Archive of Our Own

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t touch the nips. Get in. Get out.

Louis closed his eyes, breathing deeply and repeating the same mantra he had been in his head for the past four shows. He could feel his heart rate slow down and the loud roar of the fans outside simmer down to a brown noise. He could do this. He has been doing this. He opened his eyes and focused on the busy scene around him. Black T-shirts matching his own, flying past him, weaving and bobbing under the stage to avoid equipment and yelling into headsets as showtime got near. He could feel the energy buzzing around him, running through his bones and causing the goosebumps to rise on his tan arms.

“L in two.”

The static of the voice in his ear piece sounded a lot crisper than usual. It was his time to shine. He adjusted his stylist tool belt around his waist one last time before making a beeline to him. As he got closer to who he was looking for, Louis could feel his throat go dry and his entire mantra go out the window. His feet were glued, stuck, becoming one, dissolving into the ground beneath him.

Oh. My. God.

There he stood, shirtless, tight leather pants and back turned to him. Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who made little girls cry (and grown men for that matter.)
The same Harry Styles who sold out shows and who went around introducing himself to every new person who came on set. Not himself though. Oh no, Louis made sure of it. Seeing Harry for the first time in the flesh, in all of his shiny teeth-sun-kissed skin-luscious hair glory, had Louis running to the nearest tables to hide under. This wasn’t even his gig to begin with. It had been his longtime friend, Liv, who had brought him on as she couldn’t work for the month. She had been real vague as to who it was for, but Louis was never one to turn a favor or a job down. So when Louis came to work the first day and saw all the signs reading: “Harry Styles - SOLD OUT SHOW”, he felt as if Liv decided to play a cruel, cruel joke on him.

Tonight, however, felt like the cruelest of them all. Because there he was. Harry Styles. Standing there with his hands on his toned hips, torso bare, and muscles rippling under what little light they had down there, waiting for him. Little ole’ Louis Tomlinson.
Louis closed his eyes again, only a few feet away as he repeated his mantra faster than he’s ever done.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t touch the nips. Get in. Get out.

Opening his eyes for the second time was a big mistake. A huge one. A colossal one, if you will. Because Harry Styles had turned to face him and Louis’ could feel his mouth drooling and his hands clamming up and every single word he ever knew being replaced with the word ‘abs’.
Louis reached down, thanking the heavens for the dark lighting to hide his shaking hands as he grabbed the bottle of lotion. The cool liquid was a nice relief from the heat radiating all over his body. He reached his hands out as he did every other night, moving over the bumps and dips of Harry’s core. He would spend all of his days daydreaming about this, the feel of Harry’s body unintentionally getting goosebumps from Louis’ soft hands, the dark ink of a butterfly flexing under whatever illumination they had for the night, and the pre-sweat of Harry’s pre-show jitters.

Just as Louis was close to finishing his new mental painted picture (and his actual job of lotion-ing up Mr. Harry Styes), the worst happened.

Louis likes to blame it on his already long list of fate playing its mean games on him. Others would say it was the way the lead stylist had reached over to fix a piece of Harry’s hair and made him turn his body. Either way, as Louis’ hands made their way up, his pinky finger ever so lightly brushed against Harry’s nipple. And like magic, it instantly hardened from the touch.

Don’t touch the nips.

Louis involuntarily gasped, hands freezing for a millisecond. He swears everything was moving in slow motion around him. Everyone and everything except for Harry. He felt Harry’s head snap over to him, the chain he was holding in his hand to avoid anything getting on it, fell down to the middle of his chest. It glittered amongst his soft chest hair and Louis was certain he was seeing the light. This had to be the end. Louis instinctively looked up and suddenly, it were as if the whole room were lit by the sun. The greenest and most shiniest eyes stared directly back at him. Louis had never seen this color before. Not in the trees deep in the forest when sunshine filtered through just so and made the leaves look as if they sparkled. Not in the murky lake that he grew up near that would glitter on hot summer days. And not even in the emerald ring that his grandmother left behind with the promise of giving it to his future husband and their grandchildren to come.

Don’t make eye contact.

“I-uh-oops.” Louis heard. He thinks it came from his lips but he wasn’t sure with the way his face was burning and threatening to melt off. He knew this couldn’t get any worse until Harry did it. His beautiful pink lips curled up and his sharp teeth were on full display and he was smiling at him. Harry Styles. THE Harry Styles, was stood there, smiling at HIM.
“Might be best if you took me to dinner first.” Harry said, his voice low and deep and meant just for Louis. Before Louis could register anything, he was being pushed back and a jacket was being shoved over Harry’s arms. He watched as Harry hopped from one foot to another and then step on to the platform, turning and looking out into room. Louis could feel the slight confusion on his face, having watched Harry’s pre-show ritual time and time again. What was he looking for? Who was he looking for? Louis looked to both sides before looking back at Harry and locking eyes with him once more. Harry smirked, winking at Louis just before looking up as the stage moved. Suddenly, Louis forgot how to breathe.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

•

Usually, Louis would stay to watch Harry’s show. Usually, he would stand in the wings, completely invisible to everyone around him as all eyes followed the star that seemed to have fallen out of the sky. Tonight wouldn’t have been any different. Shouldn’t have been any different. But then it happened. Harry turned his head during a quick water break, his eyes scanning the crew around him until they landed on him. Louis’ head swiveled, wondering if he was still that lightheaded and delusional from the smell of Harry’s lotioned body. When he looked back, Harry’s piercing eyes were still there, still staring directly at him. There was the faintest hint of a hidden smirk, too quick for anyone to catch it, before Harry was bouncing back towards the main stage.
Louis was both mesmerized and, quite frankly, a little sick to his stomach. Harry acknowledging his existence wasn’t anything he asked the universe for and he wanted it to take it back. But when Harry looked at him again, Louis had to press his hand to his chest to stop himself from going into cardiac arrest and pinch his arm to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He knew Harry’s mid-show run off was coming up, and the thought of Harry running by him this time around, after what he’d done? It was too much for Louis to handle. Louis scurried off, grabbing his kit and heading for his car. The sound of his key chains jangling from shaking hands covered Louis' whispered words as he prayed that Harry would forget all about him tomorrow.

Harry did not, could not, and would not forget him. The moment they looked at each other, Harry knew he would never forget those rounded blue eyes that made him feel like he was floating in the middle of the ocean. Or the ruddy rose color that painted over his cheeks as soon as he started stuttering. The moment itself was shorter than he was letting himself imagine but boy, did it feel like the whole world had stopped for just the two of them. Harry didn’t even know his name, and if Harry was good at anything, it was learning everyone around him names. When he went on stage that night, he briefly looked around, wondering if the man would be there watching on. Almost hoped he would. And when he spotted him, staring at him like Harry himself painted the stars in the sky, it made his belly do a little flip.

The man was gone before Harry had a chance to speak to him again.

Harry was determined to get his name. He racked his brain over and over again on how he passed up the very guy rubbing his hands all over his body every night. When he walked in to the venue that night, he was on high alert. Every brunette man smaller than him (which it seemed like a lot more than he realized), was stopped and greeted as if it were normal to stoop down to their faces and look into their eyes. It was like Prince Charming trying to find the perfect fit for a shoe except Harry was chasing the feeling he got when their eyes met. While Harry was sitting in his chair for hair styling, it took everything in him not to ask his hair dresser if she knew of the man. He bit the inside of his cheek and fidgeted in his chair, biting back the question on his tongue.
Do you know who the beautiful, blue eyed fairy boy whose only job is to feel him up every night? Have you seen this man before?
Harry all but ran to stand in place and act nonchalantly about waiting to get lotioned down by the mystery man, the one that he wasn’t ready to admit he now had a mini crush on. He rocked back on his heels, fingers playing with a loose thread on his jacket. He could hear someone calling out for “L” on their headset and just as if he were a metal and ‘L’ was the strongest magnet on earth, his attention was pulled directly on him. The mystery man looked as if he were giving himself a pep talk, eyed closed, hands shaking off as if they were wet and chest moving slowly with each deep breath. He started heading towards Harry, head bowed down, his body moving and swaying around the bustling scene naturally. Harry couldn’t see much, but he did see a low cut neckline and a peek of a tattoo sticking out from under. Harry wanted more. Wanted to see more. To touch more.

C’mon. Play it cool, H.

Before the man had a chance to even open the bottle and start with what he was there to do, Harry spoke out.
“What’s your name?”
The man froze, lifting his long eyelashes up and staring at him in the same moon eyed way he’d done the night before. “I-uhm." He hesitated, feet shuffling below them as if preparing to run. "It’s Louis.” He managed to get out, voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it. Harry pulled out his most dazzling smile and held out his hand for Louis. “I’m Harry, it’s nice to officially meet you Louis.”
Louis looked down at Harry’s hand, almost as if he were examining it before reaching out to take it. Harry was surprised at how small and dainty Louis’ hand look compared to his and wondered how Louis was doing his job so quickly and efficiently each night.

Must be good with his hands… Geez H, pull yourself together.

Louis opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a lead yelling out how many minutes until show time. Only two.
Two minutes to get Louis to agree to go on a date with him. Harry could do this. Had done this. In more chaotic ways and in less time.

“Not to be forward-“ Harry spoke loudly and more quickly than usual, body tense under the soft hands rubbing over his collar. “But if you’re free tomorrow night-“
The hands halted, fingers only inches from where he’d accidentally rubbed Harry’s nipple last night. Harry’s body shivered slightly from the memory before he felt Louis completely skip his pecs and move lower and faster as if he couldn’t get away any quicker. Being this hyper aware of a good looking man touching dangerously close to the button on his pants might not have been the best idea.
He noticed the tips of Louis' ears turn a crimson red as he waited for Harry to finish what he was trying to say but the moment never came. Louis was pushed out from where he stood and Harry was being guided to a platform. In the whirlwind of movement, Harry strained his neck, turning around to find Louis but he was long gone. He pressed his lips together only feeling more determined than before to get Louis to go out with him.

When he didn’t see Louis in the wings like before, he felt a slight disappointment. The loss of Louis’ presence affected him more than he thought it would. Did he scare him off? Was he taken? Was he straight? He shook the feeling off quickly, skipping down his catwalk, dancing around and looking out to his fans who would always desire him. He needed the ego boost right now.
His eyes scanned the crowd, landing on a familiar, small framed man standing right near the sound booth. His tattooed arms were crossed, his head was tilted dreamily and he was staring right at him.
Louis.
The disappointment quickly turned into excitement as Harry hit his cue and body rolled to his favorite line. “..feeling good in my skin..”
He couldn’t tell it if we’re the giddy feeling bubbling inside him, making him hallucinate or if he saw Louis bite his lip watching him.

Louis was going to be his even if it were the last thing he ever did.

“This is stupid.”
Louis’ hands gripped at the sink, body leaned over and face so close to the mirror that he could see his breath fogging up the glass. “I should wash it out.” His hands gripped tighter to the white porcelain to stop himself from messing up what Helen had done to his hair. It was pushed up and with an entire can of hair spray and the same fingers she used in Harry’s hair every night, had created the most perfect quiff in history of all quiffs. He took a step back and stared at the stranger in the mirror. His all black attire stood out from the contrast of the bright white restroom and bold white lettering saying to treat people with kindness.
This was very stupid.

Helen had dragged him to her chair when he walked in with a knowing smirk on her face. Louis watched her in the mirror as she paced back and forth, her long grey hair pinned up and her black skirt flitting behind her every step. She suddenly stopped, leaning down over Louis' shoulder. Her eyes studied Louis’ fluffy-just rolled out of bed-messy hair (it took more effort than it looked, he promises), her finger tapping on her chin as she thought.
“Wanna tell me why Harry was asking about you today?” She hummed, her eyes lighting up with some mysterious answer before spinning Louis around. His body shuddered slightly from her question and a familiar heat rushed to his cheeks. She spoke before Louis could get his voice to work again. “Couldn’t figure out why he was acting all fidgety for the last few days and then BAM!" Her hands clapped together, the bare walls in her tiny room causing the sound to be much louder. Louis could feel himself jump in his chair, but all he could focus on was Harry's name in her mouth. "Nearly burst like a bubble to ask if i knew of you. Practically begged for your whole life story.” She giggled, carefully brushing at Louis’ hair and grabbing products from left and right. Louis’ mouth went dry. His eyes searched all over in hopes for something to drink but nothing was in view and Helen didn’t even seem close to finishing his hair.
“And what did you say?” Louis croaked out, not knowing if the bead of water forming on his head was his own sweat or whatever she was putting in up there. She flipped him back around to face the mirror and Louis’ hand flew to his mouth. He’d never seen his hair look so nice before. He looked, dare he say, handsome? He wasn’t sure if he were allowed to think that. No. He looked too posh. And now he was certain that he looked stupid. Surely he’d look as if he were trying to hard.
His eyes flew up to Helen’s in the mirror as she raised a single eyebrow and shrugged. “All I said in return was that you were single.”

•

Louis walked out of the restroom, hair still in tact and certain that Harry was done with his routine greetings so that Louis could come out of hiding. He'd calculated Harry's schedule to a T, to make absolutely, positively, sure that he wouldn't run into him again. He was readjusting his tool belt, not paying attention to where he was walking in the seemingly empty hallway when he walked straight into what felt like a wall. A very warm, sweet smelling, toned wall. Large hands instinctively flew up to steady him, settling on his biceps. Louis blinked quickly, readying himself to apologize when the world froze around him again.
It HAD to stop doing that.
“You know, if this is your way of asking me on that dinner, I’m free tomorrow night.” Harry said with a smirk. Louis never noticed just how tall Harry was until they were pressed this close and his head was tilted back and- oh my god. He was still pressed against him. He was still pressed against Harry Styles.
The Harry Styles that could quite literally snag anyone he wanted to in the world. The same Harry Styles that was seemingly dating a new supermodel every week.

Yeah but he asked about you today.

Louis shook his head to clear his thoughts and pushed off of Harry’s chest to take a step back. “Uh- sorry lad, didn’t actually see you there.” He stuttered, fully taking in Harry in front of him. For fucks sakes, Harry was bare save for the striped towel around his waist and his chain hanging from his neck. Louis could feel his feet starting to drag him away. Green eyes watched on with an amused look to his face. Harry’s legs seemed to have been in sync with his own, taking a step forward for every backwards step Louis took. “I was actually meaning to finish asking you-" Harry started, his deep voice vibrating off the empty hallway walls. "-since I couldn’t find you after the show..”
Oh no.
Louis thought he had made that up. Or had dreamed it. At one point he had convinced himself into believing someone had accidentally pressed their headset button and was asking their crush to dinner. It had to be. Because there was no way that Harry Styles was asking him if he were free to go out with him. Or maybe he was just going to ask Louis to pick up his dry cleaning. Yeah, they seemed more likely.

Ok but he asked about you today.

Before he could open those plush pink lips again, Louis pressed his hand to his ear and acted as if he were listening in to an imaginary voice in his headset. “Oh! Actually…" he pointed to the black plastic piece in his ear, face in what he hoped looked like an apologetic gaze. "...looks like they’re calling for me.” He said, voice much higher than usual. He cursed the genetics in his family for causing his voice to raise when he lied. He began moving faster away from Harry, body pivoting around. “I guess I’ll see you in there.” He called over his shoulder, finding the door to the stairs and practically throwing himself down them. He was an idiot and Harry probably didn’t even notice his stupid, stupid hair. He flung himself into a nearby chair and closed his eyes to slow his breathing down.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

He had a good five minutes before he had to see Harry again. Maybe if he timed it perfectly, he could go up to him with so little time that Harry didn’t even have a spare second to say anything to him.

Don’t make eye contact. Don’t touch the nips AGAIN. Get in. Get out.

Louis opened his eyes and almost screamed. Because there before him, only a few inches from his face, was Harry. Eyes serious, a single strand of chocolate brown hair flopped over on his forehead and both hands on the arms of Louis’ chair to keep him from bolting.
“Go on a date with me.” He blurted, the sweet smell of vanilla and honey and mint toothpaste wafting out after the words. “Tomorrow. I can have you picked up at 7.”
Louis could feel his soul physically leaving his body. Not only from the jump scare but from the terrifying proposal Harry was giving him. He was certain that if anyone were looking on, they would have thought Harry told Louis he’d just run over his dog. Louis opened his mouth, yet couldn’t form the words. The hopefulness sparkling in Harry’s eyes were enough to elicit a quiet “ok” following a weak head nod. The smile in return was enough to have a field of thousand sunflowers thriving.

“Has anyone seen H??? He’s not in position.”

Louis signaled to his ear again, eyes never leaving the beautiful look that he’d put on Harry’s face. He did that. Louis Tomlinson from small Doncaster. He wish he could call his mom and tell her the news. “Mum, i made Harry Styles smile. Can you believe that?”

“They’re looking for you.” Louis spoke up, just as another voice came through his ear.

“L in one. Someone PLEASE find H.”

“And me.” He said, just as Harry stood. He felt a little shy now, staring at his van clad feet and biting back the smile threatening to spread across his face. Harry had asked him out. All because he accidentally touched his nipple. Maybe he should touch it some more.
He looked up when he noticed Harry’s sneakers hadn’t started moving, eyes following the rise of Harry's chest as he took a deep breath in. Almost as if someone had unveiled a beautiful new painting and he couldn’t believe his eyes. At that, Louis blushed furiously, the smile he fought so hard against splitting his face in half. Harry let out a breathy “wooo, ok” and clapped his hands. “Guess i have to literally get this show on the road.” He laughed, walking side by side with Louis as they took off to his usual spot. Harry had since changed into a shiny pair of pants and one of his go to one piece shirts so all Louis had to do was rub his arms down. The entire time he did so, Harry stared at him with a soft smile on his face and the entire time Louis had a pink blush that was now permanently tattooed on his cheeks. Just as Louis finished, Harry winked at him one more time.
“Also nice hair. Should wear it like that for tomorrow.”

Harry had never been this nervous before.

Not even when he performed at the battle of the bands with White Eskimo. Not even when he auditioned for x-factor (and lost). Not even when he did his first ever live showing of his first hit single.
Boy, was Harry nervous. He checked his phone, mentally noting that Louis would be there any minute now. He would pull up (in the car he had sent for him, he knows, he knows, too flashy for a first date really but he couldn’t fathom Louis driving on his own and honestly he was too nervous to pick him up himself, couldn’t have that on the road), he would get out and look even more stunning than Harry was sure he could imagine and they would go in and have a grand ole time. They had to have. Or else the psychic he called on the phone was a liar and Louis wasn’t meant to be his life partner and he wasted about twenty quid and thirty minutes of his life.

He saw the black Range Rover pull up and Harry stepped out just in time to grab the door for Louis, opening it and nearly buckling to his knees at the sight of Louis. To an untrained eye, Louis was simply wearing a T-shirt and jeans. But what Harry saw were defined collarbones, golden chest hairs, dark cursive tattoos showing gloriously underneath the dip of his shirt. And the jeans. The jeans were the star of the show. All tight and ripped in all the right places, perfectly hugging his hips and legs and his ass. The ass that Harry was almost positive he could write a whole album for. And then Louis did something so obscene. Almost r-rated, enough so that Harry wanted to bite down on his knuckles to hide a scream. Louis had grabbed a hold of the car door to steady himself down and caused his shirt to lift to reveal the softest and most bite-able torso he’d ever seen. He could almost imagine the way it would look if he were on top, soft yet lean, his curvy waist moving in circles and-

Slow your roll, H. You’ll be hard all night if you keep thinking about it.

Harry couldn’t help wanking last night after the show to the thought of rosy cheeks and sharp teeth smiling shyly against red lips and god, did Harry wonder what it would feel like to have his scruff scrape against the inside of his own thighs. But this, Louis looking up at him with thick lashes and hair piled up on his head like he’d requested, just for him? Well, it was enough to make him combust on the spot. (What can he say? It’s been a bit lonely on tour.)

Louis cleared his throat a little, breaking Harry out of his trance and stepping past him to read the sign above the building they stood in front of. The neon sign shone across Louis' face, casting a mix of green and pink across his high cheekbones.
“The Great Escape.” Louis read out loud, head tilted inquisitively. “Have you brought me to an escape room?” He asked, turning his head over his shoulder with a gleeful look on his face. Harry nodded, taking the lead and beckoning Louis to follow him.
“I have. It’s the best way to get to know someone.” Harry said, very sure of himself. “I’ve got to see if you have survival skills and all that.”

Louis giggled, hand flying to his mouth to stifle the laugh. “Guess we’ll see if I hold up to your standards.” He smirked as they walked up to the desk in the empty lobby room. Harry had pre-booked them a murder mystery room, standing arm to arm with Louis as he tried to listen to the host give them their room story. All he could really think about was the way it felt to be this close in an unfamiliar setting with Louis and how close their fingers were to touching. They weren't Harry the pop star and Louis the stylist, they were Harry and Louis, out on a date at an escape room. Harry couldn't help but think that if he twitched his pinky just right, he was sure they could link them together.
Once they were in the room, Harry dove right in and held up their first clue, a mischievous look in his eye. “How about we up the ante? Whoever finds a clue first, the other has to tell a random fact about themselves.” Louis’s eyes crinkled up as he rolled up his sleeve and nodded, determination written all over his beautiful face. “Game on.” He said, biting down his lip and taking off around the room as soon as the timer in the room sounded off.
They went back and forth for the next twenty minutes, hands touching softly when they would come to the same conclusion (Louis' first fact was that his favorite ice cream was mint chip, Harry admitted to working in a bakery and giving out free cookies to cute boys). They bumped into each other more times than Harry could count, causing giggling fits when they would jump or yelp in surprise. Louis’ next fact was that he were the oldest of seven in total and Harry’s was that his only sister was his best friend.
Louis read off the next riddle out loud, his silky voice echoing off the wall. Harry watched Louis, hands on his hips and breathing coming down from all the running around and laughs. He noted that when Louis was thinking, using his brain to put together a puzzle, his eyebrows furrowed in, he chewed on his lips and his nose scrunched up. Perhaps, that was all Harry needed to know about Louis' 'survival skills' to know Louis would be the one he wanted by his side during an apocalypse. Louis' head snapped up when he had come to his conclusion, searching until his eyes landed on something. His arm stretched out and his finger pointed to a desk the same distance from where each stood.
“I think the last thing we need is under the desk.” He said, turning slowly and blinking at Harry.
Harry and Louis stared at each other, frozen for what felt like eternity before both took off in a competitive run be the final winner. Their bodies collided as they both dived for the item, causing the two boys to tumble and land side by side, facing each other. Louis was already laughing hysterically before he hit the ground and Harry’s eyes bulged from his head before bursting into laughter himself, body rolling and holding on to his side from the pain of laughing too hard.

He doesn’t know who moved or when it happened. He doesn’t remember hearing the giggling die down when they both opened their eyes. But it happened. Their noses were inches apart, soft blue eyes met dark green ones and breathing quieted down. Harry couldn’t help but notice that Louis’ lips were shiny and bitten from the concentration throughout the game. Harry could add to it. Could make them swollen too. It would really, really be quiet nice.

And so he did.

His hand reached out to pull Louis’ face to his own, their lips melding together as if they were laser cut puzzles meant to be pieced with one another. The free feeling Harry felt when Louis looked into his eyes for the first time came back, only this time he could feel it through his whole body, like they weren’t laying on a concrete floor in the middle of an escape room game but instead, floating on a soft cloud somewhere in the sky. Soft and gentle turned quickly into tongues and teeth and all Harry could hear was the beautiful sounds of their heavy breathing intertwining.

That was, until the timer buzzer went off. Damn the buzzers. Harry wondered if there were enough money he could throw at someone to have it smashed to smithereens. Louis had sat up suddenly from it, cheeks rouged and lips now swollen (Harry felt very triumphant from it). His face fell back into its shy and timid self, trembling fingers moving to touch where Harry was just at.

“Looks like we lost.” Louis said breathlessly.

Harry sat up on his elbow, propping his head in his hand. “I dunno, kinda felt like I’ve won.” And at that, Louis rolled his eyes so hard and his face lit up red like a prize winning tomato. “Left out the fact that you’re a big ball of cheese too, i see.” He teased, standing up and reaching his hands out to help Harry up. Their fingers slid together smoothly and Louis tried to hide his ever growing smile into his shoulder when Harry didn’t let go.

Harry wouldn’t let go of Louis’ hand for the rest of their night. Not when they took their loser photos (Harry chose a “His fault” sign and Louis proudly held up a “I’m with stupid” poster pointing at Harry). Not when Louis agreed to go get ice cream. And especially not when they kissed again, mouths cold and tongues sweet (Louis got mint choc chip, Harry got vanilla with sprinkles).

•

Harry was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

When he walked into the venue a few days later, he’d had the bright idea to spray his lucky cologne and the bottle broke after he dropped it. When he went to slide on his shoes for tonight, the laces were tied just a bit too tight and he knew his feet would ache. Then, when he went to go get dressed, the zipper broke on the pants he’d chosen for the show.

Harry thinks he’ll move to Antarctica.

When Harry sat in Helen’s chair, her hand slipped and just a spritz of hairspray got in Harry’s mouth. On his way to his spot to meet Louis, he tripped and embarrassingly knocked over one of his crew. And when he turned around, head held up high, ready to meet pretty blue eyes, he could feel his chest deflating when he was suddenly met with a stranger.

Harry was definitely having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

The mousy brunette girl that stood before him immediately went to work, hands not quite as soft as Louis’, hair not quite as shiny, smell not quite as sweet. When Harry had kissed Louis’ goodnight, he had been too caught up in the moment to ask for Louis’ number. And as he waved goodbye to Louis’ car that night, he’d cursed himself for remembering too late. After hours of trying to find his social medias without any luck, and too flustered to ask someone from his team to get it, he’d resorted to asking for it today when they saw each other. He did not expect for Louis to not be there. Harry cleared his throat, noting that the girl wasn’t a stranger but Liv, who’d been doing this well before Louis. “Liv, uh-“ he started, noticing the girl jump from rare encounter of socialization. Harry realized that maybe this was the first time he’d actually addressed her other than his usual greetings. Her hands stopped on his side as she stared up at him in bewilderment. “-do you know where Louis is?” He finished, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. The look on her face quickly morphed into amusement, hands moving as quickly as they had stopped. Something told Harry that she knew about them.
“Oi, am I no longer good enough for the job?” She teased, finishing and wiping her hands on a towel hanging from her belt. She didn't give Harry any time to react or respond before answering his question. “They had him on hair duty for Sarah today.” She yelled over the roar of the outside crowd, smirk evident on her face before she walked off. Harry let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

Harry looked out into the crowd once he was on stage. His eyes flitted around towards Louis’ usual spots during his shows: next to the sound booth, off to the sides of the stage, and finally near the entrances of the floor. When those didn’t turn up a familiar face, he looked towards the crowds. He quickly searched the usual seated areas for friends and family and finally he locked eyes with him. Louis, his beautiful, beautiful boy. Louis’ looked mere seconds away from melting into the chair beneath him, face soft and eyes gooey. His hair was pushed back, (and god, did his hair look sexy pushed back) and his black tee was rolled up on his arms and suddenly, Harry was having a wonderful, marvelous, all good, very great day.

“L in ten.”

Louis heard the familiar term static over his headset. He sighed, shoving a hair tool in his belt as he watched Liv speed past him, a tiny wave and a quick shout over her shoulder. “I’m giving him your number.” She said two thumbs up flying over her head, just as Louis could feel his heart drop to his stomach.
Louis hadn’t seen Harry other than the occasional flirt from stage to crowd since their date. He’d made the mistake of not getting the most basic necessity of the whole getting-to-know-someone-you-were-dating (god, were they considered dating?)
How did one go on about getting the Harry Styles phone number without getting it from the man directly. Louis did try to DM him on Instagram but with nearly fifty million followers, Louis was certain he’d been lost somewhere in his requested messages.
So after his failed efforts, Louis moped about it to Liv.

“I should have touched his nip nop a lot sooner then, maybe it would have been me on the date.” Liv had joked after Louis spilled every detail before work, from how it happened to them waving goodbye to each other on the date. Louis shoved her shoulder, causing her to drop everything she was carrying. They both burst into giggles and snickers as Louis dropped down to help her pick it up. “You know, he asked about you today. He looked a little disappointed when I walked up and you didn’t.” She grinned, eyebrows waggling. Louis could feel his whole face burn up, the back of his hand touching his cheek to cool himself down. “Hmm, seems to be asking about me a lot to everyone around.” Louis mumbled nonchalantly. Louis was all but nonchalant on the inside. Liv stood, her dark brown hair falling in front of her face. She blew the hair up, unable to move it with her full hands. “I’ll ask for his number for you.” She said, determination clear in her voice. Louis shook his head, a little embarrassed at the lengths he was going to talk to Harry again. Surely he would have found Louis and messaged him by now, right? “No, no. He might think you’re wanting it for yourself.” Louis bantered halfheartedly. Liv smiled, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Fine, I’ll give him your number then.”

Louis rolled his eyes at his friend, sighing and walking towards his new designated spot. Don’t get him wrong, Sarah was lovely. But there were no need to check his pulse around her or chant his usual mantra. It was more like: Do her hair. Have a little chat. Get in, get out.
Louis had barely made it halfway down the hall when he heard a yell come through his earpiece.

“L in five. Someone please find Louis.”

Louis stopped in his tracks, hairs standing at the back of his neck. L? As in Louis and not Liv?? Louis could feel his heart racing as he turned around, spotting Tom, their frazzled team lead, marching towards him. “Louis! You’re needed, they switched you and Liv.” He all but shouted, his hair sticking up in all directions as if he’d been pulling at it frantically. Louis could feel himself take a few steps back, eyes blinking wide in confusion. “They switched me? Wh-What? Who’s they?” He stammered out, hands starting to feel sweaty at the unwanted scolding. Tom had moved behind Louis, hands clamped down on his shoulders. Louis could feel the stress radiation from Tom's fingertips. Tom shrugged and began directing Louis towards where Harry normally waited. “Dunno and doesn’t matter, but seems like he likes you up there.” Tom barked. Louis stumbled, legs trying to match and catch up with Tom's lanky ones as he rushed him. Louis could see the blur of black tees running around come into view soon enough and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Fuck.

BreatheInBreatheOutBreatheInBreatheout..

The familiar scent of vanilla washed over Louis and when he opened his eyes, he was standing right in front of the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen. Louis felt blinded as if someone had taken a flash picture in a very, very dark room. He pulled out the bottle of lotion that he kept on him now at all times, hands gliding around effortlessly on Harry’s body. Everything felt the same, except this time Louis had been kissed by him and everything felt different.
“Hi Lou.” Harry said, hands on his hips as he stood still for him. Louis' skin prickled at the nickname and how casually Harry used it.

Yeah, because you're dating, remember?

Louis wanted to slap himself awake.

“Can you stay? After the show I mean, not like, right here or anything.” Harry rambled off, Louis’ hand faltering on the smooth skin. “I would like to ask for your number proper, if i can.” He said, more as a statement than a question, just as Louis’ hands slid up his chest. The sudden confession made Louis’ hands falter and suddenly his finger slipped, sliding clear across Harry’s nipple. AGAIN. This was surely a nightmare Louis needed to be woken up from.
Harry’s reaction, however, was different this time. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes fluttering for just a millisecond. Being this close, Louis looked up in both horror and curiosity as he watched Harry’s lush lips part ever so slightly. “You’ve already got my attention, Lou. I’ll happily accept the dinner date.” He breathed out, goosebumps chilling Harry’s arms. Louis let out a surprised chuckle, finishing up and taking a step back as he the stylist team swooped in for last minute adjustments. So it wasn't a dream. Harry was waiting for a response and Louis was wide awake. Harry kept his eyes trained on Louis and Louis did the same.
“I’ll wait.” Louis mouthed at the staring boy. The dazzling smile reappeared, stars mimicking the shape of Harry’s teeth dancing behind Louis’ lids with every blink.

•

“Harry! Harry! Harry!” The chant of the crowd rang out as they waited impatiently for the pop star to make his appearance. Louis had stepped up to the side, leaning against a near by box as his eyes adjusted to the darkening room. The crowd erupted in cheers and Louis could feel the energy shift around him, electricity coursing through his body. He got it. He understood why so many people came out to see him. He felt the same energy when Harry would even so much as look at him. When Harry came out, the atmosphere exploded by tenfold. Louis got it. Because that’s how he felt when Harry kissed him each time. He watched Harry bounce around on stage, body and feet moving around like a well rehearsed dance.
Harry’s torso twisted beautifully and Louis couldn’t stop staring at the outfit Harry picked for tonight. He could feel his mouth watering when the stylist walked over and shimmied a cropped, blue fringed vest over Harry’s tan arms.

Oh my god.

The way the sliver of his back peeked out of the shiny material had Louis wondering what it’d be like to drink sweet, sweet wine out of the deep crevices. The way he would turn or bend or shake would cause his abs to flutter and all Louis could think about was how that would look on top of him, under him, behind him.

Louis couldn’t help the abrupt turn in his thoughts. Not after their second date. Not after Harry had pushed him up against a car, teeth clashing and hands tugging and hips grinding. He didn’t mean for it to get as far as it did on the second date. Louis was the third date kinda guy, really. But when Harry had dropped to his knees and cougar crawled towards Louis during his rendition of ‘Pour some sugar on me’ in their cramped little karaoke room, all nerves or doubts Louis had while on their date were thrown out the window. Louis had stood suddenly, reaching for Harry’s hand to help him up. The confusion danced on Harry’s face along with the too loud, mechanical disco ball glittering across the room. Louis fixed that look by grabbing Harry’s face and kissing him with everything he had. Harry got the hint and soon they were running through the lobby, hands tangled, breathless and then Harry found their car, pushed him against it and kissed him back.

Louis’ attention turned back to the stage when he heard the beginning chords to one of his favorites. One he hadn’t heard Harry play in quite some time. ‘She’ started playing, causing the crowd to go wild and Louis’ heart to skip a beat. When Harry asked him what his favorite song of his was, he didn’t expect him to add it to his set list like that.
Harry glittered under the darker lights playing across the stage, singing and glancing as he did when he was trying to find Louis. Louis could feel his back straighten up and his arms cross against his chest when Harry spotted him, a devilish glint in his eyes. When it got to Mitch’s guitar solo, Harry did the unthinkable. He’d turned, ever so slightly so that he was facing Louis, eyes boring into him from where he stood and raised his guitar up to his mouth. His tongue flicked out, fast and long, up and down the neck of the guitar.

Louis was going to be sick.

His jaw dropped and his mouth went dry and he was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven. It had to be the only explanation. The only thing that brought him back to reality was the rushing heat heading straight for his groin. If Louis let out a whine at the sight, it had been drowned out and covered by the roar of the crowd.
Harry smirked at Louis, eyes turning victorious after what he’d done. Harry had committed the most sinful crime and yet there he was, smiling and playfully pulling the guitar over his head and mimicking playing it blindly. Louis wondered if there were any laws against this. There had to be.

Louis paced back and forth in the stark white hallway leading to Harry’s dressing room before the last song finished. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t hope for another text or call or date. He wanted Harry and he wanted him now.
Harry had run out the stage side door, chest heaving and sweaty, hair flopping around from his dancing. He’d stopped mid run when he spotted Louis, their bodies running and colliding and fusing into one. Harry pulled them apart unwillingly, eyes dark with hunger. “Dressing room.” His deep voice echoed and bounced off the walls around them. His long fingers wrapped around Louis wrist and suddenly they were sprinting, heading towards the door at the end of the hall.
The slam of the door behind them was all they needed before lips were on necks and hands were undoing buttons. Louis could feel Harry’s hands reach for his vest in between them and Louis’ stopped him, shaking his head quickly.
“Leave it.”
Harry froze, a smug smile appearing as his hands went up in the air in surrender.
Louis’ reached out, hands hesitant as he pressed against Harry’s chest. He could feel Harry’s eyes watching on, feel his breath getting heavier with anticipation. Louis slid his hands easily over Harry’s pecs, fingers purposely sliding over his nipples this time. They hardened and the gasp that slipped from Harry’s had confidence blooming in Louis’ chest.
He was making Harry Styles feel like this, moan like that, shiver in the way he was now.
Louis leaned forward, tongue flickering out to lick around each nub. Harry’s eyes shut in pleasure and Louis could hear his name come out of the pop star like a melody.
Louis quickly dropped to his knees in front of Harry, hands tugging and shoving the leather pants down to Harry’s ankles. He stared up at Harry, blue eyes darker than the bottom of the ocean and lips red and swollen. Harry eyes shot open and stared back in amazement.
“God, you look ridiculous right now.” Harry groaned out, hand grabbing the back of Louis’ hair and pulling him closer to his crotch. Louis scoffed, nosing at Harry’s hard cock through the dark colored briefs. “Me? I’m the ridiculous one?” He let out a low laugh, just as he’d shimmied Harry’s briefs down to his thighs. “After what you’d done on stage?” Louis had to remember to breathe when he saw it in the flesh.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He grabbed Harry’s cock, hand moving expertly as he watched Harry’s abs flex involuntarily.
Harry nodded his head, eyes fighting to close when all he wanted to do was watch the pretty boy on his knees for him. “Yeah, even after what I did on- fuck Lou.” He hissed, just as Louis had wrapped his mouth around him. Harry could see fireworks explode in the room around him as Louis’ head bobbed and his hand followed suit.
He stopped Louis before he finished, pulling his hair back until a soft pop came from his length falling from Louis mouth.
With a flurry of clothes being thrown and Louis’ scrambling into Harry’s lap after he’d dropped to the ground, Louis had what he wanted. His hips moved up and down in sync with every delicious sound coming out of Harry’s mouth. Louis didn’t know why Harry didn’t make an entire album based on his moans alone. Louis would buy every copy. His knees dug into the rough carpet beneath them and his own delicate fingers clawed at Harry’s back to steady himself as he moved.
Harry had started rocking his hips with Louis’, their lips pressed together hotly as they each muttered obscenities to each other.
Louis could feel his the pressure building up in his body, head rolling back before being rocked with the most mind blowing orgasm he’d ever experienced. Ecstasy was the understatement of the year.

•

Louis has laid in worse spots. The floor of Harry’s dressing room wasn’t one of them. He could feel the coarse rug under his fingers, the same rug that left his knees raw and red. The light overhead shown dim on the duo, causing their post sex haze to almost glow around them.  He could hear the soft pants of Harry catching his breath next to him. From his peripheral, he could see Harry had one knee bent up and arms above his head in a stretch. A chuckle threatened to come out of his mouth from how giddy he was at the mere thought that he was laying here, next to the Harry styles, naked and his.

Louis turned his head to stare at the exquisite man only to be met with a lazy smile and glossed over eyes.

“What are you doing after this?” Harry asked, breaking the comfortable silence,  his long fingers trailing over his own chest.
Louis raised an eyebrow, an incredulous look in his eyes. “Kicking me out so soon?” He half joked.
Harry giggled, shaking his head. “No, what are you doing after this?” He waved his arm around the room, signifying a much bigger picture. “Tour, helping with hair, feeling me up for a living?” He teased at the end.
Louis shrugged, turning on his side and propping himself up on his hand. “Usually what I do after any gig, looking for another or a holiday spent in with my family.” He replied, eyes following Harry’s body move to sit up.

“Spend time with me.” Harry blurted out. Before Louis had time to register the proposition, Harry was speaking again, deep voice ringing in Louis’ ears. “Like, with me on my break? I’ve got a bit of a break coming up. Spend it with me.” He repeated.
Louis could feel his nose scrunch up with confusion, face perplexed as he stared up through his thick lashes.
“Spend it…” Louis paused, his brain trying to process what he could mean as if it weren't clear as a summers day.”…with you?” He asked, his voice going up an octave a the end.
“Yeah, with tour ending in Italy, i dunno,” Harry said shyly this time, hand reaching to pull at the hair curling up at the back of his neck. “Me and some of my mates were going to make it a proper holiday, yachts and sun lounging and site seeing and all that.” He looked over at Louis, reaching out to grab his hand, eyes earnest, burning bright and glittering green. “Thought maybe you could come with me? Think it’ll be really fun.”

Louis stared back, eyes round like the moon and slightly tearing up from gazing at the sun for too long. Who was he to tell the sun no?
“Yeah, i think I’d like that.”

Get in. Get out.