoo he’d ever seen on another human being.
Harry’s hand made its way higher up Louis’ thigh, and Louis was definitely going to faint. “I bet you wouldn’t mind running your tongue over it.”
Okay, Harry’s actions had definitely passed the realm of flirting. Louis hadn’t meant to make Harry believe that he was remotely interested in men, but maybe he had? Maybe he was so royally confused that he had no idea what he was interested in? Maybe the mixture of alcohol, pre-wedding jitters (or downright fear) and the smell of Harry’s vanilla soap had him thinking that maybe he was interested in guys? Or at the very least interested in Harry?
It was official, Louis knew absolutely nothing about everything. He was lost. He was swimming in an endless ocean of doubt and confusion. And Harry’s hand on his thigh was only making it a million times worse.
Niall’s voice interrupted Louis’ internal crisis. “Lads, I think I need to take Liam home.”
Louis hadn’t even noticed that Liam was slumped back in the booth and looking awfully green. Zayn’s arm was around his shoulders and he was trying to sooth his nausea. “Think I’m gonna head out too, Louis. I’ve got a shoot early in the morning.”
Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re disappointments, the lot of you. I’m trying to celebrate my last night out as a single man and you’re bailing at 1 am.”
Harry’s hand squeezed his thigh as the words left Louis’ mouth. “I’m not going anywhere,” Harry’s statement came out as a promise, and it made Louis smile.
The second the others were gone, Harry shot back another glass of tequila and turned to Louis. “So, when’s the big day?”
Obviously this was bound to come up, obviously the guy who had been relentlessly flirting with Louis all night would want to know more about his upcoming wedding. Obviously. “Next Saturday.”
Harry pursed his lips for a moment before pasting a smile onto his face. “So, a week from today?”
Louis nodded his head. “Yup, what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you...with someone?”
Harry shook his head before running a hand through his curls. “Unattached.”
Louis watched him in awe. He’d never met someone like Harry – someone so carefree, forward and honest. He’d only known Harry for a few hours, but it was so obvious that he lived life in the moment, that he didn’t waste his time feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Louis envied that quality. He’d spent his entire life trying to fit in, trying to be the person everyone else wanted him to be. With Harry sitting by his side with his hand on his thigh, Louis was quickly realising that he had absolutely no idea who he really was or what he really wanted out of life. He was drunk and lost and the two of were never a good combination.
“We should take one last shot to celebrate the last week of your freedom,” Harry announced as he poured tequila into their shot glasses.
Louis knocked his glass against Harry’s and gulped the shot down. He kept his eyes on Harry, mesmerized by the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he drank the alcohol, the way his lips were just a touch pinker than they’d been a minute ago. Louis threw all caution to the wind and snuck his hand underneath the table and discreetly on Harry’s thigh. He’d done this before. Before Eleanor had been in the picture, he’d picked up his fair share of women, but this was different. This was so very different. This felt weighted with significance.
“Louis,” Harry’s voice was low and husky, and made the alcohol that was coursing through Louis’ veins run that much hotter. “What are you doing?”
Louis met Harry’s gaze, and he let a mischievous smirk play at his mouth. “I honestly haven’t a clue,” he admitted as he moved his hand up higher, blinking ever so slightly as he quickly ran his fingers over Harry’s length. Louis couldn’t ignore the fact that it was half-hard under the denim material. What the fuck was happening?
“You’re killing me, Lou,” Harry’s voice was a mere whisper as he moved his fingers up higher on Louis. He needed to feel him, he needed to know if he was even remotely effected by all of this. He let out a low growl when his fingers finally connected with Louis’ length. He was rock hard. “Holy fuck, I want to actually feel you, like without the pants.”
Louis couldn’t stop himself from rolling his hips forward into Harry’s palm. He literally had no idea what was happening any more. He was so far gone. Just a few hours ago he’d been certain he was straight. He was certain that he was supposed to be with women. But now he didn’t know anything. He was sitting beside the prettiest guy he’d ever met, a guy who was palming him over his jeans, and all he wanted was to let Harry do whatever the hell he wanted to do to him. He wanted Harry to touch him, to taste him, to take him. Again, what the actual fuck was going on?
“Can we get out of here, please?” Harry was begging, he was basically whining, and it was only making Louis’ harder. If that was even possible.
Louis rolled his hips forward one more time, a pant escaping from his lips before he opened his eyes and met Harry’s needy emerald irises. “I have a limo out back,” he finally said. “Just give me a second to, uh, calm down.”
Harry laughed but didn’t take his hand off of Louis’ dick. “No way, love,” he growled into Louis’ ear. “I want you just like this. Just carry your jacket in front of you.”
Louis didn't say anything, he just gathered up his jacket in front of his bulge and stood up from the booth. He gasped slightly when Harry took the opportunity to discreetly tap his bum with the palm of his hand. Well, wasn't this guy fucking cheeky. He led Harry towards the exit of the VIP section, clutching the jacket to his body as he asked the security team to lead them to the limo. He silently prayed that the jacket wouldn't slip, that he wouldn't let it go in his drunken state. The very last thing he needed was to be photographed leaving the club with a full, raging boner with Harry close behind. Now, that would be a fucking story.
The limo was waiting for the them, door open and engine running. Louis slid in first, exhaling when he was finally able to drop the jacket from his waist. Harry was beside him in seconds, closing the door behind him as he settled into the leather seat. At least he had the decency to wait for the driver to address Louis before he tried to touch him again.
"Where to, Mr. Tomlinson?" The driver asked.
Louis looked to Harry for help. He had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea about anything at all.
Harry smirked and turned his attention to the driver. "Just drive around, please. We'll let you know when Mr. Tomlinson is ready to go home.
The driver nodded his head in acknowledgment and pressed the button to raise the divider, granting Harry and Louis all the privacy they needed.
"You seem kind of nervous," Harry stated as he observed Louis closely. Louis was sure that he must look a proper mess. He felt sweaty and his heart was racing and he had no idea what was going on.
"Just never done this before," he said as he met Harry's gaze. Harry was practically a complete stranger, but the second Louis met his green eyes he felt calmer, so much more relaxed. That wasn't normal, right?
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Haven't done what? Left the club with someone you just met? Cheated on your fiancée? Been with a guy?"
Louis couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. Okay, so Harry got it. He understood all of the chaos that was currently swarming around in Louis' head. "2 and 3."
"Is it a problem," Harry started slowly as he turned to face Louis, his hand playing with the collar of Louis' shirt. "That I'm a guy?"
It only took a second for Louis to figure out the answer to Harry's question, and he shook his head. "Just means I have no idea what I'm doing here. I'm used to being the suave one, but you're going to have to take the reins for me."
Harry smiled widely at Louis' response, his dimples were so perfect that Louis decided he could spend the rest of the night staring at them. "I don't mind taking the reins one bit, Mr. Tomlinson," Harry said as he moved his hand to the back of Louis' neck, cupping it so that he could tilt Louis' head and gain better access to his sensitive skin. "You're just going to have to tell me if it gets to be too much, alright?"
Louis nodded his head and that was the only response Harry needed. His lips were on Louis' neck in a second, his teeth lightly grazing his skin and his tongue leaving a wet path. Louis prayed internally that Harry wouldn't leave a mark. The last thing he needed was to have to explain to Eleanor why and how he got a bunch of love bites at his bachelor party.
As if he could read Louis' mind, Harry pulled his mouth away. "Don't worry, I'll be careful. She'll never know."
Louis was staring at Harry's mouth, at his perfectly pink and plush lips. He needed them. He wasn't sure if it was the copious amount of tequila he'd consumed or just Harry's presence alone, but he'd never needed someone's mouth as badly as he did right now. "Just fucking kiss me, Harold."
Harry's eyes flickered for a moment before his lips crashed down on Louis'. Louis's mind went blank the second Harry's lips were on his own. Every single hesitation was gone. It was as if he knew one hundred percent that this was exactly where he was supposed to be. It took him a moment to react, a mere second before he remembered that he was supposed to be moving his lips against Harry's. A shiver ran down his spine when Harry's tongue swiped along his bottom lip, and Louis didn't even have to think about it - he parted his lips to let Harry's tongue move against his own. It had been a long time since a kiss alone had made Louis moan, but sounds were escaping from the back of his throat that he'd never heard before. Now this was a fucking kiss.
Harry was the one to pull away first, and only so he could catch his breath. Louis was staring at Harry's mouth. His lips were basically red now, and he had done that. Wow.
"Thought you didn't find anyone in the club worthy of having their tongue inside you," Harry's voice broke the silence, and Louis decided right then and there that he wanted to drown in it. It was brilliant.
Louis didn't even laugh at Harry's joke - he was far too gone, far too mesmerized in Harry's lips and tongue. He moved his hands into Harry's hair. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about tugging on his curls since the second he'd met him. "I have no idea what I'm doing," Louis whispered more to himself than anything.
Harry cocked his head to the side slightly, burning into Louis' eyes with his own. "Do you want to stop?"
"Fuck no," Louis growled as he tugged on Harrys curls. The groan that came from Harry made Louis' pants even tighter than they'd already been.
Louis was the one to lean forward, the one to initiate the kiss. He covered Harry's mouth with his own, not even waiting for Harry to properly respond before he was pushing his tongue past his lips. Harry tasted like a mixture of tequila and spearmint gum and it was fucking magical. Louis finally gained the courage to put his hands on Harry's body. He ran his hands down his back and under his shirt, reveling in the feel of Harry's obviously toned muscles under his fingertips. He ran his nails down Harry's skin, and the shudder he felt come from Harry made him whine.
While Louis' hands moved to explore Harry's chest, Harry was palming Louis over his jeans. He obviously hadn't lost the desire to touch him without the clothes, because the next thing Louis knew, Harry was working on his belt.
"I'm going to take these off of you, okay?" Harry broke from Louis' lips to ask the question.
Louis' head started to spin again, the chaos taking over as he realized just what was about to happen. Actually, he really had no idea what was about to happen. All he knew was that he was in a limo with a beautiful guy who wanted to take off his clothes and touch him, and Louis didn't want to say no - that was the scariest part of all.
Louis nodded his head again. Damn, he wished he could remember how to talk. He watched in awe as Harry undid his button with ease, gingerly unzipping Louis' jeans and pulling them down to his knees. Louis was rock hard under his boxer briefs, and the way Harry licked his lips as he took in the sight made Louis' dick twitch. For the millionth time, what the fuck was happening?
Harry didn’t waste a second. His hand was palming Louis again, his fingers working their way into the opening of Louis’ underwear. Louis couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, and he was pretty sure his eardrums were going to explode by how loud his ears were ringing. The second Harry’s fingers met the skin of Louis’ dick, it felt like the whole world had been tilted off its axis. Everything felt so off kilter, and yet so fundamentally perfect. He’d never known that being touched by someone could feel like this – could feel so breathtaking and awe inspiring. Harry’s fingers were literally magic and his brain just couldn’t keep up.
When Harry moved to pull down Louis’ boxer briefs, Louis didn’t even hesitate; he lifted his bum off the leather seat of the limo to make things easier for Harry. The air con in the limo bit at Louis’ skin, but it didn’t matter how much cold air was blowing on him, his body still felt like it was going to burst into flames at any moment. He’d never felt so alive.
“You have to tell me to stop if it’s too much,” Harry was gazing into Louis’ eyes again, his contact so intense that Louis could feel his stomach swarm.
Louis nodded his head and gasped when Harry’s hand wrapped around his length. He hadn’t noticed just how big Harry’s hands were, not until this very moment, not until his cock was engulfed in his perfect fingers. He tried to focus as Harry pumped him, tried to watch the way Harry touched him, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling back or his head from falling backwards on the headrest of the seat. It was too much and not enough all at once. Louis was fairly certain he’d never had someone touch him like Harry was right now, that he’d never had someone know exactly how to make him lose his mind.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry’s voice broke through Louis’ thoughts, bringing his attention back to reality. Louis opened his eyes to find Harry watching him carefully, his green eyes completely hooded with lust. “Let me taste you?”
Louis couldn't help the gasp of breath that escaped his mouth as he processed Harry's request. "I, uh..." he knew what he wanted but he couldn't get his thoughts straight. His brain was clearly not working right now.
Harry pulled back slightly, but his grip around Louis' cock didn't lessen. "I don't want to if you're unsure."
Louis was frustrated with himself. He knew what he wanted but he couldn't form the words. His brain was waving a red flag, telling him this wasn't right, that it wasn't okay. All he could do was close his eyes and beg his brain to just shut the hell up. As he was silently pleading with himself, Harry moved his hands to either side of Louis' face, pulling him forward until their mouths collided. Louis' mind went black at the contact and he gave into the Harry's tongue was exploring his mouth.
They kissed for what felt like eternity, until their lips felt chapped and they were out of breath. Louis panted against Harry's mouth and finally found the courage to ask for what he wanted. "Need your mouth," he breathed. When Harry backed up and searched Louis' eyes for more, Louis kissed him quickly. "Need your lips wrapped around me. Now."
"Well, aren't you bossy," Harry snickered as he slid down the seat until he was kneeling in front of Louis, his hands gripping his thighs.
Louis didn’t even have a chance to counter Harry’s words before Harry’s tongue was licking a stripe on the underside of his length. Louis couldn’t take his eyes off of Harry, who was on his knees for him, his lips wrapping around his cock and his eyes locked on Louis’. It was the most amazing thing Louis had ever witnessed – the most fucking sexual thing he’d ever experienced. The way Harry watched for his reaction, the way he hummed as he took Louis to the back of his throat – everything Harry was doing was so perfect. Louis wanted to savor the moment, he wanted it to last for forever, but Harry’s mouth was perfection and he was too far gone. Louis came with a cry, his fingers intertwined in Harry’s hair. He was fairly certain he’d never had such an intense orgasm, and he was positive that it was all because of the green-eyed boy kneeling in front of him.
“Gotta say,” Harry started as he moved back up Louis’ body until he was straddling his thighs. “I’m really happy we shared that wee in the toilet tonight.”
Louis was laughing as Harry’s mouth moved to cover his own, and he moaned as he tasted himself on his tongue. He was basking in the afterglow, his heart still racing from what Harry had just done to him, but he couldn’t help but fear that when the alcohol and magic of the night washed away that he’d be left feeling numb and scared. What the fuck just happened?