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It starts with nothing but a couple of hot flashes in the midst of his class. At first he thinks it’s just the surprisingly warm early autumn weather combined with the fluffy sweater he chose for today, but when the flashes begin to come and go more persistently as the class goes on, he has to accept what’s happening — he’s going into heat in front of his whole class.
It's Harry's first day at his new job. His first day at his new job, and the universe decided that he should go into heat today. Not even wait until he gets home but right now.
On any other day it wouldn’t bother him that much. It wouldn’t be the first nor the last time he would work during his heat, since they’re usually quite easy on him, but he’s already nervous about how he'll fit in at his new job. Before today, he was nervous about what kind of reception he’d get from his students but it turns out those worries were for nothing; they’ve been relatively easy on him.
Still, he really didn’t want to deal with his heat on top of everything else. Must be some stress-related spontaneous heat , he thinks to himself, since he’s sure it hasn’t been three months since the previous one.
Stress-induced or not, if the looks on his students' faces is anything to go by, it's still enough for them to sense and smell it. Harry finds the flushes on their cheeks endearing if anything, but it still doesn’t make it any less awkward.
It's a massive elephant in the room, but he carries on with his presentation like normal, clicking to the next slide. “What’s important to remember is that it all comes down to how easy play is for each child individually."
His talk visibly snaps the class out of the odd moment of tension. Those who were paying attention before get back to writing their notes, and those who were never paying attention in the first place carry on scrolling their phones.
It’s not surprising, but it’s still definitely disappointing that there are several students who are doing neither. Instead, they’re observing Harry’s every move like hawks, watching him like he suddenly became nothing but a piece of meat.
He doesn’t blame them for their raging hormones, but he wishes they’d all have some sense of decorum. Obnoxious ogling is not only rude; it’s also highly fear-inducing to a lot of people when they’re in vulnerable positions. Harry doesn’t feel threatened per se, not in front of the whole class, but it doesn't make him any less uncomfortable.
He ignores it though, and only tilts his chin higher up. “Every child is an individual, and some might need concrete material in order to be encouraged to play, while some need none and can just rely on their imagination. It’s important to pay attention to these factors, since we know play is absolutely essential for the child’s development."
“Shouldn’t you be at home?” asks one of the oglers from the back of the class. His name might have been Ash, but Harry’s not sure. He has a terrible memory when it comes to names.
Harry feels the hackles on the back of his neck stand up from sheer irritation. “Why should I be at home?”
The guy gestures vaguely with his hands. “Because you’re in… Yeah.”
“In heat?” Harry finishes for him. “You can say it, you know. At least half of this class deals with them from time to time. It’s not a dirty word.”
The boy gets noticeably fidgety, possibly not expecting Harry to clap back the way he did. “Of course not, I just… Isn’t it unsafe for you, though?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. Are you going to mount me?” Harry challenges the boy, to which he shakes his head immediately. Harry feels almost bad when he sees the look on his face, and begins to think the concern came from a genuine place.
He doesn't blame himself for assuming things. Most of the time it does not come from a genuine place but rather from a place eerily similar to 'don't want to see you walk home alone, let me walk you'.
He’s glad to see most of the alphas in his class are behaving well. He still looks around the class, raising his eyebrows as he asks, “Is someone else going to jump me?”
He hears a few faint ‘no’s and sees plenty shaking their heads. He turns his attention back to the boy who brought up the topic and shrugs, “Seems like I can finish this class just fine then.”
Just when he turns back to the powerpoint, someone, somewhere in the back, whispers to their friend, “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to.”
This time it’s not just irritation that bubbles in Harry’s chest, it’s pure anger, and somewhere deeper, even fear. He turns back around to gawk at the boys in the back. “Is that something you’d like to share with the whole class?” he asks, causing each and every student to turn towards the two.
Neither one looks as sorry as the previous guy. “Not really. It’s just that the scent of a heat is… quite a knottease. Makes a guy a little uncomfortable."
“That sounds more of like a you problem,” Harry points out, and he can see the flash of a snarl on the other guy’s face. He doesn’t want to make any enemies on his first day but he’s never not calling out problematic behavior. “Or do you disagree?"
"I'd like to say I do."
"So you're saying it's my problem if an oh-so-strong alpha loses all their focus after a tiny whiff of pussy in heat?"
There’s a couple of ‘Oh!’s echoing in the class but most are muting their shocked gasps behind their hands.
Both of the guys look embarrassed enough for Harry to be satisfied. “No, Professor,” the other one grumbles.
Maybe Harry's a bit of a dick for a professor.
The truth is, being in heat in public is dangerous, because of alphas like these two. Heats are much like periods; some have them easier, some have them worse. Those who don't get intense hot flashes, cramps, and the extremely hazardous loss of awareness can usually carry on with their usual day to day activities like normal. Some choose to stay at home simply because it would be too uncomfortable to do stuff during it.
Harry considers himself lucky that it’s never been too bad for him.
Still, the scent is all the same, and the majority of alphas have difficulties controlling themselves no matter how intense or easy the omega’s heat is. They have trouble controlling themselves even when no one is in heat to be honest, so Harry’s really not expecting much from them at this point.
Harry holds his gaze on the two alphas until they cower and turn their eyes away.
At this point, Harry knows he's making enemies. No alpha likes displaying submission for an omega, especially in a room full of others.
But Harry's the professor here, and he's the one who should be in control of the room.
"I suggest you actually pay attention to what I say,” Harry finally says, and decides to leave it at that. At least for now. He clicks on the next slide and carries on with his lecture, "Back to the actual topic of this class.”
One thing about heats is that the surrounding scents turn more distinct because of some ancient instincts. Harry feels highly inappropriate whiffing the oozing pheromones of his students, even though he’s not doing it entirely consciously. Most of them are not alluring to him in any way, but they’re still captivating enough for his inner omega to enjoy.
I am no better than an alpha, Harry thinks to himself when he gets absorbed into the scents of his class.
There’s one scent in particular that keeps grabbing his attention, coming from somewhere near the middle of the class. While the students are having group conversations about how to encourage a shyer, more timid child into social play, Harry tries to locate the source of the scent.
As he scans the class, his eyes finally land on the suspect. Harry believes his name is Louis.
For some reason that name really stuck with him. Maybe because as soon as Harry said his name, he got corrected by the guy that it's pronounced Louie, not Lewis.
Louie is currently actively engaged in the conversation of his group, so Harry takes a moment to take in the sight of him. Harry doesn’t get how one can look so appealing in a one size too large Adidas sweater and matching trackies, but somehow this person does. He’s very hard to look away from once his eyes land on him.
His hair is undoubtedly messy under his beanie, judging by the mess of a fringe peeking out on his forehead. There are faint bags under his eyes and he’s holding a large cup of takeaway coffee in his other hand. Harry concludes he must be a night owl who stayed up a bit too late again and is now trying to get through the day with the aid of nothing but caffeine. Harry was the same when he was in college.
Harry takes a discreet whiff, concealing it as just a deep sigh. As soon as the scent of the suspect carries into his nostrils, Harry’s eyes fall closed. Entirely involuntarily even, and that, if anything, is embarrassing.
Harry quickly catches himself before he can get too lost in his own head and opens his eyes. It's shocking to see Louis looking right back at him with his strikingly blue, tired eyes, and Harry startles, quickly averting his gaze.
Great.
Now he’ll think Harry’s the one who’s preying on his students during his heat. Harry really wouldn’t like to get fired before he has properly started.
He forces himself to keep his eyes at bay, and instead focuses on listening to the pleasant chatter of the class. Though he’s not able to make out anything specific, he enjoys listening to the students being so active with the task at hand.
Still, it’s not enough to distract him from the pleasant scent lingering around him, a tad stronger now. It’s an addicting, earthy scent, with a sprinkle of something sweet and sophisticated.
Harry feels the hot waves come stronger now and he discreetly amps up the air conditioning in the room.
He can't help but glance over at Louis again, now slouching on his chair. The way his legs are spread makes his lap look like an unfairly inviting place to sit.
Focus , Harry tells himself, you’re being inappropriate. He looks up at Louis' face again, only to get attacked by the piercing blue crystals in his eyes. They're staring right back at him, accompanied by a subtle but still strangely smug smirk playing on his narrow lips.
It makes Harry feel so easy, makes him feel like Louis thinks he's easy. And that makes him want to snarl.
He's not easy, not even during his heat. Any alpha who thinks omegas are fighting against presenting every second of their heat are just obnoxious knotheads. Which is most of them.
Harry tears his eyes off before he can actually snarl and tilts his chin up to say, "Right! Let's share some thoughts.” He hops on his desk to listen and gestures to the first group. “Group one, please.”
One by one, each group shares what they had come up with over the past 20 minutes.
When he gets to group number four, also known as Louis' group, Harry finally gets to look at him without coming off as… Well, creepy.
His entire face flares when he sees Louis looking back at him even though the eye contact was expected. It still makes his heart skip a beat or two.
Harry doesn't want to timidly look away again, as it only makes him seem more obvious, but he can’t not look away. Louis' gaze goes straight to his core, settles somewhere deep in his belly, and Harry really doesn't want to pop a boner in front of the entire class. Let alone get slick and make his feelings even more obvious for pretty much everyone in the class.
He tries to focus on the girl who’s currently talking. Apparently she has claimed her spot as the chairperson of the group. She keeps twirling her hair while gazing at Harry, and it’s endearing and refreshing to see how differently an alpha like her tries to flirt, or just generally reacts to his heat, compared to some of the other ones.
“Going with the child and asking to join the play?” Harry questions when she's done. “How would that concretely go, in practice?”
She stops twirling her hair. “Well. You know–"
“You can talk to the child beforehand,” interrupts Louis, and Harry is forced to look back at him. The rasp and higher pitch in his voice is delicious, and that alone is enough to make Harry blush, but his piercing gaze is the worst.
As much as Harry dislikes cliches, he swears there’s an entire ocean in his eyes; something mysterious and powerful but also something so… calm. Most of all, something dangerous above the surface.
“And what would you talk about?” It takes real effort from Harry to talk in a normal voice and not get all sultry.
“About what they can say to the other kids and how they can ask to join. Maybe suggest bringing a toy to another child?” Louis says, pursing his lips. “But I think if you want to encourage a shy and timid child to social play, you can’t just expect them to go out there right away. Why not just watch the play with the child at first? Find out what kind of play the kid likes? Talk about what makes them feel shy or nervous? What does it feel like for them? Things like that. Lead the child but not too much. Give them space.”
The girl doesn’t seem too happy that Louis stole her moment, and the way she catches herself before she can snarl almost makes Harry laugh. He nods, plucking up the courage to properly look at Louis. “That’s very true, it is a slow process. Recognizing the emotions that arise when thinking about playing with other kids is important because that’s the core of everything. Once you recognize them, you can start working on them.”
The chairperson girl butts back in. “ As long as you don’t force it. Go with the kid’s pace.”
Louis frowns at her, “That’s what I said.”
“No, you didn’t.”
"That was literally my whole point," Louis says with a frown. "Too bad you couldn't make yours clear."
The bickering reminds Harry of two courting candidates fighting who gets to impress him. It’s most likely not the case but for some reason he enjoys the idea of Louis fighting for his attention a little too much. Not just his attention, but his praise even.
"No need to get mean and competitive, we're all here to learn, right?"
Both nod simultaneously at him, a steady "right" leaving both their mouths in perfect sync.
“Okay, moving on,” Harry says with a chuckle. “Very good points there. Both of you.”
The beamy, preening smile Louis gives him leaves Harry breathless. The smile he gives to the girl has more sneer in it, and it’s a hefty reminder to Harry that college students, most of the time, are no adults. On some occasions, they can be extremely immature and childish, and Louis is no older than nineteen, after all.
Not that there’s anything wrong with occasional child-like demeanor. It’s refreshing in a way, and considering their age it’s expected, if not encouraged. But the way Harry expresses it at the age of 27 might be too different to how Louis expresses it at his age.
Why is he even worrying about such things? It’s not like anything will ever happen between them, so he shouldn’t care if Louis was the most childish person on the planet. He wishes he was, so Harry would maybe find him a little less appealing.
Though Harry’s omega is keen on disagreeing with the voice of reason most of the time, so he's not exactly surprised they feel drawn to Louis.
Before his omega could make Harry flop on his back and expose his belly in submission, he gestures to the next group to distract himself. “Group five?”
Harry hears none of what the rest of the groups are saying.
He might have been wrong about being able to carry on with daily tasks as normal. He feels awful for letting everything his students say go in from one ear and right out from the other, but the only thing he can do is vaguely nod along.
He's so submerged in Louis' scent, he hears nothing that's being said, and his omega only wants to crawl on Louis’ lap. It's never been like this for him, so why now? Why on such an important day? Louis is a student. He’s nineteen. That’s eight birthdays less than Harry has had.
When Louis lets his knees suddenly fall even further apart, Harry gets assaulted by the sudden, intensified scent of pine. It's alluring, dangerously so, and Harry curses himself for having such a sensitive nose. He shouldn't want to bury his face between any of his student's thighs.
God , he's a terrible person. No morals, and no decorum.
The rush of the scent doesn't seem to catch anyone else's attention, so Harry thinks it might just be his heat. Again. The shift of Louis’ legs didn't seem to be a conscious move either, since he's very much focused on the ideas the last group is sharing.
Unlike Harry.
He feels light-headed and woozy by the end of the class, barely having any memory of the conversations that have taken place.
He's glad he's been sitting down, or he would have passed out a long time ago. The hot waves keep coming and going, and he begins to feel more and more feverish as minutes pass by.
He sends a quiet thank you to the universe when he finally gets to dismiss the class.
"I'll see you all on Wednesday,” he says as he hops down from his desk and circles around it so he's closer to the air conditioner. He sits down on his chair, feeling oddly woozy.
Louis is taking his time packing everything into his bag, so when the rest of the class has gone, Harry is left alone with his distinctive scent. Smelling so good and looking so good all at once should be illegal. Just simply banned. By law.
It's a dangerous combination. Harry can practically feel his cunt pulse, and he wishes there was a thigh between his legs to press it against. Preferably even hump against.
Harry shifts his weight on the chair he's sitting on. He barely stops himself from biting his lip and sighing when the chair drags against him just right. Saddle chairs should also be banned by law.
Get a grip , he tells himself. When has he ever wanted to hump a chair because of a heat? Never.
"Everything alright?"
Harry snaps out of the intrusive thoughts at the sound of Louis' deliciously raspy voice. Louis is looking at him, looking both concerned and amused, and Harry fears he might have been rutting against the chair after all. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking. I guess."
His voice sounds shaky in his own ears but hopefully it's not too obvious for an outsider.
Louis' mouth curls into a smile. "You guess? Was I in the wrong for asking?”
“No. It’s just… Just because I’m in heat doesn’t mean I suddenly won’t be alright. I know myself the best.”
Chill, Harry, let people be kind.
“I didn’t claim anything else,” Louis points out, annoyingly calm and kind. “But I know college students with raging hormones can be such knobs. Campuses have quite terrible reputations, even without the hormones involved. If you know what I mean."
“Yes, I know. I lived on one too.”
With that, Louis suddenly gets flustered, and averts Harry’s eyes. He fiddles with the rips on the sleeve of his jumper. “Right. I didn’t mean to imply you wouldn’t know, I just… You’re not the first professor to carry on with classes as normal through their whole cycle, but they're often on suppressants which makes the scent a lot less noticeable. And you’re new… Not everyone is as noble as you give them credit for.”
Harry can’t help the small smile that tugs his lips. “I’m not really giving anyone any ‘credit’ for anything. I’m not on suppressants, I wear scent neutralizers during heats but this one kind of… caught me off guard. I don’t wear them for the comfort of others, I wear them for my own.”
Why is he talking about his heat habits to his student? Louis, of all students? Harry’s all for normalizing bodily functions, but discussing it with his students on a more personal level is not something he ever saw himself doing.
"Yeah, of course."
Harry doesn't miss the way Louis breathes in a little deeper, even though he tries to be discreet. Then he almost…. flinches?
Did he just…?
Louis just blatantly whiffed. And nearly flinched.
Oh, god , does he smell bad to Louis? Harry doesn't even know why he cares, but he really doesn't want to smell repulsing to him.
There's something exhilarating knowing Louis can smell his heat; his hormones and his cunt, even though that's how they're built, and if Louis finds all of that flinch inflicting, Harry’s going to cower for the rest of the year.
Louis is not the only one who can smell him, obviously, but Harry apparently only cares about his nose.
Not that he should make any assumptions. Maybe Louis is more keen on alphas. Maybe he prefers omega women. Maybe he’s a-dynamic. There could be a lot of reasons he flinched, Harry tells himself.
Still. One shouldn’t flinch, no matter what.
Blush rising on his cheeks, the words fly out before he can stop himself, "Do I smell bad or something?"
Louis zips his bag, frowning, and whips his head back up. "What? No. Not at all, it's just… It's definitely distinct."
Harry squirms. "In a bad way?"
"Not in a bad way. It's just different, that's all. Different is not a bad thing, you know," Louis chuckles, and Harry can only give him a weak smile. He hopes Louis is not just saying so to be polite. Louis throws the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "Have a nice day, Harry. Sorry for prying, and stay safe."
Harry clears his throat, tilting his chin up despite the blush on his cheeks.
Louis gives him a cheeky smile. "Alright?”
Harry’s sure he’ll end up disliking Louis if he keeps this up. Maybe it would be for the best. “You should address me as ‘professor’,” he points out.
Louis’ eyes go equally round as his mouth but Harry doesn’t for one second believe he’s actually upset he forgot the formality. It barely takes a second for the little mischievous smile to come back on his face. “Oh, sorry. Professor Styles. "
"You have a nice day too, Louis."
“Oh, I will.”
With that, Louis finally leaves the classroom. Harry rolls his eyes as he shakes his head. “Such a kid. I could never be into him,” he murmurs to himself, but the longing pulse in his cunt disagrees.
He blames it on his heat.
ΩΩΩ
Louis misses Harry’s Pedagogy of Play class on Tuesday, and he doesn’t participate in Harry’s Speech and Language Development class on Thursday, either. Harry feels stupidly gloomy about it.
But the more his heat fades, the more he realizes all that infatuation he felt towards Louis on Monday was just his heat talking. He barely misses him on Thursday. He barely notices he’s gone, if he's being honest.
Or so he tries to convince himself.
The next time Louis makes an appearance is Friday. For whatever reason, the mysterious ocean spark in his eyes has dimmed. He looks more tired than he did on Monday, and not even the cup of coffee he’s having is able to save him this time.
He still smells… intense. Even more so than before, and it’s enough to arouse Harry’s heat back to life. No one's scent has ever made Harry fall back into heat, so he's beginning to grow even more curious about Louis and his effect on him.
There are only a few, rare occasions where the scent of someone can inflict heat or rut, and Harry doesn’t believe in any of them. They’re not mated by bonding marks and they’re definitely not truebonds.
That would just be some higher authority playing a joke on Harry.
He just needs to sit on a knot. Any knot. Problem would be solved.
He's just horny.
He’s been fucking his dildo for the past four heats. Maybe his omega is beginning to feel extremely unsatisfied by the lack of dick in his life. Could explain his sudden intrigue with the possibly best looking student on the whole campus.
Student, he reminds himself, it's wrong.
God, he just needs dick.
Harry needs to get such thoughts out of his head before there's a wet spot in his trousers. He really chose the worst day to wear beige, a color that makes everything visible. Traitorous color, that one.
“Before you go, I’d like to remind you that on Tuesday we formed pairs and made the schedule for the guided-play practicum,” Harry says towards the end of the class. “I hope you all have found a pair by now.”
Louis blinks hard, eyebrows shooting so high up it looks like he’s not just shocked by what he’s hearing but also forcing his eyes open. Harry knows that look. It’s the look of ‘I only snapped out of my thoughts because I have missed this piece of information completely and now I’m screwed and having a mild heart attack.’
He looks up at Harry, confused but also almost pleading. Harry doesn’t expect his breath to hitch at the eyelock. It’s just… His tired eyes are even worse than the lively spark he had in them on Monday, especially combined with the absolute mess of hair that’s not hidden by a beanie this time, and the scruff on his cheeks.
It's like he just rolled out of bed.
Plus the look, so puppy-like.
Harry quietly clears his throat, worried he might start chirping some weird mating call. “I put the list of pairs on the course platform. If you were absent, find yourself a pair and go add your names to the list. Choose one of the free dates you’ll do the guided-play on.”
Louis sags a little at the addition, seemingly relieved that his life is not ending because of his slip up.
Harry remembers what it’s like being a student. One can’t always keep up with everything that’s going on, especially if you have dozens of courses running at the same time. Students are humans, though most people expect them not to be.
“That’s all for today,” Harry finishes. “Class dismissed.”
The students start gathering their stuff, and this time Louis is one of the first ones to dash out, but Harry stops him. “Louis? Do you have a minute?”
Louis looks a bit taken aback and way too worried for what Harry’s about to discuss.
“I’ll meet you in the library,” Louis’ friend, Niall, says to him.
Louis nods and replies, “I’ll be right there.”
As Louis steps a bit closer to Harry's desk, Harry can smell the strong pine in his scent. It makes Harry's head spin and his cunt drip. Hopefully it won’t be too evident this time, since Harry’s wearing scent neutralizes.
Louis’ eyes skim around nervously. “Am I in trouble or something?”
Harry can’t help but chuckle. “No. But I couldn’t help but notice you were absent the whole week. You also didn’t turn in the pre-class assignment for today nor the essay for the Language and Speech Development class.”
Louis wrinkles his nose, and it shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. “Yeah, sorry I was… A little occupied.”
“I’m sure you were, one can’t always have time for school projects, but I would appreciate it if you asked beforehand if you needed an extension. I don’t mind flexibility, but I can’t offer it if you won’t ask me.”
“I meant to.”
“But you didn’t,” Harry says, not unkindly, mostly just as an observation. He nods towards the empty takeaway cup in Louis’ hands. “And you were dozing off during the class. Am I just a boring lecturer or is there something going on?”
It’s only natural for him to be worried about his students’ well-being. There’s nothing more to it.
The corner of Louis’ mouth curls up to a little smile. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Just some personal stuff but it’s dealt with. Certainly has nothing to do with your lectures, I find them quite interesting. A little bit of change in the midst of all those monotonic knob-” Louis catches himself before he can finish the sentence.
Harry snorts, quickly bringing his hand over his mouth and pinches his lips to keep himself from smiling. “Please, don’t talk about my colleagues like that.”
“Sorry."
“Anyway,” Harry says and drops his hand down, “If you need some arrangements–"
“I'm fine, Harry. I just went through an unexpected rut, if you must now. I'm back now, I don't miss classes for fun. Though I understand I might seem like the type."
Harry flushes beet red at the mention of Louis in a rut, almost like he’s twelve again, and newly curious about the way bodies work. His voice comes out embarrassingly squeaky. " Professor Styles."
He hates that Louis smirks. “Sorry, professor .”
Pull yourself together, Harry tells himself, he looks way too smug, he knows what kind of effect he has on you. Harry puffs his chest, but his confidence doesn’t seem to phase Louis in any way.
It’s a sign of a healthy alpha self-esteem, Harry has learned. If their ego is too big, then nothing hurts it more than a confident omega, or someone who is trying to overpower them in any way.
"Anyways. I don't know what you mean by 'seem like the type' but I don't judge a book by its cover,” Harry says to which Louis replies with a little, more flustered smile. “If everything's fine I won't hold you any more and I’m sorry for prying. But please turn in the pre-class assignment on Monday and the essay by Tuesday."
"Sure will."
Louis pinches his nose, and he tries to be subtle about it, but not subtle enough for Harry to miss it. It makes him so self-conscious, and he wants to cower. Again. Why is Louis acting like he can’t stand being anywhere near him?
Harry's puffed chest all but deflates. "Um."
He rubs the side of his neck, which only further stimulates his scent gland, judging by the way Louis looks up to the ceiling like he's sending a quiet prayer to the universe. "Is my scent bothering you that much? Is that why you didn't show up?"
Louis' head snaps back down, and he's frowning. "What? No. It's just… You have a strong scent and I just passed a rut, so."
Harry blushes even more, and the heat of nothing but embarrassment makes his jumper feel tacky against his skin. "Oh. I'm wearing a neutralizer, though."
"I barely notice the neutralizer, to be honest."
Harry pinches his lip between his fingers as he peers at Louis curiously. "Oh? You mean I might have been… walking around reeking the whole week?"
"You do not reek , for crying out loud," Louis says, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. "If you must know, you smell toe-curlingly good to me. I asked two of my friends if they could smell you and they couldn't, so. You're good. It's just my rut talking."
Harry smells toe-curlingly good to Louis. Louis is not repulsed by the scent of him. Harry's omega is all but preening, wanting to nuzzle into the crook of Louis' neck, right by his scent gland, and show him just how much he appreciates the compliment.
Focus, Harry.
But… Louis missed his classes. It doesn't make sense Louis avoided them because of his repulsing scent, then. Unless…
The words fly out again, all on their own, "You think you might have hurt me?"
Louis groans, throwing his head back in a dramatic manner. "Jesus Christ, Harry, no . But it's not a secret that heat smells good for someone who's omega-inclined and also in a rut. I would prefer to not go an entire lecture with a raging boner. It's not exactly unnoticeable let alone comfortable in its full glory."
A raging boner that's not exactly– Hmm.
Harry's fishmouthing and stuttering, and for once, the words are caught in his throat. At least he’s unable to blurt out anything stupid, so maybe he should be thankful for that.
He just wants to bend over. Right now. On this very desk. Find out exactly how unnoticeable it is in its ‘full glory’.
God, Harry's dripping.
If he's not mistaken, he can see a faint blush beginning to rise on Louis' cheeks as well. Louis gestures vaguely, and the look in his eyes is weary and frustrated, if anything. "Sorry for the straight forwardness. 'Twas inappropriate."
"It's fine," Harry squeaks. "At least you're being honest."
Louis' mouth and brow quirk at that.
"I'll see you next week, Louis. Please turn in the assignments to avoid further trouble."
"Will do," Louis smiles. "Have a nice weekend, Ha-"
Harry cocks his eyebrows.
" Professor."
Harry's not able to help his grin. "You too."
Louis is already leaving, but he stops by the door, turning around on his heels and flashing Harry a mischievous grin. That glint in his eyes that Harry thought was entirely gone for whatever reason is back. "Cute dimples, by the way."
Harry purses his lips, trying to look firm, but he has a feeling he's terribly failing. "Now, that's inappropriate."
"Me talking about having a boner is just me being honest but me saying you have cute dimples is inappropriate?"
The class is empty but Harry still peers around him in panic, worried someone might be eavesdropping. His cheeks are still burning, and there is no way Louis can't see it. He can probably smell his embarrassment, too, if he has as sensitive of a nose as he claims.
Harry shakes his head slightly. "One is an involuntary reaction. Though of course one might debate that saying it out loud was unnecessary.”
"Well," Louis says as he takes a few steps towards Harry again. "It might be an involuntary bodily function but do you think I voluntarily want to find my professor's dimples cute?"
"You're welcome to find my dimples cute," Harry calmly states, hating how much his heart is racing at the endearing confession. Still, for the sake of them both, he adds, "Just don't tell me about it."
"Was about to ask you to reject me so I can move on, but that'll do," Louis says with a humorously exaggerated pout of his lips, the corners turning downwards in a comical way. "Noted."
Harry giggles, and Louis definitely gets some satisfaction from making him laugh, judging by the way his pout turns into a subtle grin. “Oh, there they are again.”
“Stop it,” Harry insists, though he’s not able to get the amount of sturdiness in his voice as he’d like to, and he pinches his cheeks to keep himself from smiling and to hide his dimples. "You're too bold for your own good.”
"Clearly not bold enough."
Harry wants to push him out of the classroom and slam the door shut. Instead, he just points at the door in what he hopes looks like a very direct hint. "Goodbye, Louis."
“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Louis says and slightly raises his hands as if to surrender. “See you later.”
Sighing and rolling his eyes, Harry gathers his stuff into his bag, glad that he’s finishing for today as well.
A little fantasy never hurt anyone , he convinces himself that night when he's riding his favorite knot-dildo and imagining it's a specific student's dick.
ΩΩΩ
The prolonged heat had Harry seeking medical attention since it’s directly linked to his reproductive health, and if there’s something he wants more than anything in life, it’s to have babies at some point.
He doesn’t want to risk anything. He wanted to make sure everything’s fine as soon as possible.
Still, seeing a gynecologist never stops being uncomfortable.
“There’s some external swelling but that’s normal due to your prolonged heat. Everything else seems to be fine, nothing abnormal," Dr. Jones says, and kicks her chair back closer to the trash can. She pulls her gloves off and adds, "We should get the blood test results back by tomorrow morning but the pap smear can take up to three weeks, I'm afraid."
“I just wanna know what's going on,” Harry says, whining almost, as he sits up on the examination table. He looks up at Dr. Jones, lips protruding into a small pout. “It’s been going on for over a week.”
“I can imagine how frustrating that must be,” Dr. Jones says with the best empathetic smile she can offer. “Have you recently started dating anyone new? This might be your body’s attempt to match their cycle.”
Harry shakes his head, a little gloomily. “Not dating anyone, no.”
“Met anyone else new? Someone that might have stirred your omega’s interest?”
Blush rises on Harry’s cheeks, and he can only pray it’s not too evident. How is he going to tell her that he just started at a new job at university and there’s one student attending his classes that his omega is particularly fond of?
That’s it. His omega. It’s entirely subconscious. Harry has got nothing to do with it. Besides, Harry doubts Louis has anything to do with this problem, anyway.
Harry folds his hands on his lap and fiddles with his rings. “I… started a new job. I guess there’s a colleague that has sparked some interest. But not even crushes have made my body react like this before.”
Dr. Jones hums thoughtfully. “Are you familiar with the concept of truebonds?”
“I’ve heard about it,” Harry admits quietly. “My friend found their mate that way. But isn’t it, like, extremely unusual?”
“It’s not as unusual as people ought to think,” Dr. Jones reassures. “There’s been a lot of research done on the concept, but science still can’t entirely explain the phenomenon. However, there’s enough data for us to say it’s not always entirely random. If you meet someone you click almost unnaturally well with, it’s not unheard of for your wolf to sort of make a biteless bond on its own without your permission. It’s like your wolf telling you ‘I want this one’.”
Harry snorts quietly, tucking a stubborn strand of curls behind his ear. His cheeks are still burning, and Dr. Jones discussing the matter does nothing to help. “Sounds like something my wolf would do. We just… we haven’t really even talked. I feel like my heat started the second I saw him.”
Smiling, Dr. Jones goes to grab a few pamphlets from one of her bookshelves and hands them over to Harry. “Then there must be some very strong connection only your wolf can sense. Sometimes it’s okay, even encouraged, to listen to those instincts.”
Those instincts cause nothing but trouble to everyone. Especially in this case.
Harry looks down at the pamphlet, cocking his eyebrow at the drawing of a comically shocked guy on the front and the text ‘ My wolf bonded to my best friend’s mate ’. He glares at Dr. Jones under his eyebrows, and holds up the piece of paper, “ This did not happen to me.”
Dr. Jones chuckles. “I didn’t assume so. But the pamphlets have important information in general, so I recommend reading through them. I’m not saying this is your case, but the test in the back might give you some idea.”
Sighing, Harry nods. “If this is the case… Is there a way to break the bond?”
“Oh, yeah. In some ways true mate bonding is even stronger than bite-bonding, especially if you’re not in an established relationship. People have described it’s like having half a heart persistently pulling you towards the other half. But if you decide not to act on the bond, then avoiding the exposure will eventually do the trick. Not saying it’s going to be easy, though.”
Great.
Harry has broken one bond before when he was 22, and he’s not looking forward to going through the misery again. It’s different from breaking up… It’s like a part of your soul is being torn away from you, and Harry can’t remember anything making his omega as miserable as that did.
Avoiding ‘exposure’ is out of the question too, since Harry doesn’t exactly want to quit his job already. He was just getting started, and he really likes the work environment, despite this little unfortunate incident.
“Does it affect alphas the same way?” Harry asks, quickly remembering the ‘unexpected rut’ Louis had last week. “The true bond, I mean.”
Dr. Jones nods. “More or less. Various symptoms have been reported. Some alphas have more severe reactions and some much milder. Most of the time the symptoms are tolerable, according to data. Your alpha should be more or less fine.”
Your alpha.
Harry hates how much his omega enjoys the sound of that.
ΩΩΩ
“I’m convinced I’m dying.”
The unexpected declaration pulls Harry’s focus off the computer screen. He peers over it, meeting the eyes of very disheveled looking Louis standing in front of his desk. His hair is sticking out in every possible direction, and there are prominent circles under his eyes.
“You’re convinced you’re dying?” Harry asks to clarify, watching as Louis feverishly nods. Harry’s not entirely sure just how serious Louis is exactly, so he doesn’t dare to let the amusement show too much on his face.
Nor is he about to start consoling him about the apparently upcoming death.
Pulling his glasses off his head, Harry folds them on his desk and crosses his fingers under his chin, giving Louis his undying attention. "And what, if I may ask, have convinced you you're dying?"
"I'm in a rut. Again."
Immediately blushing, Harry averts Louis’ eyes and pretends to rearrange the papers on his desk instead. "Is that so?"
Technically, Harry knew that the second Louis walked in. He was assaulted by his intensively heady scent, but it’s different hearing the words falling out of Louis’ lips.
Louis is in a rut. He’s not going into one, he’s not just coming out of one, he’s in a rut at this very second. And he’s in Harry’s office. While Harry's still in heat. Under any other circumstances, Harry would already be nervous, but with Louis… Either he knows deep within that Louis is not going to hurt him, or Louis really shakes his sense of self preservation.
"I know it sounds crazy and you don't have to believe it since I just had one but I can't attend the practicum on Friday. It generally takes up to three days for it to settle. I wouldn't miss them if I didn't have to but I just can't go there.”
Sighing, Harry forces himself to look up at Louis. The look in his eyes is wild but nowhere near feral; it doesn’t feel threatening in any way. Harry still feels oddly calm in his presence, and at peace with being perceived by him, even when it’s being done so intensively.
Louis must be aware of his ongoing heat; there’s no way he isn’t.
"Rut leaves count as excused absences, so if you need to be absent, then you’ll be absent,” Harry points out. “Although if these ‘unexpected ruts’ start showing up a little too frequently, I’ll be forced to fail your practicum. You can’t write a compensatory essay for practical skills.”
“I know.”
“Ruts also don’t exactly stop anyone from attending classes if they can remain calm and collected. Are you afraid you might mount someone?"
Harry doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that passes through Louis’ face.
"Aren't you a bit of a dick for a professor?" Louis asks with a humorless chuckle. "No, I'm not worried about that. I just can't quite focus when it feels like my dick's about to fall off."
All this rut and dick talk is definitely not helping Harry to get over his heat. Despite the longing ache between his legs, Harry tries to seem appropriately nonchalant as he asks, "And that's what has convinced you you're dying?"
"Keep making fun of me, alright, that's what all my mates are doing too," Louis says, his tone quieter now. "It's painful, okay? I can't knot for whatever reason, and it's all– It doesn't matter what it is! It's painful and it's all I can think about and I’m not attending the class. For my own comfort."
It seems too much of a coincidence for Louis to be going through such a messed up rut cycle at the same time as Harry’s going through all these problems with his heat, all after the first class Harry held last week.
If Louis is not in any way aware of what their wolves have been doing behind their backs, then he has a right to know, and Harry should really tell him.
He just… doesn't know how to approach the subject. He doesn't want Louis to think Harry's some creep who preys on his students.
“I do believe you,” Harry says after a while, whispering almost. His words, or the softness of his tone, seems to catch Louis off guard since his head all but snaps up, his eyebrow cocked in a suspicious manner. Harry takes a deep breath and shoots his shot, “Can you close the door, please? I need to talk to you about something."
Cocked eyebrow turning into a full frown, Louis turns around on his heels and goes to close the office door.
“Have a seat. Please.”
“Is this going to take long?” Louis asks, his face twisted into an uncomfortable grimace as he sits down on the chair on the other side of Harry’s desk.
Slightly frowning, Harry shrugs. “I hope not. Is everything okay?”
Louis has his eyes closed as he nods, his knee bouncing up and down anxiously. “Yeah, I’m just– But maybe you missed the part of me being in a rut… And you smell quite divine at the moment.”
At this point the blush on Harry’s cheeks might as well be painted on.
Harry has met many, many attractive people during his heats before, some of whom have been on the brink of their ruts, and he has never wanted to spread his legs open as much as he wants to do it right now.
All Louis has to do is sit right there on the chair, and Harry is ready to present.
Louis' scent wraps around him like a tender hug, intoxicating in the best possible way. It smells so much like a picnic in a forest; something sweet yet sophisticated like dark chocolate, sprinkled with a touch of pine and rain. It’s everything Harry is addicted to.
Harry spins his chair around and opens the window to breathe in some fresh air, not caring one bit that Louis must be observing him. If anything, in some strange way, he wants to be perceived.
His underwear is tacky against his skin, uncomfortably damp from where he's been persistently leaking ever since Louis stormed into his office.
"Professor Styles?" Louis' voice comes out strained, but also concerned.
"I'm sorry, I got a little woozy for some reason." Harry spins his chair back around, feeling more slick bloom into his pants at the sight of Louis and his disheveled hair and large dark pupils.
It takes some serious effort to stop his mind from wandering.
"What did you want to talk about?" Louis asks.
"Right. About that," Harry starts again only to get distracted by the grip Louis has on the chair. He can see how hard Louis is clutching the armrest, and how heavily his chest is moving as he breathes. The scent is unmistakable; Louis is aroused.
Louis is an alpha and he’s in a rut, no doubt aroused, and currently sitting in Harry's office while Harry's going through yet another episode of strangely intensifying heat.
By now there's no doubt about what his omega has been doing, and what he wants right now. Who he wants, more precisely.
Despite the sudden spike in Louis’ scent, Harry still doesn't feel threatened, nor does he feel like kicking Louis out. If anything, Harry wants him to stay. Wants him to spread his legs open, lick the excess slick off his thighs and fuck him. Preferably even knot him so Harry could feel all those hot pulses filling him up.
Harry squeezes his thighs together as he gets even wetter, and soothes a hand over his tummy where his uterus is longingly contracting. Even his cunt is throbbing as he looks at the veins bulging on the back of Louis' hand.
Suddenly, Louis speaks. "It's you."
Harry blinks, his mind unusually hazy. "What?"
"The person who's triggering my constant ruts is you," Louis clarifies through gritted teeth. "It's your irregular cycle that keeps me in a rut. No wonder I’ve felt so drawn to you."
Harry squirms. "That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You’ve been aware of it?”
Even though Louis’ tone is not heated in any way, there’s still a sprinkle of disappointment, and it makes Harry’s omega feel miserable. Guilt ripples through his body, so he hunches his shoulders the slightest bit. “I've… I've been more or less in heat for the past week, so I went to see a doctor and she… she suggested I might have met my truebond and am constantly exposed to their presence. That’s why my heat won’t go away."
"And that’s why you’re two seconds away from presenting to me right now?"
Harry feels his face flare, from anger and embarrassment, because it's true but Louis is not allowed to know it, let alone mention it out loud. Harry clenches his jaw. "You're thinking very highly of yourself."
"Are you denying it?" Louis asks.
"No," Harry grumbles, crossing his arms. "But that’s only because my omega's true mate is you. Or so I suspect. My omega has bonded to you. I’m in heat, you’re in a rut, our wolves are bonded, so of course I want to present to you. Doesn’t mean I will. It’s not exactly rocket science.”
Louis goes entirely quiet for several seconds, and Harry’s almost endeared by the way his face flushes beet red at Harry’s straightforwardness. It’s about time he’s able to clap back at Louis and make him squirm for once.
Louis runs his hand down his face, and thanks to the intensified instincts and senses due to his heat, Harry can hear the way his facial hair roughly glides against his palm. It must be perfectly prickly and Harry wants it between his thighs.
Louis drops his hand and speaks up, "But… How– I mean. Why?"
"I don't know, okay?” Harry almost cries out. “I could feel it on my first day here and I know it doesn't make sense because we had never even talked but that’s what happened.”
Louis goes quiet again, obviously just trying to process what he's hearing. Every quiet second is agonizing, making Harry feel worse and worse about the whole situation. Even though he knows it wasn’t conscious on his part, he still feels bad for bonding with one of his students.
Harry thinks back to the time he was still in college, which was not too long ago, and if one of his professors had bonded to him, he would feel a bit driven into a corner.
Even if said professor had been nice.
He takes a deep breath before speaking, “Look, Louis… I know how this sounds. But I’m not, like, trying to take advantage of you or anything. I hope you understand that this was out of my hands. My wolf’s just… stubborn and stupid, I guess.”
“It’s not like you’re the only one in it,” Louis points out with a quiet chuckle. “Your omega didn’t just bond to my alpha, I’m pretty sure my alpha was very willing to be a part of it too. I’m sure you don’t have any ill intentions, you don’t have to reassure me about it. Besides, don't they say truebonding is not entirely random? Our wolves must know more than we do."
Harry fiddles with his rings, "I guess. It’s just… If this gets out– I don’t wanna quit my job, I really like it here.”
“You don’t have to quit your job because of it, I’m sure. I mean, could they really punish you for something that was out of your hands? But I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Sheepishly, Harry glances at Louis under his brows. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
“But aren’t you, like…bothered by it? Or feel like you've been driven into a corner?"
Louis shakes his head. “Like I said, my alpha is just as drawn to your omega as it is to my alpha. Truebonds are much like soulmates, I believe, so I don’t think we could have avoided this. Besides, you do have very cute dimples and a killer smile, so I gotta say my alpha hit the jackpot."
“What did I tell you about telling me anything about my dimples?” Harry asks, to which Louis just grins.
“Right. I wasn't supposed to call them cute. I’m only allowed to talk about sporting boners because that’s less inappropriate. This truebond actually explains why a gust of wind has been enough to stimulate me.”
Harry snorts. He can relate to the feeling, though he hasn’t even needed wind to feel stimulated.
“You know… This also explains why I have been able to smell your pussy every fucking day, then,” Louis says thoughtfully, his eyes squinted and lips pursed. “From literally across campus. Was worried something was wrong with my nose."
Harry nearly chokes on his own tongue. Funny how Louis didn’t think there was something off with Harry but instead worried his own nose is unnaturally sensitive. Harry tugs on his jumper to allow some air in to cool his tacky skin. "Don't talk like that."
"Sorry,” Louis says, all nonchalant, but in his defense, he seems to be deep in his thoughts. “That's why I can't knot. It's because you've been right there and in heat and my alpha has refused to waste a load. It should only be inside you."
Harry could cry. He’s pretty sure he will actually cry as soon as Louis leaves his office.
His omega is craving for that load. Just hearing Louis talking about it makes him wetter, and judging by the way Louis' nostrils flare, he's not oblivious to the effect it has on him.
Squeezing his thighs together, Harry whimpers. " Stop talking like that, you're only making it worse."
Groaning, Louis throws his head back and runs both hands down his face this time. "You're right. I need to leave. Your scent is driving me crazy. Not crazy as in 'I need to mount you right now' in case you're wondering." Slowly, he raises his head back up and drops his hands down, locking his eyes with Harry in a way that has Harry squirming on his chair. "It's just that… It's not ending. My rut's not ending when you're near me and my dick is burning and I can't stand being near you and your scent when I can't–" Louis stops abruptly, and just shakes his head.
Harry has always been the nurturing kind, the person who’d like to take people’s pains and discomforts away and getting upset when he can’t. It doesn’t even compare to the way his omega is feeling right now when it’s not allowed to soothe and tend to its obviously distressed alpha.
Defeated, Harry whispers, “I’m sorry.”
It’s likely Louis doesn’t even hear his apology because he just gets up from the chair, not acknowledging it in any way. Harry's eyes immediately drop down to his crotch, and he doesn’t miss the way his trackies are stretched tight over his bulge.
Harry's legs fall open on their own accord as a blatant invitation. Louis wasn't wrong when he said it's not exactly unnoticeable.
It's perfectly noticeable. And Harry wants it.
Harry doesn't even register Louis circling around the desk before he's standing between Harry's knees, tucking a curl behind his ear.
Harry almost expects himself to snarl at the sudden contact, but he finds himself preening, and he can see Louis' mouth curl into a smile. "Instincts are just a poor excuse to explain away bad behavior. I wasn't raised like that. I could never hurt anyone. I would rather chop my knot off if I had to."
Harry knows it's a joke, but his omega still gets unnecessarily stressed, and he's not able to help the protesting grumble that vibrates in his throat. It makes Louis chuckle, "I won't. But if I had to choose, I would."
"Don't have to choose."
Louis wrinkles his nose. "I might. Because it's getting rather painful and we both know I’m not going to, you know… fuck you."
Harry’s entire body shivers, his own heartbeat so loud in his ears that he doesn’t even hear the way he keens. "You could- We could-" Harry stutters, toying with the hem of Louis' jumper, "Maybe it would end for both of us if we did."
Harry can see Louis' dick twitching at his words under the restraints of his trousers, and it's hypnotic enough to keep him staring. His mouth is practically salivating, and he’s drugged by the heady scent of nothing but raw pheromones.
"Harry–"
'You're right, it's wrong!" Harry rushes to add, breaking the trance, and hides behind his palms, both because he’s embarrassed by his sudden inability to stay rational and because it stops him from ogling something he can’t have. "I'm sorry. I'm your professor, I shouldn't… I'm so sorry. Forget what I said. I’m gross, I’m so sorry.”
"You're not gross, you're everything but."
Harry doesn't listen. He is gross; he's making moves on his student.
"Do you really think it would stop?" Louis asks after a long moment of silence.
Harry lowers his hands only enough to reveal his eyes, and looks up at Louis in what he hopes is a warning. “Don’t even… We can’t.”
“But hypothetically?”
Harry shrugs. Then nods. Then shrugs again. “I don't know. It might. Or might not. I don’t know.” He goes back hiding behind his palms. “Anyway, it’s wrong and we can’t do it so it’s not like we’re finding out.”
“It’s your call,” Louis whispers, ducking down to kiss Harry’s head and for a fraction of a second, every shred of tension leaves Harry’s body, and it’s replaced by nothing but bliss. His omega calms instantly, and his entire body goes a little pliant.
However, it’s gone too soon since Louis pulls away before he can even properly enjoy the moment of peace. “But I really need to get away from you, I’m sorry. I just can’t be near you.”
Feeling defeated, a quiet whine escapes Harry’s throat, and he grabs the front of Louis’ jumper before he can slither too far away. “But…”
“Harry,” Louis says and grabs both of Harry’s hands, and the contact sends a strong zap down Harry’s spine. He forces himself to look up, shivering again when he meets Louis’ dark eyes. “Look. If you want to fuck, I’m down. I’m not even going to lie, just say it and I will. You’re pretty and hot and older and that’s hot. I’m only human. Apparently you’re also my omega, so… But if you don’t want to, then you have to let me go because I can barely stand straight without hurting right now, the pressure is so bad.”
Harry strongly believes if he didn’t let Louis get so close to him like this, it would be easier to let him walk away. He really doesn’t want him to walk away, and he’s standing between two fires. “But if it gets out… I’m going to get fired. My career would be tainted forever and I couldn’t– I can’t risk it. Plus, I’m in a position much higher than you, I couldn’t… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Like I said, it’s your call,” Louis says with a soft and easy smile, and for a second, everything’s good in the world again.
“Yeah,” Harry whispers as he nods, agreeing, though he’s not quite sure what he agrees with.
“So… Are you going to let me go or…?”
Harry grows aware of the tight grip he still has on Louis’ jumper, and he quickly withdraws both of his hands, pinning them between his own knees to keep them from wandering. For a moment, Louis seems to be pondering whether to kiss the top of his head again or not, but eventually decides against it, and all but jolts away from Harry.
He grabs his bag from the floor and backs away, closing his eyes and bending his head back. “Unsexy things, unsexy things…” he chants to himself, but Harry can easily hear it.
Harry shifts on his chair, shuddering at the relieving pressure it gives to his cunt. With that, Louis' head all but snaps up, his eyes prying into Harry again.
"Sorry?" Harry offers, going completely still. "You deserve a medal for staying this composed."
"I don't think I deserve a medal for not jumping on someone," Louis grits out and doubles over, releasing a pained breath. He grips his thigh with his free hand, quietly groaning, "Ice bath is what I deserve."
Harry’s devastated seeing him so uncomfortable, especially after Dr. Jones reassured him his alpha should be more or less fine. He clears his throat quietly. “Uhm. You can… I don’t mind if you adjust it before you leave. You don’t have to go out with… that."
He doesn’t need to say it twice; Louis’ hand dives into his trousers right away, and while he just tucks it under the waistband of his trousers, Harry imagines he can see him giving it a few, subtle strokes in the process.
Standing back straight, Louis pulls his hand out, and Harry meets his eyes again. Miserable is not even enough to cover the look in Louis’ eyes; he looks torn and devastated, even though he tries his best to smile it away. “I’ll see you after the worst peak passes. Fail me if you need to, I’ll take the same course next year with someone else.”
When Louis’ hand grabs the handle of Harry’s office door, every possible scenario flashes through Harry’s head in just a few seconds, from best to worst. Before he can stop himself, he’s jolting up from his chair, “Louis, wait."
Louis is tight-lipped as he turns around. “Harry, I really need to get a hand on my dick before it explodes, so unless it's urgent …"
“Put it in me instead.”
Louis blinks. “What?”
“No one needs to know. Right?”
Slowly, Louis nods. “Right.”
“If you… Do you want to?”
Louis pretty much laughs. "To put my dick in you? Love, I think that's quite obvious."
“Do it, then." God, what is he doing? " It’ll help us both. But then it’s over — nothing else will ever happen.”
Louis nods feverishly as he beelines back to Harry and grabs his hips, pulling him flush against his own body.
Harry sighs in content when he feels Louis' dick press to his tummy, and he tries to rub himself against it even more.
Louis drags his slightly cold nose across the side of Harry's neck. "Are you sure? Are you entirely aware of what you’re doing? Because nothing is sexier than conscious consent.”
Harry nods, grabbing the front of Louis' shirt. "Fully aware and cooperating. Now fuck me, yeah?”
No further words are needed. Louis mauls him around and Harry can feel the hard press of his cock against him, nestled between his cheeks now. He wriggles his hips, tearing a hungry groan out of Louis' throat which makes him whimper in submission.
Flushing beet red, Harry claps his hand over his own mouth. He's not whimpering for an alpha, even if it's Louis.
"Omega…" Louis murmurs wetly into his ear, his stubble intensifying the sensation. "Let me hear you. Wanna hear how you keen for me." Louis' hand dives into his trousers easily to cup his hard cock and Harry bucks up into his touch, chasing for the long-needed relief. He immediately misses the press of Louis' cock against his ass, though.
Like sensing his dilemma, Louis yanks him flush against his crotch and rubs his cock through the sheer fabric of his underwear, stimulating him from both sides until Harry’s overwhelmed by it.
"Fuck me," Harry hisses while trying to shimmy down his own trousers, but it quickly turns into a needy chant. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me… Please."
Louis yanks his trousers even lower and as soon as they pool around his ankles, Louis bends him over the desk. There's no softness, no gentleness to his touch, it's all just palpable lust and need, driven by instincts and built up frustration.
Harry prays to the universe that no one is going to barge in. He has faith that most professors have left work already and maybe no other student needs to talk to him so late in the evening.
"God, you’re so wet," Louis whispers behind him, almost in awe, as his fingers brush against his cunt. " Fuck."
Everything about this is against every moral Harry has ever had but it feels so good to finally give his omega what it wants and needs, and it's so hard to think clearly when Louis is touching him the way he is.
Whimpering quietly, Harry shakes his hips, hoping to get his point across, but Louis only probes him with two fingertips, sliding them between his folds to spread his slick around. While he’s all but keening from such a simple touch, it’s not enough, it’s not what he’s craving.
Gritting his teeth, Harry whips his head back. "Thought you were desperate."
"Just making sure you're slick enough for me. Desperation is not worth hurting you."
Harry glares at him. "I've been like Niagara Falls for a week. I'm plenty slick, just fuckin' shove your dick in my cunt and take it. "
Really classy, Harry.
With a shuddering breath, Louis' fingers disappear but they’re quickly replaced by the heavy press of his bare cock. Keening, Harry pushes back into it, wriggling his hips in a suggestive manner.
Louis responds to his seductive wriggles with firm grinds, his cock nestled between Harry’s folds. Harry tries so hard to shift in a way that would make him finally slip into him but Louis just tuts, hand firm on his hip. "Are you on birth control?"
“Yes ,” Harry grumbles under his breath, which only makes Louis chuckle.
"What was that?"
" Yes."
"Just wanted to make sure," Louis says in a surprisingly soft tone considering the circumstances “Not up to having babies quite yet."
Harry whines, pushing his hips back again. He can’t even remember the last time he was this blatant in his desires, but Louis makes him want so much it’s blinding him. He can feel the blunt head of Louis’ cock catch on his entrance but it slides off before it can go in, skin wet and slippery with his slick.
Louis cups both of his hips, stroking the skin with his thumbs. "But you are, huh?"
"No, I- Not really, not yet, but… I just want-" Harry stutters, hearing Louis hum like he understands.
"You want to imagine?"
Harry whimpers as he nods, way past the point of being embarrassed.
"I see,” Louis says, with an obvious strain in his voice; Harry can tell all of his words are spat through gritted teeth. His grip on Harry’s hips turns bruising and possessive as he’s pressing Harry against the sharp edge of the desk in order to grind against him and it hurts, but Harry’s basking in it.
“Omega…” Louis hisses, dipping his thumbs between Harry’s cheeks and pressing his cunt so open Harry would get flustered if he wasn’t so desperate. “ Fuck. Look at that hungry pussy already twitching.“
Harry’s just about to tell Louis he’s not going to start begging and he can leave the office if he’s unable to deliver what he wants, but then Louis all but slams his cock into Harry. Their hips smack together in an obscene but such a satisfying way, and all his words die out.
Harry doesn’t have to beg for more; as soon as Louis gets a taste of what Harry feels like around him, he gets more persistent in his moves, driving his cock into Harry in earnest and pouring all that built up frustration into it.
Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head from the sheer bliss of being so satisfyingly filled. It’s been so long… He was patient and strong for such a long week, and finally there’s a cock in him. Not just any cock but Louis’; his truebond’s cock. It can’t get much better than that.
He knows it’s wrong, knows they shouldn’t be doing any of this, but God why does it have to feel so right? Louis just fits. In more ways than one. His cock splits Harry open in a way that’s oh-so-perfectly painful and pleasurable.
Louis’ fingers find the roots of Harry’s hair and he curls them against Harry’s scalp before running them through the sweaty locks. They get tangled somewhere, and the smallest tug makes Harry moan and throw his head back, asking for more of something he can't even comprehend.
Lucky for him, Louis seems to get the hint, and he cards his hand through Harry’s hair again, before softly tugging near the roots to pull yet another quiet moan out of Harry’s throat.
He does it again, a tad harder, and Harry has to bite his lip to keep any louder sounds in. Gently scratching his scalp as if to compensate for the mild discomfort, Louis asks, “Like that? Having your hair pulled?”
Harry nods feverishly, panting out a quiet, “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Louis tugs again, hard enough for Harry to whip his head back with it. He feels Louis lean against his back, covering his body with the heat of his own, and Harry could preen from the joy such close proximity gives him. Even when there’s no skin on skin contact, except for their lower halves.
Keeping Harry’s head back with a strong grip on his hair, Louis sucks on the junction of Harry’s neck and shoulder, right over where the bonding mark would go. He works his hips ruthlessly, his cock dragging against Harry’s spot at an unforgiving pace, nearly reducing Harry to blissed-out tears.
The tremble it sets Harry’s body in, makes his knees buckle, and Louis’ suckling turns to quiet giggles. He grabs Harry’s hips with both hands, curling his fingers under his tummy for extra support. “Can you stay up?”
“Yeah,” Harry whimpers, grasping onto the edges of the desk to keep himself steady as his body jolts due to the urgency in Louis’ thrusts. “Don’t slow down, don’t stop, just– Keep going, I’m close.”
He thought it was impossible for Louis to go any harder, but Harry’s words seem to rile him up even more. The legs of the desk screech against the floor in the rhythm of his’ hips, and Harry will be surprised if the remaining people in the building don’t hear it.
Louis bites on Harry’s shoulder as his hips snap sharply against Harry for the last time before his cock flexes inside of Harry, filling him up in more ways than one. Harry squirms from feeling Louis’ load pumping into him in steady, long pulses, while his knot expands around the base of his cock, locking it all in.
Harry moans from sheer relief his omega feels.
Louis unlatches his teeth and mouths on the abused skin instead, sliding a hand further under Harry to grasp his rigid cock. It’s a little off, so Harry drapes his own fist over Louis’ fingers, guiding him to touch him the way he desires. Paying most attention to the wet head, it only takes a couple of strokes before Harry’s tensing up from his orgasm.
His body twitches and his knees give in when he comes, so he grasps onto the desk for dear life. With every contraction of his cunt, Louis feels even bigger inside of him.
“ Fuck,” Louis hisses behind him, letting go of Harrys cock. Instead he further spreads the entrance of Harry’s pussy with both of his thumbs. “Can feel you swallowing it all up. Fuck, you feel good. You don’t know the pain I've been through trying to–”
"The pain you've been through?” Harry squeaks between his gasps and moans. “I've been in heat for a week ."
"Last week you said you have easy heats!"
"Easy as in I don't lose my awareness or want to present to every–” Harry whips his head around to see Louis. “Are you still coming!?"
“Sorry,” Louis chuckles, lazy and blissed out, moving his hands on Harry’s hips again and massaging soothing circles with his thumbs. Harry doesn’t know why, but it makes him even more pliant, and he lets himself slump down against his desk.
When Louis begins to rub his lower back, his eyes flutter shut, a strong rush of nothing but joy spreading through his veins. He brings his forearms under his head to get a little more comfortable on the hard surface.
After a while, Louis talks again, and Harry can hear the smile in his voice. “Are you purring?”
“No!” Harry insists as he jolts up, hissing when Louis’ knot tugs on his entrance.
“You’re purring,” Louis says softly, only rubbing Harry’s back more firmly, and it takes everything in Harry not to try to raise his pelvis up towards the contact like a damn cat.
“‘m not,” Harry murmurs.
“Is it so bad if you are?” Louis asks. “You’re relaxed and happy. You don’t have to fight against it, it makes my alpha very happy to hear.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry slumps back down on the desk and lets his body do whatever it does. Stupid omega traits, he thinks to himself when he feels the familiar vibrations in his chest. The last thing he expected to do was to start purring for Louis.
Eventually, Louis' knot goes down and his dick slips out, along with some of his cum. Harry barely has time to register the loss when he already feels something rougher against him; Louis gently wiping him down with something, probably a paper towel. Harry has piled a ton on his desk over the past week because he couldn’t seem to stop sweating.
Now that the moment is gone, Harry feels shy and exposed in all the wrong ways, especially when Louis is so considerately cleaning him up. As soon as Harry spots Louis tossing the paper towel in the trash from the corner of his eye, he ducks down to pull his underwear and trousers back up.
He cringes at the wetness he feels in them, and it's only about to get worse when some of Louis' cum inevitably leaks out throughout the rest of the night.
"No one will hear about this," Harry mutters as he zips up and turns around to face Louis, " No one."
"That's what we agreed," Louis smiles easily, as if he isn't currently wiping his cock right in front of him like it’s the most normal thing in the world right now. Why is he not freaking out at all?
“Now, go,” Harry commands, again surprised by the lack of all alpha-like reactions from Louis. Instead, he only gets a light-hearted chuckle.
“Alright, alright, at least let me put my dick away first,” Louis says, tossing another paper towel in the trash and finally tucking himself back in his trousers.
“And don’t even think of missing the practicum now.”
Louis raises his hands in a surrendering manner. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
ΩΩΩ
Harry doesn’t like-like Louis.
No. He likes him because he’s a good student and seems well-mannered most of the time. He likes him because of the whole truebond thing, obviously. But he doesn’t like-like him. Not like that.
Harry's just too weak.
His heat doesn't pass after just one knot, and neither does Louis' rut. If anything, Harry's craving for it even more, and just seeing Louis is enough to make him slick.
Which on the other hand makes Louis' life a little miserable every time.
Their little hook-ups only become a regular thing because of the truebond and it’ll only be a regular thing for the rest of Harry’s heat and Louis' rut.
After that, it’ll end.
Harry’s sure it will. He makes sure it will.
Until that, he lets himself, his omega, feel perfectly content getting railed in his office, the bathrooms in the basement floor nobody ever uses, even in Louis’ dorm, in the backseat of Harry’s car…
He blames it on the silly truebond.
Oh, God, Harry's so going to get fired. But it's so hard to care when Louis' cock is wetly driving into him, filling the tight space of the car with an obscene squelching sound and their breathy moans.
The tight space around them is humid and hot, their panting painting the windows with fog. Harry's glad he decided to park on the side of the least busiest road or else everyone would see him having his very own Titanic moment.
He's sure the whole car jolts with the power of Louis' last thrusts. Harry’s head thuds against the door of the backseat, and for a second he curses them for not having the patience to fold the seats for more room, but the pain subsides as soon as Louis melts against him. He buries his nose to Harry’s neck to scent him while his cock’s pulsing inside of Harry.
Being scented always manages to make Harry’s eyes flutter and his toes curl with bliss.
Knowing that the contractions of his own orgasm suck everything in even deeper, Harry slips a hand between them. It only takes a few circles around the head of his cock to have his body shaking with pleasure, and he locks his legs around Louis’ hips to keep him right where he is.
This is where he’s content. Underneath Louis, being scented, and feeling pulse after pulse filling him up.
When the peak of the haze subsides, Harry can’t resist the urge to press his open palm against the damp window. "Always wanted to have a Titanic moment.”
Chuckling, Louis raises his head to see the handprint. “Is that why you invited me for a car fuck?”
Grinning, Harry cranes his neck to see as he lets his hand fall from the window, brushing his fingers against the fog to make it as identical to the movie as possible. “Maybe.”
“Not that I don't love sweaty tightspace fucks and Titanic moments but… If you let me visit your place, it would have spared us both the neck strains and body bumps,” Louis says, a little quietly, but it’s still enough for Harry’s heart to skip a beat. Having Louis visit his place would make things so… serious. Even if it would have just been for the rest of their heat and rut.
“I offered to ride you,” Harry points out. “Would have been more comfortable.”
“For me, maybe. But you would have gotten more head bumps than now. You’re quite tall, you know..”
Fair point.
“We could have folded the backseats to get more room, you just didn’t want to wait,” Harry says, and Louis cocks his eyebrow at him. Face flushing, Harry adds a grumpy, “Okay, I didn’t want to wait...”
That was the original plan — to fold the backseats down and roll the front seats forward as far as they would go. But as soon as Harry picked Louis up from one of the sideroads, he knew he wouldn’t have the patience to go through with it. As soon as he had parked, he was already climbing over the gearshift and Louis suggested they take it to the backseat.
“We still have your bed when your roommate’s gone, though.”
“Yeah, in a den that reeks of a wet dog 24/7. Plus, sneaking you in is always a risk in itself.”
"Doesn't smell like a wet dog," Harry murmurs, his brows pinched to an almost insulted frown, completely ignoring the other part of Louis’ sentence. "I like how it smells. I hate to admit it, but alphas smell good when they’re all pheromone-y and–" Louis growls and rolls Harry’s shirt up to expose his nipples, and lowers down to bite one of them. Squeaking, Harry tugs on his hair to pull him off. "Okay, okay, you smell good when you’re all pheromone-y. Jesus."
He’s not lying.
He likes fucking in Louis’ bed because everything around him smells like him. He can barely smell his roommate when his face is smushed to Louis’ pillow, and Louis is dripping with pheromones behind him.
Louis raises his head again, beaming, and even though they've been having sex for days now, Harry still gets flustered when he sees Louis' face so up close. Especially when his cheeks are sex-flushed and beautifully shiny from sweat. "But why can't I visit your place?" he asks again.
Harry sighs, cursing the fact that they’re very much physically stuck together at the moment and he can’t escape this uncomfortable conversation. He doesn’t want to get too soft with Louis, but he can’t help but thumb his cheek when he’s ogling at him with those stupidly blue eyes. Apologetically, he says, “Because that's when things would become very complicated."
Louis drops his head into the crook of Harry's neck again, nuzzling Harry’s scent gland. It’s one thing Harry has been allowing Louis to do because it calms them both, and he has learned Louis does it not only when he orgasms, but also when he’s in any way stressed.
"Okay,” Louis murmurs. “Is there anything that doesn't make things complicated?"
"Your dick in any of my holes."
Louis snorts. "And they say romance is dead."
Well, there’s not exactly any romance in this , Harry wants to point out, but for some reason he doesn’t want to say it out loud. Louis looks strangely fragile all of a sudden.
Harry doesn’t know how to feel about it.
When Louis raises his head again, he leans in for a kiss, but Harry turns his head so the smooch lands on his cheek instead. “Louis–”
“I can’t kiss you either?”
"We're fucking, Louis," Harry says, in a firmer tone, and turns his head back, causing their noses to brush against each other. Louis' hot breath is right there, caressing his bitten lips, and Harry really, really wants to kiss him but knowing himself, it would only make things worse.
Louis hasn’t even tried to kiss him before, mostly because their fucks have been rushed and most of the time Louis has taken him from behind. Missionary was a whole new experience, and felt unnecessarily intimate for the nature of their situation. Harry’s not surprised Louis tried to go for a kiss.
"And? It's just kissing."
"It's not just kissing,” Harry insists.
Kisses are their own secret language. A language only the two of you speak, the one that both hides and reveals so many emotions. There’s no other time when someone’s face is so close to yours, no other opportunity to inspect someone so closely. You share the taste and the air through the most vulnerable part of your body.
Under the right circumstances, it’s heavenly. It’s the first cup of coffee in the morning that makes you see the light in the world again. It’s the fluffiest duvet you own on a cold autumn night. It’s the blissful popsicle on the hottest summer afternoon.
It’s everything good in the world with the right person, and Harry loves it so much. He would argue that a way into his heart is not through his stomach but his mouth. Harry knows he'd get addicted to Louis’ kisses.
It wouldn’t end well for either of them. They shouldn’t, they can’t, get too attached.
"Well, I'm finally coming out of my rut, so…" Louis says, his voice edged with a gloom that makes Harry's heart sink. "Probably not going to do this again, then?"
"I don't think it would be a good idea."
"Right.” Louis leans back into Harry’s neck to nuzzle his scent gland. “Is it cool if I stay right here for a while, then? While I still can"
Carding his fingers through Louis' hair, Harry nods, whispering, "Yeah."
Unexplainable grief fills Harry’s heart when Louis eventually pulls out. He knows it’s not going to happen again, and he can already feel his omega grieving for the loss.
He spends the rest of the night curled in his nest he never got to show to his alpha, and tries not to let the heartache kill him. He wishes he would have at least asked for a single beanie from Louis to make his nest complete.
ΩΩΩ
Staying away from Louis turns out to be a lot harder than Harry anticipated. Even when his heat is over and Louis is no longer in a rut, Harry can't tear his eyes off of Louis during classes. His stomach flutters every time he catches Louis looking back at him, and he always stumbles on his words.
It always makes Louis smile, though he seems a lot shyer than before. The once so smug smirk is replaced by nervous fringe fixing and a sheepish smile that doesn’t reach his ears. It's so endearing for some reason, and doesn’t make focusing any easier for Harry.
On top of that, it’s also a little heartbreaking. Harry never meant to take the smile off his face.
For four days Louis leaves the classroom after dismissing without saying another word to Harry. Harry should be thankful for the space he's giving him, but he can't help feeling strangely upset.
It's like Louis is ignoring him, and those stolen glances during classes do nothing to shake the feeling. Harry's omega grows restless over it, and he wants to plop on Louis' lap just to get his attention and yell at him that he's right here. Pay attention to me.
Which would be stupid.
He’s the one who said they shouldn’t see each other again. He still can’t help but feel deprived of attention. His alpha’s attention. Louis’ attention.
It's all Harry can think about outside of his classes. Whether he’s just at home or seeing friends, his mind always seems to be wandering to Louis. He feels terrible for letting his sister ramble on about her new boyfriend for a good half an hour and then not remembering any of the things she said afterwards.
Finally, on Friday, Louis is packing his stuff into his bag rather slowly while everyone else is leaving the classroom. It makes Harry a little hopeful, though he’s not exactly sure what he’s expecting, considering they agreed not to see each other again, and to stay as far away from each other as they possibly can to weaken the bond.
Louis is taking his sweet time, and Harry’s two seconds away from leaving himself, because he needs to prepare for his next class before he’s off for the weekend. But he can sense Louis’ nervousness, his uncertainty, which can only mean he has something important yet nerve wracking to say to Harry, so Harry gives him some time.
After what seems like eternity, Louis finally steps in front of Harry’s desk, his chest puffed in a way that makes Harry think he’s holding in a big breath.
"Do you wanna see me again?" He asks, his voice a tad squeaky, chest deflating a little with each word.
He's talking to me again. He's noticing me again. He actually acknowledges my existence.
Harry sighs, giving Louis an apologetic smile. "I believe we agreed not to."
Louis’ whole body seems to deflate with that. "Yeah, but… I didn’t ask that. I asked, ‘Do you want to?’”
Of course he doesn’t–
Does he? Does he want to bury his nose to Louis’ neck and give his scent gland gentle kitten licks, just to subtly say mine. Does he want Louis to nibble his neck in turn?
For reasons unbeknownst to him, he wants it even more than before. Before, it was all fuck me and breed me but now it’s suddenly pretend to bite my neck until I laugh and push you away and then cuddle me. Preferably for several hours straight.
“I… No?” Harry averts Louis’ eyes, pulling his glasses off his head and securing them inside their case.
“Say it to me, then,” Louis stresses. “Now that it’s over, the peak of our cycles, just say it . I swear I’ll leave you alone. But I need to know if I’m the only one tossing and turning every night because I can't get you off my mind even when my rut’s over."
He's…
Louis can’t sleep because he’s thinking of Harry?
He's definitely not the only one who can’t sleep because his mind is so occupied. But Harry doesn't want Louis to use that knowledge against him in any way, under any circumstances, so he doesn’t want to say it out loud.
“Even if you say I’m not the only one,” Louis says quietly, like he’s reading Harry’s mind. He probably is. “I will still leave you alone if you want me to, I just… I miss you.”
Harry's sure his heart drops out of his ass. Just tell him you miss him too, you twat.
"I'm not going to be a student forever," Louis adds when Harry says nothing. "It's just another year and a half."
"I think you're forgetting that a year and a half is quite a long time."
"It's even longer if I can't see you."
Oh.
"Or do you think I'm too young?"
"No, I–"
"Our wolves share one heart," Louis points out, with more fire in his eyes. "They know we'd be good together."
"They think we might be good together."
"Well. One can't know without finding out, right? I mean the sex was good. It was amazing, to be honest."
Yeah, it was. Might have been the best heat sex Harry has ever had, and just thinking about it makes Harry wet. But he's not exactly hard to please during his heats, either. Other times are different.
“Outside of our heat and rut it might not be that good," Harry says then.
Louis blinks hard. “Wow. You sure know how to amp up a guy’s confidence.”
Harry covers his mouth as he giggles. “I didn’t–! I’m sorry. It wasn’t a jab at you. I’m just saying it might be different because we're not all hormone-y. Sometimes people just aren't compatible sexually."
“Mm. Maybe we should prove to our wolves that it might not be worth it then,” Louis says, his tone a tad lower now, and Harry can sense the danger in it.
“Oh, no, don't even try that," Harry warns with a small smile, dropping the case of his glasses in his bag. "You're not slick."
"You are a little."
Harry gasps, blush rising on his cheeks. "Louis!"
Louis grins, clearly feeling triumph because of Harry's reaction, since there's a sprinkle of that familiar smugness in his smile. "Sorry. Sensitive nose and all that."
"You're a persistent one, aren't you?"
"Only until you push me away," Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. "Tell me to fuck off and I will."
"I can't do that."
"Okay, do it kindly, then."
"I can't do that either," Harry finally admits, looking down at his fingers and fiddling with his rings. He's not ready to tell Louis he's been curled in his nest every night ever since they stopped seeing each other, but he doesn't want Louis to give up.
Louis looks shocked by his response. Shocked and pleased, and a little nervous even.
"Oh. Okay. Well... There’s a party at the frat house tonight, so plenty of people will be heading there. My roommate’s also gone at least until Sunday so the corridors should be calmer. If you’re still willing to step into our reeking den… we could meet up."
“Doesn’t reek,” Harry murmurs with a pout.
“Alright. Then I’ll sneak you in there if you want,” Louis says with a smile. “Meet me outside at 6.30 pm, yeah? At our usual spot?"
What the hell are they doing?
Harry’s voice comes off annoyingly squeaky as he says, “Okay.”
ΩΩΩ
Harry's corrupted. Utterly and thoroughly corrupted, and he deserves to have his teaching license revoked. When he sneaked out of Louis' dorm last week, he swore he'd never have to do it again.
As soon as Louis locks the door of the suite behind them, Harry's stomach goes into knots. It's so different now, without his heat instinctively guiding him to just spread his legs or bend over.
Which… Okay. The desire is still there. It’s Louis after all, and he happens to be unfairly hot. But it’s still different, it’s more like I just want you as close to me as physically possible rather than put your babies in me.
Louis' body language is so different too; more stiff and more nervous, like he's holding in every breath he takes. Harry’s worried he might run out of oxygen, but he’s glad he’s not the only one nervous.
Louis shoves his hands in his back pockets and gives Harry a tense smile. “So…”
“So,” Harry parrots while discarding his beanie and sunglasses, along with his jacket, and tossing them by Louis’ bed. It just adds to the mess on the floor, so it doesn't feel like he's ruining the tidiness.
Louis shares a suite with three roommates, two students in each bedroom, and one shared living area and bathroom. Yes, Harry snooped when they were all gone the last time he visited the dorm.
It looks very much like an 18 to 20 year olds' living space. In Louis' room there are clothes piled on each surface, books scattered around, some empty energy drink cans and takeaway coffee cups on the work desks, and… beer bottles?
Harry grabs one, and turns around to face Louis with a cocked eyebrow. "You know this is against the rules, right? You're not 21, either."
" You are not allowed to talk to me about rules, Mr. I'm-fucking-my-student."
Touché.
"Fine," Harry says and puts the bottle back. "I didn't see anything."
"They're my roommate's anyway, he had a few before he went to the party. I'm a good boy, you see, I don’t drink in dorms."
Everything on Louis’ face tells Harry otherwise, from the overly innocent looking smile to the bat of his ridiculously long eyelashes. Harry snorts quietly, turning back to the desk and eyeing the stickers on Louis’ laptop. One of them says ‘Don’t give up on your dreams — Keep sleeping’, and Harry bites back a smile.
A rainbow colored lighter catches his attention. He lifts it up, turning around to see Louis, “Do you smoke in here?”
Louis scoffs. “Pffft. Of course not. Good boys don’t smoke.”
“Good boys also don’t stick their dicks in their professors, so I’m a little skeptical of your virtuosity,” Harry teases and puts the lighter back in its place.
He jumps the slightest bit when he feels Louis press up against his back, his arms coming around Harry’s waist, “Stop snooping in my stuff and finding evidence to get me expelled.”
Harry cranes his neck to see over his shoulder. “You could get expelled from getting involved with me. I hope you know that.”
“I do. But I consider that worth the risk.”
“Don’t say that,” Harry murmurs, in all his seriousness. “It’s not worth ruining your future for.”
“Your future’s on the stake as well, so why are you here then?” Louis asks.
Now, that’s a question.
Why is he here?
Why is he here risking everything he has achieved?
“Because staying away would make me more miserable,” Harry admits quietly. “If it wasn’t for my nest, I would have probably dropped when you weren’t speaking to me.”
Louis squeezes him a little harder. “Mm. I know. I felt it.”
"Oh?" Harry didn't even think of that. Of course Louis knew; bonded alphas can sense their mate’s distress miles apart. “Yet you still stayed away for days,” Harry whispers, and for some reason he feels embarrassment rising in his chest.
He wonders what else Louis is able to sense from afar.
“Because you told me to.”
That’s… Yet another way to Harry’s heart; respect. He squirms around to face Louis, a small smile playing on his lips. “Thanks. For respecting my wishes.”
“Always.”
Louis’ eyes drop to Harry’s lips, and his fingers curl against Harry’s waist, but he doesn’t ask for a kiss, and doesn’t try to initiate one, either. “So…” he says instead, “What kind of… foreplay are you into? If kissing’s off the list for us.”
Right. Foreplay. They didn’t really do that during Harry’s heat, since he was always plenty slick and Louis wasn’t exactly difficult to stimulate, either.
“Well… The usual, I guess. Hand stuff and oral, I guess,” he says as he grabs Louis’ hands, ignoring how such a simple touch sets his stomach on fire. He pulls Louis along until his own legs hit the side of Louis’ bed.
“Hand stuff and oral?” Louis repeats, a soft pink flush rising on his cheeks.
Harry shivers, dropping down on Louis’ bed. He shimmies up until he's comfortably nestled on top of the pillows. “Mm. And you?”
Louis sighs, but it’s tinted with something else than frustration. It sounds a bit shudder-y, and Harry doesn’t miss the way he puffs his cheeks before kneeling on the bed between Harry’s thighs. “The same, I guess..”
“Is everything okay?” Harry asks, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Louis rushes out, shifting Harry’s legs on both sides of his hips and tugging him a bit lower. “I’m not in a rut anymore so I feel like I have no idea what to do with you.”
Smiling softly, Harry tilts his head. “It’s not rocket science though, is it?”
“No, but… It’s different when you’re in a rut. You’re so driven by your alpha that you have no time to worry about anything else.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Harry tries to reassure but it does nothing to ease Louis’ obvious edginess.
“You don’t get it, I’m–” Louis drops his head into the crook of his neck, and Harry happily lets him scent him. The boost of serotonin is instant, and Harry’s chirping within seconds. It makes his eyes flutter, and he cards his fingers through Louis’ hair which feels softer than before. Shower-fresh.
As content as Harry feels being pinned down by Louis’ weight, and having his nose pressed to his neck, Harry pulls himself out of the blissful trance, and taps Louis’ arm. “I need to be at dinner in 90 minutes.”
“Right.”
Louis scrambles up and sits between Harry’s knees, dropping his hands down to undo his trousers, his hands only slightly shaky. Raising his hips, Harry helps him discard them, along with his underwear.
There's so much softness to how Louis handles him now when he's not driven by his rut. So much uncertainty even, and Harry finds it endearing to watch, even though he thinks it’s completely unnecessary.
Louis' entire face flares when Harry pulls his legs back to expose himself, and he averts his eyes, not looking directly at anything that's on display. Harry can't help but chuckle, "Oh, so you’re shy outside of your ruts. You can still look, you know?"
"I know," Louis quietly groans, giving his own cock a little squeeze through his trousers.
"Hey, it was a bit of a haze for me too," Harry reassures with a kind smile. "And being here now feels a bit more nerve-wracking. But it's okay."
“Yeah but I doubt you’re– I just… I had never… you know. Before you. This is kind of my first time.”
Oh.
Oh.
Okay.
So.
Harry quietly clears his throat, slowly bringing his legs down. "Uhm. You mean… You're, like, a virgin?"
"Not anymore. Technically. But I've never done more than exchange a few handjobs outside of my rut with you, so.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So your guess of it not being good outside of my rut and your heat is probably not too far off.”
In the blink of an eye, Harry’s mind goes back to the end of the class. He flinches, closing his eyes. “I really didn’t mean it like that. And I didn’t know you were a… virgin.”
“Well. Yeah. Maybe I should have told you. If you wanna leave now, I get it.”
Something doesn’t just pull on Harry’s heartstrings, his whole heart is being clutched into a powerful grip that leaves him breathless in all the wrong ways. Because now he doesn’t just feel bad for whatever he said earlier, he also has a big urge to comfort Louis in any way he can.
He sighs, gently nudging Louis with the side of his knee. “I’m not leaving, okay? If you still want to do it, I want it too."
“Of course I do, I just… I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me and just stay out of pity. I also didn’t want to not tell you because if, when, I suck, you’ll just think I’m bad at sex.”
When Harry walked back to the campus tonight, he didn’t expect this amount of honesty and feeling to get involved. He definitely didn’t expect this amount of feelings to arise while lying legs spread on Louis’ bed, his cock still on full display.
Harry sighs quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. But it’s your call if you still want to proceed."
Louis’ mouth quirks at that, and he finally looks at Harry under his brows. Something about that look makes Harry’s heart flutter.
“I mean… There’s a hot omega lying with their legs spread on my bed, there’s no chance I don’t want to. And there's the whole truebond thing, too, ” he says, and Harry really thought his excessive blushing would stop once his heat ended, but he can feel warmth spreading over his entire face. Louis softly kisses the side of his knee. “Just don’t expect too much.”
Harry doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he’s glad when Louis peers down between his legs and just brushes his fingers over his cunt. Swallowing heavily, he asks, “Mouth stuff, you say?”
Harry’s legs all but fall open. " Yeah . Or whatever you want, really. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Taking a deep breath, again puffing his cheeks in that stupidly endearing way, Louis shuffles down between his legs. He releases the breath right against Harry’s damp skin, and it’s enough to make him shiver.
“Oh, I do want to… I have a very curious mouth,” Louis says in a dangerously low tone. “Is there anything off limits?”
Face burning at this point, Harry raises his head off the pillow to see Louis' face hovering over his genitals. “If you mean my dick, it’s included in the ‘anything you want’.”
Louis chuckles, his breath brushing Harry’s skin again, and Harry’s whimpering, nearly bucking off the bed to finally get Louis’ mouth on him.
“What about your bum?”
“My– Yeah. All included. Just do what you want.”
“Alright. Just tell me if I’m way off.”
Even though Harry knows what’s about to go down, the first swipe of Louis’ warm, wet tongue over his cunt shocks him. It's just a simple, tentative stroke over the slit, but it wakes every nerve ending on Harry's body.
It's a promise for more.
Grabbing a handful of Louis' hair, he thrusts up against the sinful bliss of his tongue, shuddering a breathy, "Y-yes... That’s good."
Louis hums, repeating the swipe of his tongue but pressing in with more force, pushing between Harry's lips.
He curls his arms around Harry's thighs to press him more open, and teases the tip of his tongue inside Harry's pussy. He gives a few testing flicks on the slickening walls before he pulls away, just to press his face against everything that's on display. He breathes in deep, nuzzling the top of Harry's folds, "Just so you know, I have no idea what I'm doing here," he says, and pulls away to suck a soft kiss on the tip of Harry's dick.
"You're off to a strong start," Harry croaks out, gently tugging Louis' hair. "Keep going."
Louis is enthusiastic, to say the least.
And that's what counts.
He might not find Harry's spot with just one curl of his finger and his mouth isn't always focusing on the most sensitive parts but he's eager.
There's a certain kind of vulnerability in the air, so Harry doesn't want to be too harsh. Instead, he tries to readjust the position of Louis' mouth by shifting his own hips and subtly guiding Louis' head to a desired direction. Sometimes it really works out for his benefit, and whenever he gasps out a moan, Louis gains more confidence.
It's a win-win.
Considering Harry has been on the edge ever since he left his apartment to come back to the campus, it doesn't take much for him to get slick.
It fuels Louis on.
He spreads Harry more open and with gentle sucks on his damp folds and eager licks between them, he laps it all up.
Generally Harry appreciates a more subtle approach but as he established already, Louis is eager . He doesn't stop at Harry's cunt, he makes sure to suckle on the head of his cock too and gives a few testing flicks around Harry's hole as well.
His hips are in continuous motion as he's rutting against the bed, pleased chuffs and sighs rumbling in his throat. The way he gets off on eating Harry out is hot on its own, even if his technique might require some practice.
Harry would be happy to let him practise on him…
When Louis finally pulls away, his face is glistening with Harry's slick, and his fringe is partially stuck on his forehead while the rest is sticking out pretty much everywhere.
Harry bites back a smile, smoothing his fingers through the damp hairs. It makes Louis look up, and the sight of his hooded eyes and swollen lips breaks Harry' skin into goosebumps.
He swallows thickly. "Uhm. Do you want me to, uh, return the favor?"
Louis shakes his head. "Don't need to. That was… really hot for me. Wanna fuck you, yeah?"
"Yeah," Harry squeaks out. "Okay."
Louis is rushing out of the rest of his clothes, and Harry realizes this is the first time he's seeing Louis fully naked. There's no trousers pooled around the ankles or waistbands tucked below the buttocks, there's just skin.
Endless amounts of golden skin, and Harry's clawing at it before he can even realize it.
Louis rolls Harry's shirt up his chest, and Harry gets the hint, pulling the shirt over his head. Louis leans in to kiss both nipples, then looks up sheepishly, "Sorry. You said no kissing. "
"Yeah, on the lips," Harry points out. "Everything else is free estate."
"I already kissed your lips."
" Dork," Harry groans. "Put your dick in me before I change my mind and leave."
Snickering, Louis crowds between his thighs.
Having Louis breathing against his face, his lips, and looking down at him with those dark, aroused eyes, and a small smile, makes Harry shiver.
Harry pulls his knees further back, and shifts his hips to get Louis' cock pressed against his cunt. Feeling it twitch makes Harry keen, which invokes another twitch, and Louis buries his face to his neck, breathing heavily.
"You're so hard," Harry whispers in awe as he reaches down to grab Louis' cock. "Just from eating me out."
"Tasted good, felt good, smelled good…" Louis hisses, and nips the side of Harry's neck.
He rubs the head of Louis' cock between his lips and smears his slick around even more. Usually he loves getting on top of his partner just to rub their dick against his wetness, until they all but lose it and fuck his brains out.
But Louis nudges Harry's hand off. "Stop, you're going to make me– Fuck, I'm so sorry."
Harry frowns. "For wha–"
Before Harry can finish, he gets his answer when he feels the unmistakable warm wetness trickle on his skin.
"Oh."
Suddenly, Louis turns glass-fragile between his thighs, and Harry's scared to clamp him too hard. He's scared to even say anything, worried he might break something if he does.
Louis is panting into his neck, grumbling something incoherent, and Harry doesn't just sense but actually smells his embarrassment; his humiliation.
"Hey, it's alright," Harry finally gets to say. "We've all been there."
The chuckle Louis lets out is self-deprecating. "You’re just saying that."
"No, I’m not, we've all been young. Besides, it's kind of flattering."
Louis says nothing, but he's also reluctant to leave the comfort of Harry's neck. Harry doesn't really mind it, considering he loves being scented as much as Louis loves to scent.
When Louis eventually raises his head, there's still a pink tint on his cheeks, but the worst of the bittersweet smell is gone. "Tell me why do you have to be so fuckin' hot?"
Harry snorts out a laugh. "Beats me."
Louis finally smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his ears. He shuffles back down between Harry's thighs. "Still wanna get you off."
"You don't have to, I can–"
"I want to. It's the least I can do after," he makes a pointed look at the mess of cum on Harry's thighs and tummy, " This."
"Well, I mean…if you want to."
Louis finger-fucks him, using his own cum and Harry's slick as a lube. He licks around the fingers, and Harry's quivering within minutes thinking about their shared taste. Maybe he should have told Louis he doesn’t have the greatest stamina outside of his heats either.
Towards his orgasm, Harry gets even slicker, and Louis pulls his fingers out so he can bury his face in Harry's cunt. Harry keeps his head close by gripping his hair and ruts against his tongue, unabashedly moaning but still trying to be considerate of the surroundings.
His body convulses as his orgasm ripples through his body, accompanied by a strong gush of liquid streaming out of his pussy. Even through the haze of his bliss, he can see the surprised blink of Louis' eyes.
"Sorry!" Harry gasps out, somewhat mortified but also past the point of caring about anything else but the joy and pleasure pumping through his veins.
Louis is not put off by it; vice versa, he kneads Harry's lips open and dips his tongue inside, wriggling it as Harry's walls clench around him.
When it gets too much, Harry shoves him off and sags against the sweat-damp mattress.
"I thought you couldn't possibly get any hotter but then you squirted. Right on my face," Louis murmurs when he climbs up Harry's body.
His face is a mess again, even worse than before, and Harry can't help but giggle. He grabs his discarded shirt from the bed and wipes the excessive fluids off Louis' skin and beard. "Glad you found it hot. It caught me by surprise too," Harry says.
Harry's not even surprised when Louis sinks into the crook of his neck. He just fits there like a puzzle piece.
Harry can't stay for long though, and Louis is more than a little reluctant to get up. Harry's reluctant to let him, even though he's the one who needs to hurry to dinner. But he reminds himself he couldn't stay anyway, not in Louis' dorm at least.
"I'm sorry this wasn't a success", Louis says when Harry's pulling his jacket on by the door, and his hunched shoulders makes Harry want to hug him.
"You came. I came. Hard ," Harry points out. "That counts as a success to me."
At that, the corner of Louis' mouth curls up a little. Harry imagines he can see a teeny hint of that familiar young adult smugness when he says, "You're welcome."
"Okay, now don't get too cocky, you got lucky with the squirting," Harry warns and leans in to kiss the very corner of Louis' lips. Even though their mouths barely touch, Harry's surprised by the zap the contact sends through his veins.
The temptation to kiss Louis fully on the lips is strong, but Harry fights against it. "Canary Close 2. Apartment 8," he murmurs to Louis' skin. "Tomorrow at 6? I'll cook."
Louis is palpably shocked by the almost-on-the-mouth-kiss, but he nods anyway, smiling a little. "I'll be there."
ΩΩΩ
"You look like a professor, can you tone it down a notch?" Harry hisses at his reflection when he tries on the fourth outfit of the night.
He did the cooking first, which was probably a mistake because now he only has 15 minutes to figure out what to wear. Why does everything he owns look falsely grandeur? Or too casual?
He pulls the jumper off and shoves it back into his closet, pulling out a button up shirt. He leaves a few buttons undone and adjusts the collar to look a bit more relaxed.
He peers at the few pairs of skin-tight jeans he used to wear every single day like his life depended on them.
No.
He can't possibly fit into them anymore. And it would talk forever for Louis to peel them off his legs.
Not that he necessarily is going to get Harry naked. But hypothetically.
Harry pairs the shirt with casual linen trousers and finishes the look with a necklace dangling between his pecs. He's just in time.
The doorbell echoing through his flat has his heart somersaulting and his omega chirping, and he's embarrassed by how fast he dashes to the door. He reminds himself to keep his cool and stops behind the door for a second before he opens it.
"I think you're forgetting I have a really sensitive nose when it comes to you," he hears Louis say in the hall. "I know you're behind the door."
Face flaring, Harry unlocks the door and pushes the door open. He sees a way too pleased looking Louis, innocently standing with his hands behind his back. Harry's glad he went for the casual fit because that's what Louis did too. He's wearing regular jeans and a deep purple jumper, sleeves rolled up to reveal all those tattoos.
He looks illegally good.
Harry pouts at him, "You and your nose."
Louis grins. "Thank God for my nose because I nearly got lost. My navigator wasn't aware of the new construction site nearby and got confused. Luckily, I got my own navigator," he says, and brings his hand out to tap the tip of his nose, smiling mischievously.
"Well, I guess we have to thank your nose for that at least."
"Yeah. I, uh, I got you something," Louis says, pulling his other hand out from behind his back too, and revealing a small bouquet of flowers. Daffodils, more precisely. He reaches them out and Harry's embarrassed flush quickly turns bashful as he grabs the bouquet.
"Oh? Thank you, they're–"
"I mean I don't even know if you like flowers but… I still wanted to get you something, so I thought flowers would work better than chocolate, for example, in case you're like lactose intolerant, but now I'm thinking what if you're allergic to flowers and–"
"I do like flowers," Harry interrupts with an amused smile, still not used to seeing Louis so visibly nervous and jittery around him. "They're beautiful, thank you."
Louis visibly deflates. "Right. Cool."
"Are you going to come in?" Harry asks.
"Are you going to invite me in?"
Harry says nothing, just steps aside from the door gap and gestures for Louis to come in. He toes his shoes off while Harry's whiffing the flowers, smiling behind the bouquet at Louis' obvious courting move.
"Is it alright if I pee first?"
"No, absolutely not," Harry says in all his seriousness and lowers the bouquet. "I don't allow my guests to pee in my home."
"How very kinky of you. This will be an interesting dinner, then."
"Toilet's down the hall," Harry squeaks as he pulls the door closed, not surprised but not at all pleased by how Louis has managed to make him blush three times in the past twenty seconds.
While Louis uses the bathroom, Harry finds a vase for the flowers. They smell divine and fit perfectly on Harry's dining table, so he wants to put them on display. It finishes the dinner setting nicely and matches the pastels in decoration in general.
After setting the vase in its rightful place, he pulls the salmon and mash out of the oven where he kept them warm, and puts them on the table on top of trivets.
"It smells amazing in here," Comes Louis' voice suddenly.
Harry preens. "Thanks. I made salmon with butter cream sauce and mashed potatoes."
"Oh, yeah, the food smells incredible too," Louis says, and Harry turns around to glare at him but can't help smiling. He refuses to let himself blush over every little compliment, but it's not his fault each one feels like a caress.
Harry can play this game too, though. "I didn't make any dessert, but you can eat me out instead."
"Now you just make me want to skip straight to the dessert," Louis says behind him, his hand sneaking between Harry's legs to cup his cunt and give it a few hard rubs.
Despite going breathless, Harry shoves his hand off. "And let the food get cold?"
"Knowing you, I don't think it would have enough time to get cold."
Mouth falling open in shock, Harry whips his head around to see Louis' mischievous grin. He wants to kiss that grin off so bad it's almost hurting him, but he only ends up glaring at him again. "You're one to talk."
Harry would never tease Louis for what happened yesterday, but he deserved it now for making remarks about him. Fortunately, Louis just keeps grinning, his eyebrows bouncing up once. "What can I say? You're very hot."
"In my defense, so are you," Harry admits, not far away from blushing yet again. "And you've got a good mouth."
"Yeah? And even greater fingers, I learned."
Harry turns around and pushes Louis on one of the chairs before Harrycan say fuck the dinner and lay himself out on the table instead. " Sit. Down," he commands. "Be patient. I spent a long time preparing this meal."
"I know," Louis smiles, his eyes following Harry's every move. "Your efforts are not going unnoticed, I promise. I'm just teasing."
Harry pulls the soda jug out of the fridge and sets it on the table. He leans closer to Louis and whispers in his ear, "You like to tease but so do I. Just keep that in mind because there is always a payback coming and I know exactly how to make a man squirm."
Finally, Harry can see a taint of pink on Louis' cheeks. It's like his overly strong confidence is partly a facade that he puts up after every vulnerable moment, like now after gifting the flowers and not knowing how Harry would react to them.
Smiling, Harry sits down at the other side of the table. " Bon Appétit. "
Harry knows he's a great cook, but he's still preening when he learns Louis thoroughly enjoys the dinner he prepared for him.
After eating, Harry tidies up the kitchen and puts any leftovers in the fridge, but then he has no idea what to do. They both are expecting to have sex, but Harry kind of wants Louis to initiate it, both because he still doesn't want to feel like he's taking advantange, and because Louis' ego might still be hurt from yesterday.
So, they end up on the couch in the living room watching a movie, both feeling a little stiff and awkward over not knowing how to be. Even though Harry picked a horror movie, just so he'd have a good excuse to get closer to Louis.
Under "normal" circumstances Harry might serve some wine to ease the nerves and pluck up the courage, but he doesn't want to be the only one drinking and he's not serving Louis alcohol. Just out of following his principles.
… Which he hasn't been actively following lately.
Both of them subtly inch closer, although they try to make it look like they're just fixing their position.
Eventually, Louis' knee is touching Harry's leg.
"Everyone who loves horror movies is a psycho," Louis says in the middle of a suspenseful scene.
"I wouldn't say I love them, but I have to say I like the adrenaline," Harry murmurs behind one of the decorative pillows.
"You're not even watching!" Louis squeaks.
"I'm listening."
He's tempted not to do that either, since the home theater makes it sound a little too real, with the sound effects echoing from every corner of his living room.
He feels the couch dip; Louis is moving closer.
A sudden loud noise from the TV makes them both yelp and jump. Harry only clutches the pillow to his face harder, until he finally feels Louis' arm come around his shoulders to pull him into his arms.
Harry throws the pillow aside and cowers under Louis' arm instead.
"I wasn't sure if this is alright," Louis murmurs, his thumb rubbing small circles on Harry's arm. "We have sex, but you don't like kissing because it's too intimate, yet you don't mind scenting which in turn is very intimate to me and I'm not sure if you consider this a date… And where does cuddling fall in that whole 'intimacy' issue."
"I picked a horror movie to get you to cuddle me," Harry admits, his face flaming. "You could take a hint, you know."
" Or you could just talk to me so I wouldn't have to guess."
Touché.
"Fair enough."
"I just don't wanna overstep, you know," Louis says quietly, his thumb stilling on Harry's arm. "It'd be nice if you, you know, initiated if you want something, because I'm pretty sure I want everything anyway."
"Careful there, remember that you're talking to someone who doesn't let their guests pee."
Louis snorts. "You didn't even put up a fight. You have to try a little harder."
Snickering, Harry climbs on Louis' lap, but gets serious fast when he sees the look on Louis' face. Though he seems positively surprised by Harry straddling his thighs.
"Was just thinking how I'd want you to initiate so I wouldn't feel like I'm somehow, you know, taking advantage of you."
"You're not, okay? This has nothing to do with you being my 'superior' because you're my professor and you know it. You're my omega and my world revolves around you," Louis argues, and with a chuckle, he adds, "In a healthy way, that is."
Smiling, Harry leans down to nuzzle Louis' neck to hide his own blush. Louis’ alpha is acknowledging that Harry is his omega, and Harry's all but preening. He's still not used to having his own alpha, even though the situation isn't the most ideal.
"What do you want from me, Harry?"
It's not unkind, the way Louis asks it, but there's a certain kind of edge to it. Harry doesn't blame him; he would like to know too if he was in Louis’ shoes. And he wants to know what Louis wants from him, too.
"Everything you want to give me."
"That's not true," Louis says with a crooked smile. "I'm asking you. Please."
Sighing, Harry raises his head. "Honestly? I want to date. Like people do. But we can't go out like that for as long as you're in my classes. I want a normal relationship, but I don't know if that's possible."
"We can always date in secret until I'm finished with college. Or your classes, more precisely," Louis suggests, finally putting his hands on Harry's thighs. "Or we can just fuck too, but I can't guarantee that I could do it long-term. It'd be hard not to, you know, develop any… feelings for you."
It's not just Harry's omega that's chirping, it's Harry.
"I mean… I would be lying if I said I didn't already have feelings for you," Harry quietly admits, averting Louis' eyes and toying with the neck of his shirt instead. "And not just because of the bond, even though that probably started it but… It's not just my omega that wants their alpha close. I want you close."
With his eyes so closely transfixed on Louis' collar, he can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows heavily.
"Yeah?"
Harry nods. "Yeah."
"I want you close to me too."
Harry's stomach jumps and his heart all but stops, but he tries not to let it show too much on his face. He just nods. "Good, good."
Louis chuckles, sliding his hands up Harry's thighs and onto his hips. From the way his fingers are twitching and curling, Harry can tell he's still nervous about something.
Harry raises his head up, again, and Louis' eyes skim over his lips. Smiling, Harry leans closer so his mouth is only inches away from Louis'. "Kiss me."
"What?"
"Kiss me," Harry repeats.
"You don't have to let me kiss you just because we shared things."
The more words Louis utters, the more his warm breath lures Harry closer. His lips are barely apart from Louis anymore when he says, "Don't be daft, I've wanted to kiss you ever since we first hooked up."
"Are you sure? I mean you were quite serious about the whole no kissing thing."
"And I'm serious about this too. Kiss me? Please. On the lips. These lips," he says and points at his mouth, making Louis chuckle.
"These lips?" Louis asks as he lets his lips brush against Harry's lower lip, to which Harry just nods, nearly whining.
Louis seals their mouths together, and as much of a cliche as it is, Harry's stomach instantly fills with butterflies and his eyes fall shut in bliss. It's everything he imagined and more, and he's already addicted.
Louis' lips are perfectly soft and pillowy, and his rough beard gives a perfect contrast to them. They fit against Harry's as well as the rest of them.
Harry tilts his head and cups Louis' face, kissing him deeper. Louis responds to it eagerly, softly sucking Harry's lip between his own, before playfully tugging on it with his teeth.
Someone screaming on the TV makes them both jump and pull apart. After the first shock they both laugh, and Harry drops his forehead against Louis', still licking his lips.
"Alpha?"
"Mm?"
Harry climbs down from Louis' lap and pauses the movie, then grabs Louis' hand. "Wanna show you something."
He doesn't need to pull, Louis is on his feet in a second, eyebrows raised in a curious manner.
Harry leads him through the hall and into his bedroom, where he flicks on the light and dims it a little. He never lets go of Louis' hand as he drags him into his walk-in closet and shuts the door after.
"Is this seven minutes in heaven?"
Harry chuckles, flicking on the closet light. "Seven, seventeen, seventy… Anything works."
As the light reaches every corner of the closet, Harry suddenly grows insecure. He can immediately see a pillow that's not in the right place and he accidentally left one of his shirts on the mattress when it should be on the–
"What a pretty nest you've built," Louis says quietly. "In such a convenient place too, so well secured."
Beaming, Harry falls onto the mattress in the middle, shimmying up until he's nicely settled. He doesn't tell Louis he first built his nest in the bathtub but it wasn't very convenient because his guests needed to use the toilet next to it and Harry would get all snarly when they expressed their need to use it.
Harry makes grabby hands at Louis.
"You want me in your nest?"
Harry nods. "Yeah."
"Alright. It's an honor, to be honest."
When Louis crawls between his knees, it doesn't take long for them to get lost in another, more passionate kiss that has them both shredding their clothes within minutes.
Kissing always makes Harry plenty wet, but Louis still insists on eating him out until he's all but dripping, with slick gushing on his thighs too.
Even though Harry hates thinking about it like that, he's worried Louis might find it all a bit too stimulating and the actual intercourse would end short again.
But it doesn't.
Louis is more focused on his breathing this time, and he stops every time he gets too close. It's a success all in all, and Harry can't remember the last time he was so perfectly tenderly railed. And kissed.
That's how Louis becomes his boyfriend. In secret.
It's just another year and a half.
It's nothing compared to the rest of their lives.