Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Paris 1900:

All of Louis’ life he had wanted to be onstage, to be considered a real actor. The life he was living now wasn’t exactly what he had planned for. Unfortunately, a man named Simon Cowell had found him. At sixteen, Louis had no idea what he was doing, he could barely speak English. All he wanted to do was to act and sing being an orphan of no repute, with no money, no family name. He had started out on the streets of Paris selling flowers and singing songs for a few livres. That was where Monsieur Cowell had found him, had seen something special in him. And what is so special about me now, he thought to himself bitterly. He was contracted to Simon for however long it took for him to pay off his debt. The years of feeding, clothing, and training Louis had not come cheap. If Louis ever wanted to break free, to be on the famous Parisian stage, he would work for Simon first. He knew even then that men would pay money for his attention, for his body. He would be his sparkling diamond and lure in potential clients. He was trained as a courtesan once he turned eighteen. He knew he was luckier than most that at least he was given the choice. He was twenty four now, and he wanted out.

Seven years of dancing, singing, sleeping with Simon’s clients, he wanted to be free. The Moulin Rouge wasn’t a small venture, but Louis wanted a real career, with his name on a marquee. He didn’t want to have to put on a pretty face for old men for the rest of his career. Part of him loved the opulence and the creativity in which he could perform, but it came with strings attached. He didn’t want to be Simon’s puppet anymore. Zayn called him cynical, but so what if he was? Zayn only cared about being a dancer until he couldn’t anymore, but he could see how he treated the sensitive poet that came to stare at him while simultaneously getting drunk. The man was Irish and pale and oh so spectacularly drunk that Louis was surprised he could keep doing it night after night. He was one of Zayn’s “Friends of the Revolution.” 

“Mark my words, Lou. There’s a revolution coming, and we are going to be the first ones to experience it firsthand. The life of the rich will soon be dissolved.”

Louis privately wondered how true that really was. Wasn’t it the wealth of the rich man that payed his wages. If not for men who had more wealth than sense, would a place like the Moulin Rouge exist? 

He didn’t think so. Zayn’s revolution was founded on principles of beauty, love, and art….things that mattered but wouldn’t put a roof over your head. Louis knew that his body was the reason why he had a job, the reason why Simon could sell him off to the highest bidder. He was trained in the art of seduction, he knew when to show his ankle, when to sigh and moan for another pleasure. It was a way of life for him, and he had long since believed that love existed. Love like he had read about in books and fairy tales. His one way ticket out was money and lots of it. Enough to pay off his debt and leave the Moulin Rouge richer than it had ever been. The scheme was purely Simon’s of course. Louis didn’t mind being a trophy or a prize to be won as long as he was free and able to purse a career he dreamed of. Many men would scoff at having a spouse on the stage, but Simon had somehow heard rumors of a mysterious duke that watched Louis’ performance weekly from a box. Someone who was fabulously wealthy and unoffended by a lowly courtesan dreaming of bigger things. Louis felt that it was too good to be true. He had yet to see this man, in all likelihood he was aging and unwell, only hoping for pleasure that Louis could provide, a trophy to be displayed. He would soon find out, he thought. Since Louis had become the prime entertainment for the evening shows, his prices had soared. More often than not, he was free in the evening, no longer having to be fucked by men whose manners were uncouth in the extreme. But tonight he was finally meeting his mysterious benefactor. They would meet and hopefully converse before they got down to the fucking. Louis was hoping it would be quick and painless for him. Sometimes all these men wanted was a taste, something to sate their lust while pretending to be righteous. He had seen all kinds of men. Men that just wanted a warm hole, men that wanted to be praised, men that wanted to push him around. Still, he was luckier that most and he knew that Simon, loathsome creature that he was, admired him. It was a strange thing for him to be master over all that Louis did, and yet as soon as he could make a profit from him, be rid of him so quickly. The duke must be spending quite a lot of money for a first meeting.

Louis sighed, knowing he should get ready for the nights entertainment. He would need all of his charm, beauty, and guile to get him through this. It was his one chance to leave this life behind, become respectable, and pursue his dreams. His spirits began to lift as he shrugged his corset on. He loved the drama of his outfits, he loved the seductive nature of his corsets and diamonds. He was the only performer allowed to wear the real diamond choker, that shone brightly from his slightly tanned neck. His corset was inlaid with crystals so that when he descended from the ceiling the throw would illuminate the room.

From time to time they had preachers and “holy men” outside the entrance doors ranting about sin and damning the patrons and workers alike for blasphemy. Louis thought there was no blasphemy for wanting to look pretty, for wanting to please and gratify. Perhaps it wasn’t in Louis’ nature to be ashamed because he felt no revulsion for what he was. A courtesan in a glittering court, he was playing the game, and he would win the prize.

Louis’ dressing room wasn’t the biggest in the Moulin Rouge, but it was set apart from the others so it was quieter. The building itself was bigger than expected inside. The towering windmill beckoned with its lighted ramparts, tempting potential clients with the warmth of new electricity. Louis knew that it must have cost Simon a pretty penny to have the auditorium awash in electric lights. But it was what the patrons expected, the glamour and glitz and the sheen of pretty things. At least Louis was on good terms with the rest of the dancers who didn’t begrudge him his dream. Perhaps it was because he genuinely cared about their welfare. He heard a rap on his door and turned from the mirror. 

“Ready to meet your future husband tonight?” Zayn’s face peaked around the corner of the door as he grinned. Once upon a time Louis thought that perhaps it would be Zayn who Simon would prefer to the the sparkling diamond. He was simply stunning, with his brown skin and dark brown eyes, lean and graceful as he was. But Zayn was shy of the spotlight, and his sweet nature endeared him to Louis. They became close friends with Zayn having the courtesy of lacing up Louis’ corsets for his performances. 

“You know as well as I that I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he said. In truth, he was nervous which irked him. He usually never got nervous before meeting a patron. He knew what men liked, but this time so much pressure was being placed upon him.  

Zayn tutted. “I think Simon places too much of the burden on your shoulders, Lou.” He closed the door slightly behind him and beckoned Louis to stand up. Louis tried hard to hold his breath as Zayn’s deft fingers laced up the corset, making his waist a perfect hourglass. 

“I swear you make it tighter every time,” Louis said, his figure already curvy. 

“I can sense you trying to ignore the topic so I’ll let it go for now,” Zayn said, giving Louis a stern look. 

Louis bit his lip, knowing that Zayn only cared about his well being. 

“I’m just afraid I’ll mess it up,” he whispered. 

He felt Zayn’s wiry arms come around his shoulders as he steered them towards the full length mirror. 

“Look how beautiful you are, inside and out. There’s no way he’s not going to love you. Did you see how much he donated last week alone? Just because you sang a different song dedicated to him. You’re a knockout, Lou. He adores you already.”

Louis was on the verge of tears when Zayn shushed him. 

“Don’t ruin your makeup, mon ami.”

“You know once I leave here, I’m paying off your debt too.”

Zayn looked at him and smiled.

“I know love, even though you don’t have to. I have Niall to keep me here.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know what you see in that drunk Irishman.”

Zayn flicked his hair away from his eyes. “I see a man that loves me unconditionally of course.” 

Louis went back to his vanity, applying a sheer gloss to his lips. 

“You and your ideas of l love,” he said with a smile.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to survey his outfit fully. 

His legs were adorned with fishnets, his feet with black heeled boots, comfortable enough that he could dance in. His corset was encrusted with diamonds and shimmered every time he moved, the attached skirt was sheer. He slid a pair of black velvet gloves on and pinned a small top hat with a diamond band on his head. He was considered the finest beauty in the Moulin Rouge with his curvy body and his soft skin. His hair was a feathery fringe, just long enough that the wisps of hair brushed his lean cheekbones. But what men loved most of all were his sapphire eyes, now underlined with kohl, and his dark and thick lashes. He was barely 5’7”, but with his pumps on reached to about 5’9”. Thankfully he had learned to dance in heels years before. He drew a tube of red lipstick out of the drawer and glided it on his lips.

 Zayn dusted a sheer powder on his face and with that, he was ready. 

“You look beautiful, but I don’t think you need me to tell you that,” Zayn said. He was already wearing his dance costume, a garnet choker around his neck. 

“And you look beautiful as well mon ami, no wonder that Irishman comes every night to gaze at you.” 

Zayn blushed and looked down at his hands.

“Allon-sy,” Louis said, grabbing Zayn’s hand which he squeezed. They ran down the hallways laughing until they came to backstage, where the curtain was drawn. The evenings entertainment had already started. Louis peaked around the curtain trying to place where the duke was but could only see patrons dancing and drinking. 

“Guess I’ll join the other Diamond Dogs, break a leg,” Zayn said and with a quick kiss to Louis’ cheek, was gone. Louis hated that Simon called his other dancers “Diamond Dogs” and he was called the “Sparkling Diamond.” It was a way to drum up attention and revenue, but it left a bad taste in his mouth that his fellow performers were referred to as something so base. He moved backstage towards the ramparts where he would climb onto the swing that would lower from the ceiling like a chandelier. It was his favorite part of the routine because the lights would dim and the spotlight would solely be on him. Even if it wasn’t the great stage of Paris, it was something. He had learned from a young age, especially when he had lived on the streets, that people loved to hear him sing. Simon had tutors from all over France to cultivate his voice when he had come to live at the Moulin Rouge, and it had paid off considering even some nobility came to hear him sing. He gripped the sides of the swing as one of backstage men made sure the swing was stable. It wasn’t exactly the safest thing he could have done, but he had never before fallen from the swing, and he hoped for his continued luck. Even the sides of the swing were covered in shiny jewels, though he suspected they weren’t authentic at all. It was all about the illusion.

He tweaked his act a lot of the time if he gained new inspiration. Tonight he would be singing a melody, something new that he hoped would entice the duke. Once he was singing and dancing it was hard to think of anything else, his body came alive in a way that was impossible to reproduce. But he hadn’t been lying to Zayn, he was ready, but he was so nervous. What if the duke didn’t like him once he actually met him? What if the real person Louis was underneath all the glamour wasn’t someone the duke wanted? A quiet had descended while Louis’ thoughts had been racing. It was time for his performance. The curtain slowly raised. He heard the intake of breath as glitter seemingly fell from the sky as he was lowered down. It seemed magical. In reality, it was the stage hands pouring glitter by the bucketful. Louis began to sing.

I am your shadow

I am your rain

I am your longing a little of your pain

I am red

I am blue

I am your angel

He slowly sang the last note for dramatic effect, his face in profile, lashes cast downward. The orchestra below him held the last straining mournful sound until he segued into the next number. 

The French are glad to die for love

They delight in fighting duels

But I prefer a man who lives

And gives expensive jewels

Louis waited a beat, and then the orchestra and band went wild. They flipped from the quiet classical notes of “Angel” and into the burlesque chaos of “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend,” Louis’ signature piece. 

The swing began descending in earnest as he leaned over to pose with one of his hands outstretched as it swayed him from one end of the ballroom floor to the other. The room was spacious, considered half a theater and half a ballroom with plush velvet seating on the side where the wealthier patrons gathered. He could barely see for the movement beneath him and the glare of the electric lights on the side. As he spiraled down, the music intensified, and the men on the floor jumped up to graze his body. All of the men had to dress in top hats and tails, part of the dress code. Louis looked down to a sea of black and white and let out a laugh. It was exhilarating to be singing and having men pulling out diamonds for his favor. He saw the twinkling of jewels as he finally descended to the floor, Simon taking his place as maestro beside him. It was part of the mythos of the Moulin Rouge that Simon was the master of his domain, he was the face of Parisian entertainment. He joined Louis in his signature red velvet jacket trimmed in gold with a gold capped cane. He was the ringmaster, and they were all his puppets. He held out his top hat for men to throw their offerings into. 

Louis sang his heart out, letting the men wolf whistle and clap for him. He heard the chanting of his stage name and smiled.

Square cut or pear shape these rocks don’t lose their shape. Diamonds are a girls best friend

He shimmied to the center part of the ballroom, spinning and twirling as he went. It was a sea of grabbing hands and men trying to capture his hand. Mostly it was all lighthearted, but Louis saw his bodyguard watching the performance from the side, eagle eyed in case someone tried to take it too far. Joni was one of the few people Louis trusted, a godsend for Louis’ protection. While he was dancing, he tried to search out where Zayn was in the crowd. He spotted him as he squinted, dancing in a different area than he normally did. Louis knew that Niall was an entrepreneur in the loosest sense. He was always coming up with ideas that never fully materialized. Funny that he was sitting in one of the booths normally reserved for the richer clients.

'Cause we are living in a material world

And I am a material girl

Louis blew a kiss to his audience, ignoring the cat calling. The brass band was amping up for the finale. The music continued to play as his fellow dancers, including Zayn, hurried up towards him, creating a moving circle. Louis danced offstage right and hurried towards the small changing room. It was cramped with one of the maids helping to replace his costume with another. This time his outfit was a light pink beaded corset with two diamond hearts on the bodice, the skirt having a heart shaped faux diamond at the bottom. He was used to changing costumes in a hurry so he barely tripped over the nylons, trading fishnet for sheer pink. Luckily he was wearing lingerie, easy to stay comfortable, and he knew looked provocative. They called it the pink diamond corset. The color looked lush and ripe, contrasting with Louis’ skin. Attached to the bottom of his corset were two corresponding feather boas that he could swing from his hips and move with his arms. 

Simon peered his head around the changing room. 

“Alright my love?” he asked, cataloguing Louis’ outfit with his shrewd gaze. 

“Of course!” Louis chirped. Even if he had been feeling differently he’d never say it to Simon’s face. A far cry from where Louis had been young and impressionable years ago. He learned not to let any of his real emotions show.

He slid on a pair of silk white elbow length gloves to complete the look.

“So tell me where is he?” Louis asked knowing that his employer already knew who he was talking about. 

Simon took his arm and walked him back out into the ballroom where it was still a mass of dancers and patrons. Flowers were thrust into Louis’ arms and he pouted. The boy must have been a teenager, too enamored of Louis to properly form words. 

“Did you forget that it’s diamonds that catch a ladies eye?” He pushed the boy away for him to fall into the hands of his rowdy peers. 

Simon liked to put him on display in the center, so everyone was free to look or dance with him. 

“He’s wearing a red carnation on his lapel, he was just conversing with that rabble-rouser, Niall Horan,” Simon shouted over the music.

Louis tried to see over the men and their top hats, all the moving around made it difficult and he squinted. 

He saw Niall and his friends in the booth where Zayn had been earlier. And there was a tall muscular man there, an almost awed look on his face as he was gazing around the room. His tuxedo seemed almost too small for him.

“Are you sure that’s him?” Louis yelled back towards Simon. 

Surely someone that looked so out of place and awed couldn’t be a duke, could he?

“Yes I see him there, red carnation, brown hair, tall, very nice to look at.”

Louis shrugged inwardly. Perhaps he was more worldly than his appearance suggested.

“What is he expecting?” Louis asked as Simon sidled over to his side. 

The crowd was almost getting too thick to dance. 

“Shy flower?” He pouted and looked downwards. “Bright and bubbly?” He fake laughed and batted his lashes. “Or smoldering temptress?” He bit his lip and adapted an air of seductive detachment. 

Simon regarded him thoughtfully. 

“I think…smoldering temptress.” 

He caught Louis’ arm before he could move towards where the duke was sitting. 

“You know we’re all counting on you, duckling. This whole endeavor needs funds not to mention that your own future depends upon it.” 

Louis didn’t need the reminder, it’s what he had been telling himself all day. Still, a chill crept up his spine at the thought of failure. He steeled himself, he wouldn’t fail not for Zayn, not for himself. As he walked towards the duke, his manner changed from resolved to coquettish. He would show the duke exactly what he was missing. He spread out his faux fur, and the heart across his stockings moved side to side. 

“I believe you’ve been expecting me,” he said breathily to the duke who looked at him with wide eyes. Up close, his eyes were an unusual shade of green, the pupil slightly dilated. He was every bit as handsome as Simon said he was. In truth, he was the opposite of what he had envisioned. Louis had expected an old white haired man with more money than sense, and instead this man was young and arguably very handsome.

“Care to dance?” he asked as the silence lengthened. Perhaps this man was too shy and reticent, and that was what his fault was. There must be a fatal flaw somewhere that he hadn’t glimpsed. For why else was he here at the Moulin Rouge?

“I- you want to dance with me?” the duke asked as if he couldn’t believe Louis was standing in front of him. 

Louis almost shivered at the deep baritone voice, rough and yet gentle.

“Of course I want to dance with such a handsome gentleman as yourself,” Louis said, dragging the man up by his hastily tied cravat. He was deliciously taller than Louis, perhaps by several inches.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, you and I,” he said, pulling his body closer. 

“We are?” the man said, breathing heavily. Louis smirked inwardly. This was going to be easier than he thought. It was then that he noticed all the inhabitants of the booth they were standing in. Niall, Zayn’s ardent Irish admirer and Liam, who he knew was a boxer and budding playwright. It seemed very odd company for a duke, but who was he to judge?

“Mind if I steal him away boys?” he asked, uncaring if they said yes or no. He was already propelling the duke towards the dance floor.

The duke proved to be an incompetent dancer much to Louis’ chagrin. He flopped his limbs around with little to no rhythm and stepped on Louis’ pristine heels more than once. All the time Louis kept a smile on his face while wondering what precisely he got himself into. The duke was unsure of where to put his hands even when Louis himself placed them on his hips to shimmy. He turned red when Louis slid his hands down his body. Louis at once thought he understood the problem. The duke was a virgin. That had to be it, he pondered. For someone so handsome he really had no idea what to do with his good looks. It was almost endearing. For so long men had groped him, never caring how Louis felt and if he wanted that attention. It was refreshing to be with someone who was almost reticent and polite. He tired to make conversation as they danced, the duke clumsily, Louis daintily trying to keep his feet safe from the duke’s large ones.

“So you’ve booked for the night have you not? What were you planning on doing tonight?” He bat his lashes at the duke. 

“Oh for the night? Niall told me-“ the duke started to say and then brought his hand to tug at his lip, the gesture strangely mesmerizing.

“It’s almost too good to be true,” the duke whispered hoarsely. 

“What did Niall tell you?” Louis asked curiously. Why would Niall have anything to say to a duke? 

“I- I would like to have a poetry reading,” the duke said abruptly. Louis was feeling like his outfit wasn’t tantalizing enough for the duke, which felt ridiculous. How many times had a man lost his mind over Louis’ stage outfits? 

“A poetry reading? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Louis purred, grinding his body softly on the duke’s. At least one part of his anatomy was excited to see him. 

“I love a little….poetry after supper,” he said watching the duke’s Adam’s apple bob nervously. 

“Excuse me for one moment, I have to end the show. I’ll see you in my private boudoir,” Louis whispered, giving the Duke’s throat a little kiss.

His last piece was a reprisal of “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend.” He was back again on the swing, ankles daintily crossed before him. His feather boas spread out like a fan, trailing behind the swing. It was one of his favorite outfits, he never felt prettier or daintier than when he was the “Pink Diamond.” The swing slowly started to rise up as he sang the last lines pausing to send kisses to his adoring audience.

I've heard of affairs

That are strictly platonic

But diamonds are a girl's best friend

He caught his breath and slid one of his hands down his torso. The lights started to dim as he finished. 

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend

The lights winked out as the applause roared. He grinned to himself as the swing reached the backstage rafters and noise reached a crescendo.

“DIAMOND! DIAMOND! DIAMOND!”

 The sea of men chanted as Louis climbed down from the rafter, knowing he’d have to change yet again for his meeting with the duke. He had just the thing tucked away for a special occasion. Surely this merited it. The rest of the performers would keep dancing and providing libations well into after midnight. Darkness was the friend of beautiful creatures, for in the daylight the shine wasn’t as bright or as cunning. People tended to become more pliable and influenced at night Louis had observed. Men were eager to dally with women and men that weren’t their spouses. Ready to empty their pockets for whatever courtesan took their fancy. When he had first started training to be a courtesan, he knew what people thought of the profession. He knew that it was a fancy word for whore, prostitute. The Moulin Rouge was a bordello, but it wasn’t cheap and Louis liked to believe that selling his body didn’t mean that he was selling part of his soul. He kept his inner feelings wrapped inside where only a certain few could touch it. 

He was lost in thought as he tried to ready himself mentally to seduce the duke. He didn’t think it would be especially hard, especially when they were finally alone together. He sensed the duke was perhaps shy or inexperienced. He definitely was nervous. It wouldn’t be a hardship to sleep with him though, he had felt that monster length through the duke’s thin trousers. It thrilled Louis to think that’d if he succeeded at least he’d be married to someone attractive and virile.

The distant noise from the ballroom faded as he climbed towards the bedroom he was to meet the duke at. It was one of the larger more private rooms that the Moulin Rouge offered called the Sweetheart Room. The bed frame was shaped like a heart and the mattress was springy. It even had a heart shaped cut window that opened to a balcony setting an amorous scene. 

Joni was waiting at the entrance, arms crossed looking distinctly uncomfortable. 

“Ah, my brave protector,” Louis pretended to swoon as he reached where his bodyguard stood.

Joni rolled his eyes at his antics, and Louis opened the door for them both to step into the bedroom. 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright before the big night,” Joni said, gruffly. 

Louis was rooting through the dresser for his outfit and stopped to smile softly. 

“I’ve already had this pep talk from Simon, but thank you. Can you unlace my corset in the back?” he asked.

Joni’s hands deftly unlaced the corset strings. Louis let out a sigh of relief, feeling like he could breathe again. 

“You know I just worry about you. If this man does anything you don’t want him to you just let me know,” Joni stated, serious and pragmatic as ever. 

“I will. You’re too sweet,” Louis said, surprising himself by giving Joni a hug.

The bigger man hesitated before squeezing Louis tightly in a bone crushing grip.

“Oi, watch it I was already wearing a corset,” Louis said with laughter in his voice. 

Joni looked over him with an affection that caused a pang in Louis’ heart. Joni was the closest thing Louis had to a father figure. 

“Be careful,” Joni said, booping Louis’s nose. 

“Aways am,” Louis replied as Joni ambled out of the room. The door clicked shut and finally, Louis was alone. He had just enough time to change. 

The outfit he was going to stun the duke with was a beautiful lingerie piece complete with a sheer dressing gown. The top half was a black corset that buttoned up from the front, so much easier than the whalebone corsets he had been wearing previously. The panties were black silk, and a sheer dressing gown completed the look. His stockings were sheer as well, combined with the garter belt he knew he looked delectable. He decided to swap his pumps for the black kitten heels with a glittery band on the toes. He barely had time to give himself a once over before there was a tentative knock on the door.

Louis gave himself a mental pep talk, he could do this. 

He opened the door to find the duke standing somewhat nervously outside. 

“Won’t you come in?” Louis asked coyly. 

The duke came in and his jaw dropped. Louis smirked. 

“You- you changed,” he said, his deep voice octaves higher. 

Louis crept closer to him, sliding his hands around the Duke’s shoulders. 

“Of course, this is a private poetry reading isn’t it.” 

Louis tone of voice made it clear what he thought poetry really meant. There was no doubt that the duke must need some sort of metaphor for making love. Perhaps he was nervous, although with a body like that he shouldn’t be. 

The duke’s eyes raked down his outfit, taking it in like a drowning man inhaling air. 

Louis bit his lip, turning his face to the side so that it was his profile the duke was gazing at. 

“You look amazing,” the duke whispered, awe in his tone.

“As do you,” Louis said, slipping the duke’s overcoat off. He could feel the duke tensing up, one hand on his biceps. 

“Let’s have a drink,” he said, gesturing to the cold champagne on the side board. 

“I- I think you may have misunderstood why I came here, Diamond,”

Louis pouted, struggling to get the champagne open. 

“Here you may call me Louis, Diamond is my stage name.”

He heard the duke say his name softly. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said and yet, he was still standing there looking like a lost puppy. 

“We should get you more comfortable,” Louis said abandoning the champagne, he could never open those blasted bottles. 

He took the duke’s hand, who was still fully dressed, and sat him down on the bed. He really did look a treat. Now that Louis could see him close up for more than a few minutes, he really did see how handsome and noble he looked. He was a fair bit taller than Louis, his biceps were bugling from his white starched shirt, he had the look of lean muscle. His trousers were shorter than his height which made Louis smile inwardly. These noble men had no idea how to dress properly. He could already see his cock straining against the fabric, and it looked mouth watering. What attracted Louis most of all was his eyes. It wasn’t something he normally noticed, especially when the men he met only stayed until the fucking was over. But this duke’s eyes were so green and so beautiful. Even if he seemed as nervous as a newborn colt. Perhaps he just needed a little push.

Louis climbed on top of him, pressing his whole body down the length of the duke’s. 

“Let’s make love,” he whispered in the duke’s ear, gently biting it. 

The response was instantaneous, although not the one he wanted. Hands pushed him off so hard that he fell sideways onto the bed.

“I thought we were supposed to have a private poetry reading,” the duke said. His hand were pulling on his hair nervously, he started to pace. 

Louis was at a loss. He had some strange and odd patrons in the past, but this was different. Did the duke NOT want to sleep with Louis? His eyes narrowed. Perhaps he needed to recite poetry to stimulate his senses? It was nothing Louis had heard before, but it wasn’t that terribly strange. 

 “By all means, recite me some poetry,” Louis drew his body up, the dressing gown sliding down his shoulders. 

“Well it isn’t precisely poetry that I wanted to talk to you about, but maybe it will help the flow. You know it’s quite radical what I do, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Louis quirked his brow and said silkily, “I”m sure I will.”

The duke gulped again and tugged at his collar. 

“Well I mean it’s not my own poetry that I came to speak of, but seeing you there it does remind me of something I love.” 

Louis spread himself out on the bed, giving the Duke a peak of his silk lingerie. 

He was still pacing and glancing at Louis every other second as if he wanted to look but couldn’t. 

“Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds or bends with the remover to remove.”

Louis started to moan provocatively, spreading his legs hoping to incite the duke into passion. Instead the duke was giving him a strange look, but he wasn’t deterred. 

“It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken, it is the star to every wondering bark whose worths unknown, although his height be taken.”

The duke still would come no closer, gazing at Louis feet away from the bed. Did he expect Louis to perform for him? It was unusual for him to feel at such a loss. The men that took him to bed were only concerned about fucking, this was something that Louis had never experienced. He was making Louis feel inexperienced.

For lack of anything else to do Louis started to run his hands down his own body, biting his lips at the duke’s dark look. He was close to breaking him, he just knew it. 

“Love’s not times fool though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickles compass come.” 

The duke’s voice was deep and warm, Louis closed his eyes letting out moans that were more realistic. He slid around on the sheets knowing it put his body to the best advantage.

The duke had stopped, Louis blinked his eyes open to find that the duke had come over to the edge of the bed. 

“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks.” 

Louis looked at up him questioningly. He brought his large hands to cup Louis’ face. 

“But bears it out even to the edge of doom.” 

Louis was frozen. No one had ever touched him with such tenderness. The kindness in his eyes was almost too much.

“Your eyes are very beautiful, Louis,” the duke said, his hands brushed over Louis’ brow bone, surprisingly soft. 

“When I saw you dancing, you seemed so liquid in motion, I knew you were perfect for what I had in mind.”

Louis quirked his eyebrow.

“Duke, I….I didn’t expect this when you booked a private evening with me. I never expected to be so swept away.”

Yes, he was being a little over dramatic, but he was finally getting somewhere.

The duke’s smile was crooked, and he gave him a questioning glance. His eyes dropped to Louis’ mouth.

“Who knew that dukes could be so well read or so romantic,” Louis said.

“Duke? You think that I’m a duke?”  

“But of course,” Louis said giving him a dazzling smile.

The duke’s forearms were perched on opposite sides of Louis’ body. Louis slid himself closer so that the was nestled right in front of him. 

“The most,” he wrapped his slender arms around the Duke’s neck, seeing the tendons strain. This close he could smell the Duke’s cologne, feel his breath quicken, “handsome duke.” 

He finished his sentence by finally giving into the desire to kiss the other man. At first, it seemed as if the duke wasn’t going to respond, leaving Louis near panicked, but after a stagnant moment Louis felt the duke’s hands wrap around his waist as he sighed into the kiss. 

He felt himself smile, a sort of happiness bubbling out of him. The duke was a damn good kisser. Louis let his hands wander to the breadth of the duke’s shoulders, so broad and muscled. He let the duke press him backwards on the bed, breaking the kiss as licked down Louis’ throat. Maybe not quite a virgin Louis thought to himself. 

He brought their foreheads together. They were both breathing hard, the duke was frowning at him. 

“Wait you really think I’m a duke?”

Louis’ expression mirrored the disbelief and confusion. 

“But Simon set up this meeting, he said you were Duke Cavill. You were wearing a carnation on your lapel,” Louis said. How could he have made this huge mistake?

The man who was seemingly not the duke stood up from where he was kneeling on the floor, his absence leaving Louis cold and he shivered in his flimsy dressing gown. He drew it around himself like armor.

“Niall told me that he set up a meeting with you. I’ve just arrived in Paris, and he was going to help me with my play.”

“Your….play?” Louis said flatly. Of all the fools, it had to be Niall Horan that sent this man to his door. 

“Yes, I’m a playwright and a poet. My name is Harry. Harry Styles” 

Now that Louis was really paying attention he did see that Harry had the air of a romantic poet about him.

Louis sighed. Of course someone as handsome and young as Harry wouldn’t be the duke. He felt so stupid. The real duke was out there while Louis was about to waste it on a-

“And I bet since you’re newly arrived in this country, you have no money.” 

Harry looked sheepish, curling his hands into his pockets. 

“I’m penniless. I’m staying with Niall and some of his compatriots at the moment before I get my start. I was hoping that you’d recommend my work to Mr. Cowell. That’s why I wasn’t very responsive to your uh intentions. I don’t have any money for that.”

“But you still got your free kiss hmm,” Louis said, standing up from the bed, starting to pace himself. 

“You see, Louis, this play could be everything for me. The bohemian revolution is just starting, and I want to be a part of it. Truth, beauty, Love! They are everything.” 

It seemed like Harry truly believed in this movement while Louis had his doubts. All of those were ideals, and in a better world perhaps they would mean more to him. But truth, beauty, love, and freedom, he thought wistfully. They didn’t put food in your belly or clothes on your back. 

“Of course you’re with Niall and his little friends. I’ll pretend Zayn isn’t a part of that because I feel like he has too much common sense but love?” Louis laughed. He sauntered up to Harry, cocking his hip. Even though he was now revealed to not be the duke, he was still the most attractive man Louis had seen in a long time. But he was a man like any other. 

“Do you truly believe love exists in a place like the Moulin Rouge? Everything you want, you have to have the means to pay for it.”

Harry looked at him with his wounded idealistic eyes. 

“How can you say that love doesn’t exist? It brought us together didn’t it? Fate.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Love didn’t bring us together, your bohemian friend did and besides, we just met. We have nothing but chemistry perhaps.”

 Louis wouldn’t begrudge him this because it was true. He did feel a spark with Harry that he hadn’t felt his whole career as a courtesan. 

“I think you had better leave since I’m expecting the real duke any moment now.”

“You don’t even want to know what the play is about? Nothing about it intrigues you?”

They were standing close together still. Louis wanted to lie but something compelled him to tell the truth. 

“I am intrigued, but I’m also realistic. Even if I did recommend you to Simon there’s no telling if he’d say yes. But if you leave now, I promise I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

Harry’s gaze was intense as he stared him down.

“You really don’t believe in love, do you?” he asked. There was something akin to tenderness on his face, something that Louis had never seen directed towards him.

“I’m going to change your mind, Diamond,” he said softly. 

Louis’ heart clenched. He knew better than to trust the promises of men, knew better than to let pretty words deceive him, and yet. There was something about this man.

“There’s no way if you can’t pay,” he said abruptly. “Love and pleasure aren’t free.”

Harry lifted his arms up in defense, “So you say.”

“I think our business here has come to an end,” Louis said aware of how it would look if the duke found another man in his room already. 

Harry looked as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“Who is this duke you keep talking about? Why did you think I was him?” he asked 

“He’s my ticket out of the Moulin Rouge if you must know. The way your bohemian revolution talks about freedom but fails to list the price of such freedom. Marrying the duke is the price of my own freedom.” 

“You would just marry someone for money?” Harry asked, incredulously.

“I sleep with men for a living, Harry. Don’t get sanctimonious with me,” Louis responded. 

Harry looked abashed. He slid his fingers through his hair, an unconscious habit. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound judgmental about what you do, but what about your happiness? Doesn’t that concern you? You would marry someone without love?” Harry asked, intensity in his voice.

Louis really didn’t have time to go through his life story. The internal clock to his meeting the duke was winding down. He needed to get Harry out of here fast. 

“I don’t believe love conquers all, and if I have a chance to leave this life and follow my dreams, I will. Love and-”

A brisk knock on the door ended the intense stare he was holding with Harry. Suddenly his body was suffused with nerves. And Harry was standing there in the middle of the room openly. 

“You need to hide,” he hissed at him, trying to tug him towards the large cherrywood armoire.  

“Why should I hide? Maybe I want to see this duke for myself,” Harry said stubbornly.

Louis who was shorter and smaller than Harry couldn’t budge him no matter how hard he pushed.

“Listen, I’ll talk with Simon tomorrow if you please hide right now, I’ll make sure your play happens,” Louis hissed at him. A second knock resounded.

Harry looked as if he was going to deny Louis, his hand still hovering over the closet doors.

“Please,” he whispered. 

“Fine,” Harry answered gruffly, stepping into the cabinet. Louis almost wanted to laugh at how he had to contort himself to fit. 

“Don’t make a sound,” Louis threatened. He left a sliver of an opening for Harry to breathe. He heard a noncommittal grunt that he took as agreement. 

For the second time that night, Louis readied himself to meet a duke. This time, it was for real. He couldn’t believe how easily he had been fooled by Harry, but he didn’t have time to worry about it now. 

He opened the door to find Simon and another man. 

“Please, come in,” Louis said demurely. 

Louis peeked through his eyelashes to gaze at this man who was the legitimate duke. Once again, Louis was surprised. This man was older than him, perhaps in his mid thirties, but he was classically handsome. He was taller and broader than Harry, with more muscle. Louis spotted the carnation on the breast of his overcoat and could have slapped himself. How could he have thought Harry was the duke? This man’s suit and overcoat were custom fit for his body, the fabric looking sleek and expensive. Louis could only imagine how much it cost.

The man was more handsome than Louis expected and carried himself with ease. 

“Louis, my pet, this is Duke Cavill, one of your ardent admirers,” Simon said, simpering towards the duke. 

Louis held out his hand to be kissed surprised when the duke caught his wrist, turning it over.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Louis breathed out as the duke kissed his pulse point.

“The pleasure is all mine,” the duke said, and Louis shivered at the deep gravelly tone. 

“I shall let you two get acquainted,” Simon said, throwing Louis a meaningful glance. He was sure to have Louis report to him the next morning to assess his success or failure. 

Between one moment and the next Louis was alone with the duke, or almost alone as the thought of Harry in the cabinet niggled at the back of his mind. 

“Would you like some champagne, your grace?” he asked the duke, gesturing to the sweating glass bottle. 

The duke chuckled. “Please call me Henry, we stand on no ceremony here.”

Louis marveled at the competent grace this man had and couldn’t help but compare him to Harry. They were similar in looks it was true, but Louis wondered if the confidence he saw in Henry was ingrained into him as nobility. 

“Henry, would you like to sit down? Perhaps you’d like to sample one of the strawberries?” he asked.

Henry was watching Louis like a predator. Louis knew this look, had seen it so many times before.

“Louis can I be frank with you?” he asked, coming up to stand in front of him. Louis had to crane his head to look into his eyes. 

“Of course you can,” he whispered. 

Henry gazed down at him, the spark of desire in his eyes. 

“From the moment that I saw you perform, I knew that I wanted you to be mine. You are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen and your beauty only grows with each day. I hope that you will allow me to court you? So that we may better understand one another?”

Louis should automatically say yes. He knew this is what Simon had expected, the best result he could ever get. With a pang he realized he was comparing what Harry had said to him, about love. Isn’t this what he wanted? Henry was still talking. 

“Of course I know that this is sudden, I realize that you may want time to think about it,” he said.

“I don’t need time to think about it, I would love to get to know you better,” he answered honestly.

“May I kiss you?” Henry asked gently. 

Louis had expected the duke to just take what he wanted, and it was surprising that he even asked for Louis’ permission at all.

“Yes,” Louis answered before his face was cupped between Henry’s hands. There was a gentle pressure on his mouth, and then they were kissing. Louis never had any trouble kissing strangers since becoming the Sparkling Diamond, the most desired courtesan, he had to do it less and less. He thought that he would have no trouble with this duke, letting his tongue sleep between his teeth. The duke groaned deep in his throat, and Louis smirked inwardly. He was annoyed that he was still thinking of Harry, watching them from the armoire. Perhaps this would teach him a lesson about the merits of love and money. The duke broke the kiss to rest his head in the hollow of Louis’ throat. Louis was pressed up against the hardness of the duke’s body, clearly ready to give him more. 

“I’m afraid I’ve got you all riled up,” Louis murmured in Henry’s ear, stroking the crown of his head. Up close Henry was even bigger than Louis, his delicate body several inches shorter. 

The duke was breathing hard, but he broke away from nuzzling Louis’ neck to give him a small smile. 

“I truly wanted to go slow with you like you deserve. I want you to know that I desire more than just your body, although I desire that greatly.”

He let his large palm rest on the supple flesh of Louis’ derrière, squeezing a handful. 

Louis let out a breathy sigh. He would love to show the duke just exactly what he could do, but for some reason he couldn’t do it with Harry in the room. How could his feelings turns so intensely from one extreme to the next? He had just met both of these men and it already felt topsy turvy. 

“If you desire more than that milord, I will gladly give it to you, but perhaps we should speak of what you Mr. Cowell have discussed.” Louis said, fluidly. 

Henry let him go reluctantly, clearly wanting little else but to ravish him but he chuckled. 

Louis gave him a small smile and draped himself across the settee. 

“Simon has told you we are to put on a new production, yes?”

The duke was fiddling with the champagne glasses, easily opening the  bottle that had evaded Louis’ grasp. 

“Yes, but he hasn’t told me exactly what it is or who it’s by,” the duke said, plopping strawberries into the fizzing glasses. He made quite a stunning picture, his arm muscles straining against his crisp white shirt. Louis hesitated for a small moment knowing he would probably get scolded by Simon but ignored the small voice of warning in his head.

“There’s a new playwright that shows promise, I’ve heard he’s very talented. Perhaps you and Simon could speak with him about your new venture,” Louis said as Henry handed him a glass. 

His body was laid upon the settee giving the duke the best view of his corseted body. Louis bit his lip as the duke hovered over him. He felt so vulnerable with this man who held his future in his hands whether he knew it or not. It wasn’t like him to be this nervous. Even when he knew he was making a favorable impression. 

“Don’t those heels hurt?” Henry asked him, gesturing to the diamond banded pumps. Louis startled when Henry sat beside him on the settee, lifting his legs so that Louis was more or less on his lap. 

“I’ve gotten used to them,” Louis murmured, winding his arms around Henry’s neck. Louis found that cuddling rarely happened when he was with a client. Most of them were content to fuck and leave Louis afterwards, no sense of tenderness. This felt strangely tender. 

Henry undid the clasps of his shoes, setting them down on the aubergine colored carpet. Louis eyebrows shot up. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” Henry chuckled. “Now you’re even smaller.”

Louis rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Does that turn you on sir?” Louis said, knowing full well that it did when Henry’s eyes darkened. 

It was then that a thump was heard in the armoire. Louis froze. 

Henry looked up from the settee towards the place where Harry was currently hiding. 

“What was that?” he asked. 

Louis cast around his mind for an answer that wouldn’t endanger Harry.

“A cat!” Louis said. “There’s a cat that sometimes sneaks in here,” he tried to laugh lightheartedly. 

“It must be an awfully big cat,” Henry replied, with an eyebrow raise. Louis fake yawned, shifting his legs off of Henry’s lap.

“You know I am awfully tired. Do you think we could reconvene a few days hence in a more intimate setting?”

“You’d wear something more intimate than this?” Henry smirked, pulling Louis in so that his corseted torso was in line with his face. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” Louis said with his own answering smirk. 

Henry kissed his stomach, keeping his hands on Louis’ waist as he stood up. 

“I have no doubt about that,” he said.

Without his heels on he was indeed much smaller than Henry. It was something that he didn’t hide, his attraction to men that were bigger than him.

The duke took up his overcoat in one arm then stroked Louis’ face with his thumb. This close he smelled of amber and musk, a comforting scent that was different from Harry’s spicier scent.

“Until Thursday. I will send a carriage for you.”

The duke walked out, the door slowly clicking shut behind him.

Louis all but collapsed onto the settee. He hadn’t even sighed in relief when Harry sprang out of the armoire.  

He was scowling furiously. 

“That’s the duke you’re considering marrying?” he asked with a sneer. Louis had to fight the impulse to roll his eyes. 

“Yes, that is the handsome duke that is interested in me and jealousy doesn’t become you,” he said.

“You think you can love a man like that?” Harry asked, fists clenched at his sides. 

“Love? What does that have to do with anything? It’s not like the duke is abhorrent or ugly is it? I would be an investment for him and vice versa,” Louis said unable to keep the frustration out of his voice.

“How can you be so cavalier? This is your life,” Harry said, coming towards him.

“Yes it is. We just met Harry, and I did you a favor. The duke will talk to Simon tomorrow about your play. I took a chance on you, and I haven’t even heard what you’ve written.”

Louis startled when Harry reached for his hands.

“Tomorrow, come to my flat. I’ve been working non stop on the premise for the play. Niall and Zayn will be there too. You can hear for yourself what I’ve written,” he said. 

Louis hesitated. He was curious about the play, and he’d also never seen where Zayn lived.

“Alright….” he grudgingly accepted. 

Harry grinned, changing his expression from gloomy to ecstatic. Louis couldn’t help but smile back, charmed even though he shouldn’t be. 

“We’ll make a bohemian out of you yet,” Harry said.

“I very much doubt that you can change reality,” Louis answered him. Without his pumps, he was several inches shorter than Harry, even though Henry was taller. There was a vitality in Harry’s manner that Louis had never seen before. It was no wonder that he was friends with Niall and Zayn. 

“I’ll meet you in the cafe across the street tomorrow. I promise you won’t regret helping us,” Harry said intently. 

“Fine fine,” Louis muttered. He was already tidying up the room and sighing as he picked up the full champagne glasses, setting them on the low table. This was not how he expected the evening to go.

Louis watched Harry turn to leave out of the corner of his eye. He’d finally be able to sigh in relief when the other man left. 

Harry stood with his hand on the door knob, not turning it but waiting. He took a swift glance back at Louis before ending whatever internal struggle he had in his brain. He swept Louis into his arms, giving him a firm kiss. Louis was so surprised he couldn’t help but let out a whimper. It was like Harry knew all of the things he liked. A slip of his tongue and a large hand cupping his neck, thumbing at the soft skin. He was breathless when it ended. There was something so passionate about Harry, as if it was his very nature to burn everything he touched. Louis never had cause to be afraid of love or anything of the kind, but a warning was blooming like a flower in his mind. He had better watch his step. 

Harry was looking at him like he was precious. He shied away from his touch, dropping his eyes to the ground. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, cheri,” he said.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

After Harry left, Louis just wanted to sleep. There was so much to process and his feelings were in a tumult, but he still had to make his way back to his room. The Moulin Rouge was never quiet, there were gaps in activity, but it was after midnight now and there was still money to be made. The hours of darkness were the golden hours or so Simon called them. In order to get to his rooms, one of the only private ones he had to make his way thorough the small area dedicated to the other courtesans, their dressing rooms, their private rooms. He didn’t mind though. He had no enemies against the other courtesans for that he was grateful. To have allies in a profession where you sold your body, to have others that understood what you went through, Louis was lucky. 

He peered into the dressing room to see only a few girls still getting ready, some taking their makeup off. 

Taylor spotted him first. 

“Honey! Are you done already? Was the duke not very good in bed?” she asked, concern in her voice. 

Taylor was part of the Diamond Dogs group, but she also had her own nickname, Citrine: the Yellow Sapphire. She was a dancer like Louis but also formed part of the band, playing the piano whenever they needed her. Louis was finally able to relax with people that understood his dilemma. He couldn’t tell her about Harry, but he could talk about the duke. Taylor was poised in front of the mirror, fixing her makeup. She was taller than Louis, lithe and pretty. She raised an eyebrow at him as he came towards her. 

“Don’t tell me that outfit didn’t do anything for him, was he THAT old?” she asked, her voice husky with laughter. 

Louis grinned. “Actually it was the opposite, he was younger than I expected, I’d say just over thirty.” 

“Oh my and he still managed to resist temptation? He must have a will of iron,” she said.

All of the Diamond Dogs knew that Simon wanted Louis to marry the duke. He hadn’t been quiet with his ambitions, at least not within the moulin rouge.

“I wouldn’t have minded sleeping with him. I expected it would happen, but he was so polite, and he actually asked if he could court me,” Louis said, still amazed by this himself.

Taylor squealed. “That’s so romantic! He actually wants to make you a duchess. I bet he already has the wedding planned.”

Louis blushed. “I wouldn’t go that far…”

Taylor dabbed some perfume from a delicate bottle on her wrists and under her ears. The scent of magnolia wafted in the air. She turned to look at him. 

“You are far too modest, Louis. He only saw you perform once and he wanted to marry you,” she said coming over to rub his arms. 

“I guess I feel a little guilty like I don’t deserve it. I wish I was able to help all of you out of your contracts,” Louis said. 

Taylor made a sympathetic noise. “This is why you deserve it. You care too much about the rest of us, let that handsome man take care of you! Point him out to me next time when we perform. I want to get a good look,” she said, giving him a wink. 

Louis laughed. “Alright citrine why don’t you go strut your stuff,” he said as she gave him a quick hug. 

“I’m with a regular today, said he was going to bring me flowers,” Taylor rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“Doesn’t Leigh give you flowers every day?” he asked. He was stalling, thinking that Simon might be waiting for him near his corridor. 

Taylor’s face softened. “Yeah she does. And that’s why I love her. But flowers from a lover and flowers from a client are two different things. You’ll see next time lover boy comes around,” she said, sashaying towards the door.

“He’s not my lover yet!” he yelled at her, thinking not just of the duke but Harry as well. 

Louis decided to make a side trip to the kitchens feeling famished after  his interlude. He scooped up some bread and apples and wished he had more hands as he brewed his cup of tea.

Thankfully, Simon wasn’t waiting for him as he finally arrived at his room for which he was grateful. No doubt the second he stepped out of his room the next day he’d be accosted, but he pushed it from his mind. He could finally mull over the events of the night. He unhooked the black corset, his rib cage finally free to breathe deeply. Next came the heels and stockings. He rummaged around his small cupboard for his comfiest dressing gown not like the flimsy one he just discarded. His room was small but it was cozy with a small window seat he could just fit himself on. On any night he could sit and look out into the city that made him what he was. He had no enmity against it. He wondered where he would be today if Simon hadn’t found him. Would he exist as he was this moment?

His favorite time of the night when he wasn’t performing was on nights like this, to see the night waken and wane, drift into the silence of the early morning. He opened the window a bit so the slightly cool air could drift in. He clutched his mug to his chest, inhaling the fragrant smell of tea. As much as he loved singing and dancing, sometimes he just ached to be himself. Not the Sparkling Diamond, not a courtesan, just Louis. Performing was in his blood, but he yearned to be taken seriously as an actor. It seemed like it all lay before him. Marry the duke, successfully save the Moulin Rouge, be able to perform in the famous theaters of Paris and beyond. Then why did it seem to him that he was torn. He couldn’t put all the blame on Harry, and although he was loathe to admit it, his words had rattled him. Zayn always talked about the Bohemian Revolution so Louis was unable to decipher why Harry spouting off his beliefs had shaken his resolve. It was something about the way Harry’s eyes sparkled, how he had really looked at Louis beyond his station and what he was wearing. Louis didn’t get to be one of the most popular courtesans without knowing what men wanted, and yet with Harry it had seemed different. He’d lost track of the last time a man had wanted conversation with him and nothing else. He knew that even the Duke expected something from him. 

He sighed and rested his head on the smooth wall behind him. No matter how he felt, his choice was already made for him. He wouldn’t deviate from his path knowing that he could purchase his and Zayn’s freedom by marrying a rich man. And the duke had seemed kind, even a little shy. He didn’t see marrying him as some type of hardship, but what about Harry? Louis was not a romantic at heart, had lived through such turbulent times, but secretly he wondered…did love at first sight exist? Or was it just attraction? He munched quietly on his bread and apples, pondering his unique problem. Harry seemed like the jealous type, not good at all for a relationship with a courtesan.
Even though Louis knew it was all just business, those relationships rarely lasted long. He thought about Taylor and Leigh-Anne, how they were both working in the same profession and yet having to sleep with men that only wanted to possess their bodies. He was thankful they had each other but how hard must it be to know exactly what your lover had to go through just to make a living. He felt no moral compunction about what they did, there was nothing wrong in it, but he wished everyone had a choice in what they could do. If only Harry could see into his thoughts, maybe they weren’t so different as he had supposed.

He decided that he would keep his word and meet Harry and his friends. If he knew more about the play it would be easier to convince Simon. Zayn seemed caught up in it too which made him curious to know why he felt that way. He didn’t know why he felt strangely about it.Harry’s play would run in the fall, and then he would be gone. He would use the Moulin Rouge just like everyone else, just for a different purpose. 

Louis sighed and shut the window, locking it. He placed his empty tea cup on the set and shuffled towards the bed.  He knew sleep wouldn’t come easy, but he was longing to lose himself just for awhile.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Louis was called into Simon’s office the next day just as he had predicted. He had woken up rather early thinking he could get some dancing and stretching in while the building was mostly asleep. He changed into his worn dance leggings and leotard, knowing there were towels to be found in the dancing space. The Moulin Rouge was bigger than expected, but rehearsal space was small just like the rooms tended to be excluding the pricier ones. He frowned at his worn dance flats, he really should get another pair. He felt loath to spend money, but he figured it would be worth it. The cramped studio used for training the dancers had full length mirrors on both sides, with a barre and a cupboard of threadbare towels. Two long windows were perched at the top of the room, and Louis smiled at the bright sunlight beating haloing everything in a soft light. He loved this kind of morning, he had so much excess energy and worries to burn off. 

He started with plies and squats, holding himself with precision at the barre. Dancing was such a fluid expression, he felt liquid and warm. There was nothing like it for banishing cares away. He pretended he was dancing with an orchestra, he jumped to a crescendo, he glided through a waltz. 

“You make dancing look so easy,” he heard a voice echo in the room. 

He stopped and grinned. Leigh Anne was propped in the doorway, a look of admiration on her face. 

“You say that as if you weren’t better than me,” Louis teased, coming to a full stop, arms in a graceful arc. 

Leigh Anne was in fact one of the best dancers the Moulin Rouge had ever produced. Louis didn’t know much about her background before she came to work at the Moulin Rouge. He didn’t pry, but he wondered if she’d been classically trained. She was just as tall and lithe as Taylor which made them a stunning pair. Her skin was dark and smooth, and her eyes sparkled.

“We’ve danced together before and I’d say we’re pretty equal although you may be right,” she winked. They had meticulously created a routine for them both in years past, both of them performing twin like motions and jumps until Simon decided to devote more time to single dances and performances. 

“I miss doing those,” Louis said. “I wish Simon would let us dance in groups again.” 

“Ah, but where would he be without the Sparkling Diamond,” she said, brow raised.

Louis winced. He knew Leigh Anne didn’t mean for it to sting but it did.

She noticed the expression and her face softened.

“I know that’s unjust, I’m sorry Lou. I just hate that Simon is using you like this. He should be able to find a way out of his own problems without relying on you.” 

Louis sighed, his exuberant mood gone like fog dissipating in the morning sun. 

“That’s why I came to look for you. Simon is waiting in his office for you,” she said, carefully watching his face. 

“Thanks Leigh. I’ll go right away,” he said, toweling off the light sheen of sweat he’d acquired. 

“You could always try and refuse his plan,” she said, sounding like she knew what would happen if he did.

“I can’t do that,” he said, walking towards her. He shut the door to the studio behind them and looked her in the eyes. 

“I’m doing this for all of us, and that includes you and Taylor,” he said, no lingering doubt in his voice. 

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so damn noble,” she said, but he could see the slight glossiness of her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. 

“Just be careful,” she whispered to him. 

“I’m always careful,” he whispered back.

They parted ways as Louis had to walk in the opposite direction to get to Simon’s office. It was one of the bigger rooms which housed both his private residence and his office. Louis tentatively knocked on the gleaming glass door and stuck his head in. 

“Ah there you are my petal,” Simon said, waving him in from where he sat smoking a cigar. Louis’ nose wrinkled at the smell. The interior of Simon’s office was filled with smoke. He must be stressed if he’s smoking this much, Louis mused to himself. 

He seated himself in front of Simon’s mahogany desk, in a cushy chair made of velvet and dark wood. 

Simon looked at him intently, smoke puffing out of his mouth. 

“So tell me did you secure the duke?” he asked abruptly. 

Well, that was right to the point. 

“He told me that he wants to court me. He’s picking me up on Thursday to be taken to his private residence for dinner,” Louis recited, hoping this interrogation would be over soon. 

“Very good and did you fuck him?” Simon asked plainly. 

“No, I did not, but I think he has plans for something like that the next evening I see him,” Louis said. 

“Was he not eager?” Simon mused.

“He was, but I think he would prefer if we were truly alone,” Louis answered. 

“Everything is going so well.” Simon grinned. Unlike some people, Simon didn’t look better smiling. Louis decided to press his luck. 

“I think there’s one thing that could go better….”

Simon’s brow furrowed. “Go on,” he said, gesturing with his meaty hands.

“I happen to have discovered a playwright who wants us to take a chance on something he’s written. I’m meeting with him tonight to get a look at the script, but I think it’s something you’ll be interested in. And you know the Duke was interested in new blood for the theatre,” Louis said, hoping whatever Harry had written was worth this high praise. 

“I did fire the last playwright, and the summer season will be upon us soon. See if this writer can come up with something to show me soon.” 

Louis sighed inwardly in relief, that was one battle won. 

“I’ll do that. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

Simon leaned forward in his chair, chin resting on his hand. “I don’t need to remind you how important this new venture is. I expect you to give the Duke everything he wants. If he wants to court you, fine, but the end result needs to be the same. We need this duke’s capital.” 

Louis wondered if this was all he had ever been to Simon, a bargaining chip. He was the queen on the chessboard of Simon’s game, and he had to play to win his freedom. 

He gave Simon a sickly sweet smile. “Don’t worry. I know exactly what I need to do.” 

After he left Simon’s office, he was hit with an overwhelming need to see Zayn. He was probably still asleep, but perhaps could be lured out of his bedroom with some sweet biscuits fresh from the kitchen. Louis stopped by his room to change into a soft pink wrap and worn leggings. He wouldn’t have to worry about changing into his stage costumes until hours later. He enjoyed the soft fabric and how it clung to his curves. 

Zayn’s room was in the main corridor with all the other dancers. Some of them shared rooms, but Zayn had one all to himself. It was slightly smaller than Louis’ but messier. His door was rarely locked so he gently knocked on the peeling painted door. There was no answer so he peaked in seeing a blanketed blob on the bed, the windows were shut so it was heavily dark. 

“Zayn, wake up! I need to talk to you,” Louis whispered. He crept over to the edge of the bed and poked the breathing lump. There was an audible response that Louis couldn’t even hope to translate. 

“I brought you some biscuits.” Louis waved the sweet smelling biscuits over the expanse of blankets. Zayn finally popped his head out. 

“There better be a good reason for waking me up,” he said grumpily. How Zayn managed to look good even with his hair sticking up every which way was a mystery to Louis. He walked over to the curtains and pulled them back letting in the bright sunshine. Zayn groaned behind him.

“I want to ask you about your revolutionary friends, the ones that are into this whole bohemian thing,” Louis said. 

Zayn was already into his second biscuit, not caring about crumbs.

He squinted at Louis. “You never want to hear about this stuff,” he said suspiciously. 

“Yes, well this was before your Niall set me up with his friend Harry and I thought he was the duke!”

He had only meant to ask about Harry obliquely but now that it was out in the open, he wanted Zayn’s reaction.

“Wait you thought HARRY was the duke? Did you even meet the real duke? Why didn’t you come find me?” Zayn’s eyes were wide as an owl’s. 

“It happened so quickly I barely knew what I was doing,” Louis said, sitting down on the bed. “But I did meet the real duke right after Harry.”

Zayn was looking at him critically. 

“What’s bothering you? Is it something Harry said or something the duke did?” he asked. 

Louis smoothed the fabric of the bedcover with his hand. The problem was he didn’t know how to articulate what he was feeling.

“I told Harry that I would recommend him for the new playwright position, and I’m meeting him tonight to go over it. I think Niall will be there too maybe some of his other friends. I was hoping you’d come,” Louis said. 

“Of course I’ll come, I’m surprised Niall didn’t mention it to me, he’s always trying to get me to visit,” Zayn said, guilelessly 

“I bet he is,” Louis teased. 

“If you hadn’t have brought me biscuits I’d push you off the bed.”

“Sure you would. So what’s Harry’s deal? You’ve met him right?”

“It’s funny that you want to talk about Harry and not the duke,” Zayn said, covering himself up with the blankets. The four biscuits were gone. 

“It’s just I know where I am with the duke, I know what I have to do, but Harry is so…interesting”

“I would warn you to be careful but I’m sure you already know to be.” 

Louis looked at him then. “Careful of what? Falling in love? You know I won’t do that.” 

“The heart wants what it wants Lou. Sometimes it just happens, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Louis heart clenched. 

“I just met him Zayn. I won’t deny that I felt an attraction to him, but I know what I have to do,” he said.

Zayn reached for his hand which Louis placed in his palm. 

“I know that Simon is pushing you to marry the duke. I also know that you deserve happiness. I just don’t want you to be tangled in between both of those desires.” 

“Things can never be simple, can they,” Louis said. He knew part of the reason Zayn was warning him was because he was in the same situation. He could never hope to be with Niall while he was still under contract.

“Just come with me tonight, you can see where Niall lives. I hope Harry is as good of a writer as he says. He seems to have a big ego.”

“Probably not the only thing that’s big, eh?” Zayn smirked. Louis hit him with a pillow.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Louis didn’t have another performance until Friday night, although Zayn was still stuck dancing until before they were to meet Harry and Niall at the cafe. Zayn hadn’t bothered to wipe the glitter off of his face before meeting Louis outside.

“Good night?” Louis asked, delicate eyebrow raised at Zayn’s appearance. “Oh you know the usual drunken sods trying to pinch my bum along with someone throwing glitter in the air, got everywhere,” Zayn answered.

Outside the Moulin Rouge was bustling. It was almost always busy, except for the early mornings before the dawn. Now was the time for midnight liaisons and secrets in the dark. This was the time of the Moulin Rouge. He saw Niall and Harry pacing outside the cafe, looking anxious. 

Harry smiled as they came closer. “I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to show up,” Harry admitted, and then Louis was being scooped up in a warm embrace. It was pleasant, a warm feeling spread throughout Louis’ heart. He was aware of Zayn observing him so he awkwardly pat Harry on the back. Niall coughed. 

“Oh yes, Louis, this is Niall Horan, friend of the bohemian revolution!”

“That’s quite a title,” Louis said, shaking the blonde’s hand. 

“Nice ta meet ya. Harry tells me you’ve advocated for our play.” 

Louis had only seen Niall from afar and from Simons observations but he didn’t seem as dissolute as he’d implied. 

“Well I’m very curious to hear it,” Louis said. 

“You mean he didn’t read you any part of it?” Niall asked. 

“He recited some poetry but not from your play,” Louis answered. 

“Poetry, hmm?” Zayn smirked. Louis refused to comment or meet his eyes. “Well, let’s be on your way then!” Harry said brightly. 

The block of flats they were led to was near the heart of the art district. There were many people milling about, hawking their wares. Less than professional whores were out cat calling and offering their services. Louis shivered thinking that he could have turned out on the street. It was a feeling he didn’t like to remember, but his heart also ached for those less fortunate. The apartment that belonged to Niall and Harry was one massive floor at the top of a semi crumbing building. It wasn’t a bad space, in fact, Louis liked it immediately despite the peeling paint and mismatched furniture. They were on the outskirts of town, a few miles from where the Moulin Rouge was located. There were papers and art supplies all over the floor along with clothes, wine bottles, stray boxing gloves. 

Louis peered at them curiously. “Do you box?” he asked Harry, pointing towards them. “Ah those belong to Liam, who sometimes stays here. He boxes for extra money, but he’s been teaching me some things so that I can too, if it comes to that.”

“You mean if your play isn’t a success,” Louis said shrewdly 

Harry shrugged, a piece of hair falling into his eyes. Louis almost reached out to push it back but hesitated. 

“I like to think I’m good with my hands,” he said. Instead of laughing it off, Louis came closer to Harry, hand finding his bicep lightly squeezing it. 

“I’m sure you are,” he said, biting his lip. 

A series of coughs broke up the heated atmosphere. 

“You realize both of us are in the room too,” Zayn said, shaking his head. Louis felt this was directed towards him. Niall was grinning. 

“Whatever. Show us what you’ve written,” Louis said, feeling annoyed by his own behavior. 

Louis and Zayn sat on a sagging couch while Niall and Harry gathered their papers. 

“So this play is about love,” Harry started out. “About the ideals of the Bohemian Revolution. Truth, Beauty, Love, Freedom. The reasons for living, the death of the upper classes, equality!” 

Louis took a side place at Zayn. Did he really believe in all of this? 

“The core of the play is a forbidden love between a high class noble and a petty criminal set in medieval Europe.” 

“So basically Romeo and Juliet?” Louis said. 

The pair in front of him scoffed. 

“No, Louis,” Harry said, gaining momentum with his speech, “it’s a love story that isn’t doomed. It’s a forbidden love that conquers class privilege, that proves love is all you need.” 

Louis shifted in his seat, tilting his head. 

“And what happens after they pledge undying love? How do they put food on the table? What if the noble can’t stand living on the street, poor and desolate? What then?” Louis asked.

“You’re being too realistic for them, Lou,” Zayn said.

Harry looked passionate, or perhaps like he was on the verge of madness. 

“There is no barrier when it comes to love. When you feel it in your bones, when it calls to you in the middle of the night because you can’t stop thinking about that one person,” he said quietly. 

It was not often that Louis felt out of place but he did then. In that beautifully shabby, candle lit room, with wax puddles forming on the ground, he felt that he was on a different plane of existence than Harry. How could they be so alike and yet so dissimilar. 

“Just tell us more about the play. I have a meeting with the duke tomorrow, and I plan to tell him what we have in store,” Louis said.

Harry’s expression soured, but Niall looked excited. 

“Did you talk to Mr. Cowell? Did he accept the offer?” 

Louis wasn’t sure if he was talking about the play or Simon’s offer to the duke for Louis, but he erred on the side of caution. 

“He wants to see you both and a written copy. If he agrees, then you will be part of the production and may have a say in who plays which part.” 

Louis already knew he would probably get the starring role, even if he didn’t want it. The last production that the Sparkling Diamond was a part of? Simon wouldn’t let that go.

“Do you notice he’s always staring at you or are you immune?” Zayn asked, jostling him on the couch. 

Louis had no need to ask to whom he was referring, Harry was looking at him again. It was like Louis was water and Harry was a drowning man. Louis was used to people looking at him, roving over his figure with their eyes, but he wasn’t used to such probing looks as if Harry knew all his inner thoughts and desires. 

“Trust me I notice,” he muttered back to Zayn.

Niall was pacing about excitedly, pulling papers from everywhere.

“If we have a meeting with Simon, we have to do it right. Harry, this is

our chance! Think about the packed audience! If it’s popular we can use this success to springboard our other works! The ideals of the revolution! And to think you and I are the authors and not some rich arseholes that have never done a days work in their lives!” Niall went on in this way, his accent getting thicker with every word. Louis noticed that Harry didn’t seem as emphatic as he did before and wondered why. 

“This calls for a drink!” Niall finally ended his rant, amping into the small cramped kitchen. From Louis’ viewpoint, it seemed there were only liquor bottles and dirty dishes. Zayn was looking at Niall with a soft smile. Louis had never seen him look at anyone that way before. Before he could think about it further, he felt a large hand tug him up from where he was sitting on the couch. Startled, his hand flew to Harry’s bicep. 

“Can we talk in private?” Harry asked him furtively. 

“I-“ Louis began and looked to Zayn for assistance. 

“I think Niall and I will go out for a drink. Just remember what we talked about,” Zayn answered him. Ugh, he was no help at all. He heard Niall grumbling about how there was no alcohol in the flat.

 “I suppose we can talk in private,” he said. Louis allowed himself to be pulled away into what he assumed was Harry’s room down a short corridor. It was colder in here, away from the plethora of candles lit in the living area. Louis shivered. He heard the flat door open and then slam shut, signaling that Niall and Zayn had left.

Harry’s room was small but it was cozier than he expected. The bed took up most of the space but there was a room length window that led to a tiny balcony. He could see the glimmering lights of the city and thought how beautiful it must look during the day too. There was a small desk shoved into the corner with a beautiful gleaming typewriter on top. 

“So this is where the magic happens,” Louis said, running his hand over the typewriter keys. 

“Not all of it.” Harry winked. Louis shook his head.

“Has anyone ever called you insufferable? Because you are.” 

“Is that code for irresistible?” Harry asked.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Louis asked. He didn’t want to get comfortable here, although it was comfy, although he wanted things that he couldn’t. Being alone again with Harry was like a drug. He was drawn to him for some reason, moth to a flame. To feel this way about someone so quickly scared him. Harry sighed and shrugged out of his overcoat. He was wearing a completely different ensemble than he had the first time they had met. He was wearing worn trousers with hard edged boots and a baggy vest with nothing underneath. Louis could see the toned muscles and smooth skin and felt like he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“See something you like?” Harry asked when Louis eyes flew to meet his.

“Just tell me what you wanted to talk to me in private,” Louis said, again annoyed at the turn his thoughts had taken. He was a courtesan for god’s sake. He’s slept with all manner of men, been fucked every which way, taken again and again until his body gave out and still, he felt nervous around this man. 

“I just want to make sure you’re ok with this. I assume that Simon will give you the lead role. It’s a big opportunity for us but if you don’t want to do it, if it’s going to hurt your chances with the duke…” Harry’s voice trailed off. 

“I thought you didn’t like the duke?” Louis asked, puzzled. 

Harry came close to him, the moonlight and cityscape projected onto his face. He lifted his hand to caress Louis’ cheek. 

“I think you know that I hate the man already. That he gets the chance to court you, that all he has to do is ask and he’ll whisk you away. Louis, I’ve just met you and yet I feel like I’ve known you forever. I know that you don’t believe in love at first sight but it’s how I feel, and I know you feel some sort of connection too.” 

Louis was breathless. Harry lowered his forehead so that it touched his.

“I know I shouldn’t ask this of you, but I can’t help myself. I see you and all I want to do is hold you, touch you.” Louis felt his heart begin to thaw.

“I don’t believe in love,” Louis whispered, looking up into Harry’s eyes.

“I know,” Harry replied and then, they were kissing. 

Harry kissed like a force of nature, like this was their first and last moment together. Louis was swept up by an unknown emotion. It had been so long since he’d been kissed just because. It was then that Louis understood why he reacted so strongly to Harry. Somehow Harry had seen through his armor, and that was the heart of it all. He had seen Louis as a person and not just an object to be gained. 

He broke the kiss reluctantly. Harry was nuzzling into his neck, bending down to meet him. 

“I can’t be faithful to you if that’s what you’re after. You know the duke has promised to court me,” he said bluntly.

“I know,” Harry said roughly. 

Louis led them to sit on the bed. He had to be blunt with Harry, he couldn’t let his emotions blind him from the truth.

“Do you want to start something we both know we can’t finish?” Louis whispered.

“I don’t think I could bear not knowing. You’re all I can think about. I don’t know if I can live without touching you,” Harry said. 

“There is something about you…” Louis admitted. His hands smoothed the coverlet down. 

“I don’t believe in love and I don’t believe that this was made to last, but I can’t help myself,” Louis said, avoiding eye contact. If he pretended he felt nothing, it was easier to feel as if nothing bad would happen, that there wasn’t a clock already winding down towards the end. 

“Can I have you, Louis?” Harry asked, although it didn’t sound like a question. 

“You can have me,” Louis said simply, knowing as he said it his fate was sealed. Something irrevocable had already taken place. There was no turning back even if he wanted to.

There was no hesitation on Harry’s part as he leaned towards Louis’ body, they were in an orbit of their own making. 

Harry kissed him and his hesitancy and doubt dissolved. He threw his arms around the taller man’s neck. Harry threw back the covers and continued to kiss Louis all over, his neck, his cheek, his eyelids. 

Louis giggled as his rough stubble tickled where his neck met his shoulder. 

Harry stopped his attentions and watched him with warm eyes. “Something funny?” he asked, brow raised. 

Every part of Louis was burning but he also felt curiously light. 

“No it’s just…I’m happy to be with you on the same page. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone that isn’t paying for it,” he said honestly. Harry’s expression saddened.

“You deserve to be worshipped,” he said, shrugging off his vest. Now that his shirt was gone, Louis was left to stare at the expanse of unblemished skin, slightly tanned. 

“Wow you really weren’t lying about boxing were you?” Louis said, reaching both of his hands to touch his toned stomach, marveling at the muscles. 

“Did you think I was baby?” Harry asked in an annoyingly cocky voice.

“I think you have a big ego,” Louis said, trying to sound unaffected. 

“That’s not the only big thing,” Harry said, his length hardening and pressing against Louis’ own softer stomach. Louis was already breathless. He’d taken bigger than Harry before but he loved it. He loved the thickness and the girth, the thought that it would be in him soon had him breathless with want.

“C’mon,” Harry said impatiently, trying to hurry Louis out of his clothes. 

Louis sat up a bit to shrug off his blouse, leaving Harry to tug off his and Louis’ trousers.

“Oh baby these are so pretty.” 

Louis startled when Harry’s large hands came to rest on his ass. Louis had been wearing panties for so long, it no longer came as any surprise to him when men discovered his penchant for wearing them, and Harry was no different.

“Like what you see?” Louis asked, sliding further under Harry’s body, which was gloriously naked.

“ Ton corps est un paradis, cheri, ” Harry said, kissing down the length of Louis’ body. 

“When do you see the duke again,” Harry asked. 

“What?” Louis was hoping there would be less talking, and who could think of the duke when Harry was seconds away from being in him. 

“I want him to see what I did to you, I want him to see my marks on your skin knowing you were with me,” Harry said, biting down on Louis’ stomach and then soothing the ache with his tongue. 

“Harry…” Louis breathed out. 

“Thats right say MY name, angel,” Harry said as he flipped Louis so that his ass was in the air. 

“I’m gonna eat you out, and then I’m gonna fuck you, amour.” 

“Less talking, more fucking, unless talk is all you're good for,” Louis goaded. 

He jolted up the bed as Harry kneaded his ass with his hands. He could feel Harry’s eyes on his ass, his fingers prodding at his entrance. Louis moaned at the sensation of Harry’s fingers. 

“Je pense que nous savons tous les deux que je ne parle pas tous bébé,” Harry said smugly. Before Louis could say anything back, Harry was licking into him, pushing the dainty fabric of his panties aside. 

One of his favorite things was being eaten out, and Harry treated it like an art. Louis was loud in bed unless a client wanted him quiet, but this was just for Louis’ pleasure. He tried reaching down to take his small cock in hand, but Harry pinned him down with his body. 

His face was in the duvet, sweat beginning to gather at his temples. 

Harry’s fingers were long and dexterous, Louis was losing his mind at the sensation. Harry licked into his perineum, getting him wetter and wetter, spreading his fingers out. His scruff was going to leave marks on his ass, and Louis loved the thought of it. 

“Please, I don’t want to come before you’re in me,” Louis pleaded. He tried to crane his neck back to reason with him, trying to move him. 

Harry’s eyes met his as he continued to lick him out. 

Louis was begging now, words slurring, almost unintelligible. 

“Please please please,” he said, a litany of begging. 

“Hold on baby I’ll give you what you want,” Harry said, kissing Louis’ hole before letting the fabric of the panties snap back into place. He got up from the bed, and Louis whimpered. 

“Sweetheart, just let me just get the oil.” He began to rummage around the drawer. 

Louis flipped so that he was on his back once again. His prick was weeping, he hoped that he wouldn’t come as soon as Harry was inside. Harry apparently found what he was looking for because one moment to the next, he was standing at the side of the bed, palming at his own cock while watching Louis’. 

Louis raised himself up onto his knees, eying the massive length in front of him. 

“You’re very well endowed,” he simpered, reaching out to put his hand over Harry’s, moving them in unison. 

“So I’ve been told,” Harry said, smirking. There was nothing that Louis wanted more in the world than Harry’s dick in his mouth. He slid down in front of Harry with no persuasion needed.

“I thought you wanted to get fucked, baby,” Harry said, stroking his thumb at Louis’ lower lip. 

“I do, but I want you to fuck my mouth first,” Louis said, bringing Harry’s hips closer. 

Louis prided himself on his ability to deep throat, he liked the weight and the heft of a cock, to feel it choking him. 

Harry’s hips stuttered above him, and Louis preened internally. The weight of Harry’s dick was big, not the biggest he’d ever taken but enough that he was filled by it all. He could tell Harry was getting close, he cradled Harry’s balls between one hand while the other was gripping Harry’s hip. 

“Baby, you gotta stop or I’m going to come and I want to come in you,” Harry said breathlessly. Louis let go with a soft pop, almost pouting. Harry laughed at his mulish expression. 

“You’ll get what you want, baby, I’ll make sure of that.”

He dipped two of his fingers in oil coating them. He slipped them behind Louis, holding his gaze the whole time. Louis’ lost his breath as Harry’s fingers entered him. The pressure against his prostate had him chanting Harry’s name. 

“Hurry up,” he mumbled, trying to get Harry to go faster. Two fingers entered inside him bluntly, Harry’s other hand coming up to brush Louis nipple, featherlight. He hissed while Harry gave him a smug grin. “You’re calling me a tease but you won’t even give it to me like I ask,” Louis said, his body unable to stop moving. 

“I don’t hear you begging yet,” Harry said. 

Louis didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he wanted to get fucked. He wanted to prove to Harry that sex was just sex, but he felt strangely in tune with Harry more so than any man he had slept with.

“What do you like, sweetheart?” Harry asked, lips skimming up Louis’ neck.

“Whatever you want,” Louis answered. 

Harry stopped moving his fingers inside him, now three. Louis groaned. “Why did you stop?” he demanded. 

“I asked you a question, give me a real answer,” Harry said, punctuating it with another jab to his prostate. 

Louis opened his mouth to speak

“And NOT the answer you think I want to hear. What do you want?” Harry asked, refusing to move now.

Louis paused for a moment. He usually went with the flow of what men wanted from him. He had been spanked, tied up, fucked sideways, on his knees, up against the wall. It wasn’t like him to talk about his personal pleasure, even when he was alone. He couldn’t remember if anyone had ever asked him before. He tried to keep the seriousness out of his voice. “I think I just want to feel you deep inside me, face to face like this. And I want you to be here in the morning when I wake up.” 

If he was going to have something with Harry, this is the memory he wanted to keep forever, something he could return to. 

Perhaps he wasn’t as successful as he thought at hiding his emotions because Harry’s face softened, his eyes burning with understanding.

He resumed fingering him, kissing his eyelids which made Louis want to cry. The act of tenderness was too much. 

“C’mon Harry, give me what I want,” he goaded. Harry didn’t say anything much to Louis’ chagrin, but finally he was poised above him. He managed to slide on a condom in the time it took for Louis to bring their mouths together. Harry breached his hole slowly, Louis felt like he was going to be split open. 

“You’re big,” he slurred as Harry struggled not to fuck into him too fast. He was muttering French obscenities into Louis’ skin. Sweat pooled at his collarbones and finally, Harry was in. 

“God baby you feel so good, you’re so tight,” Harry said as he moved in him. 

“Faster,” Louis pleaded, grasping onto Harry’s back, drawing lines with his fingernails, hoping they would leave marks. 

“I’m not gonna last,” Harry said, his hips stuttering. Louis felt the same, he didn’t know what was happening but Harry was fucking him exactly like he wanted to be fucked. He was being jostled up the bed, his body as close to Harry’s as he could get.

“I love how you feel, love that I get to do this with you,” Harry whispered into Louis’ neck. He was pistoning his hips almost to the point where it was painful, but it still felt good. Harry came first and released into the condom. Louis gasped and came with him, shuddering. 

“Can I stay in you forever?” Harry murmured, not making any attempt to move. 

“That would be bad for business, darlin’,” Louis slurred, still shaken and pleasantly sore. 

Harry huffed out a laugh and pulled out. 

“Would love to come in you bare one day, if you let me,” Harry said, smoothing down Louis’ side.

Louis couldn’t help the jolt he felt at the idea, he had never let anyone come in him bare. 

“Just think about it,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Louis, lips at the back of his neck as they lay together. 

“Harry, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I think we should keep what we’re doing a secret,” he spoke into the still and silent room. 

He felt Harry still behind him and turned to face him. Harry’s gaze was intense and his brow furrowed. 

“It’s not because I’m embarrassed of us if that’s what you think. It’s just everything with Simon and the duke. I think we should play it safe, that is if you want to see me again,” Louis said quietly.

“I think you know the answer to that question,” Harry said, quirking an eyebrow. Louis smiled and turned back around to burrow his face in the pillow. Harry said that now but would he still feel the same when things got harder? He heard Harry fall asleep while he was awake, his worries keeping him company.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Louis and Zayn left Harry and Niall’s place to make it back to the Moulin Rouge. Zayn had to dance that night while Louis was going to meet the duke. 

“You seem different,” Zayn said quietly. 

Louis groaned internally. He didn’t want to have this conversation at all. The streets were teeming with people, the carriages were clattering over cobblestones. Louis could spot the factory smoke in the air, their own cumulous cloud. He breathed in deep, this was his home. This was what he knew. 

“I’m a little scared,” he admitted. If there was anyone he could talk to, it was Zayn. 

“Scared of what?” Zayn asked, concern in his voice. 

It was hard to hold a conversation in the city, not only was it hard to hear but pickpockets were like fleas in a barrel. You had to keep a constant watch on your purse strings. 

Louis grabbed Zayn’s hand and pulled him along the rest of the way. They could talk once they got inside. It was easy to get inside the Moulin Rouge since they were employees, the bouncers knew all of the dancers, they doubled as bodyguards during the evening. 

Louis saw Joni guarding one of the side entrances and pulled them through. 

“Good afternoon, gentleman,” Joni said with a small smile he only permitted in Louis presence. 

“Hello Joni, let us in please we need to get ready!”  Loius sang out. 

“I heard that you have an evening planned with your duke,” Joni said, opening the door, one beefy arm out. 

“He’s not my duke yet,” Louis said mischievously.  

Louis and Zayn went up the back stairs towards Louis’ dressing room. 

“Come on Lou, tell me. You’re alright aren’t you?” Zayn asked, finally collapsing near Louis’ dressing table. 

“Hmm, I see you and your Irish friend had quite a time,” Louis said, pointing towards a bite mark on Zayn’s skin. Zayn flushed. 

“I could say the same thing for you, I thought you weren’t going to fall for him,” Zayn accused. 

“I haven’t FALLEN for anyone,” Louis said, straightening towards the mirror. Harry really did leave some marks. 

“I’m going to have to cover these up,” Louis said, slightly disappointed.

Zayn was looking at him imploringly. 

“Alright, what I was saying outside was that I’m afraid that I won’t fit in with the duke’s idea of a refined person. I’m not from his world, I don’t know which fork goes with which dish. Everything that I am, I owe to the Moulin Rouge. What if I’m not enough? I’m afraid that I like Harry more than I can admit, even to myself,” Louis let his words flow, trying not to notice what his friends reaction was.

“Louis, I know I’ve told you this before but have you ever thought about defying Simon?”

“I can’t disobey Simon, I owe him,” Louis said

“He didn’t make you a good person, Louis. You are a good person. You are good enough for a duke, for anyone who loves you.”

“It’s just that I know what I have to do, what I should do. I want to be onstage, I want to be taken seriously as a performer, not just sleeping with men to get by or being on this stage. Those are my dreams, Zayn. I don’t want to throw them away. And even though I just met Harry, I feel some connection with him. And I know it’s a bad idea, but you can’t tell anyone!” 

Zayn began to protest, but Louis shushed him. 

“Just hear me out before I lose my nerve. I know that being with Harry, seeing him, I know that it’s a terrible idea, but I can’t stop myself even when I know it’s not going to end well. But marrying the duke, that will solve all of our problems. I can help you, and I can help Harry and Niall but it will be different…” Louis let his voice trail off. 

Zayn looked pensive. 

“Well I’m not exactly sure what you want me to say, Lou. You know I’m all about love and freedom, and I think this is what you should experience, but I also think you should be cautious. You know your own heart better than anyone, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Louis thinks at this point, it’s inevitable. He was going to get hurt, and probably by Harry or his own feelings.

“You know you’ll have the duke eating out of your hand if that’s what you’re worried about,” Zayn said. 

“And how would you know that?”

Zayn fixed him with a sardonic expression. 

“Louis, he wanted to court you without even talking to you. Do you really think he’d say no to anything you want? He’ll approve the play, you only have to ask,” he said.

“Do you ever feel bad about what we do?” Louis asked him.  

Zayn raised his delicate brow. “You mean being a dancer or being a whore?”

Louis winced even though he heard it before on the streets, even from clients, it stung coming from Zayn. 

“I don’t think of it as whoring, it’s how we live. And you know as well as I that it could be worse, but I understand where you’re coming from. How can we expect to be trusted in a relationship? But that’s the nature of trust, Lou. You have to have faith in someone. Just because we sell our bodies it doesn’t make us bad or wrong.” 

Louis wanted to scoff about trust but what Zayn said made sense.

“I guess I’m just nervous. I’ve never had nobility seriously interested in me.” 

“I think it’s a first for the Moulin Rouge, but who could blame him. You’re a diamond of the first water.”

“Diamond in the rough maybe.”

Zayn laughed. “You can never take a compliment, can you?” 

“Says the Greek god before me,” Louis teased, but he meant it. Zayn was perhaps the most beautiful person inside and out. It’s part of the reason why Louis felt compelled to marry the duke. He wanted to make things better for everyone he loved. If he had the power, shouldn’t he use it for good?

“Did you sleep with Harry?” Zayn asked bluntly. 

Louis was rummaging through his vanity for his cosmetics and he stilled. 

“Yes,” he answered quietly 

Zayn groaned. “You slept with him just because you wanted to with no money attached right? Are you sure you won’t get too attached?”

Louis smiled bitterly. “There’s no future for me and Harry. Even if his play is a success, he’ll barely make any money off of it once Simon is through with it. It’s just a passing fancy. I doubt he’ll even look at me once I’m with the duke.” 

“I don't know…Harry seems the monogamous type to me, he’s very passionate about things he loves.” 

“Ugh don’t lecture me Zayn. I feel bad enough already.”

“And yet you ask me for advice,” Zayn crossed his arms, looking put out. 

“I take everything you tell me into account but you know it is what it is.” 

Zayn let out a long suffering sigh. 

“So what are you going to wear to seduce the duke then?” Zayn asked, changing the subject. 

Louis smirked. “I have a little something I’ve been saving to enchant a certain someone.”

“Let’s see it then,” Zayn said, uncrossing his arms. 

Louis went over to his closet to pull out his latest acquisition. He had saved every livre to get a fabric so fine and delicate. His favorite costumer had helped him to pin the fabric so that it moved like water. The fabric was black with silver inlaid stars that looked like constellations, a sheer slip of a dress designed to go over lingerie. It gathered in the back with a tiny bit of tulle. It was one of the prettiest pieces that Louis actually owned.

“Wow, maybe you should marry him first because he might die seeing you in this,” Zayn said and Louis blushed. It was a strange feeling to blush when he had seen and done it all, but there were butterflies in his stomach. He had crafted this piece like it was art, and it was. 

“Show me the lingerie set that goes with it,” Zayn said, smoothing out the fabric of the dress. 

Louis got out his black lingerie that included a high waisted corset. The bottom half was a silk black thong which made Louis’ ass look even more plush. 

“You really are gonna knock him dead, babe,” Zayn said, smiling. 

“I hope so, but not literally.” 

He showed Zayn the coat he was going to wear over it, complete with a veil to pin over his traveling hat. The overcoat was black and covered Louis’ ensemble, keeping it a secret until the time was right. 

“The black is so seductive, I can see why you choose it. I bet he’s going to order you so many outfits from Paris,” Zayn said. 

Louis heartbeat quickened. It was no surprise that he loved fashion, he lived for the costumes he wore. He loved wearing lingerie and having men be stupefied by his body, but outfits from Paris! That was true fashion, something more than the costumes he wore for performances. He sighed wistfully. 

“Here let me do your makeup,” Zayn said. He drew Louis over to the stool by the vanity.

“You’re already a vixen but let me make you even more irresistible,” Zayn said. 

“What would I do without you,” Louis said, as he plopped down. 

“You’d be just as you are but a little less than perfect,” Zayn said winking. 

Louis was never surprised that Zayn was so good with cosmetics, he practiced on himself and some of the dancers and he always managed some kind of transformation. He liked to practice on Louis on the off days, and Louis was happy to let him. He always managed to look fresher and his cheekbones more defined when Zayn did his makeup. 

“We want him to be caught by your eyes,” Zayn said as he applied eyeliner on the top and bottom lids of Louis’ eyes. “They’re beautiful without but when they’re magnified, they’re even more blue.”
Louis gave him a kiss on the cheek before he was ready to leave. "Good luck" Zayn said as Louis shut the door behind him. 

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Henry’s carriage arrived precisely at seven. Louis had been waiting nervously in the atrium, trying to look like he wasn’t petrified. He was going to a real duke’s residence, a peerage of the realm with a man he barely met. It was different than meeting and sleeping with men at a usual interval at the Moulin Rouge. He found himself unable to sit still, fidgeting with his veil.  Even though the place was bustling with people, Louis still felt alone. He would be making this journey without Zayn, without Joni, the success of the Moulin Rouge rested solely on his shoulders. He felt the weight of expectation and wished he could be more natural and easy in his manner. 

He spotted the gleaming carriage with Henry’s coat of arms as it came to a rolling stop. Louis took a deep breath and exited out of the atrium. The coachman must have known who to look for because he spotted Louis right away, jumping down to open the door. Louis uttered a demure thank you and got in. Surprisingly the duke wasn’t waiting for him. It was just Louis. The carriage jerked to a start, and then he was on his way. The interior of the coach was lush with velvet fabric, the cushion felt soft and pleasant to sit on. He could picture himself sleeping there, it was so lovely. He couldn’t imagine what the duke’s house looked like if this carriage was finer than any rooms of the Moulin Rouge. He pulled back the velvet overhanging on the window and watched as the hustle and bustle of Paris drifted away. He knew that the duke’s house was a little out of the city, not too close but not too far, still it would take about twenty minutes he guessed to get there.
The traffic was terrible during any day of the week until it finally petered out as they rumbled on into the countryside. Louis let out a sigh. It was quite blissful to be out of the city even if only for a night. He remembers being a child, so small the memories almost don’t come to him, but he remembered green grass and skies so blue, a whisper of his name and that is all. He doesn’t even remember where he was from before he was in the orphanage and then on the streets, but he remembered it was somewhere in the French countryside. The small glimpses of villages, the densely wooded forest, they stirred the memories from his childhood. It made him nostalgic for something he never really had. He feels the carriage suddenly start to slow down and his nervous butterflies come back. What if the duke had second thoughts? What if he’s going to let Louis down gently? 

He squashes his rampant thoughts quickly. He has to remain in control. Nothing about the duke suggests that he was disappointed with him. He hears Simon’s voice in his head telling him to get himself together. He feels the weight of responsibility settle on his slim shoulders. He peaks out the window to find they have stopped completely in front of Henry’s French villa. It’s a massive house, albeit not what Louis had expected. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected except maybe a mansion in the victorian style, but while it’s not exactly modern, it isn’t old fashioned. The house itself looked to be two stories with a balcony lining the top story. He guess that must be where the master bedroom is. The color of the stone looks like a pale beige from what Louis can see. The sconces are all lit making the house look like a star in the dark wilderness. He wonders if he should get out so he can get a better look, but then the door is being opened and he is ushered out by the coachman and up the front entrance stairs. He wants to gawk for he has never been to a duke’s house, he can forgive himself for being nosy, but then he is in the large open space that is the foyer. Decadent. That’s the only word Louis can think of, hoping that his jaw isn’t on the floor. It’s the most well lit place Louis has ever seen. He wonders how long it takes to light every candle in the golden chandelier above him.
Everything is awash in golden light. The floor is inlaid marble and the color of the walls was a warm buttery yellow. It looked the opposite of what Louis had expected, it looked warm and inviting. To Louis’ right was a staircase which presumably let to the upper floor. To his left, there was an open door that led to a small study. He could see shelves full of books. It was a lot to take in.

“Sir, may I take your coat?” an elderly gentleman, the butler from his attired, said while Louis was gazing around the room. 

Thankfully, Louis had decided to add a slip to his attire so it wasn't so risqué at first. He was just shrugging off his coat when the duke came into view. Louis didn’t notice him at first, he must have been above his eye line at the top of the stairs. Louis thanked the butler and smiled as the duke made his way down to the foyer. He was dressed immaculately. He was wearing a casual linen suit but every part of his body was muscled, his shirt was unbuttoned at the front, leaving a tantalizing line of skin. There was no posturing here, the duke was naturally confident. He had a sense of ease about him that Louis hadn’t seen when they first met. 

“Louis, I’m so glad you’re here,” he said in his warm baritone. It was difficult for Louis in this moment not to compare Henry with Harry as he had been thinking about the latter all day. For all that Louis was nervous, he found that as the duke stood in front of him, he had kind eyes. He was genuinely glad to see Louis which made him feel less anxious. Henry’s eyes took in Louis’ outfit, his eyes slowly assessing him, lingering on his waist. 

“You look exquisite,” he said in such a wondrous tone that Louis blushed.

“Please let me escort you to the dining room.” He placed his large warm hand on Louis’ lower back, ushering him forward. 

The formal dining room was large and spacious dominated by a long wooden table. The duke must be fond of entertaining as there were numerous chairs pushed in, the wood carved with intricate designs. Henry led him to the end of the table where two large chairs were pushed out. 

“I know it’s tradition for us to be at separate ends of the table, but it’s so much easier to converse this way,” the duke said sheepishly. 

Louis smiled at him.

“Of course, I prefer this as well,” he said, sitting down in the chair Henry indicated. Even the cushions on the chairs were decadent, Louis thought. Henry took his place to his left at the center of the table. There were goblets of wine already waiting for them and Louis sipped his causally. He didn’t want to drink too much or too fast, anxious to keep his wits about him.

“I know you must think this a bit awkward, me having talked with Simon before meeting you, having you come here, but I want you to be comfortable, I don’t want you to think of anything we talk about as a business transaction,” Henry said slowly, gazing at Louis. 

“The truth is that I was captivated the first time that I saw you. I’ve never seen someone so beautiful or graceful. Perhaps you don’t believe in love at first sight but I do.”

For the second time in as many days, someone had professed love at first sight for Louis. If he were alone he might have laughed out loud. For all of Harry’s talk of instant love, he never thought the duke would profess the same. 

Henry was still talking. “Before my mother died she told me to always trust my heart. I know it might seem silly coming from the upper class, but I promised her that I would. Now I think that day has come,” he said, reaching over to grasp Louis’ hand. 

Louis hesitated before deciding on total honesty. 

“Duke-“

“Please call me Henry, I love how it sounds on your lips.”

Louis smiled.

“Henry, I have to be completely honest with you. I don’t know if I can or will fall in love with you, but I’m willing to try. I hope it’s enough that I want you to court me,” Louis said. Henry’s eyes dimmed for a moment, but he smiled back. 

“I would not in any way wish to push you into something that you don’t feel but I think we are very compatible.” 

He was cut off by a servant bringing in their dinner. He gave Louis’ smaller hand a squeeze.

Dinner was a sumptuous affair. Louis had never had such fine food in his life. Everything was cooked to perfection. The sparkling wine fizzed in his blood, loosening him up. He sensed that the duke was a bit shy which warmed his heart even more towards the man. 

“Can you tell me more about this show you want to put on?” he asked. Seeing as the work was still yet to be finished, Louis tried to be as vague as possible.

“It’s a love story between a peasant and a highborn noble set in the medieval ages. A kind of Romeo and Juliet.”

“Do I know the playwright?” Henry asked, adding more vegetables to his plate.

Louis’s expression slipped for a moment. Why did Harry always have to come back into his mind at the worst possible moments. 

“It’s written by an up and coming talent. It will be his first performed play if Simon agrees to it.”

Henry’s brows raised. “They must be very talented indeed for Simon to agree to that.”

“He is.” 

They lapsed into a companionable silence as they finsihed their meal.

After dinner, they moved to a small parlor room connected with the dining room. The main centerpiece was a fireplace ringed with marble. Two cozy wingback chairs sat in front of them.

Louis saw a massive dog reclined on the floor that looked up when they entered. 

“Ah I thought I had told Charles to take him outside, he can leave-“

But while Henry had been talking, Louis had crossed over to squat beside the dog, scratching behind his ears. 

“He’s adorable!” Louis said as the dog responded by licking Louis’ hand and trying to lick his face. Louis was giggling by the time Henry made his way to sit in one of the chairs. 

“I’m glad you both like each other. Kal has been my best friend since I adopted him,” he said with a soft smile. 

“Shall we retire?” Louis asked, standing in front of the duke. He knew that by the firelight, his dress was practically see through. He could feel Henry’s hot gaze on his figure, and he wanted more. He wanted to be touched. 

“Louis, I hope you don’t feel like you have to do anything,” Henry said reluctantly. He was shifting in his chair, and Louis could see his arousal straining against his linen trousers. He smirked inwardly. 

He hiked up part of his dress so he could straddle Henry on the wingback chair. 

“Trust me, I’m not doing anything that I don’t want to do,” he said, drawing Henry’s hands to his waist. The response was instantaneous. Henry squeezed his waist and licked into Louis’ mouth, desperately. Henry’s hands were roaming and Louis smiled when they came to rest where he knew they would, right above his ass. 

“I think we should take this to your bedroom,” Louis said, kissing under Henry’s collar, inhaling his strong scent. 

Henry shifted Louis off of his lap and bent to take his hand. Louis took a second to pat Kal goodbye and Henry laughed. Louis felt himself warming up to him even more. Something about it felt so domestic, like they were already a couple. Butterflies danced in his stomach as they walked up the staircase, hand in hand, to Henry’s bedroom. As Louis had surmised, the master bedroom was in the middle of the house. The lamps were lit dimly, it seemed like they were they only ones existing although Louis knew all the servants were downstairs. They would know exactly why he was here and what they were about to do. Not that Louis minded. There was a fireplace lit already in Henry’s bedroom as they made their way inside. It took only a moment for Henry to close the door before Louis was pinned to it, breathless. His hands were caught, he could feel the strength in the arms that held him, he was on his tip toes.

“Will you take this off for me?” he whispered in Louis’ ear. He was tugging at the fabric encompassing Louis’ waist. 

“But I wore it just for you,” Louis murmured back. 

“Then let me appreciate it.”

He slowly backed away from Louis, leaving him standing in front of the man. Henry sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. His eyes roamed Louis figure, every dip and curve Louis felt his eyes on him. 

“Take it off for me,” he said, his voice deeper than Louis had ever heard. 

Louis didn’t mean to be a tease but it was somewhat in his nature. He unlaced the back of the dress so that the tulle slowly collapsed. He slowly raised the shimmering fabric over his head, leaving him in his black satin lingerie. 

He could hear Henry’s breathing quicken as he moved closer. He was about to straddle him when Henry moved to stop him.

“I have a gift for you, I don’t want to forget,” he said, although Louis knew what an effort he must be putting forth to stop. His hands gripped Louis’ biceps. “Wait a moment,” he said and moved over towards the fireplace mantle. 

Louis looked around him for the first time since coming in. The master bedroom was gorgeous. Everything was shades of maroon and gilt. There was a large mirror wreathed in gold above a dresser. The curtains were slightly open, giving Louis a glimpse of the stone balcony outside. It was breathtaking, but the focal point of the room was not the fireplace with the single plush chair, but the massive bed dominating the space.

“I bought this for you,” suddenly Louis’ attention was brought back towards Henry who was handing him a square velvet box. Louis looked up questioningly. 

“Go on, open it,” Henry encouraged. 

Louis took the box, easing the lid open. He let out a gasp. Before him was the most beautiful diamond necklace he had ever seen. It clasped to the neck with a collar full of diamonds with even more dripping down towards the neck. The center piece was the biggest diamond, about the size of Louis’ knuckle.

He looked up at the duke in wonder.

“You can’t possibly give me this. It must have cost a fortune!”

Louis didn’t care if he sounded like he’d never seen a diamond in his life. The price alone of the necklace could have paid off Louis’ contract a hundred times over. He was still staring at the necklace, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“Do you like it?” Henry asked. 

He was watching Louis’ expression like a hawk.

Louis could hardly think or breath. He touched his finger tentatively on the smooth stones, their setting cold. 

“I’m not worth this, surely,” he said. “I can’t accept this, it’s too much.” 

Henry took the box from his hand, gently unclasping the necklace. He moved so that Louis could watch from the mirror as he placed the necklace around his throat. Louis couldn’t look away. The necklace lay across his neck, a chain of sparkling fire. 

Henry was watching him watch how his chest rose and fell. The weight of the diamonds was cold but welcome.

“See how they take to you? I commissioned it after I first saw you. The Sparkling Diamond.” 

“It’s beautiful, but I still don’t think I deserve such a thing,” Louis said, breathlessly. 

Henry turned him from the mirror to look into his eyes. 

“You deserve all this and more. Once you are a duchess, I am going to make it my mission to spoil you with everything you have ever wanted. You will drip diamonds and pearls, you will have the finest wardrobe, everything that your heart desires,” he says. Louis stares into his eyes wondering how this man could say these things and mean them. But he did mean them, he was gazing into Louis’ eyes so earnestly.

“Kiss me,” he said, wanting to shut down all of his racing thoughts. 

Henry complied at once, kissing Louis tenderly. While Louis appreciated the romantic gesture, he wanted to lose his mind for awhile, to just live in the moment without overthinking.            

He pushed Henry towards the bed, inwardly smirking at how the man seemed totally in awe. He was watching Louis hungrily as he unhooked his corset slowly. 

“I’m going to suck you off and then just when you’re close to your pleasure, I’m going to ride you in just these diamonds,” Louis said

He saw Henry’s dick twitch in his pants and licked his lips. He divested himself of his panties, and then it was just him naked in front of a fully clothed duke. Not for long if he had his way. He made short work of Henry’s trousers while Henry threw off his linen shirt leaving his chest heaving, a light sheen of sweat covering his body.

It was flattering that he was affecting the duke so much already. He had called Louis a vision but Henry was one of the most attractive men Louis had ever had. He wasted no time getting his mouth around Henry’s cock, it was even bigger than Harry’s and girthier. Louis hummed around him and felt Henry’s hands fall into his hair. He could feel Henry stretching towards the bedside table hopefully for oil.

Louis was hauled up into Henry’s lap, his mouth still sticky from pre cum. He was pleasantly surprised at Henry’s sudden possessiveness, thinking he was going to be tentative. He was stroking Louis’ face with his large hand, Louis nipped at his jawline, the light scruff making his skin feel raw in a delicious way. 

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you, dove?” he asked. Louis shivered out a small no. 

“I’m going to finger you until you can’t take it anymore, slide you down my cock and stuff you full with it.” 

Louis groaned, feeling Henry’s long finger covered in oil prodding at his hole. He was poised above Henry, the diamonds feeling heavier, warming to his skin. 

“They weren’t wrong were they, dove, when they call you the Sparkling Diamond.”

Louis looked down at his body, his smaller cock weeping from inattention. He caught a wicked gleam in Henry’s eye.

“Don’t touch yourself,” he chided when Louis slid his hand down.

With one hand, he was fingering Louis expertly, teasingly, and with the other he was smoothing down Louis’ side.

“I see you have someone else’s marks on your body,” he said almost conversationally. With his left hand, he petted Louis’ thighs which were covered with bruises from where Harry had kissed and bit him. 

“But you’re with me now,” he said as he pushed three fingers in, hitting Louis’ prostate unceremoniously. Louis gasped on top of him, struggling not to just bat Henry’s hands away and do it himself. 

“Don’t hold back, dove I want to hear how good I’m making you feel,” Henry said. 

Louis wasn’t content to just sit and look pretty. He leaned down and kissed him. “I’m ready please let me have it,” he said into Henry’s hot mouth. The hand that was petting his thighs gathered both of his hands above his head. 

“You look so pretty begging,” he said as Louis squirmed in his hold. 

“Please…Henry…” he whispered, twisting in his grip the way that he knew made his body look irresistible.

Henry growled which lit up Louis’ nerves like a wildfire. He didn’t know what it was about men that liked to manhandle him but it never failed to turn him on. 

Louis spotted the condom next to the pillow where Henry had laid the oil. “Let me put it on you,” he said gesturing with his head. Henry loosing his grip so that he could reach over and grab it. As his fingers grazed the condom, he felt his nipple being caught by Henry’s mouth. He left out a full body shiver as his sensitivity was revealed. 

“You like that sweetheart?” Henry said smugly, loving the reaction he got. The endearment made him think of Harry, and he swiftly tried to will that thought away.

Louis sat back up and smiled at him sweetly. 

He spread some of the oil on Henry’s cock, salivating at the thought of it being in him. He stroked the shaft, licking his lips. Apparently he was taking too long because Henry grabbed his waist and effortlessly slid Louis down his length. Louis cried out because Henry was probably one of the biggest he’d taken. He was prepped and ready, but still it was a lot. Henry hand’s were still on his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into his sides soothingly. 

“I know it’s a lot baby, but I know you can take it,” he said. 

Louis pressed down with his own hands, rising and falling trying to get a good rhythm. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Henry said, helping Louis out by planting his feet and thrusting up. 

Louis felt like a rag doll, his own cock was weeping mercilessly. He wanted to touch himself, the burn was bordering on too good. He placed his hand on his stomach, as if to feel Henry’s cock inside him. Henrys eyes watched his movement. 

“Can you feel me sweetheart?” One of his hands came to rest on Louis’, holding it down.

“So big you can feel it inside you, huh?” 

Louis moaned. “Maybe it’s just your big ego,” Louis winked at him, riding him relentlessly now. 

“I must not be doing a good enough job if you’re still talking,” Henry said. His hands were back on Louis’ waist, digging crescent shaped fingermarks. 

Louis looked to his left where the large gilt mirror was fitted above the dresser.

“You like what you see?” Henry said, “Like that you can watch me moving inside you like this.” He pushed upward again with a sharp movement that had Louis gasping. 

He loved riding a big dick, and this was no exception. His thighs were on fire from holding himself up. He whimpered as Henry’s warm hand came to finish him off while the other hand pinched at his nipple. Caught between Henry’s large cock and his hand, he came messily, his mouth open and gasping for breath. 

Suddenly, Henry lifted him off his cock and onto his back. Louis was pliant after coming so hard. Louis watched as Henry pumped his cock fast and quick. 

“Mmm made me come so hard, gonna come on my face? Gonna mark me?” Louis said, and Henry was grunting, looking like he was almost there. Louis pulled him in closer just as Henry came hard over Louis’ face and the diamond choker. 

Louis wiped the cum off his face with a languid hand, licking it up while Henry watched. The diamond necklace glittered with life of its own and Henry’s cum. 

“Fuck sweetheart you’re driving me crazy,” he said. 

Louis was sleepy, he’d just had the life fucked out of him but he was aware that however hot it was, he should probably clean off the necklace. “Oh god the necklace, is it ruined. You spent so much money I-“

Henry stopped him with a kiss. “Dove, I’ll commission a thousand necklaces for you, don’t worry, but let me take it off you, that won’t be comfortable to sleep in,” he said.

“I can’t believe you had that made just for me,” Louis murmured as Henry unclasped the necklace, placing it gently on the bedside table.

“I know what I wanted the moment I saw you,” Henry said, and Louis wondered if he was speaking with double meaning. 

“I know I’m not exactly duchess material…no really,” he said trying to cut off Henry’s protests. It was easier to talk this way when it was just the roar of the fire, some of his defenses down.

“I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I do or how many men I’ve been with, but I just want you to be aware of everything in my past,” Louis said. 

Henry was stretched out beside him, watching him. The firelight danced against the planes of his face.

“You’re entirely too honest did you know that? Most in your position would lie and say they’re already in love or promise their eternal devotion. But not you.”

Henry reached out to stroke his face.

“I appreciate your candor, I do, but you don’t have to convince me of anything. I thought perhaps once I had you maybe the hunger would disappear, that’s what I told myself at least, but it’s just made me crave you more, I didn’t think it possible.”

He felt the duke slide the sheet over the top of them, a brush of his lips against Louis’ neck.

Louis turned onto his side, bringing Henry’s arm around him, nestled to his side, their skin as close as they could be. 

There was a little voice of doubt in his head that whispered that this was too easy, not that the duke would tire of him but that he would tire of the duke. He stared at the fire slowly dwindling as Henry’s breathing become regular, he had drifted off to sleep. Louis felt safe, but he also felt his mind wouldn’t quiet down. It wasn’t that he was unsatisfied, quite the opposite at least physically. This man next to him had commissioned a diamond necklace just because he wanted Louis to wear it. If he could do that, how many of Louis’ friends and colleagues could he help? The possibilities were endless but he felt such guilt at the thought. He enjoyed Henry’s body but what of his heart? He seemed so sincere in his profession of love. Just last night Harry had brought up the possibility of love at first sight and he had scoffed. Now, two men professed love for him after such short acquaintance, it bordered on unbelievable. Fantastic to think that there were two men so alike and yet so different willing to love him.

Zayn would call him cynical, but Louis couldn’t help it. One had all the wealth and security a man could possess in the world and the other had integrity and passion. Louis was a realist but what Zayn had cautioned him against came back into his mind, haunting him. It was no good to give in to what his heart desired and yet, he yearned to. Was there a way to keep both Harry and Henry? He knew it could not be so. He sighed and felt the breathing of the man next to him. It was almost a pity he was not ugly or short tempered, it would be easier to hate him and love Harry alone. He remembered Harry’s parting words, knowing the man was jealous and unwilling to give this chance up. Part of him thought that this meeting with the duke would just be a night, that his lust would be sated and yet, it had turned out so differently than he imagined. He could not hate this man with his shy yet commanding demeanor, this man of hidden depths but neither could he love him so fiercely as what he felt for harry. He sighed bringing the sheet more firmly around him. He snuggled back into Henry, the man felt like a furnace. He closed his eyes and knew sleep would be a long time coming. 
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

In the morning, he woke to a cold bed, the duke must be an early riser. The fire had burned down to something non existent. He wondered if the maids had been in yet and remembered he was still naked. There was a milky light piercing the darkness of the room. He surmised it must be coming from the curtains so he heaved himself out of bed to open them fully. He peered around the room, spying a dressing gown on the wingback chair. It was heavy, made of a red velvet fabric, but he shrugged it on anyway, the sleeves going past his fingers. He secured it with a belt and took stock of his surroundings. Now that it was daylight, he had a better sense of the decadence of the room. His clothes were laying neatly piled at the end of the bed, the diamond box sitting on top. Just then he heard the chime of the clock on the mantle. He squinted at the small squiggly writing. 10 in the morning. His eyes widened, he usually never slept in this late, what the duke must think of him. 

There was a tentative knock on the door, and Louis turned to see Henry popping his head in the doorway. He grinned at seeing Louis standing near the center of the room. 

“I thought your ensemble last night was gorgeous but now I think that seeing you wear my clothes might be the best sight I’ve ever seen,” he said, giving him an appreciated look over.

Louis blushed. He wasn’t used to men staying the night or even seeing him in the morning, he must look like a mess. His toes curled into the plush carpet, as he looked down shyly. 

He was startled to feel Henry’s large hand cup his face, bringing their foreheads together.

“You don’t have to hide from me, dove. I love seeing you unguarded and undone.” 

He kissed Louis slowly and gently. Louis grabbed his biceps to ground himself in the moment. 

“I brought you some clothes to change into and to tell you that breakfast is ready.”

Louis looked at the parcel Henry held out towards him. 

“Did you pick this out yourself?” he asked as he set the package on the bed. He lifted the top to discover under the layers of tissue paper, a cream pant suit, the fabric buttery and soft. 

“I thought the color would suit you,” Henry said from behind him. 

“How did you know my size?” Louis asked in wonderment. There was even a matching cream lingerie set in the box. 

He whirled around to give Henry a kiss. 

“Thank you thank you!” he said as Henry twirled him around before setting him back on his feet. 

Louis threw off the robe, and Henry chuckled. 

He quickly donned the lingerie set hearing an appreciative sigh behind him. He wiggled into the top part of the cream set, a shirt with a fabric so snug it doubled as a jacket. The lower half was a perfectly tailored trouser. 

“I might have asked your costumer for you measurements,” Henry said as Louis bounded over to the mirror to check his outfit. 

“You are so sneaky,” Louis said. “Hadn’t even met me and you were buying me clothes,” he teased. 

“Anything for you,” Henry said with such sincerity it almost made Louis flinch. His fears and worries came rushing back in. 

“Shall we go down to breakfast?” he asked, his voice unwavering.

“Of course,” Henry said, smiling down at him. He took Louis’ arm in his and led him downstairs. 

If dinner the previous night had been decadent, breakfast was even more so. There were fresh strawberries in glass bowls, steaming eggs and bacon on a platter, chocolate croissants that made Louis’ mouth water. 

“My goodness do you eat like this every day?” Louis asked as he was led to the table. 

Henry looked sheepish. “No, usually it’s just me and Kal in the library, but I wanted this to be special.” 

“You didn’t have to go out of your way for me, I don’t have a big appetite in the morning. But I appreciate this.”

Louis piled his plate with fresh fruit and croissants, closing his eyes to smell the fresh baked bread. 

“I love to watch you enjoy yourself,” Henry said, and it was true. He was watching Louis with a fond smile. 

“You’re too good to me. Handsome, wealthy, kind? Do you even have flaws?” Louis asked, attempting to tease him. 

Henry huffed and looked down at his own plate that was empty. 

“I have plenty of flaws, trust me. I’m jealous and possessive, but I try not to be. I also lost my parents when I was young and it has made me selfish sometimes. However, I have always tried to be a fair man,”

Louis watched him out of the corner of his eye. He’d never met a man more truthful. 

Louis stirred a dollop of cream into his tea.

“Can I be honest with you? I expected you to be a selfish man or even cruel. In my experience, men who have power are rarely honorable or good. You have shown me this is not always true.” 

“Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?” Henry asked.

“I find that speaking the truth is better than hiding it. Better to hurt from the truth than with lies.”

“You’re not what I expected either,” Henry admitted. 

“How so?” Louis cocked an eyebrow 

“I had thought perhaps you would be vain or greedy, but you have really surprised me. I feel as if I know you already, and I’m so glad, Louis.”

Henry reached to pull both of Louis’ hands in his lap, stroking them with his thumb. 

“I’m so glad you’re giving me the chance to get to know you, the real you. You are the Sparkling Diamond, but you are so much more.”

Louis felt tears prick at the back of his eyelids. Only Harry had ever spoken to him in this way. The fact that Henry was so kind made Louis feel guilty. He knew that he wouldn’t stop seeing Harry and even though Henry was more than wonderful, he didn’t want to give Harry up. 

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Louis managed to say. 

“I mean it,” Henry said sincerely.

“I know you do,” Louis whispered, retracting his hand from Henry’s soft grip. 

Henry looked like he was confused but Louis made a show of adding things to Henry’s plate so he let it go. For now, Louis thought. 

He didn’t end up staying long after breakfast. In fact now that the night was over, Louis was feeling restless, like he didn’t belong there during daylight. It was a foolish notion but it’s how he felt. Henry called the carriage for him when he requested it and held him in his arms for a long moment. 

“I’ll be at your performance tonight, dance with me,” he murmured into Louis’ neck. 

“You don’t even have to ask,” Louis said, squeezing him tightly. 

If he could just sink into this embrace and forget everything, he would, but he couldn’t run away from his choices. Henry kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked him to the carriage. The day was overcast and chilly, and Louis was glad for his overcoat. Henry lifted him into the carriage and Louis giggled, not expecting it.

“Until tonight,” Henry said. 

“Goodbye,” Louis said to him, kissing the hand that had shut the door, lingering. The carriage jolted and he was off again.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

When Louis arrived back at the Moulin Rogue he was almost surprised by how everything seemed the same. The sets were still being repaired, the dancers were practicing, the floor was being mopped. He had been away for one night and he seemed changed. He didn’t know if he liked it or not. He knew he would see both Henry and Harry that night and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He sought Zayn out finding him with the costumer and one of the dancers, Bebe. She was a recent addition, gorgeous and curvy. He had warmed to her immediately. She was trying on one of the newest costumes for their alternate number, a corset with a tasseled bodice.

He coughed quietly so that Zayn would notice him arrive. 

“Hey Lou!” Bebe said, giving him a bright smile. 

“Hi, Bebe you look beautiful,” Louis said, moving into room to give her a quick squeeze. 

“Oh my goodness look at your outfit Louis, it’s stunning!” Bebe said gesturing for Louis to spin around. 

“A gift from your new lover?” Zayn asked. Louis couldn’t put his finger on his friends expression.

“Yes, it’s a gift from the duke,” he said as Bebe cooed. 

“Thats such a thoughtful gift!” she said.

Zayn reluctantly shook his head in agreement. 

“Do you mind walking with me?” he said to Zayn. 

“No, of course not.” He set the costumes he was holding in his hadn’t down. 

“See you tonight, Bebe,” Louis said in parting as they walked out. 

“Alright spill,” Zayn said impatiently. “Did he live up to his title? He must be serious about you going by that necklace around your throat.”

Louis blushed, forgetting that he had put it on. 

“He had it custom made, Zayn. He said he knew as soon as he met me that he was going to fall in love.” 

Zayn whistled. “He’s proper smitten isn’t he? And that was before he slept with you?” 

“Yes, and I have to say it exceeded my expectations. He’s not as shy in bed as he appears.” 

Zayn stopped walking in the middle of the hallway and regarded Louis carefully with his amber eyes. 

“You mean to go through this all the way?” he asked. 

“Zayn, you know I have to. The duke is so rich and powerful there’s no way that I can say no. I don’t feel obligated if that’s what you’re asking but…I have to go through with it.” 

“So your dalliance with Harry will have to end, won’t it?” Zayn asked. 

Louis’ heart lurched. He know intrinsically that he would have to stop seeing Harry, would have to stop sleeping with him. It had only happened once, and he was already craving it again which was ridiculous. 

“I suppose I will have to…” he let his voice trail off. 

“You must,” Zayn said firmly. Louis looked up in surprise at his vehemence. 

“Look Louis, the duke IS a powerful man. Do you think he’d just let you dally with whoever you want because he says he’s in love with you? If you put in your lot with him you will have to leave the Moulin Rouge behind permanently, and that means no relationship with a playwright.”

Zayn softened his voice at the look of alarm on Louis’ face. 

“You know I don’t say this to harm you, I just want you to be realistic. The more you see Harry, I think the more you’ll find yourself torn in two.”

“Have you seen them today? Niall and Harry? I thought they had a meeting with Simon.”

Zayn sighed, knowing that Louis wanted to change the topic of conversation. Louis knew he would probably be questioned again at some point in the future. 

“They’re still here, and the play has been approved. They’ll probably move into one of the spare rooms so they can be on hand.” 

“That’s wonderful news! I suppose they’ll be here for the performance tonight?” Louis asked.

“Yes, I think so, and so will your duke? I cant wait to get a look at this handsome man that can’t keep his eyes of you.” 

“Oh shut up. I”m sure you’ll see him before I do. Simon is probably putting him in a place of honor now that he’s a full investor.” 

“And you’re part of this investment aren’t you,” Zayn said. 

“I didn’t really think of it that way.” 

“I know you didn’t but look at the things he’s bought you. A perfect cream suit tailored to perfection, a necklace. Actually let me see it, I don’t know why you keep hiding it with your jacket.” 

They were finally crossing over into Louis’ room. Louis shrugged off his jacket and opened his collar. Zayn gaped at him. 

“My god, he commissioned THAT for you and he never even spoke to you? He’s proper whipped.” 

“And he fucks like a dream,” Louis said smugly 

“And if Harry hears you say that?” Zayn’s already arched brow reached his hairline. 

“We’re not exclusive are we? He knows we’re on a deadline. As soon as the play is over, we cut ties,” Louis said.

“Maybe you’ll actually believe that if you say it more often.” 

“Zayn believe me, we’ll just be a fling, It will be fine.” 

“If you say so,” Zayn said, clearly not believing Louis. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“It’s probably lover boy right now. I’ll leave you to it. And point out the duke to me later. I want to see how dishy he is,” Zayn said, smacking Louis on the butt. Louis yelped and pushed Zayn out the door laughing. 

It was indeed Harry at the door. He was looking at Louis intently, as if to analyzing his looks. He gaze stopped at Louis throat where the diamonds glimmered. 

“Well I see he wasted no time in trying to woo you,” Harry said, coming in and pressing back against the door. 

“It’s just his way of showing his appreciation,” Louis said. “No need to be jealous.” 

“How can I NOT be jealous. That man is a duke, he’s wealthy, he has his sight set on you, how can I compare to that?” he said with a voice filled with bitterness. 

Louis took his face in his small hands, brushing his finger across Harry’s brow. 

“You don’t have to compare to him, you know it’s just business don’t you? And aren’t you glad it’s not with a man that is cruel? That would hurt me? If you want to keep doing this,” he gestured between the two of them. “You will just have to accept that this is the way things will be. I’m sorry.” 

“I never should have kissed you,” Harry said. The words were like an arrow to Louis’ heart. 

“Because now that I’ve had you, it’s like a hunger and whenever you go, whenever you don’t look at me, I feel an absence in my heart.” He dipped his head so that the words were being whispered across Louis’ cheek. 

Louis distantly wondered if his friend had been right. Should he cut out the pain that was festering in his heart at the root? Harry was breathing heavily, his arms came around to hold Louis and they stood that way for several moments. Why did Harry have to be so good, why did he have to feel like a home Louis had never asked for? Louis reached up to unclasp the necklace from around his throat. He stepped away from Harry to hide it in his drawer. 

“He has good taste at least,” Harry said roughly. “A bit creepy he knew your exact measurements though.” Louis laughed. 

“You finished writing the play didn’t you? When do rehearsals start?”

“Tomorrow, we still have to get everyone a finished script. We can’t afford to make that many copies so some will have to share.”

Louis hummed, putting away his clothes. 

“And how was the meeting with Simon.”

“It went ok, although I can’t stand the man. He’s so smarmy, I swear all I could see were dollar signs in his eyes.” 

“Yeah well that’s Simon for you. Only seeing profits where any of us are concerned.” He must have had a hard time containing the bitterness in his voice because he felt Harry’s strong arms come around him. 

“I’m so sorry you have to go through all this. You know you don’t have to. We could run away together,” he said.

Louis turned around quickly. “You know however much I might want to, I can’t do that.” 

“What will happen to us after the play?” Harry asked quietly, his hands were spasming like he wanted to reach out and touch him. He stopped himself.

“I think you know, Harry. I think we both know.” 

“Then why can’t I stop wanting you? I know how it ends…” And this time Harry did come back to him, carding Louis’ soft fringe through his fingers. 

“For the same reason I cant stop seeing you either,” Louis said. Foolishly, he felt like he wanted to cry. It was so unfair that he had finally found someone he truly felt at home with and he couldn’t be with him. It didn’t matter that the duke was a lovely person or that they were also compatible. Harry was here and yet, he wasn’t Harry’s. 

The day passed swiftly with Harry in his room. They really didn’t have that much time, but Louis just liked spending whatever time they could together, alone. It wasn’t even about fucking, there was an intimacy in how they were together, even just sitting quietly with no words between them. Louis found that Harry was more easy going than he expected. It was like he had known him forever. He enjoyed it immensely, to watch Harry type, to see the furrows between his brows. He caught him looking at Louis as well and his expression would brighten, like the sun on a cloudy day. He liked that he could do that. Zayn’s word of warning came back to haunt him like a ghost. With every stroke of Harry’s fingers, with every endearment Louis felt himself getting more attached. He couldn’t help it and wished that his mind could overtake his heart. 

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

The performance that night was different than the usual Sparkling Diamond performance. For Louis’ showcase that night, he was wearing a tightly corseted satin gown, the color red as blood. It made his curves stand out, on his throat he wore the diamond choker. When Simon had seen it he almost had an apoplexy. He had been called into Simon’s office for a report. 

“My boy, you’ve really done it haven’t you? You’ve bagged the duke for us,” he said, like he couldn’t quite believe Louis had achieved it. 

Louis frowned minutely. 

“I wouldn’t calling it bagging but yes, he is courting me.” 

“Well I can see that,” Simon said, gesturing towards Louis’ collarbone where the diamonds lay shimmering. 

“The duke sent a notice saying he will be attending tonight,” Simon said. “I think we can do the new number if you’re ready.” 

“Of course,” Louis agreed, wanting to get out of the office as soon as he could. 

“Just remember Louis, to show him a marked attention.” 

As if Louis didn’t know what to do. He left Simon’s office and the thought suddenly occurred to him that Harry and Henry would both be at the performance. His steps faltered. Realistically, he knew that he could ignore Harry’s attention, he would be backstage at least.

Louis loved the set for this solo, he would be lit up behind a crescent moon so that all that could be seen was his silhouette. He was singing something slower today, “Le Vie En Rose” a song close to his heart. There were snippets of the song he could remember when he was a small boy sung by a women he thought was his mother. He couldn’t remember her face but the song lived in his memory. It was a slower song but it drove the crowd wild when it would segue into a rollicking French anthem. He wouldn’t appear on the swing that night so his costume was more for the stage than to move around, although he would still dance. He would make a show of wearing his necklace and showing off the patron he had attracted. He was curious to see what Taylor and Leigh Anne would think. 

He was touching up his makeup when he saw Harry appear from behind some of the other dancers also scrambling to get ready. Although he had seen him all day, Louis still felt his heart jump. 

“I have uh, some revisions for the play,” Harry said, his voice going up an octave seeing Louis in his finery. The dancers tittered around Harry. 

“Don’t you know men aren’t allowed back here” Taylor called out.

“Although we don’t mind the eye candy,” Leigh Anne said from behind her girlfriend. 

Harrys face was tomato red. 

“Alright stop teasing the man,” Louis said, adding the finishing touches on his red lipstick. His smile curved in the mirror as he watched Harry waiting for him with burning eyes. Louis gave his gown a brief smoothing down before turning to sashay out of the doorway, Harry hot on his heels. 

“God you look beautiful Lou, I mean you always look good but,” 

“Did you actually have something to talk to me about or did you just want to see me again?” Louis asked, arched brow raised.

Harry licked his lips and tugged Louis off into the curtains beside the hallway. 

“I think you know. I’m going to be backstage when you’re out there dancing and signing for him.” He said it neutrally but Louis could hear the venom in the words.

“Don’t forget who gave you those bruises on your thighs, don’t forget it’s me that will have you at night.” 

Louis kissed him to stop his talking and smiled when he saw the red lipstick marks around his lip. 

“I think it’s I who have branded you,” he said while Harry looked at him uncomprehendingly. Harry held him close as if unable to let him go. 

“I have to perform, darling,” Louis said, hating that he had to leave. 

“Promise me you’ll come to me after the show,” Harry said, eyes never leaving Louis’ face. 

“Of course I will,” Louis said. “We have to rehearse the play don’t we?” he said and winked, leaving harry groaning behind him. 

Louis loved the Sparking Diamond routine, but he also loved putting on a show and showcasing his vocals. 

When the lights went down and the spotlight was on his figure, it gave him chills to start the song. The dancing hall was as crowded as ever, he couldn’t exactly hear a pin drop but it was close. As he sang, the only sounds were glasses being clinked, a scuffling of shoes, and people shushing each other. 

When the tempo started to amp up, the crescent moon was raised a few feet above him. 

He walked down from the stage into the center of the dance floor as the other dancers come to circle him. 

“Qu’on soit des filles de

cocktails, belles

qu’on soit des filles des

fleurs de poubelles

toutes les mêmes

qu’on soit des croissants de lune

qu’on soit des monts de Saturne

pour l’I.V.G. ou en bulle

nous on a”

He sang as the dancers did their routine. The melody was uptempo and frantic. He saw the duke sitting at the center table and danced over to him. He could hear the hoots and hollers of the other patrons, but his eyes were only for Henry. He sat at the center table, alone. It was a place of honor for the most benevolent patrons, a place envied by many men. It had the prime viewing spot of the whole theatre. 

“On a besoin d’amour

On a besoin d’amour

Besoin d’un amour XXL”

It was with these bawdy lyrics that Louis shimmied towards Henry’s lap, which he allowed, holding Louis’ smaller body with his thighs. Louis felt his heart rate uptick when he knew that Harry was probably watching from behind the curtain. Why not give him a show? Louis made a show of contorting his body and letting Henry nuzzle into his face, using his core to lift himself. 

“ Besoin d’un amour XXL, ” he sang as his eyes drifted towards Henry’s lap. He mimed some bawdy gestures towards the audience which had the patrons howling and left Henry amused. 

He gave Henry a kiss on the cheek leaving a bright right lipstick mark and then joined the other dancers finishing the number. The lights went down. While his singing performance might be over, he still had to make a show of asking the duke to dance. He felt keyed up which was unusual for him. Usually a performance and the dancing took the energy from him in a good way. He felt stressed even though he had basically won everything Simon wanted him to win. He raced towards the changing rooms to fix his sweaty makeup that never failed to make his fringe frizzy much to his dismay. He felt Taylor come up behind him. 

“So that was your duke, huh? He’s quite the catch. I really thought you were exaggerating, but he’s very handsome,” she said, eyes wide. 

“Almost as handsome as that playwright that came to see you,” she whispered mischievously. 

Louis looked up at here in haste.

“He didn’t come to see me, he just had some revisions he wanted me to look over for the play,” he said, and even that excuse felt poor to his own ears.

“Oh please the only thing he wanted to check over was your body. I’m not dumb,” Taylor rolled her eyes.

“It was supposed to be a secret,” Louis said. 

“Well neither of you are very subtle. I could see your eyes searching for him backstage,” she said matter of fact. 

Louis felt a frisson of fear. What if Simon noticed him looking at Harry, what if he noticed his attention wasn’t solely on the duke?

“Relax,” Taylor said, placing one manicured hand on his shoulder. 

“I only noticed because I know you so well. Do you think Simon pays that much attention? He thinks you have it in the bag already.” 

He turned to meet her kind gaze. 

“Do you think what I’m doing is bad? I’m leading Harry on when I know we can’t do anything, there’s no future for us.” 

“Louis, you’re a smart person. I think you just need to choose what your heart really wants even if it’s the harder thing. You’ll be happier that way,” she said. 

“Do you think me and Leigh want to be dancers forever? We all have to make hard decisions in life but choose something YOU want.” 

“It’s kind of hard when Simon holds our contracts over our heads,” he said bitterly. 

Taylor sighed. “I know, that’s why I said it’s hard, but you can’t just worry about us, Lou. Will you be happy with the duke? Would you be happier with your playwright. Only you can decide your future.” 

“I’ll keep it mind. Thanks Taylor, for everything.” He stood up over the vanity to give her a hug.

“I love hugging you, it’s like hugging a little pixie. No wonder two men are in love with you,” Taylor said while squeezing him.

She was right, he pondered at his made his way up to his room. He had to decide what he was going to do. He couldn’t just pretend everything was ok, being split in two directions. If he chose Harry, he would have to leave France, everyone he knew, start afresh. He probably would never act or sing on a big stage again. If he chose the duke, then everything would be better for the Moulin Rouge, his friends who he considered family, not to mention the benefits for himself. He even thought he could learn to love the duke in his own way. But it wouldn’t be the same kind of wild love he had for Harry, the kind of love that lit him up on the inside. The joy of knowing someone understood him completely and he the same. Could they be happy together even if they were poor? Would the prospect of poverty hold them closer together or would they end up hating each other? He sighed not knowing what to think. Harry was waiting for him in his room. He hated using sex as a distraction, but he wanted to forgot just for a little while.

“Mon petit blue,” Harry breathed as Louis walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

He was backed up into the door, Harry’s hands covering his wrists, 

“You seem to like me in this position,” Louis said, trying to catch Harry’s lips in a kiss.

“It’s why we are compatible, mon amour,” Harry said.

“I think you like me in every position,” Louis said. 

“I think you would be right,” Harry said, hoisting Louis up by his thighs. He giggled as Harry threw him on the bed. 

“Really? The curtains are still open!” Not that Louis really minded he just liked seeing Harry wound up. 

“Then let all of Paris hear you scream my name,” Harry said, lowering himself to kiss at Louis’ collarbones. Louis hugged out a laugh. Trust a possessive man like Harry to not even undress him before attempting to seduce him.

“Harry, this corset is killing me I can barely breathe as it is,” he huffed out a laugh.

“You asking me to take off your clothes, doll,” Harry said, eying Louis’ silk gown. 

“Actually, I was going to get Zayn to unlace me because he’s usually the one waiting for me.” 

“But this time you know I was waiting for you,” Harry grinned. 

Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Ok conceited. Unlace the back for me.” 

“I do often wonder how you and the other dancers can breathe in these,” Harry said, trying with less than dexterous fingers to unlace the corset quickly. 

“Believe me it’s taken years to adapt, but it’s the fashion. In my spare time I don’t wear one.” Finally the back laces were undone. Louis felt Harry kissing down his spine as he unhooked the inner corset. 

“You’re beautiful with or without it. Harry still had a faint trace of Louis’ lipstick on his mouth.

A knock sounded out the door, breaking Louis out of his trance. 

“Louis? It’s me, Henry. I hope you don’t find this presumptuous but I asked Simon where your rooms are.”

Louis was already bounding off the bed. 

“Fuck!” He shouldn’t have let Harry undress him yet. It was too late to get him to lace it back up. He shimmied out of his corset fully until he was just in a pair of red satin panties. He was rummaging around for his silk robe when he noticed Harry still on the bed, a mulish look on his face.

“Harry are you an idiot? Hide in the closet!” he whispered harshly towards the man. 

“No Louis are YOU being serious? Do you think you can hide this forever?” He gestured between the two of them

“Are you that ashamed to be seen with me?” he demanded.

Louis didn’t have time for this. 

“Harry, I swear to you that we’ll talk about this later, but I need you to hide right now please. If you really care then please hide,” Louis pleaded.

“You’re really going to use my feelings against me?” Harry grumbled as Louis shooed him towards the closet.

“I’m going to let you fuck me when he leaves, but I’m going to drive you wild first,” Louis said, giving him a wink. He knew that Harry was going to be crazed with jealousy by the time Henry left and he wanted him to feel that way. Let him see him with another man. It had been a thought in the back of his mind since the way Harry had acted possessive over him the first time. 

Louis smoothed out the fabric of his robe and opened the door to a befuddled Henry. 

“Am I bothering you, darling? I can come back tomorrow if you’re too tired,” he said as Louis was already opening the door. 

“Don’t be silly. I am tired, but I will make an exception for you of course,” Louis said graciously. 

Henry was holding a bouquet of roses, all fresh and dripping blood red. 

“These are for you, you gave such a wonderful performance,” Henry said, handing him the large bouquet.

Louis cooed out his thank you, his favorite thing to receive were flowers. 

“Where did you find something like these at this time of night? They’re beautiful,” Louis said, touching one of the petals. 

Henry looked bashful. “There was an urchin selling them on one of the corner streets. I paid him enough so that he could be off the streets for awhile hopefully.”

Louis heart clenched. He almost wished Henry was a horrible man. He was decent and more importantly, he was kind.

He set the flowers down on his dresser.

“Thank you for coming tonight, I hope you didn’t mind that I made you part of the show,” Louis said.

“Well since I’m attending most of the rehearsals for the play, I think I’m already part of the show,” Henry replied, looking amused. 

Louis crossed over to him, standing up on his tip toes so he could rest his arms around the taller man’s shoulders. 

“Oh? And did nothing about this certain performance tonight make you feel anything? Because that’s certainly not what I felt when I was in your lap,” Louis said mischievously.

Henry laughed. “You are such a minx aren’t you? You just want me to lose all my control around you. Don’t worry that’s long gone I can assure you.”

“Is it? Maybe you should remind me,” Louis said as he led Henry to the bed. 

“I thought you were tired? I don’t want to cause you any pain, dove.” 

Louis flinched minutely hoping that Harry or Henry caught it. 

It was easy to just pretend this was another dalliance, but deep down he knew Henry cared. The fact that he didn’t take what he wanted cemented it. 

“I’m not so tired that you can’t fuck my throat,” Louis said as he pushed Henry down towards the center of the bed. 

Henry groaned.

“Your pretty mouth says such devilish things with ease,” he said.

“What will I do with you?”

“You’re going to let me take what I want,” Louis winked at him, unbuckling his belt. 

Henry huffed out another laugh. He stretched his biceps back, pillowing them behind his head.

“Go on then dove, take your prize,” he said, watching him.

Louis felt powerful, in a way he always did when men were willing to let him pleasure them. He was proud of his body, his sexuality, with men who felt the same. He smirked towards the closet door. Let Harry see him work. 

He shoved Henry’s trousers and pants down with finesse. He was going to make this man lose his composure. He knew he was being challenged. Henry was looking at him with raised eyebrows. This was a game that Louis could win. 

“You know…you’re one of the largest men to ever take me.” 

Louis slid his small hand over Henry’s massive length with a featherlight touch. 

“Not to give you a big ego but you have exactly the right size to satisfy me,” he said, stroking him fully now. 

Louis decided to get straight to it. He swallowed Henry down like it was his last meal. Henry made a noise above him but he ignored it. All he could feel was Henry’s cock, he hummed around it, reaching his right hand up to cradle the balls. He almost wanted to look up and see the ecstasy in Henry’s face, but he kept focus on his task. His world narrowed down to this, and he loved it. He breathed in the musky scent of Henry’s pubic hair, and Henry jerked above him. 

“Sorry, dove, sorry fuck, you’re doing this too well,” Henry said, even though Louis didn’t even choke. He gripped Henry’s thigh with his other hand, gesturing for him to fuck his mouth. 

He licked up and down the shaft as he slowly looked up with watering eyes. 

“How can you look so angelic doing this, dove?” Henry said as he started thrusting. 

Louis was annoyed that he could still even talk so he doubled down and used his other hand to jack Henry off. 

The moans and grunts were turning him on but he didn’t want to come. He wanted to make Harry so jealous that he would fuck him as soon as Henry left. Perhaps not his noblest intention but he knew Harry was burning up to see him like this.

He broke off from Henry’s cock to see him straining for breath above him. 

“Come on my face,” he said and felt Henry’s dick pulse. He smirked at him and then got back to sucking. It wasn’t long before his eyes were closed. He enjoyed the moment before Henry was the one pulling him off and coming all over Louis’ face, eyelashes, and cheeks. 

“There’s something about you that makes me feel young again,” the duke said. “Wish I could carry a picture of you like this with me wherever I go.” 

Louis laughed, taking the corner of his bedsheet to wipe the cum out of his eyes. 

He opened them to see Henry staring at him with open admiration. 

“Let me return the favor,” he said, gesturing at Louis’ small bulge that was peeking out of his silk robe. 

“It’s fine,” Louis denied him. “I wasn’t lying, I am tired.” He faked a yawn. 

“We have rehearsals all day tomorrow,” Henry said. “I”m looking forward to seeing you as the lead. Perhaps then I could stay the night?” he asked tentatively.

Louis knew that Henry could stay there as long as he wanted, hell, he owned half of the Moulin Rouge now and yet, he didn’t force it. Perhaps he internally knew that something was going on or realized the fact of why Louis was so reticent. Either way, Louis felt that perhaps he knew more than he let on. The fact was he didn’t need to ask for Louis’ permission, he didn’t need to ask to court Louis either and yet he did. Louis felt the same pain in his heart again. 

“I think you could spend the night if you so choose,” he said, bringing himself up to kiss Henry. 

“I should leave you to your beauty sleep then, not that you need it,” Henry answered. Louis rolled his eyes as Henry buckled himself back up. “No one told me you were such a charmer, I learn more about you every time,” Louis said, going for levity but Henry, standing and placing his hands on Louis’ shoulders, spoke so honestly.

“I feel like I learn more about you as well, dove, don’t forget to put those flowers in water.”

He had barely let the door snick closed when Harry staggered out of the closet.

“You love seeing my jealous side don’t you? I wonder if you know how jealous I really am over you?” 

He stalked forward to where Louis was standing, breathless.

“That wasn’t about the duke was it? You just wanted me to show you how much I love you, how much I ache for you. Give me an emotion, I’m looking for something to buy

“Are your reciting your play or is this-”

Louis words were cut off by the press of Harry’s lips. He kissed him like an ocean wave, threatening to drag Louis under. 

“Do you want to get off, doll?”

Louis nodded his head frantically. 

“Get on the bed.”

Louis scrambled to obey. Harry made quick work of his clothes. 

“You look beautiful, spread out for me,” Harry said, trailing his fingers over Louis’ curves. 

“I know you’re sore so I’m not going to fuck you.”

Louis let out a whimper. 

“I know baby, but I’m going to get you off, don’t worry about that.”

He surveyed him slowly which had Louis blushing. He knew what marks the duke left on his body, maybe even the imprint of the necklace. He had bruises from both of them.

“I love how much smaller than me you are,” Harry confessed. He loomed over Louis on the bed, pressing their bodies together. His cock was hard bumping into Louis’ thigh.

“It makes me just want to fuck you that much harder because I know you can take it.” 

Louis was leaking steadily, precum dripping. Harry dipped his finger in it, smearing it over Louis’ tender hole. 

“Do you know how much I wish you’d never have to touch another man again? That you were just mine to fuck, to protect?”

Louis didn’t want to look up into Harry’s too-honest eyes.

Harry huffed out a small self deprecating laugh. 

“Maybe you don’t want to hear it but I’d give anything mon cheri.”

“Stop talking,” Louis said and grabbed Harry’s face to lower it down into a biting kiss.

He gasped as Harry’s finger entered him slowly. Harry took advantage of his silence.

“Your hole is so tiny, love. How’d it take both me and the duke? You’re just so hungry for it aren’t you?” 

 Louis knew he wasn’t going to get fucked but still, the constant pressure on his prostate was enough. He reached out and grabbed Harry’s cock, stiff and heavy in his trousers. 

“Bet you’re gonna come in your pants just from bringing me to pleasure,” Louis purred. He felt Harry jerk underneath his fingers. He gasped as the two fingers massaging his prostate became three. It was just to the point of becoming painful, but Harry kept going. 

“Come for me love, I know you want to. I know you waited so I’d be the one to see it and not him.” 

Louis moaned until the sensations became too much and he came all over Harry’s front. Harry brushed Louis’ hand aside and took himself in hand, coming all over Louis’ thighs. Afterwards, their sticky heated bodies lay entwined under Louis’ meager covers. Like this, Louis felt like he could tell Harry anything. Perhaps it was the darkness, perhaps it was that Louis had never felt as close to someone, but he felt that he should be more honest with Harry. He stroked his fingers down Harry’s muscled back

“You know the worst part of this whole thing is that the duke is an honorable man.”

His voice sounded feeble in the quiet. Harry moved his head to look Louis’ in the eye. He could feel Harry’s sigh before it left his chest. 

“I know he is. I could tell by the way he touched you. I don’t like seeing it, hell, I’d call the man out if we were equals.”

“But we aren’t equals,” Louis said. The world had thrown them such a bad hand, meeting like this at the worst of times. 

“Do you really feel like you must marry him?” Harry asked him, his voice deadly serious.

Louis let the question dissipate in the air. He knew the answer just as clearly as Harry. He just didn’t want to verbalize it. He wanted to cling to fantasy for as long as he could. 

“Wish I could vanish inside your kiss,” Harry sang under his breath. He was kissing Louis’ sweaty fringe, holding him tighter. 

Louis craned his neck upwards. “What’s that from? It’s pretty.” 

“From the musical section of the play. Something I wrote for us, a secret love song.” 

Louis heart warmed. Harry wrote something for him, for them. Even if all went according to plan and the Moulin Rouge was saved, if Louis married the duke and moved to Europe, he would have this. 

“Are all the songs about me?” he asked, turning so that they were facing each other, mirroring each other’s body pose. 

“Now who is conceited,” Harry teased while Louis stuck out his tongue. 

“I think more or less every song is about you,” Harry said seriously. 

“I’ve always hoped that I would fall in love one day, but I didn’t realize it would be like this,” Harry mused. 

“Like what?” Louis asked

“That it would feel like I’m whole but also that I’ll never wake from this dream again. That it’s too sweet.”

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Their rehearsals started immediately the following morning. Simon wanted the show up and running as it was to be Louis’ last heading performance and it was going to be billed that way. The Sparkling Diamond’s last show before going up in the world, Simon knew how to get people in the seats. Personally, Louis thought, Simon spent more than he should, which is why the Moulin Rouge was in danger in the first place.

The show wasn’t very long but it did have multiple songs for which Louis in particular had to rehearse. They had cast Zayn as the hopeful lover, the poor man who was in love with Louis. For the evil king, Simon himself wanted a starring role. Louis didn’t have the inclination to disagree with him. The show had evolved into a singing and dancing extravaganza. It was set in a stylized medieval setting which meant new costumes and new sets. They even had a fake tower where Louis would sing down to Zayn, inviting him to try and climb. The story was simple. A noble, Louis, had fallen in love with a poor but noble man, Zayn. Opposed to their marriage was the evil king played by Simon who wanted Louis for his own ends. The moral of the story, as Harry and Niall wrote, was that love, beauty, truth, and freedom mattered above all. The values of the Bohemian Revolution would be sung in front of packed audiences bi-nightly for a month. Harry and Niall were ecstatic of course.

Louis rose early those days, to come and help with the sets, which were kept behind a the velvet curtain during normal nightly hours to keep up the suspense. Already, Simon had criers on the street with pamphlets detailing the new show. The duke arrived every day after lunch to oversee the preparations and to spend time with Louis. For all that Louis was not a romantic, it seemed that Henry was his polar opposite in that respect. He always brought him flowers or gifts, now in a pile overwhelming Louis’ tiny room. He even took him out of the every day mundane by taking him on picnics when Louis wasn’t rehearsing.

It was sweet, and Louis often wondered if that was to be his life. Would Henry allow him to perform if they got married? He knew he would have to broach the subject eventually, but he was afraid. He was happier than he’d ever been, backstage with Harry, brushing hands backstage, stealing glances at each other, having a tumble in the storage closets. All the sneaking around was thrilling and yet, his time with Henry wasn’t awful. In fact, he looked forward to the occasions were they would walk around the park, Kal beside them. It felt perfectly pleasant and domestic, but he knew what Henry felt for him was something that he couldn’t return with the same ardor. If he had never met Harry, he thought it possible he could, with time, love Henry. He wasn’t a terrible bore, he was handsome, wealthy and yet, Louis didn’t feel the spark. Whenever he was with Harry, whatever stolen moments they had together, were bittersweet but also meant everything to him. His favorite moments with Harry were the soft domestic ones, moments that weren’t motivated by desire but closeness. Just holding each other while the city moved around them. Harry would read him sections of the play and sing the finalized versions of the songs while Louis watched him, a soft smile on his face. It was terrifying to be felt known and to feel like that in return. He didn’t want it to end, although he knew either way it would.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

The costumes for the production were some of the most creative Louis had seen. The gowns and dresses for the dancers and for him were modern but also classic. He still wore a corset but the fabrics were darker, the cut of them showing off this curves but also concealing like a tease. His favorite was the main costume, a dress with low shoulders, corset, and slinky train. 

It wasn’t in the least historically accurate, but it was easy on the eyes and even better to sing in. The fabric was a dark blue, emphasizing his own blue eyes. Henry had lost his breath when he had first seen him. Even in the front rows, the color shone like a sapphire and the fabric showed his figure to his best advantage.

“You could really be all the jewels in the world,” Henry had told him while they were having a picnic. Louis scoffed. 

“Do you really not like being told how beautiful you are?” Henry asked. 

He had picked the perfect secluded spot for a picnic in the French countryside. Louis leaned back to bask in the autumn sunshine. He cracked one eye open as he observed Henry, who was watching him intently. 

“Don’t you get tired of complimenting me?” Louis asked, genuinely curious. 

Henry laughed. “Honestly no. I love to look at you, I think you’re enchanting.” 

Perhaps now would be the time to bring up acting once they married, IF they did. 

“Henry, if we do get married, do you expect me to give up my aspirations for the stage?” he asked quietly. 

He watched the duke just as intently as he was being watched. 

“If you want my honesty, then yes, I would prefer you didn’t act.” 

Louis heart wrenched 

“But,” the duke went on, “I think that I could convince you there are other aspirations you could pursue. As my partner, you could help the poor, which I know is dear to your heart. We could invest in schools, and you could teach a new generation the acting skills you have learned. There wouldn’t be a thing you couldn’t achieve if you were part of the Cavill name.” 

“But I wouldn’t be singing or acting on stage,” Louis said, no inflection in his voice. 

Henry heard it however, blast the man for noticing. 

He brought Louis closer, cradling him in his arms so that his mouth was to his ear. 

“I know how much you love performing, and if it really was what your heart desired, I wouldn’t hinder you, but I wouldn't encourage it either.” 

“I’m not really sure how I feel about that,” Louis said. He didn’t know a life without being a performer. There was nothing like singing or acting to an audience, something he knew that he had a gift for. It seemed cruel to him that everything else his heart desired would be his except for that. To the reverse was Harry. If he denied the duke and refused to marry him, what future would he and Harry have? They could be in the deepest love but what would happen if they left France? Suppose they traveled to America or another foreign shore. Would it be enough to be happy and in love? Suppose he couldn’t act there either without wealth or connections? His mind was in a tumult. 

“Dove, I know it must grieve you, but I do think it’s for the best,” Henry murmured in his ear. 

Louis felt no ill will towards him. It’s what he imagined would probably happen. What duchess goes to the stage after marrying into nobility? It was a pipe dream all along, and he knew it. He just had to decide which was more important to him. And could he live a life without Harry?

Surrounded by Henry in the not quite silent nature, he had a feeling he could. He could live without love, had been doing it all these years but it was good that he knew now.

“Yes, I understand,” Louis said, closing his eyes. 

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Louis’ favorite song out of the music was the last song between the lovers before they run off together, defying the evil king. There was no definite ending. Do they run off into happiness? Does their love survive in a cruel world? It was up to the viewer to decide although Harry had called it a happy ending. The duet between him and Zayn was beautiful and moving. Even more so when Louis realized Harry had written it for him. From the set tower he sang his part while his eyes were moved towards Harry watching him backstage. 

And there's no mountain too high

No river too wide

Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide

But I love you

Until the end of time

But Louis found there was someone else watching him. Simon was looking between him and Harry. For all the two weeks they had been rehearsing, Louis thought he and Harry had been discreet enough. Yes, they hadn’t exactly been subtle but he knew that Henry hadn’t caught on at least.

Simon ordered him to his office after rehearsal. Dread filled Louis. He must have noticed something or someone had mentioned how close Harry and him were acting.

Simon’s door was unlocked so Louis let himself in. His boss wasn’t behind his desk but was stood looking out into the city streets below. Everything was in a state of disorder. Louis let out a little cough, and Simon turned. 

“You wanted to see me?” he asked politely. 

“Who is this playwright to you?” he said, coming straight to the point. 

Louis released a small laugh.

“He’s a diversion, nothing more.” 

“Really,” Simon stalked over towards him, “because I have it on some authority that he’s been staying in your room at night without paying anything. He’s here every single day, and his eyes never leave your face. Did you think I would not notice? It’s clear that you’re infatuated with him while you should be focusing on securing the duke.” 

Louis was sick and tired of this man ordering around his life. He may have his contract and half of Louis’ salary but he was tired of subterfuge. 

“Yes and? I finally met someone who loves me for who I am.”

Simon barked out a laugh

“For who you are? You are a whore, boy. If you weren’t so beautiful do you think the duke would have noticed you? I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me?”

Louis whirled around in anger. 

“What you’ve given me? You’ve made me into some untouchable creature. All my life you’ve made me think I was only worth what someone would pay for me!” 

Simon looked at him coldly. 

“You think the boy really loves you when you give your body to men for money. When you sell your looks for trinkets? If you ever left here where would you be? I raised you. We are creatures of the underworld, of the night. We can’t afford to love.”

Louis wanted to cry but he would not in front of a man like Simon. Once long ago he had even thought of Simon as a father figure. The way that he spent so much time and effort in educating Louis and then, his training as a courtesan, he knew then that Simon would only use him like a tool. 

“You don’t know Harry.”

“My boy a man is like any other. You need to marry the duke, not just for yourself but for your friends. Who do you think will suffer if you don’t?”

He let the threat hang in the air. 

“I think we’re done here, Mr. Cowell. I’ll take your advice into account,” Louis said in a voice that most certainly implied that he wouldn’t. 

Simon grabbed his arm. “You would do well not to cross me.” 

Louis yanked his arm back, stalking out of the room. 

He knew that Simon had power and influence, not enough to get him out of monetary trouble, but he had no doubt that Simon could make his and his friends lives at the Moulin Rouge a living nightmare. If he was kicked out where would he go? The Moulin Rouge provided him with a room, food, clothing, a place to stay. It was all the home he had ever known. Simon had shaped him into the perfect courtesan, the perfect accessory for a duke’s arm. All of his life Simon had drilled into him that he was worth only what men would pay for him. He thought back to what he had told him, that Harry’s love was worth everything. Was it? He liked to think so but he had fallen in love so quickly, so fast, and what if their circumstances were to change? He not only had to think of himself but his friends too. He had to end things with Harry so completely that Harry wouldn’t come back after the musical was performed. His heart was already broken, the choice had been made. He knew what he had to do.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

He went to his room to change into one of the outfits the duke had gifted him. The top half was a grey pelisse with puffed sleeves and a velvet corseted middle which then shaped out a full gown. He fixed his hat with the lace on top of his head. He wanted the outfit to make a statement, to show who he chose above all others. He knew rehearsals were happening with the dancers that didn’t require his presence. He knew that Simon had probably already left his office, waiting to see what Louis would do. He already knew that he had the winning hand.  He looked into the mirror, surveying his somber yet stylish outfit. He looked like a duchess even standing in these threadbare rooms. He was what Simon had made him. He turned away. 

The dancehall was flush with bodies rehearsing before the night began. It was close to sunset, and Louis could feel the frantic energy around him. 

He saw the duke at his usual table observing. Sometimes Louis forgot how involved he was with this, how much he cared about the quality of the show but also, he had placed a lot of money in the show and in Louis.

His eyes widened as he took in Louis’ attire. Louis knew that most people were watching him, could feel the burning eyes of Harry on his back. 

“Would you like to take a walk, duke?” Louis asked.

Henry looked confused, this wasn’t their usual time for a traipse around the park, but he readily agreed. His pristine white shirt was rolled up at the elbows, the neckline showing his throat. He saw a few dancers looking at him from afar, admiring the skin shown. 

Henry offered him his arm, and they made their way towards the entrance and into the city air. 

“Is something that matter? You seem very quiet. This isn’t our normal hour for an outing,” Henry said as they walked towards the city garden paths. The wind was sharp and a little cold, and Louis shivered hoping it wasn’t a bad omen. Not that he believed in such things but he hadn’t believed in love either…

He shook himself from his thoughts and smiled up at the duke. 

“I have thought about your proposal, and I would like to accept,” he said simply. 

Henry stopped in the middle of the path, Louis slightly ahead of him. 

“Louis, are you serious? You’re not teasing me are you?”

He came to Louis, searching his eyes for the truth. 

Louis bit his lip. “No I’m not teasing you, I mean to accept your proposal if you’ll still have me.” 

“Have you?” Henry laughed outright startling the passers by

“Louis, do you know that you’re making me the happiest man in all of France right now? Do you know how long I’ve waiting to hear you say that you’d accept ME?”

Suddenly, Louis was being lifted and twirled around. He couldn’t help but laugh. Henry’s face was filled with pure happiness, and Louis’ heart twinged a bit. He shouldn’t feel guilty. He was saving his friends, his home, but in his heart he felt he might not be able to love Henry the way that he deserved. 

“My love are you alright? Why do you seem sad?” Henry had placed Louis back on the ground, his hands on his waist, holding him securely. 

“It just feels bittersweet,” he said. “I’m going to be leaving the only home I’ve ever known…” 

“Dove, I hope you know that I won’t keep you from seeing your friends here, you’re free to do as you wish, and I know that helping people is in your blood. Just think of all the good we’ll be able to do, side by side,” Henry said. 

Louis couldn’t help but smile at him, he was so earnest. Henry dropped to his knee, startling Louis. 

“I’ve been carrying this ring around in my pocket ever since that night you first came to me.” He fished out a small antique looking ring box. Louis heart leapt to his throat, heartbeat racing. Louis trembling hands reached to open it revealing a diamond ring with two smaller sapphires attached. He gasped. Henry’s eyes were glistening. 

“Do you like it? It was my mother’s.” 

“Oh Henry you can’t give me this it was your mother’s, I cant possibly wear it.”

“Of course you can, she would have loved for you to wear it.” 

Henry slid the ring on Louis’ finger, a perfect fit.  

“It’s too beautiful, I cant stop staring at it,” Louis said, watching how the sunlight played across the gemstones. 

“Me either,” Henry said, his eyes never leaving Louis’ face. 

Louis stammered and blushed. 

“Well here’s a first, I just made you blush from a compliment,” Henry grinned.

Louis looked up at him wonderingly. It still made him question how Henry could love a courtesan like him. 

“Out of all the rich men and women in Paris and in the world, you choose me? I don’t understand why,” Louis said. 

“Don’t you? You think of yourself so lowly,”

Louis tried to shrug, but Henry kept ahold of his hands. 

“Why do you think I pursued you? Yes, I knew you to be beautiful but I confess I thought you could have been duplicitous or cunning. There are many fortune hunters out there, but I realized you were not one of them.”

“And how did you know that?” Louis asked curiously. 

“The way you reacted to the necklace and all the gifts. Did you think I did not notice you sharing your clothes with some of the dancers and the desserts I sent you? I’m not as unobservant as you might think. You have a kind heart, Louis.”

Louis looked at his intertwined fingers with the duke, his small hand being encased in the larger. This was to be his life now. 

“We should announce it to the Moulin Rouge,” he said. Of course Harry wouldn’t miss the ring on his finger but he needed to make it public. He needed for it to be over. 

“I don’t think we need to formally announce it yet, but you can tell your friends, of course. And I hope you’ll care to introduce me to them as well,” Henry said. They made their way back towards the Moulin Rouge, knowing that full rehearsal would start soon. Louis tried to pay attention to the duke, but his hand felt weighed down by the ring and all it stood for. 

Everyone knew as soon as they saw the sparkling ring on his finger what had happened. He heard the whispers as he kissed Henry goodbye, leaving him at the table. Simon was watching him, eyes zeroed in where Louis brought his hand up to brush his cheek. He didn’t stay to see him walking over to the duke, smug smile on his face. 

Of course the dancers were the first to congratulate him. 

“Louis! Look at that rock on your finger!” Bebe squealed. “It’s such a perfect ring for you!”

“Did you think that was being subtle?” Taylor asked him, brow raised but laughing while she hugged him. 

“I really hope he makes you happy,” she said.

He knew when Harry was in the room before the others did. He could feel the burning stare on his finger. He gave the dancers a warm smile and stepped out to where he saw Harry waiting for him. 

“So that’s it then,” Harry said. He was as still as a stone, and Louis’ heart ached. He braced himself internally.

“You didn’t even tell me this is what you decided?” Harry said, pushing Louis towards an empty corridor. Thankfully, the floor was mostly deserted except for the dancers in the other room.

“I don’t owe you anything, Harry. What we had was fun, but now it’s over. I’m engaged,” Louis said flatly. 

Harry looked pained, he grabbed his hair by the roots and pulled. Louis wanted to stop him, to place a kiss on his cheek, but that’s wasn’t his right, not anymore. 

“You can’t tell me that I meant nothing to you, Louis,” Harry said, trying to bring Louis into his embrace. 

“Look, I made my choice, I’m marrying the duke, and we can’t do this anymore. It’s not right,” Louis said, trying to be forceful. 

“Not right? What’s not right is that you’re choosing money over your happiness, what’s not right is that you love me! I know you do!“ Harry looked half wild.

“Louis I know you, I know that the duke won’t make you happy the way that I do. What we have is special,” Harry said. He made no move to get closer.

“What we had,” Louis placed an emphasis on the word, “was nothing that I haven’t had with other men, don’t you see? It was just a flight of fancy. I’m marrying the duke.”

He didn’t want to see Harry’s face, he knew the look of anguish would mirror his own. He couldn’t risk Harry seeing how he really felt, that it was tearing him apart. 

“The time we spent together was lovely, but I have no wish to continue. I hope we’ll be able to work together but nothing more,” Louis stated mechanically as if it were a business transaction.

“Work together before the duke takes you away from this place. Do you think he’ll keep his promises once you are wed?” Harry asked. “What makes you trust him more than me?” Harry whispered. 

“I have to go,” Louis said, and it took all of his strength to leave Harry there and not run back into his arms crying for forgiveness. 

“I thought you were different, Louis. I guess you are what they say after all. A whore is a whore,” Harry spit out, and Louis felt the words like daggers in his back. He knew that Harry didn’t mean it, would never truly say that to him but in the heat of the moment, he had. Is that what he thought Louis was doing? That he would give up everything just for money. 

In Louis’ hour of need, he went to the person that was always there for him. 

Zayn was in his bedroom, clothes strewn all around as if he couldn’t decide what to wear. 

Zayn looked up from his sewing, he had glasses on his face squinting at a piece of fabric. He knew immediately something was wrong. 

“What happened? Are you alright?” Zayn asked with concern in his voice. 

Louis could barely step a foot into the room before he was sobbing openly. 

“Oh Lou, what happened?”

 Louis fell into Zayn’s arms. He couldn’t even try to get words out yet, his tears speaking for him. His friend held him for as long as he liked, murmuring words of comfort. 

“I ended things with Harry,” he said, his voice croaking. 

“Yes, and I see that you accepted the duke's proposal. I confess I’m sad you didn’t come to show me first,” Zayn gently teased, taking up Louis’ hand to look at the engagement ring. 

“He has very good taste,” Zayn admitted. 

Louis gave him a watery smile. 

“I can’t help but ask, why are you so upset? I thought what you had with Harry was just a passing fancy,” Zayn spoke in a knowing manner. 

“You were right all along, is that what you want to hear? I did fall in love with Harry but the duke is so kind, and he said he would help all of us so in the long run it’s better for me to marry him,” Louis rushed out, all the things he was feeling mounting in his chest. 

“Are you really marrying the duke out of obligation towards the Moulin Rouge? Because you don’t owe Simon anything,” Zayn said firmly. 

“No, I know that but I want to help you, and the dancers, and Niall, and Harry.” His voice broke on the last name. 

He stood up from Zayn, pacing back and forth, his hands clenched. 

“I ended things with Harry, and now he thinks I’m just a money grabber. I couldn’t do it unless he hated me, but then he called me a whore-“

“He did what?” Zayn yelled.

Louis turned to look at his friends furious face. 

“He didn’t mean it, I know he didn’t but it still hurt me.” 

“Louis, even if he said it out of anger, that’s still not right. I know you think that you must do this for us but you must think of your own happiness for once. All you do is think of others,” Zayn said.

“Simon told me that if I didn’t marry the duke he would make everyone suffer,” Louis said. Seeing the look on Zayn’s face, he continued immediately. “Don’t look at me like that, I know that he isn’t bluffing. This means a lot to him, he can and will do it. The duke is a kind man with a good heart. At least there is that,” Louis finished. 

Zayn stood up and walked towards him, opening his slender arms to take Louis into his embrace. 

“You are the most selfless person I know, and I know you think you’re doing the right thing, and maybe you are, but I hope you won’t regret it years to come.”   

They stood there for a few moments just holding each other. 

“By the way, you need to introduce me to this duke. Everyone is intimidated by him, I don’t think the girls do anything but stare, and I don’t blame them,” Zayn said. 

Louis finally let out a little giggle which in turn made his friend smile back. 

“I think you should have told Harry the truth though, Lou,” Zayn said seriously. “He doesn’t know that Simon is trying to blackmail you.”

“He doesn’t need to know. Harry is too passionate for his own good sometimes. He would have tried to stop Simon, and I don’t want him to get hurt. It’s better this way. A clean break.”

“If you say so.”

“Did you mean what you said? Do you want to meet the duke?” Louis asked tentatively. As much as he told himself differently, he did want his closest friend to approve. 

“I wouldn’t say so if I didn’t want to,” Zayn chided. 

“I think everyone is scared to approach him because he looks intimidating,” he continued.

Louis smiled. “He may look it but he’s a big softie.”

“Are you ready for opening night?” Zayn asked, changing the subject.

“I think so, are you?”  

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Nervous.” Zayn smiled tightly. 

While he was one of the best singers Louis had ever heard, Zayn had severe stage fright. 

“We’ve rehearsed it backwards and forwards, we know all of the songs. Trust me, it will be fine. And besides, you’ll have me there,” Louis said.

“I know, you always have my back,” Zayn said with a smile.

“Always,” Louis answered.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Louis didn’t see Harry at the rehearsals and he didn’t see him when introduced Henry to the rest of the cast. They all knew who he was but they hadn’t interacted with him, his wealth and influence hard to see past. But Henry was genuinely an easy going person and once the introductions were done, the cast seemed to warm to him. It didn’t hurt that Henry always brought fresh croissants and fresh fruit which had people in high spirits. 

“I have to admit he’s kinder than I thought he would be,” Zayn said as they were standing to the side watching Henry help stage a scene. 

“His eyes always find you, did you notice that? It’s almost the same as Harry,” Zayn mused. 

Louis felt his wound open as Zayn said Harry’s name. It didn’t escape him that Niall was there but Harry wasn’t. 

“Niall told me that Harry has been drinking and staying out all night,” Zayn said and even though Louis didn’t want to hear it, even if Harry had found someone else so soon, he needed to hear what Zayn had to say. 

“Oh?” Louis said, feigning nonchalance. He couldn’t fool his friend though. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, but he’s left Niall in the lurch.”

“Yeah, I noticed that he wasn’t here,” Louis said. 

Zayn snorted. “Yeah because he’s usually staring at you, I’m pretty sure the whole company noticed he’s missing now.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Louis asked. He didn’t know which option he’d want more, if he wanted Harry gone forever or if he wanted to see him.  Both options hurt, there was no lesser pain.

“I really loved him,” Louis whispered. Although he hadn’t meant for Zayn to overhear, he did. “I know,” Zayn said, and they watched the rest of the dance rehearsal in companionable silence.

 Henry caught his eye, his expression softening. 

“At least he really cares about the people here,” Zayn said. Louis knew it was true, but for every duke like Henry there were a thousand more Simon Cowells. Louis tried to smile back although it didn’t feel quite real. He was going to have to face the fact that he would never see Harry again. He had made a choice, and he would have to stick with it. 

The musical was called “l'amour vainc tout”. Simon had announced to everyone that the first night was a full house, all the tickets had been sold. While the Moulin Rouge was not a premier theatre and this was their first full blown production, the dancehall had been transformed. Louis wondered at how Simon had managed this and thought perhaps Simon’s empty pockets ran deeper than he knew. It was a suspicion that he had long been forming in his mind since Simon had been scheming for him to marry the duke. 

He hadn’t had a chance to bring it up with Henry. The atmosphere was tense and hectic with opening night looming before them. Louis wasn’t as excited as he felt he should be but perhaps it had to do with Harry being missing. Zayn and Niall had gotten into a lover’s quarrel that Zayn wouldn’t elaborate on. He thought it had something to do with Harry. If Harry had left France, he wouldn’t blame him. Louis wondered what he would have done if their situations had been reversed. He had known no other way but this.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

In Louis’ experience, the first night of a new performance were much the same. He was nervous, fidgety, excited but this time, a new emotion was in play. He felt a bittersweet feeling at this being his last production with the Moulin Rouge. The need to move on was strong even though he knew it was him moving up in society and not performing again. He would miss the lights, the costumes, his friends. Years ago when he was just a simple courtesan, he had dreamed of doing those very things, having his spotlight and the glamorous costumes, not having to spend every night with a different man. Simon had crafted him into the Sparkling Diamond but not before Louis experienced what it was like as a common harlot. He wanted better for those like him and with the duke’s help, he could make a difference. Perhaps not as big as he would like but it was still change even if it meant giving up what he loved doing. 

He got ready that night, watching all of his friends, fellow dancers, prostitutes. He had never met a group of people more different or more accepting. 

Taylor, of course, could tell he was in a reflective mood. The costumes for the backup choir were similar to Louis’ but less sparkly, the colors muted. Taylor was wearing a light blue gown with sequins on the hem that sparkled when she moved. 

“You look like you’re about to cry,” she said. Even though her tone was light, she looked at him with concern. 

“It’s nothing,” he said with a small smile. “It’s just I’m going to miss you all so much.”

“You have the chance to live in a mansion with a member of the realm and you’re going to miss us! I hope you forget about us and live the high life!” she said. 

“As if I could forget about my favorite dancer!”

“I heard that!” Leigh Anne shouted, fixing her ballet flats. 

“C’mon, it’s show time,” Taylor said, bustling them out. 

Louis and Zayn were huddled behind the curtain moments before showtime. He could tell Zayn was nervous, his energy was at once high and low. “Just follow my lead if you forget a line or a note,” Louis said. “I’m here for you, you’re going to do so well!” 

They put their foreheads together, and Louis gripped Zayn’s elbow. He knew that the duke was in the first row, in the center. Louis felt nervous, not because he was performing but because many of the dukes peers were there. Surely they didn’t approve of the duke marrying someone so far out of his social class. He had to remind himself, he was worthy. He was a premier courtesan of the Moulin Rouge, he was the Sparkling Diamond. He took a deep breath and peaked around the curtain onto the brightly lit stage. He couldn’t see Henry, the crowd was a blur of dark faces. 

The part of the narrator was played by Bebe, who had the job of setting the different scenes. The play wasn’t actually that long but the musical interludes were the meat of the show, Louis thought they were the best parts. Here is where Love Never Dies shined. He gave Zayn one last squeeze as he moved towards the fake tower where his first song was.

His first costume was one he hoped he would be able to take with him when he left. It was ivory silk with a cinched bodice, beaded with tiny crystals that looked like diamonds. He was going to miss his long chats with the production team, how they fit his costumes to perfection. He was wearing a less dramatic version of the necklace Henry commissioned but it still hugged his neck like a choker, diamonds dripping down his throat. Simon didn’t care much about historical accuracy and to be honest, with costumes this beautiful, they didn’t need to. Bebe’s narration was over, and the soft swelling of the orchestra began. This was one of Louis’ favorites songs from the production, and his heart hurt knowing Harry had written it for and about him.

He could hear a pin drop as he reached the outside of the stage. The music would follow him as he climbed. He started softly singing as the spotlight framed his face.

I follow the night,

Can’t stand the light,

When will I begin to live again?

The music began to build as he climbed the staircase which was visible to the audience.

One day I’ll fly away, leave all this to yesterday 

Why live life from dream to dream? And dread the day 

That dreaming ends

The music reached its fever peak, the strings haunting and frantic. Louis reached the part of the stairs that jutted out towards a balcony, singing the last part of his solo song. He belted out the last lyrics, the audience attention rapt on his figure. 

What more could your love do for me? 

When will love be through with me?

The music quieted, the strings going down to a murmur, the music sad and nostalgic. 

One day I’ll fly away…far away…

He held out the last notes as the music came to a slow end. His face was pointed down, his heartbeat racing as the audience broke out into applause. He had to tamp down his grin at how well it had gone, how happy he felt singing these beautiful songs. The first song was over and as the audience finally stopped clapping, Zayn appeared offstage as his character saw Louis for the first time. How like Harry to write something with love at first sight, Louis thought with a pang. It was Zayn’s turn for a song as he pretended to lounge on the balcony, keeping in view of the audience. He peaked to see if he could discern anyone yet but the lights were too blinding. It seemed Simon had spared no expense although at this moment, Louis couldn’t fault him. The stage and the set had never looked more beautiful. Even the dance hall had been transformed into a theater with plush velvet seating, amazing to think it was also a bordello. 

Zayn’s song ended, and the next act began with Louis spotting Zayn and falling in love with him. He remembered how he had rolled his eyes at Niall and Harry but they had insisted that it had to be this way. The story was that the evil king wanted to have Louis all to himself, he was barred from ever leaving the tower. Of course the noble character he was playing left the tower in secret to meet his lover. The names were generic and it was easier to remember seeing as the only ones that had speaking parts were Zayn, Louis, and Simon. The commonplace lover, the noble, and the king. The dancers parts were mostly in the background, although he didn’t have much time to notice, having his own routine. It seemed that the crowd was loving it. They gasped and booed in the right places. Every time Simon was onstage he could feel the smug smirk as he glanced around the room. He knew he had a hit on his hands. Louis couldn’t think of another playwright that could fuse romance, drama, and music so seamlessly. He wished Harry was here to at least see how well received it was, how the audience was rapt. The duet between the noble and the lover, where the noble returns the lover’s affections had people clapping and giving them a standing ovation. Zayn’s showcase had the dancers surrounding him, throwing out flowers to the audience with Louis joining the dancers. He finally spotted a beaming Henry in the crowd whose grin crooked enticingly when he noticed Louis’ attention.

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen 

Zayn sang as the simple song went on around Louis. They danced around in an arc before finally coming towards the center of the stage.

I hope you don’t mind that I put into words how wonderful life is now you’re in the world 

No longer could Louis see the signs of nervousness around Zayn. He was so proud of him for conquering his fears. Zayn’s song come to an end where the evil king found them together. It was nearing the end of the musical, Louis’ favorite song, the one he had come to think of as his and Harry’s was next. The evil king leaves the noble locked in the tower. Zayn had already exited the stage leaving Louis and Simon to act out their scene before the finale. The lovers would reunite one last time before escaping, singing the last song.

Louis didn’t have to pretend to feel the hurt or the anguish as someone locked in a tower, kept away from their love. He felt it keenly as he started singing the first verse.

Never knew I could feel like this

Like I've never seen the sky before

Want to vanish inside your kiss

Seasons may change, winter to spring

But I love you until the end of time

The orchestra went on, but Zayn wasn’t singing. Perplexed, Louis thought maybe he had forgotten the stage directions. The spotlight was still on him so he pretended like the pause was natural and let the music go on. Zayn was supposed to greet him from the bottom of the tower steps but still he didn’t appear. Louis was growing alarmed though he tried not to show it. He walked to the edge of the balcony, the music still going but now it was just repeating his part as if they didn’t know what was going on. He felt a ripple of unease and the audience must have felt it too because he heard a whispering start up. He saw a figure that wasn’t Zayn coming from the side stage not dressed in costume. Louis felt his whole body jolt. It was Harry. 

He had started to sing Zayn’s part. Heedless of the stage directions, Louis began to drift down the stairs.

And there's no mountain too high

No river too wide

Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide

Louis was getting nearer to him, it felt like a year, an age had gone by. He was entranced by Harry, couldn’t believe he was on stage singing to him and why?

But I love you until the end of time

Harry sang straight to Louis, his eyes meeting his. Louis’ own eyes were glistening as everything else faded away. Harry’s large hands found his own as they sang the last part together. He felt the theater, all his cares and worries fade away, he could have been on a different planet, there was nothing but the music and Harry.

The orchestra reached the fever pitch as the song reached the climax

Come what may

Come what may

I will love you

Until my dying day  

The crowd didn’t care if the main cast member had changed for a moment. They sprang from their seats as soon as the song was done, clapping uproariously. Louis and Harry were still lost in their little world, but he felt when the rest of the dancers came for their bows and the orchestra too. He broke out of his trance when he saw Zayn. He was mouthing something to him that he couldn’t understand. Harry’s hand was still warm in his. He quickly tugged him away from the audience, backstage. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you left France? Why did you take Zayn’s place?” Louis asked quickly.

All these questions were left unanswered as Harry kissed him. It was curious how quickly Louis’ thoughts left his mind when Harry’s lips were on his. He had missed how intensely Harry kissed him as if he were the only person in the world. 

“I came back for you,” Harry said, both of his hands roaming Louis’ body as if he wanted to memorize it. 

“I don’t even care if you marry the duke, I can’t let you think that I hate you. What I said is unforgivable. I should never have called you a whore, I didn’t mean it,” Harry rambled, unable to let go of Louis’ body.

“I can’t tell you that it didn’t hurt me but I know it was only said out of anger and not because you really believe that,” Louis said gently. 

They were behind the curtain but he was still afraid that Simon would see them. He wouldn’t put it past him to have the bodyguards kick him out or worse. 

“You’re too good for me, Lou. I know this. I know you deserve jewels and finer things and a beautiful home. I know you deserve the duke, but I had to come back and tell you. I had to tell you that I’ll love you forever. All of my songs are about you, that I didn’t mean what I said before.” 

Louis heard the anguish in his voice that mirrored his own. 

“Oh, darling,” Louis said, holding Harry’s shaking body to his own.

“I should have been honest with you from the start. Simon has been holding my contract over my head for as long as I can remember. I don’t have enough money to get out of it even with all my years of earning here.” 

“He said that he’d make life miserable for everyone I love. And it’s not a hardship to marry someone honorable, someone that respects me,” Louis said. He wasn’t trying to hide his own tears, felt them trail down his cheeks.

He looked up from where he was cradling Harry’s larger body with his own, straight into the duke’s eyes. His whole body jolted. The look on Henry’s face wasn’t deceived or shocked but a look of terrible devastation. 

Louis quietly pushed Harry away from him. 

“I can explain,” Louis started out. Henry was looking at Harry. 

Henry huffed out a bitter laugh, something that Louis had never heard him do before.

“Did you think that I didn’t know you were seeing someone else? You weren’t exactly subtle, love,” Henry said in a soft voice. 

Louis grimaced, waiting for the fallout which appeared sooner than he expected when Simon rushed in. 

“YOU,” he thundered in a loud voice, pointing his finger at Harry. “You’re barred from the establishment, I’m going to have my men throw you out, you ingrate!”

He turned towards Henry, suddenly congenial. “I’m so sorry milord, I had no idea he was going to be here. He’s one of dearest Louis’ admirers that won’t take no for an answer,” he said.

Louis was about to protest when Henry drew up in a haughty manner Louis had never seen him take before. “Mr. Cowell, correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe that over half the Moulin Rogue belongs to me now.”

Simon looked put on the spot. “Ah milord perhaps in name only.”

Henry cut him off. “I think you’ll find that it’s more than name only, if I’m the one paying the bills, and most of the contracts belong to me.” 

Louis let out a quiet gasp. Could Henry have bought his contract? 

“I think we decided that Louis’ was the only,“ Simon started only for Henry to cut him off again, leaving the man red faced and gasping. 

“I find that you know little of how this business really works, Mr. Cowell,” Henry said in on overbearing voice. “I think you should leave it to the men who are paying for your bills or you may perhaps be in need of another job,” he said with finality. 

“Now I’ll have you escorted to your office by MY men,” Henry said as he cut Simon down to size. If Louis hadn’t been so keyed up, he would have enjoyed it more.

“My lawyer is going to have something to say about this, you can’t keep me from my own property!” Simon shouted. His cries were cut short by the bodyguards bodily moving him. His yelling was muffled and then grew silent. 

“I cannot stand that man,” Henry said, looking disgusted. 

“Was what he said true? Did you buy my contract?” Louis asked, his voice wavering.

“I always meant to buy out your contract, Louis, even if I had never met you,” Henry said. 

“Simon let it slip the other day what he was doing to you, how he held your friends contracts over them and over you. Did you know that I own most of this enterprise now? I intend to stop using contracts, at least the way that Simon used them,” he said, finally looking at Louis. 

 “You’re free to do as you wish now, your friends as well,” he said. The words were forced out of him, his fists clenched.

Louis knew that he wouldn’t be staying there, not after everything that happened. Harry had mentioned a brand new world, exploration, that was something Louis found that he wanted to discover. Part of him was hesitant as much as he wanted freedom. 

“Henry, I am so sorry,” he said. “I wish I could love you in the way that you deserve.” He took the last few steps to where Henry was standing apart from them.

“As long as you truly love him, I want you to be happy,” Henry said.

“I do,” Louis said simply.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done for you, dove,” Henry said, his voice breaking at the end. 

“I know.” He hesitated before taking the engagement ring off of his finger. He placed the shining diamond in the palm of Henry’s hand, closing his fist around him. 

“You should go before I try to steal you away,” Henry chuckled with eyes full of tears. Louis’ heart clenched, but he knew he should walk away now. He felt Harry come behind him, coaxing him away. 

“Take care of him,” Henry said. Louis knew the words were meant for Harry. 

His last glimpse of Henry was with his head lowered, clenching the ring in his hand, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

“We’re going to start over, Lou. Did you hear the applause tonight? Everyone loved the musical, imagine performing it in the theatres of New York? That’s a whole new world for us,” Harry said, and Louis smiled through his tears and the bittersweet feeling of leaving what he once called his home.

Louis didn’t have much to pack but he went through his meager belongings anyway. He hesitated before leaving the diamond choker in his bag, couldn’t part with it yet. 

“You know Zayn and Niall are coming with us right? Niall booked us passage on a ship out to America although, we have to travel to England first,” Harry said as he watched Louis give the room a final glance. He would miss France, he would miss his fellow dancers, but he knew there was more waiting for him outside those walls. 

“Oh I’m so happy they’re coming too,” Louis said, his heart lifting. His favorite people all starting a new journey with him, finally free to choose what they wanted.

They were leaving the Moulin Rouge on their own terms, in the way that they wanted, no longer would Simon haunt his thoughts. Harry grabbed his back and hefted it over his shoulder. 

“Are you ready my love?” he asked. Louis took his free hand and threaded their fingers together. “I’m ready,” he said.

Three days later and they arrived in England, tired and worn but thrumming with excitement. They weren’t exactly traveling first class but Louis was excited to cross the ocean to a place he had never seen before. They were doing something brave and exciting, and he couldn’t wait. 

“I”m glad you already have contacts there,” he said to Harry as they gathered up all their belongings. It wasn’t a lot but Zayn and Niall each had their own bag too. 

“Niall knows everyone,” Harry said laughing. Truly, Louis was relieved they weren’t going in blind. Niall knew some playwrights and critics that had already emigrated to America chasing fame and fortune there. They would at least have a place to stay before trying their hand at theatre. 

Before they left, Harry had proposed and Louis accepted. The ring he gave him had been solid gold with a tiny emerald, apparently something that cost Harry almost all of his paycheck from Simon. He looked at the ring now, snug on his finger and then back at Harry. This was the man that he was going to pledge himself to, his future husband. He smiled and kissed him on the spur of the moment. 

“What was that for?” Harry asked, bemused. They stood together, hand in hand, as they waited for the boat to start loading passengers. 

“I’m just so happy to be here with you, to start our journey.”  

Zayn and Niall stood a little apart from them, lost in their own little world. “I’m glad it was you,” he said and kissed him as their new world began.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒