Archive of Our Own

Harry walked into the coffee shop and lifted his sunglasses from the curve of his nose, pushing them into his graying curls and sweeping the hair away from his face. His eyes scanned the shop in search of the man he was here to meet, one of the most sought after brokers in all of Chicago’s real estate market. The broker had come highly recommended by Harry’s coworker Robert and Harry had been beyond impressed by the home Robert had purchased through the brokerage when he saw it for the first time. 

Louis Tomlinson had made quite a name for himself, his accomplishments and abilities raved about by more than one of the doctors at Harry’s hospital who had worked with Mr. Tomlinson. He had heard nothing but great things about the man — that he was an aggressive broker who would fight for his clients and work his ass off around the clock to find the perfect home. At only twenty-three, it was incredibly impressive that he had accrued such an extensive client list from the uppercrust of midwest society. Harry had to admit, he had been shocked upon seeing such a young face on the website Robert had referred him to but he had nothing but confidence in Louis’ abilities after reading countless raving reviews and listening to his coworkers gush about him. 

When his eyes adjusted to the dark lighting, Harry was able to locate the broker seated along the wall away from the noisy group of girls giggling loudly. He looked studious in his gray plaid trousers and black sweater, thin lips pulled slightly downwards as he stared at his computer screen. Harry almost didn’t want to interrupt him — sure that whatever Louis was working on must be incredibly important. Before he had the chance to approach the young man, he found icy blue eyes staring right back at him.

Those two thin lips immediately curled into a bright smile as he slid from his seat at the table, beckoning Harry over with a sweep of his hand. It reminded Harry of the no-nonsense nurses at the hospital whom he adored — always friendly but still stern. He lifted his hand in a wave, skirting around the tables and extending his hand.

“Hello,” the man spoke, voice pitched higher in tone and his eyes bright. “You must be Doctor Styles. I’m Louis Tomlinson, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Harry smiled, shaking the younger man’s petite hand with a curt nod. “Thank you, I’m glad you could meet with me on such short notice.” Now that he’s closer, he was able to see the light freckles dusting the high cheekbones and petite nose of the man across from him. Maybe it was the fact that he had just gotten off a twelve hour shift where he had spent his day looking at just about every possible orifice of a human being possible, but he couldn’t help but notice that Louis was an objectively very attractive man. 

“Of course, it’s no problem at all. Would you like something to drink?” Louis asked, smoothing his hands over the tight thighs of his trousers. 

As tempting as it sounded to get himself a strong cup of coffee after working the night shift, Harry was supposed to be headed straight home after this meeting to collapse in bed and sleep for ten hours before rising at the crack of dawn to do it all over again. “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

Louis gestured for Harry to sit, sliding into his seat and clasping his hands on top of the table. “Right. So, why don’t we begin with you telling me a bit about yourself so I can get a feel for what we’re looking for and what kind of house would suit your lifestyle?”

The brokerage had already compiled a dossier on him, but he supposed there were certain formalities to abide by. Harry rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves and seated himself across the table from Louis. “As you already know, I’m a general practice doctor so I tend to work a lot of long shifts at odd hours of the day. I would love a space that is calming, tranquil, quiet . Work tends to consume most of my time so I just want a home that I can return to after a long day and relax.”

As he spoke, Louis jotted down notes in his journal, nodding along. “I see. Any particular features you would be looking for in a home?”

“Certainly. A big kitchen is a must for me, as I really enjoy cooking and I would like a garden. I have a daughter and a son so I would prefer a home that has spare bedrooms for them when they come to visit,” Harry explained, rubbing the growing scruff muttered over his jaw. 

“You have kids?” Louis hummed, hardly looking up from his notepad. “How old?”

Truthfully, Harry could talk for hours about his children, infinitely proud of his son and daughter. They were the reason he worked so hard and now that his youngest was off to college, it was time for him to move out of the condo and into a new place — a fresh start. “My youngest, Isabella, is eighteen and my eldest, Brent, is twenty.”

“I see. Are you looking to get away from the noise of Chicago, get closer to work, or why are you looking to move?”

Harry looked down at his hands in his lap and twisted the ring on his index finger round and round. “The condo was the first place I moved when my ex-wife and I got divorced. It was perfect for what I needed at the time but it’s been almost eight years and I think it’s time to change it up.”

Bottom lip trapped between his teeth, Louis nodded and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Have you given any thought to what kind of house you’d like?”

“One that feels like home?” Harry chuckled with a shrug.

“Is that a question or an answer?” His voice was edging on teasing, a playful lilt to it that made one feel as though they were chatting with an old friend. Blue eyes shining, Louis lifted his cup of tea and took a sip, humming under his breath.

“Both, I suppose.”

Louis pursed his lips, a faint crease formed between his brows and Harry could practically see the cogs of his mind working. “Do you think you’re more drawn towards modern, sleek designs or have you got an eye for classic, traditional homes?”

When Harry had initially purchased his condo in the heart of Chicago, he had merely been looking for something different . For years he had allowed his wife to make the decisions about their home, leaving it entirely up to her on the decor, furniture, and paint color. The condo was sleek, all white walls, concrete floors, and chrome accents. His kids had loved to tease him about his supposed ‘bachelor pad’ — though it hardly saw any action. He didn’t feel so much like a bachelor as much as he dida lonely middle aged man. 

“I’ll be honest with you, I’m not quite sure. My ex made most of those decisions,” Harry hummed. “Sorry, I know that isn’t very helpful.”

His uncertainty was met with a kind smile, the kind you got when your server at a restaurant took your order — polite and charming but a mask nonetheless. “That’s alright. If you’re open to it, I would love to set up a few showings and get you in a few houses that fit your requirements. We can see what you like, what you don’t like, and that will help us get a handle on what direction to go in.”

Harry found himself nodding eagerly, sitting forward a bit in his chair. “Absolutely, I think that’s a wonderful idea. I typically work weekdays from six to six but occasionally I get called in for an evening shift, so I apologize in advance if my schedule is a bit difficult to work around,” he chuckled.

The young real estate broker reached into his portfolio and slid a small red and white card across the table. “That’s perfectly fine. This is my number and my email, feel free to reach out should you need absolutely anything. It’s my job to make the process of selling your condo and buying a new home as seamless and stress-free as possible so do let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” Louis began to pack up his things, neatly sliding his notebook, laptop, and pen into the satchel by his side. “Since this is the first time we’ve ever worked together you can expect to hear from me in the next twenty-four hours with a few potential leads and if any pique your interest we’ll set up a time to meet up and look at them.”

It was truly impressive to see the way Louis worked, every word and every action part of a calculated routine. He was good — Harry would give him that — and as he watched Louis fix his fringe with a quick tilt of the head, he found himself feeling a bit lost. Being nearly forty-five, Harry despised the common phrase ‘you can’t teach an old dog new tricks’ — though at the moment he was admittedly struggling with the idea of moving on from the place he’d lived for eight years. 

“Is that it then?” Harry asked, tugging at the knot of his tie as he stood from his chair. 

Louis was quick to nod, a bright and cheerful smile etched into his features. “That’s all for today. Easy peasy.” He hardly gave Harry a moment to collect himself before he’s sticking his hand out once more.

The man had taken hardly thirty minutes from start to finish, breezing through his questions and gathering a few notes about Harry’s current place. Of course, there were still a million inspections to be done on the condo and they were only just beginning, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before Louis had him packed and unpacked into his new home. 

He accepted the outstretched hand with a firm shake and checked the time on his Rolex. It was hardly half ten. “Well, thank you, Mr. Tomlinson, for your time this morning.”

“Please, call me Louis,” the young man hummed. “I’ll be in touch.”

When Harry stepped out onto the crowded sidewalk, sun practically blinding him as tourists and locals alike swerved around him, he frowned and slid his sunglasses on. His back ached and his knee was feeling particularly stiff, but the thought of going home to an empty apartment and a cold bed was rather depressing. But where else did he have to go? None of his friends were off work and if he didn’t get a hot shower in now, his lower back would be killing him later. 

With a sigh, Harry plucked his earbuds from the pocket of his loose brown trousers and pulled up a playlist filled with the likes of Bill Withers, John Denver, and Bryan Adams. Off he went, alone and exhausted into the bustling streets of Chicago to his home occupied by only himself and a scrappy old tabby cat — just two old souls in a condo that felt more like a hotel room. 

≪ ◦ ✧ ◦ ≫

The next time Harry saw the young broker it was early on a Saturday morning, the sun hidden behind wispy gray clouds as fog rolled over the gentle slopes of the Illinois countryside. As Harry stepped out of his Rolls Royce, gravel crunching beneath his loafers, he gazed up at the looming estate. The ivy-covered red brick was rather charming, Harry had to admit and he did find that he enjoyed the wrought iron fence along the garden. 

Parked in the driveway already was a white Mini Cooper, windshield wiper blades flicking back and forth in the misting rain. As Harry approached, the door to the car popped open and out stepped the man dressed in a long wool coat layered over a hoodie. It was a look that not many could pull off, but on Louis it looked effortlessly casual and put-together. 

“Good morning, Doctor Styles,” hummed a raspy, thick midwestern accent. “Did you enjoy the drive in? I’ve always found the area to be the most beautiful in the mornings.”

He looked a bit tired, eyes slightly hooded and lips pouted as he sipped from his travel mug. His brow arched and mouth quirked into a smirk behind the thermos, waiting for Harry’s reply. Goodness, here Harry was analyzing this near perfect stranger, probably weirding out this young man with his awkward staring.

“Yes,” Harry coughed, ripping his eyes from the well dressed boy. “It was quite lovely. You definitely found the peacefulness that I’ve been looking for.”

Louis smiled brightly, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Excellent! This is a beautiful listing, I think you’ll love it. It’s a bit more than you were looking to spend, but trust me, this place is a gem. The owners are looking to move to the UK, so I’m sure they would be interested in an offer that was slightly less than the asking price.”

It was certainly a beautiful home, situated on a large lot with manicured hedges lining the drive and a large fountain bubbling with water. From the outside alone, Harry couldn’t be sure if it really spoke to him. It seemed a bit too large for only one man. 

“What do you say we head inside then?” Louis offered, the small shiver running down his spine not going unnoticed as he tugged his coat around himself. He led the way, pointing out various architectural features as he draped his wool coat over his arm and waltzed down the polished wooden halls as if he owned the house himself. 

To say that the home was big would be an understatement. The tall vaulted ceilings were reminiscent of a cathedral and Harry did quite enjoy the natural light that came pouring through the large floor to ceiling windows in the living room — even the sectional seemed dwarfed in such a massive space. It was rather cold and impersonal with the sparse furnishings and cool white walls bearing neutral artwork, picture frames with stock photos garnered upon the mantle of an elaborate fireplace in a poor attempt to make it look lived in. 

“Okay, this is the living room, complete with a fireplace for those cold Western Springs nights. I love the tall ceilings in here — they really open the space up, don’t you think?” Louis hummed, his eyes close to powder blue in the ray of sunlight he was standing in and his arms outstretched in a broad gesture. 

The purpose of staging a home for a showing was to help the client envision themselves in the space, putting in just enough furniture to make it look like a home someone would actually live in but neutral enough that the client couldn’t imagine someone else in that space. A blank canvas, he supposed. He wouldn’t make up his mind just yet, but if he was being completely honest he wasn’t feeling this one.

“It’s impressive,” Harry allowed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks, tipping his head back to peer at the chandelier. 

He followed Louis from the living room towards the kitchen and noted the open floor plan. It wasn’t unlike his current home, filled with white cabinetry and chrome accents but he enjoyed the hexagonal backsplash behind the stove. It was modern and sleek in design but Harry wasn’t sure it had ever been cooked in. It simply looked too clean.

Louis trailed his fingers over the marble countertop and rapped his knuckles against the electric stovetop. “The kitchen was remodeled last year. The owner had a brand new oven, stove, and sink put in, all stainless steel obviously,” he hummed. “Of course, it has all the latest technology including heated flooring, temperature controlled counters, and smart appliances.”

“Really?” Harry asked in surprise. He’d never even heard of such a thing as temperature controlled counters, he couldn’t fathom why on earth someone would need such a thing. “Whatever happened to just regular countertops?”

For once, Louis momentarily breaks his carefully curated facade of polite smiles and pleasantries. “I suppose they’re all just as attached to their electronics as the rest of us are,” he snickered, a mischievous glint sparkling behind blue eyes. “Damn kids.”

Setting aside the fact that Louis was half Harry’s age, he found the young real estate broker captivating and even his humor was witty, charming Harry effortlessly. Being an accomplished doctor, Harry didn’t often get caught off guard but Louis had him tipping his head back and releasing the most unattractive honk of laughter. Louis had looked rather delighted with himself, lips pressed together as he rocked forward and bounced on the balls of his feet as if he just couldn’t contain himself. “That’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, innit?”

His comment was met with a twisted smile and a shrug. “Shall we continue?”

On they went, climbing the rounded staircase up to the second floor and along a long corridor. Louis gave him a tour of the second floor, rattling off the history of the house and pointing out the skylights, steam showers, and the guest bedrooms. There was even a small in-home movie theater. The master bedroom was similar to the rest of the house, following the same blandly modernized color palette. 

It wasn’t until he had seen the whole house that Louis routed them back to the kitchen, arms crossed and a cheerful smile on his lips. “So,” he asked, hip cocked as he leaned against the counter. “What do you think?”

Truth be told, Harry thought a lot of things. He thought blue raspberry was a wildly overrated flavor, that hospitals should have more therapy dogs, and that most of his generation gave Gen Z too hard a time over their music taste. When he was their age, his parents thought Elton John was garbage and Queen was a bunch of strung out lunatics. He also thought Louis was probably one of the most attractive people he had met in quite a long time. But that was beside the point. 

“I think it’s a nice house, but it isn’t for me,” Harry decided. “I like that it’s more secluded and quiet but the commute to work would be too far. It’s a bit too big for my taste and it doesn’t feel like home.”

Louis nodded understandingly and pushed off from the counter. “Duly noted. I’ll keep looking then, and let you know what I find. In the meantime, I’m going to need to stop by your condo to do a quick inspection and give you a few quick things you can do to help your place appeal to potential buyers. Does Tuesday night work?”

“I get off at six so as long as you’re able to stop by at around half past, that should work just fine.”

With a bright and cheery smile, Louis clapped his hands and plucked his coat from the back of the kitchen stool. “Thank you for your time today, Doctor Styles. I appreciate you driving all the way out here and I hope next time I drag you out to the countryside it’s to your future home,” he hummed. 

“Please,” Harry blurted, running his fingers through his graying curls. “Call me Harry. Doctor Styles makes me feel like I’m at work.”

“Very well. Have a great rest of your day, Harry,” Louis murmured, lips twitching upwards and his brow quirking minutely in what Harry could only describe as smug. “I’ll see you at yours later this week.”

≪ ◦ ✧ ◦ ≫

It had been a long time since Harry had had someone back to his condo, especially someone like Louis. It wasn't as though the young man was particularly judgemental, though Harry had noticed he often got this look where his eyes would stare at something and his lips would press together in a tight line as if he was holding back his thoughts. He was kind, charming, and captivating to watch, which was part of the problem. 

You see, Harry usually prided himself on being impartial, always calculating and weighing the odds to just about every situation — it was part of what made him such a successful doctor — but Louis had a way of distracting him. Normally confident and self-assured, the doctor couldn’t help but get a bit lost around Louis. He was beautiful and intriguing — a dangerous combination.

“Get it together. You’re acting like a school boy,” Harry muttered, hands planted on the vanity in his bathroom as he stared at his own reflection. The sad bastard looking back at him looked tired, dark circles under his eyes and crows feet at the corners. He was far too old to be acting like a young teen getting nervous to have his crush over. This was simply business.

Splashing a bit of water on his face to keep himself awake after such a long shift, Harry combed his fingers through his curls and carefully extracted his contacts. He blinked away the dryness and reached for the glasses resting beside his toothbrush, sighing as he took one more glance at the man in the mirror. 

Dressed in loose trousers, t-shirt, and a cardigan, Harry wandered into the living room and smiled when he heard a familiar tinkling sound. “Hello there, love,” he murmured softly, approaching the old cat slowly. “How is my girl doing today?” Ever so carefully, Harry pet his hand down her back, humming lowly. The old tabby wasn’t the most social of cats, usually more content to slink around the house and avoid any kind of human contact, but every once in a while Meredith came out of hiding to say hello.

He smiled as the grumpy old cat arched into his hand and purred, her hazy eyes blinking slowly. For once, she actually let him scoop her up and butt her head against his chin affectionately. “That’s my sweet girl,” Harry said in a low rumble, scratching behind her ears as he trailed into the kitchen to tidy up. He was normally a very clean person but he’d been in a bit of a hurry that morning to get to work and had left his bowl of oatmeal lying on the counter. He quickly discovered that doing the dishes with only one hand is near impossible. 

Meredith’s ears went flat and two seconds later she was clawing her way out of Harry’s arms, dashing away when the sound of the buzzer went off. A brief glance at his watch showed 6:30 on the dot — Harry was beginning to realize that Louis was never even a minute late to anything. He was nothing if not punctual. 

Upon swinging open his front door, Harry smiled at the slightly breathless boy standing in his doorway. “Are you alright?” Harry chuckled, thinking that despite the subtle disheveled hair and rumpled shirt, that Louis looked quite nice. Dressed in Burberry plaid and fitted jeans, the young broker looked as though he belonged in an ad campaign, not standing in the hallway of Harry’s building. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Louis breathed, combing his fringe to tame his hair. “Did you know the elevator in your building is out?”

It dawned on him that he had forgotten to warn Louis about the elevator; it had been out for nearly three days now — not that it mattered much to Harry seeing as he tried to take the stairs as often as he could. “Oh,” Harry chuckled. “I’m so sorry about that, come in. I’ll grab you a glass of water.”

Without giving Louis a chance to decline, Harry gestured for the man to come in and meandered towards the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water. He reached up into the cabinet over the sink and filled the glass with filtered water from his fridge, glancing out of the corner of his eye as Louis stood awkwardly in the entrance of his condo.

“Would you like for me to take my shoes off?” Louis asked, glancing down at his oxfords. “I’d hate to track dirt.”

“Sure, make yourself at home. If you’d like to hang up your coat, there should be a spare hanger in the closet,” Harry called, discreetly hiding his dirty bowl from earlier. He was shocked to see Meredith padding over to Louis, watching as blue eyes widened in delight. “She’s not very—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Louis was dropping to his knees and holding out his hand for her. Meredith hated strangers. It had taken her almost six months before she had even allowed Harry’s children to come anywhere near her, and yet there she was, rubbing her cheek against Louis’ hand as the young man giggled. Harry was effectively speechless. 

“Such a pretty kitty, aren’t you?” Louis snickered, stroking his hand down her back and scratching at her chin. He beamed, grinning brighter than the sun and Harry is convinced it’s one of the first real smiles he had seen from him. 

Swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat, Harry shook his head in awe. “I can’t believe she’s letting you pet her. Meredith hates most people, she’s a grumpy old lady.”

Louis snorted, winking playfully at the haggered tabby. “To be fair, I do too. But that doesn’t make you a grumpy old lady,” he cood and, surprisingly, picked her up without so much as a hiss or a scratch. “Age is just a number anyways, right Meredith?”

Warmth flooded Harry’s chest, a slightly alarming feeling that he didn’t quite know what to do with at that point. He cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from the sight that was a bit too adorable for him to handle. “Water?” He rasped.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

Harry pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers and jerked his elbow towards the living space. “Would you like a tour?”

“Right! Yes, I would love one,” Louis giggled, momentarily forgetting himself before getting to his feet and toeing off his shoes. He left them next to Harry’s own shoes, looking stupidly cute and small compared to Harry’s loafers.

Meredith joined them on their tour, more than content to purr and swish her tail happily while Louis scratched beneath her chin and behind her ears through each room. All the while, Louis nodded and squinted his eyes, entirely focused on taking mental notes about Harry’s home. Meanwhile, Harry couldn’t take his eyes off him — his bottom lip pinched between his fingers as he showed Louis the guest rooms, master bed, bathrooms, and the modern kitchen. 

“So what attracted you to the condo in the first place?” Louis asked when they stopped in front of the large windows overlooking downtown Chicago. In his arms, Meredith purred loudly, the sound surprisingly loud and filling the living room like a hum of an engine. Harry is positive he has never heard her make a noise like that before.

The older man shrugged, facial hair bristling under his hand as he rubbed his cheek. “It was nowhere near my ex-wife.”

“Ah,” Louis murmured, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Does the distance not matter so much anymore?”

“Not really. When we first split it was amicable, neither one of us was really in love with the other anymore and by the time the divorce was finalized I had realized how much of myself I had forgotten along the way. You never really think it’s possible until one day you wake up and you don’t recognize yourself anymore,” Harry muttered, shaking his head bitterly. He held no real contempt for his ex, but he was glad they were through.

Louis peered at him, a small crease between his brows and a subtle downturn of the corners of his lips. Harry normally had a much better filter but it had been a while since he had last had someone over, invading every space of his home, and the whole thing was knocking him a bit off kilter.  

Lord, Harry really was forgetting his manners. He smiled tightly and waved his hands dismissively. “I’m sorry, you definitely didn’t ask for this.”

“Maybe not,” Louis allowed, nuzzling his nose against the top of Meredith’s head between her ears. “But people do often tell me I’m an easy person to open up to. They say I’m a good listener.”

Harry didn’t disagree. Even from only two official meetings thus far, he had gotten the same sense from Louis. His kind smile, earnest gaze, and easy demeanor were like an invitation to spill one’s inner thoughts. “How about I make some dinner and I can be the one to listen for once?”

A pretty pink blush flushed across the boy’s cheeks, coloring his face all the way to his ears in a way that was overwhelmingly endearing. His lips parted with his inhale, blinking in surprise as he seemingly struggled to find his words. “Oh, that’s entirely unnecessary. I can’t trouble you—”

“No, please! Trouble me, I’m begging you,” Harry laughed. “I haven’t had time to eat yet anyway and I might just pass out if I don’t have something to eat soon.”

For a moment, Louis rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and stared down at the ant-sized people flooding the streets below. “Okay,” he finally agreed, biting back a smile. “I can’t turn down a nice homemade meal, I hardly ever get them anymore.”

In the kitchen, Harry stooped to pour a cup of food in Meredith’s bowl, grinning when the tabby immediately wriggled out of Louis’ arms and slunk over to her kitty food. “Is that so? Do you not cook?”

“God, no. I’m a terrible cook and even if I wasn’t, I spend all of my time at the brokerage anyway.”

It sounded awfully lonely, though Harry himself was no stranger to loneliness. Despite having to share his kids’ time with his ex even before they went to college, he hadn’t known it would feel so empty to not have them lounging around his living room or giggling at his dining room table once they had both left the nest. After eight years, maybe he was ready to share part of himself with someone else.

Having Louis sat at his kitchen counter, perched atop one of the stools while he chopped veggies felt nice. For years he had been sitting by himself with a quickly prepared dinner like salad or a can of soup while Meredith ate by his feet, the silence ringing in his ears. “Would you like a glass of wine?” When Louis shook his head, Harry retrieved only one glass and filled it with his favorite cabernet, swirling it in his glass before taking a sip and nodding his approval. “So, tell me Louis, what made you get into real estate?” He asked in a hum, pulling a pot from the cupboards and placing it atop his electric stovetop to boil water. 

“When I was growing up we moved around a lot and while most people would probably hate having to be uprooted every year, I actually loved it. It was fun and exciting to me. As I got older I was always fascinated by the houses we moved into and I thought it would be cool to get to see all of these amazing houses. It’s a bit like being a matchmaker, you know? Finding the perfect house for every client is a challenge but it’s rewarding.”

“I like that,” Harry admitted. “I’ve moved a few times in my lifetime but the older I get the more daunting it is. You spend years of your life in one home, making memories and adapting to certain luxuries, that when you move it feels like nothing is right. I had looked at a few houses online before I contacted you and I couldn’t imagine myself in any of them. Having someone whose goal it is to matchmake you with the right house is very reassuring.”

Louis shrugged, his gaze trained on Harry’s hands as he chopped veggies and stirred the beginnings of the bolognese sauce. “It’s just part of the job.”

“Well, you do it well. Do you matchmake people as well?” Harry tried to joke, internally cringing at how unsubtle his question was. Christ, he really was quite rusty at the whole flirting thing.

With a giggle, Louis shook his head and rolled his eyes. “God, no. I don’t think I’m nearly as qualified in that area of matchmaking. I’m an expert at houses, not love.”

What that was supposed to mean, Harry was entirely unsure but he would rather not risk completely embarrassing himself, so he steered the conversation back to safer waters. “You moved around a lot as a kid, was that for your parent’s work?”

Harry soon realized that while Louis was normally closed off and professional, all it took was talking about his family for him to open up. While Harry bustled about his kitchen and prepared dinner, Louis spoke of his family, a shy but gleeful smile peeking through his carefully constructed mask of professionalism. He told Harry all about his younger siblings whom he adored, gushing over his eldest sister’s acceptance letter to UCLA and the play his twin sisters were in over the new year. Louis talked with his hands when he wasn’t rattling off facts about architecture or schematics, eyes wide and bright and gestures broad with every story from his childhood.

Over dinner, Louis launched into story after story of his years in college — of the drunken nights with his closest friends and all nighters studying for his real estate license. Perhaps it was unprofessional, but it was refreshing. It felt like having an old friend around for dinner. 

It was on his third glass of wine that Harry noticed Louis had exceptionally pink lips. They were just the right shade of blushed rose and they matched the color of Louis’ cheeks when he laughed, breathless and giggly. He watched them wrap around the tines of his fork with each bite, the two and a half glasses of cabernet sitting in his gut taking away any shame he may have felt for staring so intently at the younger man. Now that he was looking, really looking, he noticed the faintest of freckles and a subtle glow of sun kissed skin along his cheekbones. Louis was horrendously pretty. It was distracting, really. 

“Is that you?” 

The question snapped Harry from his daydream of golden skin and blue irises, missing the amused smirk worn by the real estate broker. He followed Louis’ gaze at a picture perched on the sideboard beside the kitchen and nodded.

In a show of grace, Louis slipped off his stool and meandered over to the array of photos, leaving behind his plate with only remaining smears of bolognese sauce, and plucked the frame from its perch. Though he couldn’t see the exact picture in the frame, he knew it was one from his younger years. 

“Wow,” Louis hummed, brushing his thumb over the glass.

Harry followed, less gracefully than his younger visitor, and smiled wryly when he realized what photo it was. The quality was low and grainy, but by the mess of curls and dimpled smile, it was clearly a very young version of Harry. 

“The glory days,” he hummed. Sadly, he wasn’t in quite the same shape he used to be in. When he was younger, he was quite the athlete and by default, was in the best shape of his life. After a football-related accident that left him with a bum knee in his twenties, he had a hard time maintaining his rugged and muscular physique. He did his best to eat healthy and he was in the gym four days a week but he still couldn’t seem to shed that last little bit of belly where he used to have abs. “And look at me now.”

“I am.” For a millisecond Harry thought he saw Louis’ eyes dart down but then Louis set the photo down and crouched to look at another photo. “Besides, you’re lightyears better than most of my clients. You can still tie your own shoes and you don’t look like you’ve been shot up with so much botox that you can’t move.”

A startled chuckle bubbled past his lips as Harry’s mouth stretched into a grin. “That’s quite a relief,” he laughed with a shake of his head. “I’m only forty-five, I hope I have plenty of time left before I can no longer put my shoes on.”

Louis snickered and covered his smile with the back of his hand, as if the very gesture was forbidden. He glanced at the clock hanging in the kitchen, the laughter falling from his lungs. “Oh,” he breathed, fingers twitching to fix his mussed fringe. “I guess I should probably hurry home.”

Harry was shocked to see that it was nearly nine already, the sun disappeared behind the cityscape and windows of glowing light glittered in its absence. “Shit, I had no idea it was so late already. I’m sorry to keep you for so long, you probably had better things to do.”

“Not really. I had a good time tonight.”

Admittedly, it had been one of the best nights Harry had had in a while — complete with good laughs, strong wine, and pleasant company. “Me too.”

Louis cleared his throat, lips twitching with words unsaid. “Try painting the walls eggshell and refinishing the flooring,” he hummed. “Otherwise, the place looks great. I’ll have one of our stagers come by to tidy the place up and we’ll get some photos to add to the listing.”

All Harry could do was nod dumbly, hands in his pockets as he stubbed his toe against the floor. “Okay.”

“I’ll be in touch?”

Again, Harry bobbed his head in agreement. “I look forward to it.”

≪ ◦ ✧ ◦ ≫

Never before had Harry considered himself picky when it came to interior design. For the most part, he thought he was a fairly easy person to please but with each house that Louis showed him, he was beginning to think he had more opinions than he had originally thought. The next home Louis had shown him was the exact opposite of the previous one, quaint and small with worn wooden floors and cottage-core vibes. It had been lovely, but it wasn’t big enough for Harry to have his kids come visit, so it was onto the next. A midcentury modern loft had been next and Harry had enjoyed the retro feel of the home, but the location on a noisy street had left a little to be desired. 

Harry rolled his shoulders, head lolling from side to side as he stretched his stiff muscles. Just yesterday Louis had shown him a fourth house, and yet again he wasn’t sold on it and now he was beginning to feel incredibly guilty. Was he just making Louis’ job even harder? Was it his fault that Louis was having a difficult time finding the right house? That week had felt like it was never going to end, a blur of particularly difficult patients and crummy weather that had his bad knee aching. 

After such a terrible week, Harry was reluctant to go home to his cat and spend his entire night bored out of his mind with a microwave meal and a bottle of beer. His hands were dry from hours of washing and sanitizing his hands and he couldn’t get the stench of hospital out of his clothing. After stepping into the shower, Harry groaned under the hot spray of water splashing over his back, the heavy thrum easing the tension in his back.

Perhaps a night out was just what he needed. It had been ages since he’d let loose and a few drinks sounded heavenly. It was decided. As soon as he was freshly showered he would head to one of the bars nearby. It had been much too long since he’d gotten out and the more he thought about it the more he looked forward to it. He smirked, breathing in the rich, spiced scent of his body wash and closing his eyes. 

Tonight was going to be a great night.

Donned in trousers and a tight tank with a floral print shirt left unbuttoned layered over and a toothpick pinched between his lips, Harry rolled the ring on his middle finger around and around, scanning the room. The bar was packed to the brim with patrons in varying stages of drunkenness, sweaty bodies bumping into one another. Through the darkly lit room Harry wandered, making a beeline for the bar in search of a bit of liquid courage.

Music from an artist he didn’t recognize was thumping through the speakers, bass vibrating the floor beneath his feet. He felt a bit out of place among the throngs of young adults in their 20s and early 30s but regardless, he sidled up to the bar and lifted a finger to gesture at the bartender. As he glanced over his shoulder he combed his fingers through the gray hairs streaking his curls and tapped his hand against the bar top to the beat of the music. 

It was out of the corner of his eye that he caught a glimpse of a tousled fringe and heard the familiar cackle of laughter. After five meetings and a bit of ogling, Harry would recognize that laugh and beaming smile anywhere. Louis seemed to have recognized him at precisely the same time, his face lighting up as he waved, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Is that Doctor Styles? At a bar?” Louis slurred, nearly shouting as he fought through the crowd. When he reached Harry, he grabbed hold of the Hawaiian shirt hanging from his shoulders and stared at it in awe. “This is so ugly. It’s stupid how well you pull it off.”

“Gee, thanks,” Harry tossed his head back and barked out a laugh, shoulders shaking with laughter as he patted Louis’ hand.

The young man giggled as he ducked his head, batting his lashes as he peered up at Harry and bit his bottom lip in an act of blatant flirtation. “And what is the Doctor doing at a bar dressed like a dad on vacation?” He murmured, tilting his head slightly to the side, accentuating the long line of his neck and the sharp collar bones exposed by the scooping neckline of his t-shirt. 

Louis looked phenomenal, even more so than usual, and Harry was finding it incredibly difficult to not stare at the gorgeous boy being pressed up against him by the crowded bar. He looked different . He was normally buttoned-up and reserved but this Louis was loose, all bright smiles and infectious laughter — he was stunning.

“I’m just out to have a good time. It’s been a rough week at the hospital,” Harry admitted once he was able to stop staring at Louis’ rosy cheeks and pouty lips. 

With a hum, Louis dropped his gaze, clearly checking Harry out, before smiling cheerfully and patting his chest. “Well, you shouldn’t have any problem snagging a hot girl.”

Oh . 

Harry sputtered out a laugh and nearly choked on his toothpick, cheeks hot as he scratched his scruff and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right. Uh. Funny that — That’s not quite my style,” he coughed and set the pick on the bartop before he hurt himself, wincing at his own lack of ability to string two sentences together. One would think he wasn’t a tenured doctor of nearly fifteen years with the way he was stumbling over his own words and blushing like a moron. 

Louis blinked, his perfectly shaped brows slightly furrowed. “It’s not?”

“Anyway,” Harry blurted, desperate to move on from his lack of charm. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my best friend’s birthday, we all came out for drinks to celebrate his 25th, it’s my turn to buy.”

Twenty-five. God, it feels like a hundred years ago since Harry’s own 25th birthday. He was a fool. An absolute fool for getting himself all twisted up with nerves over Louis. Of course Louis wouldn’t want him. He was more than 20 years his senior and Louis probably was looking for someone closer to his own age. 

“I see,” he spoke tightly, swallowing thickly. “Well, this round is on me.”

“No, Harry I couldn’t—”

“Please,” Harry interrupted. “It’s the least I can do considering all you’ve done for me.”

Louis crossed his arms and for a moment Harry was sure the man would refuse him. “Alright,” he spoke, frowning up at Harry in disapproval. “We’re having Fuller’s.”

Harry ordered a round of beers for Louis’ table as well as one for himself and by the time he turned around the broker was gone. Splendid , Harry thought to himself, sighing as he took his first sip. It was bitter and dark, not his usual flavor profile but good nonetheless. He didn’t often get beer, more of a scotch or bourbon man when he wasn’t drinking wine, but every once in a while he did enjoy the indulgence.

He couldn’t help but wonder how he had misread Louis this entire time. Harry could have sworn he was flirting with him but then Louis had disappeared without another word. Perhaps he had finally come to his senses and realized that Harry was too old for him or maybe he was merely attempting to get himself a good recommendation. But there had been a spark, he had been so sure of it. After dinner that night at Harry’s condo, he had come to realize just how funny Louis was - and it wasn’t just silly humor. His jokes were sophisticated and clever, catching Harry off guard with his wit and he was quick as a whip. Louis was shockingly wise for someone of his age and at times Harry almost forgot that the boy was 20 years younger than him. He had been drawn to Louis like a moth to a flame.

But had it all been just for fun? Had he imagined the chemistry?

Shaking his head in disappointment, Harry gulped down a few pulls of beer and wiped the foam from his lips with the back of his hand. As much as he hated to admit it, the sting of insecurity was settling in his bones. Louis was one of the first men in a long time that Harry had felt a genuine attraction to, having gone years without dating save for the rare occasional hook up he used to have a few years ago. 

After his divorce he hadn’t been ready to jump right into a full relationship with another person — especially after he had come out to his friends and family — and opening himself up to the heartache and pain of a relationship had been terrifying. He’d enjoyed a few casual one night stands, though it hadn’t taken long for him to realize that casual sex wasn’t for him, that he enjoyed having someone to dote on and connect with on more than just a physical level. Unfortunately, in the midst of a divorce and the chaos of co-parenting he hadn’t had the time or energy to pursue a relationship. 

“Excuse me?”

Harry’s head snapped up to find a woman standing to his left, dressed in a sweater and jeans looking around 40, if he had to guess. 

“Hi!” The woman said cheerfully. “It’s Harry, right?”

Blinking cluelessly, Harry pasted what he hoped was a convincing smile across his lips and nodded. “Yes, it’s good to see you — uh,” he trailed, cursing internally at himself when he failed to come up with her name. He could swear he’d never seen this woman before in his life.

“Deb,” she prompted. “I’m Cassie’s mom, we met at Isabella’s graduation party. It’s so nice to see you again.”

Harry could only nod dumbly. For the life of him, he still couldn’t remember ever having met her but evidently she had been at his ex-wife’s house for his daughter’s grad party. He was used to running into patients outside of the hospital that he had a hard time recognizing but he always managed to play it cool, never giving away that he couldn’t remember them or their names so he did as he always did and used his dimpled smile to charm. “And how have you been?”

The woman beamed and waved her hand casually, lifting her martini glass to her lips. “I’ve been well. I was just thinking about you the other day and how difficult it must be to go through a divorce. I can only imagine how lonely you must get,” she sighed, batting her lashes. 

Good Lord . 

“Yes, well, it gets much easier over time,” Harry clipped. It was always awkward when the mothers of his kids’ friends’ inevitably flirted with him but usually word spread pretty quickly that the single doctor was gay. Apparently Deb hadn’t gotten the news yet.

“You poor thing,” she cooed and reached out to rest her hand on his forearm. Before she could do so, Harry pulled his arm away and took a sip of his beer, embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck.

“It’s been eight years, I’m feeling just fine.”

Deb made a look that Harry supposed was intended to look saddened but really came off as delighted. “Eight years? Oh, that must be so lonely.”

“Actually—“

“Oh, Harry. You just let me know if you ever need a home cooked meal — I know how you bachelors are with your microwave meals and take out,” she pressed on and snickered into her martini.

“I’m a pretty good cook,” Harry said drily, downing the rest of his beer and setting the empty glass on the bar top. A hand landed on his arm and for a moment he thought it was Deb but when he turned to glare at the owner of the offending hand he saw Louis.

“Come on,” the boy demanded, tugging on Harry’s sleeve as he rolled his eyes at the tipsy older woman. “We’re dancing.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Harry nodded and pushed away from the bar. He wasn’t normally one who enjoyed dancing but he would do anything to get away from the predatory leering of a soccer mom. Louis pulled him into the throngs of drunken young adults gyrating and swaying to whatever techno pop song was thumping through the crowd, his small hand fisted in Harry’s shirt as his drink sloshed over the rim of his glass.

“Thanks for that,” Harry sighed and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You really saved me, I swear sometimes they just don’t get the hint.”

“You looked like you could use the intervention,” Louis snickered and pulled Harry right onto the dancefloor, draping his arm over the man’s shoulder as he lifted his drink to his lips. “Poor Doctor Styles, getting hit on by the lonely single moms.” There was a glint in his icy blue eyes — a flicker of mischief in pools of cyan that had heat prickling at Harry’s neck. 

His lips looked shiny and plump, shimmering with alcohol as Louis smirked and finished off his drink. Maybe Harry was a weak man, but as he swallowed thickly and stared at Louis’ lips, his body gravitated closer and closer until he was closer to Louis than he had ever been before. Sweet cologne and the vague aroma of beer clung to Louis’ thin t-shirt and went straight to Harry’s head, leaving him feeling dizzy. 

“Are we gonna dance or what?” Louis asked, the lights from the dancefloor bouncing off the thin sheen of sweat and highlighting the high points of his cheekbones. He was practically glowing, blue and green dancing across his cheeks as he lifted a brow in amusement.

Though he had half a mind to refuse and attempt to salvage whatever threads of a normal client-agent relationship they had left, Harry nodded. Twenty years ago he used to go out with friends to nightclubs to drink the night away and find a girl to take home but it had been ages since he’d had another body pressed against his own, moving to the music buzzing under their skin. It felt awkward at first to put his hands on the slim waist of his real estate broker, but Louis’ giggling and giddy smile melted away any worries or doubts Harry had clogging up his mind. The older man certainly was not the best dancer, but Louis didn’t seem to mind as he swayed his hips and tilted his head back, lips pulled into a blissful grin.

Vaguely, Harry wondered what happened to Louis’ friends and what made Louis seek him out. Had he seen Harry being cornered by Deb and come to his rescue or had he been looking for him, watching him from across the crowded room as Harry had been tempted to do? 

As they danced, Louis slid his fingers through the short curls at the base of Harry’s neck, raising goosebumps in their wake, and peered up at the older man from beneath his lashes. He was a minx, thin lips smirking as he slid a hand over Harry’s shoulder to rest on his left pec. Beneath Louis’ touch, Harry’s heart pounded against his chest. His face must have portrayed his shock and awe, sending Louis into a fit of giggles when Harry’s eyes widened. 

“What’s the matter, Doctor Styles?” he simpered, looking up at Harry innocently. 

Such a tease.  

Harry laughed, thumbing at Louis’ waist and shaking his head. “Louis, you know you can just call me Harry.”

The young man in his hands shrugged and with a coy smile, twirled around to press his back to Harry’s chest. “I know. But I think Doctor Styles is sexy,” he giggled over his shoulder. 

With Louis’ hands resting atop his own and his ass pressed to his groin, Harry closed his eyes and mouthed ‘fuck .’ It didn’t matter anymore that Harry was trying to mask his arousal, the semi he was sporting pressed against the swell of Louis’ ass, giving him away. He had only a moment to wonder if he was overstepping before Louis was pressing himself more firmly against Harry, rolling his hips and batting his eyelashes. 

Seeing Louis go from the professional, prim and proper broker to being a drunk little thing was dizzying —but Harry loved it. The giggles, sly glances, and flirtatious remarks were cute and it was definitely not making it any easier for Harry to maintain a purely professional client relationship with his broker.

A particularly firm press of Louis’ ass had Harry’s hands tightening their grip on his hips and a hiss falling from his lips. He was more than a little half hard now, his loose slacks doing nothing to mask the line of his cock pressed against his zipper. Rather than pull away to allow Harry a moment to collect himself, Louis smirked and reached back to grasp the base of Harry’s neck, fingernails scratching at his scalp. It was a simple move that he’s sure nobody else would look twice at, but it drove Harry absolutely crazy, eyes rolling back in his head and dick straining in the confines of his briefs. 

He could blame his obscene arousal on having not gotten laid in ages, or on the three beers he’d already had that night, but in reality it was all primal attraction to the boy pressed against him that had his cock aching for friction. He grabbed at Louis’ hips, fingers pressing into the hollows of his hip bones as he pulled Louis in. When Louis swiveled in his arms and tugged him in for a searing kiss, Harry could tell Louis wasn’t in any better shape by the erection brushing against his thigh. It wasn’t normally his habit to get turned on surrounded by fifty other people with a man half his age but fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

Louis’ lips were hot against his, slightly chapped but flavored like the cocktail he’d just had. Cherry, vodka, and lime danced on Harry’s tongue as Louis hummed, the kiss making him feel more drunk than any booze he’d had. The palm of his hand dwarfed Louis’ cheek, fitting perfectly over his jaw. Images of his hand loosely covering Louis’ neck and pulling his hair flashed behind his lids as a low groan snuck past his defenses. With matching fervor he returned the kiss with lips tingling and heart racing. 

He found that Louis kissed like he talked — quickly and eagerly. It was as if he was getting too ahead of himself, breath quivering as he kissed in short bursts, whimpering quietly. He needed to slow down, savor it. “Easy, baby,” Harry murmured, resting his other hand on the curve of Louis’ waist and rubbing his thumb over his ribcage. In his arms Louis seemed to melt, body going lax and his desperation coming out in a soft moan. The sound went straight to Harry’s cock, twitching with interest as Louis keened into him. 

“Harry,” Louis breathed. His hands clutched the thin material of Harry’s shirt tightly and their noses bumped as he darted in for another kiss.

The man before Harry looked fucked out already, his fringe laid askew upon his forehead and the blue and green neon lights reflected off his glassy eyes. Harry’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch . “Yeah?” He rasped.

Without another word, Louis grabbed his hand and tugged, pulling Harry off the dancefloor and into the shadows. Even in the low light of the hallway by the restrooms, Harry could make out blown pupils and flushed cheeks, his own chest heaving as he kissed Louis breathless. It felt good, different, right . Warmth flooded his veins and settled under his skin, seeping through his shirt and Louis’ when their chests pressed together. 

“I want you,” Louis groaned, head lolling to the side. The expanse of his neck looked far too inviting and it would be a crime, really, if Harry didn’t lean in to mouth at the exposed skin. Under his lips, Louis’ throat bobbed as he gulped, a shuddered moan being dragged from his lungs. 

“How many drinks have you had?” Harry muttered, nosing along the line of Louis’ jaw and nipping at the sensitive skin lightly. He longed to mark Louis up, to leave purple reminders of himself along Louis’ jaw, neck, and collarbones but for now he would settle for getting a taste of salty sweat. 

Louis’ fingers slid into his curls, holding him in place as he kissed up his neck. Giggling into the shadows, he gripped the graying strands of hair. “Enough to help me relax but not enough that you should feel sorry for kissing me.”

Harry may have been hornier than he’d been in years, but he wasn’t a creep. He would never take advantage of someone who was inebriated, no matter how much he wanted them. And he wanted Louis. He wanted to push him into one of the stalls in the bathroom and kiss him until their lips were bruised and their lungs ached for air. He wanted to slip to his knees and make Louis feel good, make him see stars as he came over and over again. He wanted everything Louis would give him. 

Connecting their lips once more, Harry worked his tongue into Louis’ mouth and inhaled the moan it resulted in, groaning when Louis’ hand slid down to cover his clothed erection. It jerked against his hand and he could feel Louis’ smirk. He could practically hear the teasing tone in his voice as he hummed, spit slick lips sliding together and tongues tangling. 

In Harry’s opinion, kissing was wildly underrated. So often people seemed to think it was just a precursor to sex, just an obligatory step until they could get to the good part, but Harry loved it. There was something so intimate and wonderful about kissing, though maybe he was just old fashioned. 

As he pushed Louis further into the shadows, back pressing up against the wall, he nudged his knee between the younger man’s thighs to pin him in place. Louis was hard — so hard that he was probably aching. The boy didn’t waste a second before he was rolling his hips, mewling out a pretty little groan as he got a taste of friction. “Fuck.”

Oh, Harry would love to. He’d like nothing more than to lock them both in the stalls and fuck Louis until he was a panting, writhing mess. However, he considered himself a gentleman and he wasn’t interested in making their situation any more uncomfortable by pushing things too far. 

Trapping Louis’ wrist in his hand, Harry pulled it away from his crotch, chuckling under his breath at the responding whine. Despite his eagerness, Louis went limp in his grasp, a high-pitched sound blurting from his lungs. He liked it . Fuck, Harry wasn’t sure how Louis was even real. “Good,” he panted, squeezing in approval.

With Louis pressed up against the wall and Harry’s broad frame blocking him in, the petite man jerked his hips again. Again and again, Louis rubbed himself against Harry, whimpers falling from his lips as he rode Harry’s thigh. For ages it felt like they kissed until their lips swelled and their chests heaved. Time practically stood still, the two of them getting lost in one another. 

It wasn’t until Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket that Harry snapped himself from his lust-induced haze. He jerked backwards, lips clicking as he pulled away and stared at Louis in a mixture of awe and shock. Louis was ethereal. Skin shimmered with sweat and a blush stretched from his cheeks to his neck, the very picture of Harry’s every fantasy. Harry fumbled with his phone, groaning when Louis attached his lips to his jaw, his sharp front teeth nibbling playfully. “Fuck,” he huffed at the name on his screen. “I have to go.”

Louis shook his head, lips pulling into a frown as he palmed Harry’s crotch. “No, don’t go,” he pleaded in a murmur, hips jerking against Harry’s leg as he sped up his ministrations.

God, Harry would give anything to stay here with Louis and see where this went, but he couldn’t stay. “I’m sorry, Louis. I really have to go.”

“At least let me make you feel good?”

He sounded wrecked, voice crackling and airy with his pleading. It was so tempting to shove his phone back into his pocket and ignore the text from his ex-wife, to kiss Louis forever and explore all the pretty noises that the young man could make. Louis’ fingers pressed against the bulge in his trousers, putting just the right amount of pressure against his cock that would drive him wild if he let this go on for another minute.

Harry cursed under his breath and tipped his head back. He really fucking hated Alice in that moment. “I can’t. I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay, baby. I have to go.”

He had to practically tear himself away from Louis, his chest heaving and his head fuzzy with want. With the added space between them, he could just make out a wet patch in the crotch of Louis’ sinfully tight jeans. Holy shit. Louis had gotten off against his thigh and stained his jeans. 

Fuck Alice.

The device in his hand buzzed to life again and his screen lit up. “Shit. Fucking fuck,” he groaned, frowning as he looked from his phone to the debauched man leaning against the wall. “I am so sorry,” he repeated and reached up to brush the fringe from his glassy blue eyes, the depth of his apology heavy in his gaze.

“Go,” Louis murmured. “I’ll be fine.”

Harry hated that he had to. He didn’t want to leave Louis looking like this with soiled pants and a blissed out expression but Alice only ever called when it was important. Whatever it was, she wouldn’t stop calling until Harry answered. 

With one more glance at the beautiful man in a semi-sheer t-shirt and tight jeans, Harry pressed the green button on his phone and disappeared into the crowd as he hastily made his way through the club and out the door at the main entrance. Fucking Alice.

≪ ◦ ✧ ◦ ≫

The next time Harry saw Louis, it was in yet another multi-million dollar home, settled in the suburbs of South Barrington. In his mind, he had been expecting perhaps some sort of conversation to be had over the incident of Louis humping his leg and coming in his pants or the fact that they had made out by the bathrooms at a club, but instead Louis seemed indifferent. Dressed in slacks, a sweater, and a beautiful wool coat, Louis led him around the property — the very definition of professionalism.

Call him simpleminded if you will, but Harry was having a hard time focusing on the crown molding and natural light when Louis was pretending they had never even met that night. Maybe Louis had since come to his senses and realized that Harry was too old for him or too boring — or perhaps that night over a week ago was only a blip in Louis’ memory. Either way, Harry felt wildly uncomfortable as he meandered through the old english-style home, hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers and a glib frown. 

Louis droned on and on about the architectural history of the house, clutching his tablet to his chest as he evaded eye contact with Harry. With forty-five years of life experience, Harry was typically a very confident person but with the way Louis was acting, he couldn’t help but doubt himself and wonder if that night had been so terrible that Louis was refusing to even acknowledge it. 

When they reached the kitchen, Louis finally turned to look at him, arms crossed and a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. “I feel like I need to apologize,” he mumbled, biting nervously on his bottom lip. 

Harry blinked in surprise and froze in place, hand hovering an inch from the pantry door. “For what?”

“Uhm. Well, the other night,” Louis coughed. “I was being incredibly unprofessional and it was so inappropriate of me.”

“Louis.”

“I got caught up in the moment and I should never have let my personal feelings get in the way of our professional relationship. I swear, that night will not inhibit my ability to do my job,” he continued, wringing his fingers as shifted from foot to foot.

Fondness bloomed in Harry’s chest. “Louis,” he repeated and leaned against the counter across from Louis, resting his elbows on the countertop. It was incredibly endearing to see the younger man so fidgety and nervous, his guards finally down. In a gentle voice, he murmured, “It’s okay. I’m not sure if you recall, but I didn’t exactly hate that night either.”

Upon seeing Louis’ confused expression riddled with uncertainty, Harry smiled softly and clasped his hands, twisting the rings on his fingers. “Louis, I really like you. I think you’re one of the most interesting and charming people I’ve ever met. I’ve been interested in you for weeks,” he admitted, watching the pink hue in Louis’ cheeks turn into a dark, ruddy blush. “I had a great time that night.”

“But you left,” mumbled the young man. 

“I know I did. And I’m so sorry about that, truly. I would have liked nothing more than to stay but my ex was calling me and she only calls if it’s important. It was my daughter. She was in a fender bender and was starting to panic. My ex, Alice, called me because she was out of town. If I could have stayed I would’ve.”

Louis’ head bobbed as he ducked his head. “Oh. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She was just shaken up,” Harry promised. As he rounded the counter, he felt the heavy weight of Louis’ gaze on him, following him until he stood in front of the boy. “Louis, I would really like to take you out on a date.”

In awe Louis stared up at him, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “I don’t usually make it a habit to go on dates with my clients,” he breathed.

Harry grinned, his touch light as he carefully swept a strand of hair out of Louis’ eyes. “Make an exception for me?” He asked cheekily, chuckling when Louis rolled his eyes.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Louis snorted and let Harry link their fingers together where they rested on the countertop. Finally, a shy smile crept onto those pretty pink lips of his and with his hands on his hips, Louis jut his chin out. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Of course, Harry didn’t need to be asked twice.

With a soft grin and a thundering in his chest, Harry leaned down, Louis’ cheek fitted into the palm of his hand. This time, it started slow and sweet—lips pressing gently as they explored one another. Without the encouragement of booze, Louis was shy, his hands hesitantly resting against Harry’s chest. He tasted like mint and menthols, an alluring flavor that clung to his lungs as they kissed.

Louis was soft in his hands, lips warm and cheek like the soft velvet of a peach. He hummed into the kiss and sighed contently. After a few moments, Louis pulled away, lashes fluttering as he opened his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re gay.”

The comment startled a laugh from Harry’s lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “ What ?”

“I didn’t think you were gay at first. You’re a divorced, hot , doctor dad. I thought it was too good to be true,” Louis giggled, his petite shoulders shrugging. 

Resisting the urge to smirk smugly, Harry thumbed over Louis’ bottom lip and tilted his head. “And the age gap doesn’t bother you?”

“Bother me?” Louis rolled his eyes. “If by that you mean hot and bothered then yes.”

Harry could hardly believe the words out of his mouth. He shook his head in amusement and chuckled, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Snickering, Louis nodded. “I’ve been told that a time or two. But I have just one very important question for you.” With Harry’s nod, he continued, “What do you think of the house?”

“I think you’re the prettiest feature in this house. But I don’t think it’s the right one for me.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to keep looking.”

≪ ◦ ✧ ◦ ≫

Initially Harry had struggled with where to take Louis on their date. He had considered taking the boy out for dinner at his favorite restaurant but he figured Louis frequented restaurants all the time with his other clients and he didn’t want this to feel like being at work. A movie would have worked, but it was a bit high school and none of the recent releases looked date appropriate. For hours he had sat at his laptop in his study, clicking through his various tabs of about twenty different date options.

Truthfully it had been ages since his last date. There had only been two real dates since his divorce and before that he and Alice didn’t usually go on romantic dinner dates or walks in the park. After ten years of marriage things had gotten a bit sterile between them and dates were few and far between. Twenty years ago he would have just taken Louis to see a movie and have dinner, but he wanted to make their date night fun and unique.

Eventually, Harry decided on what seemed like the perfect date. It was unusual, exciting, and would allow them to still talk but could be distracting enough that if things didn’t go well, there wouldn’t be an awkward silence. When the night of their date came two days later, Harry found himself parked outside of a high rise apartment building in downtown. Being the gentleman he was, he had wanted to go up to get Louis but the real estate broker had insisted on coming down to meet him. 

Five minutes later, Louis bounded from the grand glass front doors leading to the lobby with a wide smile on his face. He looked astoundingly good dressed in his dark green jacket and jeans so tight they should be a sin. Breathless and a bit wind-tousled, Louis scurried over to Harry’s car and hopped into the passenger seat before Harry had the chance to get out of the car and greet him or open the door for him.

“Hi,” Louis said cheerfully, fixing his messy fringe in the mirror on the visor.

Harry grinned as Louis made himself comfortable, adjusting the seat to his liking and buckling  in. “Good evening, beautiful. You look lovely. How are you?” Harry asked.

“I’m good. Excited to figure out where we’re going. You’re sure you’re not going to tell me where you’re taking me?”

“Completely,” Harry hummed with certainty. “Are you ready?”

Louis nodded and tucked his hands between his thighs, tilting his head to smile at Harry. “As I’ll ever be.”

The outside of the building was inconspicuous but the moment they walked through the front doors, Louis spun to face Harry with his mouth dropped open and his eyes wide. “You didn’t,” he laughed.

“Oh, but I did,” answered the older man, a hand resting on Louis’ lower back as he ushered him into the building. Prior to his night of date research Harry had never even heard of ax throwing, but when he had stumbled across the website it had seemed perfect. 

Louis giggled into his fingers and shook his head, wandering towards the man checking people in. “How did you know I’ve always wanted to do this?”

“Lucky guess.” Harry shrugged. 

After checking in, they were led to their lane while the worker listed off the safety rules and guidelines to follow as they walked. Harry was mostly listening but when Louis pulled off his green jacket, leaving him in just a thin t-shirt that showed off his chest tattoo, he found it increasingly difficult to pay attention to the proper hand placement on the ax. He couldn’t help it; Louis was quite possibly the prettiest man Harry had ever seen.

He seemed to know Harry was staring, smirking teasingly and cocking his hip when he picked up the ax to give it a go. Louis’ first throw resulted in the ax hitting the target backward and falling to the floor with a loud clatter. With a few more pointers from the worker, Louis went again and the blade of his ax nipped into the particle board, still not quite centered on the target but much better.

When it was his turn, Harry plucked the ax from the block next to him and weighed it in his hands to get a feel for how heavy it was.

“Oooh, I do adore a hot lumberjack,” Louis giggled from somewhere behind him. “Though, I don’t think they often wear corduroy.”

Harry snorted out a laugh, shaking his head as he took his stance. “Why do you think I brought you here? I’ve gotta show I know how to handle wood,” he joked back, bending his knees a bit like he did when he went golfing.

“Oh my god, you are such a dad.” His tone was teasing and light, playful as he watched from the sidelines. “The dad jokes are awful.”

“I think you mean awfully good,” Harry corrected with a grin and let the ax fly towards the target. It sunk into the wood with a satisfying thunk into the outer ring of the target. He turned on his heel, raising his eyebrows and grinning victoriously.

“Whatever, that’s just beginner’s luck. I’ll show you how it’s done, Doctor Styles.”

As it turned out, Louis was incredibly competitive. Filled with sassy trash talk and lots of sarcastic comments on Harry’s form, Louis not so graciously lost. It probably didn’t help that he spent most of his time with the ax wiggling his hips and finding ways to show off his ass as opposed to actually focusing on hitting the target.

By the time their two hours at the ax throwing place were up, Harry’s side hurt from laughing so hard and Louis was pink in the face and his eyes were glinting. It’s the most fun Harry’s had in years, and the night still wasn’t over. Hand in hand, Louis and Harry walked to their next destination for dinner, Harry’s warm, large hand encasing Louis’ chilly fingers — the spaces between his fingers fitting Louis’ perfectly.

The restaurant Harry had chosen was a hibachi grill located nearby and it smelled amazing from the moment they walked through the door. Though Harry had kept the ax place a secret, he was glad he had asked Louis for his opinion on places to eat. Personally, he enjoyed quieter restaurants that focused on clean eating and organic and locally sourced foods but evidently Louis hated salads, claiming they were rabbit food. Neither one of them had been to a hibachi grill but Louis had been dying to go and try it out.

They got seated at a counter along with a few other patrons and the man in the black chef coat started at once. Placing an egg on the hot skillet, their chef began spinning the white egg in circles before scooping it up and balancing it on the flat side of his spatula. He tossed it into the air without even looking to watch it and caught it once more without breaking it on his spatula. Over and over again, he tossed the egg into the air and eventually added four more eggs to his juggling act. 

As impressive as it was, Harry kept glancing over at Louis, smiling at the look of awe and intrigue written in Louis’ wide eyes and his mouth hanging open in amazement. Being this close to him, Harry could see the small scar on Louis’ upper lip, so subtle you might miss it if you weren’t looking close enough, and the delicate sweep of his dark lashes fluttering with each blink had his chest feeling too small for his beating heart. 

Two years ago, he may have been scared of that feeling bubbling up in his chest, but it had been eight years of being alone and he was ready to find someone to share his life with. The more time he spent with Louis, the more he could envision Louis fitting into his life. Though it was only their first date, Harry was confident that there would be a second and third one. He could see it in the flush of Louis’ cheeks and the bite of his teeth attempting to tamp down his smile that Louis could feel it too. 

It was the start of something great.

The chef in front of them had separated the shrimp tails from the meat and pushed the shrimp off to the side to cook while he did tricks with the tails. Clanging metal and sizzling oil brought everyone’s attention to the chef as he balanced the tails on the edge of his spatula and tossed them in the air a few times. On the fourth toss, he leaned forward and tossed the tails right into the air. Beside Harry, Louis gasped, covering his mouth and giggling when the chef caught the tails in his pocket. 

“What?” Louis asked shyly, blushing when he caught Harry staring at him. 

Harry shrugged. “Nothing much, just feeling a lot of feelings over here,” he admitted.

With a small smile, Louis reached under the table and slipped his fingers between Harry’s, bringing their joined hands to rest on his thigh. Instead of speaking, he squeezed Harry’s hand three times and turned his attention back to the show taking place in front of them. 

One by one, the chef went around the table, using his spatula to toss the small chunks of broccoli and zucchini into the mouths of the guests, telling jokes in between each trick. The whole time, Louis couldn’t stop grinning widely, giggling gleefully and practically glowing with excitement. He was clearly loving every second of it and he squirmed eagerly when the chef brought out the saké. 

When it was Harry’s turn, he opened his mouth as the chef squeezed the bottle of saké and squirted it into his mouth, a bit of the alcohol dribbling down his chin as he chuckled. The chef moved onto Louis, who was already sitting up a bit straighter and leaning forward, excited to give it a try. He too caught the stream of alcohol, grinning victoriously when he didn’t spill a single drop. 

“Very nice,” the chef praised through a thick accent before turning away and moving onto the next dish. 

Louis leaned close, his breath tickling Harry’s ear as he whispered, “Maybe later I’ll show you just how good I am at catching things in my mouth. I’ll even swallow.”

Into his glass of water, Harry sputtered, eyes going wide as he looked over at the smirking boy sitting beside him. Christ, Louis might actually be the death of him. He stared at the cheeky young man, shaking his head as he laughed into his glass. 

The chef plated their food when he was finished and bowed his head before he left. As they tucked into their food, Harry felt a hand rest on his thigh, dangerously high for such a public place. 

A glance at Louis showed the broker poking at his food with a sly smirk, attempting to act innocent as he dragged his fingers up Harry’s inseam. “Louis,” Harry muttered in warning, arousal shooting through his veins as he stared at the boy.

“Yes, Doctor Styles?” Louis hummed and smiled prettily, batting his eyes.

“What are you doing?” 

Louis frowned, pretending to be puzzled and leaning his elbow on the table to lean closer. “Whatever do you mean?” His fingers just barely brushed against Harry’s clothed cock, sending a jolt through Harry’s entire body.

“Louis,” Harry hissed, knee jerking as he dropped his chopsticks. Luckily, the clatter went unnoticed by the other patrons, the sound getting lost amidst the noise of the chefs clanging their spatulas on the metal grill tops. Had they been in a quieter restaurant, he’s sure someone would have noticed the way his hand slapped the surface of their table and his eyes had gone wide.

“Yes?”

Lowly, he murmured under his breath, “Behave.”

The command sent a shiver down Louis’ spine, drawing the quietest of whimpers from his parted lips. “I will,” he breathed. If Harry wasn’t mistaken, the blue rings on his eyes shrunk as his eyes dilated and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

Oh , Harry realized, blinking in surprise as Louis squirmed in his seat. With one quick glance down at Louis’ lap, he realized that Louis was hard. Right there, in the middle of the restaurant, Louis was sporting a hard on. He looked delectable, a blushing, wide-eyed, breathless boy who couldn’t sit still with how much he wanted attention. The image went straight to his cock, just beginning to chub up when he draped his arm over the back of Louis’ chair and smoothed his hand down the boy’s arm. “Patience, baby. I’ll give you what you want when we’re done,” he whispered in Louis’ ear.

With his lower lip pouting out, Louis nodded reluctantly and removed his hand from Harry’s lap. He tried in vain to hide his excitement but the poor man couldn’t help but fidget in his seat, hurriedly scooping up his fried rice and jiggling his leg — as if he couldn’t eat fast enough. The sight was the strangest mix of arousing and endearing that Harry was struggling to keep his eyes off of. 

They definitely weren’t going to finish their food.

As soon as they had eaten most of their food, Harry placed a hand gently on the back of Louis’ neck — instantly feeling the man’s body go rigid under his touch before relaxing into his firm hold. Fuck, he was that kind of bottom. It was beyond tempting to drag their dinner on even longer but he was fairly certain that Louis would either get so hard that he couldn’t get up without the whole restaurant knowing he was aroused or he would give up on waiting and take matters into his own hands. 

“Are you ready to go?” Harry asked, keeping his voice low and rubbing his thumb over the side of Louis’ neck.

“Yes,” Louis blurted easily, cheeks going dark.

Mind whirling with possibilities and his pants feeling ever so slightly tighter than they had at the beginning of their meal, Harry squeezed lightly and patted Louis’ back. “Up you go,” he murmured. Discretely, Harry adjusted himself and held his hand out for Louis to take. Louis seemed a bit weak in the knees when he slid from his chair, gratefully taking Harry’s hand with a small smile. 

Although Louis had to hold his jacket in front of him to hide the slight bulge in his jeans, the two made it out of the restaurant without anyone looking twice at them. Harry was cursing himself now for parking so far from the restaurant — though it did give him the opportunity to chuckle fondly over Louis trying to keep up with him on shorter legs. As they hurried to Harry’s car, he battled the overwhelming temptation to simply fuck Louis in the back seat of his car or to be a gentleman and drive him back to his condo before ravishing him.

In the end, Louis made up his mind for him. The moment they got back to the car, he hooked his fingers around the collar of Harry’s button-up and tugged him in for a kiss, not even bothering with hiding inside the car. With a whimpered plea, Louis moved his lips eagerly against Harry’s and quickly tongued into his mouth, nearly pushing Harry over with his excitement. 

The boy in his arms was practically vibrating with need, pressing their chests together and mewling when he couldn’t get close enough. “ Please ,” he whined, tugging on Harry’s shirt. “Need you.”

Harry groaned, crowding Louis against the side of the Rolls Royce and bracing his hand against the door to keep them both upright. Heat coiled in his gut, coursing through him with each press of Louis’ lips against his own. Torn between desperate to touch and possessive, Harry sheltered Louis from prying eyes, his overprotective side coming out in full force with the need to keep the image of Louis writhing and needy all to himself.

“Get in the car,” he grunted.

He didn’t need to tell Louis twice. The smaller man fumbled behind his back for the door of the car, eyes flicking to their surroundings. They were parked between a minivan and an old Volkswagen in a quiet parking lot, not a single pedestrian in sight, but if Harry couldn’t get his lips on Louis in the next ten seconds he might just burn up with the blaze of lust consuming him. 

Louis crawled into the back of the car, pupils blown and lips pink and puffy already as he beckoned Harry in. It was impressive, Harry thought, that he managed to crawl in after Louis without hurting his bad knee, though it may have just been the adrenaline. Louis was a vision in his rumpled t-shirt and tight jeans — the definition of erotic as he rolled his hips against nothing but air. “Need it,” he whined. 

Drawn into Louis’ orbit like the moon to the earth, Harry was powerless to the pleading boy. He knelt between Louis’ spread thighs and dove down for a kiss, breathing out through his nose harshly when Louis sank his fingers into the curls at the base of his neck and pulled. “ Baby .”

“Fuck me,” Louis panted, canting his hips up against Harry’s. 

Fuck, Harry wanted to. He really really wanted to, but he didn’t want the first time he finally had Louis to be in the back of his car like some desperate kids. “Tell you what,” he breathed, dragging his lips from Louis’ mouth, across his cheek, and down his neck. “Because you were so good, I’ll help you come once here and then again when we get back to mine.”

Beneath him, Louis keened, snapping his head up and down in a nod as he licked his lips. “Yes, please. Want it,” he agreed easily. With his legs wrapped around Harry’s waist and his fingers carded into his curls, he ground his hips against Harry’s and moaned.

How someone as beautiful, adorable, and alluring as Louis could even be possible, Harry hadn’t a clue. 

Lips attached to the fluttering pulse in Louis’ neck, Harry tongued at the salty flesh and nipped playfully. The shudder that rippled through Louis’ body had him smirking against slick skin. Already, the boy was on edge and writhing and Harry hadn’t even really begun to touch him yet. God he could already imagine what Louis was going to be like when he actually got his hands on him.

Ever since that night in the club he’d been thinking about having Louis just like this, spread out and gagging for it — though he’d much prefer if Louis was naked. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. Sliding his hand beneath Louis, Harry grabbed a handful of his ass, shaking his head in awe. “Your ass is ridiculous.”

Plump, round, and warm, Louis’ right cheek fit perfectly in his hand. He squeezed, massaging the thick flesh in his hands and biting a dark mark into the skin at the juncture of Louis’ neck and shoulder. The idea of one of Louis’ other clients seeing it and knowing that Louis was taken, that he was Harry’s, sent a thrill like a bolt of electricity through him. 

“For fuck’s sake, Harry,” Louis hissed, tugging lightly at his curls. “If you don’t touch me in the next ten sec—” His mouth fell open and head tipped back in shock when Harry roughly grabbed onto his hips, forcing them to be still as he pinned them against the seat.

The realization that Louis liked to be held down and manhandled dawned on Harry as he watched the sassy little thing below him immediately fall pliant under his hands. Shit. 

“You’re so needy,” Harry mumbled, more in wonderment than actual irritation.

With Louis being so good for him, he thought it only right that he reward him by covering the line of his prick with his large, broad hand and grinding the heel of his palm down, finally giving Louis the friction he had been asking for. Below him, Louis whined and bit harshly at his bottom lip. “You gonna come in your pants again, baby? Make a mess because you’re too excited?” Harry was shocked at his own voice, the normally deep husk of his tone even deeper, coming out more as a guttural, throaty growl. 

As he rubbed tight circles with his palm, he could sense the tension Louis was holding in his body, as if he were trying with every ounce of strength he possessed to not grind up into Harry’s hand and take what he wanted. He was being so good. 

If Harry had all the time in the world, he would slowly ease Louis’ jeans down his legs and take his time to kiss every inch of his body until Louis was a whining, sweaty, shivering mess under him. But he would really prefer to do that in the comfort of his bed at home and Louis looked about two seconds away from coming already, so he popped the button of Louis’ jeans and tugged them down just enough to grab his cock.

Louis was hot and slippery with precum in his hand, his prick a lovely shade of deep pink that Harry could write poems about if he were a writing man. The high-pitched gasp falling from Louis’ equally beautiful pink lips spurred Harry onwards, thumbing at the slit and listening to the whimper it elicited. 

As did everything else about Louis, his dick seemed just the right size — a bit smaller than Harry’s own cock and curved just slightly upwards. It was pretty and Harry had never thought that he would find a dick to be pretty. Using his thumb and forefinger, Harry made a loose ring and tugged a few times, watching Louis bite and roll his bottom lip between his teeth as his hands gripped the back seat of Harry’s car. 

Harry vowed to himself that as soon as they returned to his condo, he would take the opportunity to explore every sound Louis was capable of making and lavish him with the attention he deserved. For now, he fisted Louis’ prick and twisted his wrist with a flick at the head, pulling a long and desperate moan from the younger man. 

“Hurry,” Louis begged as he arched his back and kicked out a leg, squeezing his eyes shut. “M close.”

“Yeah? You gonna come where anyone can see you? Getting off on it, aren’t you?” Speeding up the motions of his hand, Harry leaned down and mouthed at the rabbiting pulse in Louis’ neck. It was incredible to feel Louis’ heart rate increase and his breaths quicken with each twist of his hand, taking in every noise and whimpered plea as Louis came with a shout. Cum painted their chests and soiled their shirts, but Harry was only mildly disappointed that one of his favorite shirts would have to be sent to the dry cleaners as soon as possible to avoid ruining it. He would imagine it would be hard for anyone to be upset when they had a boy as beautiful and breathtaking as Louis panting as his body quivered with euphoria beneath them. 

In that moment, Harry was positive that he was the luckiest man in the world.

With his hand streaked with spunk, Harry softly brushed his thumb over Louis’ ruddy cheek and inhaled sharply when two eyes as blue as robin's eggs blinked up at him. The breath in his lungs felt like it had been knocked out of him, practically frozen as Louis gazed up at him like the embodiment of sunshine. For a moment, Harry couldn’t do more than stare, completely entranced. 

“H?” Louis murmured in brittle exhaustion, poking Harry’s cheek. “You good?”

“Yeah. ‘M good.” Harry tore his gaze from Louis and winced as he shifted his weight off his bad knee.

Louis frowned and propped himself up on his elbows, chest still heaving and his eyes a little hazy in his post-orgasmic fever. “You’re hurt.”

With a shrug, Harry slipped off his button up, leaving him in a fitted tank top tucked into his trousers and tossed it on the floor. “It’s just my knee,” he sighed. “Perks of getting old.” He hated to admit it, but he wasn’t as indestructible as he had once felt — waking up with odd cricks in his neck from a new pillow or stiff joints on cold winter days.

The boy scoffed, rolling his eyes and tugging Harry in for another kiss, gentler this time. “You’re not old.”

“I feel like I’m old.”

“I’ve seen older,” Louis yawned dismissively and pulled his sticky shirt off his skin with a wrinkled nose. “Can we go back to yours?”

On the drive back to Harry’s condo, Louis hummed softly under his breath, tapping his fingers on the center console and bobbing his head to the music. After a few moments Harry reached over and tangled their fingers together with a small smile, fondness blooming in his chest. 

It wasn’t long after they arrived at Harry’s that Louis had rid himself of his cumstained shirt and the two found themselves tripping over themselves on  their way to Harry’s bedroom to fulfill Harry’s promise of two orgasms. Louis was back to his eager, clingy self as he wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist and ground their naked cocks together, whining in the back of his throat. Harry already had two fingers tucked between Louis’ cheeks, scissoring him open and gladly swallowing the filthy noises falling from the boy’s mouth with each press of his digits. 

Now that he had Louis naked, Harry could see just how gorgeous he was — all soft skin, smooth curves, and tan all over. He was practically drooling gazing up at Louis, lower lip tucked between his teeth and blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to shove back onto Harry’s fingers and grind against Harry’s cock. Harry was amazed by how insatiable he was. It had barely been twenty minutes and already Louis was hard and aching for it, thighs spread as he straddled Harry. 

Ideally, Harry would have enjoyed pinning Louis to his bed and fucking him until he forgot his own name, but after watching Harry stiffly walk up the stairs and wince more than once with his shotty knee, Louis had insisted on riding him instead. 

“Fuck,” Louis whimpered, hands braced against Harry’s chest. “Hurry up, want you inside.”

The sharp crack of Harry’s palm smacking his ass had Louis’ mouth falling open, eyes going wide before they rolled back in his head. “Patience, doll,” he grunted and curled his middle and ring fingers, just barely brushing over the little nub that made Louis arch his back obscenely and gasp. “Need you nice and stretched open for me.”

Had he not been drunk on dick, Harry was pretty sure Louis would have pouted or had some sassy retort ready, but with Harry’s fingers inside him and a slowly darkening handprint staining his fleshy thigh, Louis didn’t do much but moan needily and roll his hips. Taking his time, Harry gradually worked from two fingers to three, stretching Louis out and basking in the beautiful noises he was making. With his other hand, he rubbed soothingly over the heated red mark on his thigh, marveling at the soft skin of the boy.

‘How was he real? How had he stumbled upon this angel and been deemed worthy of his beauty?’ Harry wondered, skating his palm up over Louis’ thigh and over the curve of his hip, goosebumps rising in its wake. This boy belonged in a museum, carved into perfect marble and encapsulated forever. He guided Louis in with a firm hand on his back and caught his lips in a heated kiss, sloppy and warm as he licked over Louis’ bottom lip. 

Into Harry’s mouth, Louis keened — his smaller hands resting on Harry’s pecs and short, sharp nails digging into his skin. “H, ‘m stretched enough. I can take it,” he promised and clenched around the digits spreading him open. 

Finally, Harry nodded. “Alright, pet. Hold on for just a tick,” he murmured. 

Louis whined when Harry extracted his fingers and wrinkled his nose, looking adorably like a disgruntled kitten as he waited impatiently for Harry to grab a condom from his nightstand. It was a miracle Harry even still had them, considering how slow his sex life had been recently, but a quick glance at the expiration date printed on the box showed they were still good. 

From his perch in Harry’s lap Louis shifted, searching for a taste of sweet friction with a small noise of impatience. He was being so good, waiting as patiently as he could and being so beautifully obedient. “Such a good boy, Lou. Tell me what you want,” Harry encouraged, taking a moment to smooth his hand over the man’s hip affectionately. 

“Rough,” Louis breathed, licking his lips as he stared at Harry’s hand sliding the condom over his length. 

“How rough? Wanna know so I don’t do anything you don’t like, yeah?”

The boy nodded, fingers twitching as if in temptation to reach out and touch. Harry wanted him to, wanted to fuck Louis until he couldn’t remember his own name and leave memories bruised into his skin but this conversation was important. “Um, want you to make me take it. I like being, y’know, dominated and taken care of,” Louis said quietly, picking at a hangnail shyly. 

Ignoring the tightness in his chest from fondness bubbling up, Harry lightly gripped the base of his cock to take the edge off, nodding as he gazed at Louis. “I can do that, but you need to tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah? Say stop and I will immediately.”

“Okay,” the boy whispered and lowered his gaze. “Can I?”

With a small smirk, Harry nodded and handed over the bottle of lube. “You wanna get me ready to ruin you? Gonna take it good for me?”

The shiver that skittered under Louis’ skin sent goosebumps rising over the flesh of his arms and legs, his small pink nipples pebbling with the thrill of it. “Uh huh. I will, I promise,” the words were exhaled breathily, like Louis wasn’t fully aware of what he was saying as he sat up a little straighter and drizzled a healthy squirt of lube over Harry’s cock. He’d never quite forget the first time Louis’ hands wrapped around him, how small they looked in comparison and how in awe Louis had looked at it. Like a dog being offered a treat, Louis swallowed thickly and eyed him eagerly — savoring the weight of Harry’s dick in his hand. 

In slow drags Louis slicked him up, breaths coming in short puffs and his chest heaving already. Harry vaguely registered the blaring of a car alarm from somewhere below them on the street, but his main focus was on the petite boy with pretty blue eyes and lips so kissable it drove him mad. Louis froze the second Harry’s hand wrapped around his wrist, the sheer difference in their size sending a wave of prickling heat down both their spines. 

“That’s enough. Are you ready for me, darling?”

Messy brown fringe fell into Louis’ eyes as he nodded quickly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip and his dick bobbing with the jerk of his hips. “Yeah, ‘m ready. So ready.”

“Good,” Harry murmured. “Go ahead, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

He watched with a heavy gaze as Louis shuffled forward on his knees, loosely gripping Harry at the base of his cock. Furrowing his brow, Louis stuck his tongue between his teeth in concentration and wiggled back until the head of Harry’s dick nudged against his taint. He only wished he could feel Louis’ heat, the wet slip of lube, and the brush of skin against skin as Louis lowered himself slowly onto his cock — condoms be damned.

Louis was tight around him, squeezing him like a vice with every inch he consumed. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he had someone as beautiful and wonderful as Louis in his bed and he certainly didn’t think that anyone else had felt this good . By the time Louis’ ass was pressed against his pelvis, the boy was quaking above him, his lips parted in a silent groan and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Talk to me, baby,” Harry grit out, fingertips dancing over the flesh of Louis’ thighs bracketing his hips. He was so soft. “Wanna know what you’re feeling.”

Above him, Louis exhaled shakily, clenching with a whimper when he saw the slight distended curve of his belly where Harry’s dick was nestled. “F-full,” he wheezed. “You’re fucking huge. Christ .” The joke was right there, on the very tip of his tongue when Louis narrowed his eyes and wagged his finger at him. “Don’t you dare say what I know you’re thinking,” he muttered.

“Actually, it’s just Ha — ow,” Harry laughed, wincing when Louis tweaked one of his nipples. 

“Told you not to say it.”

Of course, Harry couldn’t help but grin fondly, the mood momentarily shifting to something lighter as he swatted Louis’ hand from his chest. “Be nice, I thought you were gonna be my good boy.”

“I was until you tried to make a terrible joke — I’m disappointed, really,” Louis sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought you were better than that.”

They were getting a bit derailed but Harry smiled anyway, snaking his hand up Louis’ side and pulling him down to kiss him. He tasted of saké and cherry chapstick, his lips pillowy and sweet against Harry’s own. The quick movement startled a gasp from Louis’ lungs as Harry shifted inside him and he clenched down tightly, hands scrabbling for a handhold on Harry’s chest. “Fuck,” he whimpered.

Right, they were in the middle of something, Harry remembered. Using Louis’ brief lapse in sass, he threaded his fingers through the soft shag of his hair and pulled gently. “Be a doll and get on with it, would you? I don’t like having my time wasted.”

Louis shivered and nodded his head, falling back into his role and surrendering to Harry’s grip on the back of his neck. His lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones in the lowlight of the evening, fluttering as he rolled his hips experimentally. “Oh,” he breathed. “S good.”

Harry was inclined to agree — inhaling deeply as the tight heat encompassing him bore down, thumbing at the crease of Louis’ hip and thigh. His chest heaved when Louis lifted himself, thick thighs quivering beneath Harry’s hands before dropping himself down. The younger man started slow, letting himself get accustomed to the girth inside him and building up a steady rhythm to his hip movements. 

All the while, Harry gazed at him openly, shamelessly exploring the expanse of skin displayed in the evening light, hands skating over Louis’ soft tummy, pink nipples, and tracing the shape of his tattoos. Harry himself only had two tattoos, a cross on his hand and an anchor tattoo his kids had teased him mercilessly about but seeing Louis covered in artwork made him wonder if maybe he should get another one.  

With a sharp twist of his hips, Louis keened high in his throat and braced his hands on Harry’s abdomen, nails digging into the skin there. His dick bobbed with each swivel of his hips, the head a deep red as precum beaded at the tip. With one hand, Harry thumbed over Louis’ pert pink nipples and trailed a finger up the length of Louis’ prick with the other, smirking at the tremble it elicited. 

“You look so good up there, honey,” Harry drawled, speech lower and a bit more slurred than usual. “Think you belong there, don’t you?”

Above him, Louis whined with a jerky nod of his head, dick twitching. “Yeah, belong on your cock,” he panted. His boyish feathery fringe was flopping over his forehead, wet at the ends with sweat and sticking to his shimmering skin. 

He did belong. He belonged in Harry’s bed, filled with his cum, and sheltered in the protective embrace of Harry’s arms. It was an intimidating thought to have so early on, but really, Harry didn’t think he could be blamed for thinking such a thing about a boy as wonderful as Louis. 

Harry smiled despite himself and pressed his hand into the small of Louis’ back, pushing the younger man further onto his cock as he shifted to prop himself up and pulled Louis in for another open-mouthed kiss. Louis’ whimpers and moans were muffled, hot breath fanning over Harry’s lips. He paused only for a moment to readjust before lifting himself once more and grinding back down. Greedily, Harry took everything Louis would give him, hands wandering over his body and tongue probing into his mouth. 

Hand loosely wrapped around Louis’ prick, Harry testingly smacked the fleshy globe of Louis’ ass, parting their lips to breathe, “That okay?” He hardly even needed to ask when Louis’ head had tipped back in pleasure and his fingers dug into Harry’s chest, but he wanted to hear it anyway. 

Louis moaned. With an eager nod and roll of his hips, Louis lifted a hand to rest on the back of Harry’s head, knotting his fingers in the graying curls. “Harder,” he whined. 

This boy was going to be the death of him. 

“Such a filthy boy, aren’t you?” Harry leaned forward, smoothing his hand over Louis’ cheek as he mouthed at the tattoo inked into his collarbone and trailed his lips to his right pec. “Made to just take it. Made to be dominated and spanked.”

“F’you, only f’you,” Louis breathed, hips stuttering when two lips wrapped around his nipple and a hand smacked his ass harder than the first time. “ Fuck .”

It was a bit awkward to keep up with Louis’ pace, smacking his ass and scraping his teeth over the firm bud in his mouth, but it was worth it to get to witness the way Louis absolutely fell apart in his grasp. Breaths came in shorter and his hips jerked in small circles, eventually giving up on properly riding him for the sake of grinding down and feeling Harry’s length shift inside him. 

Eventually, Harry switched to the other nipple, considering it a crime that only one received the attention he thought Louis deserved, and glanced up at Louis. At his age he should probably have been concerned with the way his heart felt as though it skipped a beat at the vision that was Louis Tomlinson. He was practically glowing, light from Harry’s lamp radiating off the sheen of sweat gathered on his chest, cheekbones, and the curve of his nose and the beautiful pink flush of his lips and cheeks might just be Harry’s new favorite color. With lips parted and eyes daintily closed, Louis looked like an angel. 

“Harry,” the boy breathed, his mouth open and his brows pinched together as Harry’s fingers brushed over the head of his cock. “‘M close.”

Finally, Harry disconnected his lips and nodded. “Let go, doll. You’ve been such a good boy for me, making me feel so good. Show me how pretty you look when you come,” he whispered. 

With Harry’s hand wrapped around his prick and cock filling him perfectly, Louis rode Harry until his hip movements grew sloppy and he couldn’t seem to form proper words. He yelped, grip in Harry’s curls tightening as his abs flinched and his whole body trembled, cum spurting from his dick and the most beautiful noises falling from candy-stained lips. 

Harry’s hands fell to Louis’ hips and he planted his feet on the bed — taking over because he just couldn’t help himself and he loved seeing and hearing Louis falling apart on top of him. He used the leverage to thrust up into Louis as the younger man rode out his orgasm. Pistoning his thrusts up and into the boy, Harry grit his teeth and furrowed his brow, chest heaving as he chased his own pleasure. With four more snaps of his hips, Harry came with a grunt, shoving his cock as deep as he could before shooting into the condom. 

It was euphoria, adrenaline tingling in his veins and fireworks crackling in his ears — pure bliss filling him completely as Louis fell on top of him. It should have been uncomfortable to have the dead weight of someone else pressing down on him and sweat and cum mixing on their chests but it didn’t. It felt perfect.

Panting heavily and chest heaving, Harry caressed the sweaty skin of Louis’ lower back, wrapping a possessive, muscular arm around his tiny waist. The room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing and muted drone of the city life below but Louis didn’t seem to mind. He nuzzled closer to Harry, wrinkling his nose when Harry eased himself out of Louis and carefully pulled off the condom. “Hate that feeling,” he slurred quietly.

“M sorry, honey. Let me grab you a rag and clean up,” Harry murmured but froze when Louis frowned and clung to him.

“No, stay with me. I just wanna cuddle. Can shower later.”

He looked beyond sweet, blinking sleepily as he nestled into Harry’s warmth and yawned. It would have been impossible for Harry to ever turn him down as cute as he was, so Harry nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Alright, baby, we can shower later.”

Louis hummed softly, smiling as he trailed a finger down the center of Harry’s chest. “Did you know you have gray in your chest hair?”

“I do?” Harry asked in surprise, furrowing his brow as he looked down at where Louis was pointing. “Getting old sucks.”

With a roll of his eyes, Louis turned to lay on his tummy and rested his chin on Harry’s sternum. “It’s sexy,” he promised with a small smirk. “My sexy silver fox.”

The age thing had been a concern of Harry’s at first, considering there was a good twenty years between them but it didn’t seem to be an issue. Louis actually liked it — and not in a fetish kind of way. He nudged his lips against Harry’s chest and slung an arm over him, settling into the mattress with a sigh of contentment.

Harry quite liked that, being Louis’, and he found himself sliding his fingers through the boy’s messy hair, wondering what it would be like to return the sentiment. His beautiful boy. It had a nice ring to it.

⋘ ✣ ⋙

The first few months of a relationship had always been Harry’s favorite. It was all about learning — studying what made the other person smile, what made them mad, and what made them laugh so hard their eyes watered. Learning Louis was like being drawn further and further into a good book. He was utterly fascinating to get to know and every day Harry felt his fondness for the young man grow. 

He learned that Louis hated black coffee and would much rather have tea. If he were to drink coffee, he enjoyed it iced with plenty of sugar and caramel — though he vehemently denied that he liked the complicated coffee drinks from Starbucks. He found out a few weeks into their dates that Louis had a roommate which is why they never ended up spending time at his place, and that he was much messier than Harry would have expected. His favorite color was blue, his favorite smell was bergamot, and he liked TV shows more than movies. 

Among the things Harry had discovered about Louis was that Louis really enjoyed giving head. He found any and all opportunities to have Harry’s cock in his mouth, often sinking to his knees in semi public spaces like the bathroom at a bar or in front of the windows at Harry’s condo with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye — his nose buried in neatly trimmed hair before he had a chance to even utter a single word.

Harry had never had so much action in his entire life. He still didn’t know how the boy was real or how he had gotten so lucky to find someone who not only enjoyed but sought out ways to get Harry to dominate him. The first time Louis had sunk to his knees in the middle of the kitchen in one of the homes he was showing, Harry had been convinced he was going to have an aneurysm. 

The sex was great — perfect even — but the best part, in Harry’s opinion, was what happened after. He had learned the night of their first date that Louis turned soft and sleepy after sex, always cuddling into Harry’s arms and humming happily when Harry would play with his hair. For hours, the two would lay together and spill their secrets into the night with voices hardly above a whisper. 

For as much as he enjoyed the physical aspect of their relationship, it was Louis’ personality that held Harry’s affection. He never ceased to amaze Harry with how different he was to Alice. Louis didn’t care about things like designer handbags or the newest and latest celebrity gossip — he was laid back and easy going, making any day a good day as far as Harry was concerned. 

As spring turned to summer, their connection grew deeper and although they hadn’t explicitly discussed it, Harry had come to think of Louis as his boyfriend and he was fairly sure the sentiment was mutual. They kept things casual, spending plenty of time together between house showings and late nights spent at Harry’s condo, and neither one of them had really announced their relationship. Maybe it was out of fear of messing things up, but Harry worried about their relationship changing as soon as they began telling people.

For now, he was more than happy to soak in the bliss of their new relationship and enjoy every minute spent with his boy.

This time of year in Chicago was absolutely gorgeous. While the winters were typically miserably cold and drizzly, it was summers when the city came alive with the colors of freshly bloomed flowers and the hustle and bustle of tourists covering every inch of the streets. Harry didn’t mind the noise and clatter, but after a long day he craved the quiet serenity of the rolling hills. 

Sweat beaded on his brow and sun glinted off his driver as he crouched, setting his golf ball on the tee. As he looked out over the hill — miles of lush green and manicured fairways as far as the eye could see — he inhaled the smell of freshly cut grass and exhaled slowly, bending his knees slightly. He bounced his knees and readjusted his grip on the club before swinging his driver, breathing evenly as he watched the bright yellow ball sail through the air. 

“Not bad, Styles. We might have to have you join us for the tournament next month,” his golfing buddy chuckled, patting Harry on the back as he pulled his golf ball from his golf bag.

It was one of the warmest days they’d had in Illinois all summer and Harry was feeling it, the back of his polo sticking to his spine, and he couldn’t wait until he got home so he could shower off the film of sweat clinging to him. Harry shrugged and lifted his baseball cap, combing his damp waves back before pulling his hat back on. “I’m not so sure about that, Rob. Are you sure you want to give up your trophy this year?” He chuckled.

“I very much doubt you’ll be taking home first place,” Robert scoffed and bent to place his ball on the tee while Harry handed his club to the caddy. “You may be good, but you’re not that good.”

Harry was actually quite good at golfing — dare he say even somewhat of a seasoned golfer — but being the modest man that he was, he simply shrugged and pulled a lolli from his golf bag, unwrapping the mango-flavored DumDum and popping it in his mouth. “Luckily, I’m a better doctor than I am a golfer,” Harry chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched Robert’s backswing.

Robert said something Harry didn’t quite catch, distracted by a buzzing in his pocket. As he pulled it out to check if it was the hospital, he smiled upon seeing Louis’ name on his lock screen. Whenever Louis was staying at his place, he spent most of his time sending cute pictures of Meredith or screenshots of various trinkets he was thinking of buying. 

Lately, Louis had been on a bit of a plant kick, which Harry thought was hilarious considering Louis would somehow manage to kill even a fake plant and every time he brought home a plant Harry was the one who had to keep it alive. Expecting to see yet another screenshot of a fiddly fig tree or a monstera plant, Harry opened the chat bubble pinned to the top of his messages and instinctively clamped his teeth down on the dumdum and shattered it when, instead of a houseplant, a picture of a plump, round, fuckable ass greeted him.

He stared at the picture with wide eyes, eating up every inch of exposed skin the picture revealed. It looked to be taken in his bathroom at the condo, Louis’ red Adidas shorts rolled down so the waistband bunched beneath the swell of his ass — lifting his smooth, voluptuous cheeks. Fuck, he looked so good. Harry was drooling, and whether that be from the shards of mango candy dancing on his tongue or the mouth-watering sight of Louis’ perfect ass was Harry’s own business. But it was definitely the latter. 

“So, how’s it going with Louis?” Robert asked, as if knowing what Harry was looking at. 

“Uhh,” Harry stammered, drawing a blank as he struggled momentarily to find words as Louis sent him yet another picture, this time of him spreading his cheeks and showing off that perfect pink ring of muscle between his cheeks. “Good. He’s great.”

Robert nodded and lined up to take his next shot. “I told you he was good. He’s one of the best in the business — very professional and accomplished for his age. I couldn’t believe he managed to find me the perfect house in only two weeks.”

Right, professional , Harry thought to himself, his gaze locked on the pictures as he hummed absently. The photos didn’t show Louis’ face, only the slope of his back and two round cheeks, but Harry could imagine that Louis was rather pleased with himself and was probably anxiously awaiting a reply. 

A hand clapped down on his shoulder, snapping him from his reverie and bringing him back to reality. Harry quickly locked his phone to hide the risque photos of his lover and cleared his throat, his cock half hard and the back of his neck prickling. 

“He’s not too bad on the eyes either, is he?”

The comment had Harry bristling, lips curving into a slight frown as together they walked towards the golf cart. 

Robert continued on, waving his hand dismissively, “Not that I’m into men or anything, but objectively speaking he’s a very good looking guy. Nice ass.”

“Right, well,” Harry coughed, shoving his phone into his pocket with the mental promise to make Louis pay for sending him nudes when he was out with a coworker. “Did you watch the game last night? I thought for sure the Cubs were toast until the fifth inning. They really pulled it out in the end, don’t you think?”

“Oh man, no kidding,” Robert laughed, thankfully moving on as they rode down the hill. Harry had learned a long time ago that Robert was probably the biggest Cubs fan he’d ever met and if he ever didn’t want to talk about something, he could easily distract Rob by chatting about the most recent game. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry’s focus had waned and he couldn’t stop thinking about those two little pictures waiting for him in his messages, just sitting there — tempting him. He ended up tanking and Robert wouldn’t let it go, joking and teasing him over his frazzled demeanor every time he took a horrible shot. By the end of the round, he was more than ready to return home. 

After parking his car, Harry attempted to coolly walk through the lobby of his building, his stomach twisting in excitement and anticipation fizzling through his blood. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor, tapping his fingers anxiously on the rail as he counted the numbers going up to his floor. The elevator ride felt like it took forever, but finally he stood outside his condo and pulled out his keys.

Behind him, the heavy wooden door of his condo closed with a click and Harry could hear the muted murmur of the TV from his living room. Golf clubs in tow, Harry wandered into the living room and was met with the infuriatingly beautiful sight of his boy sprawled out on his couch, wearing the same red Adidas shorts from the photo and a joint pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He looked magnificent, the smooth golden skin of his tummy exposed from his lack of shirt and soft fringe flopped over his eyes. 

“Hey,” Louis greeted indifferently, hardly looking up from the television as he gently stroked Meredith’s soft fur where she was curled up in his lap. There was a faint smirk toying at the corners of his lips as he took another hit, smoke curling from strawberry pink lips. He knows. Christ, the younger man knew exactly what he had done and from his poor attempt to look disinterested, he was expecting Harry to punish him. 

“Louis,” Harry hummed, his voice low and deep as he set his golf gear down at the end of the couch. “Look at me.”

A shiver skittered under Louis’ skin from his shoulders to his toes as he looked up from the screen and his breath visibly caught in his chest. He wanted it. And, well, Harry was never one to neglect his boy of what he wanted. Wide blue eyes met his and he could tell Louis was excited by the way he sat up a little straighter and his hands balled into fists. Oh this was going to be fun.

They’d come to learn how to help one another slip into their respective roles by choosing the right words, tone of voice, and body language and Harry could tell by the look in Louis’ eye and the scrunching of his shoulders that Louis was looking to be dominated — to feel submissive and be taken care of. 

Crossing his arms, Harry pursed his lips and stared at Louis expectantly. For a few moments, Louis blinked at him and bit his lip in uncertainty before Harry sighed and shook his head. “Come here,” he ordered, having to bite back his fond smile when Louis instantly lurched to attention and carefully placed Meredith on the couch. “On your knees, baby.”

Ever the obedient boy, Louis sank to his knees as soon as he got close and waited for Harry to tell him what to do, hands clasped prettily in his lap and his chest rising and falling with every deep breath. Harry’s heart ached proudly for how good Louis was being, a bubble of affection creeping up his throat. 

“Good boy,” he murmured, gently brushing his fingers through Louis’ hair.

Louis looked up at him with a frown. “You never texted me back.”

Harry sighed and patted Louis’ cheek a bit rougher than necessary, all part of the careful game they played. “I didn’t text you back because I didn’t think I had to tell my little attention slut back home that I was busy golfing with a friend. Do you want to tell me why you sent such a filthy picture to me? What if someone had seen it? Is that what you wanted, for one of the caddies or maybe Robert to see your ass?” Beautiful blue eyes disappeared behind fluttering lashes as Louis whimpered and shrugged his shoulders. “You want everyone to know how filthy you are?”

Louis frowned and looked up at Harry, furrowing his brows. “‘M only filthy for you,” he promised. 

Harry smiled and nodded. “I know, darling. You just wanted some attention, didn’t you? My needy little toy,” he cooed, brushing his thumb over the curve of Louis’ brow.

“Please, H, want your cock.”

There it was. 

“If you want it, then you need to prove it. You’ve gotta work for it, love,” Harry reminded and placed his hands on his hips. 

“I want it,” Louis was quick to respond, licking his lips as he gazed up at Harry. “I’ll show you, please?” It took a nod from the older man before Louis lifted trembling fingers and hurried to get Harry’s bright blue golf pants unbuttoned, fumbling over himself in an effort to get his mouth on him.

Harry watched in amusement as Louis glared at his zipper like it had personally offended him, tugging the fly of his pants open and exhaling sharply when Harry’s half hard cock bobbed free. He’d been in a limbo between horny and frustrated ever since he’d caught a glimpse of that photo and with his boy readily on his knees to take Harry’s cock, his arousal was kicking into high gear once more.

Louis’ Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips in preparation. Looking up at Harry through dark lashes, Louis wrapped his hand around his girth and tugged. Warmth sparkled in Harry’s gut, dick twitching in Louis’ grip as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the very tip. Precum smeared over his lips, leaving behind a pearly gloss and his blue eyes shimmered blissfully. 

“You look so gorgeous, honey,” Harry praised. As Louis took him into his mouth and suckled lightly at the bulbous head, he sucked in a breath and hummed lowly. 

The wet heat of Louis’ mouth engulfed him in ecstasy, stomach flexing. Up and down Louis bobbed his head, taking more and more of Harry in and moaning softly as he closed his eyes and hummed at the taste. With the skill that only came with practice, Louis tongued at his slit and sank down on him, swallowing around his cock. Thrills tingled up his spine and prickled under his skin, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through him. 

“Fuck,” Harry groaned as a petite nose brushed against his pelvis, his throbbing cock nestled deep into Louis’ throat. He could feel the muscle of Louis’ throat contract around him before Louis had to pull off, sputtering for air as his eyes watered. “Careful darlin’, don’t hurt yourself,” he breathed.

It drove him wild to see Louis so soft and eager already, craving nothing but giving pleasure to his lover and allowing Harry to take whatever he wanted. Harry smoothed his thumb over the crease in the younger man’s brow. 

Louis lathed his tongue over the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock and closed his eyes in bliss. “Fuck my mouth?” He asked in a breath as he cupped Harry’s balls in the palm of his hand. 

His mouth was heaven — how could Harry say no to such a generous offer? 

With nothing but a nod and a groan, Harry carded his fingers into Louis’ hair and held the base of his cock. He panted, slapping the head against Louis’ extended tongue wetly and smearing precum over his lips and cheeks. If he weren’t so overwhelmed with his own pleasure, he may have chuckled at the way the boy followed his cock with his tongue out and his eyes looking up at him eagerly. 

The first push of his length into Louis’ mouth had a high whine vibrating through the young man’s body, his fingers fondling Harry’s balls with one hand and the other gripping Harry’s thigh in an effort to keep from touching himself.

They’d done this before many times, but still, Harry took his time gradually building a pace and gently easing himself in and out of Louis’ mouth. Mesmerized, Harry watched his cock disappear into Louis’ mouth, the boy looking as blissful as could be with lashes fluttering and his angular cheekbones dusted pink. The sensation of fucking Louis’ mouth was heavenly, a divine experience that somehow Harry had gotten lucky enough to have and he pitied any man who had never gotten to see the beauty of his boy on his knees taking his cock like he was made to. 

God, he might just be in love with Louis.

“You like having your mouth fucked, doll? Like being my toy to play with?” Harry grunted, clamping his teeth down on his bottom lip with a sharp thrust that had Louis’ throat constricting around him. As he always did, he allowed a moment to smooth his hand through Lous’ hair gently — always a reminder that Louis was doing so well and being so good for him. 

Watery eyes and ruddy pink cheeks looked up at him, a whine vibrating around his cock. Seeing Louis like this stoked the flames of pleasure ripping through him, barreling him closer and closer to a release. If he didn’t pull out now, he’d come down his boy’s throat and wouldn’t be ready to go again for a few hours, so he slowed the pace of his thrusts and wiped the bead of sweat from his brow. He had so much more planned for Louis. 

Louis’ brows pinched and he made a noise of disappointment when Harry slowly withdrew, a string of spit clinging to his puffy lips. “H,” he rasped, desperately grabbing hold of Harry’s pant leg. 

“It’s alright, love. I’ll give you what you need,” Harry promised and tucked himself back into his briefs. Crouching, he delicately swept the strands of hair from Louis’ forehead before placing a feather-light kiss to the exposed skin. “Be a good boy and go wait for me on the bed.”

Eager as always, Louis nodded quickly and scrambled to get to his feet. His knees were a dark red and Harry promised to himself that he would take care of Louis and ease the soreness with a massage using Louis’ favorite lotion. Harry stood and ran his fingers through his damp curls, smirking as he heard the patter of Louis’ feet hurrying into his bedroom. 

The painters had just been there earlier in the morning and he could still smell paint mixing with the smoke from the used joint sitting in the ashtray on the coffee table. Harry wandered over to the couch and picked up Louis’ mess, biding his time before he would make his entrance into his room to finish Louis off. It was a game — a give and take that he and Louis had come to learn. He knew Louis would be sitting patiently on his bed, either kneeling in the center or perched on the edge of his bed, legs swinging, and the moment he returned Louis would look at him like he always did — like there were stars in his eyes and butterflies in his chest. 

As Harry brought Louis’ dishes to the kitchen, he smiled. Louis had begun leaving him little notes on sticky notes over the past few weeks. Sometimes they were cute little sayings or reminders for Harry to pick up milk on his way home from work, other times they were just doodles. Above the sink, Louis had left a hot pink sticky note with a crudely drawn penis surrounded by hearts, ‘i love ur dick ’ written at the top. With a snort, Harry grinned and shook his head fondly, washing his hands before heading for the bedroom. 

Just as he had expected, Louis was sitting at the foot of the bed, hands clasped in his lap and his feet swinging back and forth. His head snapped up and his body visibly relaxed as Harry walked over to stand in front of him, blinking dazedly. He was slipping into that familiar headspace of submission and docility, following Harry’s lead. When one took the other gave in a synchronized dance of sorts.

Harry lifted a hand, dragging his thumb over Louis’ red-bitten lips before pushing it between them into the wet warmth of his mouth. “I want you to undress me,” he decided, keeping his tone gentle but firm as he spoke. “And then you’re going to strip for me since you’re so eager to show off that body of yours, okay?”

Louis nodded, lashes fluttering as he inhaled deeply through his nose. 

“Words, Louis.”

“I’ll do it, I’ll be good,” the boy breathed, his words a little slurred as he struggled to speak around Harry’s thumb. His dainty hands reached up to Harry’s unbuttoned pants, eyes wide as he waited for permission. 

When he received the nod he was looking for, he slid the pants down Harry’s legs followed by his briefs — eyeing Harry’s cock before standing to remove Harry’s shirt as well. He worked quickly and eagerly to rid Harry of his yellow golf shirt and cap, skating his palms over the expanse of Harry’s chest, shoulders, and biceps in wonder. 

“Can I?” asked the boy, hooking his thumbs beneath the waistband of his red shorts.

“Yes.”

Harry took a seat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed as he twirled his finger. Louis turned around, shaking his hips slowly as he eased the shorts over the swell of his ass and slipped down his thighs to lie in a pool of silky red material on the floor, leaving him completely bare. 

“Not even wearing any boxers,” Harry tsked, shaking his head. “Such a little slut for me, aren’t you?”

He reached out to touch, his large hands settling on Louis’ waist as he caressed the soft curves there. Louis’ skin was peachy pink and warm beneath his touch, always so smooth and perfect. Using his grip on Louis’ waist, he pulled Louis back to sit in his lap, cock nestled between Louis’ cheeks as brushed his lips over Louis’ shoulder and the back of his neck. His breath fanned over Louis’ heated skin and made the boy shiver, eagerly shifting down against Harry’s cock. 

“Want me to fill you up, baby? Fuck you so full of my cum it’ll be leaking from you for days — getting you all messy?”

As expected, Louis made a high pitched whine in the back of his throat and tilted his head back to rest against Harry’s shoulder, chest heaving. “ Please .”

Harry hummed, rubbing the palms of his hands over Louis’ thighs and up his tummy. “Go grab the lube so I can prep you.”

The muscles in the younger man’s thighs jumped under Harry’s touch and he squeezed them together, dick twitching prettily. “‘M already loose,” he admitted.

With a low chuckle, Harry pinched one of Louis’ nipples between his fingers, watching it pebble and perk up. “Of course you are. You were just too eager to get my cock, weren’t you? Couldn’t help but touch yourself and get ready for me. Always so eager and impatient.”

From his perch in Harry’s lap, Louis squirmed. “Harry, please .”

Finally, Harry pressed a kiss to Louis’ shoulder and patted his thighs. “Get on your back on the bed.” He’d thought about fucking Louis from behind so he could watch his ass jiggle and his own cock disappear as he fucked into him, but he’d been thinking about watching Louis’ eyes go glassy and his cheeks flush, falling apart on Harry’s cock. 

Louis hurried to take his place, climbing off Harry’s lap and tossing himself onto the center of the bed, his hands already clenching the duvet in his hands and his dick resting against the smooth, soft skin of his tummy. He was perfection.

When he had first walked into the room, Harry hadn’t noticed the bottle of lube already waiting on the bedspread. Clearly Louis had been planning on getting fucked all along. Harry smirked, kneeling on the end of the bed as he watched Louis writhe in anticipation. His boy was begging for it — toes curling and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

“Wait,” Louis whispered, swallowing thickly when Harry crawled over him. He rolled onto his side and leaned over the edge of the bed before returning with one of Harry’s silk ties in his hands. 

Oh . Harry inhaled deeply and his eyes darkened, staring at the striped tie. It was one of Louis’ favorites on him, he always said it made Harry look like a mysterious CEO of a big corporation when he wore it so he supposed it shouldn’t surprise him that Louis wanted to be tied up with it. 

He took the tie, sliding it over his fingers and looping it over his fist thoughtfully. “Hands above your head,” he ordered. Louis was quick to obey, licking his lips as his chest heaved with each breath. They’d explored the element of bondage in their relationship a bit before and Harry knew a few simple knots that worked well for them. He took his time to carefully tie Louis’ wrists together, ensuring that it wouldn’t be too tight on Louis’ wrists and that he could get out of it if he wanted to. 

Satisfied with his work, Harry leaned back and examined his boy, taking in every inch of flushed skin and every quivering muscle. Louis truly was a work of art and Harry was pretty much certain that he had to have been crafted by some kind of divine power. He shook his head in amazement and caressed his hips and chest, calming the jittery boy. Sliding his hand down to rest over Louis’ navel and petting soothingly, Harry loomed over Louis and kissed him.

Immediately, Louis keened into him, mouth falling open and a low whine leaving his lips as Harry licked into his mouth. The slide of their lips was messy and heated, each one too excited to kiss properly but neither caring enough to slow down. Louis was quick to wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, hooking his ankles together and back arching in an attempt to somehow get even closer. 

Harry was beyond grateful that Louis had taken the time to prep — though he was only mildly disappointed he didn’t get to do it himself. He loved feeling Louis open up and relax around him, going pliant on his fingers and submitting. “Gorgeous,” he murmured, words getting lost in each kiss as he propped himself up with one hand and smoothed the other over Louis’ thigh. 

Beneath him Louis preened at the praise, wrists straining against the silk tie and hips bucking to meet Harry’s in desperation. Perspiration gathered on his hairline and he was blushing from his ears to his neck, keening into Harry impatiently. Now that he had Harry so close, he was desperate to get on with it and finally be filled like he’d been wanting all day. 

Perhaps a stronger man could have waited, could have kept Louis on edge for hours on end, begging and crying for cock, but Harry had always been a bit weak when it came to Louis. He slicked himself up with a bit of lube and nudged the thick head against Louis’ hole, rubbing it over the flickering muscle teasingly. The very first push past the tight ring of muscle had Louis squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. 

Despite being prepped, Louis gripped him like a vice, pulling a shuddered groan from the older man as inch by inch Louis took more of him. It was overwhelming how good he felt without a layer of anything between them, having decided weeks ago that they didn’t need condoms when they weren’t seeing anyone else but each other. 

When he was buried to the hilt, Harry took a deep breath and paused, allowing Louis the time he needed to adjust. The boy’s brows were pinched and his lips were stuck in a silent groan, his chest heaving as he tensed around Harry’s cock, shooting shocks of blissful pleasure through him. For a few moments, Louis just laid there, gradually relaxing into the feeling of being stuffed full.

“Okay,” Louis mewled finally, licking his lips as he nodded jerkily. “‘M good.”

Slowly, Harry pulled out, enjoying the smooth drag of Louis’ walls surrounding him before snapping his hips forward and punching a moan from Louis’ lungs. “Fuck,” he grunted, one hand positioned by Louis’ head to balance himself and the other gripping Louis’ thigh. For a few minutes he built up a steady pace, the sound of his balls slapping against Louis’ cheeks filling the otherwise quiet room of his condo and their breaths coming out in puffs. 

With each thrust, Louis relaxed more and more, going pliant on the bed as he let Harry drive into him at a rapid pace, getting scooted up the bed a bit every time Harry’s hips slammed into him. Harry took the opportunity to mouth at Louis’ neck, nipping at the delicate skin of his collarbones and grunting when Louis moaned. 

Louis always got a bit hazy when he was stuffed full, eyes glassy and every sound out of his mouth coming out a bit slurred and dazed. He normally liked to push his fingers into the mess of curls atop Harry’s head to drag Harry into a kiss or he’d claw at Harry’s back in desperation but with his hands tied above his head, he had no choice but to simply take it.

The soft, beautiful man looked up at Harry through hooded eyes, looking so pretty and perfect that Harry couldn't help but bite a dark bruise into Louis’ skin, claiming him and marking him so that no man could deny that Louis belonged to someone. It drove him wild to see Louis covered in lovebites, awakening the primal side of Harry that Louis affectionately called his Caveman Mode. 

As Harry drove into Louis over and over, shifting his angle to nudge against his prostate, Louis’ eyes fell shut and his mouth dropped open in ecstasy. Sweat clung to Harry’s brow and wet the graying curls at his temple, nothing but hot air and muttered curses filling the minimal space between them. When Louis tugged at his restraints and whined, Harry placed a hand on the hollow of his neck, thumbing Louis’ pulse and squeezing ever so gently. The act had Louis’ eyes springing open, the brightest blue Harry had ever seen boring into his soul. Louis was practically glowing, skin shimmering and lashes damp. 

“God, how are you even real?” Harry panted and shoved his cock even deeper, watching in awe as Louis’ belly bulged with the force of it. It seemed impossible that all of Harry’s cock could even fit in such a petite body but over and over again Louis amazed him with just how much he could take and how well he did it. “My perfect toy.”

Louis whined, eyes rolling back in his head. “Yours, only yours,” he agreed in a weak whimper and tried once more to tug at the tie binding his wrists together before Harry grabbed his wrists and held them in place, narrowing his eyes threateningly at the submissive man. 

“Thought I told you to be good,” he hissed. Between the vice-like grip he had on Louis’ wrists and the brutal pace of his cock ramming effortlessly into Louis’ prostate, the boy was a shivering, whimpering mess. Begging for everything and nothing at all, Louis writhed on sweat-soaked sheets and locked his legs around Harry’s waist as his whole body went tense. 

It only took three tugs on Louis’ cock to have the boy squeezing his eyes shut and tossing his head back in a loud, high-pitched moan that would never fail to send Harry into an animalistic trance. He grabbed Louis’ jaw authoritatively and rammed Louis’ prostate over and over, relentlessly fucking into him as Louis’ prick rubbed against his gut. 

“Harry,” Louis mewled, tears slipping down his cheeks in frustration as he barreled into his release. The tension in his body finally snapped, like a rubber band being stretched too far as his orgasm ripped through him, cum spurting from the tip of his angry red prick.

Pushing his thumb into Louis’ mouth, Harry hooked it behind the bottom row of Louis’ teeth and pulled his mouth open. In a split second, Louis seemed to realize what Harry was about to do, his eyes glazing over and his entire body going slack when Harry spit into his mouth, much to Louis’ surprise and deep arousal. It was filthy and possessive, but neither one of them could get enough. 

With a rough hand, Harry forced Louis’ mouth shut, digging his fingers into Louis’ cheeks. “Swallow it,” he demanded, the movement of his thrusts going sloppy as he pounded into the over-sensitive boy beneath him and came with a low groan. 

Through the fog of sex and lust, Louis looked completely wrecked — lips stained cherry-red and sweat glinting off his skin. Harry had to be the luckiest man in the world. As they panted, cum staining their skin and chests heaving, Harry was positive he was looking at sunshine personified. He realized, with sweat dripping down his spine and his body aching with exertion, that he would do just about anything for this man. 

It took a few minutes before either one of them had the energy or motivation to move but eventually the twinge in Harry’s spine and Louis’ whine of discomfort had Harry pulling out with a quiet curse, flopping onto his back with a long groan. Exhaustion had settled into his bones, leaving his arms and legs feeling as though they were made of cement. Louis wasn’t in much better shape as he laid with his legs spread wide and shivers rolling through him, hands still bound by the striped tie above his head. 

“C’mere, love,” Harry murmured. He helped Louis onto his side and reached up to release the delicate wrists from their confines, taking the time to press a kiss to the fragile bones. “You did so good for me. My perfect, lovely, darling boy.” Harry caressed Louis’ hips and chest, calming him as he slid his hand down to rest over his navel, petting soothingly. 

Blinking sluggishly, the corner of Louis’ lips pulled into the softest, sweetest smile Harry had ever seen as Louis allowed for Harry to cradle him against his chest. “Can just call me your boyfriend,” he slurred, yawning into his fist. “We practically live together anyway.”

Harry grinned. “Boyfriend,” he agreed and smoothed the sweaty fringe from Louis’ forehead before pressing a kiss to the glistening skin. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t both known that this was serious or anything less than the beginning of a long and wonderful relationship, but to hear Louis finally say it felt right. His boyfriend — Louis Tomlinson.

≪ ◦ ✧ ◦ ≫

After thirty-six houses, five months, and a few offers on the condo, Harry finally stood in front of the red brick house, ivy creeping up the sides of the home and a garden of flowers blooming around the big oak tree in the front yard. It was everything he had ever dreamed of — the perfect mix of traditional and modern, a twenty-five minute drive from work, and just the right size.

When he’d first toured the house he had known right away that this might be the place, immediately being drawn to the worn wooden floors, warm natural light filtering through the windows in every corner of the house, and the most beautiful backyard he’d ever seen. He had wandered through the half-empty home, imagining what his life could look like in such a place. 

He could picture Louis perched on one of the stools in the kitchen, working on paperwork for clients while Harry made them dinner, or laying out by the pool with his skimpy swim shorts clinging to his body as he soaked in the afternoon sun with a glass of lemonade. There was a bathtub large enough for two in the master bath, a reading nook he’s sure Louis would claim as his, and a closet so big he and Louis wouldn’t even need to worry about fighting over space for all their clothes. 

He had ended up telling Louis he loved him in this house, his heart beating heavily in his chest and thoughts of forever swirling in his head.

There would be dinners in the dining room overlooking the back garden and family game nights spent with his boyfriend and kids, who had been quick to adore Louis, quelling any nerves Harry had initially had about his kids meeting his new, much younger boyfriend. But they had seen how happy their dad was with Louis and recognized that Louis was good for him and vice versa. 

Louis had just fit . Seamlessly blending into his life and filling the voids Harry hadn’t even known were there; they had found a home in one another. 

“Harry!” a familiar voice called out, the sound of footsteps crunching in leaves approached. “Harry,” Louis repeated and stopped beside him, nose wrinkled and lips turned downwards into a frown as he struggled to carry the box in his arms. “Why on earth did I let you talk me into not hiring movers? We both know you could have afforded it and we could have been having sex in our new bed while they did all the hard work,” he complained, squinting in the autumn sun. 

Harry chuckled, tearing his eyes away from his new home and grinning at the younger man. “Because,” he sing-songed and took the box from his boyfriend with a peck on the cheek. “It’s our first house together and moving in and doing it all on our own is part of the fun.”

With a huff, Louis wiped the sweat from his brow and rested his hands on his hips. “I dunno, I think fucking is a lot more fun than sweating our asses off carrying all your old books. But I guess you’re lucky I love you, or I’d be sitting pretty on that new patio chair watching my handsome, silver fox of a man do all the heavy lifting.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” Harry laughed fondly and shook his head. “You run on ahead and start unpacking and when I’m done bringing in the last few boxes I’ll eat you out in our fancy new shower. How does that sound?”

Louis pursed his lips as he pretended to mull it over before sighing with a shrug of his shoulders. “I suppose it doesn’t sound half bad. But I can’t promise you’re going to be able to find everything when I unpack it,” he giggled and winked over his shoulder before scurrying up the paved path to the house, his soft beige scarf flying behind him and leaves falling upon feathery brown hair. 

Harry had learned that sometimes a home wasn’t a perfect mansion in the perfect neighborhood with the perfect view. Sometimes home was a crappy apartment that reeked of weed, or a rundown fixer upper with shotty electricity and terrible phone signal. For Harry, it was found in the form of a beautiful young man with powder blue eyes and a smile that melted his heart. Louis was his home.