Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty —

"Whatcha doin'?"

Great. Now Louis has to start all over. A sigh presses out of his chest, shutting his eyes and opening them back up to the left corner of the room. Counting the ceiling tiles is a tedious task and he will not be distracted. All the voices and phones ringing around him are drowned out as he narrows his eyes. He probably needs to get a better contact prescription, because the tiles are beginning to blend together.

Louis organized every advertising executive's schedule, he stuffed all the envelopes on his desk, and even brewed three pots of coffee in the break room today. There's two hours left of his shift and he refuses to die in a beige, room temperature office that doesn't even have toilets on their floor so everybody has to go down to the fourth level, talking to even more boring people just to relieve themselves. Louis curses silently as he loses count once again, only getting to eighteen this time.

"Oh, good — I thought you died for a second there."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Louis retorts quickly, his neck straining as he sits up in his chair. He was leaning back for a little too long, but the exhaustion seeping in his bones numbs the pain a little. Stretching out his back, he slides his chair back under his desk.

Louis spares a glance at the clock, and wants to curl up into a ball when he sees only fifteen minutes have passed since he last looked at the time. Harry smirks at Louis' rhetorical question, but his eyes are on the computer in front of him. His long, slender fingers type away speedily, as if he has anything more to do than Louis does. Louis wants to smack that stupid smile off his face with the basket of unopened letters beside him. Maybe he gets too aggressive when he's bored, but Harry deserves it.

"Of course not. Who would entertain me all day if you weren't here?" Annoying man asks, eyebrows quirking as he finally looks over at Louis. It's hard not to look at each other, since their desks are right across from one another and pressed together. The only other people there are to look at in Louis' point of view, is Jessica from Human Resources, and then Greg and Johnny, the sub-editors in the corner of the large office. Harry gets a larger view of everything, but doesn't look up from his computer much unless he's speaking to someone.

Louis huffs, grabbing his pen so he can doodle on the random files in front of him. They don't matter at all, because Mr. Frederick asked him to shred them about four hours ago, he just hasn't gotten around to it yet.

Speaking of the devil. "Boys!"

Both Harry and Louis' heads snap up in attention, the previous tired energy lingering through the air gone and replaced with a zip of anxious tension.

"I need one of you to go up to the sixth floor and give these to Derick," The older man tells them, slapping a large stack of magazines onto the middle of their desks. Mr. Frederick's face is timeworn and wrinkled, looking at the pair expectantly. Louis immediately reaches for the pile, but Harry is quick to swipe it from right under his desperate hands. Bastard.

"Right on it, Sir." Harry offers one of his bright, charming smiles and Louis has to refrain from gagging. He's such a suck-up, always smiling and complimenting like it's the only thing he knows how to do. It just peeves Louis, because of course everyone falls for his little mind games, inviting him to their baby showers, offering to make him coffee and extending deadlines for him. Louis scowls at Harry's back as he walks away towards the elevator.

Mr. Frederick lets out a short breath of air, scratching at his untrimmed beard. "Sorry, Tomlinson. Gotta be quicker next time," He chuckles gruffly, squeezing Louis' shoulder with his hairy fingers. Louis doesn't bother with a reply because his boss is walking away, back to his office. Mr. Frederick has been his boss for about eight months now and Louis still doesn't know how to feel about him. He gives off a friendly vibe but there's still something a little creepy about him.

Louis has been in a battle with Harry ever since the beginning of the year when Mr. Frederick said he was going to promote one of the Temps to an Editorial Assistant position. This would be huge for him. It's the second step he takes to get to the the top and the only thing on his mind. He also wants the pay raise to afford his own apartment without a roommate and save for the future. His responsibilities wouldn't be too different from what they are now, but he would have the opportunity to work beside an actual Editor and not have an insufferable desk mate.

The only thing standing in his way is stupid, ass-kissing Harry Styles with the comically large dimples and long curls. They've been working here for the same amount of time, both graduating from different Universities in the city and being hired that following September. Harry was pretty quiet at first, until Louis got to know him better and realized he was just this excessively flirty guy who continues to insist that he is going to get this promotion first and staring at Louis like a serial killer. He's just so infuriating, is the thing, acting like he's this perfect golden boy — when actually he's just a dick.

When Harry returns, Louis doesn't look up from the contracts that he's reviewing, purposely giving the silent treatment. He can feel Harry's eyes on him, but ignores it for the sake of his pride. It would teach Harry a lesson to not be so irritating all the time if someone humbled him. And that's exactly what Louis is going to do, and has been for several months. It really hasn't worked much so far.

"Louis," Harry whispers across the desks, leaning forward with his elbows supporting him. He has on a stupid plaid shirt that isn't even buttoned up all the way. Louis narrows his eyes at him warningly to be quiet, but of course Harry doesn't listen. "Are you mad at me?"

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to work," Louis grumbles, clicking his pen open obnoxiously with the intention of proving his point, and scribbling random words to pretend like he's busy. He can see Harry's little smile in the corner of his eyes.

"You're so cute when you're annoyed," Harry whispers again, like it's a secret. And there goes the inappropriate comments at the worst times. Louis doesn't think any time would actually be appropriate, but especially not at their place of work. This is exactly the reason he deserves the promotion and Harry doesn't, the younger guy doesn't even take this job seriously.

Louis doesn't look up or even acknowledge Harry's comment, refusing to give into the way Harry is clearly trying to provoke him into getting even more annoyed. He knows Harry just sees this as a game, how to get Tomlinson's angry vein to pop out of his neck: day 245.

"You can't ignore me forever, you know? I'm the one with the drawer full of candy."

Louis actually falters a bit at that statement. He always forgets about the drawer of chocolates and gummy worms that Harry has in his desk, until Harry offers pieces to him during the excruciatingly boring times where they have nothing to do. He knows how much Louis likes junk food, and uses that to his advantage. It definitely feels like Harry is bribing him to be nice, but it won't work on him, so usually he just takes the candies and doesn't let it affect him.

Harry smiles when Louis finally lifts his head, dimples adoring his cheeks.

"You're so easy," Harry gloats, already sliding the bottom drawer open from his right.

"Shut up," Louis grumbles, holding out his hand. "A caramel one, please."

Harry is smirking as he drops the wrapped candy into Louis' palm. Louis just mumbles out a quick thank you and continues to pretend like he's busy working as he munches on it. Louis can't wait to just get home, put on comfortable clothes and complain to his roommate, Zayn, all about his day at work to get it off his chest. Once he gets this promotion, things will be better, and he won't ever have to see Harry's stupid face across from him anymore.

—

The journey to work on Wednesday morning is absolutely brutal. The nasty weather and backed up traffic ruins Louis' mood immediately. His clothes get partially soaked by the time he finally makes it into the large office building, and Louis wonders how he could possibly live in London and not have an emergency umbrella waiting for him in his car. He shivers, water dripping down the side of his cheek and goosebumps appearing on his arms. He nods politely to the receptionist at the front desk, who is already familiar with his face by now, and heads for the elevators.

On his way up to the fifth floor, he shakes off the rest of the rain droplets on his hair and shoulders of his jacket. Louis isn't looking forward to waiting for his clothes to dry while he sits at his desk, but it's not like he has something else to change into waiting for him somewhere.

Louis refrains from groaning when the elevator stops once he hits the third floor. He steps to the side of the box, smiling tightly when a man from marketing is revealed behind the doors and walks inside. Louis might recognize him from the Christmas party last year, but he can't be too sure. Most of the guys in marketing look the same, all wearing pretentious suits and a cocky grin lacing their face. It hasn't taken long for Louis to realize the lower you are in the building, the more unbearable you are, with an exception to the receptionist downstairs. Once Louis gets promoted, he'll get moved up to the seventh floor, and there's nine in total. So, being able to talk to people with more than three brain cells is definitely something to look forward to.

"You're Tomlinson, right?"

Louis turns to look at the man, arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, that's me." He doesn't bother providing any further information or conversation, because strangers in the elevator aren't really his favorite type of people. The man opens his mouth to say more, but the elevator doors sliding open to the fifth floor interrupts him. Louis walks out with a polite wave and a pep in his step, eager to get away from the freakishly clean-looking man.

A couple of coworkers say hello on the way to his desk, and the only person he actually stays to chat with is Alyssa, his favorite person in the office by far. She was the first person Louis clicked with when he got the job here and she makes a pretty killer cup of tea. He simply loves her and the energy she brings to the boring place.

"Did someone pour a bucket of water onto you on the way in, mate?" She asks, eyebrows raised as she gives him a once over.

"Oh, stop. I didn't have an umbrella," Louis scoffs, shrugging off his jacket to get more comfortable. After taking a look around, he realizes he must be a couple of minutes late. Pretty much everyone is at their desks already, even Mr. Frederick's office door is closed, which only happens when he's already arrived. "I should get to my desk, but you wanna get lunch somewhere later?"

"Of course, don't miss me too much." And with that she pushes him away towards his side of the office. Louis walks away with a small chuckle, but it fades away when he catches sight of Harry, fiddling with his phone and already settled at the desk.

"Morning," Louis greets, a dry tone that he uses most of the time. He finds that a lack of acknowledgement just makes things awkward, especially since Harry is very social and doesn't really understand what comfortable silence is or how to sit with it.

Harry lifts his head quickly, setting down his phone as Louis pulls out his chair to sit down. "Good morning. Guess someone slept in a little today?" Harry muses using a chipper tone, straightening out a couple of papers in front of him. Harry likes things very clean and organized, which hasn't stopped Louis at all from being a little more messy than he typically would be.

"Even though it's none of your business — traffic was horrible today." Louis switches his computer on and types in his password. It's nine in the morning right now, which means only eight hours until he's free. He can do this.

Harry eyes narrow in his direction. "You sure you aren't just losing your professionalism? 'Cause it looks to me lately that this has been a pattern for you." Blah, blah, blah. Harry is just trying to get a rise out of Louis and it's not going to work.

"Stop trying to be devious, Styles. It's not a good look for you."

Harry just huffs like a defeated child and turns to his computer. Louis doesn't have much to do today other than the normal tasks and calling a couple people back after their complaints against the company's mailing system. He's never been sure why he has to deal with it, instead of whoever is in charge of their shipping department. Louis despises talking to mean customers, they either yell at him or make him put Mr. Frederick on the line, which are both equally unpleasant.

The first couple of hours are uneventful and Louis finishes the majority of his work too quickly. He's excited to finally leave for a little bit and get lunch with Alyssa from somewhere down the street. They always have to rush to eat when they don't pack something for themselves, because they just get a measly thirty minute break. Alyssa talks about this new guy that she's seeing on their way back up to the office, going on and on about his weird habits but the fact that he's also really cute. Louis doesn't care too much, but nods along anyway to show he's listening.

It seems like almost everyone in his life has been dating recently, even Harry probably has someone he's seeing despite being the most insufferable person on the planet. It's kind of depressing, but he's happy for Alyssa and his friend Zayn especially, who really likes the guy he's been dating for the past couple of months. Louis still has yet to meet him, because apparently he's "too embarrassing" and "asks way too many personal questions", in Zayn's words. Completely untrue.

When he gets back to his desk, Harry isn't there, which is a bit relieving. He gets a couple more minutes of being away from him.

That doesn't last long at all, though, because soon he's coming back, and not alone. Louis almost recoils when he sees Harry talking with the guy from the elevator, laughing and chatting like they're friends. He really shouldn't be surprised.

Louis tries to keep his eyes focused on the email he's reading and hope that neither of them acknowledge him. But of course, Harry can't keep his mouth shut.

"Hey, Tomlinson." Harry gives him a dimpled smile, leaning his hip against their adjoined desks. Louis just glances at him, opting out of responding so he doesn't get sucked into their conversation. He still has about four or five hours left of his day and he refuses to endure something like this so early.

"Oh, hey!" The guy from the elevator finally notices him and Louis wants to let his head fall onto the desk beneath him.

"Hi," Louis offers, ignoring the eyes burning into the side of his head. He is suddenly craving a stale bagel from the break room, which just also happens to be a clean getaway. But the universe doesn't seem to be on his side today, because of course Harry is feeling particularly chatty.

"You two know each other?" Harry asks, glancing between elevator man and Louis.

"No — "

"Yeah, we met at last year's Christmas party and ran into each other earlier today," Elevator man explains, interrupting Louis. So he was right, he knew he recognized the man from somewhere. He just didn't trust his mind not to be fooling him. Louis got a little tipsy that night, and it was several months ago as well, so sue him if he forgot this guy.

"Ah, that's right, yeah." Louis presses his lips together, nodding once before turning back to his computer. He wonders what kind of impression he left on this guy for him to think they're friends or something. Maybe he's just overly polite and doesn't really remember Louis much either, besides his last name.

Harry and Elevator Guy exchange goodbyes and then he heads off to leave, much to Louis' relief. Harry sits down gingerly and pulls himself closer to the wooden desk, the wheels of his chair supporting him. His curls are pulled back into a small clip now, just a couple strands falling out and framing his face. Louis looks away when Harry and him make eye contact, and Louis can practically feel Harry's smug grin through the air.

"His name is Nick, by the way. It was obvious that you forgot," Harry tells him, voice quiet as he continues to stare at Louis' side profile. Louis just shrugs, typing away random words to his Vogue subscription that sent him an update email so Harry thinks he's busy.

"I knew that," he responds stubbornly, shifting in his seat. He's never been a very good liar, but Harry doesn't know him well enough to be able to tell, anyway.

"Sure," Harry says, unconvinced and still smug.

Louis isn't sure why he doesn't want Harry to know that he forgot who Nick was. He just, in general, doesn't want anybody to think he's a bad person who forgets people immediately after meeting them. And Harry seems too amused by the fact that Louis was uncomfortable in Nick's presence, which is exactly the kind of thing Louis would expect from him. Harry can be such a jerk most of the time, always poking and prodding at Louis until he reaches his breaking point.

The second half of the day is exactly like the first. There's no word from Mr. Frederick, so Louis has no opportunities to make up for yesterday. He hates that Harry got to deliver those stupid magazines, he got time with one of the more respected guys in the building and Louis can only hope Frederick doesn't assign Harry as his official person that he goes to, to do his little errand runs. The second Harry becomes his second hand man, Louis has lost the promotion.

When his shift finally ends, after what feels like the longest eight hours of his life — something he says almost everyday, he doesn't bother with a goodbye towards Harry. He just shuts off his computer, gives Alyssa a hug, and thanks himself for being quick to clean up so he didn't have to stand with Harry in the elevator. Which is always awkward.

The second he gets back to the apartment, he's met with the horrific sight of his best friend on top of some guy he's never seen before. And they're — for lack of a better term — sucking faces.

"Oh my god! Some decency, please!" Louis shouts, absolutely baffled and quickly covering his eyes after the door closes behind him.

"Oh shit." He hears, and then a loud thump onto the ground. Louis tentatively peaks through his fingers and sees that Zayn has fallen off the couch and onto the floor, and the puppy-eyed man he was snogging has a bright red face, looking at Louis like he has seen a ghost. Louis could relate. He's gone a solid five years without seeing Zayn on top of someone, but of course living with someone at age twenty-three includes the inevitable clash of sexual activity. His whole body shivers with disgust. Zayn is practically his brother.

The mystery boyfriend helps Zayn up from the floor, while Louis lets out a stressed sigh as he drops his keys onto the small table by their front door and slips off his shoes.

"Sorry, Lou. I got a little carried away and didn't realize you'd be home so soon," Zayn tells him sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. The pair look like kids who just got caught by their mum, all guilty and embarrassed. Louis rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I see that." Louis walks further into the apartment once his stomach doesn't feel like it's going to come up his throat anymore. "You must be Liam, yeah?"

The taller man stands up beside Zayn, nodding quickly. "Yes, it's nice to meet you. I'm sorry, too," Liam responds sincerely, sticking out his hand. Louis looks at it skeptically before accepting, he has hope that Liam's hand hasn't been anywhere unspeakable.

After moving on from the awkward encounter, Louis actually gets to know Liam more and likes what he sees. He's met plenty of Zayn's boyfriends and never really had a good read on them, but this guy seems to practically kiss the ground Zayn walks on, so that's enough for Louis. Zayn gives him warning glances every time Louis asks a question that might be crossing some boundaries, but Louis doesn't care. It's important to know if someone has a criminal record and how often they visit the dentist. It's simply good research.

When Louis realizes Zayn is hinting for him to let them be alone again, he politely excuses himself and makes a bowl of cereal before going back to his bedroom. Louis planned on watching football and eating in his room when he got home, anyway. He loves to just forget about work and wind down, and this is the perfect way to do that. Sure, he'd love to be having sex right now to wind down, but nobody is really offering any of that so he's got to work with what he's got.

—

On Friday, right when Louis' shift is about to end, Mr. Frederick calls Louis to come to his office. Harry has a brief second of confusion on his face and then he's glaring as Louis smirks and walks away. This victory feels nice.

"What can I help you with, Sir?" Louis asks, as he pokes his head inside Frederick's office. His boss waves him inside, so he steps through the door and closes it behind him.

"I need to be at my son's piano recital, so I need you to go to a meeting in about twenty minutes and take notes," Frederick explains, standing up from his chair and straightening out his the jacket of his suit. "It's on the eighth floor in conference room B, super easy to find."

Louis nods, a sizzle of excitement running through him. He gets to sit in a meeting with important people from all over the company, most people will probably be from different buildings and locations. He absently wonders if he'll get to meet Lucinda Berkin's, an absolute legend in the publishing industry. He knows that Mr. Frederick and her are friends, and he has always been to scared to ask if he could meet her.

"Yes, absolutely, Sir. Is there anything specific that you'd like to me to pay attention to or just write everything down?"

Frederick shakes his head. "This is just a bi annual meeting to make sure every department is running smoothly. So you just need to pay attention when they mention London and jot down the statistics for me," He chuckles, grabbing a big coat from the rack in the corner of his office and sliding his arms through the sleeves. Louis smiles, nodding again to show he understands.

"Okay. I'll email the notes to you this evening. Hope your son does well." Louis gives him two thumbs up, which he immediately regrets but ultimately decides to stick with it.

"Thanks, Tomlinson. I appreciate it."

Then he's walking out and leaving the door open for Louis to leave too. Louis allows his shoulders to relax and can't help the smile that is permanently stuck on his face. Once he steps out of the office and closes the door behind him, Harry is immediately approaching, lips tugged downward into a frown and a crease between his brows.

"What was that about?" He asks, voice deeper than usual. Louis likes seeing him all stiff and mad, it's a nice contrast to the bubbly persona he usually has.

Louis tilts his head to the side. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He teases, brushing past Harry and watching as people around the office collect their things and get ready to leave. Harry trails behind him quickly, ignoring the initial rejection of information from Louis.

"Yes, actually, I would like to know. Now tell me," He demands. Louis can hear the pout in his tone and rolls his eyes. Harry can be such a child sometimes. He's only about a month younger, but it feels like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't owe you an answer," Louis tells him firmly as they arrive at their adjoined desks and start cleaning up their own stuff. Harry is staring at him, but not the usual stare where he gets this far off look in his eyes, this time it's icy and hard. Louis wants to pat himself on the back for finally getting on Harry's nerves, he didn't know it was possible and he was almost going to lose hope for a while there.

Once Harry collects his things and his bag is slung over his shoulder, he steps closer to Louis. "C'mon, Tomlinson. Just tell me what he talked to you about."

Louis gives in, because he doesn't want to miss the opportunity of bragging, especially to Harry. "Well, if you must know," He begins, eyes flicking between Harry's bright green ones. "He asked to me to sit in on one of his meetings with other departments heads, told me to take notes," Louis explains simply, with a chipper lilt to his voice just to piss Harry off further. He notices the way Harry's jaw clenches, but otherwise he keeps his cool.

The office has emptied at this point, just Harry and Louis left. Louis kind of likes the silence and definitely doesn't miss the sound of the copy machine buzzing and whirring like it's a thousand years old.

"Damnit." Harry shakes his head, sighing and tugging on his curls briefly. "Whatever, but if you meet Lucinda Berkins I'm literally going to murder you," He threatens, backing away to leave towards the elevators. Louis grabs a pen and notepad from his desk and follows.

"That wouldn't even be my fault, though." Louis can't help the surprised laugh he lets out. He's practically giddy at the idea of all the people he might meet, and hopes they don't give him dirty looks for how young and clearly inexperienced he is with the profession.

Harry gives him a sideways glance once they're in the elevator, and starts to watch as Louis hums and writes the date of today on his notepad. Louis can't help but be familiar with the way Harry stares all the time, it's a weird thing to get used to, but he's always felt too awkward to point it out. He's not sure if Harry is just trying to irritate him like he always is or doesn't even realize that he's doing it. Either way, Louis pretends not to notice.

They get to the lobby first, and Harry's gaze breaks away, coughing into his fist and feigning indifference. "Bye, Tomlinson."

Louis just waves when he knows Harry can see him. He's not sure how Harry shifted so quickly from angry to whatever way he's feeling now, but Louis doesn't really care. Harry has always been a question mark, so that's nothing new.

The meeting lasts about an hour and a half, and Louis doesn't get to meet Lucinda Berkins, but otherwise he would call it a huge success. Everybody is pretty polite with him after he explains why Mr. Frederick couldn't be there and the speaker even elaborates when she realizes Louis probably won't know what she's talking about. He also notices that the eighth floor is significantly nicer than the fifth. For one, it has toilets, so that's nice. They also have plants decorating the corners to add a comfortable feel and the chairs don't permanently damage Louis' spine.

Once he gets home that evening, he transfers the notes onto his laptop and sends the email to his boss. He's just sitting on the couch — his dog, Clifford, asleep on his lap — and trying to find something to watch when Zayn walks in, burping loudly once he opens the door.

"Well, hello to you too," Louis greets sarcastically, turning to watch as Zayn shucks his shoes off and locks the door.

"Hey, man. Whatcha up to?"

"Trying to find something to watch." He shrugs, clicking through the channels as Zayn goes to their kitchen and starts searching through the fridge. "Did you go to the pub or something?"

Zayn comes back into the living room with a comically large box of goldfish crackers, sitting down on the couch and burping again, as if from the impact. Louis wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, had a couple beers with Niall, which turned into shots. But then he threw up... so I decided we should probably go home."

"Good idea," Louis laughs. "It's only eight o'clock, dude. You should drink some water."

"You're right. But before I forget, I should probably tell you that I met these guys at the bar and they're coming over tomorrow to play FIFA," Zayn states, standing up. Louis sits up, his mouth opening and closing again, because what? He tries not to move around too much so he doesn't wake up Clifford.

"Zayn, what the hell? Do you even know those guys? What if they're serial killers and now they have our address?" Louis questions incredulously, voice a little squeaky. It gets like that when he's worried, but he's too stressed to care.

"It's fine, Lou. Calm down. They're totally cool and there's a tall guy that's pretty cute for you." His gaze follows Zayn as he goes back to the kitchen, and his friend turns around briefly to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively in Louis' direction. Louis just rolls his eyes.

—

It's totally not fine, when Louis wakes up the next morning at nine o'clock to obnoxious shouting and bickering. This is supposed to be one of only two days he gets to sleep in, and these guys that he doesn't even know are ruining it.

After about ten minutes of not being able to fall back asleep, he groans and reluctantly removes himself from the warmth of his bed. He doesn't bother changing out of his sweatpants, only planning on going out of his room to tell Zayn to tell his new friends to quiet down. He's not great at confrontation with strangers, so he's not fond of the idea of saying it to their faces.

The second he pokes his head around the corner to see if it's actually Zayn's friends or if it's burglars, he deeply wishes it was burglars instead. Sitting on his couch, playing FIFA on his TV is none other than Styles and some brunet guy Louis has never in his life seen before. A sense of betrayal strikes him when he sees Clifford cuddled up on Harry's lap. It smells like pancakes and bacon, and Louis' stomach rumbles angrily. This has got to be considered stalking. There's a very real possibility that Harry didn't know Zayn was his roommate, but still. What the hell is Harry doing in his apartment?

Louis runs back into his room as quietly as possible, grabbing his phone and dialing Zayn's number. He prays that he picks up. His head is spinning as he paces around his room. This is definitely not the type of thing he expected to wake up to today. There's no way he can just stay in his room until Harry and his friend leave, he's hungry and wants to watch reruns of friends in peace.

"Lou?" Zayn answers into the phone, clearly confused.

Louis immediately shushes him. "Zayn, what the hell is Styles doing in the apartment?" Louis hisses through the phone, lowering his voice and searching through his closet for a shirt to slip on.

"What? — Hold on, I'm coming to your room."

The second Zayn hangs up, he's opening the door to Louis' bedroom and walking in, effectively interrupting Louis' task to find something to cover himself.

"What are you on about, man?"

Louis pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing as Zayn steps closer to him. "That's Styles, you idiot. From my job. Literally the most insufferable person I know. What the hell is he doing here?"

Zayn's eyes widen, covering his mouth. "Wait, are you serious? That's the guy you hate? Harry is so sweet, why — "

"Do not even start with me, Malik. I'm not in the mood," Louis interrupts, holding up his hand. "That's what he does. He tricks everyone into thinking he's this great guy, but actually he's a menace to society — and I'm pretty sure he's a coffee person." Louis rolls his eyes.

"Lou, first of all, you need to calm down." Zayn grabs his shoulders, shaking him a little. "And second, Harry is the guy that I was talking about when I said he was cute for you. You should definitely ask him out. Actually — do you want me to go get him right now?"

"Absolutely not." Louis shakes his head, taking a step back so Zayn's hands fall off his shoulders. His stomach curls at the idea of going on a date with Harry or just spending any time alone with him at all. He already has to spend eight hours of everyday across from him, and he'd rather die than extend that time at all.

It honestly upsets him that Harry has even started to reach his friends. Not only has he convinced everyone at the office that he's this charming, funny guy — including Alyssa — somehow he's also managed to wiggle his way into Louis' personal life. Now he's friends with Zayn and this probably won't be the last time he sees him outside of work. Slowly seeping into his life like a disease spreading through an enclosed space. The worst part is that he probably became Zayn's friend without even realizing he knew Louis, like it's just in his blood to torment Louis until he goes certifiably insane.

"Zayn?"

Both of them turn, Louis' stomach dropping when he sees Harry approach the doorway of his bedroom. He's not wearing what Louis usually sees him in, a button up and slacks. Apparently his choice of clothes on the weekend include trackies and worn out t-shirts. Louis purses his lips.

"Oh."

Harry is just staring at him stupidly and Louis wants to lunge at him. But violence is not the answer and he's too hungry to fight. Louis curls his arms around his exposed torso and Harry's eyes track the movement.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles, scratching curve of his neck. "I um — just wanted to tell Zayn that it's his turn."

"Okay, I'll be out in a second," Zayn smiles awkwardly, clearly feeling the unsettled tension in the air. Louis is still holding back from dragging Harry out of the apartment by the collar of his shirt. He wants nothing more than to just enjoy his Saturday eating cornflakes and relax while he's off of work, and of course Styles has to ruin that. Just like he ruins the professional aspect of Louis' life.

Harry just nods slowly and glances at Louis one more time before turning to walk away. Louis groans once he's gone, covering his face with his hands. "Zayn, I need him to leave. Please." He looks up again, eyes pleading and desperate. "I'm literally begging you. I can't stand that guy."

Zayn looks disappointed at his words and small tinge of guilt strikes Louis' heart, but it's quickly replaced with a wave of relief when his friends nods. "Okay, but you can't stop me from talking to him unless you give me a real reason why he's a bad person." He tries to walk away after that Louis already has a reason on the tip of his tongue, reaching out to grab Zayn's shoulder to turn him back around.

"He's trying to steal my promotion!" Louis states immediately, hands in the air to prove his point. But Zayn levels him with an unimpressed narrow of his eyes.

"He's not stealing it, he just wants it as much as you do."

"Same thing," Louis replies with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Zayn just shakes his head with a reluctant smile and leaves to go back to his new best friends.

Louis honestly wishes, from the bottom of his heart, that Harry would just leave him alone. This is absolute torture, to hate someone so much but then see every single person in your life praise and accept them like they're something special. Harry is a nightmare, and apparently he's the only one who can see it. Or maybe he's just the only one who receives that evil side of him, which isn't any better.

—

When Louis gets to work the next Monday, he sits down at his desk, pulls out the files he brought home and turns on his computer, completely ignoring Harry. No more games, no more stupid bickering between them, he's absolutely done. If Harry is going to completely disrupt his life out of his control, he's going to do the only thing that is in his control, and that's whether or not he allows Harry to bother him. So, he's decided just completely ignoring him is the most practical option. It's probably a little immature and won't work permanently since they're coworkers, but Louis doesn't care. He refuses to acknowledge Harry, and then maybe he'll just disappear.

The second he sits down, Harry is just staring at him. He keeps opening his mouth like he has something to say but then closing it again, his shoulders deflating until he tries to speak again and opens his mouth. That goes on for about forty five minutes. Harry doesn't even stop staring at him to do his work, only occasionally fiddling with the papers on his desk like they could've moved from the last time he adjusted them.

Harry chews on his lip, eyes boring into the side of Louis' head as the man types a short email to a woman who didn't receive her weekly magazine. Harry shifts noisily in his seat and that's just the last straw for Louis, his defense cracking.

"Oh my god," Louis groans, keeping his voice low so he doesn't draw attention from anybody else doing their work around them. Harry's eyes widen when Louis finally looks over at him, scowling. "Will you stop fucking staring at me? You are such a creep."

Harry's eyebrows knit together, as if he doesn't even know what Louis is talking about. Louis has a half a mind to reach over their desks and just strangle him. Harry leans forward, voice even lower and fingers fidgeting in front of him.

"I didn't know Zayn was your roommate," He whispers, a tension around his eyes. Louis glares at him, hard and unwavering.

"Don't even try it, Styles. I don't care if you knew or didn't know. Just shut up and do your work for once." Louis breaks his gaze and turns back to his computer, taking a deep breath to settle the anger coursing through him. Just the fact that Harry even knows who Louis' best friend is makes his insides twist and turn. He can't escape this guy no matter what he does.

Harry sighs, eyebrows knitting together again but angrier this time. There's a short pause in the exchange before Harry speaks, swallowing roughly. "God, why do I even try with you? I told you I didn't know he was your friend and you're still mad at me," He retorts. "I don't even have to explain myself to you, you know? And Zayn asked me to hang out with him and his boyfriend next weekend as well, just thought you should know," Harry elaborates bitterly.

Louis stands up from his seat before his head explodes, walking away towards the break room to cool off. The last thing he needs is to cause a scene in the middle of the office and ruin any chance of the promotion that he might've had. Being labeled as 'difficult to work with' is career suicide. Once he pushes the door open, he heads for the cabinet that he keeps his tea bags. He goes as slow as possible to avoid the inevitable fact that he'll have to return to Harry.

Apparently Harry wants to speed that process up, because he barges in too, crossing his arms over his chest. "You are such a child — just walking away like that in the middle of a conversation?!"

"It wasn't even a conversation, you dick," Louis scoffs, dropping his box of tea and straightening out his shoulders when he sees how mad Harry is. He's never seen him like this, so cold and sharp around the edges. "And I can act like a child all I want, it's much less unsettling than the way you stare at me for hours on end like some fucking stalker."

Harry's stance falters a bit, shaking his head defensively. "I don't even do that," He denies. Louis' eyebrows raise, ready to immediately counteract Harry's statement with every single time his gaze on Louis has lasted more than fifteen minutes.

But he's interrupted by the door opening, and effectively shuts his mouth when he sees that Mr. Frederick is entering.

"Oh, there you boys are. I was wondering why you weren't at your desks," He laughs gruffly. Harry spins around, face going pale. "I had a favor to ask you two."

Louis is too caught off guard to respond, and he's suddenly thankful for Harry and his quick recovering. "Okay," he responds politely — as always — nodding for Frederick to continue. Louis wants to rolls his eyes at how quickly Harry's demeanor changed from hostile to timid and sweet in less than two seconds.

"Well, I've got this huge shipment of paper coming in this weekend, but it was ordered all wrong," He says, shaking his head disappointedly. "I need you two to wait for it to arrive on Saturday and pay them extra for a rush job to take the paper back and get us what we actually need, and then wait for that to come too."

Absolutely fantastic. Another Saturday that he has to spend with Harry around — but he agrees immediately, willing to do just about anything to improve his image even further in Frederick's eyes.

"Awesome." He claps his hands together with finality when both boys agree. "I'll email you guys the details." And then he's walking out and Harry's back stays turned towards Louis, until Louis speaks up.

"Guess you'll have to cancel your plans with your new friends," Louis mutters, twisting back to his box of tea and tugging out one of the bags.

Harry doesn't say a thing, but Louis hears the door open and close, assuming that he left.

—

Louis digs through his lo mein noodles, listening to Zayn and Liam talk all lovey-dovey to each other for twenty minutes straight was enough for him to tune both of them out. The salty smell of food fills their tiny living room, wafting through the air. Louis runs his fingers through Clifford's curly fur as he stares at the wall of pictures across the room. He doesn't start paying attention until Zayn nudges him in the leg, reaching up from the floor.

"You hate Harry?!" Liam asks, eyes wide as he stares at Louis, waiting for an answer. Of course Zayn would bring up the topic of Harry and of course Liam loves Harry too. Louis wants to drown in his noodles until he lives in a noodle world where no Harry Styles exists and he can watch friends and eat Chinese food until he dies from extreme sodium levels.

"Can we please not talk about him right now? I just back from spending eight hours across from him and just thinking of his face is making me nauseous." Yes, he's being dramatic. But he deserves to be dramatic in his own home. Him and Harry have barely spoken since their argument on Monday and honestly it's the most peaceful Louis has ever felt. If only he could go home to people who didn't know Harry existed. That would be nice.

"So... yeah — I can safely assume you do hate him," Liam laughs, munching on his dumplings. "I don't really know him that well, but he seems nice to me." He shrugs.

"Yeah, that's because he literally switches personalities when talking to other people. He's a total asshole to me," Louis grumbles, poking at his noodles with a little more aggression.

Liam spares a glance towards Zayn and the boy sighs before turning to Louis, lips twisting apprehensively. "Uh... Lou?" Zayn calls from his spot of the carpet, catching Louis' eyes. "He sort of invited all of us to this party at his flat on Sunday — and I told him we would only go if I could invite you too."

Louis' eyes widen, sitting up in his seat. Clifford makes a grumpy noise and shifts away from him. "Are you serious, Z? Please tell me you're joking."

Zayn shakes his head, looking slightly amused. "No, Lou. I'm serious. I think you two need to mend things and some good ol' quality time can do that," He smiles innocently, placing a hand on his heart to feign sincerity but Louis has a feeling this is some sneaky plan.

"I'm not going to his house, mate. He'll probably murder me and you'll never find the body." Louis emphasizes his words with a spooky voice, stuffing a whole clump of noodles past his lips.

"Lou, I'm serious. This would really mean a lot to me." Zayn gives him this sad look, knowing Louis can't resist his brown eyes and stupid perfectly shaped eyebrows. Louis groans around his mouth full of food.

"Fine," He answers after swallowing. Louis gives in too easily. A part of him is giving up on the idea of Zayn not talking to Harry anymore. He'll just take his own car and then leave after ten minutes before Harry tries to poison him or worse — talk to him. "Can't believe I have to see him every day this week."

Zayn rolls his eyes at Louis' complaining. "I'm sure you'll survive."

Once Saturday rolls around and Louis is driving to work, it feels a lot like he won't survive. He didn't bother putting on his normal work clothes, instead opting for some jeans and one of Zayn's comfortable hoodies. He considers turning around and going back home about seven times before he actually arrives at the large building, reluctantly dragging himself out of his car and cursing once the cold breeze hits him. He rubs his hands together as he jogs towards the drop-off garage, eager to get inside where there's heating vents.

Of course Harry is there when he pulls the heavy door open, light from outside seeping into the dimly lit room but then filtering away once it shuts behind him. He reaches over to flick the light switch on, not even bothering to ask why Harry was just standing in the dark like a weirdo. He doesn't care, anyway.

"Hey," Harry greets. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, leaning against large boxes of paper that seem to fill the entire garage. His voice echoes against the walls, nothing but them making any noise in the quiet place.

Louis just hums in acknowledgement, hoping that's enough not to make things awkward as he lifts himself up to sit on a short stack of boxes. It's not the most comfortable sitting arrangement and things get even worse when he feels Harry's eyes on him, but Louis is going to power through it. There's absolutely no way he's giving up just because he can't stand Harry. That hasn't stopped him so far from getting this promotion and it won't stop him now.

After only ten minutes of silence, Harry speaks up again. "You know... you can leave, if you want. I'll wait for the truck."

Louis looks over at him, eyes narrowed. "How noble of you," He mutters sarcastically. "You just wanna take all the credit, don't be so obvious about it."

This is the most they've spoken to each other since Monday, and Louis can't help but be frustrated that Harry is still being a jerk. Of course he would want Louis to leave, just so he can run to Mr. Frederick and tell him that Louis left in the middle of the favor he asked them to do. Harry always puts on this selfless, goody-two-shoes act, like he wasn't yelling at Louis as recent as the beginning of the week. Louis shifts his position, one of the lids to the boxes digging into his thigh uncomfortably.

"I was just trying to be nice," Harry retorts, gaze lowered to the floor. Louis looks over and rolls his eyes when he sees that the man is practically pouting in his spot a few feet away. His feelings get hurt so easily, yet Louis is the child?

There's a beat of silence where Louis considers offering Harry the same thing. Telling him he can leave and won't tell Mr. Frederick about it, just so they don't have to sit here together waiting for some truck to arrive all morning. But he decides against it, sparking up more interaction will just result in other petty argument.

Harry is the one to break the silence once again, lasting about fifteen minutes this time. Louis was beginning to feel his eyes droop tiredly, but Harry's voice causes an unpleasant zip to straighten out his spine. "Are you coming with Zayn and Liam tomorrow?" He asks, voice almost to a whisper despite them being completely alone.

Louis hesitates to answer, stuffing his hands back into the pockets of his jacket when it starts to get chilly again. He avoids eye contact with Harry, instead looking out the windows of the garage to see when the truck approaches. "Zayn wants me to go, so..." He trails off, not wanting Harry to think he actually wants to go to some stupid party at his flat. That's not the ideal way he usually likes to spend his Sundays.

"You don't have to," Harry responds, shrugging his shoulders. "But it's really important to them that we don't fight anymore — "

"I know what's important to Zayn," Louis states firmly, eyes blazing in Harry's direction. "And it's not just my fault that we fight so much. You're the one who made everything a competition between us in the first place."

"Louis, can you please let me speak?" Harry sighs. Louis is too caught off guard from being referred to by his first name that he couldn't even form a response if he wanted to. Hearing his name from Harry's mouth feels weird, something unfamiliar swooping in his stomach and leaving him speechless. "It's obvious that you don't like me, but it's important to me that I get to spend time with Zayn and Liam cause I actually want to their friend, but Zayn is holding back because you hate me so much," He explains softly, eyes still averted. "So... can we just set everything aside when they're around?"

Louis fiddles with the zipper of his jacket, waiting to respond simply because he knows it gets Harry all agitated.

"Fine," He accepts. "But only if you never call me by first name again."

"Can't promise anything." A slow grin adorns Harry's face, dimples carving his cheeks and eyes suddenly bright like he's thought of something funny. "It's cute when you're all surprised like that."

Harry hasn't tried to creepily flirt with Louis in a while, and Louis is realizing regretfully that he most definitely prefers when Harry hates him. It's a lot less disturbing.

"Yeah, no. I'm enforcing silence in you until the truck comes," Louis says, quirking an eyebrow. Harry huffs in exasperation but otherwise complies.

The truck eventually arrives about an hour after Frederick said that it would in his email. Harry sorts everything out with the driver and explains their situation, waving his hands as he talks. The driver doesn't look too thrilled about having to drive all the way down and back again, but falls for Harry's stupid charm just like every other person in London. Except Louis apparently.

They stay pretty quiet the rest of the time they're in the cold, eerily silent garage, with the exception of Harry suggesting games to pass the time. Louis only grumbles incoherently in response, wishing he could turn off his ears so he didn't have to listen to Harry talk anymore. This is worse than sitting with him at work, because at least when they're in the office he has something to distract himself.

Once the guys come back with the shipment of paper, all four of them unload all the boxes. Strength isn't Louis' number one asset — he's pretty proud of his bum, though — so when they're carrying the boxes, he just awkwardly takes one at a time while everybody else is taking two or three. Show-offs. He can tell Harry wants to laugh at him and he has resist the urge to punch him straight in his jaw. Once again, violence is not the answer. Unless Harry is blatantly mocking him, and then it is.

—

The first thing Louis thought of when Harry said they should put all of their differences aside while they're around Zayn and Liam, was just to completely ignore him all together. So that's exactly what he does once he arrives at Harry's apartment, he can feel the man's eyes on him immediately while he's walking through the place trying to find his friends, who left a couple minutes before him. Zayn clearly expected Louis to need to be dragged away kicking and screaming to go to the party, so he was pretty reluctant to leave without him. Louis considered it for a moment, but ultimately decided he didn't want to let Zayn down. So he showed up, already counting down from ten minutes in his head.

"Hey."

Harry is appearing in front of him swiftly with a sheepish smile, just before he steps into the kitchen. Louis is already overwhelmed by the number of people in each room, the last thing he needs is an annoying little bug nagging at him as he walks around. But then Louis remembers the deal he made, and knows Zayn will find them any second now. He doesn't want his friend to find Louis with Harry in a chokehold, so he folds his hands behind his back.

"Am I allowed to get a drink? Or do you not have anything because being a spawn of the devil doesn't require hydration?" Louis tilts his head to the side to feign genuine curiosity.

Harry's lips tug down, happy expression faltering for a moment. "You said you would be nice," He reminds him, poking Louis' shoulder playfully. Louis swats his hand away with a grimace.

"Zayn and Liam aren't even around. But maybe I would be nicer if you showed me where the beer was?" He suggests, eyebrows raising. It's barely five o'clock in the evening but he needs alcohol if he's going to stay longer than the ten minutes that he planned to. He can already tell Harry has been drinking and is in one of his odd flirty moods.

Harry gestures for Louis to follow him with a wave of his hand, leading Louis into the cleanly kitchen and towards the refrigerator. He's pretty sure he could've easily found it himself, but is too distracted by the freakishly organized state of the kitchen to mention it. Harry rummages through the fridge for a moment before pulling out a can of beer and turning to hand it to Louis, pulling out another one for himself as well.

"Thank you." Louis takes it from Harry's palm and cracks it open. Harry leans against the fridge that's even taller than him, clearing his throat.

"So," He starts, flicking at his can distractedly. "I was — "

"Lou! Glad you made it." Zayn interrupts Harry without even realizing and Louis internally thanks him and literally any spirit that was by his side. God only knows what idiotic thing Harry would've said if it weren't for the friends approaching them. Zayn squeezes Louis' shoulder with a cup in his other hand, Liam following behind and greeting Harry kindly.

"Yep, I'm here." Louis laughs, leaning away from Harry and towards Zayn instead. He's hoping Zayn pulls him away from the insufferable man on his left, but knows that's unlikely since this is his friend's devious plan to set them up. Louis needs to get new friends.

"Did you guys find the playing cards?" Harry asks, directing his question to Liam and Zayn. His eyes are so much greener when they're not in fluorescent lighting, so much more color to his face. There's not many times Louis takes a second to just look at Harry, since Harry takes up all the time looking at him instead. There's not a lot that he hasn't noticed already before, but everything is more saturated, like Harry thrives in the environment of his own home.

"Of course." A smile stretches across Zayn's face, as Liam holds up a box of cards.

"Zayn wasn't much help," Liam muses softly, nudging Zayn's arm. Zayn only rolls his eyes with a simple smile, and then they change the subject to what kind of game they should play. Louis glances around as they talk, observing the kind of people at the party. There's music playing but it's not obnoxious or loud, just a couple people fidgeting with the stereo in the sitting room. Louis doesn't know a single person here, except maybe a couple people he recognizes from work. Louis isn't friends with anybody in the office except Alyssa, and he absently wonders how Harry gets along with this many people enough to invite them over to his home.

After a way too long discussion about what card game was best to play, they finally decide on Spoons. Which Louis only knows how to play because his sister used to force him to with her when they visited their grandparents' house since there was nothing else to do. Harry has small kitchen table across the thin room and they all sit down, legs smushed together to fit on either side. Louis has never been to such a tame party in his entire life, but he supposes there's nothing more he should've expected from someone like Harry.

"Louis, that's not how the game works," Harry chuckles, picking Louis' card back up that he threw out and handing it to him.

"Oh, I didn't know you wrote the rule book," Louis grumbles as he passes a card to Liam, who takes it gingerly and observes the hand he has. "And what did I say about calling me that?"

"My apologies," Harry responds, but something about the way he's grinning broadly seems less than apologetic. Louis just ignores it, choosing to think about kittens and flowers whenever he wants to punch him in the face. He shrugs cluelessly when he spots Zayn across from him, smiling knowingly like there's an inside joke that Louis doesn't understand.

People are coming up to Harry constantly through out the time that Louis is at the party, trying to talk to him and bringing him into their conversations. Louis actually cannot fathom that this many people enjoy Harry's presence and actively seek it out. It makes him want to ask every single of them how they survive a conversation with Styles without strangling him.

Every time Harry even looks in Louis' direction, Zayn is smirking proudly and Louis couldn't possibly be more confused. He doesn't understand why Zayn is so adamant on Louis and Harry getting together, when he's made it very clear that he doesn't even like Harry as a friend let alone romantically or otherwise.

When Louis wins his third round in a row, he takes a moment to brag but then eventually standing up, taking his empty beer can with him. "I should head out." He points his thumb towards the entryway of the kitchen. Two hours is a pretty long time to stay at a party he didn't even want to go to in the first place, he feels accomplished. "Thank you, Styles, for the beer. And I'll see you at home." Louis walks over to ruffle Zayn's hair and receives a squawk of protest in return.

"You're leaving already? It's not even eight o'clock yet." Harry frowns as he checks the time on his phone. His cheeks have started to glow a soft pink color, growing more in pigment after every drink he finishes. "Is my party boring you?"

"Want me to answer that honestly?" Louis quirks an eyebrow, already pulling out his keys.

"You can't drive home, Lou, you've had two beers," Liam chimes in. Realization dawns on him and Louis visibly deflates, all hope of escaping Hell popping like a balloon. He never thought alcohol would be the one to betray him tonight.

Louis sighs and walks back around the table to slump back into his chair. "I'll get you some water," Harry offers, tapping the table once before walking across the room towards his wooden cabinets.

"God, I can't believe I have to stay here even longer," Louis whines, resting his head in his hand.

"Lou, are you serious right now?" Zayn asks, eyebrows raised as he leans closer to talk to Louis. His voice is lowered like he doesn't want anyone to overhear him.

Louis frowns, confused now more than ever. "Serious about what?" He feels like he should lower his voice too out of instinct, but isn't even sure why.

"That guy has, like, the biggest crush on you. It's so obvious," Zayn tells him, eyes lighting up as he speaks. Louis glances around, trying to figure out who his friend is talking about. He doesn't see many other people in the kitchen, only a couple people that he doesn't know and Harry who is still searching through his cup cabinet.

"What guy?"

"Harry, you idiot." Zayn's enthusiasm fizzles away when he sees how slow Louis is to catch up with what he's talking about.

Louis scoffs. "Wait — what? I'm confused."

"He's been practically undressing you with his eyes this entire time," Zayn emphasizes. Louis spares a glance in Harry's direction, who has been caught up talking to some woman with red hair. He knows how delusional Zayn is when it comes to Harry and Louis' situation and now for some reason he's convinced Harry is into him? That's ridiculous.

"Zayn, stop. I'm not stupid." Louis rolls his eyes. He can't believe his friend thinks he would fall for that. "Styles doesn't have some crush on me. This isn't high school."

Liam and Zayn share a look, turning back to Louis with their hands folded like this is an intervention. Louis leans back and crosses his arms over his chest stubbornly, challenging them to tell him more lies about whatever they've made up in their heads.

"Oh c'mon, don't be daft. He's been flirting with you for the past two hours and staring at you non-stop," Liam adds on, seemingly more done with Louis than Zayn is.

Louis feels himself slowly sink into his chair, slightly embarrassed at the thought of other people noticing the way Harry stares at him. "He just does that sometimes." Louis shrugs, checking to make sure Harry isn't close enough to hear them. "It's not anything new."

"Oh my god, you are so oblivious." Zayn laughs, shaking his head. "He's totally in love with y — "

Louis shushes Zayn quickly with a frantic wave of his hands when he sees Harry approaching them again. His chest tightens anxiously at the idea of Harry knowing what they're talking about. Just acknowledging the way Harry acts around him makes him feel more than uncomfortable. He supposes there's a chance Styles finds him attractive, which would explain all the staring, but that doesn't change how much he hates Louis. It's so obvious he can't stand to be around Louis just as much as Louis can't stand to be around him. It would be honestly laughable to even suggest Harry has feelings for him.

"Here you go." Harry slides a glass of water in front of him before sitting down, offering a small smile. Louis just nods and awkwardly pulls the cup closer to him. "Did I miss anything?" Styles asks, collecting all the cards and getting ready to shuffle them.

"Actually, yes." Zayn nods firmly and Louis' heart rate picks up. "Me and Liam were curious to know if you're straight? Because we think we know someone that we could set you up with," He smirks. Louis will literally murder him in his sleep. He takes a sip of his water to distract himself from the urge of just running away.

"Um...not even a little bit," Harry laughs, dimples appearing as he hands everyone their share of cards. "But I'm not really interested in being set up. Thank you, though."

"Oh, really?" A spark of confidence flashes in Zayn's eyes. "Is there someone you're interested in?" He asks. Both Liam and Zayn lean forward, as if waiting intensely for the answer. Louis has never wanted to leave a conversation so bad in his entire life. He couldn't care less if Harry has some crush on him, it wouldn't change anything. He's still a jerk. Liam and Zayn just need to let it go.

Harry coughs into his fist, shrugging like he doesn't know how to respond. "I don't know — I mean, no. Not really. There's no one." He shakes his head quickly. Louis face palms, Harry is just making things ten times worse for him.

—

The second summer rolls around and the weather starts to get warm, the office turns into an actual oven. The building's owner is so cheap and never offers to turn on the air conditioning for them, and everybody is too scared to turn it on themselves and risk not getting their lease renewed. Louis is sweating through his suit by the end of lunch, and it feels like his eyebrows are melting off. He watches bitterly as Harry sits across from him, completely comfortable with his tiny fan and plugged in and facing him directly.

Louis keeps forgetting to buy his own fan, and kicks himself every morning when he walks in and sees that Harry has his. His stupid curls blow in the wind like he's in a Bay Watch movie or something and Louis wants to cry.

He lets his head fall onto the top of his desk, papers crunching beneath his forehead.

"Did you pass out?" Harry asks stupidly, poking the top of Louis' head with the other end of his pen. Louis tries to push him away blindly, groaning in protest.

"No, Styles. I'm just dying."

He can hear Harry chuckle, typing away on his keyboard. "If you brought your own fan like everybody else, you wouldn't have this problem," He sing-songs. Louis hears him fiddling around with the fan and then there's cool air blowing into his hair, down his back and he almost shivers with pleasure. Louis keeps his head down, not wanting to show Harry how much he likes it. There's no way he's admitting that he's forgotten to buy a fan for the past five days.

Suddenly the cold breeze is gone and Louis makes a low noise, lifting his head up lazily to see why Harry stopped. Styles' green eyes are focused on him, lips pressed together like there's something he wants to say but won't.

"I'll pay you fifty pounds for your fan."

Harry lets out a startled laugh, the sound drowning in the noise of everybody else chatting around them. People get too energetic and chipper when the weather warms up.

"That's a ridiculous amount to pay for a little tiny fan, Louis. Make better financial decisions," He insists as Louis glares at him for saying his first name. Harry just bites his lip, swaying back and forth in his chair. Louis straightens out his back, stretching as it cracks and pops. He's only twenty-three and he already needs to see a chiropractor on a monthly basis.

"Whatever, Styles. I'm gonna go get a cold drink to pour over my head." He groans as he stands up, sweat trickling down his neck. Harry leans forward with his eyebrows raised interestedly, lips curving upwards.

"I'd like to see that," He murmurs, resting his chin against his palm.

Louis rolls his eyes and walks away, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. He pushes the door open to the break room, and is relieved to see no one is in there except Alyssa.

"Hey, babes," She greets, sipping on her cup of tea.

"Hey, how's your day going so far?" He walks over to the fridge and scans through it, deciding to steal some sugar-free energy drink from the bottom shelf. He'll just replace it tomorrow and hope whoever put them there doesn't notice, since there's almost ten others beside it.

Alyssa just shrugs, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's been the usual. I heard you went to Styles' party last weekend, sorry I couldn't make it." Her eyebrows are raised and Louis knows she's expecting some kind of explanation.

"We have a couple mutual friends and they wanted me to go," Louis tells her simply, cracking open his drink.

She hums, nodding slowly. "I'm happy to hear that you guys can be in the same room outside of work," Alysa states, leaning her hip against the counter. "I was planning on inviting you both to my birthday gathering, it's gonna be kinda small. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Louis answers immediately. It's her birthday, he would never tell her who she can or can't invite. "Wish you would've told me sooner so I could think of a good gift to give you." He smiles.

"You don't have to get me anything, just bringing you and your cute bum is enough," She teases, waving goodbye before she goes to walk out. Louis decides to stay in the break room a little longer, taking a break from the office right outside the door and sipping on his drink.

He's tempted to just open the freezer and stand beside it, but before he can go through with his weird plan to cool off, Harry pushes open the door, interrupting his scheme. It's kind of annoying how Harry is always following him in here, like he can't stand to sit by himself for more than five minutes.

"Hi." Harry gives him a dimpled grin, but stops in his tracks when he sees what Louis is holding. "Did you steal one of my drinks?"

Louis chokes on the sip he was just trying to swallow, hiding the half empty can behind his back as if Harry hasn't already seen it. "Um — no."

"I literally saw it, Louis." He laughs, stepping closer and pointing to the arm Louis has tucked between his back and the counter.

"Stop calling me that, it's weird," Louis grumbles, pushing Harry back with a hand to his chest when he steps a little too close. Harry has absolutely no boundaries, but Louis can't be too mean right now, because he just unknowingly stole one of Harry's drinks from the fridge. Which is a universal no-no in offices all around the world.

"You know, you could've just asked and I would've said you could."

"I didn't know they were yours." He shrugs. "And besides, we both know you would've let me die of dehydration before giving me one of your drinks." He steps out from between the counter and Harry, stepping away but still facing the man as he talks. His sleeves start to slip back down and Louis rolls them back up again, his head throbbing with the threat of a headache. This heat is killing him.

Harry's smile drops a little, shaking his head. "That's not true. I..." He trails off, like he's not sure where to continue. Louis presses his lips together, wondering how horrible it would be to throw the drink in Harry's face. For Harry to just blatantly lie and pretend he would've given out one of his drinks no problem, especially to Louis, is so frustrating.

"We're completely alone, Styles. You don't have to act all high and mighty." Louis sighs, lifting a hand to rub at his temple.

Harry is fully frowning now, arms crossed over his chest defensively. "I don't understand why you always do this, Louis — "

"Stop calling me that!"

"You always say that I hate you and act like my number one goal in life is to make you miserable, but — I just — " Harry huffs, shaking his head and tugging on his curls as he pushes them out of his face. He seems to sweating a little bit now as well, a sheet of wetness gathering around his hairline.

"Because you do, Styles. You make my life absolutely miserable and you've made it quite clear ever since we started working here that you think I'm inferior to you."

Harry keeps shaking his head, denying Louis' words before they even leave his mouth. "That's not true! Louis — just stop, that's not true."

"Then what is true?! Because from where I'm standing, it seems pretty fucking crystal clear," Louis retorts firmly, eyes blurring with anger. "All you do is criticize me and take opportunities right from underneath my feet. And as much as you don't wanna admit it to yourself, you hate me." He lets out a puff of air, getting more upset the longer Harry looks at him like he's wrong, not even taking a moment to consider it. "You're not some perfect kid who is incapable of disliking someone. Just grow the fuck up and acknowledge it."

"I don't hate you, Louis."

"Oh my god, stop saying that! Then why do you always mock me, huh? Why are you always pointing out my mistakes and talking to me like I'm completely incompetent. I mean, seriously, I've never met anyone so insufferable — "

Before Louis can finish his sentence, Harry is taking two quick strides forward and cupping Louis' cheeks, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. The words get lost between them, Harry exhaling through his nose as his lips move roughly against Louis' like this is the only solid thing in a dizzy and blurry room. Their noses bump and Louis' squeezes the can in his hand, holding it to his stomach as Harry continues to kiss him. Their mouthes slide together messily, a rushed job of something Louis wasn't expecting.

The second the situation starts to gain some clarity with Louis, and he instinctively leans into the embrace — because that's just what he does when people kiss him — Harry jumps back like he's been shocked. A deer caught in the headlights. He takes several steps back like he's afraid Louis is going to hit him and his hands fly up to cover his mouth. His pupils blown out, dark eyes darting between Louis'.

"Oh my god, I don't know why I did that — Louis, I'm so sorry. I don't even know what I was — I'm sorry," Harry rushes out, voice hoarse and mouth red and shiny from the contact. Louis' own lips are tingling and the ground sways beneath his feet, watching as Harry frantically smooths out his hair and stares at Louis like he's a bomb that's about to explode. "I should go, probably — yeah."

And then Harry is gone, practically running out of the room like he can't stand to be there any longer. Louis is left to process what the hell just happened all on his own. His head feels foggy and he clenches his eyes shut at the distinct memory of Harry's eyes on his lips while Louis yelled at him. God. Louis wipes at his mouth, wiping and wiping until the taste of Harry is gone and his insides don't feel like jello anymore. Why would Styles kiss him? In what world is that a practical way to resolve a conflict?

Louis doesn't want to go back to his desk, scared to face Harry after what just happened. He carefully sets down his drink, suddenly not so thirsty anymore. When he finally gains the courage to walk back out to the office, realizing he can't stay in the break room forever, he looks over at their adjoined desks to find them empty. Harry's bag is gone and when he walks over he sees his computer is shut off too. Great, so he just skipped for the day.

—

Louis is back at his desk Monday morning, plugging in his new tiny fan and sighing with relief when the cool air starts to generate. He misses the air conditioning from his apartment, and now he has to sit with this cheap version of it for the next several hours. He switches his computer on with a sigh, glaring at the empty desk across from him.

Styles hasn't showed up for the past three days of work, and Mr. Frederick hasn't mentioned it at all so Louis can only assume Harry called out for a family emergency or took his vacation days. It's been kind of nice to work in peace, but it didn't take long for Louis to realize that being annoyed all day is much more tolerable than being bored out of his mind. At least when Harry is here, he has someone to keep him distracted from the slow hours ticking by, second by second. Sometimes Alyssa will take pity on him and keep Louis company, but it's never for very long, since she has her own job to do.

Louis is just scribbling mindlessly on a file he should probably be reviewing, when the chair across from him rolls from under the desk and someone sits down. Louis doesn't have to look up to know who it is, he's already familiar with the routine Harry has as he turns on his computer and pulls a pen out of his bag.

"Wow, nice of you to finally show up an hour late," Louis remarks, not even attempting to disguise the bitterness in his tone. The audacity of Harry to just kiss him like that and then disappear for days, like he doesn't owe Louis an apology more than the rushed one he received while Harry was frantic and panicking.

Louis finally looks up, eyes landing on the boy in front of him. He doesn't care about the dark circles under his eyes or the wrinkle between his brows. Harry shouldn't be avoiding him. It's childish and rude. Louis wasn't the one who kissed someone out of nowhere, so he shouldn't be the one with double the amount of work. It all just gives him a huge headache, he doesn't even have enough time to wonder why the hell Harry would want to kiss him in the first place. It's a pretty dramatic way to shut him up.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't sure if I should come in today or..." Harry shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip. Louis' heart beats a little heavier, remembering barely five days ago when those lips were tangled messily in his own. He practically shakes the thoughts out of his head, pressing his pen harder into the papers beneath it.

"What a difficult decision that must've been. It's not like this is your job or anything," Louis grunts, flipping lazily through this week's magazine after pulling it from under a pile on his desk. He knows he's being ruder than necessary, but just the way Harry walked in here so casually and is still looking at him like a ticking time bomb.

"Can we talk? I feel like we should... clear the air," Harry says slowly, his cheeks flushed a dark red, embarrassed at bringing up what happened last week. Louis just shrugs, as if indifferent to it. He wants to talk about it, though, he's been wanting to talk about it ever since it happened. It just won't leave his mind, no matter what he does. He needs an explanation, a reason, just something, other than complete silence.

"Sure. Should we talk in the break room or does that pose risk of accidental kissing again?" He questions, watching as Harry blushes even darker and clears his throat.

"Um — no, that should be fine."

Louis gets up first to make his way to the small room across the office, pushing open the door and waiting for Harry to come in as well. He leans against the wall, watching the taller man step inside and awkwardly try to find a place to stand as well. There's a small beat of silence where neither of them say anything, but Louis doesn't see why he should be the one to speak first, when Harry suggested they talk in the first place.

"So uh... how was your weekend?"

"Styles, c'mon." Louis crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his weight on his left foot. "You asked to talk about what happened last week, so let's talk about it."

"Okay." Harry nods slowly, fidgeting with his fingers and averting his gaze. Of all the times he stares openly at Louis with no shame, this is the time he can't make eye contact. It's unbelievable. "So... I kissed you."

Louis waits for some continuation but nothing comes. "Yeah, I know. I was there."

"I'm sorry for doing it. I didn't mean to like — just do it without asking first or while you were upset with me," Harry elaborates, scratching at the back of his neck. "I was just hoping we could sort of forget about it? I mean, I completely understand if you're mad at me." He nods, eyes lifting to meet Louis'. "I just hope this doesn't make you hate me even more, you know? And if you want to, like, punch me or something. I wouldn't stop you."

Louis sees a hint of a smile on Harry's face and rolls his eyes, exhaling softly and letting his head fall back against the wall. After a moment of thinking, he looks back over at Harry, lifting his shoulders and dropping them back down again, completely losing hope that he'll receive any sort of explanation for why Harry kissed him.

"Yeah, okay," he murmurs, rubbing his nose. "I'm definitely okay with forgetting about it — as long you don't go all smoochy on me again."

Harry's eyes crinkle on the sides, shaking his head and looking down at his stupid pigeon-toed shoes. "I won't."

Louis just sighs and heads for the door, walking back into the office and to his desk. He's a little disappointed at how long he waited, just for Harry to say he doesn't want Louis to hate him even more. It just simply makes things more confusing and gives him absolutely no answers.

So, when he gets back to his apartment that evening, he looks for Zayn to give him answers. Sliding off his coat and dramatically tumbling onto the couch, receiving a groan in return from the napping man.

"God, Louis, I hate when you do that."

"Styles kissed me."

Zayn sits up too quickly and their heads knock together, both yelping loudly and reaching up to rub at their skulls. That did nothing to help Louis' headache. He shifts his weight further from Zayn, pulling off his shoes and then tucking his feet under his bum. He can hear Clifford padding around the couch, but he doesn't try to jump up, just settling beside their coffee table sleepily.

"Wait — did you just say Harry kissed you?"

Louis nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, last week. And he completely disappeared for days until today."

Zayn's eyes widen, hands gripping the blanket covering of his legs eagerly. "Well?! What did he say? Did he ask you out? Aww, did you guys kiss again?"

"No, no, absolutely not. Don't be gross, Zayn. None of that happened."

His friend narrows his eyes, looking suspicious. "Okay, then why are we even talking about it right now?"

"Because," Louis states firmly, pointing a finger. "He won't even tell me why he kissed me. Like, it's just so annoying. He kisses me without any warning at all and then leaves work, dumping all of his responsibilities on me. No explanation or anything."

"What do you mean he won't tell you why?" Zayn asks, incredulous. "It's because he has like the biggest most massive crush on you, ever, Lou. It's so obvious, I actually kind of feel bad for him."

"No! Don't feel bad for him," Louis huffs, eyebrows knitting together. "He's a jerk. If he fancied me then why wouldn't he just tell me that?!"

"Are you serious, right now? You look like you're gonna murder him any time he even breathes in your direction." Zayn leans to the side against their couch, poking Louis' stomach playfully. "I'd be terrified if I were him."

"So, should I just let it go? I mean, I don't want him confessing anything weird like that," He wrinkles his nose. "I'm not in the mood to deal with any of Styles' romantic feelings, to be honest."

Zayn let's out a small laugh, shaking his head fondly. "You haven't been on a date in months and now you're rejecting a cute guy who wants your attention?"

"I can't really reject someone who never asked me out in the first place," Louis responds, running his fingers through his messy hair. Zayn just rolls his eyes and lays back down, insisting that Louis let him continue his nap. Louis feels a little bit more relaxed after talking to someone about it, he got everything off of his chest and now he knows that simply forgetting about what happened is the best solution after all.

There's no reason to make things awkward at the office, and Harry most likely doesn't even have a crush on him in the first place. Zayn just thinks any guy who looks at Louis longer than two seconds is interested in him. He can't even go to the club with Zayn without his friend handing every cute guy his number. It's absolutely preposterous — but has scored him plenty of good lays, so he has no room to complain.

—

"We need eggs, noodles, zucchini, tomatoes, bread — " Louis keeps listing things off and Zayn just stares at him blankly. They took a quick trip to the grocery store across the street from their flat after realizing that their fridge was almost completely empty and only cereal filled their cabinets.

"Okay, let's just go down every aisle," Zayn suggests, already grabbing a shopping cart and rolling it to the far right of the store. Louis follows along, adding a couple things to the list and trusting Zayn not to let him run into anything as he's distracted.

They need to kind of rush to buy everything and get home within an hour. Liam and Niall are coming over later for a little movie night and it wouldn't be the best thing in the world for them to arrive before Louis and Zayn get back. Louis grabs some pop tarts and crisps, putting them in the cart before Zayn can see. He has to be a little sneaky or else Zayn will scold him for 'not eating healthy enough'. He appreciates the care, but he'd probably die if he had to eat chicken zucchini meals for the rest of his life.

They manage to speed through every aisle and check off the list one by one. Zayn can be very indecisive, but Louis has found out that rushing him just makes things worse, so he stands off to the side as Zayn tries to decide between virgin olive oil or extra virgin olive oil. A very difficult decision.

"We made it!" Louis shouts happily as they get back to apartment fifteen minutes before they needed to and all in one piece. Zayn laughs and gives Louis a high five, popping open the trunk so they can grab their groceries. They probably procrastinate going to the store often because it's an absolute pain to drag a bunch of bags all the way up to the third floor. At some point they bought these huge reusable bags to make things a little easier, but Louis is still struggling to breathe by the time they get to their front door, slumping against it as Zayn searches around for his keys.

They get everything set up before their friends arrive, laying out snacks and pulling blankets from their small closet for anybody to grab if they please. Louis is happy to get to spend some time with Niall, he hasn't seen him in a couple weeks since they're both so occupied with work, and he always manages to lift his spirits.

The boys arrive almost immediately after Zayn and Louis are finished cleaning up. Liam greets Zayn with a kiss and Niall gags jokingly, but practically tackles Louis when he spots him on the couch.

"Oh my god, Lewis. I was beginning to think you had died and forgot to invite me to the funeral," He squeezes Louis' cheeks and Louis yelps, smacking his hands away with a loud laugh.

"Shut up, the phone goes both ways, mister," He scolds softly, leaning into the hug when Niall wraps his arms around him tightly. Sometimes he forgets he has more friends outside of Zayn, Liam and Alyssa. And it's a huge comfort to have Niall around again, someone he's known since high school. Zayn is his closest friend by far, since they live together, but there's nothing like the friend you practically grew up with. And went through all your bad haircut phases with.

After a long reunion of catching up, while Liam and Zayn practically make out in the chair beside the couch, they finally start one of the movies. Louis will never understand why his friends like violent action movies so much, personally he's more a romantic comedy person, but he can never suggest one of those movies without Zayn teasing him relentlessly. Sue him if he likes to watch Love Actually during his down time. He stuffs his face with popcorn while some guy on the TV stupidly tries to jump off of a building and zip line onto another.

"That's completely unrealistic," Louis comments, chuckling to himself.

"Oh, and meeting your soulmate in your twenties isn't?" Zayn asks, peering over Niall's head to look at him. Louis didn't even bring up any romance movies. Zayn is so mean.

"Whatever," Louis grumbles, sinking further into his seat. Zayn and Liam have a quiet conversation to themselves after Zayn's question. Niall and Louis share a knowing look when they start whispering about where their relationship is going and I thought I was your soulmate? Liam asks Zayn. Louis coughs into his fist, suddenly thankful for his lack of romantic partners because he would hate to be having that kind of conversation right now.

After Liam and Zayn finally settle things, they watch a couple more movies late into the night. Louis probably shouldn't be staying up too late, since he has work tomorrow morning, but this is a special occasion with Niall's presence. They eat every bowl and plate of food clean, and don't move for about four hours. Louis' eyes are burning a little from staring at the television for so long by the time they decide to stop watching movies after they finish Pitch Perfect. Louis could probably quote every line from that movie, and wonders what kind of life he's been living for him to have that skill.

It's nice to get his thoughts off of everything else for a little bit. When he's just alone in his room and trying to get Clifford not to lick his face while he's sleeping, his mind wanders a bit and he just gets too far into his own head. Everything has been so mixed up and confusing lately. But Frederick will decide soon who gets the promotion to be an Editorial Assistant and no matter what his decision is, he gets to live a life without an annoying man bothering him constantly, and that's definitely something to look forward to.

—

"Lou-eh!" Alyssa shouts, arms draping over Louis' shoulders the second he walks two steps into her flat. He chuckles, accepting the hug but trying not to breathe in through his nose because she absolutely reeks of liquor. He opted for a nice sweater and black skinny jeans tonight, not wanting to dress too fancy but also wanting to look nice for the special occasion.

"Happy birthday, babes. Are you having fun?" He asks, pulling away to get a good look at her birthday outfit. She has a cute little sundress on, and she twirls around to show it off as Louis slides his shoes off.

"Lots of fun. Styles knows how to make these fruity drinks with lots of pineapple, you've gotta try one, Lou." She wraps a tight hand around his wrist and drags him through the crowds of people he doesn't know. Her apartment is pretty big and decorated exactly like Louis would've expected, bright but classic.

Alyssa leads him into the kitchen, dodging people left and right until they stop abruptly in front Harry, who seems to be chatting with a woman about her sandals. Alyssa pokes insistently at his arm, trying to grab the man's attention. Harry finally turns after politely excusing himself, he smiles at first when he sees Alyssa, but it falters slightly as his eyes land on Louis.

"Oh... hey," Harry greets with a soft voice, and Louis can barely he hear him over the music.

"Wow, it's like I'm not even here," Alyssa laughs, letting go of Louis' wrist and brushing her hair off her shoulder.

"Sorry." Harry shakes his head and looks down at her, at least five inches taller. "What's up?"

"I want you to make Louis the best... no, sweetest! — actually, no, fruitiest drink you can. Okay? Something strong," Alyssa demands, stuttering excessively but the point comes across clear. Harry chuckles, already grabbing a cup from the counter beside him.

"You got it, boss."

Alyssa turns back to Louis, who doesn't dare protest a demand from the birthday girl, despite every bone in his body wanting to get as far away from Harry as possible. She smiles, placing her hands on Louis' shoulder. "I'm going to go talk with some friends from my yoga class. You better be nice," She states firmly, before walking off and not waiting for a response.

Louis awkwardly moves closer to Harry after a moment of hesitation, watching him grab different bottles and pour them into the cup without even measuring. His movements are sluggish and he seems to already be a little tipsy, Louis can tell by the red splotches gracing his cheeks delicately. He rests his hip against the counter top, lifting his chin to gaze up at Harry from this close.

"What're you making me, Styles?"

Harry spares a quick glance, his colorful eyes flicking down Louis' face. "Something strong, like Alyssa said," he states simply, grabbing a couple of pieces of pineapple. Louis takes a look around at the other people in the kitchen, some talking closely to hear each other and some making plates of food from the large dishes across the room. "Here you go." Harry sticks a plastic cup in his direction, the liquid almost spilling over. "Don't be too honest."

Louis finds himself taking a sip to disguise the quirk of his lips, nose scrunching at the sour taste. "That's absolutely disgusting." He nods, looking down at the contents of the cup. It's so strong that he's scared if he takes another sip he'll already be sloshed. Louis looks back up to see Harry just staring at him, eyes glossed over like he's got something on his mind. "What?" Louis asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. He can't help but be self conscious, standing this close to Harry while he basically analyzes him. He doesn't care what the man thinks, though, it doesn't really matter.

"Sorry, I was jus' thinkin'," Harry mumbles, mirroring Louis and leaning his hip against the counter as well. He grabs a cup from the back of the counter, probably one that he saved for himself.

Louis wants to drop it, just walk away and find someone else to talk to. But he doesn't know anybody else and he's too curious for his own good. "About what?" He doesn't care, really. But if whatever Harry is thinking about included Louis, he wants to know. Maybe it's the small sip of his drink that he had, or maybe he's losing brain cells every time he spends another hour with Styles.

The man in front of him shakes his head, like he's telling himself not to answer. He's so close that Louis can smell him, something like vanilla and the fruit he's been cutting up wafting around. It's overwhelming in a way that Louis wants to label as unpleasant.

"You know what? Never mind." Clarity hits Louis and he's taking a step back from Harry, swallowing roughly. "I'm gonna go find something to do. See you around."

So then he's walking away and wiggling through the groups of people, chastising himself for even attempting to make conversation with Harry. He can feel the man's eyes on him as he walks away, a tingling feeling that runs down his back that he's grown to be familiar with. He always knows, and worries that it's something he's getting too used to.

Louis spends hours mingling with people he doesn't even know. Every thirty minutes Alyssa comes up to him with another fruity drink for him and he sips it down every time. The more he drinks, the less he thinks about Styles and the better they start to taste. The people that know Alyssa are always so nice and just as down to earth as her. He ends up chatting with some guy about football for most of his time, he already forgot his name but he's pretty sure the guy doesn't know his name either, so it's fine.

Alyssa stops bringing him drinks when she gets sucked into a game of beer pong with a group of loud people. But that's probably for the better, because Louis' head is getting fuzzy and everybody's faces are starting to blurr together. He walks to the kitchen, throwing away his cup and looking to see what kind of food is laid out. Louis grabs eagerly at a cupcake on the far right of the counter top, taking a huge bite out of it.

An arm brushes across his back as someone approaches him from his left, having to squeeze past a pair of people loading their plates up with food.

Of course it's Styles, because no matter what Louis does, no matter how many drinks he has, no matter how many people he hides behind to avoid him, Harry will always be there. That agitated sizzle in Louis' stomach will never settle. He just can't get rid of him. Harry just won't let that happen.

"I was thinking about the time I kissed you," Harry states blatantly, like he's been waiting to approach Louis about it. He's standing too close, Louis can smell him again and doesn't really mind it this time, but a part of him wants to push him away, tell Harry to find someone else to bother. Not even a hello or nod in greeting, just bombarding Louis with a reminder of what he's been working to forget for the past two weeks.

"Okay." Louis licks the icing off his lips lazily, setting down his half eaten cupcake. "I thought we agreed to forget about that?" He places a hand on his hip, sighing softly. An argument with Harry isn't what he wanted tonight, or something he planned on dealing with. It's exhausting and the alcohol in his system makes him dizzy.

"I know." Harry licks his lips, green eyes blazing as he stares into Louis'. He holds himself up with a hand pressing into the marble counter top, thumb brushing against the waistband of Louis' jeans. "Can't stop thinking about it, though."

Louis takes a deep breath in, and almost forgets to let it out. His reaction time is slow, it's hard to respond when Harry is leaning even closer and looking at Louis like he wants to jump his bones. A tingle travels down his spine, straightening under the watchful eyes.

"Styles," Louis warns, a bit weakly — when Harry's eyes trail down to his mouth. He's seen this expression before, eyes dark and hazy, lips parted like he's ready to lean in.

"Can I...?" Harry asks, whispering but Louis can hear him over everything else. His heart is thudding deafeningly in his ears, a little voice in the back of his head screaming at him that this is a bad idea. But if his dick has a voice, it's yelling at him to just kiss Styles already. God, this is absolute torture. Hating someone so much, but then knowing exactly what it would feel like to kiss them, how soft it is.

Louis finds himself nodding before his brain can catch up, and Harry doesn't waste any time at all, ducking his head down to slot his lips right against Louis' like a fucking puzzle piece. It's slow and messy at first, Harry being too cautious with him. They sink into it softly. Louis' hands find the curve of Harry's waist and pulls him closer, trying to deepen the embrace so it doesn't feel so intimate. This isn't him kissing his partner in the middle of a friend's birthday party, this is simply just a drunk type of horny that makes you do stupid things.

Harry moans deeply against his mouth, fingers twisting into the front of Louis' sweater and leaning into him.

Louis pulls away after one more kiss, breathing heavily and letting his hand drop from Harry's body. "Follow me."

The room is too crowded to snog someone he would rather die than be seen with. So, he's taking Styles somewhere more private. If that leads to something more than kissing lazily, then so be it. Louis can't be trusted to make rational decisions when he's had this many drinks. Harry is pretty slow to follow orders. Louis turns around to find him just standing in the same spot, eyes wide and lips still parted like he's not sure what to do.

"Oh — you're serious? Okay, yeah." Harry jumps into action. Louis leads him through the clumps of strangers, not bothering to see if Harry is still behind him as he searches for an empty room that doesn't look like Alyssa's bedroom. He very well can't do something like that in his friend's room on her birthday. He's not an animal. "Over here." Harry tugs him quickly into a dark, empty bathroom.

Louis shuts the door behind them and locks it, while Harry flicks the light switch on. It's a nice bathroom, but Louis doesn't have much time to look around once Harry's mouth is on his again and large, clumsy hands roam all over his body. Louis exhales sharply when Harry's lips travel down to his neck, letting his head fall back to expose more of his skin as Harry sucks and licks marks into the line of his throat.

Curls are tickling his chin and the smell of alcohol makes him queasy, but hell, he would be lying if he said the mouth exploring his jaw and neck didn't feel amazing. Louis hasn't had this much undivided attention in months, and Harry seems more than willing to give that to him. Who is he to deny it?

Harry pulls away, lips already swollen and eyes glazed over with arousal. "I um — " Harry stutters, stumbling a little bit as Louis presses him into the wall roughly. Louis presses slow, wet kisses down the curve of Harry's jaw, too lost in the feeling to care about any previous way he felt about the man before this. He's already hard and Harry smells like something warm.

The room spins around them and Harry lets out a high pitched noise, squirming under Louis' hard grip. "Oh god, Louis. Please," He begs, but Louis isn't even sure what he's begging for exactly. He just continues letting his mouth roam further down the side of his neck, tugging the collar of his shirt to the side to kiss across Harry's broad shoulder. "I wanna touch you, Louis. Please."

One of Harry's hands slide between their bodies that are practically fitted against each other, fingers tugging at the waistband of Louis' jeans. It's an unspoken question, waiting for Louis' permission. "Jesus, you can touch me, Styles," Louis breathes out, rutting against Harry's palm that moves down to press gently against his bulge through the material of his jeans.

Harry's bright red lips tug down a little, pulling his head back to get a good look at Louis' face. "Want you to call me something else before I touch you," He says stubbornly, but continues rubbing his palm against Louis' erection. Louis is about to burst at the seams, too aroused to be irritated by Harry's usual annoying qualities.

"You're so fucking difficult," Louis groans, pressing his face into the curve of Harry's shoulder to escape from his intense gaze. He tries to muffle any noises he might make as he chases the friction of Harry's touch, not wanting Harry to know how turned on he is. "Fine," He gives in, voice cracking. "What do you want me to call you?"

Harry's hand is so big and presses into Louis' cock with just the right amount of pressure. Louis doesn't want to come like this, but he will if Harry doesn't hurry up and unbutton his trousers. "Something nice. Like — like a pet name or something," the man murmurs, a smile in his voice. He must be really drunk if he thinks Louis is actually going to call him something cute and sweet.

But then Harry is finally tugging on the button of his jeans and all rationality flies out of the window. "Okay, okay. Fine, I'll call you babe. Does that make you happy?" Louis rushes out, chest heaving with anticipation as Harry teases him, only the tip of his fingers dipping into Louis' briefs.

He can feel Harry shake his head and Louis lifts his chin to glare at him, sexually frustrated and wondering why he even involved himself in this situation if he isn't allowed to get off. A soft moan accidentally slips past his lips when Harry tugs his pants down his thighs, and he tucks his face back into the man's shoulder out of pure shame. The alcohol is allowing Harry to affect him too much, making him fall apart bit by bit like the petals off a flower.

"That's too impersonal," Harry insists, now pressing his palm against Louis' cock with only the material of his briefs separating their skin.

Louis drags his lips up the line of Harry's throat, feeling the man shiver under his touch. The room is hot, like the walls can't hold their heavy breathing. He rests his hands on Harry's chest, letting his lips ghost over Harry's earlobe. The boy inhales sharply in return. "I hate you so much," He sighs, breath tickling the shell of Harry's ear. "Suck me off and I'll call you darling for the rest of the night," Louis whispers, pressing Harry harder into the wall until he can feel the warmth of Harry's skin seeping through his clothes. If that's even possible.

Harry's mouth drops open, long eyelashes fluttering as he is hips squirm helplessly, his own erection practically tenting his trousers like a teenager. "You have no idea how badly I want that," Harry murmurs, voice hoarse and deeper than ever. He spins them around, dropping to his knees once Louis is resting against the white wall. Louis can't even take a deep breath before he's completely exposed, cock leaking pre-cum as Harry mouthes wetly at the underside of his dick.

Louis groans, fingers lacing through Harry's curls and pulling roughly. It was supposed to be an act to show Harry that he still despises him with every fiber of his being, but the man moans like it's the best thing ever, eyes watering as he stares up at Louis. "Do that again. Do it again," Harry repeats, hands grasping desperately at Louis' thighs, putting his mouth back on Louis' cock.

"Not until I get close," He tells him. Because it's absolutely ridiculous that he's been hard for fifteen minutes now and Harry has yet to even attempt to get him off, despite begging for it just moments ago. Harry immediately understands, sinking his mouth onto Louis' cock as far as he can go, until he's choking on it. Louis lets his head fall back against the wall, moaning softly. A part of him wants to watch Harry take him down, a wetness gathering in his eyes as he tries to go even further. But something about it is too much. This is all just too much. All he wants is some relief, but the idea that Harry is making him feel so good lights an angry fire in the pit of his stomach.

Harry pulls back to pay extra attention to the head, tongue swirling around it. Louis knows Harry is watching his reactions, he wouldn't expect anything else. Louis rewards Harry with a tug of his soft and shiny hair, absolutely drowning in the feeling of Harry's warm and wet — so wet — mouth sucking around him.

"Yeah, that's good, darling. You're doing really good," Louis admits breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling and letting his jaw drop in a silent moan as Harry sucks him down harder, practically purring at the praises.

It doesn't take long for Louis to come, his whole body tensing up and then finally releasing the second he peers down at Harry. His stomach swoops at the sight of Harry's red, puffy lips wrapped around him, tears streaking down his cheeks. Green eyes as bright as ever. He likes when Harry is down on his knees, he's too busy sucking on Louis to ramble annoyingly and isn't making Louis want to actually get violent.

After swallowing all of it down, Harry pulls off, licking his lips and looking up at Louis like he's the most important thing in the world right now. Louis wants to leave so badly, put his pants back on and move to a different city so he never has to see Harry again. But that would be the biggest asshole thing to do ever, probably. Louis watches carefully as Harry tucks him back into his briefs and helps him pull his pants back up. The man has the nerve to smile shyly as he stands up straight again as if he didn't just suck the life out of Louis through his dick.

"Wanna kiss you again," Harry whispers, voice scratchy but still deep. Louis pulls him in for a kiss before he has to look at Styles any longer, with his stupid dimples and shiny eyes. Louis has never been fond of people who won't kiss you after you suck them off, and he's definitely not one of those people himself. Harry smiles against his mouth, giggling and tugging on Louis' sweater. They're both still so drunk, and Louis could lick into Harry's mouth all night.

"C'mon, take off your pants," Louis instructs, pressing a chaste kiss into Harry's dimple. His head is throbbing with absolute shame, hating how intimate this feels. He refuses to drag this out any longer. He's going to finish Harry off and then he's going to leave. That's it.

Harry wiggles out of his trousers eagerly, bottom lip bitten between his smile as he slides down his briefs and his cock springs free. Louis wants to groan, there's this immediate urge to get his mouth on it. It's just so pretty, wet with pre-cum. Harry is clearly holding back from touching himself, hands clenched in the material of his t-shirt.

"Louis," Harry whispers gently, reaching a hand out to grab Louis' smaller hand and lacing their fingers together. "You don't have to, if you don't want to."

His words are reassuring, expression sincere as he speaks. Louis' entire mind shuts off for a moment, he didn't consider the idea that this wasn't a mutual thing. Harry gets him off, so of course he's going to return the favor. He wouldn't just make Styles give him a blowjob and then dip without reciprocating. Maybe he would if he were sober. Well, if he were sober, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place. But that's not important right now.

"No — I mean, you're hard I'm not gonna just leave you 'ere," Louis breathes. He checks that Harry is still good and moves in closer to him, removing his hand from Harry's and tracing the line of his muscled torso. He waits for Harry to catch his breath before touching him, his other hand reaching up to slide around the man's bicep. His skin is soft, Louis runs his fingers down the sensitive skin of Harry's arm and wonders what is going through his head right now. Harry probably thinks he's gone insane, or that he just gets really horny when he's drunk.

"Want you to call me darling, again," Harry sighs. He looks completely blissed out, like he's in a whole different universe where he can only focus on the shallow parts of Louis' cheeks. His eyes are glazed over and his abdomen clenches every time Louis moves his finger.

Louis doesn't do it. Something about the look in Harry's eyes when he asks Louis to call him that again, as if it's this special thing he wants to grab ahold of. So, to distract Harry from Louis' reluctance, he finally wraps his hand around Harry's cock, stroking slowly and warmly.

"Oh," Harry eyes clench shut, hand squeezing Louis' shoulder in a death grip. Louis leans closer into him, their cheeks brushing as Louis stares down at the task at hand, literally. "You're hands are so rough," The man groans, knees getting a little shaky but steadying himself on Louis.

Louis pulls his hand away, sticking his tongue out to lick his palm — since his hand is apparently too rough, but Harry stops him.

"Want it like that. Love it." He can't even form full sentences but Louis still obliges, wrapping his hand back around Harry's leaking cock and stroking quicker this time. Harry is so noisy, constantly moaning and whining like they're the only sounds he knows how to make. Louis flicks his wrist, trying to make Harry come as soon as possible. He knows a lot of time has passed by, and doesn't want to get caught in here with him.

"C'mon, Styles. I know you're close." Louis presses his thumb into Harry's sensitive tip, catching onto the fact that Harry likes it to hurt a little bit, that's what makes him feel good. Harry just moans, hips bucking forward wildly as he chases his orgasm, blunt nails digging into Louis' shoulder.

"Oh god, I'm gonna come," Harry whines, back arching off of the wall. "Louis, Louis, Louis," he chants as he comes, like a mantra Louis won't be able to get out of his head. Louis collects all the come that he can into his palm, staying close as Harry squirms and gasps for breath, coming down from his high slowly.

He pulls away when Harry's body slumps, like he's finally worn out. Louis turns and twists the faucet of the sink on, rinsing Harry's come off of his hand. He can still hear Harry's heavy breathing, avoiding his reflection in the mirror, knowing he looks absolutely wrecked but not wanting to acknowledge it. Harry is staring at him when they're facing each other again, pants pulled back up and curls pushed messily away from his face.

"This didn't happen, Styles. Do you understand?" Louis warns firmly, pressing a finger into the middle of Harry's chest. "I'll cut your dick off if you tell anyone."

Harry nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. A soft exhale releases past his lips. "You're supposed to call me darling, that was our deal." He pouts. And Louis might actually fall for it. The frown mixed with the pink, water-stained cheeks and puffy lips makes him forget for a moment who he's actually talking to right now.

"You're such an idiot," Louis sighs, shaking his head and scratching at his neck, wincing at the sore lovebites Harry littered across his skin. "Okay, fine. Darling," Louis murmurs, a lazy smile stretches across Harry's face. "Don't tell anyone about this, I'm serious." He raises his eyebrows. A panic shoots through him briefly at the idea of anyone finding out. Louis has spent more than several months hating Harry, absolutely despising him, he won't allow two drunk orgasms to change any of that. "This is never happening ever again, okay?"

"Then just one more thing," Harry insists. And then Louis is being tugged forward into a tired kiss, Harry wet lips sliding against his and a tongue swiping across his bottom lip sweetly. Louis makes a small noise, allowing the intrusion and savoring the bitter taste on Harry's tongue. Harry presses one, two, three more kisses onto Louis' lips before finally pulling away, looking more than satisfied. "Okay." He smiles, breathless. "We can go now."

—

"Good morning, Mr. Frederick." Louis smiles, stepping inside the break room and heading for the kettle he warmed up about thirty minutes ago. He's in dire need of some tea right now.

Mr. Frederick looks up from his newspaper, taking a sip out of his mug. "Morning, Tomlinson. How was your weekend?"

"The usual. Just thinking about what a great boss I have," He jokes, reaching up to grab his box of tea from the cabinet. Louis has learned at what times everyone likes to visit the break room and get some food, so he knows when to go when he'll be alone. He wasn't expecting to see Frederick, who usually stays in his office all day or is off to some business meeting.

Frederick cracks up, laughing gruffly. "Ah, I'm sure," He nods, setting down his warm drink and still reading the newspaper as he speaks. "Did you get those contracts I sent to you? I need 'em back by this afternoon."

"Yep, already put them in your mailbox."

Louis talks with his boss for about ten more minutes before his tea is done and he wants to bring it back to his desk. Somehow he's successfully avoided facing Styles the entire morning, either visiting Alyssa or delivering mail to other floors. Harry hasn't been too present at their desks either, but there was one time when Harry tried to grab Louis' attention while he was on his way up to the fifth floor, but Louis had clicked the button to close the elevator doors several times and pretended he didn't see him. Successfully pushing away his problems.

This time when he sits down, Harry isn't there, so he's able to check his emails and make a call to this client who left a voicemail in peace. He knows that Harry will come back any second, and he might as well let that happen, because he can't avoid the man forever. Ever since Alyssa's party, Louis has been kicking himself for even letting that happen with Harry. It was so incredibly stupid, and there's nothing he can do to reverse it or take it back. He is absolutely going to take what happened to his grave, lock up his lips and throw away the key, it's never happening again and Harry will be gone from his life a month from now anyway. He knows that Harry is the type of person to bring it up subtly and make jokes, so Louis can only hope he knows how desperately Louis wants to forget it even happened.

"Hey, Louis."

His head snaps up, watching carefully as Harry sits down in his seat, holding a to-go cup and setting it on his desk. Louis clears his throat, ignoring the huge lovebite right below Harry's ear. All of Louis' faded away, thankfully.

"Hi," he murmurs, averting his eyes and instead choosing to observe the scratch on the edge of his wooden desk.

"Did you see me earlier?"

"Hm?" Louis plays dumb, raising his eyebrows like he's clueless. Harry chuckles, but scratches at his collar, eyes shifting around their adjoined desks.

"I was trying to talk to you, you know... about the other night?" It comes out as more of a question, Harry glancing around as if anyone cares what they're having a conversation about. Louis instantly waves it off, shaking his head. He told Harry to forget about it. He made that very clear, and Harry definitely understood him.

"Styles, we're not talking about it. I told you to forget it even happened."

He doesn't understand why Harry always insists on talking about things that Louis couldn't care less about. What they did at Alyssa's birthday party was a mistake, nothing more. The last thing he needs is a reminder from the man himself trying to 'clear the air', as he says.

"Yeah — you're right." Harry nods, straightening out a couple of misaligned papers on the side of his desk. Images of the other night inevitably pop into Louis' head, just thinking about how closely pressed he was against Styles, and how warm he felt, how he hasn't come that hard in a really long time. Louis needs to get laid immediately, and definitely not by the annoying guy he works with.

When Louis gets home that evening, slumping his bag onto the ground and tossing his jacket onto the couch, he tells Zayn about his plan.

"Zayn, I need to pull someone," He states with the utmost certainty, dropping himself onto the couch as Clifford jumps up as well. Zayn just continues typing whatever it is onto his laptop, the screen giving his face a glow in contrast to the dimly lit room. Louis wants to order some food, but he hasn't had much of an appetite lately.

Once Zayn hits enter, he shuts his laptop and leans forward to slide it onto the coffee table. "Can't help you with that, I'm a settled man now. I've been chained down. I'm a domesticated sleeze — "

"Okay, okay, I get the point." Louis waves his hand. It's going to take years to forget seeing Zayn and Liam on top of each other and now he has to forget that whole monologue too.

"Seriously, though, I've got a couple friends from work I could set you up with? The gallery is throwing a little gathering and I've already invited a bunch of people, so it won't be awkward. And he's really cute." Zayn ends with a wink, reaching over to scratch at Clifford's ears.

"Awesome." Louis claps his hands together. He's eager to get to a point in his life where Harry Styles isn't the last person he kissed.

Zayn laughs, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch to look up at Louis as he stands. "It's gonna be pretty fancy, so wear the suit that hugs your bum. Oh — and I invited Harry, just to warn you."

Louis deflates. He can't go anywhere lately without Harry being there too. He can barely come back to his apartment without Styles being mentioned. But he's not a brat and doesn't want to ruin Zayn's mood. "Yeah, okay, cool. What day?"

"Wednesday night."

Louis gives him a double thumbs up and walks back to his bedroom, Clifford following behind him with a wag of his fluffy tail. Louis will have to actually find his suit in the mess of his room before he can wear it. He's not sure if he's so excited anymore about the guy Zayn is going to set him up with knowing that Harry will be there. Louis doesn't think he can be charming and sweet when he's got the most insufferable person following him around like a ghost. He just hopes Harry focuses more on the event and doesn't even notice that Louis is there.

—

"Nah, I'm not an artist. I basically just manage the equipment and packaging for the art, it's kind of just a side job — "

Louis tries really hard to listen to his date, nodding along with a small smile as the man answers his questions. He's cute and funny and seems to have his life together. His name starts with an F, something like Freddie — or Frank, or Flynn. Flynn. It's definitely Flynn. Louis would not mind going home with this guy at all, he's tall and has a nice jawline. He doesn't want to rush into things though, he might actually like him and doesn't want to ruin it by moving too quickly.

The only problem with this otherwise fantastic and classy date, is the man in the corner staring at him like a serial killer. Eyebrows woven together and arms crossed as friends talk around him. Louis could easily just ignore Styles, it's not like he's never done that before. But this situation is different. He's simply attempting to find a nice guy to be with and of course, of course Harry is interfering. Just like any other good thing in Louis' life.

Louis has already walked around the gallery at least twice, paying extra special attention to Zayn's art and talking it up loudly so other people would look as well. It's very easy to pretend to be an art critic.

"Yeah, I totally get that." Louis grins, leaning his shoulder against the wall on his left. "I might need to get a second job too if I don't get the promotion I want."

"Oh, where do you work now?" Flynn asks, tilting his head to the side like he's genuinely interested.

"I'm a temp for this magazine company, we mainly do articles and such. I'm trying to become an editor," Louis answers honestly, ignoring the green eyes burning into the side of his head. Harry is all the way across the large room. Out of sight, out of mind.

He talks with Flynn for about an hour as the gathering continues on around them. It's just as fancy as Zayn said it would be, women wearing necklaces that look more expensive than Louis' entire apartment and men with watches Louis doesn't even want to guess the brand of because it'll make him sad. Flynn definitely begins to hint at a second date, and they exchange numbers as a worker walks by with a tray of shrimp tails. Louis hasn't been on an actual date in forever, like where you sit down at a dinner table and just talk with them all night. He supposes tonight is pretty similar to that, but the idea of being with Flynn away from so many people and the pair of watchful eyes, it gets him a little excited.

Flynn has to leave once the clock hits ten o'clock, apologizing profusely but explaining that he has an early morning the next day. Once they depart, Louis walks back to Zayn, who bounces on his toes excitedly when he sees him approaching.

"So? What'd ya think?"

"Zayn," Louis says, holding out his hand. "I owe you big time. He's so cute and we're going on another date sometime next week." He smiles, poking Zayn's chest as the man jumps up and down like a little kid.

"Yay!" He claps, his drink almost spilling over. Louis can't help the loud laugh that escapes him.

"What's so exciting?"

Louis' laughter fades when he sees Harry, walking up to them in his slim-fitting suit and neat curls. Zayn straightens out his back, glaring at Louis when Louis begins to answer truthfully.

"Um — nothing," Zayn lies and Louis is confused.

"Harry! Come tell Liam that golf isn't a stupid sport," Niall huffs and drags him away, approaching out of nowhere. Because yeah, they're friends now too. Louis has been trying not to think about it.

"What was that all about?" Louis asks, brows wrinkling with confusion.

Zayn gives him a look like he should already know, waving his drink to the side with conviction. "Because, Louis. It would be mean to shove the fact that you have a date in Harry's face. I'm not a monster and neither are you," Zayn explains carefully, shaking his head.

"Oh god, this again? I thought we agreed to stop talking about that," He complains with a low voice.

"No, you agreed to stop talking about it," Zayn chuckles, and Louis hates that he can't counteract his statement. Zayn is always right and it's so annoying.

Niall, Liam and Harry come back, insisting Louis and Zayn to contribute to their conversation about whether golf is a stupid sport or not. Louis happily says that it's stupid, thoroughly enjoying the glare Harry throws in his direction. The gallery starts to empty out once it hits eleven o'clock, the caterers being paid and packing up their stuff. The guys stay back though, since Zayn has to fill out the receipts for anyone that bought an artwork hanging on the walls.

Louis would buy something for their apartment, but he's broke, and he's not sure what the protocol on buying art when you have an artist roommate. He's a little scared to ask as well.

Zayn asks him to carry a couple of easels to the back room, very carefully, so that's what he does. It's a little crowded and dusty in the small space, but he switches the light on and sets them cautiously against the wall. He turns back around to grab the rest from the main room of the gallery, but bumps into a solid chest, making a quiet umph sound.

"Watch where you're going," Harry grumbles, walking past with the rest of the easels carried in his arms.

Louis recovers from the impact and scoffs at Styles' attitude, smoothing out his suit jacket that got a little rumpled in the collision. "What's your problem?" He asks accusingly. The light above them flickers slightly, showcasing the low dust flying around at the movements.

Harry sets the easels against the wall, peering at Louis with cold eyes. "Nothing. Just look where you're walking next time."

"Are you twelve?" He asks, rolling his eyes. "It was obviously an accident, and you were the one facing me."

"Just shut up, Louis. Can't you ever move on from something? Or do you always have to instigate?"

Louis' jaw drops, making a small noise at the absolute hypocrisy of Harry's question. "Are you kidding me right now? You're the one who instigates. I'm not the one who just walked in here with an attitude, am I?"

Harry's eyes are dark and distant, observing Louis like he's scum on the bottom of his shoe. Louis' eyes travel down the length of Harry's neck, snapping back up when Harry's voice rings through his ears. "You have a problem with everything. Like just relax, Tomlinson. The world isn't against you."

Anger ignites in Louis' chest at that last statement. He's right, the world isn't against him, it's just Harry. Always undermining him and poking at his last nerve until he finally snaps. Styles acts like Louis is the villain, when all he's doing is defending himself against someone who is literally kind and warm-hearted to everyone, except him. Like he has some sort of resentment against him.

"Whatever, I don't even want to deal with this right now." Louis tries to leave, but Harry continues. It's like he can't just shut up. Not everything that comes to his mind has to be said.

"Oh, you're just gonna leave? Have a cute date waiting for you?

Louis lets out a laugh, but it's just bitter and dry, turning back around. "Ohh, so that's what this is about, huh? You hate that all the attention isn't on you?"

Harry shakes his head quickly, he looks like steam should be coming out of his ears right about now. Louis watches the way he opens his mouth and closes it again, eyes on the almost completely faded mark right where the collar of his shirt ends.

"Don't change the subject — "

"You're the one who brought up Flynn, you fucking dick!"

"Who the hell is Flynn?!" Harry exclaims, throwing his hands up. His arms flex underneath the sleeves of his dress shirt and Louis' mouth goes dry. "I'm just trying to get it into your goddamn head, that not everything has to be an argument! But that's what you — "

Louis interrupts him with a press of their lips, sudden like a car rolling into another, crashing roughly. He pushes him up against the wall, huffing through his nose as Harry's lips slide wet and warm against his own. Louis blindly tries to find the edge of the door with his foot, slamming it shut and thanking god that this room is tiny enough to reach it. His hands are in Harry's curls and everything moves quick, fingers grabbing at his suit jacket and pulling them closer together.

"Okay, I like this better than yelling," Harry pants against his mouth, a layer of sweat gathering at his neck.

"I don't care, Styles. Just shut up." He slides his hand over Harry's unbearable mouth, attaching his lips to Harry's neck and sucking. Licking and biting until new marks form, placing them meticulously in spots that has Harry groaning lowly against his palm. The wall could sink against the pressure of Louis pushing Harry into it, rough and persistent, tugging at the man's curls.

Harry mumbles something against his hand, squirming with pleasure as Louis' tongue presses hotly into the dip of his jaw. Louis doesn't care what he's saying. Just wants him to stop talking for once in his life. Wants to kiss Harry's skin until he feels it melting under his lips, kissing and kissing and kissing.

A loud knock at the door interrupts his hazy thoughts. "Hey, are you in there, Lou?" It's Zayn.

Louis untangles his body from Harry's completely, like a splash of cold water pouring over his head. He leaves Harry panting, curls a mess and lips rubbed raw from Louis' mouth and hand. Harry looks at him with shocked eyes, panic flashing as the doorknob wiggles like Zayn is about to walk in. Louis' eyes catch on a wet spot in front of Harry's trousers, arousal bubbling in him at the sight of Styles so turned on from him just kissing his neck. But there's more pressing matters at hand.

"Uh — yeah, just putting the stuff away. Is the door locked?"

"Yeah, hold on, I have to get the key."

When he hears Zayn walking away, he turns back to Harry's, eyes blazing and fingers pressing into his chest. "Don't say a word about this — and clean yourself up, you look like a mess."

A slow smirk stretches Harry's face, licking his lips. He doesn't respond, just fixes his shirt that got rucked up a bit from Louis' hands and smoothing out his curls. Louis watches him, adjusting the bulge in his pants when Harry isn't looking.

Zayn comes back, unlocking the door. Louis steps out before the door even opens all the way, desperately avoiding his friend seeing Harry. Even with the quick grooming, Harry looks absolutely wrecked, and Zayn isn't stupid. Louis coughs into his fist when he receives a weird look.

"You okay, man? You look all flushed." Zayn presses his cold hand against Louis' cheek, and Louis just pushes him away gently.

"'M fine. Just gonna drive home, I think. My car is parked out back." He jerks his thumb down the hallway behind him, in the opposite direction that Zayn has to go. He doesn't seem suspicious, just shrugging simply.

"Okay, see ya. Drive safe." And with that he's walking away, twirling the noisy keys around his fingers as he turns the corner.

Harry pokes his head out from the tiny room, stepping all the way out when he sees it's just Louis. They just stand there for a moment, the silence isn't necessarily awkward, just a weird sort of tension between them as Harry runs his fingers through his hair.

"Wanna go back to my place?" Harry asks, voice causing a shiver to run down the back of Louis' neck. He takes a deep breath, tasting the sweet fruit from Harry's tongue in his mouth, arousal still curling deep in him and pulling at his veins like hostages until he can get his mouth back on Styles.

He turns back to the taller man, noticing his blown out eyes and long lashes. "No. Just go back in there, you idiot." He pushes Harry back into the small room by his shoulders, careful to crack the door this time so they don't get locked in.

"Didn't you say this would never happen again?" Harry quirks an eyebrow when Louis presses him back up against the wall. "Actually, your exact words were 'never, ever again'." He puts in air quotes, a smug grin on his face like the asshole that he is.

"Do you want this or not?" Louis questions, backing away like he's going to leave but Harry grasps at his wrists.

"No — no, I want it." Harry laughs, dimples caving. Louis wonders how his mood shifted so quickly, when just moments ago he was turning red in the face from anger for Louis. "C'mere."

Harry tugs on the front of Louis' suit jacket, pulling him closer and Louis goes willingly. His eyes flutter closed like blinds as Harry kisses him, breathing in the slow of the moment. It's more precise than the last time, Harry's lips moving purposefully instead of sliding hazily with alcohol in his system. Louis can't believe he's sober right now and allowing Harry to pull him into his body like this. It just feels so good. Harry is this anomaly, always insufferable until his large hands are grabbing at Louis clothes like they can't possibly be close enough. One of Harry's hands slide down the slope of his back, stopping right above Louis' bum.

"Don't even think about it," Louis murmurs against the man's mouth, his own fingers sliding through Harry's curls, lifting his arms to get more comfortable as Harry's arms surround his middle.

"But I wanna touch." Harry smiles, too innocently for someone who's trying to palm at Louis' bum.

Louis shakes his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He doesn't want to talk anymore, doesn't want Styles to think he's enjoying this. Because he's not. Just because he likes Harry's lips doesn't mean he likes anything else, and Harry is getting to smug. He seems to understand Louis' silence, ducking his head down to nose at Louis' neck and kissing softly. Louis finds himself moaning when Harry's large hands grab at his bum, pushing their crotches together and rubbing deliciously. Their breathing gets heavier as they slowly but surely rut their hips forward, hard cocks straining in their trousers and sliding against the other. Louis shifts his weight onto his right foot, sliding his left thigh between Harry's pretty ones and pressing snuggly right up against his crotch. Things are moving so quickly, but Louis doesn't mind getting it over with. Harry's head falls back, mouth forming an 'o' shape. His lips are so red, so delicate and kissable.

Louis lets his forehead rest against Harry's cheek as Harry grinds down onto the surface of his thigh, a flush going all the way down his neck as he speaks incoherently. Louis doesn't listen, just lets his hands travel down the curve of Harry's waist and tug at the rough material of his button down shirt. Louis' own outfit isn't very comfortable, but Harry realizes that before he does and starts tugging his tie loose and unbuttoning his shirt.

"Trying to get me naked?" Louis mutters, lips ghosting over the corner of Harry's mouth. Harry smiles, fingers still pulling at Louis' tie.

"Of course," He answers simply. Louis starts unbuttoning Harry's pants just to take the boyish smirk right off his face. Styles makes small noise, rutting his hips down and circling them lazily against Louis' leg. He gets distracted away from his task of undressing Louis, hands sliding back down to grip at the bum he seemingly can't forget about. "Oh, god, your thighs Louis, wanna come like this," Harry breathes out, head lulling back like he can't even keep it up.

Louis rolls his eyes, fingers digging into the part of Harry's pants where his shirt is tucked in. Of course Harry would like something as random and weird as his thighs, enough to get off just rubbing against them. Harry whimpers, eyes clenching shut as he starts rut his hips desperately, chasing a high that's just in reach. Then suddenly everything is hot and buzzing, Harry's thigh wiggling roughly between Louis' and using his hands on his bum to create friction. Louis' stomachs swoops and burns, leaning forward, an embarrassingly high noise falling from his throat.

They come at the same time, tangled together. Louis accidentally knocks something over with his foot in the middle of his release, moaning and finding contentment in how tightly Harry is holding their bodies together, his hips aching under the constraint of Harry's grip.

"You're so..." Harry exhales, sweat beading at his forehead. "Hot," he finishes, swallowing roughly. Louis just sighs. His eyes feel heavy, a sleepy sort of feeling taking over his bones after coming like that. Harry smiles slowly. His fingers trail teasingly down Louis' abdomen, licking his lips.

"You're an idiot," Louis responds with a huff, letting his head fall onto Harry's shoulder.

—

"Please, I really need to go back to my boss with these copies, or he's gonna kill me," Louis insists, both hands on the counter to show his earnest. The woman beside the copy machine just stares at him blankly, blinking. Of course, the second Mr. Frederick needs several contracts copied, the crappy one in the office breaks down. So, Louis had to run all the across the street to this tiny little copy store. He hates his life.

"Um — sir, it's just gonna be a few extra minutes," She tells him, smiling tightly before walking away towards the back room. Louis glares at the back of her head. He doesn't have a few extra minutes. Mr. Frederick needs them now, and it's going to be humiliating if he shows up late after insisting that he could do it instead of Styles.

The second she comes back with the copies, he pays her quickly and runs off. Sprinting down the street back to the office building and ignoring the weird looks he receives from passing strangers. His body is definitely not built for speed running, he's gasping for air by the time he gets to the lobby and tries to play it off as he waves to the receptionist.

"Jesus Christ," Louis groans, letting his body slump against the wall of the elevator. He checks the time on his watch, tapping at it with two fingers furiously when he realizes that the little ticks stopped moving. He's pretty sure it's been broken for weeks, he needs to get a new one.

Louis tucks the papers under his arm as he walks through the office and back to Frederick's office. "Thanks, Tomlinson," The older man mumbles, covering the end of his phone before turning his attention back to the caller. Louis tries not to roll his eyes and walks out instead, shutting the door behind him. He reaches up to smooth out his shirt, taking a deep breath to ease the burning in his lungs. Louis used to work out a lot in college and maybe he should consider picking it up again.

"Hey." Harry smiles at him when he sits back down. Louis presses his lips together, shuffling around the mess on his desk. Harry simply laughs at the lack of response. "I'm gonna go out for lunch with Nick, if you wanna join us?"

Louis' eyes lift. "I'm okay, thanks."

Harry has been on this high ever since Wednesday night, like he won something when Louis gave in and they participated in certain activities again. It's so annoying. The man is always so goddamn smug and cocky, the way his eyes glow when he's particularly proud of himself. It makes Louis want to punch him in the dick. And it's surely never happening again, he made that very clear before him and Harry parted ways that night. And now even the next week after, nothing has happened again, and Louis pats himself on the back internally.

Nick, also sometimes referred to as Elevator Guy, comes walking in with his usual suit and waves politely to Louis before walking away with Harry. Louis glares at him once his back is turned, something he finds pretty satisfying today. He has a tuna sandwich waiting for him in the fridge of the break room and interesting gossip from Alyssa, so he lifts himself from his chair and makes his way over.

While they're eating at the small unoccupied table, Alyssa shares the gossip around the office and Louis listens of course. His work friend is very social and always at all of the parties, so she gets all of the information. Something new catches his ear the second Alyssa says it, swallowing a bite of his sandwich.

"Wait, what did you say? Sorry."

"Apparently Grimshaw and Styles are going out — or at least that's what I heard from Sadie in marketing," Alyssa explains, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Who's Grimshaw?" Louis is mildly confused. He's never heard that name in his life.

"I think his first name is Nick, or something like that? I don't know, he might be in marketing too? All the guys down there are douchey." She wrinkles her nose and Louis can't help but laugh. It's true.

He probably should've caught onto that, since they go out to lunch together so often. Louis couldn't care less about whether or not Harry is dating someone, let alone Nick, the elevator guy. Just looking at both of them makes him want to puke, so they're perfect for each other. Styles does seem like the kind of guy to go out with someone who wears a suit every day. And also, if they're together, that just means Harry will finally leave him alone. It's not like anything is going to happen between them again, anyway. Wednesday was just a bump in the road and now it's smooth sailing from here as long as he avoids the man.

They wrap up lunch and part ways after an extra ten minutes, reluctantly getting back to work. Louis has to do some survey about his experience working here, and answers all the questions as positively as possible even though it's all anonymous.

He doesn't look up when Harry and Nick come back, keep his eyes focused on his computer as they chat with small laughs every now and then. Harry is leaning against his desk, and Louis can already tell their conversation is never going to end. He finds his gaze traveling upwards when Nick reaches out and squeezes Harry's shoulder, smiling softly as they say goodbye. Louis tries not to roll his eyes for what seems like the fifth time today, his stomach curls unpleasantly for distaste in whatever he's watching right now.

Nick says goodbye to Louis as well, and so he just mumbles something in return, not bothering to look up from his computer anymore. One glance was enough. Harry stuffs his leftovers in his bag that he keeps underneath his desk once Nick leaves, getting settled back into his chair.

A part of Louis wants to ask whether or not they're actually going out, or together, or even exclusive. The last thing he wants is to be some side chick that Harry has been sneaking around with. He doesn't condone cheating, and would probably kill Styles if that were the case.

Louis clears his throat, tapping his foot against the floor. He's going to ask about it. What could be the harm? He deserves to know that Harry hasn't been keeping this information from him while they recently did certain things.

"So, you and Nick, huh?"

Harry looks up from his papers, all innocent and wide-eyed like he doesn't know what Louis is talking about. He's so pathetic. Louis wants to kick him from under their desks.

"Sorry, what?"

"You and Nick. Alyssa told me you two were dating?" Louis raises his eyebrows, trying to ask the unspoken question of whether or not Harry is a cheater or not. Louis wouldn't be shocked.

Harry pulls his lips to the side, a small flash of mirth in his eyes but it's gone before Louis can think about it. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," Louis bites, denying immediately. "Like, if it's recent then I couldn't care less. But if you guys were dating while we..." He waves his hand, letting that gesture finish the sentence for him. He would die before saying that out loud. In public.

Styles' expression becomes something like hurt, lips tugging downwards. "Louis, I would never cheat. How could you even think that?" Harry questions, shaking his head. "And besides, we're not dating. Nick has a girlfriend."

Louis feels a little guilty for accusing him like that, especially after seeing how hurt Harry was. But it eventually fades away, nodding firmly to show he heard Harry's last statement. "Alright. Just making sure." He shrugs, letting out a silent sigh as he turns back to his survey. It's about a thousand questions, basically the same thing just worded differently every time.

"You're cute when you're jealous," Harry speaks softly, not even looking at Louis as if he never even said it in the first place.

"Shut up. I'm not jealous, Styles. If anything — a boyfriend would get you off my back," He grumbles, typing into his computer rather aggressively. It's so outdated, he wishes the company was generous enough to buy them new ones.

Harry looks at him like a kicked puppy, eyebrows knitting together. "Are you serious?" And then Harry is standing up, shaking his head again with disappointment and walking past Louis.

"Styles — " Louis reaches out to grab his wrist before he can walk away, but he misses it. Watching as Harry walks down to the other end of the office and pushes open the door to the stairs, disappearing behind a corner. After staring at the closed door for too long, he just mutters a curse under his breath and turns back to his work. Harry is always so much drama, but this time Louis actually feels a little bit bad. He supposes he could've been nicer, and just dropped the conversation before he made the comment about getting Harry off his back.

He didn't necessarily mean to hurt Harry's feelings, he just didn't want Harry to think he was jealous. Because he's not. Louis doesn't even like Harry as a person, let alone a friend or something more than that. He just hopes Harry gets over it before he actually starts to feel guilty. He doesn't owe Styles any kindness, but something about the hurt expression on his face lingers in his head.

—

Apparently, Harry doesn't get over things quickly. Because it's two days later, and all the guys were invited over to his apartment to watch the football game and eat some food. Harry's smile clearly falls when he catches sight of Louis walking through the door, like he wasn't expecting him to show up, and something inside of Louis shatters at the vision. His own comfortable bubble washing away.

Then Harry is pulled into conversation with Niall about where all the food goes, so he leads him to the kitchen and then everyone else is following behind. Louis just lingers by the front door awkwardly, wondering if he should make a break for it. He promised Zayn that he would stay because Zayn thought Harry would want him there, but clearly he doesn't. Eventually he decides not to leave. He's not in high school and doesn't want to participate in high school drama. So, he shrugs off his thin jacket and wiggles out of his shoes.

It's a weird process as everybody makes themselves a plate of food and Louis tries to find a place to sit, that isn't in the obvious spot right next to Harry. Eventually Niall forces him into the seat, because apparently he's 'blocking the tv'. He can feel Harry shift uncomfortably next to him, holding his plate close to his chest and making himself tinier. Louis wants to scream and yell.

He's had Harry upset with him before, shouting in his face until his skin was red and flushed. But something about this is different. Harry isn't just pissed off momentarily, his feelings are genuinely hurt, by something Louis said. And Louis knows he shouldn't care, but he still has a heart, and causing this much obvious distress on a person who he's always been very mean to, it just makes him feel extremely unsettled.

Louis looks away from the television when Harry stands up, setting down his food and excusing himself for a second. Louis watches quietly as he retreats, while everybody else is still focused on the game. Two minutes seems long enough to wait to follow the man, and either way, Harry has been gone a while and he just wants to make sure Harry isn't avoiding him. So he sets down his food and walks off too, hoping the other boys don't notice.

He carefully steps through the apartment, just blindly trusting his gut because he's never stepped outside of the living room or the kitchen. He walks quietly down the hallway, not sparing a glance towards the family pictures littering the walls. A light is on in a room down the hall and Louis heads for it, the floorboards creaking slightly under his weight.

"Styles?" Louis pokes his head into the room, spotting Harry sitting on the edge of a bed, clicking away on his phone but looking up at the sudden voice. Louis doesn't care to observe Harry's room, instead opting to step inside cautiously and observe Harry instead. "Hey," he greets awkwardly, as Harry just stares at him.

"What're you doing here?" He mumbles out, it's not accusing but it's not very kind either. The tall man stands up, shoulders slouched and phone left resting on his comforter.

Louis finds himself shrugging. "You don't seem very happy that I'm... at your flat."

"Yeah," Harry answers honestly.

"C'mon, Styles." Louis steps closer. Harry doesn't back away, eyes lingering on the bottom half of Louis' face. He still looks mad, but Louis won't stand for it any longer. This isn't the dynamic they usually have, Louis is supposed to be the one annoyed, not the other way around. "You can't be pissed at me forever."

Harry's eyes shift around the room, arms falling like he's conceding. "Are you sure?"

Louis rolls his eyes, unamused by the sarcastic question. "I am. Just admit it, you find me irresistible," he teases, reaching a hand onto Harry's chest, letting his touch lower as slowly as possible. Harry's breathing gets slightly heavier, eyes falling down to Louis' lips.

And then they're kissing. Louis doesn't know who leaned in first, but it doesn't matter. He lets his arms loop around Harry's waist as the man makes a low noise against his mouth, reaching up to cup Louis' cheeks tightly. They stumble a bit as they bump into Harry's bed, but Louis just kisses him harder, gripping onto Harry's shirt with his fingers.

Then suddenly Harry is tensing up, sighing when Louis tries to run his tongue along his bottom lip, asking for permission.

"No — no," Harry mumbles against his mouth and Louis pulls away quickly, heart racing. Wetness is gathering at the corner of Harry's eyes, shoving at Louis' shoulders to push him out of reach. "You can't just — just kiss me and try to make everything better. I don't even understand you," He cries, taking a harsh breath and brushing past Louis, but Louis follows him and turns as well. "You act like I'm this burden that never leaves you alone and then the next second you're just... kissing me and touching me and I don't want it anymore! Not if you're just gonna push me away again and act like it never happened."

Louis stares, standing there like an idiot as Harry rambles. A part of him wants to reach out and comfort the man, but then he remembers who he's looking at and refrains from doing so. It's just a big brother instinct, seeing someone cry and immediately wanting to wrap your arms around them.

"I'm better than that — I deserve better than the way you treat me, Louis. You just use me and then toss me away until you want me again. I won't put up with it." He's standing his ground, crossing his arms over his chest and still holding back tears.

"Styles..." Louis doesn't know what to say. He never really realized Harry felt this way, like Louis was using him. Maybe he didn't even realize he was doing it himself and that just makes him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

"God, can't you just call Harry for once?" He questions, exasperated. "We're not at work anymore, Louis. And you're hands have been down my pants. I think that permits calling me by my first name," Harry retorts bitterly. He turns to walk away when Louis still doesn't say anything, a scoff escaping his lips.

"No — wait. I'm sorry, okay?" Louis grabs at his arm, tugging him back around and stepping closer. "I'm sorry about what I said the other day. You're not — I'm not trying to pretend like I don't want it."

Harry looks confused and still upset, so Louis elaborates.

"Because I do want it. Sometimes, I suppose." He shakes his head to himself, he can't believe he's even saying this out loud. He's telling the truth, but it hurts his own ears for him to be admitting this. Especially to Harry's face. "I'm sorry I made you feel like I was using you... or discarding you. Nobody deserves to feel that way."

"So..." Harry's eyebrows furrow, like he's trying to figure Louis out, eyes curious. "You like it?"

Louis averts his gaze, shrugging sheepishly. The entire room smells like Harry, and it makes him feel all hot inside. Like vanilla and warmth. "Yeah, but that doesn't — doesn't mean I like you. I just... like what we do sometimes."

Harry's colorful eyes move back and forth between Louis', reading his expression for a moment and processing his words. "So — basically, you're saying you think I'm hot?"

"Oh my god, shut up." Louis can't help the small quirk of his lips, reaching over and punching Harry's shoulder softly. "Don't fish for compliments, Harry."

A slow grin makes its way into Harry's face, lowering his chin shyly as his dimples appear. There's a beat of silence between them, and Louis starts to feel hopeful about Harry's forgiveness. "You know, I'm sorry, for... sort of flipping out, I just — felt sort of upset about what you said the other day, you know?"

"Don't apologize." Louis shakes his head, moving closer and tapping Harry's elbow. That's the most comfort Harry is going to receive from him at the moment. "I should be the one saying sorry, because I am. That was totally rude."

Harry nods, wiping at his nose and sniffing. "Thank you, Louis." And then he's smiling, and Louis can finally take a deep breath. He feels relieved. No one has ever been that upset with him before, it was sort of unnerving. "We should probably get back to the guys, this is a little suspicious," Harry murmurs, pointing to the door and stepping in that direction.

Louis grabs at his arm gently before he can leave, licking his lips. "I mean..." he pauses, lifting his shoulders. "Or we could also just continue what we started?

There's a moment of consideration, as Harry looks between the door and Louis. But then he's giving in and Louis lets himself being pulled forward.

Louis' lips slide against Harry's messily, a rush of a kiss that they both melt into. It's been over a week since they touched like this the last time and Louis wants to taste every inch of Harry's mouth. Harry moans against him appreciatively, as Louis' strong hands grip at his hips and bring him closer. They're so lost in each other that they don't even hear the gasp of Niall approaching the door away, until the man shrieks loudly and dashes off.

The pair jumps apart, staring at each other wide-eyed for a moment in shock before running after Niall, rushing out of the room. But it's too late, they get to the living room and all three of their friends are staring at them with their jaws dropped. Louis expected this reaction, especially after hearing Niall shout 'Harry and Lou are snogging!' about three times while they were trying to catch up.

"You guys were kissing?!" Zayn exclaims, pointing his finger accusingly at Louis. And the man just guffaws in offense, not liking that he was singled out specifically.

"Guys! it's not a big deal, just relax." Louis holds out his hands. It's a tiny bit hypocritical of him considering his heart is thudding against his rib cage, scared of what this might do to their entire friend group dynamic. Not to mention how embarrassing it is to be caught kissing Harry when he spent so long telling Zayn that the idea of that made him sick.

"Oh my god! Of course this is a big deal!" Niall shouts, jumping up and down with a wide smile. "Liam owes me five bucks!" He cackles, holding out his hand once he stops jumping. Liam rolls his eyes and digs into his pocket.

"For what?" Louis asks, eyebrows furrowing. He can feel Zayn smirking at him and knows he's about to have the longest conversation of his life when they get back to their flat. He'd honestly just rather stay with Harry, which says a lot.

"You two getting together, obviously," Niall states, like Louis is stupid for even asking.

"We're not together." Louis points between him and Harry, shaking his head. The man has been suspiciously quiet throughout the confrontation, just chewing on his bottom lip and listening. "Tell them, Styles." He nudges Harry's side to grab his attention.

"Uh — yeah, we're not together." Harry nods, fingers wringing together in front of him. Louis almost face palms. Harry needs to be more convincing than that if the boys are going to believe them. They're not even together, so why does Harry look like he's lying? This is the most frustrating conversation.

All three boys look between them, mirroring each other's confused expressions. "Why not?" Zayn finally asks, quirking an eyebrow in Louis' direction.

"That's none of your business. That's between me and Styles."

"Harry," Harry whispers under his breath, correcting Louis. Like this is an appropriate time. Louis glares at him.

"Is this like a friend with benefits situation?" Liam gestures between them.

Louis opens his mouth to speak, but Zayn holds out a hand to stop him. "We already know you're gonna say you and Harry aren't friends. You're so predictable." And Louis deflates, crossing his arms over his chest. He sees Harry glance at him in the corner of his eye.

A zip of something overwhelming runs through Louis, and his thoughts linger back to what was just happening a few moments ago. They were kissing in Harry's bedroom, and if they hadn't been interrupted, he can't help but wonder what would've happened. They've always been somewhere inconvenient when they were making out before, but in the comfort of Harry's room...

" — wait, so when did this start?"

Louis is pulled out of his thoughts, missing about a minute of the conversation and now sees that Harry has been sucked into it, forehead wrinkling with distress as the boys keep asking more questions.

"Guys, guys," Louis interrupts, waving his hands to stop the loud chatter. "It's seriously not a big deal and this is something between us only. Can you please respect that?"

All his friends just stare at him for a while, and he already knows they're going to be asking Harry more questions privately since he's much easier to break down for information. It's not like there's much to tell, but a big part of Louis is humiliated, and his chest tightens at the idea of Harry having something he could hold over his head like that. He can't be completely sure that Styles wouldn't do that to him, since he just mended things with him after Harry was so upset before.

Eventually they just sit back down to watch the game and eat once the boys reluctantly let it go. Louis can feel all of their stares when he and Harry sit next to each other, so he just scoots away as far as possible and pretends he doesn't notice it.

"Louis William Tomlinson, don't you dare go to your room right now," Zayn demands the second they get back to their flat. Louis curses under his breath, so close to escaping, he thinks. The entire car ride home, Zayn was silent, and Louis actually thought he wouldn't have anything more to say.

"Can we please talk about this another day? I'm tired," He complains, dragging his feet as Zayn gestures firmly for him to sit down on the couch.

"No."

Louis sighs as he plops down, wrapping his arms around himself stubbornly.

"I'm mad at you."

His jaw goes slack, a noise of offense coming from his throat. "What? Why?"

"Because Louis, you're being an idiot," He explains with something intense in his tone. "How many times have I told you how much Harry fancies you? He doesn't even have to tell me for me to know, because it's so obvious." Zayn shakes his head, leaning his side against the couch, facing Louis as he speaks. "One of you is going to end up hurt, and we both know who that is."

"Stop." Louis closes his eyes and shakes his head. He's so sick of Zayn insisting that Harry has feelings for him, because he doesn't. Harry only wants this to be getting off, just as much as Louis does, he's never suggested anything more and never will. "He's not into me like that, Zayn. You don't even know what you're talking about."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "Oh, really? Then why did Harry have so much trouble trying to say you guys weren't together? It was killing him," he retorts sympathetically, eyes wrinkling. "You should just end this, before it's too late."

"No." Louis shakes his head, refusing to believe Zayn. He's just not right this time, this is one of those rare occasions where he's got it wrong. "He's a grown adult and if he wanted to be with me, he would just say that."

"Lou..."

"No — I'm sorry, but we already talked about it and he knows where I stand, and I know where he stands too."

Zayn sighs. "Okay, fine. If that's really what you think." He raises his hands up like he's surrendering.

"Thank you — yes, that's how it is." And that's it. Zayn finally drops the topic and Louis is allowed to go back to his room to sleep. Louis knows for a fact that he's right. Harry couldn't possibly have feelings for him, Harry is just so... just not the type of person that would be into Louis romantically. And Louis is grateful for that because he doesn't like Harry either. So many thoughts about Harry is actually getting him a little hard, he just groans out of pure frustration and stuffs his face into his pillow.

—

The worst thing to happen on a Friday is getting sick. Not only are you neglecting your daily responsibilities because you have to stay in bed, but you also know you're entire weekend will be ruined as you recover. Louis woke up Friday morning with the worst headache and a chill in his bones, he curled up in his blankets and groaned at the bright sunlight poking through his window. Too bright. It wasn't until he finally got up and checked his temperature that he realized he was really sick, not just allergies from the changing seasons, but he had a cold. Stupid immune system.

He called Mr. Frederick's assistant and told him that he wouldn't be in today, too cowardly to call his boss directly. Zayn was already off to work so Louis could only suffer in silence, crawling back into his bed and hoping that he'll feel better by the time he wakes up again.

"Liam," He mumbles into the phone, head under the blankets to block out the light. His voice is scratchy and his throat almost gives out. "I'm a little sick, right now. Would you mind going to the store and getting me some medicine?" Louis practically pleads, pushing the blankets off of his head when it begins to feel suffocating. He turns his back to the window, fingers clutching at his cold phone.

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that, mate. But I can't leave work until noon. Is there anybody else you can ask?"

Louis wants to cry at the rejection. He absolutely despises being alone while he's sick, and suddenly misses his mum. She always made the best tea and let him sleep in her bed whenever he was ill. Somehow it was never contagious to her, he always assumed she was like a superhero or has magical powers. He's twenty-three and still isn't completely convinced otherwise.

"No' really?" He mumbles, curling his legs up to his chest and letting his eyes fall shut. "I guess I could call Niall."

"Alright, Lou. Hope you feel better, just call me if no one else is able to help out."

Louis thanks him and then hangs up, cracking an eye open as he searches his phone for Niall's contact. Apparently Niall isn't even in London, and Louis' head starts to burn at how loud Niall talks through the phone. He starts to get another call while Niall is listing off soup remedies, pulling it away from his ear to see who it is. His eyebrows furrow at the unknown number.

"Uh — sorry, Ni. Gotta go, someone else is callin'." The blankets starts to feel too suffocating again, but he finds himself shivering despite how hot his neck and forehead are. Louis kicks them off lazily, bunching up at the end of his bed and spreading out his legs.

He says goodbye to Niall and accepts the other call, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing at his nose as he listens for some type of greeting. He never says hello first when it's a stranger calling, you never know who's on the other end. Louis just hopes it isn't something for work, but doesn't know how someone would have his personal phone number unless it's Alyssa or his boss.

"'Ello?" He speaks out groggily, suspicious when all he hears is white noise on the other end.

"Lou? Sorry, didn't know if I had the right number. Is everything okay? Heard you called out sick. How're you feeling? Is it something serious?"

"Woah, Styles. Too many questions." He groans, folding his body into a ball again when he realizes that's the most effective way to ease the throbbing in his head. "I'm fine. It's jus' a cold."

"Is anybody there with you?"

Louis doesn't want to answer. He's not even sure how the hell Harry got his number. He knows if he tells him that he's alone in his flat, Harry will insist he needs to come over and help him out. And that's just really not what he needs right now. Louis already feels like crap and seeing Harry just isn't on his list of things he'd like to do today. Lay in bed is number one.

"Um — Zayn is 'ere. Yeah."

"You're lying. Liam called me and said Zayn was at the gallery. I'm coming over."

Okay, so Harry is manipulating him while he's ill. Very classy. "Styles, you have work," Louis grumbles, clenching his eyes shut. This is just making him feel worse and he wishes he hadn't called this many people, his throat hurts so badly from talking.

"It's fine, I'll just tell Frederick something is going around and I don't want to spread it."

"Seriously, mate. I'm feelin' okay. You don't have to do anything."

He hears Harry sigh on the other end, a loud sigh like he's tired of Louis' declines. "You're too weak to stop me." And then he hangs up. Louis would roll his eyes if it didn't feel like his brain was turning to mush. He just lets out a frail noise and drops his phone to his side, letting his eyes fall closed again.

Somehow Louis drifted off to sleep, despite how horrible he feels. He's awoken by loud knocks that he can hear all the way from his bedroom and frantically sits up, stomach churning at the sudden movement. He crawls out of bed and wraps him arms around his bare torso when a chill washes over him, socked feet padding along the floor as he cautiously approaches his front door. Clifford is absolutely no help at all, he's more a cuddler than a guard dog, and he just lays sleepily on the carpet.

More knocks come, a deep but soft voice ringing through the layer of wood. "Lou? It's Harry. The door is locked." Louis sighs at the pout in his voice. Always the dramatic one.

Louis steps forward with a sense of calm knowing that he's not about to be murdered by burglars. He twists the knob and pulls his door open with whatever strength he has left, Harry drops his arm that was reaching up to knock again and offers a soft smile.

"Hey," he murmurs, fiddling with the bag in his hand. "Can I come in?"

Louis just shrugs, pulling the door open a little bit more and stepping to the side. Harry takes that as an invitation and walks inside. He's still dressed in his work clothes, neatly groomed and a healthy color blooming on his cheeks. Louis can't help the wave of insecurity that flashes through him, not even wanting to know how bad he looks right now. He's sure that his hair is rumpled horribly from sleep and his cheeks are thinner than usual. He probably looks like he's on his last leg.

"What'd you bring me?" He asks, peering closer at the bag in Harry's hand. His arms are still wrapped about himself, not comfortable walking around half naked in Harry's presence.

"Liam told me you need medicine and I also got you some ice cream." The man shrugs, chewing at his bottom lip. "You should lay down, c'mon. I'll fix you something to eat." And then his hand is on Louis' bare back, guiding him back to his bedroom. Louis has an urge to lean into the warm touch. He's relieved that he doesn't have to be alone anymore, even if his company is Harry. He's too tired to put up any sort of fight.

They go to his room and Harry tries to pull his blankets back over him when he climbs into bed, but Louis protests weakly, pushing it away. "'S too hot."

"You have goosebumps, love. Your body is playing tricks on you to make you think you're not cold," Harry insists, tugging the comforter over Louis before he can push it away again. Louis' insides are twisting too much to even begin to scold Harry for calling him a pet name. He's not a baby that needs to be taken care of. Especially not by Harry.

The man leaves Louis alone, walking away to do whatever around the apartment. Louis doesn't care much, just wanting to drift off to sleep again. The second he starts to feel like he's being pulled under, Harry walks back in. He must think Louis is asleep because he rubs at his arm gently, trying to coax him awake. Louis just mutters something under his breath, not even sure what he's trying to say himself.

"Got you some tea and crackers, Lou. And you need to take your medicine."

"I don't need to do anything," He grumbles, poking both eyes open to glare at Harry before shutting them again stubbornly. Harry must've pulled his hair back while he was gathering the items, and Louis can't even stand to look at the delicate slope of his neck. So blindingly beautiful. Louis hates him so much.

Harry sits down on the edge of his bed, placing the crackers on Louis' nightstand. "Louis, it's just a pain reliever. Do you want me to call Zayn and tell him your refusing to get better?"

"Oh, you're gonna tell on me?" Louis frowns, allowing himself to look at Harry again. His eyes are so green, and it might be the sickness talking, but he wishes Harry would just stop talking and kiss him. He wants to be held.

Harry laughs gently, grabbing one of Louis' hands to open his palm and place to pills onto it. "Not if you take the medicine."

Louis doesn't respond, just lets out a long sigh to show he's not happy and swallows down the pills with his tea. The drink soothes his irritated throat, and tastes just like he usually makes it. He wonders absently how Harry knew that he doesn't like sugar but enjoys milk. Harry watches him do it, and then smiles brightly once it's done.

"Good job." His hand reaches to pat Louis' thigh, touch lingering for a moment.

Things have been a little different between them ever since their friends found out about what him and Harry have been doing. It's not that Louis likes him any better or treats him any differently. If anything it's Harry. He treats Louis like they're friends now, or something of the sorts, always being a little too affectionate and never provoked when Louis says something snarky. Maybe it's all in Louis' head, but he sees something different in the way Harry looks at him. Like he's not a ticking time bomb anymore, almost like Louis is actually a source of comfort. It's unsettling, and a part of Louis wishes things were back to how they were before anything sexual happened. He doesn't want to be confused anymore.

"Can you leave now? I wanna sleep," He tells him after a moment, licking his dry lips and reaching to pull the grey-blue blankets over his legs. Harry's expression seems a tad bit disappointed but either way he nods and stands up. Louis watches him walk towards the door, and then suddenly his mouth is moving before his brain can catch up. "Styles?"

Harry turns around, eyes so green that Louis has to take a deep breath. "Yeah?"

"You can stay... if you want. Like, in the living room and watch TV or somethin'..." he mumbles, letting his cheeks fall against his pillow as he sinks into his bed. A drowsiness is already weighing him down, but he still doesn't want to be alone for the rest of the day.

Harry's eyes glow, lips pulling upwards. "Of course, Lou. I'll be here if you need me."

And Louis falls asleep shortly after that, his body finally feeling better enough that he doesn't have to shift every five minutes. He's not even sure if medicine works that fast. Or maybe it has something to do with the man sitting in the other room.

—

When Louis wakes up next, he forces himself to open his eyes and sees that the sun isn't filtering through his room anymore, and the darkness drowns him. He faintly hears the television on in the other room, and a tiny part of him hopes it's Harry that's in there. He doesn't think Harry would grow impatient and leave, but he can't be too sure. Louis pulls the covers off of him, scrunching his nose at the sudden chill he's exposed to. He has to practically drag his legs over to his closet, grabbing the closest t-shirt he can find to slip over his head.

He tries to open the door to his room as quietly as possible, his eyes adjusting to the darkness and then finding light at the end of the hallway. Louis walks to the living room. His own movements feel slow, like his body is trying to catch up to his determination. He bites the inside of his cheek when he sees Harry sitting on the couch, watching reruns of Golden Girls with his feet propped up on the coffee table and arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey, Harry."

Harry turns, the left half of his face lit up by the light from the television. He smiles, dimples emphasized by the shadows in his cheeks. "Hey, sleepy-head. Feeling any better?" He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and Louis complies. His head has this lingering ache and his body feels warn out, but sleep seemed to ease the chills and uncomfortable hotness underneath his skin.

He settles into the spot next to Harry, leaving an appropriate distance between them. Harry still reaches out and leaves his hand in the space between them, like an invitation for Louis to grab. "I'm okay," he answers simply. "A little hungry. I haven't eaten anything."

Harry's eyes widen, sitting up. "Anything at all? Oh my god, Louis. Lemme make you something to eat, just stay here." And then he's gone like the world is about to end. Louis just wanted to sit with him for a minute, but he supposes something to eat would be nice. He watches the show playing while he waits, enjoying the funny old women but not really caring for the obnoxious laugh track. He can hear Harry clanging around in the other room, but lets his head lean back and wraps his arms around his angry stomach.

Food is brought out to him not long after, something simple like a bowl of soup. Louis can't help but laugh when Harry tries to feed it to him, pushing him away and grabbing the bowl for himself. Harry is so annoying.

They spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching reruns of Golden Girls because Harry refuses to change it even though it's Louis' TV. He finishes his soup with a soft hum, setting the empty bowl on their coffee table and leaning back again. Clifford has his head resting in Harry's lap and Louis watches as he scratches at his dog's ears, eyes focused on the TV. Louis doesn't want to get caught staring, but his brain is foggy and he can't help it. The slope of his nose is so gentle, and his eyelashes create shadows below his eyes.

Harry catches him, smiling shyly when he notices Louis' eyes on him. "What?" He asks, voice down to a whisper. Louis doesn't know how to feel. It's so frustrating. Harry is a horrible guy, has been making his life absolutely miserable ever since they met. But he can't help but consider the fact that the horrible guy Louis is picturing in his head wouldn't take care of him all day while he was sick, wouldn't smile at him and kiss him like it's the only thing he ever wants to do. It's all so stupid. Louis doesn't want to betray his initial instincts, doesn't want to be proven wrong by Harry's stupid charm and smiles. He won't allow himself to get sucked in by the very thing he's despised for months.

But Harry is so pretty. And even if Louis doesn't want to be his friend, that doesn't mean he can't allow himself to take advantage of the smiles and soft kisses. He wants that. He wants Harry to continue looking at him with his colorful eyes. The staring doesn't bother him anymore, it makes his body feel warm.

"Nothing." He shakes his head, but maintains eye contact. "I just — thank you for today. I appreciate it."

Harry grins, shrugging sheepishly with a pink color blooming across his cheeks. "Yeah, of course, Lou. Of course." He looks so pleased with Louis' words that Louis wouldn't take them back, even though he's slightly embarrassed by his honesty. "You think I would get sick if I kissed you right now?" Harry is asking him, and Louis just has to roll his eyes at some point.

"You would be dumb enough to do somethin' like that. Fuck off, Styles." He lets out a quiet laugh, a little scratchy.

"C'mere." Harry leans forward, tangling his fingers into the front of Louis' shirt. Louis just stares at him for a moment, and realizes how helpless he really is because damn he might be falling for it.

He barely gets to press his lips into Harry's for a second before the door is opening and Zayn walks through. Louis jumps back, Harry turns, and Clifford's head pops up.

"Ugh, great. Is this what I'm gonna walk into everyday, now?" Zayn chuckles, dropping his keys into the little bowl by their door. Harry bites his lip, brushing a stray curl out his eyes.

"Sorry," He mumbles, turning back to Louis with a slightly amused expression. Louis stifles a laugh.

"How're you feeling, Lou?" Zayn ruffles his hair. Any tension that was there between Harry and Louis before fizzles away now that they're friend is here. Zayn just sucks the sexual energy away. And maybe Louis should be grateful, god knows what he would've done if they weren't interrupted. Probably something stupid.

Louis chats with Zayn for a while, about how he's feeling and about Zayn's day at work. Eventually Clifford jumps off of Harry to go drink some water and Harry stands up, pressing his lips together and eyeing Louis carefully. Seemingly not wanting to interrupt the conversation but pointing his thumb to the door.

"I should probably head out, drive home before it gets too late."

"Oh — okay." Louis turns, attention pulled away from Zayn. He feels like he should stand up and walk Harry out, but would that be too weird? A kiss goodbye is definitely on the table. Even though he knows Harry wouldn't be opposed to it. "Thank you again... for today."

Harry's eyes are earnest as he smiles, grabbing his coat from off the back of the couch and sliding his arms through the sleeves. "Anytime, Lou."

And then Louis is just watching as Harry leaves, wondering if he was honest enough about how much he appreciated Harry taking care of him. Louis was so stubborn and a little rude, he's shocked that Harry stayed so long.

"You guys are so sweet," Zayn chimes in, breaking Louis away from his thoughts and focus on the closed door.

"What?"

"You and Harry. That kiss before, it was really sweet," Zayn elaborates, raising his eyebrows. Louis just rolls his eyes. It wasn't sweet. "I'm sorry for not being here today, though. You know you could've called me, right?"

"Yeah, I know — just didn't want to bother you. And Liam seems like the papa bear type so I called him first," He muses, letting his head fall back as he talks to Zayn. He's starting to feel a little bit better, and definitely not on the verge of dying anymore.

Zayn has something fond in his eyes at the mention of Liam and Louis wants to vomit. They spend that evening on the couch, watching some comedy show after Louis changes the channel. Zayn lets Louis rest his head on his shoulder, and it's nice. But something is just different than how Louis felt earlier today. He pushes it to the back of his mind, not wanting to deal with thoughts like that right now. It's not important.

—

Every time Louis tries to find a game to play on his computer to pass the time, the website is always blocked. He wonders why they put security codes onto their desktops, considering everyone is an adult here and probably has their own computer to search something inappropriate if they wanted to. Maybe the company is trying to stop people like Louis from playing games instead of doing more work. But all Louis is striving for is a silly little game of solitaire. Would that absolutely kill them if he played it? No.

"Lou," Harry calls, trying to grab his attention. Louis exits out of his blocked tab before acknowledgement him.

"Yeah?"

Harry doesn't say anything, just sticks his hand out wordlessly, fingers curled into his palm. Louis trusts his instinct and hopes that it isn't a spider. Where would Harry even find one? So he accepts whatever it is, chuckling when a piece of candy is dropped into his palm.

"Trying to butter me up?" He asks, unwrapping it and thanking god that it's a caramel one and not nougat.

He's already gotten over his small cold, but even if he hadn't, he'd probably still show up for work because he couldn't miss another day unless he was contagious. Zayn wanted him to stay home today but he refused. His temperature is back to normal and he can actually breathe through his nose again, so he's fine.

Harry smiles at him, dimples showing brightly. "Maybe," he answers with a simple hum.

Louis rolls his eyes and turns back to his computer, back on the hunt for an open website where he can play a game. His phone starts to ring so he answers it absently, greeting the person with the rehearsed line that he says to everyone.

"Hello, Louis! This is Amber from that department meeting we had a few weeks back? I'm not sure if you remember me but I have a job opening in my team and I'd love to talk with you about it!" The woman tells him using a chipper tone. Louis' eyes widen briefly, and he sits up straighter in his chair. "I talked with Mr. Frederick and honestly we'd love to have you be apart of our department. Are you free any time next week?"

"Yes — yes, of course. I'm free all day Wednesday or anytime after five o'clock on other days," Louis says, flipping through the schedule he keeps beside him to make sure he really doesn't have anything going on. He wonders what kind of job they could possibly have for him. Louis really didn't think he left much of an impression on them, he can only assume Amber is the woman who was presenting that evening. That's the only woman he remembers speaking to more than a few words.

"Perfect! I'll set you up for a meeting on Wednesday and call you back with the details soon."

"Awesome, it was so nice speaking to you again and thank you for the opportunity." He can't help but show his excitement. She talks to him for a little longer before they say their goodbyes, and Louis is quick to mark down the meeting on his calendar for next week.

"What was that about?" Harry questions, always so nosy. His eyebrows wiggle with intrigue and Louis just snorts amusedly.

"None of you're business, Harold." Louis gives him a playful sharp look, but then Harry's shoulders sag a little bit sadly and Louis is a weak man. "This woman I met the other day works in another department for the company and she wants me to come in for a job interview."

Harry's mouth opens in shock, eyes gleaming. "Oh my gosh, Louis! That's amazing." He leans forward and Louis just loves the little crinkles by his eyes. "They're trying to steal you from right under Frederick's feet? You're high in demand, Tomlinson." Harry smirks, tapping his fingers on his desk.

"Stop," Louis laughs out, shaking his head. "Mr. Frederick knows about it, and I don't even know what the job is for yet, okay?"

"Fine, but we still have to celebrate," Harry continues, lowering his voice now. "My place tonight?"

The forwardness of Harry's suggestion and sudden topic change makes Louis quirk an eyebrow, almost wanting to avert is gaze because Harry's eyes are so piercing. "Sure, Styles. I suppose I have time."

Harry just nods with a satisfied press of his lips and that's the end of their conversation. Louis won't lie, he's definitely enjoying the new arrangement they have. Ever since he and Harry had that discussion in his bedroom the other day, he's been thinking about it a lot, and sort of realized he can't treat Harry the same anymore. It's just not physically possible. Harry is somewhat of a fragile thing to him now. Louis has seen him in all different types of situations, but nothing really compares to vulnerability of being alone and personal like they've been multiple times. Harry clearly expressed that if Louis was going to keep acting like he didn't enjoy what they were doing and being indignant about it, it wouldn't happen anymore. And obviously, Louis does like what they do. It's not like he's going to be Harry's friend by any means, but being snarky isn't going to get him anywhere, so he supposes that he should continue being civil with Harry as long as he wants to continue touching him. It seems like the only fair deal.

Louis isn't sure what that means for the future and how this entire thing is going to end — most likely blowing up in his face — but at the moment he's just excited for what will happen tonight. Harry might be annoying in the office and literally everywhere else, but the second they're alone together and he sees that look in Harry's eyes, he just can't get enough of him. He wants more than just hurriedly rubbing off on each other like impulsive teenagers.

The work day after that couldn't possibly go by any slower. Harry leaves to drop off some mail for Mr. Frederick at the post office so he's gone for about any hour while Louis is bored out of his mind. He never finds a game that isn't unlocked, except sudoku from the New York Times but he's too lazy to learn how to play it.

But once his shift is over, they drive separately to Harry's apartment building and somehow Louis gets there before him. He waits by the door, smiling once he sees Harry ascending from the stairs. There's already this excitement buzzing through him at the sight of the man, like he's been programmed to get horny once he lays eyes on him. Maybe that's just what attraction is? Who knows. Louis can't form a single thought the second Harry kisses him once he's close enough.

Their noses bump, lips sliding softly together. Harry attempts to maintain their embrace as he digs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door, but it doesn't work. Louis laughs as he lets out a frustrated huff and finally pulls away to stick the keys in the lock. Tugging Louis inside, Harry's hands cup his cheeks and places a small kiss on his nose.

"Want you naked."

Harry is always talking some shit about what he wants. Wants to touch Louis, wants to kiss him, wants to see him naked. The gentle demanding would be annoying if Louis didn't also want all of those things as well. And he's quick to let Harry undress him, as long as they get to keep snogging as he does it.

Harry's fingers reach out to button his shirt, Louis' back hitting the wall behind him as Harry's mouth attaches to his neck and his shirt is being tugged off his shoulders, dropping to the floor carelessly. "Harry," he moans. His eyes close and his breathing is already labored, overwhelmed by the quick change in pace.

"Mhm, I like the way you say my name." Harry absolutely beams, and pulls away from Louis' neck to push their lips together again. Louis practically drowns in the feeling, his lips are so soft and warm, always gentle even as he deepens the embrace.

"What's the plan for tonight?" Louis breathes out, seizing the opportunity when Harry looks down to focus on unbuttoning his pants.

Harry's flat is just as neat and tidy as Louis would've expected it to be. A little part of him just wants to mess it all up, see if Harry gets all annoyed. It would be fun, he thinks, but maybe another time.

"Well... I was hoping you could fuck me," Harry answers bluntly, licking his lips as he runs his large hands over Louis' torso, pressing his fingers into the space right below his bellybutton. "But I'll do anything you want."

"I like your idea." Louis nods, feeling his own lips quirk up. Harry's eyes glaze over, hands reaching out to tug Louis' pants down but Louis tuts softly, stopping Harry before he can touch him. "C'mon, Harold. Aren't you going to take me to your bedroom?"

Harry's cheeks bloom bright pink and then he's mumbling out a quiet sorry, grabbing Louis' hand and pulling him down the hallway. The second they get to Harry's room and the door is shut, both of their clothes start flying off as their hands work them over their limbs. Harry ends up getting stuck as he tries to pull his shirt over his head, letting out a strained laugh as he falls back on the bed and tries to wiggle out of the trap he created for himself. Louis watches, amused and naked down to his briefs, enjoying the show.

"Lou, stop being a jerk and help me," Harry huffs, body slumping against his bed and feet kicking out to blindly hit Louis. He grins and steps closer to Harry, propping himself up with one knee of the bed and helping Harry out of his trap, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips once he does so. Harry's face is bright red at this point, but moves on from the bump in the road by squirming out of his slacks. "Thanks for waiting a million years to help me," Harry grumbles, sticking his tongue out at Louis as Louis moves them further up the bed, straddling his hips.

"Oh, whatever." Louis chuckles, hands grasping for some sort of balance on Harry's chest. "I don't even like you — can barely tolerate you, actually," He murmurs.

"Really?" Harry's eyebrows raise, humming like he's humoring a child. "Then why do you keep coming back?"

"Because you're good at sucking me off," Louis answers without missing a beat, twisting one of Harry's many nipples to show that he's just being playful. Harry guffaws, face scrunching up with laughter as he pushes Louis' fingers away.

"You like me," Harry breathes out, lifting his head to latch onto Louis for another kiss. Louis sinks into it, groaning against his mouth and letting his hands explore Harry's naked torso. He's got such a nice little body, Louis can't help but wonder who he keeps himself so fit for. But the thoughts fizzle away when Harry's finger hooks into his briefs, breath tickling Louis' lips.

"I don't like you," Louis denies, letting his mouth drag over Harry's sharp jaw and pressing kisses hotly.

Harry slides his underwear off one leg at a time, eyes catching Louis' when the man tries to help him. "Keep saying that and I'll kick you out," Harry threatens, pinching the inside of his thigh with his pointer finger and thumb. Louis yelps and rubs at the sore spot, frowning down at his traitor.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. I've got plenty of memories of you to get off by myself." Harry giggles at his own humor. He shifts his hips as Louis moves down his legs to remove his briefs as well, tossing them somewhere around the room. It doesn't matter. Harry's cock is hard and practically leaking already, Louis wants to touch him so bad. But then he finally registers Harry's words, looking back up at the man.

"Wait — you get off to the thought of me?" Louis asks, smirking when Harry seems to realize what he just admitted and shakes his head quickly. A very bad liar, he is, almost worse than Louis.

"No, that's not — don't be so conceited. I don't."

"Sure, darling. Tell me what you think about then, hm?" He ducks his head down, waiting for Harry's response patiently as he presses wet kisses down the expanse of Harry's torso, hands gripping at his hips to keep him from squirming so damn much. Harry lets out a weak noise, fingers scratching at the soft sheets below him.

"Fine." Harry releases a high pitched sigh, spreading his legs desperately to give Louis room to settle between them. "I think about your — No, it's embarrassing. Just forget about it. I won't kick you out anymore."

"Harry," Louis speaks with a soft warning tone, hand traveling up Harry's thigh until he's right below his cock. "I want to know."

Harry whines, pushing into the feeling that isn't even there yet. "God, Louis. I — I just think about you... and your bum and your thighs," He stutters, pausing and clenching is eyelids shut once Louis' fingers wrap around his length, air pressing out of his lungs like a broken balloon. "And your pretty eyes, Lou. Your hands." He ruts up into Louis' touch at the last word, groaning. "And that time you touched me the very first night."

"You like thinking about that night?" Louis asks curiously, licking his lips as he lifts his head and watches Harry bask in the feeling of his hand stroking him up and down, so slow it's almost torturous. Louis can't help but be surprised Harry has actually gotten off to just the thought of him before. Louis has tried not to think about that night ever since it happened, but he supposes there's no harm in it now, because it seems simple compared to what they're doing now.

Harry lets out another noise, whole body reacting when Louis' mouth wraps around the tip of his cock, maneuvering himself more comfortably between Harry's long legs. "Yes, Lou. You were so — that night felt so good. Not any more than now, though," He admits, breathing out like all that information is finally off his chest. Louis wants to push for more details, wants to know every little thought running through Harry's mind and he's sure that he could probably get it just by touching him, but he doesn't want to push too far.

Instead, he pulls his mouth off, much to Harry's dismay. "Where're your lube and condoms?"

The rest of the night is nothing other than amazing. It seems that time pours over them like thick molasses, all the time in the world to sink into each other. Louis had sucked Harry off slow and wet, letting the man squirm around all he wanted as he did measuredly, wanting them both to enjoy it since he opened Harry up at the same time. Harry was so content with it all, falling silent with no more requests — just taking, and taking whatever Louis gave to him. That wasn't the last time Harry came that night, the first being once Louis had three fingers inside of him and pushed shallowly into his mouth, spurting down Louis' throat with a shout muffled by his pillow.

Louis climbed over him after that, taking that same pillow and gently sliding it under Harry's hips, who smiled lazily at him with this sparkle in his eyes. He helped Louis get the condom on eagerly, movements a little sluggish from his orgasm but otherwise still excited. It was when Louis saw Harry's hands shaking a little bit that he started to get nervous himself, leaning his body over the man and pressing tiny kisses into his hairline to soothe him. He reached for his trembling fingers because they looked like they needed something stable to hold, and Harry continued to kiss him like he was melting into it, tongue licking into Louis' mouth deliciously.

Their fingers laced together as Louis pushed into Harry, and everything just went blurry. It also seemed like every little detail was in such clarity as well if those two things can co-exist. The overwhelming smell of Harry that he couldn't possibly get enough of, the way Harry pulled him closer and small sounds he made. It could all become so easily addicting, Louis felt himself being drawn in by Harry's — just everything, really. And didn't want to escape this time.

He took it motion by motion, and Harry came first with a cry, as Louis thrusted roughly and pressed lazy kisses down his neck. Louis followed soon after that, feeling the sensation of Harry's legs wrapped around him, urging him to come and sliding his warm hands all over Louis' body like he couldn't stop exploring even if he wanted to. And Harry was kissing him before he could even get the condom off, or clean either of them up, mumbling incoherently against his lips as he tried to catch his breath but couldn't because he wouldn't stop kissing Louis.

Eventually he managed to pry himself away, not really caring at this point as he slid off the condom, threw it away, and then walked naked to Harry's bathroom to grab a washcloth. He didn't want Harry to fall asleep with come all down his stomach, even though the man was drifting off by the time he got back. So he cleaned him up, pulling the covers over him and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Harry whispers, voice hoarse and eyes peaking open when he hears Louis wiggling into his clothes around the room.

Louis stops mid-dressing, pants barely over his thighs. "You want me to... spend the night?" He asks, slightly weary as Harry shifts around in his bed. The sun isn't providing them much light to see each anymore, just a soft glow from the street lights outside that make Harry's eyes impossibly more green.

"Please?" Harry murmurs, sitting up on his elbows and nodding in confirmation. "I want you to."

So, Louis is undressing once again and climbs back into the warmth of Harry's embrace, immediately opening his arms for Louis to slide into. Harry tucks his face into the spot between Louis' shoulder and neck, breathing in deeply.

"At least wait until I fall asleep. You don't have to be here when I wake up," Harry says against his skin, holding their bodies together with a tight grip. Louis can feel his eyelashes fluttering against him, almost shivering at the feeling.

"Okay, darling. Just close your eyes," He whispers into Harry's curls, running his fingers up and down the dip of his spine soothingly. Harry's hair smells like strawberries and that's all Louis thinks about as he falls asleep, refusing to think about anything else. And he feels Harry's breathing even out, chest lifting up and down like a metronome, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

—

Pulling himself away from Harry after waking up that next morning is a lot more grueling than he thought it would be. There was the physical factor, Harry had his legs wrapped around his hips and hands clutched limply onto his arms. Louis' bleary eyes scanned over his sleeping face, lips parted slightly and curls sticking in every direction imaginable. The drool in the corner of his mouth should be gross but it was actually kind of cute.

There was also the mental factor. The voice in his head was telling him to get out of there and run as fast as he could before Harry woke up. He doesn't want to stay here and risk the inevitable awkward goodbyes they would have as Louis was forced to leave to go back to his own apartment and get dressed for work. But Harry looks so peaceful, and despite how annoying he finds him, moments like these make him wonder what it could be if the man didn't make his life so miserable for the past several months. Could they have gotten along all this time? Or was it just fate that Louis started to grow intolerant to all of Harry's qualities?

Louis releases a soft sigh, blinking until his vision is clear and reaching up to trace his finger along Harry's hair line. He does it so lightly as to not startle the man awake, just barely ghosting the pad of his finger along the shape of Harry's face. He can see the sun rising and hear the birds chirping, but he's in no hurry to get back to his flat. A part of him thinks it might be more awkward seeing Harry again after leaving him all alone, than if he were to just stay and get dressed together.

He startles when Harry's eyebrows twitch and his eyes are blinking open, yanking his hand away quickly. "Sorry," He mumbles awkwardly, voice scratchy. A wide smile stretches across Harry's face, dimples appearing as he releases Louis from his legs and opts for stretching them out tiredly.

"Mornin'," Harry whispers, all raspy and deep. He wraps his legs back around Louis the second he's done stretching, burying his cheek into the softness of his pillow. "You should keep doin' that, felt good."

Louis complies, running his fingers through Harry's soft and rumpled curls as Harry practically purrs like a cat. "You're so weird." Louis finds himself smiling despite it.

"You're the one who was watching me like a creep as I slept," Harry retorts softly, shuffling closer to Louis and ducking down to place a kiss on his bare shoulder. Louis feels a shiver run down his back, sharp and unmistakable. He misses waking up with someone in the morning, and can't help but want to savor the warmth of it all, even if it's with Harry.

Louis slides an arm around his waist, ceasing the petting of Harry's curls much to the man's disappointment. "I wasn't watching," He denies, but then Harry pulls away from his shoulder to look at him and suddenly it's difficult to lie. "Alright, alright. It's not my fault you took forever to wake up."

Harry just grins at him, eyes glowing. How can someone look so happy when the sun is barely up? "How much time do we have before work?"

"I dunno, probably about an hour. But I have to drive back to my place," Louis answers, tracing mindless patterns into the firm muscles of Harry's back.

"How about I make you breakfast and you just wear something of mine?" Harry suggests, sitting up on his elbow to peer down at Louis with laser focus. His eyes are so deeply green, it's hypnotic. But Louis doesn't want to be weak, fall for the intimacy of this morning and let Harry make him food and wear his clothes. He won't, because Harry isn't his boyfriend, barely even his friend, and a part of him feels like he's being sucked into the charm that he so strongly advocated against.

Louis reaches out to place a hand on Harry's chest, as if to soften the blow of his rejection. "Thank you, Harry. But I should probably head back, I have to feed Clifford and... your trousers would be too long for me anyway."

Harry's face falls as Louis climbs out of bed, a hand clutched around his white sheets to cover himself. He presses his lips together and watches silently as Louis gets dressed, sitting with his legs criss-crossed. The closeness of what they had in the bed is gone and now Louis is cold, but he slides his trousers back over his legs and buttons them up, not really minding the second-day wear of his clothes.

"Where's my shirt?" Louis looks around with a wrinkle between his brows.

Harry rubs at his nose sleepily, and that's when Louis notices the little lovebites placed on his chest. Easily hidden by clothes, thank goodness. "Probably somewhere by the front door, I think," He says, looking a little too smug about that fact as he traces his finger distractedly against the comforter below him.

"Okay, mister." Louis rolls his eyes, taking a step closer to the man still resting on the bed, trying not to be tempted by his nudity and miles of soft, golden skin. He's partially covered, which helps some amount. A part of him is hesitant to give a kiss goodbye, but Harry is looking up at him like he expects it and Louis doesn't want to let him down. So he grabs Harry's cheeks, ducking his head and pressing a slow, easy kiss to his lips. "I'll see you later."

Harry's dimples are back when he pulls away and Louis can't possibly help it when he leans down one more time and presses a gentle kiss to the bridge of Harry's nose. It could've been worse, he supposes.

"Okay, Lou. See you at nine." Harry's cheeks are a pink color at all the soft attention, threading his fingers through the sheets as Louis attempts to push down his messy hair.

Louis just looks at Harry one more time before walking out of his bedroom and making his way out of Harry's flat, picking up his discarded shirt on the way out and sliding it over his arms. He pats himself on the back for making it out of there without just absolutely wrecking Harry on his bed again. He feels like he could pretty much do anything now. He has a long day of work ahead of him, but something tells him it won't be so bad today. Maybe that's another plus of sleeping with Harry, work isn't so torturous anymore. He gets to sit across from a man that he hopes will be in his bed by the end of the night.

—

Any plan Louis might've had to bring Harry back to his and Zayn's flat to have sex again, is immediately ruined by the presence of their annoying friends. Louis is tugging Harry inside by the front of his shirt, when he sees the rest of the group sitting on the couch and startles, letting go of his grip as Harry smoothes out the wrinkles with a quiet laugh.

"Hey guys," Harry greets chipperly. The door shuts behind them and all the boys turn their attention away from the television.

"Oh, hey!" Niall smiles, waving his hand in the air. "Did you guys come to hang out with us?"

"No," Louis grumbles. He finally finds someone to hook up with that he can call whenever he'd like, but of course he didn't even consider the fact that Niall and Liam are never in their own homes.

Harry gives him a stern look, silently saying be nice — but Niall is Louis' friend and he'll be as grumpy as he wants for their plans being interrupted. "Yeah, what're you watching?" Harry asks, eyes narrowing as he observes what's playing on the TV. Louis watches him walk around the couch to sit down in the chair they have separate from the sofa. He supposes he should do the same, plopping down on the floor since there's not enough room on the couch.

"Some documentary about wildlife. Liam chose it," Zayn clarifies, digging his hand into a bag of mini pretzels and pulling out a few. Louis can feel Harry looking at him, but chooses to focus on Zayn instead. Harry is the one who decided to hang out with their friends and not just go to Louis' bedroom, so he's not going to be tempted by the pretty man's piercing gaze.

"Lou, come up here and sit with me," Harry instructs with a lowered voice as to not draw attention to himself. "You don't have to sit on the floor."

"Yeah, Lou. Go sit with your boyfriend," Niall teases, wiggling his eyebrows in Harry's direction, which earns an embarrassed flush from the man in return. Louis doesn't know how he chose the most insufferable people to associate himself with. He just ignores them and the aching in his back from sitting on the too-firm carpet.

Harry gives up on trying to get Louis to sit with him, instead catching up on what they missed with the movie. It's very boring, in Louis' humble opinion, this isn't necessarily how he wanted to spend his night. There's no surprise at all when Zayn falls asleep on Liam's shoulder, Louis wants to yawn purely out of boredom. At some point during the end of the film, Clifford jumps up to sit with Harry. Louis' mouth drops open in betrayal, as Harry giggles and cuddles the fluffy dog just to be cocky. He's so annoying.

"Oh, shit," Niall mumbles, looking up from his phone. "I should go before it gets too dark outside. Thanks for the snacks, Zayn — and Liam, I'll be waiting for your review of the movie. Bye, guys!" And with that, he's standing up, petting Clifford goodbye and walking out. Louis quickly steals his seat once the door closes shut.

"He definitely just forgot about some girl he was supposed to hook up with," Liam says softly so he doesn't wake up Zayn, chuckling to himself. Louis laughs along as well, propping his feet up on the short table in front of him. The last few minutes of the movie plays quietly throughout the room and Louis couldn't be more relieved, he's free from this torture and soon he'll be able to tear Harry's clothes off. But of course, Harry is ever the people-pleaser and he talks with Liam about some Marvel TV show as the end credits roll.

Louis doesn't want to act like a child and complain that Harry isn't paying enough attention to him. But god, even Clifford is receiving more smiles and pets than Louis. So annoying. He just listens to the conversation happening from either side of him, choosing the mature route and waiting patiently.

He never would've thought he'd be upset that Harry wasn't talking to him — looking at him, or even annoying him. I mean, this is Styles, he's talking about. The most irritating and stomach curling person Louis knows, but for some reason that doesn't seem so accurate anymore. It's hard to even acknowledge, because there's no way he can begin to believe that Harry isn't exactly the type of person Louis pegged him as the moment they met, but maybe a part of him was wrong. Just a little part. For the most part he was right about the man, he's still a jerk and gets everything he wants, but he supposes that he's not as selfish as Louis has always thought he was.

Harry is kind, and never dismisses anyone or makes fun of them. He's always looking at the bright side and even gave Louis a chance despite how much Louis hated him. Or — still hates him. Because he does still hate him. It's just something that Louis has noticed, is all, that maybe Harry has a couple of good qualities other than his eyes and his bum.

"Lou? I'm gonna take Zayn back to his room, thanks for watching the movie with us." Liam grins, and lifts Zayn up in his arms like it's the easiest thing in the world. Louis wants to roll his eyes, but it's kind of cute.

"Of course, see you later, mate." Louis waves, watching Liam carry Zayn to his bedroom down the hall.

He directs his gaze to Harry now, catching his eyes and unable to hold back the breath of relief that he lets out. Their plans were only set back by about an hour, but he's been itching to get his hands on Harry all day and won't let another thing stand in his way. Unless, Harry has changed his mind.

"You still wanna stay here tonight?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. Harry bites his lip, nodding up and down like he already knew Louis' question before he asked it. Any drowsiness from before washes away at the look in Harry's eyes.

"Would love to," Harry answers. He stands up from the chair, careful not to startle Clifford and then effectively drags Louis from off of the couch and down the hall. "I've never seen your room before," The man notes as they arrive, shutting the door behind them and glancing around.

"Yes, you have," Louis tells him with a laugh, amused at Harry's poor memory. "Remember when you were playing FIFA with the guys and came to find Zayn?"

Harry's eyes widen like it's coming back to him now, nodding again. "Well, I wasn't really looking at your room, if you know what I mean," He responds suggestively. Louis' face warms, understanding what Harry is implying a little too quickly. Just the acknowledgement that maybe Harry found him attractive before anything happened between them makes his head feel all floaty. Louis vividly remembers being self conscious about being shirtless when Harry appeared at his doorway.

"Yeah, I was really upset with you that day," Louis muses, poking Harry's chest. Harry dramatically reacts, holding onto his heart like he's just been shot. Louis wants to kiss him, but instead they're just talking on and on in the middle of his dimly-lit bedroom, still fully clothed. It's partially his fault.

"You were always upset with me, Lou. I wonder what changed?" He pretends to ponder over it, tapping at his chin for effect. Louis shakes his head, biting at the inside of his cheek to hold back from smiling.

"I suppose the orgasms calmed me down a bit." Louis shrugs, bashful despite his straightforward words. Harry lets out a laugh, grabbing onto Louis' arms and pulling him closer to the bed. At least Louis isn't the only one with that on his mind.

"Or... it's because you're starting to warm up to me," Harry adds with a smirk, hand trailing down Louis' arm and squeezing his hand. Louis' eyes can't help but to trail down to Harry's lips, getting more aroused the longer Harry touches him.

"That's what you think?"

"Yeah." Harry nods confidently. He smells so good and his smile is so beautiful, Louis doesn't want to put him down. He doesn't want to squash the idea of him warming up to Harry at all, because maybe there's a possibility it's becoming easier to tolerate him. Maybe.

"I suppose you're not awful company when you're not trying to steal my job and ruin my day," Louis tells him humorously, moving in closer until he can see the two little freckles by Harry's nose. A wide smile breaks out onto Harry's face, nose bumping against Louis' with how close they are. Louis just wants to kiss him, can feel it already. Harry's soft lips and the little noises he makes against Louis' mouth, the sweet taste lingering on his tongue.

"I'll take that," Harry giggles, fingers pulling Louis' body even close by tangling into the material of his shirt.

"Okay, darling. Take off your clothes now, please."

So that's what Harry does. Louis doesn't feel so shameful about admitting that he is starting to tolerate the man this time, especially by the bright look on Harry's face. He just looks so happy, is the thing, to be somewhat friends with Louis. And Louis might be okay with that. Friends is easy. Friends is something he can handle. If he told himself two months ago that he would even being saying that, he'd probably get slapped in the face. Because it's honestly so stupid. Harry gets naked a couple times and suddenly Louis is under this spell. But it's not even just that, really — the more time Louis spends with him outside of work, the more he forgets about how insufferable Harry is and how much of a suck-up he can be with their co-workers. It's not that he forgot, just simply feels like his other qualities make up for that.

If friends is what he and Harry are, then he doesn't mind. Because the best kind of friends are the ones you can fuck without any hurt feelings or strings attached. Just simply good sex without any romance or stress involved. This is exactly what Louis needed.

—

"Hey, man. You left this at our place on Tuesday," Louis tells Niall as he walks into his flat, holding up his black rain coat.

"Oh, awesome. I thought I lost this," Niall chuckles, closing the door behind Louis and hanging up the jacket on the coat hanger near his window. "You want a cup of tea?"

"Always," Louis answers simply.

He hasn't been to Niall's flat in London very much, since his friend mainly commutes to Doncaster for family events or work. It's pretty nice, a little smaller than his and Zayn's but perfect for just one guy. Niall leads him to the kitchen and Louis hops up on the counter, pulling out his phone as he receives a text.

"I swear these electric stoves are so weird," Niall grumbles after filling up his kettle with water. Louis shakes his head fondly, but continues texting and doesn't really offer any help. He wouldn't be that useful anyway, he's never used one of those fancy stoves before. "Who's that?" His friend asks when he sees Louis engrossed into his phone.

Louis hums, swinging his feet back and forth. "Just this guy, Flynn, that Zayn set me up with. I canceled our date and now he won't stop texting me."

Flynn was really attractive and nice, but after that night, Louis just really wasn't interested in him anymore. It wasn't anything personal, just didn't really feel a spark. Flynn keeps trying to hang out, though, insisting that it's just as friends. Louis has never been one to ghost people before, but if Flynn still doesn't back off after he tells him again he's not into the idea then he might have to. He feels a little mean, but truly he's just not interested, and doesn't think they'd be good friends anyway.

"Oh, because of Harry?"

Louis looks up from his phone, eyebrows furrowing. "No, not — it doesn't have anything to do with Harry." There's a small pause where Louis stares at Niall skeptically. He's confused why he would just bring that up so randomly. Of course it doesn't have anything to do with Harry.

"You sure? I'm still confused why you two aren't together yet?" Niall asks, turning to him with a genuinely muddled expression. "Just considering how crazy Harry said he was about you within the first like, ten minutes of us meeting..." The man's words die in his throat, brain finally catching up to his rambling and he freezes.

Louis' heart stops and he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Everything feels like it just went completely still, and it doesn't help at all that Niall's mouth is all the way open in pure shock. "What did you say?" He can feel all the blood rushing from his face, voice all high as he questions his friend. He hops off of the counter, but the floor sways beneath his feet like he's on a rocking boat.

Niall is looking at him with wide eyes, face even paler than Louis'. "Oh my god, please don't tell him I told you that. Just forget it." He waves his hands around, trying to convince Louis, but he's just confused.

Crazy about him? What does that even mean? Does that mean Harry has feelings for him? Like, genuine, romantic feelings? That would be incredibly ironic, considering just a couple days ago on Tuesday night he was thinking about how awesome it was, to find someone he could sleep with without any complications involved.

There's a long pause between them, as Louis gets lost in his thoughts and Niall stares with his bright blue eyes. Louis' head is starting to throb unpleasantly, like it's going to explode any second.

"Does Harry have feelings for me?" He finally asks, tone suspicious but not as firm as he wants to be. His voice is still squeaky from being caught off guard like that. There's no possible way what Niall said is true. His friends have always liked to tease him about his and Harry's situation, and it wouldn't be completely out of character for this to be a huge joke. It would just be incredibly cruel.

Niall just stares at him, fish-mouthing helplessly. "Um ... no?"

"Niall," Louis warns, raising his eyebrows. "Tell me the truth, right now."

The man in front of him sighs, shaking his head. "Louis, I can't just share his business like that. It's not my place."

"Fine," Louis huffs, closing his eyes tightly and stuffing his phone into his pocket.

"You should talk to him," Niall suggests with a cautious tone, like Louis is something fragile right now.

Louis looks at him sharply. He feels absolutely angry at the entire thing unfolding in front of his eyes right now. A whole new light has been revealed and Louis doesn't like it. He despises it, actually. Because of course, of course, the second he starts to somewhat care about Harry and enjoying their time together, this bomb is just dropped in front of him. Ruining all of it. It's like Harry just can't let things be the way they are. He couldn't handle Louis not liking him, and then the second Louis wants to be his friend, now he has feelings for him?! That's absolutely ridiculous.

"I'm gonna go, Ni. Thank you for the tea but I think I'm gonna go back to my flat."

"Okay," Niall responds slowly, twisting his mouth to the side. "You're not gonna tell Harry I told you, right?"

Maybe it's the absolute insanity Louis is going through right now, but he lets out a tiny laugh. Just Niall being afraid of someone as gentle and lanky as Harry is actually kind of funny. And eases the tight ball in his chest for a second.

"No, mate, don't worry about it," He murmurs, stepping forward to squeeze Niall's shoulder but then waving and walking out of the kitchen, leaving his flat all together.

Louis tried to avoid any thoughts about Harry on his walk back to his apartment building, but that seems a little impossible due to the news that was just dropped into his lap so casually. It's just so frustrating. Why wouldn't Harry tell him? That's what confuses him so much. If Harry apparently had feelings for him as long as he's known Niall or maybe even longer, why hasn't the man even attempted to let Louis know? They see each other every day and even sit across from each other at the same desks for eight hours Monday through Friday. Harry had every opportunity to tell him, and that's what makes it so unbelievable. He's sure that if Harry was crazy about him, as Niall said, Harry would be the type of person to just say that.

The conversation he had with Harry over the phone this morning comes flooding back to his mind as he's walking up the stairs to reach his flat's level. He sees Harry waiting patiently by his door, scrolling through his phone with his shoulder leaning against the wall. They had agreed to meet up for lunch today, and Louis is suddenly wondering why the hell he would agree to that, since they've never shared a meal together in their life. He feels sick to his stomach, approaching Harry with careful steps.

Harry notices his presence before he can even say anything, looking up from his phone and smiling. "Hey, Lou. I would've waited inside but Zayn wasn't here to unlock the door." He shrugs simply, stepping closer to Louis but Louis takes a step back. Harry's smile falters and tucks his phone into his pocket. "Everything okay?"

Louis nods, grabbing his keys and brushing past Harry to unlock his door. He can't even look Harry in the eyes. "Yeah — yeah. I think I need to talk to you about something."

Harry pauses in the doorway, watching Louis walk inside his flat and slide off his shoes. Louis wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole, Harry is already looking at him like he's sad and Louis just can't stand it. But he has to stand his ground. This can't go on any longer if Harry has feelings for him. That's just not what Louis signed up for. The idea of being with Harry makes him hold a hand to his stomach, eyes catching on the man again in his pretty blue sweater that he has to fold the sleeves because they're too long.

"Okay..." Harry says slowly, finally stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "What's wrong?"

Louis walks quickly to the couch to sit down, trying to stall from actually talking. Harry follows lead, looking more than uncomfortable as Louis sits as far away from him as possible. Louis knows if he sits any closer he's not even going to be able to speak in proper sentences.

"I was um — I was just thinking earlier?" He tells him as more of a question and sees Harry swallow nervously, even though Louis hasn't said much of anything yet. He refrains from telling Harry about what Niall said less than forty minutes ago. Louis wants answers, but he promised he wouldn't tell and he's not sure if he really wants the honest answers anyway.

"Okay?" Harry has this crease between his eyebrows, hands folded in his lap.

"I just don't think this is really working out," Louis explains softly, letting out a small sigh and watching as Harry reacts. It's not much of anything, but his body tenses up and he starts to chew on his bottom lip. Louis rushes to elaborate. "I'm not really — I just don't think this is good for either of us, you know?"

Harry shakes his head quickly. "I'm confused, Louis. You're saying... you don't want to sleep with each other anymore?" Harry asks, lips tugging downwards into a hard frown.

"Yes, Harry," Louis huffs, standing up because he just can't stand the way Harry is looking at him. Louis isn't the one who is causing the problems. It's Harry that's making things way more complicated than they have to be. Everything would be fine if he just got over his stupid feelings. He doesn't even know if what Niall said was true still, but either way, Louis doesn't want to take that chance. "It's not like this wasn't going to happen eventually? We both knew it wouldn't last long."

Harry scoffs suddenly, standing up as well. "Are you serious? That's just what you're going to tell me, right now? No explanation at all?" The angered energy seems to quickly bounce from Louis to Harry, like it puts him on edge and he's defending himself.

"Why do I have to have an explanation?" Louis' eyebrows knit together, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what's the big deal, anyway?"

"Because you just said things were getting better, Louis! And now we're back at stage one and you're looking at me like I'm the last person you want to see right now," Harry exclaims, eyes glossy with emotion.

"Nothing has changed, Harry. I'm not going anywhere and I meant what I said — I don't — I don't hate you anymore, okay? I like spending time with you, I just don't think we should sleep together anymore."

"But, why?" Harry asks brokenly, shaking his head like he's rejecting Louis' halfhearted explanation. "I need to know why," He says again, more firm this time around.

Louis feels his own eyes starting to burn with the threat of tears, looking down at the floor with a clenched jaw. "Because — I just don't want to, okay? I don't want to do that with you anymore." Louis scratches at his neck, still not looking up even as Harry takes a step back like he wants to leave. To escape. Louis feels a lump forming in his throat. "Please, don't be upset, darling."

Harry is just shaking his head when Louis lifts his gaze, chin trembling. "Don't call me that."

"Please, I really think this is better for both of us — "

"So then, what now? You go back to hating me until you decide you want me again?" Harry questions bitterly, angry gaze landing on Louis from a distance.

Louis shakes his head too, head pounding from the stress of everything. He never expected this reaction from Harry. He thought since they haven't even been sleeping together for more than just three weeks that it would be easy to break things off. The whole point was to end it before anybody got hurt, but it doesn't seem to be that simple.

"I'm not going anywhere, Harry. I still want you, just — not in that way," Louis ends with a quiet tone. Of course he still wants Harry, more than anything, but romantic feelings involved just makes it too complicated. Shouldn't Harry be relieved? If he really does have feelings for Louis, then he's ending their agreement before he begins to feel led on. Louis thought he was doing the right thing by avoiding that, but Harry looks hurt and that wasn't his intentions by any means.

Tears fall down Harry's cheeks and he just wipes them away with the back of his hands, taking a step back but Louis approaches him before he can try to leave, hands reaching out to pull Harry closer.

"I don't hate you," Louis says, squeezing his arm and lifting his hand to wipe a stray tear from Harry's chin. "Please, don't cry, darling. I could never hate you — ever, ever again," He promises, wrapping his arms around him and Harry leans into it with a quiet sob, arms wrapping around Louis' middle.

"Well, I think I'm starting to hate you," Harry mumbles, tucking his face into the curve of Louis' shoulder. Tears brush onto Louis' neck and his heart feels like it's being pulled apart at the seams, bit by bit until there's absolutely nothing left. He snorts softly despite it, hands rubbing up and down Harry's back soothingly.

"That's okay."

—

His bed is nice, Louis thinks. The mattress is soft enough to sink into and his comforter easily wraps around his entire body. He's been laying in his bed for about three hours ever since he woke up, the room doesn't move around him or change at all, and that's soothing. Louis' head isn't completely clear of thoughts, and he wonders if there's any sort of medicine he could take just to shut his brain off for the day. He could lay here all weekend and just stare out of his window, no consequences. He deserves to do what he wants on Saturdays, and if that includes completely neglecting his health and hygiene, then so be it.

"Louis," Zayn calls, knocking hard on his door for what might be the sixth time. Louis sighs at the new interruption and sinks further into the embrace of his blankets. "If you don't answer me and confirm that you're still alive then I'll have to come in."

"I'm alive," Louis grumbles, voice cracking from not speaking all morning.

Then the door is opening and Louis turns to glare at Zayn, who gives him an unimpressed look in return. "Jesus, Lou. What's wrong? Are you having a menstrual cycle?" Zayn asks, stepping over the pile of clothes next to the door and approaching the bed.

"Leave me alone," Louis sighs, closing his eyes again and turning away from Zayn.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

God, Zayn is so stubborn. Louis doesn't even know what's wrong himself, to be quite honest. All he wanted to do was relax, so if there's anything wrong — it's the annoying man barging into his room. 

There's been this sinking feeling in his stomach ever since he had that confrontation with Harry, and it just won't go away. The image of Harry crying has been playing on a loop in his brain for what feels like weeks, even though it's barely been two days. Harry hasn't spoken a word to him since he left his flat that day, ignoring all of Louis' calls and somehow completely avoiding him at work. He understands that Harry is still upset with him, but it just hurts. His whole body aches at the thought of Harry actually hating him. It's insane to think about how much Louis has managed to care about this entire situation, completely contradicting how certain he was that Harry wasn't important to him. But obviously that has changed. How could it not? Harry has shown him time and time again that he's not the person Louis thought he was. 

Maybe it's Louis' pride that's getting in the way. He always thought he had a pretty good read on Harry, always knew what kind of person he was and how to successfully keep him at an arm's length. But that never worked out. Harry and his stupid dimples, always drawing Louis in and making his limbs feel like jello. Completely under his spell. Louis is trying not to think about everything that happened, but his sadness is too prominent to ignore.

"Nothing, Zayn. I'm just trying to relax," He sighs, rolling onto his back to look over at his friend. Zayn has his arms crossed over his chest, and he knows Louis too well for his own good.

"Did something happen with... someone?" Zayn asks, sitting down on the edge of Louis' bed. It's obvious that he's referencing Harry and just the mention of him makes Louis' exterior crumble weakly.

"He's mad at me," Louis explains quietly, curling his legs up to his chest. 

"Why? What did you do?" Zayn questions, blatantly curious about Louis' drama. Louis groans and pulls himself up to rest his back against his headboard, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"I thought I was doing the right thing!" He answers earnestly, lifting his hands in the air with exasperation. "Niall said this stupid thing about Harry having feelings for me... and I just sort of panicked, I think? I mean — I didn't want to keep sleeping with Harry if there were feelings involved."

Zayn mulls it over for a moment, eyebrows twitching together at the last couple of words. "So... what? You ended things with him?"

Louis just nods, unsure of how else to respond. He still thinks it was the mature thing to do. Harry deserves someone who he can sleep with that reciprocates his romantic feelings, and Louis just isn't that person. It would be evil to continue having sex with Harry with the knowledge that he has some crush on him. Zayn doesn't look like he wants to gloat right now, despite being right about Harry all along.

"Well, you should know that I wasn't aware of you're situation with Harry until now..." Zayn starts and Louis doesn't know how to interpret that. 

"Okay?"

"I sort of invited everybody over to watch a the football game I recorded, and that includes Harry," He says, mouth twisting with uncertainty. 

"Harry said he would come over?" Louis asks, unable to help the hopeful lilt to his voice. If Harry was willing to come over to their flat, then he must be willing to forgive Louis, right?

Zayn shrugs. "Yeah, he said he'd be here at noon with Liam and Niall."

"Noon?!" Louis jumps up from the bed. It's almost noon right now, Louis probably smells like  three-day-old clothes and hasn't even brushed his teeth since yesterday morning. Zayn laughs at his panic, so Louis just shoos him away until he can close the door and panic in private.

Louis straightens up his room a little bit, just in the small chance that Harry will be in here at any point during the day. He doesn't want Harry thinking he's a slob. And while he's cleaning up the pieces of trash on his nightstand, he stops and wonders when he started to care what Harry thought of him. But then he sees that he has ten minutes before the man that occupies his thoughts is going to get here and needs to hop in the shower.

By the time Louis feels like he's presentable enough to face Harry again, he has to gain the courage to step outside of his room. He can already hear Niall's loud chatter and the others' voices carrying through their apartment. A wave of fear washes over him, unaware of what the worst case scenario would be. He supposes nothing extremely horrible could happen, Harry isn't the type of person to cause a scene in front of all their friends.

He finally just takes a deep breath and steps out into the hallway, tentatively approaching the living room as he tugs on the bottom of his t-shirt. Harry is easy to find, leaning against the wall as he watches Zayn try to figure out how to find the recorded game on their streaming service. He looks as good as ever, hand wrapped around his beer bottle and wearing a small shirt to accommodate the hot weather.

Harry laughs when Zayn lets out a string of frustrated curses, and Louis has this surge of confidence to walk up to him. Liam and Niall walk in at that same second, but it doesn't pull Louis' attention away from the man.

"Hey, Harry," Louis breathes out, crossing his arms over his chest to ease the uncomfortable queasy feeling in his gut. Harry's eyes catch his and a ringing sound starts to burn at Louis' ears. 

"Hey." And then Harry is brushing past him like this is the most casual thing ever, sitting down on the couch next to Niall and taking a sip of his beer. Louis just watches, speechless.

It's not like he was expecting a hug or for Harry to scream in his face, but maybe a little something other than indifference. He supposes that's better than Harry completely ignoring him all together, so he sits down in the chair next to their sofa and awkwardly tries to keep his focus on the television instead of Harry. He can definitely do that. Harry doesn't have total control over every single thought of his, he can survive the day with his friends and not try to seek out Harry's attention.

He can feel Niall glancing between the two cautiously, because he's really the only one who has known what's been going on from the very second it started. Louis chooses to ignore it, letting his body relax into his chair once the game finally starts and there's something to snap the tension away. 

Easy conversation filters throughout the room as the game plays in front of them, sometimes relevant to what they're watching and sometimes not so relevant. Louis doesn't really contribute much, just listens intently whenever Harry chimes in. He thinks about all those times he took advantage of being close to Harry, being able to touch him and kiss him whenever he pleased. And now that's just gone, completely out of his reach forever. It was for the best, he tries to tell himself, but the aching in Louis' heart makes him believe otherwise.

He never would have ended their arrangement if he knew it would mean that he'd lose Harry completely.

Louis' whole body perks up to attention when Harry stands up to probably grab another beer, walking into the kitchen. Louis immediately stands up as well, following after him. He's not really sure what the plan is, just knows that he wants to talk to Harry alone and this is his first chance of doing so. Never in his life did he think he'd be desperate for Harry to tell him that things are okay between them, but here he is doing it anyway.

"Harry," Louis murmurs, which makes the man turn away from the refrigerator.

"Oh... hey." Harry faces away from him again, grabbing a beer bottle from the bottom shelf. "Is this okay?" He waves the bottle around, eyebrows raised as he closes the door to the fridge. He doesn't seem upset, but something about his demeanor is cold. 

"Yes, of course." Louis finds himself nodding, stepping in front of Harry to block him from leaving. "Can we talk?"

"About what?" 

Every little thing Louis has had run through his mind since their conversation a couple days ago suddenly doesn't feel so important anymore. He just wants Harry to stop looking at him like he's a stranger.

"I don't — I don't know."

"Listen, Tomlinson. I'm not really in the mood for you to waste my time." Harry tries to walk away again but Louis curls his fingers around his arm, stopping him.

"Hey, c'mon, don't do that," Louis pleads.

"Don't do what?"

"Talk to me, like... like we're just coworkers again." Louis finds his hold on Harry turning desperate, just not wanting him to leave but not able to think of any reason why he should stay. 

Harry shakes his head, lips pressing into a thin line. "Because we are just coworkers, Louis."

"No, we're not."

"Yes, we are." Harry huffs, pulling his arm out of Louis' grasp. "Isn't that what you wanted, all along? For me to leave you alone? Because that's what I'm doing — you should be relieved."

"Harry, stop, that's not what I want at all. I thought we were friends?" 

Something unrelenting curls deep in Louis' stomach, spreading through him like a disease. He can't stand the way Harry is looking at him and he doesn't know why. This is all so stupid. Of course that's what he wanted for a long time, to just be free of Harry and not have to deal with him. But it's just different now, it's different.

Harry isn't just Styles anymore, the guy who's trying to steal his promotion. He's Harry, and Louis doesn't feel like he needs to elaborate at all, because that's enough reason. Harry is enough reason for Louis to feel like he's going insane. There's no way for Louis to even begin to understand why he feels this way. But Harry is looking at him with his distant green eyes and nothing has ever hurt this much before.

"Well, I don't want to be your friend. Can't you just accept that?"

And then he's walking away before Louis can stop him and everything inside of him crumbles to ash. He feels sick to his stomach, leaning against the counter top and taking a second by himself before he goes back out to his friends. It seems like Niall was wrong all along. Harry doesn't have feelings for him or anything even close. He doesn't even want to be Louis' friend and something break inside of him when he realizes he's always been wrong about Harry. Always assumed incorrectly and just can't pin him down to save his life. He's hopeless.

—

Louis waits nervously, arriving to work ten minutes early to put the bouquet of flowers onto Harry's desk before the man gets here. He's not really sure why he felt the need to get Harry a gift, but he seems like the type of person to enjoy flowers and think that they're pretty. Louis was just walking by the convenience store on his way to work this morning and thought it would be nice to buy them for him. Maybe it would show that he can be a good friend? He just wants Harry to smile and maybe pink tulips are the way to do that. 

Harry finally arrives right on time, adjusting the collar of his shirt on his way over and stopping in his tracks once he sees the bouquet on his desk. He looks at them curiously, taking slow steps closer and picking them up to look for a note or something. Suddenly, Louis feels embarrassed, and sits there quietly as he tries to think of a way to tell Harry that the flowers are from him. But then Harry is looking over at him and all words die in his throat.

"Do you know who left these?" Harry asks, scrunching his nose like he's confused, and glances around as if they could be for someone else.

"They're for you," Louis finally speaks, coughing into his fist and fiddling with his pen. "I just got them this morning."

Harry's eyes go back to the flowers and then back up to Louis, setting them down on the desk carefully. "Why?" 

Louis shrugs, his face heating up with more embarrassment. He's drowning in it. He's never gotten flowers for anyone before except his mum for Mother's Day, it seems stupid now that Harry is looking at him. He wants to chuck them across the room just so Harry forgets about it.

"I don't know," Louis mumbles, lowering his chin as he shifts a couple papers around. Harry sits down across from him, grabbing a pen from his bag. "Just thought of you, I suppose."

Harry simply doesn't respond, just stares at Louis for a couple moments and then switches his computer on. And that's it. No more questions or comments. Louis watches the flowers sit in the exact same spot the entire day, and finds himself wilting like he imagines they will when Harry throws them away. 

—

Curling up on your bathroom floor is the oldest trick in the book to cope with never ending heartache. It's been five days since Louis' confrontation with Harry and everything just feels so blurry, like Louis couldn't focus on anything even if he tried unless Harry is standing in front of him. He has his job interview tomorrow with Amber, but doesn't know if he's so excited for it so much anymore.

A new job would mean permanent disconnection from Harry. There would be no reason to see him unless they were spending time with their friends, but even then, Harry still doesn't talk to him. Louis is so fucking confused why he cares so much. This is everything he's wanted since the beginning of the year but it's all just so wrong. Everything without Harry feels wrong. He finally realizes how amazing he is and is just genuinely infatuated with everything about him, and then he messes it all up. Harry has to come in with his strong feelings and pretty eyes and Louis just doesn't have the capacity to deal with it.

A part of him is upset with Niall, for making him actually believe Harry had feelings for him. He's upset with Zayn too, for doing the same thing. Harry couldn't care less about him, and it's becoming quiet clear. All Louis wants is to be his friend, treat him how he deserves to be treated and kiss him until they're both of breath. He misses Harry's legs and the little creases that appear on his cheek in the morning when he's slept really good. He misses Harry's touch the most, the way he used to grab Louis like he was the most stable thing he could find. And the way he'd smile whenever Louis said something nice, no matter how simple it was. He feels pathetic.

Louis lets out a sigh and rests the side of his forehead against the cold tile, throat getting tight at all these thoughts about Harry. It's not crazy to consider that maybe Louis does care about Harry more than normal. I mean, he does like him. Likes everything about him. But he doesn't love him or have romantic feelings for him. He wouldn't mind going on a date with Harry or being his partner, but that doesn't mean he has feelings for him. Okay. Does he think Harry is the most special person in the world and want nothing more than to hold him forever? Yes. But that doesn't mean anything. Louis would rather die than be Harry Styles' boyfriend.

But he loves him, and the idea of waking up next to Harry every morning makes his whole body go warm and fuzzy.

Louis pulls himself up from the floor, groaning at the way his back cracks and pops. He rubs at his eyes tiredly, wondering if Harry is awake right now and if it'd be super annoying to call him at this time of night. He stands up slowly and walks out to search his room for his phone, finding it somewhere in the sea of his blankets. 

Scrolling until he finds Harry's contact, he clicks call before he can chicken out. 

Harry picks up on the second ring.

"Louis? Is everything okay?"

Louis takes a deep breath, scratching at his nose with embarrassment when he sees that it's almost one o'clock in the morning from his alarm clock.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just wanted to talk to you."

"Louis..."

"I know, Harry." Louis feels his throat starting to give out and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I just — I miss you." He starts to pace around his room, as if he's trying to exercise this love out of him but he hears Harry's voice and his whole body sparks.

"Why don't you come over? Not for — for sex or anything, but if you need to talk?" Harry suggests groggily, and Louis would feel bad for waking him up if he wasn't so excited to see him.

"Yes, okay, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Alright, Lou. See you then."

And then Harry is hanging up and Louis rushes to put some more clothes on. He's not sure what the plan is once he gets to Harry's flat. A part of him wants to tell Harry again how much he misses him, and tell him that it was a mistake to end things because nothing has been more miserable in his entire life. But there's a huge risk of facing rejection. Louis has seen that pitiful look Harry gets on his face when he's rejecting someone. Once, a woman from the second floor came up to their desks to ask Harry for his number, and Harry looked more than sympathetic when he had to tell her he was gay and uninterested. Louis doesn't really want to deal with that tonight.

As Louis is walking up the stairs up to the floor Harry's flat is on, he thinks maybe just mending things with Harry would be the best solution. He doesn't need to have sex with Harry to be happy, or to kiss him or touch him. All he really wants is for Harry to be in his life again. No more drama, no more mixed feelings, no more hatred, he just wants Harry to know how much he values him in his life.

Harry answers the door all sleep rumpled and pretty, his curls pulled back with a little hair tie and that's always been Louis' weakness. He just smiles tentatively and hopes Harry didn't change his mind in the small amount of time it took him to arrive.

"C'mon." Harry gestures him inside and Louis follows. 

The place is dimly lit, just light from the street outside filtering in and an orange lamp turned on beside Harry's bookshelf. It smells like Harry all around, and Louis suddenly feels like he can finally fall asleep. He looks over at the table in front of Harry's sofa, biting his lip when he sees the flowers he got for him the other day sitting neatly in a glass vase of water.

"Want some tea?" 

Louis nods quickly, tearing his gaze away from the flowers and following Harry into the kitchen, squinting when the bright light is flicked on. "Yeah, sounds great."

There's a silence between them as Harry grabs his kettle and fills it up with water, turning on the stove and then rummaging through his cabinets to find any box of tea. Louis just watches him, letting his back lean against the counter top. Harry's tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth as he struggles to pull out a tea bag from the box.

"I wanted to tell you why I... sort of called things off between us," Louis breaks the silence, unable to stay quiet any longer and hold back this information. He needs to know if what Niall said was true. If Harry has feelings for him, then he needs Harry to know that he feels the same. He's tired of running away scared. Harry deserves someone who's stable, who can be everything for him, and Louis is more than willing to be that person.

Harry spares a small glance in his direction, green eyes glowing under the light. "Okay," he responds softly.

"I guess — I was sort of just startled, you know, because I was talking to Niall that same day — " Harry fully looks at him now, interest peaked as Louis continues. " — and he said something about you... having feelings for me? Or something of the sorts?" Louis' voice gets all high, embarrassed to even be bringing it up. There's a huge chance that Niall was wrong and maybe just interpreted Harry's words the wrong way, but Louis is okay with the embarrassment as long as he finds out the truth.

Harry's eyes go slightly wide, shaking his head immediately and turning away. "I never said that — I mean, I don't have, like, fancy you or anything. We're not in high school."

"I know, Harry. I'm just confused... I dunno." Louis shrugs, rubbing his nose. "So, you don't feel that way about me?"

Harry looks at him again and everything just goes still, waiting for some kind of response. All he gets is another shake of Harry's head, a small sigh escaping his lips. "No, I don't know why he would say that."

Louis bites his lip, ignoring the sinking of his chest. He was expecting that response, but it still hurts. He just stares down at his shoes, wondering how he let himself get this twisted up in feelings for Harry when Harry never even felt that way for him to begin with.

"Right, well, that's why I ended things. But then I realized tonight... that I wouldn't mind if you did have feelings for me," Louis admits slowly, not bothering to watch for Harry's reaction. "Or if you fancied me like we were in high school." He shrugs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

He can feel Harry's eyes on him, the tea left abandoned as he listens to Louis continue.

"Because I care about you, Harry. And I'm sorry for taking so long to tell you that I love you. Because I do."

He looks at Harry carefully, and watches his mouth opening and then closing again, standing up straight as if shocked by Louis' confession. 

"Lou..."

"I know, you don't even have to say it. I just wanted you to know — "

"Just shut up for a second," Harry interrupts him, taking only two steps forward before pulling Louis in for a bruising kiss. Louis' entire body reacts immediately, letting his hands slide around Harry's middle as he moves their lips together slowly but surely. "You're such a fucking idiot. I love you, too."

Louis pulls back, mouth open and eyes wide. "Wait — seriously?" His hands clench around Harry's shirt, scared that somehow Harry might slip out of his reach. His lips are still tingling and he can practically feel Harry's heart racing, their chests pushed so closely together. Everything feels so real all of the sudden, a weight lifting off of him as he realizes that Harry knows how he feels about him. And he doesn't feel like pushing him away or running off.

Harry breaks into a small smile and the whole world spins around them. And then he presses another kiss to Louis' lips, gentle and mind consuming. "Of course, I was — kind of lying before. I'll have to kill Niall for telling you."

"No, no, I promised I wouldn't tell you he said anything," Louis laughs, pulling Harry closer to him and sinking into the feeling of being so close to him again. He never wants to lose this, he'll hold on tight for as long as he can. Harry's fingers slide through his hair, scratching at his scalp as if soothing him.

"I missed you," He whispers softly, squeezing Louis closer. Louis wants to hide away from the intensity of his stare, but squeezes Harry's hips in return.

"I missed you more."

"No, you didn't," Harry chuckles, scoffing as if Louis would lie about something like that.

"Want me to prove it to you?" He wiggles his eyebrows and something flashes in Harry's eyes, another laugh escaping him. Louis just wants to wrap him in a blanket and kiss him forever. Wants to hold him and show him how much he loves him, poke his dimples and play with his hair.

"I'd love that."

They kiss for the rest of the night, lips getting red and swollen, but melting into each other until they run out of breath. Making up for lost time is easy, and Louis finds himself excited to wake up beside Harry the next morning. It's just the simple things like this, Harry makes things feel so much more special. He won't sugarcoat things, and pretend that jumping into a relationship with Harry isn't terrifying, but something about the knowledge that Harry will be right next to him the entire time makes it less scary. And seeing the smile on Harry's face makes it even easier.

—

"Good news!" Louis shouts as he walks into his flat, thankful to see all his close friends are already sitting in his living room with Zayn so he can share the news all at once. He spots Harry on the closest end of the couch to the door and smiles. "Hi, darling." He pauses his announcement to lean down and kiss Harry on the forehead, brushing his curls away from his face. Harry blushes in return.

"Okay, okay, c'mon, tell us what happened at the interview," Liam insists impatiently, clapping his hands. Louis shrugs off his jacket and continues.

"Well, Amber and I talked for a while, and one of their editors switched departments and she offered me their position!" He exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. Harry gasps and stands up, while the other guys cheer. And then Harry is kissing him and Louis forgets everything else.

"That's amazing, Lou, so proud of you," He says between kisses, holding Louis' chin as he guides him closer.

An exaggerated gag interrupts them, and they both turn to see Zayn pretending to throw up over the edge of the couch. Louis steps away from Harry to grab a pillow and chuck it straight at Zayn's head. Idiot.

"Don't worry, lovebirds. Zayn is just upset because he owes me twenty pounds for you two getting together before August." Niall smirks, holding out his palm as Zayn stops his performance to search for his wallet, grumbling something about greedy blond men.

Harry gasps, a hand to his heart. He's so cute. And then somehow it turns into an argument of how their friend group never has interesting drama. Louis pulls Harry onto the couch with him, hand on his thigh and tugging him closer. Things seem to be falling into place just like Louis wanted them to, not exactly in the way he expected, but somehow better. 

He doesn't want to dwell over how long it took him to realize how great Harry was, he's just thankful to be with him now and that everything is okay. Being without him just made Louis realize that Harry in some way always makes things better. He loves that annoying guy with every piece of his heart and isn't embarrassed to say it anymore. God, just the fact that he's even saying that is so cheesy and unbelievable, but it feels right. Everything with Harry feels right.

—