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It's not that Louis is a criminal, not really. He just likes to have fun, easy money, adrenaline... and somehow these interests happen to be described as crimes. Let's face it, he was never very keen to follow rules – in fact, he despised them and would laugh at their faces, if they had any. I think you get the picture.
But one thing is some vandalism and spray paint dirty walls, or even pretend to be engaged to his accomplice and sneak rings from posh jewellers. Another one is to... well, kidnap the son of one of France's diplomats.
In his defence, the bloke is actually just the stepson of the ambassador and he didn't notice the special license plate, nor Zayn – things were rushed, unplanned and an absolute mess, being quite honest. Besides, why would someone of Harry's importance drive out and about around London without a security guard, that's just plain stupidity.
-
So yeah, they decide to rob a car. Zayn's cousin in Bradford has this connection who can get you a new fresh plate and it's really chill. They'll have to keep the car in Louis' garage for a couple of months, but they'll be fine when the police stops looking for it.
They've never done this before and they don't have guns or any idea of how this will work, but Louis is somehow excited. Graffiti and small burglary wasn't doing for them, it was just useless and the high they used to get from doing something against the law wasn't enough.
It's 4PM of a Tuesday when they meet at Pimlico station. The tube is not crowded yet, but they go outside to walk, have a smoke and 'plan' the final details.
“Are you sure we are going to do this, Z?” Louis asks stopping Zayn. A girl pass by them looking peeved because they're blocking the pavement. Londoners are the worst.
“Yes” Zayn says trying and failing to sound brave. “Are you scared?” he mocks.
“No! I'm never scared, you wanker. Is just that...” Louis can't think of an excuse, so he pulls Zayn by the leather jacket and they keep walking.
“Is just that it's quite different from what we've been doing?” Zayn guesses. He fishes a cig from a pocket and lights it up.
“Yeah, don't you think?”
“Well, we stole jewels before...”
“Really? Don't tell me!”
“Fuck off!” Zayn sighs blowing smoke out of his nose frustrated. “What I mean is, we are just borrowing another thing without the owner's knowledge.”
“I swear, if we ever get caught you're going to be my lawyer” Louis says amused.
“You sarcastic shit. But let's hope we won't...” he replies smiling.
Louis stops walking again and he is having one of those pre-unlawful-activities epiphany. Zayn likes to say he looks like a crazy robot, stopping himself from rubbing his chin, then stopping again before scratching his head, then pointing at Zayn, and so on, looking very disturbed. “Ok, so... yeah. We are... definitely doing this. Is everything ok with your cousin? Did he agreed to work on the car when...”
“Yeah, he's fine.”
“Did he get the fake license plate?”
“We are fine, he knows what to do. Would you shush now?” Zayn grumbles looking around, the streets getting busy with people going home after a work day.
“It's not like someone is following us...”
“Discretion is never too much. Ok, now pick the car.”
“Can I?” Louis asks and his eyes glisten like a child on a sweetshop. “How about... we go check on Knightsbridge? There are lots of posh snobs there. They probably wouldn't even notice one of their cars is missing.”
“Louis, bad idea. Let's try something less showy and risky, it's our first time” Zayn says stepping on the cigarette butt.
“Come on, you said I could pick. Besides... what if we find a Pontiac...”
“...GTO? Or a Ford Capri?” Zayn interrupts, sounding excited for the first time. Louis knows him too well. “That would be sick as fuck, but let's face it, impossible to happen.”
“Think big, Zayn. Don't give up your dreams.”
“Shut up. […] Fine, let's go.”
-
Zayn is scared. Fucking terrified. But he is also very frustrated because how can people be so rich? It's ridiculous and unfair. “Look at that lady's fur!” he exclaims as they walk around Sloane Square, just studying the area. They still don't have a plan.
“Just pretend we are those hipster rich kids” Louis says sashaying down Sloane Street with an empty Burberry bag he found on a bin. “They walk around in ragged clothes. We are almost hipsters, right? And stop doing the face.”
“I'm not.”
“You totally are, your mouth is looking weird and you're frowning. Think about... rainbows and blowjobs” Louis jokes trying to light up the mood. “We are not going to get caught.”
“I'm ok, really it's not lik... FUCK, LOUIS!” Zayn yells stopping on the pavement gobsmacked.
“Stop shouting!” Louis whispers looking around. “Jesus, tell me about discreet...”
“Look at that!” Zayn says grabbing Louis head and turning the other way, 100 metres from where they are. “Gah!” he gasps.
“No!” Louis shouts. And then, in a crescent of disbelief and amusement: “No, NO, NOOO! HAHAHA.”
“I can't believe it!” Zayn says hugging Louis from behind by the shoulder. “Did you know? Tell me you did, Lou.”
“No, off course not. How could I know we would find a Ford Capri parked here, just waiting for us to stea... Ouch!” he cries when Zayn pinches him.
“You are talking too loud. Now, we need to think.”
“About what? Isn't it obvious? We go there and...”
“Break in? In daylight?” Zayn scorns arching his brows. He pulls Louis with him, walking up to street where they came from, just so they won't call attention. They stop in front of a boutique, pretending to have a look at the shop window.
“It's getting dark, anyway...” Louis notices looking up. Then, he seems to have an epiphany: “Wait, what if is unlocked? They leave cars unlocked on movies all the time... That would be brilliant!”
“Yeah... right.”
“We should give it a try before spending ours last brain cells.”
“Speak for yourself...”
“You are a fucking pothead, Zayn.”
“Whatever. So, what are we going...?” he is asking, but Louis suddenly just walks away, heading back to the car. “Lou? Louis! For fuck's sake!”
“Come on, we are wasting time” he says mischievously and Zayn wants to strangle him so badly. “If it's not open we just walk away and I'll pretend to search for the keys in my pocket.”
“That's a bad idea, bad, bad...”
“God, it's so beautiful...” Louis says when they get to it, standing right beside the white Ford Capri in awe. The 70's car stands out between all the BMWs and Mercedes parked on the road. It has a black hood and Louis is dreaming about driving it around in a Summer day. “Look at that... gorgeous machine. Ok, on three” he says when Zayn gives in and finally rounds the car to try the passenger door. “One, two, three!”
Click.
“Fuck!” Zayn exclaims when both the doors open easily.
“Told you” Louis brags climbing on.
“Shut u...”
“AHHHHHHH” someone shouts.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHH” Louis shouts.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” Zayn shouts.
“Hit him, hit him, hit him!” Louis is screeching.
“Heeey, who the hell are y...” the stranger tries to say. But,
BANG! he gets hit right on the head with a thick book Zayn finds on the passenger's seat.
“What...” the stranger tries again, but,
POW!
Zayn punches him on the chin, and this time the guy is knocked down. Zayn hisses clutching his knuckles, but they don't have much time.
“Fuck! FUCK FUCK FUCK!” Louis screams hitting the wheel with his fists frustrated.
“The keys, Louis!” Zayn spurts when he realizes they're on the ignition. “The fucking KEYS! Drive! NOW!”
“FUCK! FUCK!” Louis curses turning on the loud old car. “Piece of shit” Louis says manoeuvring, crashing on the BMW behind them. “Cunty fuuuuuck!” He speeds off, almost hitting a car when he changes the gear, the seat too far for him to reach the pedals. Someone honks at them and Louis can't get out of the bloody bus lane. Zayn kneels on his seat, looking back to check if they are on a GTA impromptu, but there are no police cars or sirens chasing them. He glances the bloke one more time, passed out with his mouth open, and puts one finger under the lad's nose just to be sure he's breathing.
“Who's him?” Zayn asks sitting again. He buckles the seat belt and Louis laughs before saying:
“The owner, probably. Or maybe another robber... that would be funny.”
“WATCH THE RED LIGHT!”
“We are on the run!”
“No one's following us, twat!”
“Stop shouting, I'm driving!”
“You stop shouting!”
[...]
“Z, we need to calm down.”
“Yeah, easy to say. What are we going to do with him? Where are we going...?”
“I don't know, I don't KNOW! Stop asking so many questions” Louis says as he gets the Fulham Road.
“That's why I said we should have thought this through.”
“Well, now it's too late! We fucking kidnapped this bloke. We fucked up.”
“You did.” Louis ignores him and Zayn can almost hear him thinking, maybe even see a little bit of smoke coming out of his ears. Louis bites his lower lip and drums his fingers on the dashboard.
“We are going to mine's” he announces turning around to get all the way back alongside the river.
“What? No! Stupid idea!”
“I have a garage, it's going to be fine. Or... we can drop him somewhere, what you think?”
“He saw our faces and we have a very rare car that anyone can track.” Then Zayn realizes the weight of what he said and starts to have a breakdown: “Fuck, Louis, fuck. We are so fucked, so, so fucked.”
“Excuse me” someone says, and it's the guy on the back seat, startling Louis and Zayn. The Ford Capri zigzags on the road and the stranger seems wide awake and confused. “I'm sorry, but... I have influences, if you just... let me go, it's fine. You can keep Sandy.”
There is a moment of silence, when no one talks. Zayn is looking from the stranger to Louis.
“Zayn, quick, tie and blindfold him.”
“What?” Zayn asks.
“What?” the stranger asks too.
“The fucking scarf on his head, put it on his mouth or on his eyes, I don't care. Use his shoelaces, go, GO!”
“Don't hit me...” the stranger squeals when Zayn jumps to the back seat.
“Sorry, mate” Zayn apologizes tying the bandana around the boy's eyes. “Promise I won't anymore,” he whispers in confidence, using a shoelace from his own Dr. Martens to cuff him, “but you have to be quiet.”
“I'll. Hm, just to be sure, do you know my stepfather is a French diplomat?”
“WHAT?” Louis shouts from the front.
“Fuck” Zayn says under his breath.
“Are you having a laugh?” Louis asks very much pissed.
“Uh... nope?”
“Lou, you missed the Cavendish Road on the...”
“Shut up, Zayn!” Louis calls out, pointing the boy with his head. Great, Zayn is an idiot and now the guy know their names and where they are going. Genius.
“I'm Harry. Since... well, since, I know your names now.”
“Shut up you too, Harry” Louis grunts making a roundabout. They are almost at his place. “We have a gun and we are not afraid to use it” he lies not sounding very convincing, but Harry doesn't say anything more until they get to the house Louis shares with Stan. Louis waves unsuspectingly to Mrs. Robinson while they wait the garage door to open.
“Is he home?” Zayn asks when he and Louis get out of the car.
“Probably not. Stay here with French boy and I'll check” he answers pocketing the car keys.
[…]
“It's fine” Louis says coming back two minutes later. “You think we can use this?” he asks showing a pair of fluffy handcuffs hanging from his finger.
“I'm not going to ask” Zayn says baffled.
“You better off, trust me” Louis replies smirking. “Now, put this on him and bring him to my room.”
“This sounds extremely inappropriate. And why you're the one giving the orders and I have to...”
“Jesus! It's just that I thought you two had made a connection already” Louis says watching the bloke on the back seat wiggling like a worm being fried on a pan. Zayn lights up a fag with shaky hands.
“I punched him twenty minutes ago, I don't think it's the beginning of a promising friendship” he states smiling through the yellow filter.
“Well... fine, I'll do it” Louis is saying while he opens the passenger door of the Ford Capri and pulls the front seat down. “What the fuck?!” he shouts.
“What?” Zayn asks.
“I'm... It's not...” Harry babbles looking guilty with his phone still shining on his tied up hands. He somehow managed to take off the blind and is now staring scared with big green eyes.
“Shit! What... Did you call the police?” Louis asks filled with rage. He dishevels his own hair in frustration.
“No” Harry gasps. His lower lip trembles.
“You are lying! Fucking lying!”
“I'm not, man, I swear!”
“Give me this shit” Louis demands taking off the phone. He unlocks it and goes through the recent calls, but there is none for the police. “Who did you call? Who's 'Mama T', your fucking mum?”
“Tommo!” Zayn calls from the driver's seat, but Louis didn't even notice him there.
“Yeah, but... But... It's from this morning” Harry tries to defend himself.
“What were you doing with the phone, mate? Tell me” and Louis is so infuriated that he grabs Harry by the collar of his stupid shirt.
“I was just...”
“Just what, checking the hour?” Louis grunts holding Harry dangerously close.
“I didn't call the police” Harry murmurs, and for the first time he doesn't sound scared. His voice is low and it makes the hair on Louis' arms raise, “and if you don't let me go, I'll scream.”
“Zayn,” Louis calls still holding eye contact, “pass the handcuffs.” Harry widens his eyes, but when he is about to complain Louis shoves the scarf on his mouth, gagging him so tight that he's sure it's hurting. Louis then cuffs him and pulls him out of the car. Harry stumbles but then Zayn is there by the other side holding him until they get to Louis room. Then, Louis goes back to the garage and get an old rope that they use to tie the cuffs to the headboard of his bed.
-
After half an hour Harry seems to have calmed down. He kept squirming and kicking off the sheets, pulling the rope and struggling until his wrists were sore. Zayn tried to chat with him, calm him down by saying “Mate, 's alright, chill. We're not bad people”, while Louis approach was a slap across his face, but neither of it helped. So they just... waited.
“What are we going to do? Why don't we let him go?” Zayn suggests after a moment of silence broken only by Harry heavy breathing.
The two friends are sat on the ground, looking at the hostage from across the small room. Harry is nodding, emphatically agreeing, but Louis says:
“Nah... he knows too much by now.”
“Yeah but... it's not like we are going to kill him.”
[…]
Harry starts to wiggle again.
“We are not” Zayn states.
“I know. But he's a little shit” Louis says staring fiery at Harry profile on his pillow.
“Where is your laptop? Let's google him.”
“Maybe he's a model?” Louis insinuates watching to see Harry's reaction.
“I don't think so...”
“How do you know?”
“I would know, I'm very interested in fashion and...”
“Fit male models” Louis jokes. Harry makes a strangled sound from the bed. “Yeah, Zayn is very interested in the D, Harry” he continues, getting up to watch Harry closer.
“Anyway, I think you're a model. Maybe... Gucci?” He suggests arching his eyebrows.
Harry is heavy breathing again, but he's very still. He doesn't flinch when Louis wraps a hand around his neck. Louis fusses with something on his back, getting so close to the nape that he can smell Harry's curls.
“We know you suck dicks too, Louis...” Zayn is saying but then he spots Louis and shouts: “Hey, stop undressing him! I don't wanna be accused of rape as well.”
“I'm just checking the label... Yves Saint Lauren, aha!” he smiles triumphant at Harry, and he can't tell if the bloke laughs back at him, because of the gag and all, but his eyes glimpse with something.
“So what? He's rich, this proves nothing. And I couldn't find anything, it's hard without a last name.”
Harry grunts on the bed, looking up at Louis.
“What was that?” Louis asks messing around. “I can't understand.” But then he notices how Harry's eyes are watery and how he looks weary and frustrated, so Louis takes off the gag. Harry doesn't say anything, just chews the air, opening and closing his sore mouth. His cheeks are red and Louis notice very deep and cute dimples.
“Styles” he barks out, low and raspy. “That's my last name. I'm not a model, I'm just a student...”
“Where?” Louis asks.
“Uh... Imperial College.”
“That's quite cool!”
“Lou, check out!” Zayn says coming to sit on the bed. “He was telling the truth... his mother married the French ambassador last year. He's like... a socialite or something.”
“What? I'm not” Harry protests frowning, but he's sort of smirking when he looks at Louis.
“You're friends with that radio host and Kelly Osbourne” Zayn reads on the computer.
“Do you know Ozzy?” Louis asks excited, jumping on the empty side of the bed and making the two other boys bounce on the mattress.
“Hm, yeah. Yes, I do know Mr. and Mrs. O. Kelly thrown a dinner party on her last birthday and...”
“That's sick! Who else do you know?”
“I... I don't like to brag about this stuff.”
“Oh, shut it!” Louis says playfully slapping Harry on the arm. “Come on, we don't think you're showing off, right Zayn?”
“Uhhh, yeah” Zayn replies staring at Louis suspiciously, but not saying anything more. “Listen, what if we call for some pizza?”
“Yes, I'm starving! Actually, I'll get us some tea while we wait” Louis shouts getting up and walking away. From the corridor, he screams even louder: “Z, can you ring Domino's and keep an eye on our guest?”
“Fine” Zayn yells back, “But hurry, he's about to tell about the time he met the Queen” Zayn jokes winking at Harry. For a second he forgets he is a hostage, but then he tries to sit up and... yeah, it doesn't end up well because handcuffs and stuff.
-
It turns out Harry is actually truly nice. He is very, very polite, which is even more prominent given the situation – really, why all the thank yous and sorrys when he's being held hostage? He's quite a charmer; Zayn doesn't know if he is trying to play them, but the bloke sounds genuine.
He's English and tells them that his mum, Anne, met stepfather Robin when his family – mum and sister Gemma, – where on a holiday in Côte d'Azur. They moved to London five years ago to stay closer to Robin, and Harry, liking or not, started to go to fancy places and be around upper class posh people.
He was very humble about the whole thing, they had to practically tickle or torture him to find out the most famous people he ever slept with – a Brits Got Talent former contestant, a minor royal and a musical theatre leading actor (who he wouldn't say the name).
Which led to finding out that he was gay. Well, at least that he liked men as well.
“This sounds like the beginning of a joke” Louis says “'So, two gay guys kidnap this other gay kid.'” And the three of them laugh for a good minute before the room falls on a silence of realization, because what even is this mess they are swamped in?
“Uhhh, I think we have a situation” Harry blurts sounding embarrassed, gesticulating with the one hand they freed so he could have some pizza.
“What's that?” Louis jumps in, dropping his slice of pepperoni pizza on the box.
“It's just that I had a smoothie before you... Erm, you know, before you kidnapped me. I need to go to the loo.”
“Ok, we have to think about wee logistics...” Louis says to Zayn, who's too busy scrolling down his Facebook to care.
“I was wondering if there is not even the slight possibility of you letting me go now that, hm, that you know I'm nice” Harry tries, looking at Louis with puppy eyes.
“Indeed you are” Louis says petting his head almost demeaning. “That's why we need to keep you.”
Harry sighs.
“Could you hurry? My bladder is killing me.” So Louis handcuffs himself with the other bracelet and leads the way.
He never noticed how tiny his bathroom is, but Harry seems to almost fill it all in. Louis suddenly feels self-conscious, spotting limescale growing in his tub and toothpaste stuck to the sink. He rolls his eyes when Harry washes his hands and then the guest asks for some water, so they have a stop in the kitchen.
There is a noise on the front door and then they can hear Stan keys turning inside the lock, so Louis gallops in full speed to his room dragging Harry behind him. The hostage stumbles on a rug, bumps on a corner and before Louis can close his door Harry starts to scream “Help! Here! Pleas...” But then Louis free hand is on his mouth, silencing him, while at the same time he smashes the man against the closed door, their thoraxes compressed tight against each other. Zayn is standing in the middle of the room completely lost, not distracted with the laptop anymore.
“Is that Stan or...?”
“I think so, he have the keys. STAN?” Louis calls out.
“Hey, Lou! Are you ok?” he asks from behind the door. Harry struggles under Louis weight.
“Yeah, brilliant!” Louis answers a little bit shaky, trying to restrain the guest. Zayn comes to help, but Louis is pressed against Harry's whole body, so he just awkwardly stands there.
“Oh... ok” Stan keeps going. “Cause I've heard someone shouting...”
“It was Zayn, that idiot.”
“Hey, Stan” Zayn says to the door.
“Hi, mate. Listen, I'm gonna meet with Michelle, just came for a quick shower.”
“Fine, see ya!” Louis shouts, holding Harry still and locking eyes with him the most threatening he can. Harry recoils and stops fussing. They hear footsteps walking away, a couple of doors banging and the shower turning on. It's only then that Louis let go. (Ok, maybe he does hold Harry for longer than necessary, feeling him breathing on Louis' fingers and his untamed wrist held above his head and their legs intertwined and crotches dangerously close.)
“What were you thinking?” Louis asks when they tie him up to the bed again. Harry obviously doesn't answer, because he is gagged and stuff, but Louis stares at him cross anyway.
“Lou, mind having a chat outside when Stan's gone?” Zayn interrupts.
“No, I think we really should.”
“Hey, are you ok?” Zayn asks tapping Harry on the leg, who shudders on the bed. “I mean, given the situation. Not hungry or thirsty or...” Harry shakes his head, closing his eyes in defeat.
“Good.”
-
They leave the hostage by himself and Zayn head straight to the back door, lightening a cigarette. He puffs three times before talking, and Louis just waits for him.
“So...” it's all he says.
“So?”
“What 're we gonna do, man?”
“Honestly, I don't have a clue” Louis admits sitting on top of the washing machine.
“We can drive tonight to Bradford and leave him somewhere between here and there. Maybe just outside London.”
“That sounds... cruel.”
“Lou, we have him tied up to your bed” Zayn says glancing the stupid Ford Capri, cause of all of their problems. It's just then that he notices the special diplomatic license plate.
“Yeah, but he's not freezing his arse off outside” Louis reasons. “Or lost in someplace else...”
“Can you hear yourself talking?”
“Ok. Fine. We can also... keep him here tonight and figure something out in the morning, with cool heads and shit” Louis offers shrugging.
“We're not asking for a ransom, are we?”
“God, no! That would get us in even more trouble.”
“Hm. Yeah, definitely.”
“You think they must be looking for him by now? Maybe even went to the police.”
“It's impossible to find us here, though. Innit?”
“I don't know...” Louis answers staring at his dirty Vans.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck.”
-
They decided to take turns watching Harry; one of them will sleep in Stan's room and the other try to stay awake, playing some Fifa or just minding Harry. Zayn goes to sleep first because he somehow is always wrecked – maybe beauty is tiring?
It's almost eleven and they didn't even notice the time flying. Harry doesn't look like he intends to go to sleep; he keeps staring at Louis, head propped on his own biceps. Louis plays on his phone, looking up occasionally to check on Harry. In one of this times he puts on a funny face and Harry twitches in a quiet laugh. The boy then attempts to make a mock sad face back, looking weird with the scarf on his mouth.
“Want me to take it off?” There's a nod. “You promise to behave?” Another one. “Ok... How does it feel?”
“Good. This scarf is hideous by now” he says licking his shoulder to clean up his tongue.
“You're disgusting...”
“Sorry, not much a can do with two idiots keeping me captive.”
Louis doesn't answer straight away, just watches him. Harry is so gorgeous. Well, of course he noticed that before, they even thought he was a model, but... Now, up-close, Louis can pinpoint all the details – a chest marked with tattoos, luscious hair asking to be pulled, full rosy lips (maybe just because of all the action they've been through, hopefully not). And, well, his personality is... something else. Louis thinks he wouldn't deal with bandits the way Harry is handling them, he doesn't even sound scared or angry. Just... oddly flirty and a bit frustrated.
“That's a nice story to tell to your grandkids, though” Louis says.
“I suppose...”
“Hopefully with a happy ending?” Louis implies. He jumps over Harry and seats by his side, on the place he usually sleeps.
“I didn't call the police, if that's what you're suggesting” he says all fussy, trying to get his arm out of Louis way. Louis unties his left hand with a wink, and Harry can finally sit up again. “I should've, though. My mum must be dead worried.”
“Sorry about that” Louis says nudging him, feeling guilty.
They stay quiet for a while, just staring the door on the other side of the room. The whole house is silent and a bit chilly because Louis forgot to turn on the heating.
“Why do you do this?” Harry asks.
“This what?”
“This” he gesticulates to himself tied up.
“Ah. I've never done this before.”
“I can tell” Harry mocks. “But have you... done something illegal before?” Harry is chewing on his bottom lip, probably thinking that he's asking something that he shouldn't, but Louis has a hard time to concentrate on the question.
“Yeah... I think so...”
“Why?”
“Because I'm a school drop-out with no future in sight?”
“Why is that?”
“My Geography teacher once told me 'You'll you never amount to anything'” Louis answers, and he never says this to people, doesn't even know why he's telling this to Harry, probably because soon they'll never see each other again so whatever.
“And you chose to believe him?” he asks lightly, touching Louis thigh through the sweatpants.
“I didn't chose anything” Louis answers bitter. They stay quiet for an awkward minute, Harry refraining from touching him again.
“Yeah, off course not, I'm sorry.”
“Besides...” Louis says, because he has to defend himself, right? “We never do it to people in need. We just... practice some vandalism and steal from rich snobs who wouldn't even notice something is missing.”
“Like me?” he asks in his low tone, causing some sort of sorcery shiver down Louis spine that he definitely doesn't like how it goes. Harry is half-smiling when he says: “So you're kind of like Robin Hood?”
“I suppose...” Louis answers smiling back.
“Yeah, I can definitely picture you in green tights...” he says cheeky, this time fully grinning.
“What where you doing on the back of your car?” Louis diverts, suddenly remembering how Harry was laying down almost folded in half and looking perplexed as fuck.
“I was changing.”
“For what?”
“To go out with some friends. We were... sneaking out” he confesses smiling sheepishly.
“What you mean?”
“Hm, we were hiding from our security guards.”
“So you do happen to be escorted or something?”
“Usually, yeah. But every 21st we have a day off, like, to act reckless and without supervision.”
“That sounds... sad” Louis says. “I value my freedom so much. It's liberating to know you can do anything you want, whenever you want, no matter how stupid it is. Especially because I come from a small town, and being gay, and just... different in general, was really hard.”
“I know what you mean...” Harry agrees playing with the sheet underneath them. “But we usually have a nice time... We were actually going to a gay club in East London. I've been begging them for three months and Niall had finally agreed to go to one. Liam doesn't even mind because he always brings Sophia along. So I stopped at Yves Saint Laurent to buy this sick shirt that I saw last time I was shopping, but then you showed up and... yeah.”
“Fuck, H, I'm so sorry” Louis says tapping Harry bony knee, feeling his cold flesh escaping the cut on black skinny jeans. “It is wicked... your top, I mean.”
“You think?” Harry asks straightening the black and white shirt with crazy a pattern over his chest, looking down as if is the first time he notices how nice he looks.
“Yeah” Louis answers weak, more focused on too many buttons undone and tattoos peeking from underneath the clothe and soft pale chest and faint golden hair and...
“I like your tattoos” Harry blurts, poking the only tattoo Louis has on his left arm.
“Thanks... I like yours as well” Louis admits looking from Harry's finger on his wrist to his green eyes watching him. Why does Harry keep staring at Louis like... he's about to devour him or something? It's so bloody distracting!
Louis cleans his throat before asking: “So... is that why you didn't call the police? Cause you were on the run?”
“Erm...” Harry tries, blinking a lot before composing himself. “Yeah, that's it. Our mums always say it's a silly idea, that we shouldn't... and now that this happened...”
“Hey, it's going to be ok” Louis says, even though he doesn't believe himself. But out of nowhere he has an idea and he should probably talk to Zayn before closing any deal, but whatever. It's his fault they are in this shitty situation, now he's going to fix it. So he forces Harry to sit cross-legged and, sitting the same way opposite him, Louis takes a deep breath: “Wanna make a deal?”
“Uh... it depends” Harry says arching his brows.
“Nothing like that, you pervert!” Louis laughs.
“I wasn't chatting you up!” Harry answers laughing as well.
“So...we let you go tomorrow if you promise you won't go to the popos.”
“Is that it?”
“Yeah.”
“What about Sandy?”
“Who the fuck is Sandy?” Louis asks looking at Harry as if he's gone mad.
“My car. The Ford Capri you stole, I reckon.”
“You're pushing too far.”
“What am I going to say when I get home without it?” Harry says exasperated.
“I don't know” Louis shrugs.
“Dickhead” the other murmurs.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it a deal, then?” Louis asks.
“I said you could keep her and you didn't want, now I'm not going anywhere without Sandy.”
“Don't be stupid...”
“It's a classic! Do you know how hard it is to find a 1970 Capri with the original wooden dash?”
“Quite easy for me and Zayn, to be honest. We just walked down Sloane Street and there it was... And we were just talking about how sick would it be to find one.”
“Fuck you!” Harry exclaims, and it's the first time he sounds mad. “It's other people's property... you don't... urgh.”
Louis is done with this conversation. So done. He gets up and goes to the kitchen grab a glass of water. Checking his phone to see if there's anything to distract him, he notices there is a text from Lottie: “hope u doing fine, u never called :~ mum says hi and the girls 2. 'night 'night <3”. All he can think about is Anne and Gemma and the bloody French ambassador and Harry's stupid friends, Kelly Osbourne and shit, all worried about him.
They need to figure out what to do as soon as possible. He checks the time... 01:06 PM. He's kind of sleepy, to be honest, but he's only waking Zayn at four. He munches a couple of old stale jaffa cakes while making him and Harry tea, but as he gets back to his room Harry is asleep.
When Louis covers him with the duvet, though, Harry wakes up. He looks up at Louis sleepy and yawning, but then he spots the cups Louis is holding and a smile starts to spread lazily across his face like butter melting on a toast.
“Hey, sleepyhead” Louis murmurs, passing a comforting mug of tea. “Listen, I'm sorry about...”
“No, I'm sorry” Harry says sitting up, holding the cuppa between his hands, looking soft and precious.
“Shut up, I'm the one...”
“What? No, I overstepped...”
“Nonsense.”
“Louis” Harry says emphatically.
“Harry” he says even more sharp, cocking an eyebrow. They both stare at each other for two tense seconds and break into laughs. “Can we agree that... things are fine?” Louis asks sitting by Harry's side again.
They stay silent for a couple of minutes, drinking their teas and looking at the door. Louis fiddles with his cup, shaking his legs nervously fidgeting. He can feel Harry's warm leg too close to his, almost irradiating a heat that Louis is sure he's imagining because he can't be that hot. Well, of course Harry is hot but not this literally. Also, how is he so... quirky? Like, what is that scarf on his head and that weird shirt? Not that he looks bad in it, it's probably impossible to find something that won't fit him. Anyway, his nature is also quite...
“I can hear you thinking” Harry says surprising Louis.
“What...? What am I thinking, then?” he asks defiant.
“Uh, I don't know. Maybe what you're going to do with my body?” And Louis does not, he really doesn't, no, really, he doesn't think of three hundred and six sexual puns per second. But he does takes a deep breath before asking:
“You mean when I kill you? You can go to sleep in peace, love.”
“Thanks, but I don't think I can now. And thank you for the tea.”
“Jesus, don't be so well-mannered. You're like... a Hufflepuff or something.”
“A Harry Potter reference?” Harry asks genuinely excited, sitting up straight and turning to Louis.
“Absolutely” he answers smugly, crossing is arms.
“So you think I'd be a Hufflepuff? The most lame house?”
“They're just... misinterpreted” Louis answers shrugging. “They are loyal and patient and... kind. Yeah, you're definitely a Hufflepuff. And hey,” he says grabbing Harry's arm because he can't talk without touching people, it's just what he does. “Robert Pattinson, my first celebrity crush, was a Hufflepuff.”
“And the badger is clearly the best animal, right? Plus, yellow and black is a nice colour scheme. Ok... I accept that” he says nodding and smiling too wide. Louis insides twist in a funny way. He really wants to kiss Harry. No, scratch that.
“Which house you think I'd belong to?” he asks trying to ignore something dancing in his stomach.
“Slytherin?”
“So I'm the bad guy?”
“No...”
“Woah, just because I do some... illicit activities I'm Voldemort now” he protests dramatically, falling on his back and covering his face.
“Louis, don't be silly” Harry says amused, grabbing Louis' fingers with his free hand and trying to make him stop. “You're overreacting. I think you're a Slytherin because you seem like someone who... I don't know, cares about self-preservation.”
“Hm...” he considers, half sitting against the headboard. “Ok, I'll give you that.”
Harry bends down and Louis stops breathing, but then he just fixes Louis' fringe, putting it behind his ear very casually and... Louis is very confused. When did they get this close? Also, Harry is his fucking hostage, they shouldn't flirt or whatever. He shouldn't have these thoughts about Harry, about kissing him and stuff, but Harry's not helping at all. It's almost like he's reciprocating, which would be insane. Right?
“You're clearly witty,” Harry adds, still trying to justify himself. “Like, you have that quick-fire. And you're a natural leader, you love telling Zayn what to do. What you think of the saying 'the end justifies the means'?”
“Of course it does. Don't you agree?”
“Sounds... too extremist to me.”
“Are you these people who don't believe in revenge?” Louis asks mocking.
“Uh... like, a reasonable person?” Harry teases smirking. “Yes, I am.”
“That's reassuring” Louis says smiling, nudging Harry. “At least you won't come after Zayn and I.”
“Hum, I don't know, I might make an exception. You did mess with one of the most precious things I have.”
“I didn't know it was that expensive” Louis says not even joking.
“It's not” Harry answers gently, sounding endeared by Louis' ignorance. “But I love Sandy anyway.”
“How many fancy vintage cars do you own?”
“Only one” Harry says offended. “You think I'm rich or something?”
“You obviously are not poor.”
“I don't like splurging. And I don't have money, Robin and my mum do” he says laying his empty cup on the night stand. They stay quiet for a while. Louis fusses with the duvet
“I know what you mean... I came to London as soon as I could because I didn't want to be a burden to my mum” Louis admits, but he gets up to avoid the conversation, putting the cup on the night stand and turning off the lights. He turns on the yellow bedside lamp that he uses to read sometimes and he's trying to figure out where he's going to sleep, if he should go to the freezing garage and try to find a sleep bag, when he realizes Harry is watching him. Again. He puts on a funny face as an instinctive reaction and Harry giggles, easy and dopey. He's such an idiot.
“I thing I'll tie you with the rope so you can sleep more comfortable” Louis says and it's not a question. He gets the key of the handcuffs on his pocket and Harry is eyeing him. Louis ties Harry's forearm first, and he get to feel the slightly bumpy tattoo printed on his skin. Louis' concentrated on ropes and handcuffs, trying to see on the dull light, when he looks up and catches Harry still watching him, lips slightly parted and so bloody close that Louis can count his adorable pimples. Harry doesn't move and Louis neither, and he doesn't know how much time passes until Harry blinks.
“Sorry” Harry whispers, voice too rough to match his face.
“Better now?” Louis asks ignoring whatever was that that just happened.
“Yeah” Harry says testing the rope, pulling it a little.
“Good. You mind if I lay by your side? I won't sleep, I promised Zayn I'd mind you.”
“It's your bed, Louis” Harry says squirming to get out of the way. “I'm...”
“Don't” Louis cuts harsh. “Don't say you're sorry again.”
“S... ok.” Harry smiles, sheepish and cheeky at the same time and Louis thinks how?, but decides that fuck it! and goes lay by his side.
“Now,” he says fixing the duvet over them, “where were we?”
“Talking about your life back in... where are you from?”
“Doncaster.”
“I'm from Cheshire... small village called Holmes Chapel.”
“Are you now? I thought you were a city bloke.”
“Ay-up, mate! Reet northerner meself” Harry says pulling up an accent, and Louis laughs out loud.
“How was life back there?” Louis asks.
“It was great. Everybody knew each other, obviously. I worked in a bakery...”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it was brilliant. I had my first gay kiss there” he says laughing to the ceiling. Louis shifts, laying on his side to look at Harry, who keeps going: “It was with a boy from my school, he used to go there all the time with his brother to buy croissants, but that day he went by himself.”
“Did you kiss him?”
“No, he kissed me. He was older, I think fifteen. I was thirteen.”
“How did you find it?” Louis asks biting on his thumbnail.
“It was good. Better than the first first one, definitely. I had some experience on my back.” Louis laughs against his thumb. “How was your first kiss?” Harry asks, and he is laying down on his side too, face lined up to Louis' and a mess of wavy brown hair on Louis favourite pillow.
“It was ok. I don't remember that well how it felt. I can only remember how nervous I was. You know when you feel something cold on the bottom of your tummy?” Louis asks, and Harry nods eagerly. “Yeah, like that. And the guy, Stephen, grabbed my bum, which scared me senseless.”
“Can I say I'm sorry, only this time?”
Louis laughs again.
“It's ok. I had plenty good kisses after that” and Louis catches Harry glancing down at his lips; even in the dim glow he can see his pupils moving nervously and fuck, he is gorgeous. Louis looks back at him, at his green piercing eyes, not daring to look at Harry's plummy lips.
Louis would laugh at the irony of it all, because he's feeling that cold weight on the bottom of his belly that he was talking about at this very moment and it's just stupid. And he shouldn't feed this, it's been ages since he doesn't feel this thrilled with someone's attention, he's more the practical type that makes himself very clear and cuts the bullshit. He's definitely not a teenager with a fling anymore, but Harry makes him feel exactly like that. He wants to make silly faces at Harry all the time if it means he will giggle at them. He wants to know how he tastes like and everything about his life. Fuck. Louis is so fucked.
“Good night, Harry” Louis says in a very soft whisper. Harry seems to be taken aback because he retracts and frowns, looking almost hurt. He is quiet for too long, ten awkward seconds, but then he answers in his usual smooth and sultry voice:
“Good night, Louis.” Harry rolls his back to him, but Louis keeps staring at the back of his head for quite some time. It's weird to have a warm body laying so close, but somewhat comforting and satisfying. Too much, even. Dangerous stuff. Dodgy. Harry's his hostage. They kidnapped Harry. Fuck.
Louis checks the hour on his phone. 03:12 AM. He spends maybe half-an-hour worrying, staring at the ceiling and listening to Harry breathing softly. Somewhere between a very good and logical reasoning and a harsh self-scolding he drifts off, and then Louis is in Morpheus arms too.
-
“I could have murdered you, you know?” It's the first thing Louis hears, and when he opens his eyes Harry is there hovering over him too fucking close, like a psycho.
“Harry! Fuck!”
“Rise and shine, sunshine!” he says cheery, and Louis hates him. “Sorry for waking you up, but I really need a wee again.”
“What time is it?” Louis asks.
“07:45.”
“Wait, how do you know?”
“I got your phone, you slept with it on your face” Harry tells chuckling.
“Shut up” Louis retorts, because he is not a morning person and fuck, Zayn's gonna kill him. He unties Harry and cuffs himself to him with the pink fluffly toy. Harry has to practically carry him to the bathroom and he does not, he doesn't, really, he does not spy over Harry shoulder to check on his goods. Harry waits for him to pee too and then they take turns brushing their teeth, Harry using his finger. It sounds too domestic for Louis' sake, he doesn't even want to think further, ignoring the warm bubbling feeling on his chest.
On the kitchen, Louis pours them cereal and Harry has to walk behind him like a shadow while he makes another tea. They have sort of an argument about milk or tea first, which Louis passionately wins: “Milk goes in first so you don't crack the porcelain.”
“These are cheap mugs” Harry states.
“Well, I'm sorry, Mr. I-had-tea-with-William-and-Kate, maybe next time we can serve on proper china.”
“I didn't mean...”
“I know, I know” Louis says sitting down to eat his Weetabix with his left hand, the other cuffed to Harry. “I'm messing with you, man.”
Harry looks at him as if he's wondering something, spoon hanging in the air on the way to his mouth. Louis can feel eyes burning holes on his head or something like that, but he doesn't have the guts to look up.
“Are you and Zayn together?” Harry finally asks, and his voice seems to echoes around the whole empty house. Louis looks back at him this time, dead serious, and Harry fidgets on his stool. He tries to seizure Harry's emotions before answering:
“No, never. We... We would never work together.”
Harry doesn't sigh in relief, but he looks like he could: “Well, you do kinda work together.”
“As lovers, I mean.” Louis takes a sip of his tea before joking: “You see, we are both tops.”
Harry laugh resonates through the whole house again and Louis feels dizzy because they are flirting, aren't they? They are still staring at each other with dumb smiles on their faces when Zayn walks in. For a while Louis forgot why Harry was there; it was the best morning after Louis has ever had, and they only slept together in the most chaste and literal way.
“Why didn't you wake me up?” Zayn asks shirtless, putting the kettle on.
“Because I felt asleep too” Louis says making a face at Harry, who giggles inside his cup.
“Lou...” Zayn sighs in disbelief.
“It's fine, I'm still alive.”
“Yeah, I didn't murder him” Harry jokes nudging Louis on the shoulder.
“He only stole my phone but I'm sure...”
There is a knock on the door and the three of them startle. Who is knocking at eight in the morning? They stare at each other and Louis notices that Harry looks... guilty? But Zayn is already getting up and answering the door:
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
“I'm Niall Horan and my dad is the Irish ambassador” someone says. Louis gets up because fuck!, and runs to see what's happening, but Zayn is blocking the view, the door only half-opened.
“And I'm Liam Payne, Harry... Mr. Styles' lawyer” another guy announces. At this point Harry is so tense that he seems about to combust.
“And these are Preston and Basil” the Irish one says, but Zayn doesn't have much time to process the information because POW! he gets hit by a truck, or something as heavy as that punches his face. His limp body slides through the living room but when it bumps on the couch and stops he is already passed out.
-
“Zayn!” Louis hurries, kneeling besides his unconscious partner. “Zayny Boy?” he calls slapping him lightly, almost affectionate.
“Harry!” someone says, and Harry half stands to hug a bearded guy that looks like a generic Beckham.
“Jaysus, H, how are you?” a blond bloke asks, also hugging him. Two bodyguards stand on the doorway, one of them must have hit Zayn. The second bloke, the blond Irish guy, stares at the handcuffs connecting Harry to Louis, and asks “Where are the keys?”
“Are you sure they don't have a gun, Harry?” the first one asks.
“Are you hurt?”
“We should rush, Preston can carry you...”
Louis is fuming. How dare they? They break into his house, punch his best friend and now try to take Harry away? He is so damn furious that he is glad he doesn't have a gun because things wouldn't end up well.
“Louis?” Harry asks, and he must notice how angry Louis is because his tone is cautious.
“Haz...” Bearded calls when Harry kneels next to Zayn as well, touching Louis' shoulder.
“I'm sorry” Harry practically whispers, ignoring his friend and sounding genuinely upset. “I had to, I...”
Louis fishes the handcuffs' key out of his pocket and he lets Harry go. The boy doesn't stand up though, he keeps holding up, lingering on the touch on Louis shoulder. He stares at Louis with pitiful eyes. Louis is even more mad.
“Harry, hurry up, for Christ's sake!” Irish says impatient.
“Would you shut up, you twat?!” Louis shouts standing up to pin a finger right in the middle of Irish's chest. “Don't fucking tell me or Harry what to do, who do you think you are?” A bodyguard materializes out of nowhere besides the bloke, looking threatening at Louis. Harry is still kneeling besides Zayn.
“We are his friends!” Irish replies. “Who the fuck you are?” he asks measuring Louis up from head to toe.
“Niall, you're not helping!” Bearded complains, but then Harry is calling:
“Zayn? Zayn! ZAYN!” because he's waking up, groggy and hurt.
“Zayn! Thanks fuck!” Louis says kneeling again. “You're alright mate? Tell me...”
“My jaw...” he answers rubbing his chin.
“It's ok, we'll put some ice on it.”
“Lads,” one of the bodyguards calls, “we have to go. We are exposed to a dangerous situation. Where's the car?”
Louis has an epiphany. 'Where is the car?' Of course, it's so obvious!
He hugs Zayn, half for comfort, half so he can whisper to his ear: “Think you can run?” and Zayn answers with the most discreet nod in English History. He loves Zayn.
“Can I talk to Louis first?” Harry asks, and Louis blood freezes, all over his body. What? No, this was not in his plans. “Please?” and this time Harry is asking directly to Louis, looking at him with those bloody puppy eyes. Louis pats Zayn on the back, who is now standing up, before indicating his room with his head. Harry ducks his until they get to the room.
“Spit it out” Louis growls unable to contain his anger.
“I'm really sorry I backstabbed you” Harry says standing up in the middle of the room looking out of place.
“Wow! Just... wow!” Louis is already practically shouting. “Bloody right you did. But, you know what? I get it. It's not like we are fucking mates or whatever” he rages. “We kidnapped you, we are criminals, you're a fucking citizen in good faith... Yeah, I think you don't even need my forgiveness.”
“But... I thought we had something special” he says kicking the carpet with stupid pointy boots that Louis only notices now.
“Nice way to show how special you thought it was. Especially to Zayn” Louis scorns arching his eyebrows.
“I told them you were peaceful, that punch was completely unnecessary.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Louis...” Harry says, and he closes the distance between them, standing an arm movement away from him. “I'm terribly sorry, really. At first I thought you and Zayn were going to kill me or... I don't know, sell my organs.” He chuckles and is so charming that Louis heart skips a beat. “But then you were... as nice as you could be with me. Gave me pizza and chatted with me and... you're very funny” Harry says giving one more step ahead, looking at Louis with impossible green eyes and glossy lips.
Lips that keep making compliment after compliment: “You are, like... so witty and wise. We had a nice talk last night, didn't we? At first I thought you were just a clown, but you're so much more. The way you take care of Zayn is inspiring. Even me... ” Harry is now cornering him against the very same door he was holding Harry last night. Louis didn't even realize how close they got to each other, but now Harry is just a few inches away. He grabs one of Louis hands between his and keeps going: “What I mean is, you were very kind, given the circumstances. Also,” Harry says through a small smile that he tries to bit from his mouth, “you're very fit. You kept saying I look like a model, but have you seen your face?”
“Harry...” Louis finally manages to say, but he loses all his words when Harry's eyes flicker to his again.
“What?” Harry asks, but Louis it's not even paying attention anymore. He glances Harry's mouth one more time and then leans for a kiss. At first is just a peck, but then Harry grabs Louis neck and he is smiling before his mouth is on Louis' again, opening up the way with small licks. That warm sensation Louis has been feeling since last night seems to spread from his belly to other parts, expanding as if he could burst like a bomb at any time.
Harry apparently is more put together, holding Louis head so gently that Louis can only feel a faint brush of fingertips on his scalp. He squeezes Harry's sides, using the smooth curve of his waist to bring Harry even closer, and works on Harry's bottom lips, nibbling at it and then sucking, sucking Harry all in, everything he can. Harry tongue travels around Louis mouth, and he is making small soft noises against Louis' lips. He slides a leg between Louis' thighs while Louis lets his hands crawl underneath Harry's ridiculously expensive shirt, feeling the smooth skin of Harry small back under his fingers. Harry let go of Louis mouth to suck a bruise on his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on Louis cheeks and jaw. Louis is scratching Harry's back while exposing his neck the most he can to be heavenly licked, when there is a knock right on the door they are making out on.
“Are you two ok?” Zayn asks from the other side. “The bodyguards were about to break in, but I didn't let them.”
“We are fine” Louis answers shaky, with Harry hotly breathing against his damp skin. “We're coming out.” Harry giggles of the pun, but then tightens the hold around Louis's shoulders, clinging on like a giant sloth. “Come on now, we gotta go.”
“What... what happens to us?” Harry asks against his neck.
“Well,” Louis says when Harry let him go, moving fast so he can grab his and Zayn's wallets that were sitting on top of the telly. He spots Harry's scarf on the floor and snaps it too.
“I hope you can forgive me as well.”
Then, he opens the door and runs.
-
Sandy keys are heavy on his pocket, making a loud noise as he run. He can't believe they are still there, since yesterday. Louis is pressing the button to open the garage door as soon as he's out of his room, and when he gets to the back door he only needs to jump on the car. He has to try two times to turn on the fucking old Ford. A thin trail of sweat is starting to run down the side of his face when he finally engages the reverse. The two bodyguards emerge from the back door, running to him like two bloodhounds.
Louis smiles putting an arm on the back of the passenger seat, feeling bold and alive. He drifts out of the garage backwards, screeching tyres, stepping the accelerator to the ground in a manoeuvre worthy of Hollywood. Sandy makes a huge noise on the quiet neighbourhood and adrenaline is rushing through Louis veins because he just kissed a gorgeous boy and is on the run with his best friend, life couldn't be better. He burns rubber stepping abruptly on the break, leaving tyre marks on the asphalt.
Zayn is already on the front door running in his direction when he stops the car. Louis changes gears to neutral and steps on the accelerator again just to make the engine roar and he can see Zayn smiling with his tongue behind his teeth. Harry is running on Zayn's heels. Zayn goes around, opening the door and climbing fast, but Harry's on Louis window before Zayn get to sit down.
“'You are a real life outlaw, aren't ya?'”Harry says, clearly quoting Thelma & Louise, and his smile is so wide that it could part his face in half. He is squinting at the sun and so, so beautiful in broad daylight. Louis has to follow up because the next line is just damn fitting, and, even though Harry's friends are running towards them now, he replies:
“'I may be an outlaw, darling, but you're the one stealing my heart'” trying to bring up his best Texan accent and grinning back at Harry brighter than the sun shining on his face. He performs another quick burnout because why not, and then says above the sound of tyres burning: “I should've been Louise!” Harry chuckles, his friends now by his side, and Louis engages the first and drives off with another growl of the motor before they grab a hold on him. He watches on the rearview mirror Harry getting smaller and smaller, swallowed by smoke in the middle of a street Louis is sure he'll never see again.
-
“What was that?” Zayn asks, practically shouts, half grinning and probably with a broken jaw. He's more excited than Louis ever remember seeing.
“It was a fucking amazing and unbelievable escape” Louis answers grinning back.
“You are insane, I swear!”
“Partners in crime” Louis says putting up his hand for a high-five. Zayn slaps it, smiling again that way he does. Yeah, his face is definitely weird shaped. He'll freak out when he sees it.
“And what was that with Harry?”
“What?” Louis asks looking straight ahead, over paying attention to the road. He drives west, not knowing exactly where. Zayn just looks at him condescending. “We snogged” Louis confesses unable to stop smirking.
“You're shitting me.”
“Fine... But the truth is, when you interrupted us, his tongue was...”
“Noooo! I don't wanna hear it” Zayn screeches and to prove his point he punches Louis' biceps.
“Don't act like this doesn't turn you on, we are both insanely attractive...”
“Shut up, Louis” and he oddly stay quiet while they cross Greenford. “Where are we heading?” Zayn asks suddenly noticing they are on the A 40, driving more and more off Greater London.
“Bradford, I suppose. Think is safe?”
“Dunno... Think your boy would put the police after you?”
Louis snaps a look at him, considering the question.
“He does love this car more than...”
“You?” Zayn implies maliciously, unable to stop messing with Louis.
“Shut it. We need to stop in a petrol station” Louis says checking the fuel gauge. “Sandy eats a lot of petrol.”
“Can I say how weird it is to call a car Sandy?” Zayn asks propping his feet up on the wooden dashboard.
“You think so? I find it so endearing... Extra kudos to Hazza if it's a Grease reference.”
“Hazza?”
Louis fidgets and rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. “Could you please make yourself useful and see if you're sitting on our wallets?” he asks cranky.
“Did you get them? Kudos to you,” Zayn says when he finds them. He shows them proud, one in each hand, shaking them like maracas. “First time thinking ahead.”
“If you don't stop being an annoying fuck I'm not getting you ice to put on your deformed jaw” Louis says, aiming straight at Zayn's weakness.
“Deformed?” he exclaims holding his face, hissing next when he grabs his chin too hard. “Can we please stop so I can check it out?”
“Sure, keep an eye to see if we can find a station. Anyway...” Louis adds after half a minute in silence, “I think I'll have to be the pretty one now. Think you can be the brainy?”
Zayn laughs out loud, replying: “Mate, you were never the brains. We clearly lack on this department.”
-
They don't have any trouble on the petrol station and they even pay for the fuel, which Louis thinks is nearly a holly act (they will probably have to run away without paying on the next stops, petrol is expensive as shit). Zayn buys a bag of frozen peas to put on his face and, since they are already splurging, a giant variety pack of crisps.
“Urgh, I hate prawn crisps” Louis says throwing one bag at Zayn. They are somewhere between St. Albans and Luton, and they caught the M1, so there isn't much to see besides lorries and stupid depressing fields.
“Salt and vinegar is the worst” Zayn replies against the peas.
Louis gasps dramatically: “Take it back right now!”
Zayn is about to respond when they hear Pony by Ginuwine playing loudly somewhere from the back seat. Louis looks startled at Zayn, who is mouthing the lyrics like an idiot.
“What the...?”
“Harry's phone?” Zayn suggests, because he is just that clever. He unbuckles his belt, jumps on the back seat and finds the iPhone on the ground. It stops ringing, but as soon as Zayn is back to his seat, it starts lighting up and vibrating again.
“Should I...?” he asks Louis, who shrugs but looks definitely curious. “'ello?”
“Uhh, Hi” comes Harry's voice from the mobile. “Is it weird that I'm calling my own phone?”
“Yeah, I think so” Zayn answers, mouthing “It's Harry” to Louis. Louis tries to catch the phone from him, but Zayn shouts “Don't drive and text!”
“It's not texting, dumbshit!”
“Still, I don't wanna die in a car crash!”
“Just give it to me, damn it!” the car zigzags on the road when Louis grabs Zayn wrist.
“LOUEH!” he shouts desperate. “Here!” Zayn grunts pissed, throwing it at Louis.
“Harry?” and as soon as he opens his mouth he knows he shouldn't sound that eager. “Hey” he says softer, trying to calm down his heartbeats because how stupid is that?
“Hey you” Harry says dopey. “How is it going?” he asks as if they are having a casual small talk.
“Great. Brilliant... You?”
“Yeah. I miss Sandy, though. Are you taking good care of her?”
“I sure am. But she eats too much petrol, it's just...”
“A bummer, yeah. Try to keep it over 60 mph.” There is a silence in which Louis can hear him breathing on the other side of the line and Louis shouldn't hold on the phone for his dear life, it's plain silly. “My friends say I should go to the police, but... I can't” Harry admits, and he sounds upset and tired.
Louis stays quiet because he doesn't know what to say, and that's rare. What the hell was he thinking? How is he suppose to keep the car when Harry....? And it's not even like he needs it. Of course there is Zayn, but he probably doesn't want it that bad neither.
“Thanks...” Louis spurts strangled, feeling his throat constrict.
“I... I gotta go, Louis. Have a nice life” Harry says, raspy and monotonous and it hurts. He doesn't wait for an answer and hangs up on Louis' face. Louis should probably focus on the road, with cars around him and pedals to control, but he can only concentrate on the disconnected tone piercing his ears.
He knows he fucked up. Why did he took one of Harry's dearest things, when the guy shared with him how much he loved the car? And they had such a nice night, even though Louis scared him shitless at first. Shit, Harry must have felt so relived when he saw his friends, must have thought he would get to go home safe with his car and then Louis acted impulsive one more time, just for the thrill. Not that his thing with Harry had any future, but somehow he managed to make things even worst. What a bloody idiot...
“Should we take the next turn?” Zayn asks, waking him up from his reverie. “It's alright, mate. I get it” Zayn assures squeezing Louis leg. “Pay attention to the road, though, or will kick your fat arse.”
“I don't have a fat arse!” he protests, but then he glances at Zayn, and taking down a notch adds: “Thanks, you're the best.”
-
So yeah, they decide to return the car. They sorta more or less have a so so plan. But this time things can't go wrong, they are doing things on reverse, they are doing the right thing. Yeah.
It took them one hour to go back, and on the meantime they had time to scrutinize Harry's car.
Zayn finds a Sudoku book, bobby pins, condoms, a lighter and a Moleskine on the glove compartment. Louis doesn't let Zayn read through the notebook, claiming it's just a dick move and that they had enough fun at Harry's expenses, but he does think it's lovely all the things they find because somehow he gets to know Harry a little bit more.
The scarf he managed to steal when running away is on the floor on the back, with a pile of papers from university and a couple of books. Zayn googles 'french embassy london' on his phone and they find out it's quite close to where they stole the car the first time. The traffic is crazy, though, so they take ages to get to Knightsbridge.
Louis heart is pounding on his chest, and he half knows that it's not the rush of doing something illegal or whatever, but mainly because he might see Harry again. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel whenever they stop in a traffic light, but miraculously Zayn doesn't comment on it.
“It's there” he says point at a squared building with pillars in front of it, in one of the accesses to Hyde Park, but they miss it because they are too fast, so Louis have to go all the way to Hyde Park Corner and make the roundabout.
“Fuck” Louis hisses under his breath, and Zayn glances at him mute.
It's only when they finally get there again that they talk. Louis parks across the street cold sweating.
“So, we should call Harry before abandoning the car” Zayn says holding the iPhone. “Or do you want to meet with him?”
“Sounds like a bad idea. The best we can do is leave Sandy with the keys on, call him to come get it and watch from afar to make sure no one is gonna try to steal it.”
Zayn laughs and Louis takes some time to realise the irony of it. When they calm down, Louis fishes the hideous scarf from behind and ties it in a bow on the wheel. “Ready?” he asks and Zayn is already dialling the last number, passing it to Louis before someone picks it up.
“Hello” a woman answers.
“Hm...” Louis hesitates, caught out of guard, “may I speak with Harry?”
“Wait a minute, dear. Let me see if he's home...”
Louis covers the mouthpiece to say to Zayn “It's Harry's mum” and Zayn wiggles his eyebrows to him.
“Hello?” Harry answers after a while, sounding confused.
“Harry, it's me” Louis says. “Listen, could you come outside, please? There's this lovely lady dying to see you again.”
“What?”
“Hurry up. The keys are on the ignition and someone might steal her.”
This time Harry crackles in a loud laugh and Louis was never so sure that doing the right thing sometimes can pay off.
-
On the next day Louis tries to keep going with his ordinary life. He gets up at 11AM, have some Weetabix and plays Fifa. When Zayn comes for a visit in the middle of the afternoon he brings a joint that they smoke in an odd quiet peace.
“What's wrong with you?” Zayn asks looking at Louis squint-eyed. They are on the couch side by side, the telly turned on mute on Cbeebies. “Why aren't you blabbing shit like you always do?”
“Because I'm afraid I won't be able to stop talking about Harry” he admits, more easily than he normally would.
“You can talk to me.”
“It's ok...” Louis says resting his head in Zayn's shoulder.
“When you two kissed... Did he kiss you back?” Zayn asks playing with the rings on his fingers.
“Yeah” Louis answers after some time, trying to push to the back of his mind the memory of Harry's mouth. “Yes, he did.”
“Look, I'm not just saying because you're my friend, but he seemed very... into you.”
“I don't think he was...” Louis trails off. He plays with the hem of Zayn's jacket, still sorta tripping. “We kidnapped him. We are lucky he didn't turn us in.”
“Yeah, Harry's a nice lad.”
“He is, isn't he?” Louis agrees smiling dreamy against Zayn's leather jacket.
Louis makes them mac 'n' cheese to fight the munchies and they spend the evening just chilling, watching Netflix cuddling on Louis bed. Zayn refuses, actually forbids, any romantic film, and Louis doesn't even try to argue, which is kind of disturbing but Zayn let it go because if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
-
It's Saturday and a shitty day. A drizzle falls from the sky, not heavy enough to soak you up, but sufficient to annoy. The wind makes a nasty sound under the doors. Earlier, Louis heard Stan fussing on the kitchen but he couldn't force himself out of bed. He can hear the soft hum of the washing machine and Stan singing in the shower.
Louis hugs one of his pillows convincing himself he can smell a faint unusual scent, maybe Harry's. He knows he shouldn't nurture this, shouldn't hang to this feeling, but he couldn't help thinking about Harry all the time. The things he said before they kissed, the way he touched Louis wrist telling how he liked his tattoo, that breakfast together, all the teasing and small touches, Harry's low and slow voice. But, especially, he couldn't take out of his head how Harry always seemed to comply, pliant and without resistance, when being bossed and manhandled. Fuck.
He checks the hour, 10:27AM, and texts Zayn saying he will come over. He gets there almost two hours later, after having beans on toast and taking a shower. The walk to Zayn's flat take a good half hour and Louis is lightly wet when he gets there.
“Finished the doodle?” he asks as soon as Zayn opens the door.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Yeah, yeah, let me see it” Louis mumbles taking off his coat.
“What you think?” Zayn asks after he handles the paper and Louis appreciates it for a second.
“You never let me down, Z.”
“I was thinking of getting it too” he says putting the kettle on. “On my sleeve. You know, as a memento from our theft...”
Zayn prepares three cups, and Louis doesn't say anything at first, when Zayn takes one to his room. But when he is back with a smirk and a slight blush, Louis asks:
“Who was that for?”
“Bloke I met last night” Zayn answers scratching his face bashful.
“Zayn Malik, you manwhore! I'm jealous” Louis jokes pouting, reaching for a poke that Zayn deflects. “How's your chin?”
“Almost as good as new.”
“Good. Now, would you hurry up? I want to get this tat by today.”
“Fine. Can you let Robbie out?” Zayn asks, but he doesn't really wait for an answer before locking the bathroom.
It turns out Robbie is gorgeous (of course, Zayn dates people that look like they came straight out of a magazine); a black guy, 6'5'' tall, that seems to be unable to stop smiling, flaunting pearly teeth. Louis would usually get all flustered and bubbly, throw a couple of flirty jokes and check out his bum as he left, but he simply left the guy out with a polite nod, thinking: 'Damn you, Harry Styles. I'm so fucked.'
It's not even 4PM when they order their first round in a pub just across the tattoo parlour. They chat over three or four pints, Zayn telling him that apparently it's not entirely true what they say about black guys and Louis complaining about his lack of money and perspective. They go home early and Louis spends the rest of the weekend taking care of his sensitive tattoo. It's on Tuesday, though, that his life changes.
-
The day starts pretty regular and boring. Louis somehow manages to get up relatively early and goes to the bank to check his balance. Which is laughably low. Yeah, he should probably start looking for a shitty job again. Small crimes have been resulting more in a series of pains in the arse than money. Don't trust rap music, kids.
Stan is off to work and Zayn hasn't answered his texts, so Louis is contemplating going out to skate when the bell rings. He freezes on place, still waiting for the police to come and get him anytime, whenever he's too comfortable and forgot about all his doings.
But when he spies from the window it's Harry on the doorway. Harry. Back there. Exactly a week after the whole thing. Harry right on his doorway.
“Hi, Louis” he says sheepish, half smiling. Louis has a glimpse of Sandy parked on the street, but he's too focused on how glorious Harry looks with a hat and in plaid. And, of course, he's also asking himself why the fuck he's there and what does he want.
“Uhm... Nice hat. Come on in” he says letting Harry in. Bloody hell, he smells good. “So, how's it going?”
“Quite well” he says standing awkwardly, so Louis guides him to the couch by his small back. “Better now” Harry adds flirty when they sit side by side. Louis nods uncomfortable, not a clue of what Harry's doing there.
“Should I make us tea?” he asks already standing up.
“You sound like a granny with your obsession for tea. It's adorable” Harry jokes as he follows him to the kitchen.
“Screw you” he replies smiling. They keep smiling at each other and Louis has to force himself to go get the teabags.
“You're probably wondering what I'm doing here” Harry says, and Louis can feel him staring the back of his head. “I couldn't stop thinking about you” Harry confesses. The kettle goes off and thank you, Jesus!, Louis is saved by the bell. He pours them tea and goes sit on the other stool. Harry looks at him expectantly but doesn't say anything.
“I've been think about you a lot, too” Louis admits, but Harry suddenly grabs his arm, just when Louis was about to have a sip.
“When did you get this?” he asks, eyes locked on the name Sandy clearly marked on Louis forearm.
“Saturday” Louis answers showing it off. “It's still sore.” Harry keeps holding his elbow, admiring it for some time before looking up at Louis face fiercely and pulling him in for a kiss. Louis grabs both sides of his head, smacking their mouths together hungry. “Fuck, H” he curses against Harry's lips. How come he waited so long to kiss Harry again? He is such a good kisser, with those lips and small noises. Harry parts his legs, still sat, and pulls Louis between them by the waist, taking all the breath away from Louis. He can feel Harry's hands on his small back and they are big and gentle. They kiss for a long time, that known warm feeling on Louis chest back with full force. He's so overjoyed that he could break into a song at any time, as if they where in a musical or even punch a puppy if Harry asked. Harry mouth leaves his to kiss Louis on the neck again:
“I think...” he says hoarse, sucking a love bite “... we stopped...” he lightly nibs Louis collarbone “... somewhere here.”
“Wait, Harry” Louis whines, feeling his dick already responding inside of his trousers. Harry is still licking and sucking on his neck, apparently in a trance of worshipping. “Harry” Louis calls firmly this time, and he stops immediately. “I said stop it.”
“Sorry” Harry says nuzzling on Louis neck.
“Now, we have to talk” he says petting Harry's curls.
“Why?”
“I don't know, love” Louis says sarcastic, “maybe because I kidnapped you?”
“I'm ok with that. Glad, even.” Louis laughs.
Harry keeps clinging on him, making himself smaller and somehow more lovely. He is so pretty and gorgeous and cute and handsome and endearing and perfect. Louis heart is about to burst inside his chest. Harry looks at him upwards, looking demure like one of those stereotypical Japanese girls in mangas, so he kisses Harry again. Now he takes his time to feel how Harry tastes and to let his tongue drag lazily and sensuous against his. Harry grinds on Louis groin, whimpering softly and cock already hard, poking Louis' belly.
“Harry, pet, we have to...” Louis tries, completely losing his train of thoughts when Harry thrusts against him again. “Harry!”
“Fine...” Harry says sounding really upset and adorable. Louis untangles himself from him to sit down on the other stool. “Hit me with your best shot” Harry says reaching for Louis hand and Louis gladly holds it back because he thinks he will never be able to keep himself from touching Harry.
“Best shot? You mean, like, cum in your eye?” Louis jokes, and Harry glows laughing. “But seriously, I don't wanna scare you.”
“Go big or go home” Harry shrugs as if it's just a casual propose.
“Now we're talking about dick sizes?” he jokes again, so happy that he's unable to control himself. And Harry crackling out laughing like an idiot it's probably very compensating.
“Ok, but isn't it insane? I threatened your life, stole your car, kept you captive. Why are you even talking to me? I mean... are you out of your mind? Do you fancy bad boys and I just happened to be here?”
“Are you afraid I'll leave you?” Harry asks arching a brow.
“I didn't said that, don't get cocky.”
“I'm not afraid of you” Harry says serious now. “I know you're not a bad person, I can feel it. Besides... I've been thinking of doing lots of bad things with you.”
“Like what?” Louis asks truly curious.
“Dirty stuff” he says low, but confident, and just the way Harry says it causes shivers down Louis' spine. “Some things very...experimental?” he says testing the waters and since Louis hasn't run away yet, he adds: “And unconventional?”
Louis smiles at him. Grins, like that crazy purple cat from Alice in Wonderland. “I like your big words...” he says, feeling his throat and pants tight.
“Yeah?” Harry asks, with a smirk of his own. “I know you like to dominate and I think you're a natural” he blurts out.
“...” This time Louis doesn't say a thing, just stares at him, because he never gave it a thought but... somehow it makes a lot of sense. And he doesn't know what to do with himself because how did Harry read him so well in, like, two days together? This is some true soul mate bond shit.
“And I wanked me sore imagining you bossing me around” Harry casually says, waking Louis up from his daydream.
“Have you?” he asks delighted, feeling a blush colouring his face and neck.
“Yeah.”
“That's hot.”
“You are hot,” Harry says puckering up for a peck.
“You flatter me, Haz” he murmurs, still holding Harry face close to his.
“I'm here to please” Harry whispers looking dead serious into Louis blue eyes. Louis swallows hard because fuck. But also, fuck.
-
They snog all around the house. The whole afternoon making out on the couch, on the kitchen floor and on the counter, against the wall on the corridor, on the bathroom when Louis was having a wee and Harry couldn't wait for him to come back. Louis have probably never had his ass more groped. Harry's lips are so swollen that they are not even rosy, but red like that cute bunny on Youtube that eats raspberries.
They also talk a little. Only when they need to catch their airs. Harry tells him that he managed to lead on his mum lying that he slept at Liam's. Louis tells him about his family, all the girls and his mum, and shows him photos of the new twins on his phone, which makes Harry's eyes sparkle.
Now they are cuddling on the couch, Harry crushed between Louis and the back of it, grabbing Louis with all the limbs he can.
“So...” Louis hesitates, but Harry nudges him in encouragement like a kitten. “Are you thinking of staying the night?”
“Is that an invitation?” Harry asks, apparently unable to stop smiling.
“Yes” Louis says drawing patterns on Harry's smooth side with his fingertips.
“Then yes, I am. Should I go get my bag in the car?”
Louis laughs out loud.
“Have you thought this through? And how did you know I would invite you to stay over?”
“I just hoped” Harry says hugging Louis even harder. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Fair enough” he says slapping Harry's bum. He walks Harry to the front door, like, five feet away, because they are joined like massive magnets that won't let go or something sappy like that.
He watches Harry from the door and tries to record in his memory how the night looks like. It's already pretty dark, the last light of the day is just a pale pink line on the border of the world. The street lamps are on, punctuating the road with yellow blobs of luminosity and the air smells of rain and smoke from the chimneys. A couple pass by with a baby buggy and an old man walks a dog, but none of this really matter. Not when Harry's little perk arse it's in the air, wiggling as he gets things from the back seat, and it's just... glorious, the centre of the universe.
Harry walks back with a small leather bag on his hand, smiling lazily. He stops on the doorway, pecking Louis lips before entering the house again. Louis holds his hand and takes him to his room. He still can't believe his luck, but Harry is right there in front of him, and Louis can touch him anywhere he wants. Probably.
“I, hm... I brought something” Harry says still holding his bag, looking all of sudden uneasy.
“... O-k.”
“We don't have to use it if you don't want to, I know it's going to sound weird.”
“Jesus, Harry, now I really want to know what it is” he says sitting on the bed. “Is it a sex toy?”
“Sort of” he tells, but when he opens his bag he takes off a coil of rope. Louis takes like 2.3 seconds to understand.
“Oh...”
“Is it now when you finally run away?”
“Nonsense, I'm at my own house” Louis jokes, lightening up the mood, and, as expected, Harry seems to melt like a soft gooey marshmallow. Louis gets up to hold Harry into his arms. “Go big or go home, you said?” His hand travels all the way down to Harry's crotch to grab roughly his cock. Harry chuckles, nervous and aroused.
“So... you gonna tie me?”
“Maybe, if you ask nicely” Louis says caressing Harry over the jeans, seeming almost too unabashed, given what Harry is proposing.
“Please? Please, Louis. I got all hot just buying the rope, please tie me up. Please...”
“Enough” he instructs, and to make his point he squeezes Harry's dick. “No more talking. Take off your clothes.”
Harry is static for a moment, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, but then something clicks on his brain and he's hooked. With eyes shinning wicked and thirsty he takes off his jumper as fast as he can and jumps off his skinnies in a clumsy rush.
“What will be the safe word?” Louis asks, quickly glancing Harry from head to toe. Damn, he's everything and more.
“Stockholm” Harry blurts, smiling cheeky.
Louis is sure that he thought this ahead, imagining all kinds of twisted fantasies while touching himself. So sure that he tiptoes to hold Harry by the chin, pressing his swollen lips into a painful pout, that Louis kisses briefly. They both grin back at each other like maniacs. Louis scans Harry's whole body again, now taking time to study all the tattoos, his gorgeous, beautiful, pumped-up cock, the sides of his back that form delicious love handles, never ending legs...
“Lay down” Louis orders. “On your back” he adds when looks like Harry is about to lay with his arse up. He looks at Louis confused but obeys. “Very good.”
Louis is dying to kiss Harry's sweet face, but he doesn't. Instead, he gets the rope and unwinds it all. Harry watches from the bed and his eyes are burning. Louis almost gives up all this bondage stuff and jumps on Harry's cock. Almost.
The string is white and made of cotton, but the material is still a little bit rough. Louis' dick twitches with only the perspective of the rope straining against Harry's pale skin, marking him red, and with the image of him struggling, trying to stretch it but incapable of breaking free.
Unexpectedly, Louis uses the rope as a whip to hit the mattress only a few inches from Harry's thigh, making it snap provocative. Harry startles. The sound echoes around the room and Louis fells more powerful than ever. Harry looks up at Louis, not even the slightest defiant, but with a shock of realization. It's happening, everything Harry has been dreaming about is happening. His Adam's apple visibly wobbles and his dick jerks against the thin hair trailing down his belly. Louis would already die happy if a lightning struck him at that very moment.
He folds the string in half and twists the mid section in a ring. “Ready?” he asks, and when Harry nods Louis wraps it loose around Harry's dick and balls. He sits between Harry's thighs and crowns his work with a kiss on the plummy head already glistening with precum. Harry groans hotly. Louis doesn't touch Harry's dick more than that.
“Are you alright?” he asks stroking Harry's legs, and his voice sound weird on his tongue; dark and imperative. Harry nods again, staring down at his tied up untouched cock. “I'll need you to help me here, love. Use your words,” Louis demands.
“Yes” comes the whisper, raspy and puffy.
“Good. Should I keep going?”
“Yes, please.”
“Ok, I'll need you on your side, think you can do that?”
Harry doesn't even answer, so eager to please that he is already rolling to his side, almost knocking Louis down when turning his back at him.
“Sorry, Lou.”
“It's ok, pet” Louis says, watching mesmerized the two strings coming out from between Harry's thighs. He holds the ends together and, as if they were a thong, pass them on his crack, right between Harry's bum cheeks, spreading them with the rope. Harry doesn't move, not even a tiny flinch, but Louis can tell he stopped breathing. That is by far the hottest thing that ever happened to Louis. The rope is now rubbing against Harry's hole and Louis doesn't even want to imagine how it is to have your perineum in constant friction. Louis could cum just by watching that. He caresses Harry's arse, feeling at the same time the soft warm skin and the rough string parting his cheeks.
He pulls the rope gently all the way up to Harry's shoulders, lining it with his spine and swirling it around itself to hold it together. Then he makes Harry lay down again, and he hisses when his back touches the mattress, eyes flustered and hands pulling on his own hair trying to keep his cool. Louis wants to comfort him, but also break him even more. The two ends come over each of Harry's shoulders like a pair of suspenders. Having a look at his face for the first time since they started the lashing, Louis thinks he seems worn out.
“Love?”
“Yeah” Harry says weary, gloss-eyed and with a drawn-out smile. Wow, he needs Harry so badly. Craves.
“Hanging on there?”
“Yes, Lou” he croaks.
“You're such a good boy, Haz” Louis says encouraging and proud, sitting on Harry's legs again and kissing him. Even the kiss is more lazy now, Harry dragging just the tip of his tongue across Louis mouth. Harry is not even all tied up yet, but he's already pliant and limp under Louis, tender and under control. His dick, however, is still stiff, and looks painful though not tightly restricted. His hands ghost above Louis' back uncertain but then, light as a feather, he takes off Louis' t-shirt. “I'm almost finished, ok?” Harry nods and Louis looks at him cross. “I'll have to punish you if you don't start using your words, babe.”
“Ok, Louis” Harry manages to spit out, looking back at him with big eyes. Louis kisses him again. He loves Harry so much for being good and obedient. Louis strokes both sides of his face with sharp thumbs and bites his bottom lip. It's insane but he wants Harry all to himself only so he can ruin him.
He criss-crosses the rope over Harry's chest, asking him to arch his back from the bed so he can go around Harry's waist. Louis ties it like a belt over Harry's bellybutton, knotting it twice and leaving two ends to anchor his hands. He ties each extremity to the nearest wrist, so if Harry moves, say, raises his hand, he will pull the rope all the way down from his crotch.
Louis takes a moment to appreciate all that he has done, and not only the bondage work, but also how Harry's heavy breathing and subdued, but still excited and begging for more. Louis then notices how dressed he still is, and he takes off his trousers ignoring Harry. It's a relief when his dick springs free and, as he looks up, Harry is intensely staring at him, green eyes so fiery that Louis doesn't even think he deserves all that.
“Now, you better keep still” Louis says sitting on his lap one more time, making Harry hiss and jerk up. His hands are over Harry's laurel tattoos supporting himself. “If you move you're going to end up with balls back on your arse.”
Harry laughs, not loud like usually, but spent and hoarse, even more sexy. Louis gets all tingly and warm inside. When Harry stops, he looks up at Louis, pleading:
“I want you to sit on my face.”
Louis is taken aback for a moment. He is the one on command. But then he realizes that he still can tell Harry what to do: “Tell me how much you want it.”
“So much...”
“Wanna suck me?” he asks, and only the idea of it is enough to make his dick harder.
“I want you Louis” Harry says lifting his neck in an attempt to peep at Louis' groin. “I want you any way I can have.”
“Do you still remember the safe word?” Louis asks as he crawl over Harry.
“Yes.”
“Good” he says almost demeaning, sitting on his chest. Holding on the base of his cock, he guides it into Harry's mouth and... oh my... fucking... fuck. His lips are even better there. Louis loses control for a good minute, because Harry's sucking on half of his dick, smooth sleek cheeks hollowing around him with the ideal pressure. He watches stunned his cock disappearing around red lips and then Harry is licking the head like a lollipop, eyes closed and a blissful expression. Louis wouldn't be more lucky even if he won the lotto. Harry goes back to sucking, glancing Louis through eyelashes and it's so bloody hot that Louis' knees give in, landing on the pillow besides Harry's head. He takes it all in, even when Louis' dick swoops to the back of his throat. Louis can feel the orgasm building up when he pulls back gasping. Harry grins with saliva running down his chin. Fucking tease.
Louis is practically chocking Harry, sitting on his collarbones too close to his neck and trying not to cum while taking short breaths. Harry is still smiling, looking at him upwards. Louis' cock is wet with saliva and poking under Harry's chin, and Louis thinks Harry have never looked more gorgeous. Fuck, he's going to wreck him.
When Louis catches his air back he doesn't ask anything, just hovers over Harry's face, supporting himself on the headboard and squatting down slowly. He can feel the warm breath on his crack before the tongue. Louis sits down very carefully, hands helping to spread himself and expose his hole. Harry breaths against his skin and godamnitfuckyes. At the first flick, he clenches, thigh muscles spasming, but he spreads his arse even more, offering himself to Harry. Harry flattens his tongue over the hole, giving it wet big licks and sending Louis to heaven. Louis stares at the wall right in front of him, trying to focus on it instead of how he's being rimmed by Harry and how his tongue is the best thing to ever happen to humanity. Harry tries to open him up stiffening his tongue and Louis thinks he sighs frustrated because of the hard job being restrained and with no hands, but then there is another lick over his rim and he loses any rational thought.
He looks over his shoulder and he can spy Harry still hard and his head bobbing enthusiastic underneath Louis. Fuck, Louis loves him, loves, loves how dedicated he is. Harry keeps moaning against his arse, punctuating each slurp with a whimper and Louis doesn't even dare touching his own cock or he will ruin it. He has goosebumps all over his body, and Harry keeps relentlessly licking him, pleased and eager. He pokes Louis' hole again and this time he goes over the moon and see stars. Harry tries to open him up only with his tongue again, and Louis clenches around it, wanting more, more, more. Everything.
With his own finger he circles his hole, lifting up so Harry can catch his breath again. Harry whines in complaint, struggling to lift himself up to Louis arse again. For a moment Louis is lost on the sensation of his own finger caressing his hole, slick with Harry's saliva. The first knuckle goes in and he sees all red, moaning loud when the finger enters all the way, the known burn of the invasion making him tingle. When he opens his eyes, Louis realizes he is fingering himself just above Harry's head, who is watching everything in awe, as if witnessing a miracle or something that sacred. Louis gets up to catch lubricant and condoms and sits back on the bed besides Harry, coating two fingers with lube before introducing them. At this point, Harry is exhausted and starts begging:
“Louis. Lou. Louis, please. Please fuck me, please, please...”
“I'm almost...” he hisses twisting two fingers inside himself, “... there.”
“Hurry up, please” Harry sobs, and his eyes are red rimmed and wet.
Louis stops what he is doing to kiss Harry, because his baby is crying and no, he can not let this happen. He cradles on Harry's waist and holds him by his limp head, at first giving just small pecks, then longer comforting kisses, nibbing the spent swollen lips the most gentle he can. Harry starts to react again, kissing him back lightly.
“Hang on there, love” Louis says against his lips. “We are almost done. You're gonna love it when it's over, I promise. Fuck H, I think I'm gonna wreck you.”
Harry whimpers on Louis' lips. And again when Louis is unrolling the condom at a torturous slow pace over Harry's dick.
“Wait!” he shouts, suddenly realizing.
“Your dick looks delicious” Louis says pumping it with his right hand. “I want it inside of me.”
“But...” Harry tries, but Louis squeezes him quite hard, and Harry contorts making the rope strain painfully. Harry shuts his eyes tight, trying to sublimate every pulsing sensation going through his body, especially on the balls and arse crack. Louis watches him in wonder because he is causing all that. Harry is that much of a mess because of him.
“I still call the shots” Louis says, and finally putting a stop to Harry's torture, he sits on his lap. “And you... are mine” he states lining up the throbbing cock to his hole. He holds onto Harry's biceps in one arm, guiding the thick dick inside of himself with the other hand. The head pressures his rim, and fuck, Harry's huge. He knew he was, obviously, but now, when the head is teasing and stretching his hole, now he realizes how thick and hard Harry is.
Louis shifts, trying to find a better angle, and Harry is thrusting against him, urgent. Louis moans rubbing the plump head against his hole, and, sleek with lube, he forces it inside of him one more time, breaking the pressure point and holding a breath until Harry is opening him sore. He looks down at Harry when he's halfway inside, trying to figure how he's doing. Louis can feel Harry's cock pulsating inside his arse, and he can't stop clenching around him, trying to get used to the stretch.
Holding onto Harry's hip tattoos, he controls the urging to burying him all the way, asking first: “Who do you belong to?”
Harry is in another world, probably in outer space, because his face is in ecstasy and a scrunched mess, lips sucked inside his mouth and hands grabbing the mattress for dear life.
“Harry?” he asks again, his own voice shaky.
“You, Louis” comes the grunt, throaty and raw.
Even Louis can't resist that, so he lowers himself more and more, and even when he's already feeling filled up, there's more Harry. Louis moves, riding Harry in short movements, grinding on his hips with small sobs coming out of his mouth. He is babbling obscenities, shouting even: “Yes, Harry. Fuck. Fuck me. I want your dick inside of me forever. Fuck, break me in half, yes...”
He lays down over Harry, feeling the rope against his chest as well, and he keeps fucking himself, slamming Harry inside of him the faster he can. Harry moans into his ear, puffing and huffing in frustration for being restrained. Louis moves frantic, pinning Harry into the bed and breathing hotly onto his ears too, whispering all sorts of nasty things between loud moans: “Make me sore with your fucking cock. Fuck H, you're so big... Urgh, fuck me hard, yes, yes...”
Louis' dick is constricted between them, rubbing dry against a knot and fuck, it's so hot that he loses his balance for a second. He takes the opportunity to leave a vicious bruise into Harry's neck, sucking hard enough to make sure that tomorrow it's going to be blue. Harry is so far gone that he forgets he's tied and struggles to touch Louis. He tries to reach Louis' back, and the string tenses really hard — even Louis can feel it straining next to his hole, still stuffed with Harry.
Harry grunts, gritting his teeth and his abdomen dances frenetic up and down. “Please don't stop, Lou” he implores, voice just a faint rustle.
“I'm almost there” Louis says, riding Harry again in a slow pace. “Stay with me. We are gonna...” A groan escapes his mouth, loud and obscene, and Harry wrestles underneath him, fighting the rope with his last efforts. So... damn... close.
Louis closes his eyes, sitting down again and letting the waves flowing up and down his body dictate the rhythm of his hips. Harry is a quivering mess, can't even make sounds anymore, he just emits indistinct chocked up cries. Louis can feel Harry sweaty skin under his palm and the dick filling him in and then a bit more, hitting the right spot while he fucks himself into oblivion. Harry's muscles spasms under him, impossibly tensed and shaky, and Louis suddenly realizes he is waiting. Harry is waiting for Louis command to cum. Just the thought of it is so overwhelming that Louis strokes himself, one, two times, almost on the edge.
“Now, Harry. Come to me” he orders, and fuck, Harry jolts violently underneath him, cumming uncontrolled and overwrought. Harry's dick is throbbing inside of Louis and it feels like everything is ending, the world crumbling into itself, all the galaxies colliding and the gods demystified, all secrets of the universe unravelling right in front of Louis eyes and he is also cumming, spilling himself over the tight knot on Harry's bellybutton, mouth agape and eyes rolling to the back of his head.
He collapses on top of Harry, still softly moaning. They are both quivering, breathing through their mouths and limp to the point of dissolving. Louis suddenly remembers that Harry is tied up and it must be hurting by now, so with fingers still trembling he undoes the knots, taking off the rope from Harry's crack with kind and from his flaccid cock, still with the condom on, even kinder. He takes the condom off, tossing on the bin and take a time to admire the rashes where the strings constricted Harry, burning his skin, but Harry calls him impatient, worn out and whiny:
“Looou!”
Louis looks at Harry and 'Fuck', he thinks 'I'm totally screwed, all the ways imagined now'. Louis' heart is still pounding on his chest, but it skips a beat when he looks at Harry, because he is head over heels for him. It's insane and absolutely delightful.
“Prepare yourself for the most intense cuddling session of your life” Louis says jumping on bed. He picks up some tissues from the night stand, whipping them clean and hugs Harry so hard that he squeezes a laugh out of him. Life is beautiful.
-
They wake up at 11. PM. The house is quiet, and Louis wonders if Stan has been there. Some time in his sleep Harry turned his back to Louis, but his arm is still reaching up behind, holding onto Louis waist. He has that warm feeling building up on his chest, like he still can't believe what happened. That Harry is on his bed and... fuck, they've done lots of wild stuff. Louis is starting to worry if he's gone too far when Harry drags him into a sleepy cuddle.
“I can hear you thinking” he says against Louis hair.
“Hi. I didn't know you were awake...”
“I think I'm still dreaming” Harry says, and it's so sappy and just... absolutely him. Louis heart drops to his feet. “'m hungry” he whines, still sniffing Louis' hair.
“We can order... or not” Louis says when he checks the hour on his phone.
“Let me ask you, are you against morning breath kisses?” Harry asks fingers caressing Louis' belly very distracting. “This is very important to me, so think well befor...”
But Louis doesn't even answer, just kisses him to stop the ramble and because Harry is always very kissable.
“It's not morning yet but good, good” Harry mumbles, smiling sleepy and beautiful.
“Yeah, I know I'm a good kisser.”
“Don't be a show off, Lou! But yes, you are. What about me?”
“You are... above average” he jokes and Harry pinches his side, gasping outraged. “Fine. I'll need more kisses for better measure.”
They keep kissing for a while, feeling each others bodies and falling even more in love.
“Let me see your tattoo properly?” Harry asks, so Louis gives him his arm. Harry kisses it in reverence, then kisses all the way up to Louis' biceps, armpits, ribs, nipples... Louis is squirming all the time, ticklish. “Jesus, Lou, I'm just trying to be romantic here.”
“I'm sorry, I can't help it. Did you fuck me only because I had this tattoo?”
“Sort of” Harry admits smirking.
“Well, Zayn got one too, so let me know when you two will have it so I won't interrupt.”
“He did not!” Harry exclaims excited, sitting up. Louis only nods. “You two are the best.”
“Hey, I thought I was the best” Louis complains making a fake pout.
“You are” Harry says kissing it away, kissing Louis' whole face. “You are the best of the bestest.”
“Fine, I'll accept that. Now, shall we make some dinner. Or supper, given the time” Louis says putting on his boxers. “Ready to try my grub? I can't guarantee you won't have food poisoning, but...”
“I can cook” Harry announces, dressing up too.
“Really?” Louis asks smiling sly, sliding inside Harry's embrace. “In this case, I think I'm keeping you my hostage forever, Harry Styles.”
“I thought it was because I'm great in bed and stuff...”
“Shut up and kiss me” Louis demands, and so they do.
-
So, yeah, they've been dating for five months. At this point they are on the 'met-the-whole-family-and-planning-our-own' stage. Ok, maybe they're a little bit too enthusiastic about their relationship, but whatever.
Harry's friends, Liam and Niall, happened to be really nice (obviously, Harry chose them as friends, Harry and his amazing good taste). Louis made up to Niall by paying him a round, easy-peasy. Zayn and Liam seemed to bond instantly over comics. So they are a group of five now and hang out all the time, playing video games, going for drinks... during the Summer Niall likes to have barbecues on his backyard and they even go out with some of Harry's famous socialite friends.
The thing is: the other lads hate Louis&Harry. Like, when they're all chilling together. They secretly have a soft spot for them (especially Niall, who, to be fair, woos them like the moon around the Earth), but most of the times they are all comically annoyed. Especially because Harry and Louis are extremely cheesy and seem to not give a shit about PDA or showcasing disgusting habits they should keep for themselves – like sharing a gum.
But, yeah, it's funny how Zayn and Louis ended up getting lifts all the time on Sandy. Louis also had the best ride of his life in that car – well, Harry was the one riding.
Louis got a shitty job in a coffee shop and he's saving money to apply to drama school next year (Harry encouraged Louis to do so by bugging him for two weeks straight with text messages).
Being sappy as they are they love to talk about their relationship, so when they are at this cocktail party in the embassy of Ireland, courtesy of Niall's dad, they are glad to tell people how they've met.
“Oh, yeah, I stole his car” Louis says nonchalant, attached to Harry's waist. People laugh, because Louis is just that funny, isn't he? but Harry always jumps in to say:
“Come on, babe...” and looking at whoever they are talking to, like the professional charmer he is, he tells dead serious: “We've actually met in Stockholm.”
“Ah, that's so sweet” the old lady that happens to be the listener this time comments, tilting her neck with fondness.
“By the way, Switzerland is lovely this time of the year...” Louis says taking a sip of his champagne.
“Sweden” Harry corrects, kind and politely.
They keep chatting for a while with the guest, but when she turns around to greet someone else, Louis pulls Harry down by the jacket, whispering provocative: “You are getting a spank tonight for being such a naughty know-it-all.” And Harry laughs, amused and aroused, kissing Louis briefly.
“I love you and I like you” he whispers against Louis' lips, and grinning like crazy, unable to stop smiling, Louis replies:
“I like you and I love you.”