Archive of Our Own

Harry is late.

He slept through his alarms (all ten of them), got stuck in traffic on the motorway (shocking), and then couldn’t find a place to park (despite having his own space). So now, here he is, in the lift twenty minutes after his start time, without his usual coffee and sorely missing the caffeine. Also, feeling a little bit like punching Michael from accounts square in the jaw for parking his stupid fucking Tesla in his space.

The lift opens onto his floor and he steps out of it quickly, checking his watch for the hundredth time. 

“Thank god you’re here, I was just about to call you,” a soft voice calls from the reception desk, bringing a smile to Harry’s face for the first time this morning.

“Scared you’d miss me too much?” Harry asks, forgetting that he’s supposed to be rushing and stopping by the desk, leaning against it and fiddling with one of the pen pots.

Louis, exasperated, bats his hand away. “No, scared you might miss the emergency nine thirty meeting your uncle called five minutes ago. Rough morning? You look awful.”

“Such a charmer, omega. I overslept. What sort of mood is he in this morning?” 

“Terrible. He’s threatened to fire me three times already,” Louis answers, eyes roaming Harry’s figure, frowning. “Who the fuck dressed you, a toddler?”

Harry looks down at himself, confused. And, oh, fuck. His tie is all crooked, barely even done up, and his shirt has a stain on it from god knows what. “I was in a rush! You’re being awfully rude this morning, I thought work wives were supposed to be nice.”

Getting up from his chair and rounding the desk, Louis is rolling his eyes at him. It’s hard not to find it endearing. “You started the work wife thing, I don’t recall agreeing,” he teases, delicate hands coming up to fix Harry’s tie. “And I’m not being rude on purpose, I’m just tired, he called me up at stupid o’clock asking me to get shit for him as if I’m his bloody personal assistant.”

Harry frowns further, taking in the omega and the bags under his pretty blue eyes. He does look more tired than usual, usually the light of the office, practically bouncing off the walls and cheering everyone up. His uncle’s actual PA, a beta called Tyler, is fucking awful at his job but the idiot won’t fire him because he’s the son of his latest omega conquest. “Do you want me to talk to him?” Harry asks quietly, concerned. 

Louis shakes his head, patting Harry’s chest gently when the tie is sorted. “No, you know what everyone’s like. I don’t need the gossip that comes with getting an alpha to fix everything for me, especially not the boss's nephew. Thank you, though,” he says with a small smile. “You’re a good work husband,” he adds teasingly, taking a step back.

“I’m the best, I know.” Harry laughs, stopping abruptly when he checks his smartwatch, seeing that he now has just three minutes to get to the meeting room. “Fuck, is it too late to call in sick?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Harry groans. “I better get going then, nephew or not he’ll chop my knot off if I’m not in there on time.”

“And what a shame that would be,” Louis says, voice dripping with sarcasm, as he takes his seat once again behind the sleek white desk. “Your lunch is in the fridge. Change into your gym clothes and drop that shirt off to me at the end of the day and I’ll get the stain out,” he says offhandedly as he starts to type away at the computer.

Harry grins, unable to stop himself. “Not a wife, hm?” 

“Piss off.” He doesn’t look up but Harry doesn’t miss the small smile that makes its way onto his face.

“See you later, darling,” Harry calls as he strolls off, picking up his pace as soon as he’s out of Louis’ eyesight because he refuses to be seen speed walking through the halls by the omega. He’d never hear the end of it, he’d be reminded of how embarrassing it was until the end of time.

By the time lunch rolls around, Harry is just about ready to kill someone. 

The emergency meeting was anything but an emergency, just his uncle wanting to gather everyone to talk about some upcoming event that he couldn’t care less about. All of the information could have easily been put in an email that he wouldn’t have bothered reading. 

He didn’t manage to get his hands on a coffee for the rest of the morning, too caught up in emails and phone calls and fighting not to quit.

Now, finally, it’s lunch. Harry practically runs to the break room, a decent sized room with a small kitchenette and a couple of tables, and grabs his navy blue box from the fridge, ignoring the few people in there and taking it back to his desk so he doesn’t have to deal with the two omega women that camp in there every lunch break eyeing him up as he eats. 

Tearing the lid off the box, he can’t help but grin at the pink slip of paper he finds placed on top of the sandwich.

He unfolds it. 

‘Why did the chicken cross the road? Who fucking cares. Your favourite sandwich today! Chicken and bacon with cheese and honey mustard :D Enjoy - Your favourite omega x’

Grinning even more, he slips the note into the drawer where all the others lie and all but tears into the perfectly crafted, prettily presented sandwich. It’s heaven, as always. It’s hard to pinpoint any of his favourite lunches he’s received from the omega but Louis was right, this is his favourite sandwich.

The lunches had started around a year ago, not long after Louis had started at the company. Louis and Harry spoke often, Harry completely drawn to the omega and always finding himself at the front desk, bothering him. Harry’s love of home cooked food but lack of skill to actually make it had come up in conversation, and Louis had quickly offered to make him lunch the next day. Angel that he is, it had become a thing after that. Now, Harry tries not to expect it, but every day, without fail, there will be food in the fridge with his name on it.

Even when Louis went on holiday a few months ago, he had turned up on his last day at work with a bag of pre-prepared easily freezable meals. Harry could have kissed him then.

He thinks about kissing him often. It’s a problem.

Zoned out with a mouth full of food, the alpha almost jumps when a cup lands on the desk in front of him.

“Niall told me you hadn’t managed to get a coffee all day. Said you were being a right prick,” Louis’ voice sounds from next to him. He turns in the chair, looking up at the man. God, he really is an angel, even under the harsh office fluorescents.

Swallowing a little too quickly, Harry gives him a smile. “First my favourite sandwich and now a coffee, is it my birthday?” 

“Most people would say thank you,” Louis says. 

“Thank you, Louis,” Harry says, placing the hand not holding his sandwich over his heart. “You are an angel, my favourite person, love of my life, best receptionist in the world, only—“

“Alright, I get the point,” Louis stops him, laughing that sweet little laugh. “Dickhead.” 

Harry grins, taking another bite and talking as he chews. “Been any better since this morning? He seemed a bit more cheery after the meeting.”

Louis pulls a face, probably at his lack of manners, and shrugs. “He hasn’t bothered me too much. Phone’s been ringing all bloody day though, I only just got away.”

“And you brought me coffee instead of getting your own lunch?” Harry asks, swallowing. 

Louis shrugs again, perching on the edge of Harry’s desk and stealing a crisp from the lunchbox and plopping it into his mouth. “I didn’t actually have time to make my own this morning. I’ll grab something from the vending machine when I go back,” he answers. 

Harry frowns. He doesn’t like that answer, not at all. “You have to eat something proper, omega,” he says, trying not to sound patronising. “Here, have the other half of this.” The alpha grabs the other half of the sandwich, handing it to Louis.

Louis takes it, albeit a little unwillingly. 

“Thank you,” the omega says, taking a bite. It warms Harry more than it should, watching him eat. 

They finish Harry’s lunch together, making little quips here and there. Harry all but forces Louis to take a few of his crisps too, holding the box out with a glare every time he refuses. 

Harry drinks the coffee with too much joy, thankful beyond belief that the other man knows him so well. With the caffeine finally in his system, and the comfort of Louis’ company, he might make it through the day without snapping.

When they finish eating, Louis takes Harry’s cup and finishes the last of the coffee, grimacing as he does. “I don’t know how you can stomach that shit without sugar,” he says, dropping the cup back down. 

“Quite easily,” Harry replies, only a little upset that Louis finished his drink. Then, he’s offended. “Are you saying I smell bad?” he asks, knowing how heavily coffee-based his scent is.

Louis rolls his eyes. “I like the smell of coffee. And your scent is—it’s fine, calm yourself.”

Harry isn’t sure if that’s a compliment or not, but the omega has only been nice to him today so he’ll take it.

“Feeling less grumpy now?” he asks instead of anything else, swerving away from scent talk before he starts wondering what Louis smells like under his blockers.

“A bit,” Louis answers, giving him a small smile. “I better get back, remember to bring me that shirt later, alright?”

“I will, I will,” Harry laughs, handing him the empty lunchbox. “Only if you let me walk you out, I’m not letting you stay late again tonight when you’re this tired.”

Louis looks like he might protest for a moment, an adorable little frown on his face, before he takes notice of Harry’s raised eyebrow and rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he says, throwing his hands up, dislodging himself from his space perched on Harry’s desk. “You can give me a lift to the train station, then.”

Harry was going to do that whether Louis asked or not. It’s right next to the gym and Harry has dropped him off plenty of times, whenever he can convince Louis to actually leave on time. 

“Deal.” 

With another smile that goes right to Harry’s heart, as they always do, Louis leaves him to get back to the work he really can’t be arsed to do.

He doesn’t hate his job. It’s easy. It brings in money that he can put away for the life he doesn’t have with the omega he hasn’t found yet. It’s a simple 9-5 with great benefits with the added bonus of being at his uncle’s company, so it’s stable. Stable is what he wants. And it really isn’t all that bad aside from being completely mind numbing.

Fresh out of sixth form at eighteen with absolutely no desire to go to uni and absolutely no clue of what he wanted to do with his life, his uncle had offered him a job at his newest business venture, a marketing start up, and now ten years later it’s an extremely successful company and Harry makes far too much money pressing keys and answering emails. Money that he rarely spends, and regularly invests. So that one day, hopefully, he doesn’t have to bother coming in anymore.

The past year of working here has been his favourite yet, and Harry knows it’s all because of Louis. Louis, who is easily one of Harry’s best friends, and favourite people. 

Louis, who will probably keep him here for as long as he stays.

Louis, who is waiting at the front desk when Harry finishes work, coat and scarf on, still typing away at the computer.

Harry watches him for a moment, watching the way he frowns at the screen like it’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve.

The omega works too much. That much was evident the moment he started, twenty-four and eager to please, ready to do anything to gain approval and not be seen as a useless omega. As far as companies go, this one isn’t bad when it comes to omega equality and fair treatment, but society as a whole still has a long way to go and it’s obvious that some people think that Louis is there to look pretty and do whatever they ask. 

Harry would quite like to show those people where to stick their outdated opinions. Louis does far, far more than just sit there and look pretty. As pretty as he is, and he really is, he also single-handedly keeps the company running smoothly. Before him, it’s a wonder anything got done. He does more than his role as a receptionist requires, for barely above minimum wage.

It’s hard not to admire him, knowing all he does. 

“You know I can tell when you’re staring at me, right?” Louis says suddenly, frown melting away as he flicks his gaze over to Harry.

Harry grins, unfazed by being caught. “I’m always staring,” he answers. “You ready?”

Sighing, the omega flicks the monitor off and stands up, grabbing his bag from where it was resting by the side of the chair. He gives Harry a once over, probably scrutinising his joggers and hoodie, before plastering on a smile. “God, I am so ready for bed,” he says as they walk towards the lifts. “I don’t know how you go to the gym after work every day, honestly.”

Harry laughs. “Not every day, and I don’t do as much work as you do.”

Louis shrugs, stepping into the lift as the door opens, Harry joining him. They stand close together even in the relatively spacious lift, sides touching. 

“You work hard,” Louis says. “Harder than Niall, that’s for sure.”

“Everyone works harder than Niall. I don’t know if he even has a desk at this point.”

They walk out of the lift side by side when it stops on the ground floor, leaving the building and walking to the other end of the huge car park to where Harry’s Jeep is parked. Harry, ever the gentleman, opens the passenger door for Louis and just barely fights the urge to lay a hand on his lower back as he climbs in.

When he’s sure Louis is settled, he shuts the door and rounds the car to jump in the driver’s side, throwing his bag over into the backseat and finally handing Louis the stained shirt before he starts the car.

“I do know how to get stains out, you know?” Harry says as he backs out of the space, steadfastly ignoring the way Louis’ delicate hands hold his shirt in his lap. “I may be an alpha but I'm not completely useless.”

Louis laughs, the sweet sound filling the car. “You came into work last week with your suit jacket on inside out.”

Gaze firmly on the road, Harry grins. “An honest mistake,” he defends.

“Mm, of course. Anyway, I like doing stuff like this. It’s not a hardship for me to get a stain out of your shirt, or make your lunch. It’s soothing, you know? Like, my omega enjoys it,” Louis says, embarrassment seeping into his voice as he fiddles with the shirt, Harry watching him do it out of the corner of his eye. “Is that weird?” he adds quietly.

Harry takes a hand off the wheel to place it over Louis’ fidgeting ones, squeezing them gently. “It’s not weird, you know I don’t find it weird. I don’t know how I'd function without you these days, honestly.”

“You’d be eating Tesco meal deals every day and walking around with your tie falling off,” Louis teases.

“And very, very sad without your pretty face around to cheer me up,” Harry adds, squeezing Louis’ hands again before forcing himself to put both hands back on the wheel before he crashes the car by being more bothered about touching Louis than changing gears or indicating.

“Charmer,” Louis says, laughing like he doesn’t entirely believe it, or thinks it’s some sort of joke. “I’m sorry if I’m a bit more emotional in the coming weeks, I’m having to come off my suppressants so I can have some tests done and it’s already doing my head in. You’re going to have to deal with my stench too, I can’t even use scent blockers starting next week. HR had a fit about it when I told them, they think I might bring the whole office down with my omega ways or some shit. As if Sam and Jodie aren’t constantly stinking the place up? And every single bloody alpha?”

Harry himself doesn’t usually think that much about any of it. He steers clear of the two omega women as best as he can, both of them hell-bent on flirting with him. He didn’t mind it, before Louis. Even encouraged, sometimes, which is why they’re so set on bothering him still.

It’s a shock, the knowledge that Louis will be off blockers and off suppressants. It’s hard enough being around him now, with all of the biological temptations safely tucked away. 

“The tests, not anything serious I hope?” Harry says, effectively ignoring the rest.

“No, they just need to check everything is as it should be. They weren’t happy about me being on suppressants anyway.”

“Oh, I mean it’s rare right? To be on suppressants? I’ve never been with an omega who was,” he says, noticing how clueless he sounds even to himself.

“Yeah, it can mess things up a bit once you’re off them. I might have more heats or less heats or more intense heats, or other issues,” Louis answers, sounding somewhat flustered. “I might stay off them, actually. Might be easier to find an alpha that way.”

Harry’s tight grip on the steering wheel increases tenfold. “I really don’t think you’ll have a problem with that, either way,” he says as evenly as he can.

The thought really shouldn’t piss Harry off so much. They’re friends. Really good friends. Wanting to fuck Louis a little bit really shouldn’t bring forth this sort of jealousy.

His alpha doesn’t really seem to get the memo on that though. 

“Mm,” Louis hums, the sound somewhat disbelieving. The rest of the drive is silent, until they pull into the gym car park and pull into a space.

“Text me when you’re home safe?” Harry says before Louis has a chance to get out of the car, nervously eyeing up the darkening sky. 

“‘Course,” Louis replies easily, smiling. “Thank you for the lift.”

“Any time, really.” He might start insisting, actually. It’s a solid forty-five minute walk, even for Harry and his long legs. He hates the idea of Louis walking that twice each day, along with god knows how long it takes to walk from the train station to his flat.

Louis doesn’t answer this time, just grins and hops out of the car, bag slung over his shoulder and Harry’s stained shirt in his right hand.

Harry follows, locking the car with a press of a button and jogging around to meet the omega on the other side. 

“What’s for lunch tomorrow?” Harry asks cheekily, leaning against the car. 

“Spoilers!” Louis answers, as he always does. 

“Such a tease. I might just have to get myself a sandwich from Greggs on the way in instead, switch it up a bit.”

Louis scowls at that, reaching out to swat Harry’s chest. “No you bloody well won’t. Ungrateful alpha, I swear,” he grumps, shaking his head in a huff before cracking slightly, warm mirthful eyes squinting up at him. “You better piss off now, I need to catch my train.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry says, holding his hands up. “Get gone then.”

They hug quickly before going their separate ways, Louis to his train and Harry into the gym to greet Lila, the sweet omega receptionist who’s always on shift when he goes in. She’s quite like the female version of his own omega receptionist, all soft brown hair and bright blue eyes.

In another life he would go after her. In another life he did , slept with her twice when he started coming to this gym a few years ago. It didn’t go anywhere, and they managed to form some sort of friendship that may involve a little too much flirting.

Something stops him from advancing it any further. A roadblock that he can’t quite get past. If that certain roadblock formed around a year ago, Harry isn’t going to unpack that.

She smiles at him when he walks through the doors, fluttering her eyelashes. Louis too prominent on his mind to flirt with anyone else, he only flashes her a smile before slipping through the changing room doors.

[Image attachment of a close up of a chicken breast smothered in spices.]

Louis: A little sneak peek of tomorrow’s lunch for you. Don’t say I never give you anything >:( x

Harry: You’re perfect, I can’t wait. What did you have for dinner? 

Louis: A pot noodle lmao x

Harry: Omega. 

Louis: Don’t start! I actually grabbed a Mcdonalds from the station, the pot noodle was more of a snack. Don’t know why you’re worrying about me when you’re the one who can’t bloody cook. What did YOU have? x

Harry: …..

Louis: You had a pot noodle didn’t you? x

Harry: Maybe.

Louis: Dickhead x

The rest of the week passes in somewhat of a blur. The lead up to the weekend is filled with a higher workload than he’s used to having, meaning that between entering the building and leaving it, Harry has very little time to do anything but sit at his desk until it’s time to grab his lunch and try and scarf it down whilst still typing away.

On Wednesday, lunch is chicken pasta, with a note that is nothing more than a doodle of a cat and Louis’ signature.

On Thursday it’s sushi, homemade, with a note that says ‘ Remember to chew before you swallow, I’m the only one here who’s first aid trained and I’m not giving you the heimlich. Lou x’

On Friday, as it has been every Friday since the lunches started, it’s steak and rice and a whole heap of vegetables. Actual, real steak. Medium rare just how he likes it and perfectly presented even smushed into the container. Harry had actually proposed marriage, the first time Louis had made him that particular meal. It had been laughed off with a pleased blush from the omega, but Harry had meant it wholeheartedly. The note that comes with the steak this Friday reads ‘ It’s been a busy week but you’re free for two days now, yipee! You better rest, Alpha. No gym for you. Enjoy your lunch, and come find me after work, I have cupcakes. Louis x’

Harry is reading the note again after eating, smiling to himself, when the great blond annoyance finds him.

“Christ, mate, you two are disgusting,” Niall says, appearing out of nowhere as he often does and leaning against his cubicle. “Have you done anything about it yet?”

Dropping the note into the drawer and slamming it shut, Harry turns a glare on the other alpha. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers, leaning back in his chair and reaching over to absentmindedly wiggle the computer mouse so the screen doesn’t go black. 

Niall’s grin is just as annoying as his entire presence. Harry hates that he’s somehow ended up with the man as one of his best friends. 

“I love this little game we have, where I ask you if you’ve finally locked Louis down yet and you act as if we’ve never spoken of it before.”

“We’re friends, Niall. Friends,” Harry throws back. If he had a pound for every time he’d said that exact sentence, he probably wouldn’t have to come back into work on Monday. 

“Literally everyone in the office refers to him as your wife,” Niall says. Also not for the first time. 

It’s bloody groundhog day in here, Harry thinks.

“It’s a joke. Like your hair.” To add to the childishness of that statement, Harry throws a pen at the man, grinning when it connects with his forehead and bounces off somewhere behind the cubicle.

Niall takes it frustratingly well, his grin widening. “You’re talking about my hair with that hairline?” the Irishman quips back, and Harry realises why he’s so smug. He’s won. 

“Fuck off back to work,” Harry huffs with only a little bit of bite, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the computer screen in front of him. 

Laughing, Niall steps away from the cubicle. “Tell your wife to open the link I sent him on whatsapp and text me back,” he says before walking off, leaving Harry frowning at the multitude of words and numbers and graphics on the screen, mind firmly on the stupid angry feeling in his chest at the thought of Louis messaging another alpha.

Even if that alpha is Niall, who’s firmly taken and more of an annoyance to Louis than he is to Harry.

He doesn’t get much work done for the rest of the day.

“Is my hairline that bad?” Harry asks when he finally makes it to Louis’ desk at the end of the day. If he’s borderline pouting over it, it’s only because it’s been a long week and he’s late to finish and he’s tired.

The omega, still working even when he should have been gone twenty minutes ago, looks up with a grimace that says it all.

“Great,” Harry huffs, grabbing one of the chairs meant for guests to wait and plopping it down behind the desk before falling into it, content to wait around until Louis finishes even if he just wants to go home. 

Louis watches him the whole while, before finally cracking a tired smile. “You’re still very handsome, Harry,” he says placatingly.

Harry doesn’t like the tone. “You said that like you’re telling your child he looks good for school picture day.”

The omega laughs then, a real laugh without the tiredness that has plagued him throughout the week. It looks good on him.

“You’re hot , is that what you want to hear? Will that help your fragile alpha ego?” Louis asks, still laughing. 

“If you mean it, yeah.”

The eye roll he gets in response would kill a lesser man. “Of course I mean it, prick,” he says, kicking Harry’s foot softly with his own before turning back to the computer as an email notification comes through. “There’s cupcakes in the bottom drawer,” he adds, absentmindedly gesturing towards the drawers by where Harry has plonked himself. “Take as many as you want.”

Harry scoots the chair over so he can open the drawer, finding a small white cake box in there and pulling it out as carefully as the space he has will allow. Placing it in his lap so as not to disturb the organised disorganised mess that is Louis’ work station, he prises the lid off the box.

Inside the box are four red velvet cupcakes. Harry’s favourite. Harry knows, because he knows Louis, that the omega hates red velvet. With a passion that scares Harry sometimes.

They’d gone to a bakery together once, the one a few doors down from the office building, and Harry had been treated to a ten minute rant about how red velvet is just glorified chocolate cake. Harry spent the entire ten minutes trying not to laugh, throwing glances at the increasingly concerned old beta woman just trying to ask what they wanted.

So Louis presenting him with a box of red velvet cupcakes is…something.

“Did you make these?” he asks.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, woke up at like 4am and just felt like baking something,” Louis answers distractedly, frowning at the computer.

And that, that affects Harry more than it should. The image of Louis, tired but restless, pottering around his kitchen before the sun has even risen, baking something he hates. For Harry. Because it is for him, he knows that, even if the omega won’t outright say it. He doesn’t do these things for any of their coworkers. Just him.

And some terrible cocky part of him just lights up at that. 

“Woke Zayn up by accident,” Louis adds, snorting softly at the memory, killing Harry’s buzz with a few words.

Fucking Zayn. 

Harry doesn’t really know a lot about Zayn, other than that he lives with Louis, he’s an alpha, they were together at one point, and that the fucker has him blocked on instagram. Blocked. For what? Harry really has no idea. Only that he went to check one day when Louis had posted a rather cosy looking picture with him, only to find that he couldn’t access the man’s profile. Since then, he’s had less than kind feelings for the man. 

Less than kind feelings that don’t have anything to do with the other alpha being far too close to Louis for Harry’s liking. Not at all.

“Let me take you somewhere for dinner?” Harry blurts out suddenly, taking his eyes off the cupcakes and staring at the omega who turns to him with an adorably confused little frown.

“What?”

“If you stay here any longer it’s going to be just you and the cleaners, and I know there’s no emails pressing enough that you have to do unpaid overtime. Let me buy you some food and then I’ll drive you home myself, okay?” Harry’s not taking no for an answer, he decides. 

Louis seems to think on it for a moment, tired eyes flickering from the alpha to the computer screen, before he sighs and quickly logs out. “You know I live, like, over an hour away, right? In the opposite direction of where you live?” 

Harry shrugs. “Get your stuff, I’ll go get the car warm,” he says in response, carefully taking the cupcake box and leaving the omega to finish up. 

He does as he said he would, sitting in the Jeep waiting with the heaters on full blast until Louis makes his way out of the building and joins him. The omega breathes a sigh of relief as he settles in the seat beside him, putting his hands up to the heaters to catch the warm air more directly. Harry can’t help but smile at him, eyes lingering a little too long at the way his cheeks are tinged with pink from the cold November air, and the way his delicate fingers look hovering in front of the fans. He wants to hold them, more than he should.

The omega turns to smile at him then. “Where are we going then?” he asks, moving his hands away from the heater and putting them in his lap. 

Harry freezes, feeling somewhat caught. “Pizza Hut?” he asks, the first thing that comes to his mind. It’s hardly special, or what the omega deserves, but this isn’t a date and it might be weird to suggest some big fancy restaurant. “There’s one close to where you live, right? By the big Asda?”

Louis nods. “Works for me.”

Harry nods, shaking all of the thoughts out of his head and pulling the car out of the car park.

About fifty minutes later, when Harry expertly pulls into a too-small space in the cramped car park outside the Pizza Hut, Louis is asleep.

He’s been asleep for the past half an hour, curled towards Harry. The alpha hadn’t noticed at first, chatting away about unimportant things to fill the silence, his eyes firmly on the road. Then, Louis had made a soft sound, not really a snore but just the quiet sort of noise someone makes when they’re comfortable and content on the edge of sleep. Harry had been quiet from then on, scared to even breathe out of fear of awakening him.

Now, after killing the engine, Harry waits for a moment, listening to the soft breathing coming from the omega. Then, carefully, he reaches across and shakes Louis’ shoulder.

“Lou?”

Louis stirs, blinking awake. Harry’s hand slips off quickly.

“I fell asleep?” Louis asks, frowning and rubbing at his still-tired eyes. 

“Mm, about half an hour ago. We’re here,” Harry answers.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how tired I was.”

“No need to apologise, you getting rest is exactly my plan,” the alpha laughs. “Now get your lovely arse out of my car so I can feed you.”

He doesn’t stick around to see the blush on Louis’ face come and go, hopping out of the car and rounding it to fling the door open for the omega before he gets the chance to do as he’s told. 

They walk into the crowded restaurant together, the Friday evening dinner rush alive and well. Luckily, as busy as it is, it’s not long until they’re seated at a small table smack bang in the middle of the chaos. Their drinks orders are taken quickly by a pretty blonde omega who Harry would surely take more notice of if Louis weren’t right in front of him, smiling at the woman who’s being far too friendly, towards Harry at least. 

Once she’s gone, Harry finds himself momentarily distracted by his surroundings. There are families, parents with sticky-fingered and greasy-faced little pups, groups of friends (mostly teenagers, still in their school uniforms), and two rather large parties with tables pushed together and balloons tied to the backs of chairs. What Harry didn’t really expect were the couples. There are a few dotted around the room, all soft smiles and talking between bites. They aren’t first date couples, or even second or third date couples, all of them have the kind of comfortable ease with each other that you can spot from across the room. The kind of couples that come to Pizza Hut on a Friday evening just for a change. Harry has never gotten to that stage of a relationship, the connection always fizzling out before they’d graduated from expensive food and swanky bars.

What he doesn’t see on his quick look around the restaurant is anyone that looks like him and Louis. An alpha and an omega, having a friendly meal.

“Oi,” Louis’ voice cuts through his thinking. Harry snaps his attention back to the omega. “I was asking what you were going to order,” he laughs.

“Oh, sorry.” Harry looks down at the menu quickly, frowning at the overwhelming number of choices. “Pizza?”

“Pizza,” Louis repeats, mocking the alpha’s deep voice. 

Harry swats his arm gently with the menu, laughing. “Shut up,” he laughs. “Meat feast probably, gotta get that protein in if you aren’t going to let me go to the gym.”

“As if you bloody need the gym.”

Smirking, Harry looks back down at the menu. “What do you fancy?”

“The veggie one looks nice,” Louis answers, contemplative. 

The waitress chooses that moment to come back, a hint of a floral scent coming with her. She asks Harry for his order first, which is to be expected, so he orders the meat feast pizza along with a ridiculous number of sides for the two of them to share. Then, with an appraising look between the two of them, she throws her plastered-on smile towards Louis.

“And for your omega?” she asks with a tinge of bitterness.

“Oh, he’s n–“

“A small veggie, please,” Louis cuts in quickly, grinning at the omega like she hadn’t been slighting him the whole time. 

“Of course,” she replies, jotting it down before leaving them with another look towards Harry.

Louis is fuming the moment she walks away, huffing and fiddling with the sauce bottles at the edge of the table. Harry watches him warily for a moment, confused. 

“What was all that about?” he dares to ask.

“She was so rude!” Louis whisper-shouts, glaring at Harry. “She comes over here stinking up the place with her scent and then decides to flirt with you even though she thinks you’re my alpha. It’s disrespectful.”

Something about Louis saying the words my alpha , even in the way he did, goes straight to Harry’s dick. He resolutely ignores that.

“I didn’t think she was flirting,” he says.

“You never do,” Louis mutters.

“What?”

“Everyone flirts with you, Harry.”

Harry frowns. “I don’t think that’s strictly true.”

It happens often, he can admit. He doesn’t notice it as much these days, so maybe there’s something he’s missing, but he’s quite sure it isn’t as much of a thing as Louis seems to think it is. 

And Louis really seems to think it is, if the way that he’s looking at Harry is anything to go by.

“You really don’t see it?” Louis asks.

Harry shrugs.

“That explains so much,” the omega says then, laughing a little to himself. 

“I’m not sure if I even want to know what you mean by that,” Harry says, watching the omega intently. 

“I’ll tell you one day, when I think you can handle it,” Louis answers, and then winks. Winks. Right at Harry, a sly little grin on his pretty face.

“You’re a menace,” is all Harry can say to that.

“I’m your menace now, you’re going to have to let that waitress know just how good of an alpha you are after showing me up like that and letting her flirt with you.” 

The alpha can’t help the cocky smirk that overtakes his face, leaning forward in his chair just a little and taking the omega’s hand from across the table to bring it to his lips. “I’ll be the best alpha you’ve ever had, princess,” he says into the soft skin before lowering their hands back to the table, not letting go. 

Louis squirms a little in his seat and Harry thinks he might be blushing but can’t quite tell in the poor lighting. “Is that so?” he asks, a strange breathlessness to his voice.

“Of course,” Harry answers, too softly. 

Their hands stay clasped on the table until their food arrives. It’s less weird than it probably should be, holding hands in public with your coworker and sort of best friend. They’ve always been physical, never afraid to reach out and touch each other for any reason, or hug at the end of the day or when one of them just needs one. So there’s nothing really weird about holding Louis’ hand, other than the fact that he doesn’t want to let go, and that he can’t help but run his thumb back and forth across the smooth skin, marvelling at how well they fit together.

Maybe it’s a little weird. But still, they talk as if everything is normal, Louis going off into a passionate rant about Tyler and his inability to do his own job. 

The rant is still ongoing when their food arrives.

“He’s just such a fucking idiot, you know? Like, he literally asked me how to use the printer…the printer! Even Niall can use the printer. The man has been here longer than I have! How did he even survive before I came and started doing everything for him? I know he’s your uncle’s stepson or whatever but can’t he get him a job somewhere else, I’m so done with—”

“Uh,” a soft interruption stops the ranting, both of them turning towards it to find the waitress standing there with an armful of plates. She starts putting the plates on the table, forcing them to finally let go of each other.

“I’ll be back with the pizzas in a minute,” she says before scurrying off again.

Harry starts laughing the moment she’s out of earshot. “I think you scared her off all by yourself,” he says, grabbing a chip and throwing it in his mouth. 

Louis groans, covering his face in embarrassment for a moment before throwing his hands back down in defeat. It’s very endearing, Harry thinks. “Do you think she was standing there a while? I was going on for a solid ten minutes.”

“She would have said something sooner. Eat.” The alpha gestures towards the array of sides taking up half the table, taking another chip for himself.

The omega is frowning again. “You ordered these,” he says.

“For you, silly. Have as much as you want.”

“Oh,” he says, pausing for a moment before he grabs a piece of garlic bread and tucks in. Harry, pleased, watches him eat like a total creep. He knows it’s creepy, but his inner alpha is jumping for joy watching his omega eat.

His omega. Christ , this really is a problem.

Thankfully, the waitress saves him from his thoughts, coming back with both of their pizzas. She places the larger meat-covered pizza in front of Harry, bending rather unnecessarily and giving him a direct look at her admittedly rather lovely chest. He looks away before he can be caught staring by the one omega here he cares about, eyes firmly on him as she moves to place the veggie pizza in front of him. 

Louis’ eyes are cold, in complete contrast to the polite smile he’s giving the woman.

“Thank you,” Harry says to her, not wanting to look like a dick. “It looks lovely, doesn’t it, baby?” He directs the question to Louis, who’s eyes turn warm the moment Harry speaks to him.

“It looks great,” he says, grinning wider than he has all night. “Thanks, love,” he adds to the waitress, who gives them a tight smile before leaving them.

So smug he’s practically glowing, Louis grabs a slice of his pizza and takes a bite, a piece of red onion sliding off and back onto the board the pizza came on. Harry grins at him before tucking in himself.

They don’t talk much while they eat, instead focusing on filling their faces. Harry finds that as much as he loves Louis’ voice, and could spend hours upon hours listening to him ramble on, he quite enjoys the easy silence they often fall into. 

Louis, much to Harry and his alpha’s pleasure, eats every last bite of his pizza and more than his share of the sides. Harry polishes his own off just the same. By the time all the plates are empty, Louis is leaning back against the back of his chair, groaning.

Harry and his large appetite are doing just fine. “Dessert?” he asks, half-joking.

Horrified, Louis stares at him. “Are you joking? I think Zayn might have to roll me into bed.”

It says a lot about how content Harry is right now that the mention of Zayn anywhere near Louis’ bed only momentarily makes him want to throw something.

“I could ask them to box you something up to take home,” he offers.

Louis shakes his head. “I genuinely don’t think I’ll be able to eat until lunchtime tomorrow. You can get something though, I don’t mind waiting.”

“I’m good,” Harry says, taking a napkin from the table and wiping his mouth with it before crumpling it up on top of one of the plates. “I have some cupcakes in my car made by a very beautiful omega, I don’t need anything from here,” he adds, grinning at the way Louis flushes.

“You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” 

“Only for you, darling.”

The eye roll he gets for that is completely overshadowed by the blush still painting his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. Then, those blue eyes are flitting away from him and to somewhere over his shoulder. Harry doesn’t have time to turn to see what he’s looking at before Louis is waving the person over.

It’s the waitress, he realises when she steps into view. 

“Is everything okay?” she asks, sounding much more genuine now that she seems to be over whatever inner turmoil she was going through before.

Louis nods, smiling at her, still not quite entirely friendly. “Could we get the bill, please?“ he asks.

“Of course! Give me just a second,” she says before rushing off.

Harry’s eyes don’t leave Louis for the few minutes it takes her to come back and place the bill on the table in front of him on its little black tray. Louis moves to take it but quickly shrinks back when the alpha shakes his head.

Smug at being listened to without having to say a word, Harry pulls his wallet out of his trouser pocket and places a small stack of notes on the tray.

“Keep the change,” he says, not really bothering to check how much that is.

“Oh! Thank you, sir. Have a nice evening, both of you!” she says, flashing a real smile as she takes the tray and leaves them for the last time. Louis watches her leave with faint amusement, Harry watching him.

“You know you just gave her almost twenty quid?” Louis asks, standing up from his chair with some effort and grabbing his coat from the back of it. 

“And?“ Harry gets up too, putting his wallet back in his pocket and stepping forward to help Louis put his coat on before they brave the outside world again.

“And she probably thinks you’re in love with her now,” he says, swirling round to face the alpha. He looks so cute in his coat, all bundled up, that Harry has to refrain from wrapping his arms around him.

“I think she thinks I'm in love with you, my sweet little omega. Do you want me to hold your hand on the way out, just to be sure? Can’t have her thinking otherwise, now can we?” He’s teasing, mostly, but Louis gets a strange sort of look on his face that he can’t decipher, and suddenly they’re holding hands.

They’re holding hands. For real this time, fingers threaded and palms pressed together. Harry can’t think for a moment, brain short-circuiting. It’s such a small thing, really, and yet it is completely earth-shattering.

Until Louis speaks, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Shall we go?” he asks, somewhat nervously.

Harry nods. “Let’s go,” he says, squeezing the small hand in his and guiding them between the tables and past the waitresses station and then out of the doors and into the cold, all while pulling the omega along with him, their bodies close.

He doesn’t let go.

Louis doesn’t question it.

They pause for a moment so Harry can figure out where he parked his car. Louis huddles right up to him, curling his free hand around Harry’s arm and laying his head against his bicep. It’s intimate. But it’s also cold, and Harry is an alpha. A warm alpha. So he can’t think too deeply into the omega’s actions. Still, he enjoys it nonetheless.

Then, Louis stiffens.

“Shit,” the omega hisses under this breath. “Shit, shit, fuck.”

Concerned, Harry looks down at him, the other man’s face now turned almost fully into his arm as if he’s trying to hide from something. 

He doesn’t get a chance to ask what’s happening because suddenly a high-pitched female voice is shouting from across the car park. “Louis!”

Harry turns towards the noise, finding an average height, boisterous looking brunette beta coming their way. She’s grinning from ear to ear and as she gets closer Harry can see the resemblance right away. She’s familiar too, he realises, from his admittedly too-frequent instagram scrolls. 

Louis has stepped away from him, Harry notices as she reaches them. Though their hands are still joined.

“Were you trying to hide from me?” she says, pinning a playful glare upon the omega. 

“Only a little bit,” the omega admits sheepishly. “I didn’t realise it was you until you screeched like that, you know I can’t see that far without my glasses.”

“Hmm.” The woman doesn’t seem to buy it, but lets it go in favour of turning to assess Harry, looking him up and down with far too much excitement. “Wait, is this him? ” she says then, turning back to Louis. “You didn’t tell me he finally got his head out of his arse!” 

Harry coughs awkwardly, confused. He really has no idea what’s going on here, but he isn’t sure if he’s enjoying it or not. Louis likes someone? 

“I—yeah, it’s a long story,” Louis says, chuckling a pained laugh. “I’ve been busy, you know, with work. Harry, this is my sister, Lani. Lani, this is Harry.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry says, nodding his head at the beta who is once again appraising him. He feels as if he’s partaking in a test he never signed up to take. “Louis talks about you all the time.”

It’s what you’re supposed to say in this situation, he thinks. It’s also somewhat true. While he didn’t know her name, or really her face aside from the few pictures he saw when he scrolled back a bit, he has heard Louis talk about her plenty. Including quite a few rants about his stupid sister. He didn’t expect to end up face-to-face with the woman, holding her brother’s hand, outside a Pizza Hut.

“I don’t even want to know what he’s said about me.” Lani laughs. “He’s told me a lot less about you. He’s very vague, you know, just going on and on about this alpha he’s half in love with that won’t give him the time of day. I’m glad you’ve worked it out, he’s a good one.”

“Lani,” Louis hisses. “Shut. Up.” 

“What? There’s no harm in me telling your alpha that you have a crush on him! You seem pretty cosy to me. I think he knows, babe.”

Sensing that Louis might keel over from stress at any moment, Harry ignores the sinking feeling in his gut and steps in, pulling Louis close again and unclasping their hands to slide an arm around his waist. It feels right, he notices. 

“I do love to be flattered,” Harry says as charmingly as he can manage. “And he is a good one. The best, in fact. I’m glad we worked it out too.”

He’s digging a hole here. Fuck.

Lani’s smile somehow widens, her familiar blue eyes lighting up as she looks between them. Harry feels bad for lying to her, even if none of what he is saying is untrue at all. 

“I’m so happy for you, Lou. You’re going to have to tell me all about it at mum’s on sunday.”

“I will,” he says, exasperation packed into the two words. “Are you late for dinner? Meeting a boyfriend? Have literally anywhere else to be?” 

“Shit! Yes, I'm actually running late. I’ll text you later,” she says, diving forward to give Louis a kiss on the cheek that he reciprocates a little begrudgingly. She turns to Harry after, sending him a wink that he isn’t sure of the meaning of. “You’ll have to come with Louis to my thirtieth next week, meet the family.”

“Oh—” Harry starts, only to be interrupted.

“It’s a bit soon for that, really,” Louis cuts in, face red. “They’ll scare him away.”

“Nonsense!” she says. “I insist. You know mum will too. I’ll see you there, Harry.”

And then she’s gone, her heavy perfume lingering in the space she vacated. They’re both quiet for a moment, Harry finally detaching himself from the omega.

The quiet lasts as they break out of their trances and move towards the car, getting comfortable and strapping in. For the first time, the silence is truly awkward. Harry doesn’t know what to say, too busy playing over the conversation in his head over and over again to gather every last crumb of information from it. Louis doesn’t seem eager to talk either, face still flushed. The weird quiet between them lasts until Harry has pulled out of the car park and made his way around the roundabout to the exit that leads towards the address Louis gave him.

When they’re on straight road, Louis speaks up. 

“I’m sorry about that—”

“Who is he?” Harry interrupts, unable to keep it in any longer. “The alpha you have feelings for, you’ve never mentioned him before.”

A strange noise escapes Louis, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “Just…just some guy who works in the shop near my house. It’s not a big deal, really. I barely talk to him.”

It doesn’t make Harry feel any better. It doesn’t make him feel worse, either, which is perhaps a win. It does make him feel like a complete idiot. Of course the omega doing everything he does for Harry is just him being nice. The lunches, the laundry, the sweet little gestures, the four a.m. cupcakes, it’s all just Louis being an absolute sweetheart who would go out of his way for anyone. It isn’t Harry. 

Harry isn’t the alpha he wants. And that’s fine . It’s fine. 

He’ll get over it. They’re friends, they’ve never been anything more than friends. They can continue being friends. He isn’t going to lose Louis over his stupid one-sided feelings.

He takes a deep breath. “So this party?” he says, eyes firmly on the road. “I’ll do it, if you want.”

“What?” Louis says, voice quiet beside him.

“I’ll come to your sister's party. It’s going to look weird if I don’t now, right? Like, she’ll wonder what happened.”

“I guess, yeah. You don’t have to though, I get that it’s weird. Pretending to be my alpha, my boyfriend,” the omega says, not understanding what Harry is just now fully realising for the first time. 

He wants to be that. More than anything. “No, it’s fine, really,” he forces out. “It’ll be fun. We’ve always had fun flirting, haven’t we? It’s hardly a hardship to be all over you for one night.”

Louis laughs, gentle and a little tired. “You wish you could be all over me.”

“Maybe I do,” he says, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to throw the omega a wink, dimples popping with a cheeky smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s dark enough in the car that he’s sure Louis will miss that detail. He hopes so, at least.

The omega smiles, the blush that has been so present throughout the night finding it’s way back onto his face. He doesn’t have any retort this time, which is unusual for Louis. 

Eyes back on the road and away from temptation, the rest of the short drive to Louis’ house is quiet, nothing much left to say. The awkwardness has dissipated, leaving behind a small wall between them that isn’t unscalable but is present , sitting between them like a threat. Harry isn’t sure if he’s the only one that feels it there, or if Louis feels it too and blames it on him somehow. 

When Louis is gone, leaving the car with a wave and a thank you for dinner, Harry spends the long drive home listening to the radio to drown out his many confusing, winding thoughts.

He doesn’t have the time to unpack them now. He might never. He really, really can’t be arsed with it. Not this weekend, at least. This weekend he needs a two day long nap, with no Nialls around to bother him, no bossy uncles around to pile more work on him, and no Louis around to make him feel out of balance. 

Turns out that a two day nap is wishful thinking.

Harry gets Saturday to himself, spending most of it on the settee with his hands down his trousers watching tv. He doesn’t get anything done, or talk to anyone other than a few texts to Louis and one to his mum, or cook for himself once. Not that he ever really cooks for himself anyway, but the two mcdonalds uber eats orders and the pizza he collects from his favourite place round the corner for dinner feel particularly justified after the week he’s had.

He doesn’t tell Louis about the food, lest the omega find some way to turn up at his house with an arm full of tupperware.

Usually, that would sound like a dream, but after the events of Friday night, Harry can’t think of anything worse than being faced with Louis and his wonderful cooking. So he refrains from sending the omega a picture of his array of treats and tries not to think too much about him when he finishes off the last of the cupcakes he had been given. They’re wonderful, of course.

Sunday starts off just as peaceful, with Harry rolling out of bed somewhere near midday and strolling into his spacious, often unused, kitchen to make himself some coffee and grab a bowl of cereal or toast or whatever he lays eyes on first that isn’t stale. 

He’s just settling down in his comfort pit on the sofa, taking a bite out of a pre-packaged pain au chocolate he’d found in the cupboard, when the doorbell rings. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbles to himself, mouth full.

Swallowing the food with considerable grumpiness, he vacates the still-cold spot and makes his way leisurely to the door. The bell goes off again before he even has a chance to reach it, this time going off three times in a row.

It’s a familiar pattern, he realises with a groan.

Harry opens the door to find exactly who he expected. Straight blonde hair down to her shoulders, a runway body, and eyes a shade of green that rival his with a lovely face to match. A lovely face that is currently twisted by the frown she’s giving him.

“You left me on read,” she says, pushing past him and into his house like she owns the place. “You never leave me on read. I thought you might have died in here.”

“Vic,” he says, an exasperated greeting, as he closes the door.

“Smells like you died in here,” she continues, ignoring him in favour of walking through to the kitchen and flicking the still-warm kettle back to life.

Harry follows her, staying in the kitchen doorway to keep his distance from whatever rampage she decides to unleash and watching her as she reaches to grab her usual cup from the cupboard.

Victoria is quite the feisty omega when she wants to be. Harry has been both terrified and in awe of her since they were children, when she would spend half of their school hours trying to rip his hair out and the other half doodling on his arms. They’ve been best friends ever since, only taking a break from their platonic soul bond to date for three months when they were eighteen. The three months had ended with Vic happily confirming that while Harry’s cock is great, she much prefers her alpha’s to be 100% less male. 

Their friendship returned to normal pretty easily after that, made easier by the omega regularly fucking off around the world to model.

Whenever she comes back, Harry finds himself forced into her presence. He doesn’t mind, usually. Unfortunately, he knows that her being here today means that he’s not going to succeed in his don’t think about Louis mission. 

“You fucked that twink yet?” she asks as she grabs the kettle. 

“Which one?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at her when she whips around to glare at him.

“You know which one, dickhead, don’t start,” she huffs. “The one that made you delete all the other pretty twinks in your phone.”

She goes back to making her tea then, shaking her head and muttering to herself. Harry smiles, unable to stop himself. He has a type and that type happens to be annoying, headstrong omega’s who take no shit. 

“There’s women in there too, you know,” he says, feeling a need to defend himself. 

“You’re still deflecting!” Vic sing-songs. “You haven’t fucked him yet because if you had you wouldn’t be moping about on a Sunday, stinking up the place and not answering my messages. You’d still be going at it. So, pray tell.” She turns, leaning back against the counter and holding her steaming mug to her chest, both hands wrapped around it. “What’s going on with you two? Are you still in denial?“

Harry sighs. This isn’t a fight he’s going to win, and Vic isn’t someone he can lie to.

“I’m pretty sure I like him more than I've ever liked anyone, his sister thinks we’re in a relationship and wants me to come to a family party next week, and I think he’s in love with someone else.”

Vic winces. “Shit.”

“Shit indeed,” Harry laughs. “He made me red velvet cupcakes, Vic. I never stood a chance.”

“And you’re going to this party? As his boyfriend?” She looks at him like that’s a terrible idea. He knows it is, he really does, but if Louis asks him to do it then he won’t say no. 

“Yes,” he says. “It will probably be my downfall, but yes.”

“God, you’re down bad.”

The alpha laughs, mostly at the disgusted look on her face as she says it. “I think I am, yeah,” he says.

“We can’t have this. You should come to Paris with me and be my fake boyfriend so I can get off with someone without the gossip rags going on about me being a filthy lesbian, and then while I’m doing that you can take your pick of my hot model friends,” she says it like she’s suddenly realising how great of an idea it is. 

Harry isn’t so convinced. “You know I’m not into models, Vic. Excluding you, of course.”

“I’m not suggesting you bloody marry them,” the omega counters. “You need to get your mind off him, if you really think there’s not a chance in hell of him wanting you back. Which, if you’re asking me, is insane. Like, he makes you lunch every day? Of course he wants your dick.”

“He’s just nice,” he defends.

If looks could kill, Harry would have been dead years ago. He would for sure be dead now, with the way Vic is looking at him. “Do you hear yourself when you speak, Styles?” she asks. “What omega is going around doing wife shit for some random alpha just to be nice? And isn’t doing it for anyone else? I don’t get why you’re so unsure of yourself when it comes to him, you’re the cockiest fucker I’ve ever met.” 

Harry doesn’t know how to explain it himself. He knows he’s hot. He knows that Louis thinks he’s hot. He knows that he could go to a club right now and pull just about anyone he wanted. He knows all that to be true, but he also knows that he’s never gotten any further than that. 

None of his relationships have ever really been relationships. Whether through his fault or theirs, they have always remained surface level until they eventually fizzled out. He’s never come home to someone, or shared his rut with someone, or had someone call him alpha in a way that meant anywhere close to what it does when he hears Louis say it. Nothing he has done has ever meant anything. 

But Louis does all of these things that he’s always wanted to experience in a relationship, and they get along better than he has with just about anyone he’s ever met, and yet, Harry still can’t find a way to explain why it all matters so much. 

Why he can’t imagine that this perfect omega would choose him , over anyone else.

Maybe he should start splashing out on therapy. His mum would love that. 

“He’s too good for me,” is what Harry says to her. Because it’s true, even if there might be more to it his mind hasn’t managed to unravel yet. “I’m just an idiot with a rich uncle and a gym membership.”

“A hot idiot with a rich uncle and a gym membership,” Vic corrects, putting her half-drunk tea down next to the sink. 

Harry shrugs. “There’s that too,” he agrees. 

“And you’re kind , as much as I hate to compliment you any more than I have to. You’re a good man, and one of maybe three alphas that I actually trust, and if you’re right in your assumption that he doesn’t see you in that way then he’s just as much of an idiot as you are.”

“I’ll get over it,” Harry assures her. It’s just a fleeting thing, surely. 

Nevermind that it’s been a year and Harry has never actually had feelings for an omega he hasn’t shagged. 

“You better, or I’m going to have to have a word with this omega.”

Absolutely not, Harry thinks. “That’s a hard no,” he says, the words coming out sharper than he intended. 

Vic smirks, and in that smirk lies the girl who told everyone that he stunk of cheese when they were ten just because she thought it would be funny. The same girl who beat up Harry’s first girlfriend for cheating on him, even though the alpha didn’t really care about her all that much. 

“It’s that or you let me find you someone else,” she says. 

Harry isn’t sure which option is more terrifying.

“Going to this party with him will probably sort me right out,” he offers placatingly. “His family will probably scare me off if spending all night pretending to be the alpha he actually wants doesn’t do the trick.” 

“Your poor ego,” Victoria teases, grinning.

His poor heart, more like. “My poor ego, indeed,” he says instead. 

“Sure you don’t want backup? I could sneak in somehow,” she suggests, looking as if she’s already mentally planning just how she could pull it off.

Laughing, Harry shakes his head. “I’m not sure turning up with Victoria Graves is the kind of impression I want to be making. You haven’t been able to sneak in anywhere in years, especially not some little pub or wherever this party is going to be. I think I’ll do just fine without you.”

“Spoiling my fun,” she huffs. “I’m so fucking bored.”

Sensing an out from this conversation, Harry grins. “Want to smoke weed and play Call of Duty?”  

She eyes him for a moment, a sceptical frown on her face. “You’ve got some?” she asks.

He doesn’t. He never does, mostly because he’s been too lazy to find a new dealer since his last one stopped selling, but also because Victoria always brings it. “No, but you do, right?” he asks. 

The frown drops into a grin. “Of course,” she says, patting the pocket of her denim jacket. “Thought it might be one of those days when you didn’t answer my texts.”

Harry realises then that he hasn’t actually read any of the messages she sent, only opened them to get rid of the annoying little red number and promptly closed them again. He hadn’t really been taking notice of the notifications that didn’t come with the tiny little picture of Louis smiling next to them. Taking his phone out to check, he laughs when he unlocks it to find what he had ignored.

Vic: Back up North for the week, you busy? <3

Vic: Rude

Vic: U dead or popping your knot?

Vic: I’m coming over tomorrow, if ur not dead tell me now. Would be really annoying if you were. Knothead.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he says, still laughing.

“No, you were wallowing. Which is worse than being dead, by the way.”

“Great, thanks… Weed?“

“Go get the Xbox set up, I'll raid your cupboards for food. I’ve been on avocado toast and smoothies for weeks, I need something deadly.”

Her back is turned to him before she finishes her sentence, crouching down to open one of the lower cupboards. There’s nothing in that one. There’s nothing really in any of them, Harry knows, aside from a few cereal bars, half a bag of pasta, some baked beans, and a can or two of mysterious soup in label-less cans. He doesn’t bother telling her that, instead leaving her there to her search so he can set up in peace.

As he’s flicking the Xbox on, another message comes through. This time, from Louis.

Louis: My mum is really excited to meet you. I tried to say you couldn’t make it but I don’t think anyone was even listening to me. It’s still okay, right? I don’t want to pressure you or anything x

Frowning at the distressed tone of the message, he types his reply back quickly.

Harry: I already said I’d do it. It’s really not a problem, Lou. Tell her I’m excited to meet her too. 

Louis is typing before Harry even has a chance to exit the app.

Louis: You’re the best Harry, thank you  x

He’s fucked. Really fucked.

Harry: Anything for you. Now stop worrying, omega.

Vic’s voice sounds from the hallway, floating closer and closer, shouting something about some sweets she found down the side of the fridge. Harry’s phone is locked and out of his hands, safely on the other side of the sofa, far away from him, before she comes into the room brandishing the fruits of her search.

“Ready?” she asks, throwing herself down into the armchair and dumping the food in her lap so she can slip a hand into her pocket to pull out a small silver tin, covered in cartoonish cherries.

“Always,” he says, throwing her one of the controllers before taking his own seat on the sofa, steadfastly ignoring the phone sitting innocently two cushions away.

No Louis Zone. This is a No Louis Zone. Weed and Call of Duty and out of date munchies and Vic’s high giggles. That’s all he needs to think about.

Not the upcoming week in Louis’ presence, leading up to the weekend of pretending he’s the perfect boyfriend, all while wanting to tear his clothes off. He’s not allowed to think about that.

He does anyway, of course.

The next week is almost entirely uneventful. Time moves so quickly that Harry finds himself dreading the way the clock moves, pushing them closer and closer to the weekend.

Weekends are usually sacred. This week, Harry would almost rather be at work. The fear of the party, and pretending to be in love with Louis while very likely actually being in love with him, is extremely present in his mind at all times as the days pass. 

Louis seems off. It’s hard to pinpoint what exactly it is, but something about the omega seems wrong. He’s tired, even beyond the overworked state he is usually in, and the cheerfulness that usually accompanies him even on the bad days seems to have left the building. The smiles he gives are few and far between, though blessedly most of them are saved for Harry. 

Lunch still finds its way into the fridge every day. The notes this week consist of hastily scrawled enjoy! ’s and smiley faces with x’s for eyes. Harry cherishes them as much as he does all the others, slipping them into his desk to be brought out from time to time when he needs a pick me up.

Even though they cross paths often, mostly at the start and end of each day, and nothing seems to be off between them in particular, they don’t really talk much over the week. Harry doesn’t realise that talking to Louis is such an important part of his day until Monday passes with no actual conversation between them. Then Tuesday. Then Wednesday, they manage a quick talk at the start of lunch, where Harry does most of the talking for once, while Louis sits and nods tiredly. Thursday passes with only quick hello ’s and Harry driving Louis to the train station at the end of the day, the car filled with a silence that teeters on the edge of awkwardness. 

Friday is much of the same. It is also different in a completely terrifying way.

Because, Harry realises as he bumps into the omega in the storage room just after lunch, Louis is off his blockers.

“Jesus, Harry,” Louis breathes, having just been scared by Harry’s unannounced entrance into the small box room. “I thought you were Tim,” he says, referring to Harry’s uncle who has, admittedly, been looking for the receptionist.

“Are you hiding?” Harry teases, closing the door behind him and leaving them alone in the dim space. It’s really not a very interesting room, just shelves with various supply-filled boxes sitting on them, and a broken down photocopier shoved into the corner because nobody could be bothered to throw it out. 

Louis is sitting on top of the photocopier, back against the wall. Very much hiding, then.

“A little,” he says. “Are you going to snitch?”

“Never,” Harry answers truthfully with a grin, moving two steps closer and leaning up against the side of Louis’ makeshift seat, back to the wall, their shoulders almost touching. “Cosy in here, isn’t it?” 

He smells it then, the faint smell of something sweet and vanilla, with the slightest hint of chocolate. For a moment, Harry thinks Louis might have been eating in here, until he smells the bitter tinge of sadness within the scent.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Louis asks, turning to frown at an increasingly distressed Harry.

“You’re upset,” Harry says in reply, matching Louis’ frown, nose scrunching as he sniffs the air again.

Louis looks away then, reaching up to tug at his lip. “I’m not,” he says. “You can smell that?” he asks, shooting a nervous glance back at Harry like he hadn’t just looked away from him.

Harry nods. “You smell lovely, you really do, but I can tell something is wrong. Are you going to talk to me about it?”

It’s a testament to how much Harry cares about Louis, that the first smell of his sweet scent isn’t driving him completely wild. It is driving him wild, in the sense that he wants to edge closer and bury his face into the omega’s neck, but the most prevalent feeling he’s feeling right now is concern. 

That concern deepens as Louis’ face crumples, fat tears spilling from his scrunched eyes. “I don’t even know what’s wrong,” he sobs. “I’m just tired and I’m stressed about this party and Zayn has been getting on my nerves about shit lately and I don’t want to be here right now, I want to be at home in the fucking nest I made for no reason. A nest, Harry. I didn’t even think I knew how to make one of those until it was just there and I felt the slightest bit better.”

Harry’s frown deepens. “This sounds a lot like some sort of pre-heat,” he says, as gently as he can. He’s not the best at comfort at the best of times, let alone when the person he might just care about most in the world is crying in front of him. 

Louis shakes his head, almost aggressively. “No, no. It can’t be. It’s just coming off the suppressants, it has to just be that.”

“Louis..,” 

“No, Harry,” the omega says firmly. His teary eyes are open now, staring into Harry’s. “I have to be at this party, and I can’t afford to just be off work right now. It’s not going to be a heat because I said it’s not, okay?”

Assuming that now isn’t the right time to point out that heat leave is paid for, or to question the omega at all in fact, Harry nods. That placates the other man, thankfully, though the tears remain.

“I’m just tired,” Louis says, slumping over and laying his head against Harry’s shoulder. “I’m so tired.”

“We can stay in here until someone comes looking for us, if you want,” Harry offers. There’s no work to do that’s more important than Louis feeling okay. 

“Sounds good to me,” Louis whispers. “You smell good,” he adds, turning his face into Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry is fucked. So, so fucked.

“I can scent you, if you want.” He doesn’t mean to say it. He feels like a fool the second it’s out, especially when he feels Louis stiffen beside him. “Please forget I ever offered that,” he amends quickly, speaking far too fast and far too panicked. 

“I…I would like that, actually,” Louis says, quiet and hushed like a secret into the fabric of his shirt. “But people would notice, and then what would they say?”

“Do you care what they think?” Harry asks. He knows he doesn’t. Everyone in the office already thinks they’re together, or thinks that they should be. 

“Not really,” the omega answers. “Don’t you? I thought—I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or feel like you have to do this just to make me feel better. You’re already doing so much for me with this party, and just being my friend, you don’t have to do things like this to be a good alpha. But it would make me feel better. I mean, like, you smell really good and I feel less shit when you’re around and— ”

“Louis, shut up,” the alpha interjects, a bit concerned but entirely fond. “Do you want me to scent you? Yes or no.”

“Please,” Louis breathes.

That’s all Harry needs to hear. Turning in the small space, he pushes Louis back just slightly so he has room to lean forward and press his face into the omega’s neck, selfishly breathing in the scent he’s been deprived of for their entire friendship. 

The scent, so much stronger here, is so Louis. Sweet and strong and with even just one hit of it, Harry has already forgotten the scent of every other omega he’s been with. He could stay here with his nose pressed into the omega’s skin all day. He would, but he’s already taking liberties allowing himself this, and this isn’t about him at all. It’s about Louis, and Louis’ comfort, and giving the omega something to get him through the rest of the day.

So, with a ridiculous amount of effort, he drags himself away from the addictive scent and focuses his energy on releasing his own. Harry’s never actually intentionally done this before but he finds it comes easily, letting his scent pour out and cover Louis, wrapping his arms around the smaller man in a tight hug as he presses their necks together. 

It’s overwhelming, he quickly realises. For the both of them, if Louis’ small, sweet whimpers are anything to go by. 

When it feels right, they pull apart. Louis has stopped crying, slightly-puffy eyes gazing at Harry. “Thank you,” he says quietly. There’s a smile on his face, a calm peace written into all of his mannerisms. 

Harry is perhaps quite a lot more fucked than he realised, faced with this beautiful man who now smells entirely like him.

“Anything for you,” Harry says truthfully. 

The steady flush on Louis’ face grows deeper. “How am I ever supposed to find an alpha when nobody is going to compare to you?” he asks. Jokingly, Harry assumes. The words set his already unsettled alpha into even more of a frenzy, anyway.

“I thought you already found one,” Harry says with a raised eyebrow. 

Louis laughs, the melodic sound coming out bitter. “Yeah, well, he’s an idiot it seems.” 

“He must be, if he doesn’t want you.” Harry needs to stop talking. He really needs to stop talking, possibly for good.

Louis laughs again. “We should get out of here before we get fired for slacking off.”

Harry can’t even remember what he came in here for. A stapler, maybe? His mind is entirely filled with vanilla and blue eyes. His actual job has been shoved so far into the back of his mind that he’ll be lucky if he gets anything done before the end of the day, but he doesn’t really give a shit at this moment in time.

Louis speaks up again before Harry does. “Fuck, they’re going to think we were shagging in here. Do you think we’ll get in trouble?”

Laughing, Harry shakes his head. “I walked in on Michael from accounts and one of the beta’s from HR having sex in the toilet once, before you started.”

The omega’s nose scrunches up. “Gross.”

“Exactly. And we don’t care what they think, remember? Plus, I’ve only been in here ten minutes. I can assure you that’s not long enough.”

If Louis blushes any more he might actually turn red, Harry thinks. “You could be a two pump chump for all I know, H,” the omega says, dark pink cheeks pushed up in a grin.

“I’m not,” Harry assures. There’s not enough time left in the rest of the day for the things he’d do to Louis if the omega were even the slightest bit interested. But that isn’t something he should be thinking about right now, or he’s going to have a very uncomfortable few hours at his desk.

“Good to know,” Louis says with a wink before sliding off the photocopier. “I’ll leave first.”

Harry nods. “Do you need a lift to the station today?” 

“Oh, no, Zayn’s picking me up because he’s been working at some studio around the corner.”

Fucking Zayn. “Alright,” he says, trying not to sound as unfairly annoyed as he feels. “The party is at seven tomorrow, right?” he asks. Louis nods. “I’ll pick you up at half six. What sort of stuff does your sister like? I can stop and get her something on the way home tonight.” 

“You don’t have to get her anything,” Louis says, but he’s smiling like it means a lot to him that Harry asked, so now he’s definitely doing it.

“Well, I am, so text me a list of the sort of stuff she’d like.” 

“Alright, alright,” Louis concedes with a laugh. “I’ll text you. Thank you, again, for all of this. And the scenting, which is going to be really hard to explain to Zayn.”

Harry fights the urge to grin. “No need to thank me. Now get back to work, Omega.”

“Yes, Alpha ,” Louis says with a mock solute, before leaving Harry to deal with the aftereffects of that.

The amount of fucked that he is only seems to be increasing, he realises as he’s left standing in a storage room with Louis’ scent clouding his mind and an erection he’s trying, and failing, to fight off.

Fuck.

People talk. 

Niall, especially, spends the rest of the day going around telling everyone in the office that Louis smells suspiciously like Harry. Even after Harry gives him the entire story, he only seems more determined to spread the news. 

Harry doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t get the smell of Louis, or the feeling of being so close to him, out of his head for the rest of the day. It torments him while he tries to work, then again when he gives up on that and spends the remaining hour or so sneakily messaging Vic about his woes. The torment persists even as he finishes for the day, hops into his car, and drives farther and farther away from the omega. He almost loses it when he finds himself in a Home Sense trying to find some horrendously expensive candle to wrap up for Louis’ sister, and in his search finds a candle that smells almost exactly like Louis’ scent. 

He buys it. Along with a different candle and an overpriced soap set for Lani.

Then, after he’s come home and made himself a sad dinner and eaten it in front of the TV, he thinks about Louis again as he falls asleep with his new candle sitting on the bedside table. Unlit, but strong enough for the scent to permeate the air of the bedroom.

Harry feels quite pathetic about it all when he wakes up the next morning with morning wood and a headache.

Still, he goes on about his day, only passing the time until he has to get ready for the party.

When that time comes, the alpha is more anxious than he thought he would be. Yesterday changed something for him; pushed him further off the deep end and face first into his unfortunate feelings for the omega. It’s going to be harder than he thought it might be to be around Louis’ family, talking to them and lying to them and trying to act in love with him while also trying not to be so obvious that Louis realises he’s really not that good at acting. If he realises that it might be real for Harry, their friendship is as good as dead.

Not really knowing what to wear to pretend to be your friend’s alpha at his sister’s thirtieth birthday party, Harry ends up going for a pair of very simple black jeans and an expensive white silk button down shirt combo. With enough of the buttons undone to show off the tattoos he rarely gets to show off during the week, of course. 

Grabbing a coat and the badly-wrapped presents on the way out of the door, Harry is off. 

There’s an annoying and unanticipated bit of traffic on the motorway so when Harry finally pulls up outside of Louis’ house, it’s almost fifteen minutes later than when he promised to be there. 

“I’m sorry!” he shouts as he gets out of the car, jogging around to open the passenger door for a somewhat disgruntled Louis. 

A disgruntled Louis who is dressed in skinny jeans and a soft blue jumper that is beautiful but seems far too thin for the cold November air. A disgruntled Louis who is shivering slightly as he hops into the car. 

“You should have waited inside,” Harry says as he gets back behind the wheel. 

“Zayn was pissing me off,” Louis mumbles, taking Harry’s phone from the holder and typing in the address for the pub the party is at. Harry notes pretty quickly that Louis smells like himself again, the faint scent he seems to be in tune with now hitting his nose before he thinks to search for it. He mourns, for a moment, the memory of his own coffee scent covering the omega. “Traffic?” Louis asks, pulling Harry from his thoughts. 

“An accident on the motorway, I think. You look beautiful.”

“You look…hot,” Louis shoots back, locking the phone back into the holder and looking Harry up and down with an appraising glint in his eye. “Are you trying to pull or something?” 

Harry laughs. “I’m a very loyal boyfriend, so no.”

“Good, because if you even so much as sniff near one of my cousins I’ll have your balls.”

“Noted,” Harry replies, fearing for his life a little bit, before starting the car and pulling off. 

They chat casually on the way to the pub, first spending a while laughing about the way their coworkers had reacted to their perceived version of the storage room meeting. Then, Louis gives Harry a run down of everything he’ll need to know to get away with this. Some things he knew already, like that Louis’ mum Beverly is a care assistant and that one of his cousins does ballet. 

Other things are completely new information, like the fact that his Auntie Dot used to be an extra on Eastenders, or the fact that his dad had a whole other family that he had simultaneously with them, and therefore none of them speak to him or about him. Except for Lani, who is way too forgiving, so he will be in attendance but Harry will not engage with him no matter how hard he tries.

It’s a lot to take in, and by the time they pull into the car park attached to the plain-looking pub, Harry’s head is full of little bits of information that he hopes to god he doesn’t mix up. His head is so full, in fact, that he’s barely had time to worry about the actual fake dating part. 

“And whatever you do, don’t bloody ask her about her love life,” Louis finishes his long rant about his sister, reaching for his seatbelt to free himself. “You’ll never get out, she’ll keep you here all night.” 

“You’ve said that three times,” Harry points out. 

“Just making sure it sticks,” he replies very seriously.

“I’ve got it all up here, don’t worry,” Harry promises, pointing to his head. 

Louis only shoots him a doubtful look at that, which is deeply offensive but Harry brushes it off as they get out of the car together. They’re late, by about fifteen minutes, but Louis has assured him that it’s totally fine and there will still be people turning up in an hour or so. The Tomlinsons are habitually late, apparently. Harry wonders why that didn’t pass down to Louis, who is perpetually early for everything.

When they make their way through the back door of the pub and into the reception room, Harry’s hand firmly on the small of Louis’ back, the party is a lot more lively than the alpha expected.

The room, lit by a kaleidoscope of rainbow lights, is thrumming with energy and the bass of a song Harry doesn’t recognise. It’s not ridiculously loud, he can still hear snippets of conversations going on around them, but it’s loud enough. 

Almost immediately upon walking through the doors, they’re spotted by a woman standing next to a balloon arch on the other side of the room. She squeals, slaps the arm of the man standing next to her, and makes a beeline for them before they even have a chance to turn towards the bar or take more than one step into the room. Louis swears under his breath.

“That’s Mum, buckle up,” he says, leaning into Harry.

Harry slips his hand from the omega’s back to his waist, gripping the soft fabric of his jumper and trying hard not to think about the soft flesh he can feel beneath it, and smiles at the woman as she reaches them.

It’s eerily similar to his first meeting with Louis’ sister, right down to the woman’s looks. She’s an omega, he realises quickly, and clearly where both of her children get all of their good looks from. She’s also smiling harder than he thinks he’s ever seen anyone smile.

“Harry! I’m so glad you could make it!” she says, and then she’s hugging him, enveloping him in a pretty floral perfume. Harry lets go of Louis to hug back, awkwardly holding the presents in one hand as he wraps his arms around her.

It’s the kind of mum hug that he cherishes so much with his own.

“I am too,” he says into her ear before they break apart. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Bev,” he adds, knowing from Louis that she prefers familiarity. 

“Oh, you are lovely,” she says, gripping his arms and giving him the once over he expected. She turns to Louis then, grinning. “I believed you when you said he was hot, but bloody hell, Lou.”

Louis is blushing, watching them intently and looking like he might crawl under a table to get away from their interaction. “Mum, please stop, you’re worse than Lani.”

“What? He is! I’m sure he knows he’s a handsome man,” she says, rolling her eyes and turning back to Harry. “This one, honestly, such a drama queen. You’ll come talk to me later, okay? I need to hammer your side of the story out of you, I’ve only heard this one’s gushing. I’ll tell you all about it, of course.”

“Mum.”

“I’ll come find you,” Harry agrees quickly, flashing her an easy grin. 

“Good lad,” she says before taking the presents out of his hand. “I’ll just go pop these on the table for you. So lovely of you to bring something, you’ve got yourself a good one, love.” The last part is directed towards Louis with a wink before she strolls off with the presents in hand.

Harry’s grin hasn’t left his face. 

“Can we leave already?” Louis asks, sidling back up to Harry and plastering himself against his side. “Before my sister sees us.”

Harry laughs, wrapping an arm around him. “Absolutely not, I recall you having multiple breakdowns over how badly you need to be here.” 

“That was before I realised they’re going to run their mouths off to you,” he mumbles grumpily.

“They aren’t going to be talking about me, so what does it matter? I’m not going to judge you for having feelings for someone.”

It is going to hurt like a bitch but he can’t exactly say that. 

“Mm, whatever you say. Go get me a drink,” the omega says, separating himself from the alpha and walking off to speak to someone at a nearby table without actually telling Harry what drink he wants.

Which is helpful.

But Harry is entirely whipped, so he heads to the bar without complaint, trying to ignore the looks he’s getting from all over the room. The bar is blessedly not too busy when he gets up to it, so he doesn’t have to wait long before a barmaid is leaning over to him and asking what he wants.

“Two whiskey and cokes please,” he asks, because this place isn’t the type of place for cocktails or decent beer and he knows that Louis likes whiskey.

The woman nods, turning away from him to start making the drinks. As she’s pouring the coke into the glass, she eyes him up and down. “Did I see you come in with Louis?”

Great. He’s not even safe here. “Yeah,” he says. Simple, and hopefully enough to end the conversation so he can get back to his omega. His omega. Christ, this is problematic.

“He’s a good one,” she says fondly, placing the full glasses in front of Harry. “Treat him right, yeah? Or you’ll have me to deal with, and he’ll tell you all about how scary I can be.”

Unsure of what to say, Harry nods. “I will, definitely,” he manages to get out.

“Good. That’ll be six quid.”

The alpha, growing more concerned by the second about just how much he’s going to have to fight off concerned friends of Louis’, quickly taps his card against the card reader and grabs the drinks, nodding again at the woman before he walks away.

Louis isn’t hard to find. He’s sitting at a cloth-covered table on the outskirts of the dancefloor, chatting animatedly with a woman who Harry can only see the back of. He looks ethereal like this, nodding enthusiastically at whatever the woman is saying, rainbow lights rolling over his body. 

Harry strides right up to him, handing the omega his drink when he turns to him with a grin and planting himself in the chair beside him, grinning at the woman he now realises is Louis’ sister.

“Happy birthday,” he greets, only having to raise his voice a little to be heard over the sound of the music. “You look gorgeous,” he adds with a wink, taking in her form-fitting pink dress. She does look gorgeous, but he only has eyes for one Tomlinson.

The other Tomlinson beside him, who smacks his leg as his sister beams. 

“Such a charmer!” she shouts with a laugh, clearly already a little bit past tipsy. “I was just telling Louis that I thought you wouldn’t turn up.”

“Lani,” Louis says, as if he’s already tired of warning people not to speak. 

“I mean, he didn’t bring Zayn to meet us until long after they’d broken up. We begged and begged him but he always had some silly excuse. I’m glad it’s different with you. We’ve watched him pine over you for so long, it’s so nice to see it happen for him, and to get to meet you properly so soon!”

Louis edges closer and closer to Harry as she talks, looking entirely stressed out. 

His hand finds its way onto Louis’ thigh, gripping tightly in what he hopes is a sign of comfort. “He couldn’t have kept me away,” Harry assures her. “He’s really very important to me, it means a lot to me to meet your family too.” 

“You’ll have to come to Sunday dinner some time. It’s our most sacred tradition,” she confides, lowering her voice slightly. “Normally there’s a minimum relationship length requirement for a boyfriend invite, but I’m pretty sure mum will be offended if you don’t, so.”

“It’s a bit early for that, Lani,” Louis says, now completely leaning against Harry. “We don’t want to scare him away.”

“Nonsense, are you seeing how that man looks at you? Not even grandma could successfully scare him away,” Lani retorts. 

The omega sits forward to look at Harry then, flushing, pinning him to his seat with a raised eyebrow. Harry feels completely caught out at something he hadn’t realised he was doing. Okay, maybe he has been staring at Louis for half of the conversation. Sure, that’s a little weird. But, in his defence, Louis is Louis and it’s hard sometimes, most of the time, to look away. 

“What can I say?” Harry asks, breaking eye contact with Louis for a moment to look at his sister who’s towering over them, watching them with amused interest. “He’s perfect,” he says then, to her. It comes out softer than he intended and perhaps a bit too real.

Lani beams, smug and delighted. “See, Lou!”

The blue-eyed omega groans in defeat, slumping fully into Harry’s side and burying his reddened face into the alpha’s silk shirt. Harry thinks he feels Louis mumble something against it that sounds an awful lot like fucking overkill, Alpha. Harry laughs.

“You two are so cute,” the beta coos, before her head snaps around in the direction of someone calling her name. She turns back to them, casting a fond glance to where Louis is still hiding his face. “I need to go mingle but I’ll be back to torment you later, I promise. It’s my job as a big sister. Thank you for coming, Harry, really.” 

“No need to thank me,” he says, moving his hand from Louis’ thigh to grip the frame of the chair and pull Louis closer to him, concerned about the way the omega is leaning across the admittedly short space between them. “Anything for this one,” he adds, wrapping his arm around Louis. 

If he’s going to oversell it, he may as well really oversell it. 

Lani leaves them be, clip-clopping away in her high heels with a bright, somewhat relieved, smile on her face. Louis finally moves then, lifting his face to check she’s really gone. He doesn’t physically distance himself from Harry at all, which the alpha will gladly take as a win. 

“You’re absolutely not coming to Sunday dinner,” he says, close enough to talk softly and still be heard.

Harry feigns offence. “Oh, so you hate me? Am I not a good alpha to you?”

“Shut up.” Louis laughs. “You don’t want to come, trust me. The food is great but my family, around a dinner table, without the blissful distraction of loud music and alcohol? Absolutely not.”

“You’re really selling it to me, actually, I think I’ll come tomorrow,” Harry teases, unable to hide his laughter when Louis shudders in horror at the thought. 

“I’m not even going tomorrow. You can’t pay me to be in the same room as Lani with a hangover.”

“What about you with a hangover?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and taking a swig of his forgotten drink. 

Louis does the same, a little pleased smile on his face when he tastes it. “Oh, I’m not getting drunk tonight. A little buzz is fine, but I need to be on my A-game. You too, Alpha.”

Harry might not survive Louis calling him alpha while tucked under his arm in a room full of people. He might not survive being this close to Louis in general, not when the omega is looking at him like that.

“I’ll drink coke all night after this. Pinky promise,” he offers, putting his glass down on the table and sticking his pinky out. 

The omega rolls his eyes, but there’s only fond amusement in the twitch of his lips as he links their pinkies. “You can’t break a pinky promise, you know?”

“I’m well aware, my sweet omega. I’ve made plenty, and never broken one.”

“Mm,” Louis hums, a distrustful little noise, finally unlinking their fingers, eyes darting to somewhere else, worried. “We’ll see.”

Harry wants to kiss him. To kiss away the little scrunch of his nose, to take his mind off whatever is worrying him so much, to stop him from looking around the room anxiously, waiting for someone to come up to them. But, even though they’re doing this, pretending to be together, he can’t just kiss him without warning. As much as he wants to.

So, to soothe his agitated alpha that just wants to reach out and comfort the omega, he presses a kiss to his cheek instead; soft but lingering.

“Do you want to go outside?” he asks, quietly, pressing another quick kiss to his temple. 

Louis shakes his head, almost headbutting Harry in the process. “No, not yet. I’m okay, really, I just had a thought I didn’t like, and it seems mum is after you anyway,” he says, gesturing across the room with a soft tilt of his head.

Harry follows his gaze, making direct eye contact with Bev who is waving for him to come over. “Shit,” he hisses. “You coming?”

The omega laughs. “Nope, this is all on you, big boy. I do not care to hear any of the embarrassing shit she’s going to say about me. Which is all lies, of course.”

“Of course,” Harry agrees, pressing another kiss to his cheek before getting up, already feeling bereft. “You owe me for this, by the way. Sending me off to do this alone.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you want. Just go quickly before she drags one of the aunties over here and we’re trapped for the night,” Louis says, shooing him off with a grin and pink cheeks.

So Harry goes, feeling a lot like he’s walking to his doom as he crosses the dancefloor and approaches the table Louis’ mum has set herself up on. There are others there, two women who look older than her but vaguely alike, and a younger girl who must be Louis’ other sister, Leah, who is fifteen and looks like she really doesn’t want to be here at all if the way she’s staring at her phone is anything to go by.

The other three women are staring at him with big, deeply intimidating, grins on their faces. 

“Harry!” Bev greets, taking his hand and pulling him into the chair beside her. “These are my sisters, Jane and Karen. I’ve just been telling them all about you and Louis. And that’s Leah, but don’t bother talking to her, you’ll get no sense out of her while she’s on that thing.”

Harry laughs good-naturedly, hoping and praying that he doesn’t look as intimidated as he feels. Businessmen, he can deal with. Hot omegas throwing themselves at him? Easy. Victoria’s very famous friends? Maybe a bit of a tremble. Louis’ family? Completely terrifying, it seems. 

Still, he reaches out his thankfully still hand to shake the hands of both of the aunties, giving a small wave to Leah who looks up from her phone to give him a mildly interested smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you all,” he says politely, beaming his usual winning smile. “My lovely boyfriend sent me over here to face you alone.”

“Very rude of him,” one of the aunties, Harry thinks it’s Karen, says lightheartedly as the others laugh.

“Very,” Harry agrees, smiling. “But he’s wonderful, so I can’t be too mad at him.”

Bev pipes up, watching him carefully. “You seem very in love,” she says, and Harry might just die. “Is it too soon to say that? For me, it’s always been a case of when you know, you know. I get the feeling that you know. Louis certainly does, if you ask me.”

Choking back the reminder that Louis is in love with someone else, someone who isn’t him, Harry tries to remain cheerful and shrugs. “I think so, yeah. He’s…I don’t think there’s enough time for me to list all of the things I like about him. If that’s love, then yeah, I’m in deep.” 

The truth is a good answer. All of the women coo as if he’s just written a sonnet for the omega, and not just blurted out some barely-formed sentence. Bev looks like she might cry, actually, eyes filled with emotion. Great, that’s all he needs. He’s bloody awful with tears.

“You said Louis feels the same?” he asks quickly, deciding that maybe listening to all of Louis’ feelings for another alpha would actually be less painful than answering questions himself.

Bev nods enthusiastically. “Oh, definitely. He’s held his cards close to his chest when it comes to talking about you, but it’s clear as day. Always going on about stupid jawline this and perfect eyes that. Talking about how kind you are, and how he’s never felt like that around other alphas this quickly, even with Zayn they were friends for a long time before anything happened. It always hurt me, hearing him say that you didn’t feel the same. I can’t even tell you how happy I was when Lani told me she’d bumped into you two, and then his face when you walked in together? God, the way you two look at each other is sickening. I saw it from across the room. It’s wonderful. It’s rare. I never got it, Lani never got it. I’m glad Louis has, he deserves it the most.” 

Oh. Oh. He doesn’t really know what to feel about any of that. Louis wants someone else, he knows that. Louis feels more comfortable with that alpha than he has with anyone else before. Even though he told Harry that they hardly fucking speak. So that hurts, quite a bit. But Louis looks at him in a certain way? Surely that’s just his mum seeing what she wants to see from her son. Confirmation bias, or whatever.

So Harry is fucked. And he wants nothing more than to leave right now. But Louis is his friend . His best friend, really, if Victoria doesn’t count, which she doesn’t really because she’s just a part of him. 

He can’t go back on this, not when it would make Louis look like a fool. Not when he can’t explain why without fucking it all up anyway. 

“He does,” Harry replies, softly. It’s the only part of what she said that feels safe to answer. “He deserves the world.” 

“You’ll make lovely pups, too,” the other woman, Jane, throws out there. 

“Oh, yes!” Karen screeches. “So gorgeous, right, Bev? You’ve been waiting for grandbabies.”

Harry is speechless.

“Doesn’t every mum want grandbabies?” Bev asks, laughing. “Louis has always gone on about how excited he is for babies, I think he’s more ready than I am if I’m being honest. Are you fond of the idea of a big family yourself, Harry?”

“Oh, uh…yes? I hadn’t ever really found anyone I could imagine having children with, until Louis. I’ve always been ready, though. I put all of my money away for the future, for them,” Harry says truthfully. He’s aware that it sounds like the perfect answer for your ‘boyfriend’s’ mum, but it’s true. The dream of a big house and a beautiful omega and an army of children has always lingered at the back of his mind, even when he was younger and didn’t realise what he was waiting for. 

The thought of that with Louis is just too much to think about right now. 

“That’s good, that’s good,” Bev says. “Very sensible. I can see why you work so well together.”

Harry nods awkwardly, breathing a sigh of relief when someone comes over to talk to Bev, effectively cutting the conversation short.

After that, he ends up passed from person to person for the next hour or so. 

First, another auntie corners him while he’s trying to find Louis and ends up talking his ear off for ten minutes about something he doesn’t quite understand, the only bits he manages to get are something about the buffet. 

Then, whilst he tries to grab something to eat at said buffet, Louis’ sister talks to him for god knows how long, going on and on about her failed dating life for so long that a small queue forms behind them, hands reaching around them to grab at the sausage rolls. Harry frees himself eventually, giving Lani a hug and running off to shovel the food down. Of course, while doing that, three more people pass him by and just have to have a conversation with him about how lovely Louis is. As if he doesn’t know that. As if it isn’t all he thinks about.

He sees Louis in flashes, catching glimpses of him from across the room, being passed around in a similar fashion.

Harry’s worst and final run in before he makes his way back to his omega is with the omega’s father. The man—an average sized, generally not very intimidating alpha—comes up to him not long after he’s freed himself from yet another conversation with someone he doesn’t know.

“Harry, right?” the man asks, clasping Harry on the shoulder in a far too familiar greeting.

Harry, unsure of who the man is but not wanting to be rude, nods. “That’s me,” he says politely. 

“Thought so. Thought I better introduce myself to the man who’s seeing my son,” the man says, and oh fuck, Harry thinks. He isn’t supposed to speak to him. “Charles,” he introduces himself, putting a hand out for Harry to shake.

Harry takes it, shaking with a firm grip before letting go a second too quickly. “I actually have to—“

“Not that the ungrateful little fuck tells me anything.”

The sudden change in tone is both dizzying and enraging. Harry’s jaw is tensed, along with his fist. “Excuse me?“ he asks through gritted teeth. Waterloo by ABBA is playing, drowning out their conversation to anyone who walks by.

Charles folds his arms in a weak attempt to look bigger in response to Harry’s evident anger. It’s hilarious, and not at all effective. “I mean, I have to hear he’s found his future mate from his sister? He should know to have more respect for alphas. Not that I’m surprised, the way his mother raised him.”

Harry might just hit him. It crosses his mind and almost sticks there, the image of snapping the fucker’s nose. But that might just lose him favour with Lani, and subsequently Bev, and then Louis, which he can’t quite fathom. So instead he takes a deep breath and a step back, loosening his fist.

“Louis is the best omega I know,” Harry says as calmly as possible, the slightest growl slipping into the words. “Bev has done a wonderful job raising him in your absence, and any lack you find is entirely due to your own backwards views and complete overinflated sense of importance in his life. He owes you nothing, and I won’t let you speak ill of him in my presence again, so fuck right off and be thankful that I care more about him than I do about busting your lip open.” 

It’s satisfying, the way the older man shrinks back. It’s not often Harry gets to be angry, to show his real power. It feels good to use it to knock the weaker alpha down a peg or two. Especially in Louis’ honour.

Harry walks away before the man has a chance to speak, just in case he says something that actually makes him lose his patience.

By some magnificent stroke of luck, he finds Louis then, standing on the edge of the dance floor taking the last swig of the first drink Harry bought him at the start of the night. Harry watches him put the glass down on a nearby table, the omega smiling to himself as he hears the first notes of the next song. A slower song that Harry only vaguely recognises.

There’s no real thought behind what he’s doing as he walks around the room to come up behind the omega, mind only really focused on getting to touch him, to get rid of the build up of anger just by being in Louis’ presence. He slips his arm around the omega’s waist, hand splayed against his stomach. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” Harry asks into the skin of his neck, allowing himself one quick hit of the deep vanilla scent. 

It says a lot about their bond that Louis doesn’t flinch at all, knowing it’s Harry before the alpha even speaks. He makes a sweet contented sound, leaning back into the alpha’s hold. “I wouldn’t say I was avoiding you,” Louis answers. “More just everyone else, who happened to be bothering you. Did it go well?”

Swaying them slightly to the music and wrapping his other arm around the omega, Harry hums. “I’m not sure what well really means. Your aunties seem to like me, your sister told me all about her dating woes, and I almost punched your dad,” he confesses.

“Only almost?” 

He doesn’t sound mad. Which is good.

“Figured I better not ruin the party. Wouldn’t make a very good impression.”

Louis laughs. “Did you at least scare him a little?“

Harry grins, pressing a quick kiss to the omega’s neck because he can’t help it and because it’s all a part of the game. “A little,” he confirms. “Want to dance with me?” 

“If you insist,” Louis agrees with a heaving, put-upon sigh, before taking Harry’s hands from his stomach and leading them to the almost empty dance floor. 

It’s just them, another couple, and two of Lani’s friends who seem a few drinks too far gone. It doesn’t cross his mind to look around the room and see who’s watching them. Because this isn’t to sell anything, it’s just him, wanting to dance with Louis while he has the chance. And because it’s hard to think of anything when Louis is turning to face him and reaching up to hook his hands behind his neck.

Harry’s hands find the omega’s waist again quickly, pulling him closer. They don’t make any real effort to dance, just sway together. 

“So, it hasn’t been too bad?“ Louis asks after a moment, his face way too close, looking up at Harry with a small, quiet smile.

Harry shakes his head. “Not at all. I really like your family, they’ve been really nice, if a little chatty.”

“See where I get it from?” 

“Oh, definitely,” Harry agrees, grinning. “You can’t make me out to be a bad guy when we fake break up. I have an open invite to tea with all the aunties and I can’t disappoint them.” 

Louis’ smile turns unbearably fond, cute little scrunches forming by the corners of his eyes. “Oh, they really love you,” the omega tells him. “They don’t invite just anyone to tea.”

Harry had figured as much, but the news makes him glow all the same. “They’re going to be so disappointed. You won’t believe how many times I’ve been asked if I’m going to mark you and knock you up.”

Flushing, Louis ducks his head in embarrassment for a moment before looking back up at Harry, pretty and pink. “I am so sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be,” Harry says quickly, not wanting him to sit in the embarrassment any longer. “It’s not a terrible image,” he adds, like a fool, and then he can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. “You’d look beautiful, you know?”

Louis raises an eyebrow, the blush staying firmly in place atop his high cheekbones. “Marked or full of pups?”

“Either. Both. Just, as you are now. You’re always beautiful,” Harry says, as if he needs to say it at all. He tells Louis he’s gorgeous on a daily basis. “But, if this is a safe space to say things we probably shouldn’t say…”

“It can be,” Louis says quickly, breath hitching. They’re still swaying softly, pressed close together. “It is.”

“Then I’ll say that it does things to me, thinking of you like that,” Harry admits. Stupidly, perhaps. 

“Oh,” Louis breathes. 

“You don’t have to say anything to that. You don’t have to say anything at all,” the alpha promises. 

The omega is quiet for a moment, watching Harry with an unreadable glint in his eye and an adorable frown on his face, head cocked to the side just slightly. Harry can’t tell if he’s imagining the vanilla scent becoming stronger; if it’s just wishful thinking or not.

“Tell me,” Louis says then, frown disappearing and a smug, slightly nervous look taking over his face. 

“Tell you?” Harry asks, his turn to frown.

“Tell me that you want me,” Louis elaborates. “You do, don’t you? I’m yours right now, as far as all these people know. Maybe I can be yours tonight, if that’s what you want.”

“Louis,” Harry warns, taking a deep, steadying breath, his grip on the omega’s waist tightening a little. “Don’t tease me right now if you don’t mean it.” 

Louis smirks, and Harry might just die right here if the omega keeps looking at him like that, in a room full of fucking people, knowing that he can’t do anything about it. “Tell me,” the omega says again, more confident this time. “Please, Alpha.”

And if Harry is damned, he may as well condemn himself further. He can’t say no to the omega; has never been able to. 

“Of course I want you,” Harry says. “I wanted you the second you got in my car. I wanted you in the storage room yesterday, would have had you if you’d have let me. I want you all the fucking time, have you seen yourself, Louis? I’d crawl through hell to have you on my knot.” 

The omega falters at that, only for a moment, seeming genuinely shocked by the answer. He recovers quickly, but not quick enough for Harry to miss it, and the smirk is firmly back on his face in no time. 

“Have me, then,” he offers, as if he’s not ruining Harry’s self-restraint more and more minute by minute. 

Harry can’t forget himself just yet. “What about the alpha you like?” he asks, because he isn’t supposed to be here. He can’t take Louis’ offer if he’s only a stand in, even if it is just for the night. 

Louis shrugs. “Make me forget about him.” 

“Louis,” Harry says again, another warning, almost growled this time. 

“I mean it,” Louis promises. “I don’t care about him right now. I want you. I want you to ruin me, please. It’s been so long since anyone has.”

Harry can deal with that. He can’t, in the sense that it’s absolutely going to destroy him after, to have the omega for one night and then have to pretend to just be his friend in the aftermath. But he can, in the sense that this isn’t just about Louis wanting to pretend he’s someone else. Louis wants him tonight, he can feel that in the way the omega is trying to press closer even though they are already impossibly close. He can smell it in the scent that is unmistakably lingering around them now, Harry completely in tune with it and almost going dizzy with how heady it is.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, nodding more to himself than to Louis. “Okay. I’ll ruin you, sweet omega.” 

The alpha seals the promise with a kiss to his flaming cheek, then another, then another closer to his ear so he can whisper into it. “But we can’t leave yet, it’s too early. Do you think you can be good for me, and wait another hour?”

The soft little whimper Louis lets out might just ruin him before he has the chance to even touch him. “Yes,” the omega promises. “I can. I hate you, though.”

Harry laughs, pressing another kiss to the heated skin before pulling away before he takes it too far and loses all of his rapidly diminishing restraint. “Go clean yourself up, Omega. I’ll get you another drink.”

“I really hate you,” Louis reiterates, not making any move to leave. “I don’t even get a kiss?” 

The omega is pouting. Harry is tempted. Really, really tempted. “If I kiss you now, we’ll have to leave,” he says, tapping Louis’ puckered lips. “So, no. Later, I promise.” 

Louis huffs. “Okay, but if you don’t keep that promise I’m never making you lunch again. Also, I hate you.”

“Mm, of course.”

“I do,” the omega lies again, and then he’s leaning up and pressing a kiss of his own to Harry’s cheek, dangerously close to his mouth, before he removes himself from the alpha’s hold, walking away and leaving Harry hoping that he makes it through the next hour without breaking.

It’s going to be hard. Really, really hard.

Harry was right. It’s torture. 

The hour and three minutes between Louis walking away from him and them finally leaving is the most torturous thing Harry has experienced in his twenty-eight years of life. Mostly because it seems that Louis, now armed with the knowledge that the alpha wants him, is a complete fucking tease.

Every moment they spend apart, Louis is doing something to rile him up. When Harry stands by the bar speaking to one of Louis’ cousins, the omega is across the room, flirting with some beefy beta man. When Harry is trying to have a conversation about what he does for a living with Bev, Louis just so happens to be doing incredibly indecent things to a straw in his peripheral vision. 

Every moment they spend together is worse. Quick, lingering kisses that never reach the mouth and flirty little smiles and Louis’ thick, mouth-watering scent swirling around him. It’s too much to bear. His thinly held patience is slipping away more and more with each passing moment and he’s just not used to waiting.

With everyone else, when he wants something he’ll have it then and there. 

With Louis, he’s waited over a year already. A year of complete and utter torture, and now that he’s close enough to taste, even an hour is too much. A minute would have been too long to wait, so why did he suggest staying a little longer? It’s hard to remember when all he can think about is his half-hard cock and Louis’ sweet scent.

Finally, when enough time has passed and the party, though still in full swing, is nearing its end, Louis comes up to him, looking a little frantic.

“Out, now,” he says, taking Harry’s half-drunk coke out of his hand and slamming it down on the nearest flat surface. 

“Right now? We haven’t even said—”

“Harry, if you don’t take me home right now I’m going home with that beta and letting him fuck me with a knotting dildo,” Louis cuts in, deadly serious, arms folded and glaring at the alpha. 

It’s endearing. And very convincing. “Okay, okay,” Harry placates, holding his hands up. “I’ll take you home.” 

They get stopped once on the way out of the pub by a very intoxicated Lani who spends five minutes half-rambling, half-crying at Louis about how happy she is for him. Harry leaves them there to grab his coat from the coat rack, coming back just as Louis is finally dragging himself away.

She’s plastered to him, mumbling drunkenly in his ear and rocking them slightly. Harry stands back, not very well practiced at dealing with drunk women and not at all interested in getting sucked into whatever is going on here.

“I know, I know, and I love you a lot, okay? Please drink water before you sleep and don’t call me in the morning because I won’t answer,” he’s telling her, hugging her tightly. “Me and Harry really need to leave now, why don’t you go find mum? I think she’s started clearing up the buffet.”

Lani mumbles something else that makes Louis laugh before peeling herself from the omega and stumbling off with a very badly aimed wave in Harry’s general direction. Louis practically runs to Harry once she’s gone, snatching the coat out of his hands and slipping it on.

It is, of course, too big. And Harry was going to make him put it on anyway, so he just grins. 

“Looks good on you,” he says, his alpha and his cock both far too interested in the prospect of the omega in his clothes. 

“Shut up,” Louis throws back, blushing, before grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him out of the pub doors. 

The November air is crisp. Even Harry, with his hot blood and impeccable tolerance for lower temperatures, has to suppress the urge to shiver when the cold air hits him. Louis keeps dragging them along towards the jeep, refusing to let go of the alpha and using his other hand to hold the coat closed around himself. 

Unlocking the car with a quick press of a button, Harry overtakes Louis so that he can open the passenger door for him. 

Louis seems to have no intention of getting in, instead leaning against the car and looking at Harry expectantly.

“Get in,” Harry says, still holding the door. 

“Only if you kiss me first,” Louis counters.

Harry sighs. “Omega,” he warns. “It’s cold, get in.”

“Alpha,” the omega shoots back. “Kiss me.”

And maybe Harry is a weak man, but he’s waited so long to hear those words that the last thread of his patience snaps. Surging forward, he presses himself against the omega, bodies aligning perfectly. The pleased smile he gets gifted with is going to be his downfall, he’s sure of it.

It’s painful how much he wants to take Louis against his precious car, in a poorly lit car park, just steps away from a building full of Louis’ family.

“Do you know how hard it’s going to be, driving with you sitting next to me, smelling like that?” he asks, forehead almost pressed against Louis’ but not quite. “You’re so wet already and I haven’t even touched you, are you sure you can handle a kiss? I’m not sure you can.”

Louis whines, tilting his chin up so their lips ghost against each other. “Please,” he whispers. “I’ll do anything.”

It’s dizzying, how quickly he can get Louis to beg for him. The only way Harry is  going to make it out of this alive is if he’s in complete control. 

Hands coming up to cradle the omega’s face so that he can’t make any moves Harry doesn’t approve of, the alpha shakes his head. “I don’t think you would do anything, sweet omega,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “Would you get on your knees right here? Ruin your jeans for me? Would you let me take you in the car, where anyone could walk past and see you begging for my knot?”

“Yes,” Louis breathes without hesitation, pupils blown and chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Christ. Harry is done for. 

“I don’t think you would.” Harry hums, contemplative. “I think you can wait for a kiss.” 

“No,” Louis gasps out. “Please, Alpha. Just one. Just one, please.”

Harry breaks, giving the omega what he wants. It’s not sweet at all, it’s a desperate and frenzied clash of lips and tongues and teeth and Louis’ whining moans breathed into his mouth. It’s hot, one kiss and it’s somehow hotter than anything else he’s ever experienced, Louis’ sweet little noises already doing more for him than any omega who has ever screamed on his knot. 

The vanilla scent only grows stronger, Louis’ arousal so loud that Harry can’t think clearly. 

Pulling back, trying very hard to ignore the way Louis whines at the loss, Harry takes a deep breath. “Is Zayn home?” he asks, knowing that no matter the answer he intends to follow through with his promise.

“No,” Louis answers. “He’s at some night shoot or something, I don’t know, but he won’t be home until the early morning.” It takes him a while to get the words out, breathing uneven and gaze focused on Harry’s mouth.

“Get in the car.”

Louis groans but doesn’t protest this time, slipping out of Harry’s hold and into the car. Harry follows suit, body on autopilot while his brain whirrs with wild thoughts. Like how can this be real, and how can he go back to normal after it.

He starts the car and pulls out of the car park without really thinking about it. Louis is quiet beside him, fiddling with the buttons of Harry’s coat. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” Harry asks, concerned that maybe the omega is changing his mind. Not that he would blame him, of course, but he’d rather know than accidentally make him uncomfortable in any way.

Louis lets out a soft chuckle. “I’m actually just trying very hard not to grope you while you drive,” he answers. “It’s more difficult than I thought it would be.”

“Oh,” Harry says, relieved. 

“I had a dream about this once, actually,” Louis confesses. “You were driving me home from work and you pulled into a lay-by so I could suck you off.”

Harry’s white knuckle death grip on the steering wheel might not be enough to save them from a crash if Louis keeps putting more images like that into his already frazzled head. 

“Sorry if that’s weird, dreaming about you,” Louis continues, word vomiting. “It’s just that you’re hot, you know? And you obviously think the same about me or we wouldn’t be driving to my house to fuck, so I don’t know why I’m so worried, but I don’t want you to think I’m some freak who just—”

“I’ve had dreams about you, too,” Harry interjects, not wanting the omega to suffer any further. 

“Oh,” Louis says. “Good, that’s good.”

“You’re nervous,” Harry states. It’s obvious, now that his head is the slightest bit clearer. 

Louis laughs, the nervous edge apparent. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I’m not very experienced. Not as experienced as you, anyway,” the omega admits. “I want this, I really want this, but I don’t want to disappoint you at all.”

“That’s not possible. I’ve been hard for the past hour, Louis. Even just kissing you would be enough for me, if you wanted to stop now.”

“I don’t want to stop, not at all,” Louis says quickly. “In fact, I think I might die if you don’t fuck me.”

Harry can’t pretend he isn’t relieved about that. “So was I big, in your dreams?” he asks, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to flash the omega a cheeky grin.

“I choked on it,” Louis says flatly. “Now shut up and drive. You can afford a speeding ticket, right?”

“For you? Definitely.”

Harry does speed. Just a little bit.

He’s still hard and slightly out of it with lust when they pull up outside Louis’ house, and they’re both out of the car and in the front door so fast that he can’t be sure if he even locked his car.

Harry doesn’t get much of a chance to look around because Louis is dumping the alpha’s coat on the hallway floor and dragging him up the stairs seconds after the door is locked and their shoes are kicked off. He does get a very brief look at the landing as they pass by two other rooms and the bathroom before they’re tumbling into Louis’ room. 

Louis’ room is exactly as he expected it to look. Warm and cosy. White walls and very soft looking purple sheets on the double bed that sits against the wall, framed by fairy lights. The nest that Louis mentioned making is nowhere to be seen. Cleared up, or elsewhere. There’s not much of a chance to look any deeper because Louis is on him the second the door is closed, undoing his shirt buttons with frenzied fingers.

“You are so fucking annoying,” he’s saying, staring at Harry’s chest. “Who looks this good? Half my cousins wanted to jump you.”

“I know,” Harry replies, grinning, helping Louis pull the shirt out of his jeans. 

“Annoying,” Louis repeats, eyes firmly glued on Harry’s chest still, mapping out the tattoos. “I didn’t know you had all of these…”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Harry should move to progress this further. It’s hard, though, with Louis right in front of him, breathtakingly beautiful and so focused on him. Those blue eyes finally drag away from his inked skin and look into his, open and honest. 

“Can I have another kiss?“ the omega asks, so sweetly.

Harry nods, pulling Louis closer and kissing him for a second time. It’s calmer this time, less urgent but still saturated with desperation. His or Louis’, he can’t tell. Both, he thinks. The omega’s hands are trailing over Harry’s abs, light and tentative. Harry thinks he might die already.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to heat up, growing more and more urgent, until Harry pulls back to pull the omega’s jumper off, unable to go another second being deprived of his skin. 

Louis is…perfect. Pretty, pale skin that Harry knows turns to pure gold in the summer, unmarked and impossibly soft. Small, hard, pink nipples that Harry wants his mouth on more than he wants to breathe air. Harry wants everything; to kiss along his neck to his sharp collarbones, to kiss further and further down, over his pretty nipples and to the soft swell of his stomach. He could spend hours mapping out Louis’ body and it wouldn’t be enough. He wants to take a picture in his mind and never lose it, if this is his one chance to see him like this. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, more to himself than to Louis, but the omega frowns anyway, tilting his head to the side.

“What?” 

Harry grins. “You’re perfect,” he says, voice still hushed.

He’s no poet, but he could write a million sonnets about the way Louis blushes whenever Harry compliments him. “Shut up,” the omega says. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Shaking his head, Harry drops to his knees. “Not at all,” he speaks into the skin of Louis’ stomach, pressing soft kisses there, hands gripping his hips. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Undressing you,” Harry answers, pressing another kiss to the top of his hip bone as he works at the clasp of his jeans. Louis makes an anxious sound that he doesn’t quite understand until he manages to get the zip down and sees black lace trim peeking out from underneath the denim. 

Harry is going to die. That’s all he can think as he rushes to drag the jeans down Louis’ thighs and off his body completely so that he can see what’s underneath. Soon enough he’s faced with an image he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget; Louis, in black lacy underwear with a tiny pink bow, standing in front of him. Louis’ thighs, too, close enough to touch, to run his tongue along. 

“Do you wear these all the time?” he asks, running his fingers along the edge of the fabric. Part of him hopes that the answer is no, just so he doesn’t have to face the omega at work and know what lies beneath. 

“No, I—” Louis starts, breaking off with a whimper when Harry’s hand brushes against his already leaking prick, the fabric wet against the tip. “They make me feel good, hot, and I thought you might…”

Christ. “These are for me?“ Harry asks, fingers edging around to the back where he knows he’ll find more wetness. “Such a good omega, making yourself all pretty for me.”

“Harry,” Louis whines. “If you’re trying to kill me you’re doing a great job of it.”

Harry laughs into the skin of Louis’ stomach, pressing another kiss there before he stands up, pulling the omega against him again. “There are too many things I want to do to you for you to go and die on me now, gorgeous,” he says, bringing their lips together for a few quick kisses. 

“Maybe you should do them then,” Louis retorts, smiling against Harry’s mouth. 

“Patience.”

“I have that beta’s number,” Louis says, pulling back just slightly to level the alpha with a very serious look. “I’ll call him. I will.”

Unphased, Harry smirks. “And have him do what?” he asks, sneaking a hand around Louis’ back and slipping it beneath the lace. “He can’t give you the knot you crave, can he?”

Louis is wet. So wet that there’s no resistance when Harry slips a finger past the rim of his hole, the slick almost begging him to touch, to fuck. Whining, the omega shakes his head. “Alpha, please.”

“Please what? You just told me you could go find someone else. Someone less, who can’t please you how you need. And now you’re begging me for more?”

“Please fuck me already,” Louis begs. 

Harry shakes his head, humming thoughtfully. “Not yet. Not until you tell me you don’t need anyone else,” he says, pressing the finger in deeper. “Not that beta, not your other alpha. It’s me you want tonight, so tell me.”

“I only want you,” the omega whines. “Not the beta, not any other alpha. I just need you to fuck me, please.”

The alpha might be harder than he’s ever been, hearing that. As a reward, he slips another finger in, marvelling at how snug it is with just two fingers, even as wet as the omega is. 

“Good, Omega,” Harry praises. Grinning, he slips the fingers out once more—ignoring the omega’s protest—and lifts Louis to throw him onto the bed with some level of care and quite a bit of urgency. 

Louis, despite his initial annoyance at the absence of Harry’s touch, takes to his new position easily, settling himself among the sheets and looking at Harry expectantly. The alpha, standing at the foot of the bed, still completely dressed other than his shirt completely unbuttoned, doesn’t move for a moment; too busy in his own head, wondering how the fuck he ended up here, about to fuck his best friend. 

His best friend who he suddenly really fucking wants to bite and claim and mate, which might turn out to be a problem. 

“You really are perfect, you know?” Harry says again, mostly to distract himself from saying anything too much.  

Louis’ blush travels down his chest. Harry could do without knowing that information. 

“Get a move on,” Louis answers, deflecting as always. 

The alpha complies, finally ridding himself of his shirt and tossing it onto the floor without much thought. Then, with hungry blue eyes tracking the movement, he works at his jeans, groaning as he brushes his very neglected erection in the process. Louis’ gaze doesn’t leave his crotch once as he finally gets his jeans and boxers off in one go, which would be horrifying if Harry were less of a cocky wanker, but his smugness is justified by the stunned widening of the omega’s eyes.

“Niall owes me a tenner,” Louis breathes, not quite what Harry was expecting to hear.

“Excuse me?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Louis flushes, flustered, but smiles smugly anyway as he explains. “Niall said that there’s no way you’re actually big, he reckoned that you must be overcompensating with all that cockiness.”

Stunned, Harry laughs. “I admire your faith in my dick size,” he says, finally joining Louis on the bed, holding himself above the omega and giving him a quick but heated kiss. “I’m going to kill the Irish one, though,” he adds, grinning when Louis laughs underneath him. 

“Can I watch?” the omega asks, his hand reaching down and brushing against Harry’s cock, driving him to near madness.

“I don’t think I can say no to anything you ask of me right now, sweet omega,” Harry answers truthfully. 

It’s the right answer, Harry thinks, because Louis takes hold of him properly then, a teasing grin on his beautiful face as he gives it a few experimental strokes. Harry isn’t sure if it’s because he’s been pent up for hours, or because he’s wanted this for so long, or if maybe Louis is just magic somehow, but he’s quite sure it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

If Louis’ hand feels this good, he might die once this goes any further. 

He might die, anyway.

Sooner than he’d like to admit, the alpha bats the hand away, scared he might burst before he even gets a chance to get his dick wet, and instead sits back and focuses his attention back on the omega’s hole, pushing the slick lace to the side to press two fingers back inside, groaning at how wet it is. Louis’ thighs, spread open and bracketing Harry’s body, clamp in and trap him there on instinct. Harry, smirking, has no intention of going anywhere.

Louis whines as Harry slowly, torturously fucks him with two fingers, and then three, going at his own pace and enjoying the way the omega’s breath hitches with each thrust, as if this is the main event and not just the warm up act. He whines and whines, pretty little noises that go straight to Harry’s dick, until the alpha can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” Harry curses, pulling out too quickly and leaving Louis’ hole clenching around the absence. 

The only sound that Louis makes is a pained moan, looking at Harry with both betrayal and annoyance.

“You’re still on birth control, right?” Harry asks, using Louis’ slick to lube himself up, eyes searing into Louis’ as he does. 

Louis nods. “Yes, I— Christ.” His answer is cut off by Harry lining himself up and pressing in, unable to wait any longer. The omega’s underwear is still pulled to the side, dragging against the alpha’s sensitive cock as he slides into the tight heat. 

“A bit of warning would be nice,” Louis remarks, without any heat, head thrown back as Harry bottoms out. 

“Sorry,” Harry answers, not really all that sorry. “God, how are you so fucking tight?”

“Always have been,” Louis answers, breath catching once again. “I don’t want you to let it go to your head, but I think you might be the biggest I’ve had.” 

It’s absolutely going to go to his head. It does a lot to soothe the horrible thought of Louis ever being taken by anyone else. A thought that is almost too much for him at the best of times, and somehow even worse now that he’s in this position.

“I get that a lot,” Harry says, smirking, pulling out and thrusting back in with renewed vigour. 

Louis’ answering moan is bliss. Harry wants to file it away for later, to never forget the noises he’s dragging out of the omega, or the way he looks underneath him. 

Easy banter pushed aside, both of them lose themselves in the feeling of each other, Harry in complete disbelief that this is happening and that somehow it’s better than all of the many, many times he’s imagined it, and Louis, lost in pleasure and seemingly in another world, head thrown back and his pretty neck right there, unmarked and taunting. 

Harry wants to bite. To mark. To claim.

He tries not to think too hard about that. It’s hard not to, when Louis looks like that and begs for more like that and swings his head back up to look Harry right in the eye as he hooks his legs around the man, pulling him closer. 

They kiss like lovers. Soft and slow and intimate and laced with soft breaths and small noises of pleasure pressed into each other’s mouths. Each thrust is charged with something more, each brush of lips and tongue speaking of far more than just friends fucking each other for fun; because it’s offered, and it’s been a while. It feels like so much more than that. Harry isn’t sure if he’s the only one who feels it. So he doesn’t say a word, and works on delivering his promise to ruin the omega even as he ruins himself. 

“You’re perfect,” the alpha says again, the words still packed with as much meaning as the first time. 

“Are those the only two words you know?” Louis asks, breathless, laughing. 

“I’m not sure you want to hear everything else I’m thinking,” Harry speaks into the skin of Louis’ neck, pressing soft kisses there as he keeps a steady pace.

“Try me.”

And maybe Harry really is weak, because the challenge in the omega’s voice is all it takes for the flood gates to open.

“I want to sink my teeth into your neck,” Harry says, mouthing along to his mating gland and pressing a kiss against it, the sweet vanilla scent that’s permeating the entire room even stronger there. “Right here. I want to make you forget about any other alpha, any other person that you’ve ever even thought about letting touch you. I want you to be unable to think about anything else but me, fucking you, marking you.” 

“Alpha,” Louis whines.

“See, you know who your alpha is, don’t you, sweet omega? God,” Harry growls the word, scraping his teeth against Louis’ neck, gentle and not enough to break skin. “I want to knot you so fucking bad, Louis. I’ve never wanted it more than I do right now. I want you full of me.”

Harry can’t think straight. If he were able to, he’d be more worried about all of the shit that’s spewing from his mouth, and how Louis might react to it.

Louis doesn’t seem to be thinking straight either, moaning and grasping at Harry like the alpha might disappear if he doesn’t, nails digging into the skin of his back. “Please,” Louis gasps. 

“Would you beg for his knot like you’re begging for mine?” Harry asks, unable to help himself.

“Only you,” Louis answers quickly. “Just yours. Please, Harry. Alpha. I need you.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” the alpha tuts, slowing down just slightly to fuck in deeper. Louis’ underwear is completely soaked, slick coating his thighs and drenching Harry, too. The omega’s dick lays trapped in the confines, leaking steadily into the lace and rubbing against Harry with each thrust. “But it’s okay,” Harry continues, voice almost a whisper. “Because you’re mine, Omega. He isn’t here, you aren’t begging for him. You’re mine, and when I’m done with you, you won’t be able to so much as breathe near him without thinking of me inside you, filling you up and making you make all those pretty little sounds for me.”

Louis’ grip—already impossibly tight—tightens, an almost-scream falling from his lips. A real scream follows after, when Harry hits the spot he’s been going for this whole time. 

“Are you close, baby?” 

Louis gasps as Harry hits it again. “So close,” he manages to answer, burying his face in Harry’s neck, steady moans sinking into the sweaty skin with each thrust. 

“Good,” Harry breathes, on the edge himself. “Good omega,” he praises. “I’m going to give you what you need, okay, angel? I’m going to knot you, fill you, okay?” 

“Please, Alpha,” Louis whines into his neck. “Want your knot, want your cum, want your pups,” he lists off, whimpery and almost unintelligible.

Harry is going to die. It’s sure now, he’s going to knot his omega and then drop fucking dead. 

“You can have it,” Harry whispers, thrusts turning erratic as his knot starts to swell. “It’s all yours, all of it.” 

His knot swells and swells until it catches, locking them together, Louis burying his scream in Harry’s shoulder and Harry grunting into Louis’ neck, using all of his willpower not to bite. Harry doesn’t notice the omega’s orgasm, too focused on his own and the overwhelmingly right feeling of them joining, but he feels the wetness between them as he carefully rolls them over so their sweaty tangle of limbs is in a more comfortable position. 

Louis hisses slightly in pain as the knot tugs during the movement, but Harry soothes him with a strong hand on his clammy back, stroking back and forth. “Just getting us comfortable, okay, sweetheart? I didn’t want to crush you by dumping my full body weight on you until it goes down.”

“Hate you,” Louis says, soft and sated and sleepy, face still firmly tucked against the alpha. “You’ve killed me.”

Harry laughs, jostling them. “Darling, that was me holding back.”

“Mmm,” Louis hums, faintly disbelieving. “We’ll see.”

It’s a promise of more, of another round of whatever this is between them. Harry is too tired to think about the implications of that but the small seed of hope plants itself within him anyway. 

Friends can fuck. Friends can knot their friends. Maybe, sometimes. But implying a next time? That’s something else. 

Or maybe Harry is losing it.

He doesn’t quite care, not when he’s still firmly inside the omega, the smell of them swirling in the air, clinging to the sheets and every inch of their bodies. Not when Louis is curled against him, both of them still trying to catch their breath, armed with a gut feeling that neither of them would move away even if they were no longer stuck together. 

Louis finally emerges from his hiding place, laying his head against the pillow tiredly, their foreheads a breath away from touching. 

He’s so fucking beautiful. That’s all that Harry can think. All he can ever think in Louis’ presence, really. The omega is tapping a beat against Harry’s chest, fingers drumming along to some song Harry isn’t hearing. Harry’s eyes are glued to his face as he does it, watching the way his brow twitches in concentration. The way, even as focused as he is, his blinks get slower and slower each time. 

“What’s the song?” Harry whispers, a yawn slipping out after the question. 

The fingers still. Louis’ eyes flick up to Harry’s, a small smile on his face. “The Friends theme tune,” he whispers back.

“You hate Friends,” Harry points out, eyebrow raised. 

Louis shrugs. “Song got stuck in my head.”

“You’re an odd one, Omega,” the alpha tells him, fondness seeping into the words.

“Perhaps I am,” Louis agrees, smile widening. “I’m also very sleepy.”

“Sleep,” Harry says. “Do you want me to stay?”

The omega nods quickly. “Please. Not that you can leave right now anyway, but after. Stay, please.”

“I’ll stay,” Harry agrees easily, bringing his arms closer around the omega and settling them into a more comfortable sleep position, Louis’ leg firmly hitched over Harry’s hip so they remain comfortably connected. 

“Thank you,” Louis whispers, pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. “For everything.”

Harry smiles, chasing Louis’ mouth and stealing another kiss. “I don’t know how many times I have to say ‘anything for you’ before you believe it, Louis, there’s nothing to thank me for,” he says. “Now sleep, beautiful. Then we can do this again in the morning.”

“Mm, okay,” Louis agrees, snuggling in and closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Alpha.”

Pressing his lips to the smaller man’s head, Harry takes a deep breath, inhaling their combined scent, Louis’ vanilla almost overpowering Harry’s coffee scent. “Sweet dreams, Omega,” he says on the exhale, giving himself over to rest as well.

They fuck once more in the night, waking up pressed together and desperate. It’s slow and sleepy and Harry’s knot has barely caught before they’re asleep again, Harry plastered against Louis’ back.

When Harry wakes next, it’s considerably later. Afternoon, if the sun blaring through the window and lighting up the omega’s room is any indication. 

Louis is sleeping peacefully, tucked against Harry’s side, impossibly beautiful even with his fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat and his brow furrowed in sleep. 

Harry doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t, for a while; watching Louis sleep. 

Eventually, the growing need within him to get up and find some sustenance for his tired out omega is far too great. Carefully, he peels himself away from the surprisingly strong grip and gets out of the bed, smiling fondly at the way Louis rolls into his vacated space, burying his face in the pillow. 

He dresses quickly and without care, pulling his boxers and jeans on and trying and failing to find his shirt, giving up on it easily in favour of finding the bathroom to relieve himself.

When his business is taken care of, and after getting momentarily distracted trying to piece together which products in the bathroom belong to Louis and which belong to his alpha housemate, Harry makes his way downstairs in search of the kitchen.

He finds it. And, unfortunately, finds Zayn inside, leaning against the counter with his phone in one hand, eyes glued to the screen, and a cup of tea in the other.

The eyes don’t remain glued to the screen for much longer, not when Harry awkwardly steps into the room and drags his attention away.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Zayn hisses, locking his phone and dropping it onto the counter. 

Harry, confused, frowns. “Good morning?” he says tentatively, unsure why the other alpha is looking at him like he might throw the quite chunky looking blue striped mug at his face. 

“Get the fuck out.”

Harry blanches. “Excuse me?”

Harry is quite sure he’s never met the man, let alone done anything to piss him off. He knows Zayn must have some issue with him, thanks to the perplexing insta block, but such open hostility is surprising. And more than a little angering.

He knows why he has issues with the alpha. The reasons may be stupid, and entirely down to misplaced jealousy, but they’re valid nonetheless.

Zayn puts his mug down, too, which is relieving. 

“Get the fuck out,” he says again, crossing his arms in a move that would be intimidating if Harry weren’t completely sure he could take Zayn on with minimal effort. “Louis can make whatever stupid decisions he wants to make, but I’m the one who’s going to have to pick up the pieces when you fuck him over. I know him, and I know you , your type, and you need to get the fuck out before you hurt him any more than I’m quite sure you already have.” 

“He’s my best friend,” Harry says, still as confused as ever. “I haven’t done anything to hurt him, I wouldn’t.”

Zayn scoffs. “So he isn’t up there, asleep, fucked out?”

Harry might punch him for even thinking of Louis like that. He might punch him just for having his own very clear image of what that would look like. 

“I don’t see what that has to do with—”

“He is my best friend,” Zayn interrupts, almost a growl, though he remains still. “And I know better than anyone that he doesn’t fuck around. Not with anyone . Sex is important to him, is it important to you? I’ve heard otherwise.”

Harry opens his mouth to reply, mind reeling. He doesn’t get a chance to because Zayn speaks again, angrier this time.

“You don’t get to treat him like one of your little conquests, he’s too good for that. He’s too good for you , so I suggest you get the fuck out of our house before I lose my patience,” he snaps. 

“Fuck you,” Harry spits back, losing his cool. His alpha is still screaming at him to feed Louis, to make sure he’s okay and comfortable and sated, and the omega’s ex is getting in the way of that. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t know me.”

“I know you well enough.” Zayn takes a step closer, his thick, rich scent coming between them. A warning. “Get out, now. Before he wakes up.”

And Harry wants to fight. He really, really does. It would be extremely satisfying, to put this idiot in his place, make some breakfast and tuck himself back into bed with Louis as if nothing had happened. Unfortunately, that plan has far too many holes in it. For one, he’s quite sure that as close as they are, and as secure as he is in their friendship, there’s no way Louis would take kindly to him beating the shit out of his long standing best friend. It might ruin them completely, even more than two rounds of decidedly not platonic fucking.

So he can’t punch Zayn in his perfect face and fuck his nose up a little bit. As much as he really wants to. And he can’t admit his feelings to Zayn, not when the man will tell Louis, not when Louis loves someone else. Even if Zayn believed him, that would ruin them too.

And he can’t just turn around and go back to bed without saying a word or making a move towards the alpha. Zayn would surely stab him in the back before he even made it to the stairs. 

His only real option is to leave. It’s not a decision he takes lightly, mulling it over in his head for a solid minute as Zayn stands there, trying to intimidate him with his pheromones. 

“You’re wrong,” Harry says, taking a step back, just out of the kitchen, with his hands raised in defeat. “You’re wrong. And you’re a fucking prick, and I’m sorry that you fucked up your chance with him, but I’m never going to hurt him. I’ll leave, okay? But not because you’re right about me, or him.” 

Zayn follows him, silent, as he puts his shoes on and grabs his coat, slinging it on over his bare chest. The man doesn’t seem likely to let him rush upstairs quickly to find his shirt, and Harry isn’t sure he’ll be able to leave if he takes another look at the omega.

He’s done this a hundred times. Left after a one night stand before the omega has awoken. It’s never felt this shit. He never cared about any of them, as awful as it may sound, beyond getting his dick wet and maybe bagging their phone number for a future fuck if they’re happy to forgive him for bailing so soon. 

But he cares about Louis. So much that he’d stick around for weeks , doing whatever he wanted, if that’s what the omega was looking for. It’s a new feeling. A not entirely pleasant one, nor one that he can entirely unpack with another alpha breathing down his neck to chase him out of the house. 

“Take him some water, at least? And some breakfast, something filling,” Harry says, defeated, as he stands by the front door waiting to leave.

Zayn softens. Just slightly, uncrossing his arms. “I will,” he says shortly. “Text him something, an excuse that makes sense. I don’t actually care, just don’t upset him.”

“Oh, like leaving him after knotting him isn’t going to upset him no matter what I say?” Harry asks. “When I had no intention to?” 

And now he’s pissed again, the brief softening a thing of the past. “I don’t care about whatever bullshit you’re trying to sell me, Harry. I just care about him, and he values you too much to be one of a long list.”

“I care about him,” Harry says, sighing and turning the door handle. “If he hates me for this, I’m going to kill you,” he adds, not entirely lying, before leaving, closing the door behind him.

He regrets it before he even reaches his car. Not only because it’s freezing, and his coat does little to cover the fact that he isn’t wearing a shirt.

Harry: I’m really sorry I had to leave before you woke up, my mum sent a cryptic text saying she needed help with something. Thought it was an emergency, turned out to be moving a bed. So annoying. I’m sorry again, see you tomorrow? x

Harry: You’re not at work, is everything okay? Missing your face and your lunch x

Harry: If you’re sick, I can come over?

Harry: Please just tell me if you’re okay.

Harry: I’m so close to texting your mum. I miss you, and I’m worried.

Four days. Four days of no Louis at work and the company, and Harry, is falling apart. 

Harry gets no reply from Louis. Not to his texts, or his instagram DMs, or his facebook messages, and nobody in HR will tell him where Louis is or when he’ll be back. He’s worried. Really worried. He does actually consider texting Louis’ mum, having had her number forced into his phone at some point during the party, but decides that that might be too far. 

The omega must be very ill. Or really, really mad at him.

Both are not nice thoughts. 

Apart from Harry doing absolutely terrible without him, the company is also going downhill fast. It’s very apparent, with Louis away on such short notice, that Harry’s uncle’s personal assistant is actually completely incompetent. And that Louis has been single-handedly doing his job for months, if not longer.

Everyone is stressed. Tim is shouting at anyone and everyone and Tyler has been sacked, which means that Tim’s relationship with Tyler’s mother is on the rocks, which only serves to make him more unbearable. 

There isn’t a single person in the office who isn’t ready for the weekend by the time Friday rolls around. Which is why it’s such a relief when Harry walks in on Friday morning to find Louis sitting behind the front desk.

The omega looks off ; tired and drawn and not entirely there. He hasn’t looked up since Harry stepped out of the lift, normally alerted by the ding and ready to greet whoever it is who’s arrived, but not today. The alpha tentatively makes his way to the desk, carrying his shitty Tesco meal deal.

“You’re back,” he says, the words quiet but still sudden enough to startle the omega, who’s head shoots up to look at him.

Immediate sadness passes over his features, then washes away before Harry can study it.

“I’m back,” Louis says simply.

“I texted you.”

“I saw.” Louis shifts uncomfortably. “After, uh, after my heat subsided.”

Harry freezes. Shit. 

“Oh,” he says, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “When did it…?”

“Sunday,” Louis answers, somewhat clipped.

Double shit. He knotted the omega and then left him to slip into his heat alone. God, he’s going to fucking kill Zayn, Louis’ feelings be damned. He feels awful, and he can’t even begin to imagine how Louis must have felt waking up alone like that.

“I didn’t know,” Harry assures him, hoping he’ll believe it. “I wouldn’t have left, if I did. I would have helped you through it.”

“It’s fine,” Louis says. It doesn’t sound fine, not when the omega can barely look at him as he says it, eyes focusing back on the computer screen in front of him. “I got through it.”

A sick feeling settles in Harry’s stomach. “Alone?” he asks. It’s rude, he knows, and really none of his business, but he can’t help himself.

Louis’ eyes flick to him, momentarily angry. “Why do you care?” he shoots back, uncharacteristically harsh. 

“Louis…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Louis shakes his head and turns away from him again. “I was alone. None of this matters, we can stop talking about it now.”

“I feel like maybe we should talk about it,” Harry offers, concerned that maybe their friendship really is fucked. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Louis says, sighing. “It’s fine, it’s all fine.”

“It doesn’t seem fine. You’re never like this with me.”

“Oh, forgive me for being tired!” Louis pleads, thick with sarcasm. He’s looking at the alpha again now, eyes blazing. “Sorry for going through four days of heat alone, only to come out of it to fifty-seven fucking emails from half the staff, texts from half my family members gushing about how wonderful you are, and the knowledge that my best fucking friend fucked me and then left before I woke up. Sorry that maybe all of that has left me a little bit fucking unpleasant to deal with.”

“I…” Harry starts, heart pounding, unsure how to respond.

He doesn’t get the chance to think of anything because his uncle is striding into the reception area before his thoughts and Louis’ words have stopped swirling around in his head. 

“Louis,” Tim greets, terse but pleased. “My office, now.”

The omega, still breathing heavily from his rant, tears his eyes away from Harry and nods to the other alpha. “Of course, sir,” he says, switching the monitor off and getting up to follow Tim’s retreating form without even looking at Harry.

Just as they’re walking into the hallway, Louis stops and turns. “Your lunch is in the fridge,” he says, quietly, before leaving without giving Harry a chance to reply.

Harry stands there for a while longer, trying to wrap his head around just how much he’s fucked everything up.

“Hey, Harry,” Sam, one of the few omegas in the office, calls as she sits down at his table, making him regret his choice to sit in the break room for once. “Mind if I join you?”

Harry doesn’t point out that she’s already sitting, just nods his head. “Go ahead,” he says. She’s less annoying than the other one, Jodie, who’s a lot more forward in her attempts to hop on his dick. Sam is bubbly and overly-friendly, but kind to everyone and Harry enjoys seeing which hair colour she’ll turn up with each month. It’s a faded pink right now, cropped close to her head. 

She grins at him. “Did your wife tell you he got offered a promotion this morning?“ she asks, taking a bite of her packed sandwich.

It still jarrs him a little, that everyone else knows about their little work wife thing. “I haven’t spoken to him since Tim called him in,” Harry answers, frowning. 

His lunch is still unopened in front of him, the meal deal shoved into Niall’s hands earlier in favour of the homemade lunch he’s missed so much this week. He opens it as Sam speaks, keeping his eyes on her.

“Well, it seems he said he needed to think about it, because Tim was having somewhat of a breakdown earlier and half the HR department overheard it. I don’t know why he’d even have to consider it, when he’s been doing the job all year anyway and it’s way better pay than the receptionist salary,” she says, pausing to wipe her mouth when a piece of mayonnaise covered lettuce sticks to it. “You don’t think he’s thinking of leaving, do you?”

“No,” Harry says quickly, because he doesn’t want to think of that being a possibility. It does trouble him though, the news that Louis didn’t accept the promotion so easily. 

What also troubles him, when he looks down at his lunch box and sees steak, the usual Friday meal, is the lack of a note accompanying the food. That is highly unusual. There’s always a note, even if it’s just something silly. Harry really has fucked up, he realises. Louis really is angry at him. Maybe angry enough to turn down a job he deserves, that he’s worked so hard for.

“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Harry admits, shoving a piece of steak into his mouth. “We’re fucked if he does leave, though,” he adds, mouth full.

Sam nods, grimacing slightly. “You’ll be fucked too, without your lunches. Maybe I’ll have to start packing extra,” she says with a wink. It does nothing for Harry. Nothing at all.

He might be broken. 

“I’m sure your cooking is great, Sam, but I don’t think anything could beat this,” he says, waving his steak-laden fork.

She laughs, bright and friendly. “Of course, of course. The man has raised omega standards everywhere,” she agrees easily. “You know, I don’t think he’ll leave.”

Harry frowns. “Why not? I would, if Tim weren’t my uncle and Louis wasn’t here.” It’s probably a bit too honest for conversation with someone he barely speaks to outside of discussions about time off and sick notes. 

She’s smirking now, which is pretty unsettling on such a kind face. “Same reason as you, I reckon. Has anyone ever told you that you’re both very co-dependent?”

A month ago, Harry would have denied such a notion, even knowing that it’s probably very true. Now, he just shrugs. “I think that might be coming to an end,” is all he says, because he doesn’t feel like airing out their dirty laundry to a co-worker and because if he says much else he might get upset and that would be incredibly embarrassing.

Thankfully, Sam gets the hint and changes the subject, and they eat the rest of their lunches with easy conversation flowing between them. Harry doesn’t entirely regret his decision to eat in the break room for once, and he figures it might be nice to actually talk to his co-workers once in a while, especially if his one real safe space in the office now hates him.

They talk until lunch time is up, and then the pink-haired omega leaves to get back to her desk while Harry makes himself a coffee with the shitty Tassimo coffee machine, the loud whirring from the thing filling the room.

His mind is pretty preoccupied, thinking about Louis and their almost-argument and his upset face and the thought of him all alone during his heat, begging to be filled the way Harry filled him. 

He’s so preoccupied with those thoughts that he doesn’t notice that Louis is standing right next to him until the omega speaks.

“Looked pretty cosy, that lunch,” he says.

Harry jumps, almost dropping the spoon he’s holding. “What, with Sam?” he asks incredulously, looking down at the omega who looks just as tired as earlier.

“Mm,” Louis hums, nudging Harry aside to flick the kettle on and grab a tea bag to drop into his mug. “Working your way around the office?”

Harry laughs at the absurdity of the question. “What?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Louis huffs, turning his back to the kitchenette counter and crossing his arms. 

“Louis, if you have something to say, please just say it,” Harry says. 

Louis tilts his head to look at him, assessing him for something. “Did you fuck me because you wanted to, or because I was there?” he asks boldly.

The alpha stills, feeling trapped. It’s a difficult question. The truth, as is obvious, is that he hasn’t wanted to fuck anyone but Louis for months, but that might just ruin things further. To lie and say it meant nothing at all doesn’t seem like the right thing to say either. 

So he settles for a simple, “I wanted to fuck you.”

Louis holds his gaze. “Are you sure about that?”

“Very sure,” Harry stresses. “I don’t lie. Not to you, and not about that.”

The omega huffs again, a little more playful this time. “Fine, I believe you. Still, I don’t buy your shitty excuse for leaving.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Harry says truthfully. “If I knew…I wouldn’t have left, I promise that. Would you have even wanted me to help you?”

Louis gives him a look. “I had my face buried in your shirt while fucking myself with a knotting dildo for four days straight,” he says, flushing slightly at his own words.

Harry almost chokes on his own spit. Christ, that image might just stick with him forever. 

“You’re not getting it back, by the way,” Louis adds, a small smile on his face. 

It’s a relief to get even the smallest of smiles from him. Maybe they’ll be okay, after all. “It’s yours,” Harry says, taking the coffee out from under the machine and giving it a quick stir. “I’ll give you ten more if it will stop you being mad at me.”

“Deal.” Louis edges closer to him, slipping himself between Harry and the counter and wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle. The alpha quickly lets go of his coffee to wrap his arms around the omega, confused but not at all mad about the development. He’ll take confusing public affection over the omega’s sad face any day.

“Tim offered me the personal assistant job,” Louis says into his chest. 

“I heard,” Harry replies. “I also heard that you haven’t said yes yet.”

Louis heaves a sigh, the movement rocking them both a little. “I got worried that maybe you’d asked him to give me it because you felt bad about having sex with me,” he confesses quietly. “And I thought, maybe, it would be too awkward, working with you after everything.”

Harry frowns, taking a step back to force the omega to look at him, sliding his hands up to his face to hold his head up. “Louis,” he says seriously. “The entire fucking company nearly went down because you were off for a few days and Tyler didn’t have a clue what he was doing without you there fixing everything for him. I didn’t tell Tim to promote you, but if he’d have asked anyone here they would have told him to do it. Me included. You’re amazing, and I’m not letting you leave or put yourself down because we pushed the boundaries of our friendship a little too far, okay?”

The omega nods, eyes wide and shining. 

“You’re perfect,” Harry continues, sparking the memory of the same words being uttered in very different circumstances. “Take the job, okay? I’ll miss seeing your pretty face as soon as I enter the building, but I’ll probably see you more this way. And it won’t be awkward between us. If I went too far with the things I said that night, I’m sorry, and I won’t blame you if you need space before our friendship goes back to normal.”

“No, I—” Louis starts.

“I got carried away,” Harry interrupts, feeling the need to save himself. He did go too far, he knows that, and as responsive as Louis was at the time, it must have been weird for him to have Harry banging on about marking and pups. 

“It’s okay,” Louis assures. “I liked it.”

“Me too,” Harry agrees.

“But it can’t happen again,” Louis continues. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He knew it was coming, but it still hurts to hear. He nods anyway, agreeing. “I know, I don’t want to lose you either.”

”We’ll work it out,” Louis says, removing himself from Harry’s grip and going back to making his tea, the kettle having boiled moments ago. “Oh, can you maybe refrain from public dating for a while? Because I don’t really want to tell my mum that we broke up so soon, and Lani knows everyone in the entirety of the North, I’m pretty sure. It might be a bit awkward if they think you’re cheating on me.”

Harry hums in agreement, grabbing his coffee. “Easily done. I wouldn’t want to face Bev’s wrath.”

“Thank you,” Louis says, turning to offer him a real smile. “I know it’s a big ask.”

Shaking his head, Harry laughs. “It’s really not. I don’t have any plans to go out with anyone but you. So if you need me for any more fake boyfriend duties, let me know.”

“Noted,” Louis says with a nod. “Now take your coffee and get back to work, slacker.”

Harry gasps, pressing the hand not holding his mug to his heart. “Is this what we’re in for? Louis with a little bit of power?”

Louis grins. “Absolutely.”

“Good. It’s hot.” Harry drops the act, reaching the hand out to tickle Louis’ side quickly, the omega shooting away with a squeal.

“Piss off!” Louis shouts playfully, grabbing his cup of tea so Harry won’t go for him again. “Out before I tell Tim that I'll only take the job if he fires you .”

Nephew or not, Harry is very sure that he’d pick Louis over him any day. Dutifully, the alpha salutes the omega with a cheeky grin and leaves the break room feeling a lot lighter than when he entered it, with Louis smiling behind him.

If he’s a bit distraught at how quickly Louis told him they can’t push the boundaries again, then that can be pushed away until a later date.

Things are fine. Things are good , even. The notes trickle back into the lunches, cute little doodles and flirty quips and reminders that it’s all going to be okay finding their way back into his lunch each day. His phone, too, is even more blessed than before by Louis’ texts, the omega messaging him every moment that they aren’t at work or sleeping. 

Louis takes the job and takes to it well, only really doing what he’s been doing all along but this time not having to do reception duties on top of that. The office runs smoother with him at the helm, taking care of whatever Tim needs and doing little bits for everyone else too as he always has. He seems to enjoy it more with the knowledge that he’s actually getting paid for it.

The new receptionist is really nice, a middle-aged beta called Jen with a welcoming smile and a surprisingly dirty mouth. She’s not quite Louis, but she’s a good enough replacement.

So everything is fine.

Except they keep going on dates. Not real dates, merely meals that they refuse to label as a date but really are. They keep telling themselves that it’s a part of the ruse, as if they ever bump into anyone who knows them on these outings.

And neither of them seem to be entirely over the underlying sexual tension that giving in to their urges has brought about. In fact, it gets worse by the day. It’s three weeks since they fucked, the end of the second week of December, and Harry is losing it.

He might actually snap. He’s pretty sure that he’s headed for either a full on breakdown or just pushing Louis over his desk and fucking him in the middle of the office. Either or.

An intervention. That’s what he needs. A full on intervention. Or a month away from the omega so that he can get the tempting scent out of his mind for long enough to think straight. Neither of those seem to be on the cards for him, though, so the suffering continues.

Until Victoria turns up on his doorstep with a car full of models behind her and a bottle of champagne in her hands.

“Get your shoes on, you’re coming out,” she says, holding up the bottle. 

“Excuse me?” he asks, groggy after hours of laying on the sofa. He’s definitely not dressed for leaving the house. He eyes up Victoria and her silky red dress and then looks down at his joggers. 

She eyes him up too, deflating a little with a pout. “Okay, maybe go get changed first.” 

“What’s happening?”

“You’re coming out with us,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Obviously.”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t answered my texts since you told me you fucked Louis, and I figured you need a drink or seven, preferably with models.”

Harry stares at her, and then at the brown-haired, vaguely familiar model who’s waving at him from the car, and shakes his head. “I’m supposed to be seeing Louis tonight,” he says. 

She frowns. “It’s nearly eight.”

“His housemate is away, he wanted me to help put his christmas tree up,” Harry explains, shrugging. It is a little late to be driving to the other side of the county, but Zayn isn’t leaving til nine and he’s not risking crossing paths with the man again. 

“And you aren’t currently exclusive?” Vic asks, eyebrow raised.

“What does that have to do with putting a tree up?”

“Answer the question, Styles.”

Harry sighs. “No, we haven’t fucked since the first time and he doesn’t want us to go further. Happy?”

Grinning, she nods. “Ecstatic, actually. You’re coming with us. Go text your boy and get dressed.”

“Are you on something? I can’t just blow him off!” Harry is so ready to close the door in her face, but they don’t do that, and as annoying as she is, she is his oldest friend.

“You can, actually. I’m calling in our pact,” she says, arms crossed and pure evil on her face.

Their pact is a stupid, stupid thing that they started as teenagers. It’s a promise that whenever one of them calls it, the other has to do as they say, no questions asked. Drop everything, no matter what. It can only be used once a year, so it has to be used wisely. The first time one of them called it was when they were sixteen. Victoria asked Harry to drop one of his friends, an alpha called Bradley. She wouldn’t tell him why, but he did it, no questions asked, and lost half of his sixth form friend group in the process.

The last time either of them used it was three years ago, when Harry needed her to call and pretend to be his girlfriend to get him out of a one night stand turned clingy. She would have done it without the pact, had she not been about to walk with Gucci during New York fashion week. 

It was a big ask, and she did it anyway, almost putting her in the shit when she missed her cue by ten seconds. So Harry really does owe her.

But bailing on Louis isn’t something he wants to do.

“Vic, I can’t,” he says, pleading.

Her face drops. It’s a horrifying sight, almost on par with seeing Louis cry or seeing an actual fucking ghost rock up in your living room.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks, incredulous. “You’ve been a shitty fucking friend lately Harry, but this really takes the biscuit. This isn’t just about you, you know? I lost out on a big contract last week and I’m going to be in Australia for Christmas shooting some stupid bikini spread that I don’t even want to do, so I’m not going to get to see my mum for the third christmas in a row, and my best friend won’t even answer my texts so I can’t bloody talk to anyone about it.”

“Victoria…”

“No!” she shouts, actually upset now, the champagne bottle swinging as she waves her arms at him. “I drove up here from London because I was worried about you, and I missed you, and you can’t spend one night with me.”

With anyone else, Harry would be sure this is some sort of emotional manipulation. With anyone else, he’d just say no. But Victoria doesn’t get this upset, not at him, not ever. 

And he has been a shit friend. He knows that. Not just to her, but to his other friends too. Louis has taken up so much space in his life that there’s been no room for anyone else, and the omega doesn’t even feel the same about him, so why is he doing all of this? For what?

Sighing, he holds his hands up to placate the angry omega. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, I really am. I’ll come out, but if he hates me for it you owe me.”

Victoria calms a little, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m sorry for getting upset. Thank you, I’ll, uh, wait in the car?”

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, before shutting the door on her and quickly typing out a text to Louis before he runs to get changed into something more appropriate.

Harry: Really sorry. Friend emergency, a real one. I can pop over tomorrow to help with the tree? x

He doesn’t get a reply until half an hour later, when he’s changed and squished into the back of a car with a semi-famous omega model on each side, glaring at the back of Victoria’s head whilst the girls try to talk to him. 

Louis: It’s okay :) x

Harry: I really am sorry x

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he sighs and closes his eyes, tuning out the awful music Victoria has chosen to blast as they make their way into the city.

Three hours later, the room is starting to spin.

Harry isn’t sure where they are. Some high-end club in Manchester where almost-celebs (and a few real ones) hang out and pretend not to call paps at the end of the night. It’s swanky, and expensive, and really quite fucking boring. And he’s walked in on a few people fucking and more than a few lines of coke being snorted every time he’s gone to piss or tried to get outside for a hit of air that doesn’t reek of sweat and vodka. 

Victoria’s model friends are nice but seemingly very eager to get their hands on him in some way and Harry is starting to wonder if maybe his friend has put them up to it. Normally, he wouldn’t mind. He’s put up with it for the past couple of hours, dancing with them when they ask and buying them drinks when they need one like a good gentleman. And it’s not that they aren’t attractive, or don’t appeal to him in any way, because they are and they do, but he can’t seem to get Louis off his mind for long enough to consider it.

Even alcohol won’t take the image of Louis underneath him out of his head, or the pain in his heart when he remembers that the omega doesn’t see him as anything other than a friend.

He’s fucking pathetic, he thinks as he downs another shot handed to him by Natalie, one of the girls that has barely let go of his arm for long enough to let him piss. 

She’s pretty. Really pretty, in a Vogue sort of way. And she smells nice, like coconut and strawberry. And the way her fingers run up his arm, tracing over his tattoos, as they sit close together in their packed booth as the other girls chatter away over the music, is very distracting. 

He considers it. What it might be like to take her home, or skip the romance and take her here like so many couples seem to be doing. It could be fun, he’s sure. She’s as close to his type on paper as any of the other omegas here, brown skin, covered in some sort of body glitter that’s transferring onto everything she touches, pretty hazel eyes, and a soft smile that almost does something to him. She doesn’t look too much like Louis, but there’s a quality behind her grin that makes Harry think of him. Or he’s just looking for Louis in everything, he can’t quite tell anymore.

So he could do it. He could. But he probably won’t, he thinks, even as the alcohol and her teasing touches make him less sure of that by the minute. 

“You should go for it!“ Victoria, sitting on his other side, shouts into his ear, patting his knee drunkenly. Her breath stinks of tequila and smoke, and Harry has no clue how she always manages to read his mind.

He turns to her, tearing his eyes away from Natalie. “What?”

Vic grins. “Natalie! She’s lovely. Best of the lot, for sure,” she says.

Harry groans, head starting to hurt. “I can’t,” he says, shaking his head and then immediately regretting the action when it only makes the room spin a little more. “I can’t, Vic.”

“You can,” she assures him, before turning her back on him to focus her attention back on the redhead she’s been trying to sleep with all night, evidently done with convincing Harry to try and forget about Louis for a night. 

He can’t. That becomes very clear when, half an hour later, he and Natalie find themselves in the alley beside the club, her lips attached to his neck, his hand on the underside of her thigh, hitching her leg up, and his mind firmly anywhere else. Even her scent, stronger now with arousal, only makes him miss the vanilla and chocolate he craves so much.

“I can’t,” he says, quickly pushing himself away.  They’d only come out for Natalie to smoke and somehow ended up like this, the cigarette lay in a puddle on the floor. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, her American accent out of place among the sounds of drunk brits walking up and down the street beyond the alley. She smiles at him with a small amount of pity, straightening out her skirt and brushing a hand through her hair. “Someone else?” she asks, not upset.

“Someone else,” he confirms, sighing. 

The omega winces sympathetically. “It’s shit, isn’t it?”

“Very,” he replies. The cold air is sobering him up slightly, which only brings the thoughts of Louis back with a vengeance. 

“I hope that works out for you,” Natalie says, swaying a little as she pulls out another cigarette and lights it with slightly shaking hands. “Are they hot?”

Harry laughs. “Gorgeous. Breathtakingly.”

Natalie nods. She’s about to say something else when a ringing interrupts her. It takes Harry’s clouded mind a few moments to realise that the noise, and the subsequent vibrating, is coming from his pocket.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pulling his phone out and answering it without looking, figuring that anyone who is calling him at nearly midnight must have a good reason. “‘Ello?”

“Hi, sorry, I know you’re dealing with something.” It’s Louis. Speak of the devil. Or angel, in this case.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Harry says quickly. “What’s up, baby?” 

“I know it’s short notice, but my sister called an hour ago and basically dropped it on me that I need to bring you to Sunday dinner tomorrow,” Louis says. He sounds tired, Harry thinks. “I tried to text you but I didn’t know if you’d see it. If you can’t make it, it’s okay.”

Shit. It is kind of short notice. And he’s going to be hungover tomorrow, having not been able to get away with drinking without one since he was twenty, but he’s not going to say no to Louis. Or his family.

“I’ll be there,” he assures. “What time? Do I need to bring anything?”

Louis pauses for a moment, the silence crackling in Harry’s ear. “Are you at a club?”

Harry frowns, wondering how he knows, and then realises that the music thumping from inside must be loud enough to hear on the other end of the line. “Uh, technically I’m outside one,” Harry answers sheepishly.

Another beat of silence. “Oh,” is all he says.

“My friend kind of forced me out,” Harry tries to explain. Natalie is still standing against the wall, smoking, watching him with thinly veiled amusement laced with a shred of sympathy. “I really didn’t want to. I wanted to be with you.”

“It’s okay.” Louis sighs. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Harry. Go have fun. If you can make it, pick me up at eleven.”

“I’ll be there,” the alpha promises. “I swear, Omega. I’ll put your tree up after, too.”

“Zayn stayed and helped me,” Louis says quietly. Harry feels even worse now, the thought of Zayn once again stepping in where he failed almost too much for him. “I’ll let you get back to it. Have a good night, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow,” the omega continues.

“I’ll be there,” Harry says again, as if that will make Louis believe him after all the times he’s let the omega down. 

“Goodnight,” Louis says, putting down the phone without letting Harry say anything back. 

Harry thinks, even with his lack of a functioning brain currently, that he might have lost that interaction. Another fuck up to add to his long list of fuck ups with the omega, including almost fucking Natalie just for good measure.

“Another drink?” Natalie says, putting out the end of the cigarette with the bottom of her shoe.

“Maybe one,” Harry agrees. Because he’s a fucking idiot.

After the phone call with Louis, the rest of the night is a bit of a blur. Flashes of dancing with the girls, still a little too close to be friendly but not close enough to be anything substantial. A few more drinks, though he’s pretty sure he didn’t take anything harder and that he stopped accepting drinks once he started stumbling every time he tried to get up. 

They left not too late, a little after one a.m., Harry stumbling onto the street with his arms around Victoria and Natalie (he thinks) to keep them steady, despite being unable to keep steady himself. Flashes of light from somewhere, and shouting. He can’t remember what that was. He came home alone. He knows that much.

He also knows that he shouldn’t have drank so much. The pounding in his head tells him that the moment he dares to open his eyes, his phone alarm blaring from somewhere on the other side of the room. 

Thanking his drunk self for setting an alarm and then throwing the phone across the room, he forces himself out of bed to grab it and turn it off. Nine o’clock in the morning. Christ.

Too early, he thinks, looking wistfully at his inviting bedsheets and wishing he could crawl back into their warmth. It’s way too early.

But Louis. He has to pick Louis up. He remembers that. Thank fuck he remembers that, because he also remembers that he might be in a little bit of shit with the omega for ditching him last night, and the last thing he needs is to do it again.

In the hour he has before he has to leave to be on time, Harry drinks three glasses of water, takes two paracetamol, attempts to eat four pieces of toast and manages three and a half before the nausea threatens to upend them all, thankfully avoids throwing up, manages to get himself showered and dressed and somewhat presentable, and finally finds himself behind the wheel of his car and confident that he is safe to drive and not about to die. 

His head is thankfully a lot clearer as he makes his way towards Louis’ house, if still a little bit achey. 

Louis is waiting outside when he pulls up, wrapped up adorably in layer upon layer of warm clothing and still pink-cheeked. He rushes to get into the car before Harry even has the chance to get out and open the door for him.

“Morning,” the omega says shortly, whipping his gloves off and shoving his hands in front of the heater. 

“Good morning,” Harry replies, watching him, amused. “Where to?”

“Do you remember the way to the pub my sister’s party was at? It’s about two streets down from there.”

Harry nods. “I remember,” he says, setting off.

They don’t talk. Harry is almost thankful for it, the half an hour of extra silence doing wonders for his head, but mostly he’s a lot more concerned that the omega might actually be mad at him. 

The only talking that happens is Louis directing him towards his mum’s house as they get closer, pointing out which road to turn down and quietly saying ‘left here, right here’ as if it pains him to. Harry wants to cut in and apologise, but he’s too worried about crashing the car or getting lost if he doesn’t focus, so he doesn’t.

Eventually Louis directs him to park in front of a small terraced house on a not too quiet street. There’s a space right outside it that he pulls into with ease, thankful to be done with the drive. 

“So…” Louis says when Harry turns the engine off. “They were probably on their best behaviour at the party. I’m sorry in advance if they’re a little…weird.”

“I’m good with weird,” Harry says reassuringly, wanting to touch Louis somehow to reassure him further how they usually do but deciding against it. “It’s going to be fine. Are you okay with pretending again? I know you’re upset with me. I really am sorry about that, by the way.”

The omega sighs. “I know you’re sorry. I was just a bit hurt, but I get it. I’m good, it’s good. I’m more worried about my mum and her obsession with you, and how much worse it’s going to get,” Louis explains, trying to smile but failing.

Harry might be stupid, but he’s not that stupid. He can tell that Louis is upset, at him or at something else, he isn’t quite sure. It doesn’t seem like the time to probe, not when they need to get inside before someone comes looking for them and finds them decidedly not acting like the loved up couple they’re trying to be.

A little girl runs past the car, giggling loudly and being chased by her mother, startling them both.

“We should go in,” Louis says, the moment broken and Harry’s dilemma about saying something taken out of his hands. 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “Who am I going to be faced with?” 

“Mum, obviously. Lani and Leah, if she decides that leaving her room for long enough to eat with the family is worth it today, my grandma probably if she didn’t go to church and whichever auntie couldn’t be arsed to cook,” Louis lists off fondly. “Hopefully none of my cousins, I really don’t have the energy to fight for you.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Harry says. “I’m pretty sure I can face that.”

Louis nods, frowning a little as he looks at Harry. “You have some—” he says, reaching out and brushing his still slightly chilly fingers against Harry’s neck. “Glitter.” He pulls his hand away, showing Harry the remnants of his bad decisions.

“Oh.” Harry shrugs, trying not to seem bothered, even while his heart beats faster than he thought possible. “Must have been from the club.”

The omega watches him for a moment before shrugging and flicking the glitter off his fingers. “Let’s go, before mum sends out the army.”

Relieved, Harry nods. 

Together, they make their way into the house, Louis opening the unlocked front door and calling out their arrival. There’s a muffled shout from somewhere on the other side of the small house, and then another from upstairs. Harry smiles at how homely it is, the warmth from the central heating hitting them the moment they step in and blanketing them as they close the door behind them and rid themselves of their layers.

Louis is wearing a similar jumper to the one he wore to the party, except in a forest green rather than blue. Harry hates that the first thing he thinks of is taking it off like he did the other.

He can’t be thinking those thoughts. Not now in front of Louis’ family, again, nor ever, if they want to keep being friends. 

A cheerful laugh saves him from those thoughts, Lani appearing out of nowhere and hugging him. Today, she smells like something warm and spicy, like she’s been baking gingerbreads all day and the scent has lingered.

“So glad you’ve made it finally,” she says, letting go of him and moving to pull Louis into her side. “We’ve been trying to get this one to bring you over for the past two weeks. He’s terrible at lying, did you know that? His excuses were bloody awful.”

Harry laughs, mostly at the affronted look on Louis’ face. “He didn’t tell me I was invited,” he says, deciding to throw the omega under the bus. Louis turns that affronted look on him, glaring.

“Oh, of course he didn’t, I told you he’s scared we’ll run you off! A drama queen, he is,” Lani says, still squeezing her brother. 

“I hate you both,” Louis says, returning her hug with a quick squeeze before removing himself from her arms and stepping closer to Harry to pinch his side. “You’re dead to me, Styles,” he adds, hushed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, pulling Louis into his side and wrapping an arm around him. “You love me.”

Louis scoffs. “You wish.” 

“Gross,” a small voice says from behind Lani, mocking but fond. 

“Leah!” Lani shouts, rounding on her and chasing her down the hallway and off into the house, both of them laughing. Louis watches them both go, smiling as if he can’t help it. Harry watches him. As always.

“Shall we stop hanging out in the hallway and go see if your mum needs help?“ he asks, nudging the omega and breaking the moment.

Louis turns his smile on Harry. “If you offer to help her, she’ll never let you leave. You’ll be stuck pretending to be my boyfriend until we’re old and grey,” he jokes.

Harry doesn’t mind the sound of that.

Louis leads the way to the kitchen where Bev is doing about fifty things at once, tending to the food and chatting up a storm with one of Louis’ aunts, Jane. It smells delicious, like the kind of sunday roast he hasn’t had since he was younger and they’d go to his grandma’s every weekend for one. 

There’s another round of greetings and hugs, and then Harry is sent to set the table when his insistent offer of help is undermined by Louis outing his utter inability to handle anything in the kitchen. With a grumpy look at Louis and an armful of plates, Harry heads into the dining room to find Lani and Leah in there, talking about the younger girls' schoolwork.

He smiles at them, at Lani’s almost-motherly questioning that comes with being an older sister of someone so much younger. It reminds him of his own sister, the gap not quite as wide but the energy still the same.

It shocks him how much and how quickly he has come to enjoy Louis’ family. The thought continues to plague him as they sit down to eat, plates of steaming food piled onto the table and everyone digging in. He wants this. He wants to be part of Louis’ family, to sit and watch Leah and Louis argue over potatoes like there isn’t a nine-year age gap between them, and to listen to Bev and her sister gossip about people he doesn’t know. He wants to hear all of Lani’s rants about her disappointing love life, and watch Louis reacting to them sympathetically as if he hasn’t been complaining about them to Harry for the past year. 

He wants to bring their pups into this one day, to see them be loved wholly in the way everyone in this room is. The way Harry is, even though he’s new, even though it’s all a lie. Or a half-lie, because there’s no part of him that is pretending when he lays his arm across the back of Louis’ chair, or presses a kiss to the top of his head when he gets up to grab something from the kitchen before Bev can get up and do it herself. 

He wants to introduce Louis to his own family, not as close-knit but just as loving. His mum would love the omega, Harry is sure of that.

But none of that is going to happen. Because for Louis, this is pretend. And this family, so kind and so accepting, are going to freeze Harry out the moment their fake relationship comes to an end. 

At least he’ll still have the friendship. And the lunches. That’s something, at least.

“What’s up with you?” Louis asks sometime after dinner has finished, the two of them curled up on a loveseat in the living room, the rest of the family strewn about, having their own conversations. 

“Nothing,” Harry answers, quiet enough to not be heard by anyone else. 

“You’ve been pulling some right faces when you think nobody’s looking,” the omega throws back.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“You’re such a bad liar.”

Not that bad, clearly, Harry thinks. 

“It’s just…” Harry pauses. He might just say it. He considers it, how easy it would be to just let it slip out right now, where Louis can’t immediately reject him. 

“What the fuck,” Leah gasps from the corner of the room, halting Harry’s thoughts and all conversation.

“Language!” Bev, Lani, and Louis shout at the same time. 

Leah, who hadn’t spoken all that much throughout the meal and has spent most of the time since in the corner staring at her phone, is staring right at Harry, eyes wide.

“You know Victoria Graves ?” she asks, screeching the name. Lani, who is peeking over her shoulder at whatever is on her phone, turns her gaze on him too, hers less bewildered and more bordering on an angry sort of suspicion. 

Oh. Shit. Harry isn’t sure what they’re looking at, but he figures that whatever it may be might require quite a bit more explanation than he is prepared for.

“Oh, uh, yes, she’s my oldest friend,” he says. Louis, still tucked under his arm, looks confused. 

“This other girl is a Victoria’s Secret model, right?” Lani says. Harry freezes. Louis stiffens. 

“What’s this about?” the omega asks, pulling away from Harry slightly and holding his hand out. Harry can’t think much over the pounding of his heart as Lani takes the phone off Leah, who goes to protest but seems to think better of it and sits back with a huff, and hands it to Louis.

Bev and Jane watch on in confusion as Louis looks at the picture zoomed in on Leah’s phone screen. Harry looks at it, because he knows he has to, and winces. It looks bad. It looks really, really bad. 

It’s clearly a pap pic, and seeing it he remembers coming out of the club to flashes. He should have realised that was what that was. Victoria is clinging to his arm, her hair and makeup messed up in a way that tells Harry that she managed to get with the redhead she was after, but that must look a lot worse to Louis. On his other side, Natalie is similarly attached to him, but in a way that looks a lot more intimate. In this picture, they’re laughing at something, looking at each other. 

Harry dreads to think what other pictures there might be. He’s sure they didn’t do anything, not after the alley, but his memories are patchy at best. 

“Glitter,” Louis murmurs. His hand is shaking, and Lani gently takes the phone back. 

“I am so confused,” Jane says, laughing awkwardly in an attempt to break the thick tension clogging up the air in the room. 

“Fucking glitter,” Louis says louder, pushing off the loveseat and leaving the room in a near-run. He thumps up the stairs, the sound of it echoing through the silence in the room.

Harry is so fucked. If his own stress doesn’t kill him off, then one of the increasingly angry women in the room surely will. Lani, who seems to be the only one who thinks she understands what’s going on, is looking at him like she’s ready to beat him to death with the phone in her hand. 

“It’s not like that,” he says quickly. “Whatever you’re thinking, I promise it’s not that.”

“It really better not be,” she says, crossing her arms. 

He needs to talk to Louis. He can’t sit here defending himself to someone who has no clue what’s going on between them. Shaking his head, he gets up, trying hard not to look at Bev, who looks way too disappointed in him. “Where will he be?” 

“Attic room,” Leah pipes up, ignoring Lani’s look of anger thrown her way. 

Harry nods at her before leaving and quickly scaling the stairs and finding his way to the attic. He doesn’t know what he expects to find. Louis, ready to slap him, probably. And he would deserve it. He’d promised not to date publicly just in case someone saw them, and then gone and thrown himself at a fucking model without even stopping and thinking about what could have happened.

Louis has every right to be angry at him. They’re going to have to confess their ruse to Louis’ family, which is only going to embarrass him. Or, they’ll have to make out that Harry cheated. Which isn’t much better. The picture is too damning to pass it off as normal, he shouldn’t be that close to another omega. 

When he opens the door to Louis’ room, however, he doesn’t find an angry omega. What he finds is much worse. Louis is crying. 

The room is not really what he expected, as much as it is. It’s a lot like Louis’ room at his house, with packed bookshelves and fairy lights, but this one also has a rather large poster of an alpha popstar Harry can’t remember the name of, and a collection of beanie babies piled in a corner, and desk with pages full of doodles pinned above it. 

And in the middle of it, standing in front of the bed, is Louis. Crying, with a hand over his mouth as if he’s trying to muffle the sobs.

And Harry doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Louis…” he tries, closing the door behind him. The room smells like Louis, like his sadness, and it’s hard to breathe through it.

The omega shakes his head, turning away. “Please go away,” he says, voice shaking. “Please, Harry.” 

“It’s not what it looks like,” he tries again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was that drunk and I didn’t think about the consequences of being out with them, but it wasn’t like that . Victoria really is my oldest friend, and she’s very gay.”

“And the other one?” Louis asks quietly. 

Harry pauses. “It wasn’t what it looks like,” he says, because he doesn’t think he can lie and say that nothing at all happened.

It’s the wrong answer. Louis scoffs, turning to face him again. “You were covered in her glitter in that picture! It’s still on you now! That doesn’t look like nothing to me, Harry.”

“I kissed her, that’s all,” he admits. “In the alley, before I got too drunk, but after that nothing happened.”

Louis doesn’t look placated by that. A fresh wave of tears fall, accompanied by a heartbreaking pained look. “Great. That’s great,” the omega says, taking a deep breath. “ So happy for you. Now get out, please.” 

Harry doesn’t know what to do. He can’t leave. 

“Louis, please, I’ll tell them I cheated, we don’t have to tell them this was a lie. I know it’s not ideal…”

The omega stares at him, bewildered. “You think that’s why I’m so upset? Christ, you’re so fucking dense, Harry, seriously. Fucking hell.” He starts pacing the small space. “I really thought that you fucking knew .”

“Knew what?” Confusion is a constant state of mind for Harry when it comes to deciphering Louis’ emotions, but this is terrible. He doesn’t understand what’s happening or how to fix it, but he just wants the omega to stop looking at him like that.

At Harry’s question, Louis starts laughing , bordering on hysterical. “I thought you fucking knew! I thought you fucked me and left me the morning after because you knew,” he shouts. “Fucking hell.”

“Louis,” Harry presses carefully, stepping forward and stopping the omega’s pacing with a hand on each arm, gripping tightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, pleading. 

Louis looks at him like he’s completely stupid. Harry looks back, silently begging him to make any of this make sense.

“I’m in love with you, you idiot,” the omega admits, quiet and sad. 

“No,” Harry says, because that can’t be true. “No, you aren’t, what about that other alpha, the one you told your family about?”

“He doesn’t exist!” Louis wrenches himself out of Harry’s grasp and sits on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around his torso in an attempt to comfort himself. “I lied, okay? I didn’t know what else to do and then it all spiralled out of my control and you were so quick to help me by doing this and I selfishly wanted to pretend, just for five minutes.”

“But, you don’t…”

“I thought you knew,” Louis whispers. “I thought that I’d gone too far by sleeping with you, made it too obvious, and that you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore.”

“I didn’t,” Harry says. 

He still doesn’t. They can’t have both gotten it so wrong. 

“Well, you know now,” Louis says sadly, sighing and reaching a shaking hand up to wipe at his eyes. “And I get it, if you’re angry at me. We can end this here and now, I’ll tell them that it was all a lie and then you’re free to go do whatever you want with your model. I’m not going to force you to keep lying for me.”

And maybe he understands a little bit of Louis’ frustration now. Because how doesn’t he know, that Harry is in love with him, too? Why can’t he see it after everything? It feels like he’s been walking around with a sign attached to his head saying I’m in love with Louis , and everyone has been able to see it but them. 

But then again, Harry didn’t even see it himself for so long. 

“It’s not a lie,” he confesses. 

The omega tilts his head up to look at him, frowning. Harry almost misses what he says because he’s distracted by how blue Louis’ eyes are against the blotchy pink of his tear-stained face. “What isn’t?” Louis asks. 

Harry takes a deep breath. “Being in love with you, it’s not a lie. I haven’t been pretending.”

Louis looks a lot like Harry felt hearing the same from him. Like it doesn’t make sense, and can’t possibly be true. His eyes are wide, still wet with almost-falling tears, and Harry wants to kiss it all away.

“No,” Louis says, echoing Harry’s denial. “We aren’t both that stupid.”

“I think we might be.” 

“You left me. And now this picture…and why would you want me ?” Louis shakes his head. “Maybe you’re confused? Maybe pretending confused you?”

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than this has been going on, Louis,” Harry says, trying to be patient but bewildered by the omega’s reluctance to accept it. 

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you’re you! You’re the perfect omega, my perfect omega, and I would have taken being just your friend forever over losing the chance to have you in my life at all. I didn’t want to risk that,” the alpha explains. “You’re perfect, and I don’t know what to do with perfection. I don’t deserve perfection.”

Louis is shaking his head, smiling the tiniest bit, just a small quirk of the corner of his mouth. “That’s what I thought about you , Harry.”

“Then maybe we are just both idiots,” Harry says softly. 

Louis hums in thought. It looks like something is still troubling him, something stopping him from fully accepting. Harry frowns. “What is it?” he asks.

“Why did you really leave, the morning after the party?” Louis asks, watching him carefully for the answer. 

Harry pauses. He knows he has to tell the truth. But, unfortunately, he’s suddenly very aware that the truth doesn’t really absolve him of anything. He should have fought Zayn harder, should have fought to stay with Louis if he really cared so much.

But at the time he was so afraid of losing him that lying and risking hurting him was the better option. He can’t lie now.

“Zayn told me to leave. He said that he couldn’t let me hurt you, and that you’re too good for me, and I should have fought him, I know, but I was already feeling like I’d ruined everything by being too much that night, so I thought that leaving was the best option,” Harry explains. Louis is letting him speak, though he looks like he wants to interrupt. “I didn’t want to leave, and if I’d have had a single clue that you were about to start your heat, I would have snapped Zayn’s neck if he’d tried to make me go, but I thought you’d be angrier at me for hurting him than you would if I just left. So I made that choice, and I regretted it. I still do.”

Louis lets out a groan. “God, I’m going to kill that stupid knothead. He knows how I feel about you!”

Harry shrugs, feeling a little bit smug about that fact. “He thought I was using you for sex. You thought that too, remember?” 

“I only thought that because you left!” Louis whines. “I trusted you, I never at any point thought you were using me. If anything, I thought I was using you , because you didn’t know how I felt and I seduced you.”

Harry knows that feeling. It’s the guilt he’s felt underlying this whole thing, the feeling that he’s getting too much out of this arrangement and Louis doesn’t know. 

They really are idiots.

It settles over him then. They’re both in love with each other. This is real . Letting a smile creep onto his face, Harry steps forward to stand in front of Louis, taking the omega’s fidgeting hands and holding them in his own, pulling him off the bed to stand almost fully against him. 

Louis, who seems to still be reeling a little from it all, looks up at him in confusion.

“Sweet omega,” Harry says fondly, taking the omega’s face in his hands and wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. 

“What?” Louis asks carefully, searching Harry’s face like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even with his hesitance, a blush dusts along already-pink cheeks from the endearment. 

Harry smiles wider. “I love you,” he answers softly.

“You really do…” Louis says, half a question and half a statement. Harry nods. The omega lets himself believe it, Harry sees the moment he does, the smile washing the sadness off his face. “And I love you ,” he adds, wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle.

“We’re so stupid,” Harry says on a laugh, bringing his face to Louis’ for a kiss. It’s quick, but real , and Harry feels like he could die now and be happy.

“We really are.” Louis giggles, stealing another kiss. 

They kiss again, more smile than kiss. 

And then again, soft and slow.

And then so many more that they lose count. 

Eventually, Harry comes to his senses, pulling away quickly but still keeping hold of the omega in his arms. “Your sister is going to kill me the second I leave this room,” he says, slightly panicked. 

Louis laughs, light and melodic, and Harry can’t help but smile at the sound, all of his worries melted away.

“We’ll tell them the truth,” the omega says, stealing another quick kiss before continuing. “That we’re idiots and we’re working it out.”

It feels like the right way to describe them. Idiots, working it out. And Harry knows that they will. He’s prepared to put everything into this, more so than he ever has been for anything in his life. He wants this , he wants everything. And he can see now that Louis wants it too. He doesn’t get how he ever missed it.

“Shall we get this over with?” Harry asks, letting go of Louis to take his hand instead, threading their fingers together. “Before she breaks the door down and chops my knot off?”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Louis says, rolling his eyes, but his smile betrays him. 

Harry grins, leaning down to steal one last kiss, for good luck. “Let’s go.”

They leave the room, hand in hand, to face their lies together.

A year or so later

Harry wakes up on a Sunday morning in bed, alone, to the smell of baking. Not for the first time in their year together and surely not for the last. In fact, Louis has been baking every day for the past two weeks, passing baked goods off to anyone who will have them.

It doesn’t take him long to drag himself out of bed and find his way to the kitchen, motivated as always by the promise of seeing his omega. His omega who is dancing around the room, Christmas music on low, moving between icing one set of cakes and getting another out of the oven.

The alpha watches him for a while, unnoticed. He never grows tired of it, of being in love with him. They spend all day together at work, and then come home to Harry’s where Louis pretends he doesn’t live despite all of his belongings having their own place, and Harry does not ever tire of spending time with him. The few times that Louis has gone home for the night, they’ve both hated it immensely. Perhaps it’s codependency, but neither of them seem to care, so he’s happy to keep soaking up every Louis-filled day he gets. 

Halfway through icing a cupcake, Louis turns around, frowning, and then lights up when he sees Harry standing there. “Do you not get tired of creeping up and staring at me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Quite literally never,” Harry answers, strolling over and wrapping his arms around the omega from behind, peeking over his shoulder at the cupcakes. They’re chocolate, topped with white icing and pretty little snowflake sprinkles. “These look good, baby.”

“Eyes off,” Louis warns, going back to piping as if he hasn’t got Harry attached to his back. “These ones are for Zayn.”

Harry groans, nipping at Louis’ neck. “Now I definitely want to eat them.”

Zayn is still somewhat of a sore spot for the both of them. Harry hasn’t spoken to him since the dreaded morning after, but the other alpha and Louis had mended their friendship quicker than Harry would have liked. The only progress that has been made in somewhat ensuring a chance of a middle ground for them in the future is Zayn unblocking Harry on instagram. Though they haven’t quite progressed to a follow, and Harry still doesn’t know why he was blocked in the first place, but Louis’ twitchiness whenever he brings it up makes it seem like the omega had something to do with it.

So Harry, because he’s a grown man, has forgiven Zayn for that , but not quite for kicking him out of their house. 

Maybe one day he will be able to think of the other alpha without wanting to kill him a little. For now, he gets his feelings out in snippy little comments but otherwise supports Louis’ desire to continue their friendship because he’s a good alpha, and a good boyfriend, and Louis is more important to him than petty disputes.

Louis and Victoria, on Harry’s side of besties with an ex , are frighteningly good friends. Harry actively tries to keep them apart because any time they get together he fears for both his life and his balls.

“Oh, shush,” Louis says. “There’s a batch of red velvet in the oven for you.”

“Hmm, okay, I guess I can part with these ones,” Harry heaves out with a put upon sigh. 

Louis laughs. “You are so annoying,” he tells him, putting the piping bag down and turning in his arms to get a proper hug, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. “I still need to bake a christmas pudding for the work party, and we need to go to mum’s for dinner this week because she sent me about fifty texts for missing out last week.”

“I know, she sent me a bunch as well. I didn’t tell her that it was your fault for wanting to be knotted twice that morning and not being able to walk after. You’re welcome.”

The omega glares at him. “I’m pretty sure that was your fault,” he throws back.

“How so?” 

“For talking about knocking me up! You know what that does to us both.”

Harry grins lecherously, crowding Louis back against the counter. “We could try again now, if you want?” 

“The cakes,” Louis says as an answer, though it’s just breathy enough that Harry knows it’s a tempting offer.

“After?” Harry asks.

Louis groans. “We really have to go for dinner today, Alpha.”

Not fair. Louis knows that he’s half hard the second the omega uses that word. “And you think that calling me alpha is going to get us out of here any quicker, sweet omega?” 

Smirking, Louis swipes out from Harry’s hold and goes over to the oven to check on the cakes, leaving the alpha bereft. “Maybe, Alpha , we don’t have to try anymore,” he says, shutting the oven door and turning to Harry with an unreadable look on his face, somewhere between excited, smug, and scared.

Harry’s brain short circuits. “No,” he gasps.

“Yeah,” Louis says, taking a tentative step closer like Harry is a scared animal. “I tested this morning. I think, maybe, all the baking has sort of covered the changes in my scent. I don’t even know why I tested, I just had a feeling. But it’s okay, if you don’t want it, we can figure something out. I know it’s sort of soon, and I know all the breeding talk is just a bedroom thing, and I—”

Harry stops his increasingly-anxious rambling with a hand on his stomach, feeling the soft swell that’s always there but feels different now, just slightly. “Omega,” he whispers, trying very hard not to cry.

Louis looks up at him with watery eyes. “It’s okay?” he asks.

“It’s more than okay,” Harry answers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. And then another, for good measure. “It’s perfect.”

“Really?” 

“You’re perfect.”

“I know we’re not bonded, and we don’t really live together, but we can make it work, right?” Louis asks, fiddling with the hem of Harry’s t-shirt.

And Harry smiles, because he has plans . In fact, Louis’ entire family is currently setting up his proposal right now, turning his childhood home into a romantic vomit of fairy lights and rose petals. Exactly what Louis has been telling him he’d like one day for the past six months. And Harry has spent the last month setting up house viewings closer to Louis’ family, each house specifically chosen for their ability to be turned into a family home, with a garden big enough for the children to play in and enough rooms for as many pups as they want. 

“We can make it work,” Harry answers simply, smiling at his omega.

Louis nods, finally allowing the tension to seep from his body and curling into Harry’s warmth, sagging in relief and cracking a smile. Harry wraps an arm around him, holding him close, the other hand keeping place firmly on his stomach, where their pup is growing. 

“We can,” Louis affirms, placing a hand over Harry’s, a silent promise.

They can. And they will. Together.

Always together.