Chapter Text
Louis walks right into the mostly empty science room, ready to just get this detention over with, and nearly trips over some stray cords by the front desk. Nice science-room safety-policy following guys. He signs his name on the roll list, watches as the attending teacher barely nods his acknowledgement, and quickly makes his way to the back corner of the classroom, away from the other four heathens already blankly staring and waiting for this to end. He’s managed to go almost all four years of high school without landing in here, and now with just one more semester in his senior year, his big mouth finally caught up to him.
There’s a girl in knockoff designer clothes, texting and popping very impressively sized bubble gum bubbles. Louis is pretty sure she’s there for multiple tardies this week, as she is definitely one of the ‘15 minutes late with Starbucks’ girls. He doesn’t blame her for that because school really does start far too early for actual learning. Two of the boys are wearing jackets that tell Louis they are on the basketball team and he honestly doesn’t care to think about why they are in detention, because they aren’t the nicest boys in school. The fourth person joining him on this lovely day in detention is a messy looking boy with dirty hair and dark circles under his eyes, body smelling distinctly of weed when Louis walks by.
He crinkles his nose and looks away, plopping down in the back corner like he intended, brushes off his red pants, and opens his magazine. He’d picked up a Vogue last night, with Cara Delevigne on the cover, and is happy to have something full of pretty things to distract him from his miserable afternoon. He’s just thinking about how he shouldn’t even be here the door swings open at the front of the room.
A boy walks in.
He’s in Louis’ year but Louis has never spoken to him. He’s definitely seen the boy walking in the halls or using the weights in the gym after class, and yes he is completely beautiful. Louis would have to be blind to not notice just how fucking hot this boy is. His brown hair is pulled up in a small ponytail on top of his head, curling at the ends, he is looking away from Louis for now. He’s wearing a grey sweater with holes on the elbows and tight black skinny jeans that leave pretty much nothing to Louis’ young and hormonal mind. The boy says something to the teacher which makes her scoff and roll her eyes, and he turns around with a big smirk on his face.
His stupid gorgeous face complete with big, emerald green eyes, adorable dimples, and plump, pink lips. And oh god he is looking right at Louis while he openly stares at this boy’s everything, and oh god even more because he’s noticed and is now walking straight toward Louis.
Oh shit.
Louis blushes and directs his eyes back down to the mag. He has no idea what he is actually looking at because all his mind can focus on is the fact that this very hot boy is now sitting right next him in their own secluded section of the room. Louis knows the boy is staring, he can feel those eyes on him every second. Finally, probably after a full minute of this awkward tension, Louis peaks up at the boy.
“Um, hello?” Louis sort of asks when he looks into those dreamy eyes.
The smirk from earlier is still firmly planted on this hottie’s face and yet Louis isn’t annoyed. The boy drops the smirk into a soft, almost fond smile, and says, “Sorry ‘bout the staring, just never seen you in here before.”
“Oh,” Louis says, eyes losing their blindness caused by the boy’s beauty as he notices the bruise on the boy’s cheek. “No, I’ve never had detention before. I’m generally a good boy.”
“I bet,” Boy says mostly under his breath. “I’m Harry, and you?”
“Louis,” He says, holding out his hand for Harry to shake. The moment their hands touch Louis feels how big and warm Harry’s are, but the teacher interrupts the moment with a loud shush.
“Oops,” Harry mumbles, dropping Louis’ hand and leaning back in his seat. She glares at the two of them and then darts her eyes down to the very thick and dusty book in her hands.
A quiet moment passes between the two of them where Harry makes himself comfortable in the cramped desk seat and Louis puts his copy of Vogue away. He taps his fingers on the desk, mimicking a little song he has to learn on the piano, and shyly looks back over at Harry, biting his bottom lip. He stares at the bruise and frowns a little, wondering what happened. Perhaps it has to do with why Harry is in detention. “Hi… do you mind me asking something?”
“Sure thing,” Harry whispers, scooting the desk closer to Louis so they can talk without getting in trouble. “Pretty thing like you can ask me anything he wants.”
“Where, um, how did you get that bruise?” Louis asks nervously, blushing at the comment.
“Got in a fight during eighth period,” Harry shrugs. He laughs a bit when Louis’ eyes get suddenly very wide. “Don’t worry, you should see the other guy.”
Louis fish mouths for a moment, not sure how to respond to that. Harry seems so relaxed for someone who just got in a fight. “And that’s why you’re here?”
“Yup,” Harry nods. “Not as serious as it sounds though, because we both only got a couple hits in.”
“Can I ask why?”
Harry shrugs again. “Yeah, well I’d seen him giving some freshman grief in the halls right before class, and I politely told him to leave the kid alone. Apparently bullying kids because they’re a bit nerdy and skinny is this guy’s favorite activity, because he didn’t like my nice request. Called me a fag so I punched him, and he barely punched me, I hit him one more time and broke his nose, and here we are.”
Louis’ mouth drops open. “Oh my god. You broke his nose?”
“Well barely…it was bleeding a little and I heard a crack when I punched him, but I still think he was being dramatic. A broken nose actually doesn’t hurt as much as people think.” Harry explains.
“I suppose you’ve had a lot then?” Louis asks.
Again Harry just shrugs. “Shit happens.”
“You like fighting?”
“Sort of,” Harry starts, then stops and leans in close to Louis. “Sorry, I’m sure I sound like a right idiot. I don’t fight just anyone, is what I mean. I box, like the sport? I’ve been doing it since I was fourteen and awkward and getting bullied all the time. Dad thought it was a good way to keep bullies away, and it turns out I’ve got a real talent for it. Usually I fight in a ring with other guys who know what they’re doing. In fact, I train at this great gym in Manhattan. Today was just a fluke.”
Louis nods, feeling a lot less tense about the whole fighting thing. “I guess that makes sense. Though I never really understood why people would punch each other for sport.”
Harry softly laughs. “Well, I guess it’s a testament to human beings’ natural barbarianism.”
Louis stares, almost about to laugh out loud when he says, “Um, what?”
“I’m joking Louis,” Harry giggles. “Like I said, I did it because I was getting bullied and I wanted to learn to be tough. Now it’s just a high contact sport to me.”
“High contact sport,” Louis repeats slowly, letting out a breathless laugh. “I guess that’s a very loose summary of boxing. But the real question is, do you get in school fights a lot, Rocky?”
“I suppose there’s been a few stray fights here in this lovely school, but all of them go the same for me,” Harry says, once again smiling that beautiful smile with adorable pearly white teeth. “I only try to stand up for the little guy.”
“Well that’s very kind,” Louis coos, voice soft as a dove. “Not so scary after all, for someone who, I’m guessing, frequents detention, considering your little exchange with Ms. Knox.”
“She and I have a very volatile relationship, as you can see. I try my best to charm her, but to no avail,” Harry smirks, sending a wink up to her even though she isn’t paying attention.
“Oh what a shame,” Louis says, biting down a crinkly-eyed smile with his sharp teeth. “You are quite charming, I would say.”
“Why thank you,” Harry hums. He leans in a bit closer, enough to have his fingers touch Louis’ forearm which is resting on the desk. He rubs the backs of his fingers on Louis’ soft, tan skin, and feels the goosebumps form on his arm. “Now, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in here? You’re too sweet to be in with these villains.”
Louis snorts. “Hardly villains, Rocky Balboa. We’re all just dumb kids. This particular dumb kid is in here because he talked back to his stupid History teacher, who decided his essay on how Alexander Hamilton was very much in love with his friend John Laurens was ‘inaccurate’. Ridiculous, really. You should see the letters they wrote each other. Not even I am that gay.”
“Oh my,” Harry laughs, loud enough to get shushed by Ms. Knox again. He flashes her his best bright smile and a small wave, to which she responds with a roll of her eyes. She looks up at the clock and her face falls as if all of life is completely unfair. There’s still forty-five minutes left in detention. Harry directs his attention back to Louis. “You really think they were in love?”
“Of course! The things they wrote were so romantic, and so…erotic. It’s a shame Laurens didn’t survive the war so they could be together again,” Louis sighs dreamily.
“Are you a fan of romance?”
“Definitely.” Louis says, cheeks tinged with pink.
“Me too.” Harry responds, licking his lips.
Half an hour goes by of the two of them whispering to each other, and lightly flirting and Louis can’t say he has ever felt more attracted to anyone in his life. Harry would say the same. It gets to the point where their desks are pushed together and their feet are intertwined underneath, Harry’s muscled arm wrapped around the back of Louis’ chair. When Louis takes out his phone to show Harry pictures of his little sisters, their faces get so close their cheeks nearly touch. The entire thing is so hot and makes Louis’ heart beat so fast, and he is getting so turned on just being near Harry.
Fifteen minutes early, the teacher sighs and stands up, clapping her hands together. “Alright kids, I’m letting you go early because Spring Break is next week and frankly I don’t want to be here either. Behave tomorrow so you don’t have to take up my time again and we can have a nice weekend.”
Everyone quickly packs up their things and practically runs out of the room, except Harry and Louis who take their time. Harry, like the perfect gentleman that he is, helps Louis out of his seat and even offers to carry his books, but Louis declines.
“You know,” Louis says, stopping right outside the classroom door. The teacher walks by them and closes the door behind, so Harry pulls Louis aside to the row of lockers. Louis watches her walk away before he continues, “My family isn’t expecting me home until after 3:30, and it’s only 3:15… any ideas for wasting some time?”
That smirk from earlier finds its way back onto Harry’s pretty lips. “I think I have an idea.”
Next thing Louis knows, he’s perched on top of the counter in the boy’s restroom, Harry standing between his legs, with his mouth on Louis’ neck. Louis’ whimpering as his hands clutch tightly onto Harry’s shoulders, and he ruts himself against Harry’s midsection. They’ve been in here making out for about five minutes and Louis is already so hard and hot, loving the way Harry’s big hands feel on his tiny waist.
Louis whines when Harry bites into his neck, creating a round purple bruise in the skin, marking his new place on Louis. He gasps when Harry licks the mark, and barely gets out a question of, “Wh-what’s your last name?”
Harry pulls back for a moment, leaning his head up to kiss Louis’ lips, and he whispers into them, “Styles, ‘m Harry Styles.”
“Ha,” Louis breathlessly laughs. “Sound like a fucking popstar.”
“It’s quite a name,” Harry says, kissing Louis’ cheeks and moving his hands around to Louis’ back. “And you?”
“Louis Tomlinson,” He moans, slipping his arms up behind Harry’s neck, crossing his wrists as they passionately kiss. They fit together so perfectly and Harry’s mouth is so warm and wet, and Louis just knows this is the start of something beautiful.
“Sounds like a Prince.”
“Then maybe you should treat me like one,” Louis says with a sweet smirk.
Harry laughs, and kisses Louis’ nose. “Nice to meet you Louis Tomlinson.”
At around 3:45, the two boys emerge from the bathroom, disheveled but sated, hanging off each other in complete bliss. Harry places a sweet kiss on Louis’ cheek as they take each other’s hands and walk down the hall to the exit.
When they get there they realize it’s raining pretty hard and if there was anything that was going to ruin Louis’ new good mood, this is it. He has to walk home, is the thing, and while his house isn’t that far, he’d still rather not get soaking wet. So Louis sighs and shoves all of his books into his backpack, looking up at Harry with a light smile. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow? I hope?”
“Of course, do you have a ride?” Harry asks, taking his hair out of the ponytail. It’s so curly and reaches just past his chin.
“Nope, but my house isn’t far.” Louis shrugs.
“Oh Baby, you shouldn’t’ have to walk in this rain,” Harry pouts. Louis shudders at the pet name. “Let me take you home.”
“Harry, you don’t have to take me home,” Louis says, smiling at the offer. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, no, no I insist. It’ll be fun,” Harry urges, taking Louis’ hand once again. “Ever ridden a motorcycle?”
Louis’ smile turns up into an excited grin, “No. Oh my god, you drive a motorcycle?”
“Yup, been learning since I was sixteen and my mom surprised me with one on my eighteenth birthday this year. I’ve got an extra helmet and everything, if you want?”
“Oh gosh,” Louis giggles. “I would actually love that.”
“Had a feeling you would, come on Babe,” Harry says, directing Louis to the parking lot. The bike is waiting at the very front of the lot, little rain droplets covering the seats. Harry rushes them both over and pulls out a sparkly gold helmet from his bag, he places it on his head, and then grabs a silver sparkly helmet from the back of the bike, handing it to Louis. “For you good sir.”
“You are too kind, young man,” Louis says with a mock accent. He clips the helmet on and secures his bag straps over his shoulders while Harry gets on the bike. Louis swings his legs over and scoots forward so he’s right against Harry’s back, wrapping his arms and locking his hands on Harry’s front. “I’m a bit nervous, honestly.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, just hold on tight,” Harry mumbles back, starting up the engine. He revs it a couple times before kicking off and zooming out of the lot. Louis tightens his hands even more and rests his cheek against Harry’s damp shoulder, whispering the directions home into Harry’s ear. Definitely the start of something beautiful.
+
~ Eight Years Later ~
The less than average flat that Harry Styles has been living in with his boyfriend, is colder than usual. He chalks it up to his own body temperature being off, because of how much he sweat during training. All the lights are off and the tiny room is as quiet as a mouse, which considering the late hour, it would be no surprise to Harry that his boyfriend is already in bed.
He drops his duffel bag on the armchair, like usual, and takes off his sweater and shoes and leaves them on the floor outside the bedroom. It’s his nightly routine. Harry slowly opens the door to their room and tip-toes inside, eyes adjusting to the dark, and can see his lover in the middle of the bed. “Sweetheart? Lou, you still awake?”
“Hmmm,” Louis hums, squirming slightly on the bed. “Nope.”
“Huh,” Harry chuckles, sitting on the edge. He takes off his gym shorts and removes the bun from his hair, letting the long brown curls drape over his shoulders. “Budge over, yeah? ‘M cold. why’s it so cold?”
Louis yawns and rolls over so he is looking at Harry’s back. “Heating’s out again.”
“Shit,” Harry groans, hands rubbing down his face with frustration. “God, I-I am so sorry. Fuck!”
Louis is up in a second, because he knew Harry would react this way. “Hey, Baby, stop. This isn’t your fault. It’s okay!”
“No it’s not!” Harry snaps, standing up from the bed and running his hands through his hair. “I pay for that! This is my fault, god, h-how could I forget, oh Lou—”
“Haz!” Louis cuts in, kneeling on the bed and grabbing Harry by his hips. “It’s fine. Shit happens.”
“But I was supposed to pay,” Harry says. He covers his eyes with his hands and starts to take deep breaths. “It’s November, Louis. Winter has pretty much already started, and I let the heating go out again. I’m a fuck up and I’m sorry.”
“Honey, I-I’m not mad, nor am I blaming you,” Louis sighs up at Harry. “You’ve got a fight tomorrow, and you’ll get paid win or lose, and we will pay the late fee. It’s all going to be fine.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” Harry asks. “You should be yelling at me.”
“I would never yell over something like this, I’d never yell about anything,” Louis says sweetly. He pulls gently at Harry’s hips until the man is on the bed with him. Louis sits back down and opens his legs, letting Harry kneel between them. “I know you’re trying your best to make your dreams come true, and I’ve wanted that for you since we met. Since we were eighteen and still getting put in detention for stupid things, remember?”
Oh yes, Harry definitely remembers how they met. It was their senior year of high school and he’d gotten put in detention for the millionth time for fighting. Then there was Louis. It was his first and only detention. Louis was by far the prettiest boy Harry had ever seen in his life, and within only a minute of meeting him, Harry knew he would want nobody but him. Harry would find himself in detention a few more times for the rest of the year, all because of fights to defend Louis.
“Yeah, I remember like it was yesterday,” Harry sighs dreamily. “You were in those tight red pants, lookin’ like a twink straight from heaven.”
“Shut up,” Louis giggles. “Point is, you told me that day it was your dream to be a champ, and I have supported you every day since.”
“But I can’t just pile all the bills on you, Sweetheart,” Harry says. “Bartending for Niall is only bringing in so much from you.”
“He pays me fairly, Haz,” Louis says. He brings his hands to Harry’s cheeks and places a kiss on his nose. “And you know, once the fight is over, and all of our stress is satisfied for another month, we can come back here and you can fuck my brains out.”
“Shit,” Harry moans, grinding his hips down onto Louis’. “Louis Tomlinson you do not play fair.”
“’S been a week since you’ve been properly inside me, Baby. I miss you,” Louis says with a pout. “I’ve hardly the patience to play fair.”
“I hate Liam for keeping me so long like this,” Harry says shortly. “Honestly, how would he like it if I told him he had to stay at the gym six nights a week to train, instead of going home and fucking his hot wife?”
“Marci told me how Liam stays even later than you guys, and she will go days without seeing him, so I think Liam does sort of understand your pain,” Louis says matter of factly.
“He’s still a bastard,” Harry grunts.
“I take it training was rough today?” Louis asks.
“Training is fine, Liam is rough,” Harry sighs. “You know how he gets before a fight.”
“Oh, I know,” Louis says. “And you know he’s only hard on you because he believes in you.”
“Don’t know how he hasn’t lost faith in me yet. I’m nowhere close to getting sponsorship, or a title, and I don’t exactly have a perfect record,” Harry says dejectedly.
“Honey you’ve been on a winning streak for almost three years now. It’s been long enough since you’ve lost,” Louis says, rolling his eyes at Harry’s melodramatic tone. “Besides that you’re young, and driven, and talented. Liam knows what he’s doing and he knows you,” Louis says. He lets go of Harry, pulls the covers over them, letting Harry wrap around his body. “Now lie down Rocky, let’s just sleep now. You have to rest up for the fight.”
Harry sighs into Louis’ neck, petting up and down his tummy. He lives for Louis’ gentle encouragement, and the way he can just calm all of Harry’s nerves with very few words. “Are you going to come?”
“Of course I am,” Louis says with a yawn. “You know you need me in your corner.”
“You’re so right, and one day I promise it will be the Champ’s corner,” Harry mumbles. They’re both asleep in minutes.