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Louis should’ve said fuck it this morning and worn the spiky platform shoes Zayn joke gifted him a year ago to his first day of college. If not for the general badassery, then for the more practical use of being able to actually see over a flood of bustling students.
The noise of hundreds of college kids ranting about parties or coursework was quickly proving to be overwhelming to Louis; he had figured out it was much more stress-free to walk from place to place with his headphones in after his first class finished. Sadly, even the melodic sound of the latest Arctic Monkeys album does nothing to help him find the Science building.
He turns up the volume when the outside noise gets louder with what seems to be a group of rowdy frat boys passing him and fumbles with the papers in his hand until his schedule is front and center. Surely the school has included some form of directions or even a simple map at the very least so he can stop feeling like such a lost child.
Just as he thinks he’s found a diagram of the university, he collides with something very tall and broad and strong and please don’t tell him he’s ran into a fucking pole in front of everyone on his first day.
“Shit! Oh my God, I’m so sorry, are you alright?”
Perfect. Not a pole, but a person. He’s not sure which is worse.
He groans and squints at the feet of whoever he’s bumped into. All he sees is a worn pair of tan boots that lead up into a pair of long, long legs. He sits up, sighing, and rubs at his eyes; there’s a hand in front of his face so he grabs it and allows this stranger to help him up.
He blinks once, twice, and can’t believe his bad fucking luck, because of course he slammed his entire body into a pretty stranger. Not only that but—he smells the air once to confirm his suspicions—a pretty, sweet-smelling, alpha stranger. Fantastic.
Pretty stranger opens his mouth. “I didn’t concuss you, did I?”
Louis frowns, confused, until he remembers that this alpha also asked if he was alright to which Louis still hasn’t responded. “No! No, I’m fine. A little dizzy, maybe, but. Not concussed, for sure.”
“Oh, thank God,” the boy says with a breath of relief. “I shouldn’t text and walk. I swear I can’t multitask for shit. I’m so sorry for knocking you down.”
“I wasn’t really watching where I was going either,” Louis interjects, looking down to collect the things he’s dropped, but the stranger already has them in hand and holds them toward Louis with a half-smile. “Not your fault.”
“It felt like you hit pretty hard,” Stranger adds with a guilty look. “Fuck, I feel awful. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Louis smiles kindly to further convey his point. “I’m fine, thanks.” He pauses, remembering what caused their collision to begin with and bites his lip. “Actually, since I’ve got you here, do you know how to get to the science building? I’ve got class in ten minutes.”
“Professor Greene?” Stranger asks. Louis nods, to which stranger huffs. “That’s where I was headed. Sucks that we all have to take the Gen Ed shit.”
Louis drags his lower lip between his teeth before turning his mouth up into a shy smile. “Part of my minor in astronomy, actually,” he admits sheepishly, doesn’t want to risk turning off this hot stranger by being a fucking nerd.
The boy raises a brow and gives Louis a charming grin. “A science nerd?” he questions, causing Louis’ heart to beat nervously but there’s no hint of mockery tainting Stranger’s tone. “Good that I bumped into you, then. I’ll be begging for help with everything in that god forsaken class.”
Louis checks the time on his phone. Seven minutes. “I’d like to get to that god forsaken class on time, please.”
Stranger seems to snap out of it and begins walking while Louis trails at his side. “Sorry.” He lessens his strides once he notices Louis struggling to keep up for which Louis is thankful. “Is it possible for me to get your name, even though I knocked you down and possibly made you late for class?”
Louis hums. “Only if I get yours first.”
Stranger grins once again, effortlessly charming with every move. “I’m Harry.”
Louis tucks away the information in his brain—Harry. A fitting name, he thinks. “Louis.”
Harry nods silently. “Nice to meet you, Louis. Hopefully I can make up for fucking up your day sometime throughout the semester.”
Somehow, the semester seems to turn a bit brighter in Louis’ head.
~~~
Louis finds himself replaying his and Harry’s unconventional meeting over and over in his head for the rest of the day.
It’s just that Harry had been so nice and tall and attractive and his smell—Louis takes his suppressants everyday for the sake of not getting distracted by any nice smells or giving off too much of one himself, yet Harry’s scent had infiltrated his brain even after they said their goodbyes after class. Part of him wants to chalk it up to the fact that he had literally slammed his face into Harry’s chest so of course he had scented him much stronger than any other alpha around the university, but a different, more omega-driven part of him likes to imagine it’s something else.
The rest of the week doesn’t go any more smoothly—more often than not, he finds himself subconsciously worming his way closer to Harry while the professor drones on. He feels like he’s not the only one to experience as much either, because Harry seems to have a gaggle of people around him at all times hanging onto his every word. He guesses Harry was born with the charm he oozes, yet Louis doesn’t feel jealous so much as he does a want to be in his circle.
He tries to keep to himself the first Monday of the following week. He’s only just begun his college education and he really can’t afford any distractions, even if those distractions come in such a beautiful package. He’s here to get a degree, and maybe once that’s sorted, a mate can slide into the picture.
“Louis!”
Louis jolts from where he’s had his pen racing across his paper to find the source of his interruption none other than Harry, of course, looking just as bright and beautifully dimpled as before. “Harry.”
Harry flashes a grin in his direction and gracelessly plops into the seat next to Louis’. “So, it occurred to me that I’ve still not done anything to make up for ruining your first day.”
Louis’ lips twitch up without his say-so; he keeps his pen scribbling uselessly on his paper as he mumbles, “I wouldn’t say you ruined anything.”
Harry simply shrugs his shoulders. “I did something that had a negative effect on you and I need to make it up to you before you get all resentful. I can’t chance you hating me. I really don’t like it when people hate me.”
Louis wrinkles his nose, tapping his pen against the desk in front of him pensively. “You’re not running any risk of me hating you. Promise.”
At this, Harry lets out a shake of his head. “You’re making it very difficult to invite you to a party, you know.”
Hmm. “A party?’
Harry nods enthusiastically, somehow looking innocent and bubbly while also maintaining his typical alpha-like mannerisms. “Friday night, Alpha Sig house.”
Louis wasn’t too keen on fraternities, mostly because he had no interest in joining one, but he was pretty sure he had heard that specific title around the school a few times. “Isn’t that the all-alpha frat?”
“It is,” Harry confirms. “I promise we’re not as bad as that sounds.”
It seems so clear then that Louis isn’t sure why he didn’t realize sooner that Harry is an obvious frat boy. It made sense—the charm, the good looks, the constant good time surrounding him. That was the way they seemed in the movies, at least, and Harry fit the bill to a tee.
“I’m not sure that’s the greatest idea for me.” He gestures to the pen in his hand and a stack of books next to him. “Lots of work to do. I’m already easily distracted.” By Harry, for example.
“Hmm. I see.” Harry nods. “Then how about a cup of coffee? On me.”
Louis tries not to let the hitch in his breath go noticed. Still, he’s a little caught off guard because that sounds like a could-be date. God. He does his best not to sound embarrassingly excited. “Um. Yeah, that could work.”
This seems to satisfy Harry, who sits back with a smile. “How’s eight tomorrow?”
“Perfect.”
Harry responds with an award-winning, bright-eyed kind of expression that Louis can’t help but mirror at the sight. He expects Harry to get up and go back to his usual seat now that they’ve sorted out a plan, but he stays put for the duration of the class and doesn’t leave the room until he makes sure Louis has his number.
Louis tries not to let it go to his head.
~~~
He elects not to go for his usual date outfit, if only because it consisted of a pair of extremely tight jeans that he would not be comfortable with squeezing into before 8:00 AM, or wearing for the rest of the day after. Instead, he wears a pair of more bearable pants that still hug his curves just enough and the bright blue shirt his mother always swears brings out his eyes. He slings a jacket on over top because he’s always prone to the cold before he tosses his bag over his shoulder. He takes one look at himself in the mirror with a smile and heads out the door with a renewed pep in his step.
Harry had instructed him to head to the campus coffee shop via text last night, so Louis checks the little map he’d managed to snag from the help center and finds the place with a whole two minutes to spare.
The place isn’t small, but it isn’t huge either, so Louis figures he won’t have any trouble picking Harry out of what little crowd there is.
His eyes scan the room until a hand in the air catches his attention; it’s Harry waving him over. Louis nods to let him know he’s spotted him and guides himself through the floor until he makes it to his table.
To discover Harry isn’t alone.
There’s a brunette beside him that undoubtedly looks the part of Alpha without Louis smelling the air to confirm it, and a smaller, seemingly softer boy next to him. They greet Louis with a smile while Harry presents the chair beside him and gestures for Louis to sit.
He supposes that counts for something. Even if Louis feels like a bit of a fool.
“Hi,” he says quietly, adjusting his shirt for a moment out of nerves. He attempts a joyful expression, maybe laying it on a little too thick just to make sure none of his disappointment shows. He shouldn’t even be disappointed anyway. It’s not like Harry ever called this a date. If anything, it’s himself he should be upset with for assuming and getting himself all worked up for nothing.
But. It’s fine. Louis will just stick to his plan. School first, mate later. Or whatever.
“Morning,” Harry says warmly, voice still sleep-rough. “I didn’t get your coffee yet because I was afraid of ruining your order.” He makes to get up before Louis can stop him. “Come on, can’t sit and talk if you don’t have your drink to wake you up.”
Louis looks at the two boys at the table with him who are still eyeing Louis like they’re speculating; leaving with Harry is definitely the better option than sitting here with curious strangers.
He leaves his bag by his seat but keeps his jacket on, crosses his arms over his chest to keep his hands warm. “Not a morning person?”
Harry shrugs. “I’m a routine person. Still haven’t gotten used to waking up so early yet.” He smiles. “Living under the same roof as a bunch of noisy alphas who think staying up all night is a good idea doesn’t much help either.”
Louis nods once and tilts his head back toward their table. “Some of your frat brothers?”
“The big one, yes. Liam. Smaller one, Niall, acts about as reckless as an Alpha, but he’s just a rowdy beta. Always at the house, though, so he might as well be.” They take a step forward as the line shortens. “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to introduce you to some new people.”
Louis furrows his brows. “Insinuating I don’t have any friends?”
Some coffee dribbles down the corner of Harry’s mouth as he splutters. “Well. No. I just know you keep to yourself in class.”
Louis laughs and shakes his head. “In our class, yes. Much more room for talking in the fashion courses I take.”
It’s Harry’s turn to grow confused. “I thought you were doing science?”
“Minoring in astronomy,” Louis corrects him. “My major is in Apparel and Textile Design.”
Harry hums once. “Forgive me, but those two things don’t seem to have any middle ground.”
Louis shrugs, his head swaying from side to side. “I’m keeping my options open.”
A nod. “Smart. I’m doing something similar but more in case one falls through, I’ve got something else to work with.” He smiles. “A Peace and Conflict Studies major, and a Music minor.”
Before Louis has the chance to question him about either one of those things, the barista is beckoning them forward. Louis rattles off his order—“Just tea, no sugar, thank you,” to which Harry looks appalled—and allows Harry to lead the way back to their table with mug in hand.
“So,” Harry begins once they’ve taken their seats. “Niall, Liam, this is Louis.”
Louis remembers what Harry told him before—big, Liam, small, Niall—and nods his greeting to the two of them with a smile. Liam smiles, looking a little less brutish in doing so, while Niall quite brashly questions, “The one you knocked to the ground last week?”
Harry sighs. “Yes, Niall, I bumped into him.”
“For which he’s been forgiven,” Louis interjects, gesturing to his cup of tea before he takes a long sip.
“No wonder you went down so easy!” Niall exclaims, and Harry has the decency to look nervously in his direction at the words. “I know Harry is basically a big rock, but you’re small, too. Recipe for disaster.”
Louis has never taken kindly to jabs at his size—he didn’t know this Niall character too well, but he wasn’t going to allow his first impression of him to be a pushover omega. “I’m pretty sure you and me are about the same size.”
Harry stays quiet while Liam chokes up a little laugh. Niall, for his part, doesn’t look even slightly offended. “As a beta, that makes me universally attractive. Alpha’s like that I’m small, Omega’s like that I’m not a big scary Alpha but I can still enjoy being on top. My options are endless. A blessing, honestly.”
Louis is silent for a moment before he simply nods in reply; he understands what Harry meant about Niall, then. When he takes a glance at Harry, he’s giving him an approving look, so Louis figures he’s in the clear.
“And somehow you figure being a beta excuses you from learning manners,” Liam chimes in, pushing the coffee-soaked spoon Niall tossed onto the table back toward him.
“Why can’t you be as fun as your roommates?” Niall asks pointedly. “Your knot in a twist?”
“We have a guest,” Liam interjects harshly.
Harry smiles. “Maybe I should’ve brought someone else to meet you.”
Louis shakes his head with a laugh. “I’m still upright so they’re already doing better than you.”
“Hey,” Harry groans, “thought I was forgiven.”
Louis nods. “You are. Just a fact is all.”
At this, Niall tosses in a, “Don’t sweat anything, me and Louis are already gonna be best friends. Liam will be all better as soon as he finds someone to sink his dick into.”
Liam huffs, Harry frowns, and Niall looks more self-satisfied than anything.
Somehow, Louis doesn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable.
~~~
Over the next two weeks, things look everything but bleak.
Harry is the perfect combination of things in a human to keep Louis smiling, so their little friendship becomes effortless. He’s sure he makes Harry smile at least a little, which is enough to satisfy the eager-to-please omega in him. It takes no time for the disappointment he had felt at the coffee shop to wither away until Louis barely remembers he even felt it at all.
He’s managed to talk his way out of the few Alpha parties Harry invites him to; as much as he likes hanging out with him, there’s a difference in one Alpha versus even three, so an entire houseful of them makes a nervous shiver run up his spine. Plus, he usually does have coursework to do as he always tells Harry in his excuses, so it’s for the better.
Outside of all things Harry, his UNI experience is going pretty fucking great; his fashion courses interest him enough that it doesn’t feel like too much work. He immediately clicked with two girls on his first day—Leigh-Anne and Perrie, beta and omega, respectively—and they often talk much more than Louis can be bothered to, but it’s comforting to hear them drone on about their personal lives while he tends to whatever work he needs to get done.
But, unfortunately, their comfort with him obviously leads to nosiness.
“So, Louis,” Perrie begins on a quiet Wednesday afternoon, surveying two pieces of fabric in her hands with a keen eye. “Leigh and I are going out this weekend with a few friends, and we want you to come.”
Louis’ sketch stops mid-line as he looks up at her face that remains as innocent as ever. “Why?”
Perrie simply shrugs while Leigh-Anne drops the pen in her own hand to look Louis in the eye. “Because you don’t ever get the fuck out of your dorm. Frankly, it pisses me off.”
Louis huffs and resumes his sketching. “I’m sorry my personal life bothers you so much.”
He expects some form of an ally in Perrie, her being a fellow omega, but of course—“Doesn’t bother us so much as bore us.”
At this, Louis bites the inside of his cheek. “School keeps me busy.”
“That excuse isn’t going to work on us,” Leigh chimes in. She waves a stack of papers with a smirk. “Same classes.”
He sighs. “Where are you guys going?”
Suddenly, Perrie seems much more chipper. “It’s a bar a few miles off campus, not giant but not small enough that you suffocate. There won’t be many people there anyway since most will be at those Alpha frat parties Saturday, just a few of our friends and whoever crawls out of town for the night.”
Louis remembers Harry inviting him to a party this weekend, one that he described as ‘fucking insane’, so he figures they’re right and more people will go there than whatever bar they’re planning to go to.
And, he reasons, it’ll be a good opportunity to wear the ‘party’ outfits he had optimistically packed before he even set foot on campus grounds. He deserves a night of relief anyway. He’s earned one night of some drunken fun.
“Fine,” he relents, smiling only when Leigh and Perrie both offer him beaming grins. “I’ll go out, but I’ll only get reasonably drunk and go home at a decent hour.”
“Baby steps,” Perrie mumbles, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “You know where my dorm is, so meet us there at eight and we’ll go from there.”
Louis nods in lieu of a verbal confirmation and promptly returns to his sketchbook with a pleased smile.
~~~
His jeans are tight, his collarbones are out, his hair is perfectly tousled, and he feels fucking fantastic.
Perrie had given him an appreciative whistle when he initially showed up at her doorstep, and Leigh made sure he knew she thought his ass looked great with a passing spank when she made her way out of the bathroom. It made him feel that much more confident, especially when they offered him a pre-party shot before the rest of their friends—designated driver included—showed up.
They got to the bar in one short, music-filled drive consisting of some very loud yet enjoyable backseat karaoke from two of the girls Leigh and Perrie brought along. Louis considered joining in, but he didn’t want to risk screaming his lungs out before he even got a chance to party.
The club isn’t packed, true to Perrie’s words, but it still seems to be full of some intense partiers. Louis is sure the night will be fine so long as they keep to themselves.
“See,” Perrie mumbles, one hand resting on his shoulder. “Perfect for a night of unwinding.”
Louis hums and heads to the bar.
The first round of shots comes quickly and he downs them with difficulty, but the second round goes down with less of a hassle. He swears that it will be his last as he starts to nurse at a much weaker beer, sticking to the booth they found at the outer wall of the room as he sips.
He watches small hoards of sweaty, lustful people get all over each other with a curious frown. He’s not often went out on the party scene, half for a lack of interest and half from the horror stories he always heard from friends who would sneak out before they were of age. He didn’t think he would much enjoy it, but sitting and watching is another thing. He’s here, he might as well see what all the talk is about.
He’s greeted warmly by his group when he joins the dance floor. He smiles in their direction before he wrinkles his nose at the onslaught of mixed scents infiltrating his nostrils. He can’t tell what scent is coming from where—none are bad, per se, but it’s a lot.
He shakes his head, stops trying to differentiate the smells around him and tries to relax. He attempts to mimic the carelessness of the crowd which is much harder than it seems—eventually, after Perrie pops in and serves as a distraction, he finds himself letting loose.
As time goes on, a few noses end up along his neck—probably trying to scent out whether he was alpha, beta, or omega—and a couple of hands touch his body, but he declines every time and walks away before they can try and persuade him otherwise. If he keeps close to the people he knows, it’s actually not that bad.
He’s got his head tossed back in a laugh when a particularly amazing—and familiar?— scent makes its way to Louis. He’s not piss drunk, a delightful kind of buzzed at most, but he can’t for the life of him figure out where he’s smelled this heavenly aroma before.
He lets out a gasp when a set of hands hit his hips and interrupt his thoughts. The touch was gentle, but Louis flinches at the shock of it anyway. When he attempts a calming breath, he gets a much stronger whiff of the pleasant scent and hopefully decides whoever has touched him must be the source.
“Oh, jumpy,” comes a deep drawl that Louis barely has the wits to recognize. “Sorry.”
His head whips around before he has enough time to process and he comes face to face with Harry.
“Harry,” Louis says, doing his best not to mount him right that second. God, Harry smells so fucking good. How has Louis not jumped on him before? “You’re—uh, here.”
Harry hums. “Friends invited me,” he says, nodding his head toward a few people Louis assumes to be Alphas in the corner. “I’m a little upset to see you.”
His traitor of a heart plummets. “Oh?”
“What with you rejecting my invitations to parties, what was it, three times now?” He shakes his head. “Especially the one I invited you to tonight, but you claimed to be busy.”
Louis’ head feels fuzzy; maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t inhale Harry’s scent every few seconds, it’ll clear itself up. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I wasn’t planning on going out. I got persuaded.”
“No, it’s fine,” he laughs, “Guess I’ll have to work on my persuasion skills since they’re clearly lacking.”
He turns his head and gulps in some fresh air, finding the action to clarify his muddled thoughts. “You’re not even at the party. You invited me somewhere you weren’t even going to be.”
Harry looks like he wants to refute the statement but he bites his lip instead of offering an argument. Louis is just tipsy enough not to care. “Come on, I’ll get you a shot. Make up for it.”
Louis considers his earlier promise that he was stopping at two, but Harry’s bright grin easily convinces him otherwise.
He huffs. Harry’s persuasion skills are working just fine and he hasn’t a clue.
He doesn’t hear whatever Harry orders them, but it looks fruity and Harry quietly promises it isn’t “too strong” when Louis looks curious. He gives a countdown ending in a simple “cheers,” before they down them.
Louis ends up making a sour face despite his best efforts not to: when Harry laughs, he doesn’t seem to be making fun so Louis lets it go.
“See?” Harry pushes their empty shot glasses toward the bartender and shakes his head when he offers a refill. “All forgiven, right?’
Louis blinks once, twice, and smiles. “I suppose.”
It manages to bring Harry’s dimples out, and before he can get out what’s probably going to be an embarrassing compliment toward them, a hand latches onto his arm.
“Louis,” chimes an inebriated Perrie, her hold not loosening. “We’re going. Jade, she’s—” A bubbly laugh. “—so drunk. Fucking gone. Gotta get her back so we can lecture her in the morning about limits.”
Louis can’t help but laugh at the way Perrie’s going about explaining, covering his mouth as he feels the beginnings of an intoxicated flush rush to his cheeks. He’s got to go, then, of course. But—first.
He looks to Harry with a frown, apologies for rushing out on the tip of his tongue but Harry interrupts. “Go on, it’s fine. At least we got in a shot.’
Both hands clutched dramatically to his heart, he says, “I’ll cherish it forever.”
He grabs onto the hand Perrie still has on his bicep and starts toward the door, finding their way through the bar with as much difficulty as one could expect considering the floor is crawling with drunken people out the wazoo.
Once the tipsy Jade comes into view cradled to the chest of a girl Louis doesn’t recognize, he makes a beeline for the car.
Until Perrie’s hand stops him again.
He looks back, a little annoyed, and gives her a look that says spit it out.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, “but I did just cock block you from Harry Styles?”
Louis books it to the car and hopes Perrie is too drunk to remember this tomorrow.
~~~
“Get the fuck up and greet me properly.”
Louis squeezes his eyes shut and hope he’s hearing things. He knows he hasn’t brought anyone home as he’s been too busy moping about one alpha only, so the distinctly deeper voice floating through the room had better be something from his lust-driven imagination, or else he has an intruder.
“Louis.”
That was absolutely closer to him than before; Louis throws the blanket off himself and raises his hands into a fighting stance—probably unintimidating considering his fluffy pajama pants and bedhead, but a fighting stance nonetheless.
“Gonna beat me up?”
Louis blinks his eyes, eyebrows furrowed quizzically because he knows that voice.
“Zayn!” He shouts, abruptly sitting up and tossing his arms around him. “You’re here!”
“Told you I would be,” Zayn responds, hand cradling the back of Louis’ head. “Tried texting you a million times. I waited outside for ages, luckily some blonde stopped by your door and let me in. She says she’ll come back this afternoon, by the way.”
Louis nods—it must’ve been Perrie as they did have some coursework they agreed to go over together, and she’s probably gone and gotten an overactive imagination about a boy waiting at his door. But. Later. Because right now he has his best friend to worry about.
“Can’t believe you actually made it here before I woke up,” he whispers, rubbing away the sleep in his eyes. “That must be some sort of record.”
Zayn doesn’t respond to the light-hearted jab, instead standing up and away from Louis’ bed. “We’re going to go out for brunch,” he says, “but you’ll have to pick the place since I don’t know what’s good.”
Once Louis has been persuaded up and out of his bed then into some decent clothes, they make their way to the little campus coffee shop. Zayn spends the entire walk quizzing Louis on his university life, his friends, his classes, jokingly asks if there are any assholes he needs to take a whack at—the usual. It only takes a five minute walk for Louis to feel comfortable the way he always used to when he and Zayn would do this back at home.
It’s easy to get caught up in relaying stories to him plus listening to Zayn’s own—so caught up he doesn’t notice the scent of a familiar alpha coming to greet him at the doors of the coffee shop until he’s walked right into him.
“Hey,” he hears. He looks up in time to catch Zayn shoving at the chest he had just slammed into—Harry’s chest. “The sea’s not gonna part just because you’re an alpha, so watch it.”
To his credit, even as he’s stumbling back a step from the force of Zayn’s little push, Harry doesn’t look even remotely annoyed. “I’m so sorry, Louis! Are you okay?”
Looking from the face of his best friend to the face of his… whatever Harry is, he notices Zayn’s angry brows furrowing up in confusion whilst Harry’s expression remains concerned. Louis puts a hand to his stomach and laughs. “We’ve got to stop bumping into each other.”
“I swear it wasn’t intentional,” Harry clarifies, mouth smoothing out into a soft smile at the assurance that Louis is okay. “I thought you saw me coming, but you just kept walking and—well, I was in your way.”
“No harm done.” Louis’ eyes shift to Zayn. “Unless you count upsetting poor Zayn.”
Immediately, Harry turns his body toward him. “I’m sorry, Zayn. I wasn’t expecting the sea to part.”
Zayn gives him a quizzical once over. “You run into Louis often, then?”
“Never intentionally,” Louis interjects, pinching Zayn’s side so he’ll calm it. “And this is only the second time. I’m fine.”
Zayn hums. “Okay.”
Harry still looks uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Zayn’s stare, so Louis takes it upon himself to apologize for him. “I’m sorry; Zayn’s always been like this. He’ll get over it here in a mo’.”
“It’s fine,” Harry utters, looking like it’s everything but. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him around here, actually.”
“I’m visiting,” Zayn tosses in. “And for the record, I’ll get over it when I see fit.”
To his right, Louis rolls his eyes. Harry catches him and lets a smile grace his features. “Right. Well, I am sorry and I hope I can be forgiven at some point. See you in class, Louis.”
With that, Harry’s walking out of the coffee shop in his worn brown boots.
“You’re such an ass,” Louis mumbles, leading the two of them to the counter. “Not every alpha is preying on every weak little omega they come across.”
“You’re not weak,” Zayn argues, preemptively digging in his pocket for some cash before Louis swats his hand and pulls out his own wallet. Zayn sighs. “I’m not an ass either. It was a reasonable reaction.”
Louis scoffs. “Just fucking order, dick.”
He listens to Zayn relay his ridiculous instructions for his drink before he orders his own, paying enough to give a generous tip. Once their cups have been retrieved, Louis heads for a small table in the corner and takes a seat.
“So the alpha,” Zayn begins, emptying a single packet of sugar into his drink and stirring it with a spoon. “You sleep with him?”
Scandalized, Louis gives him a look. “Don’t be so crude,” when Zayn raises an eyebrow, “No, I haven’t.”
“So you just want to, then,” comes Zayn’s response. Louis tries to glare at him over his mug as he takes a sip. “He seems nice.”
Louis huffs. “I never said I wanted to.”
Zayn conjures up a laugh. “You don’t have to. I have a sixth sense about you.” He punctuates the sentence with a sip of his coffee. “Like back in sophomore year when you said you didn’t like that Alex kid, then one day I walked into your room to see you face down between his legs. Reckon I scared the orgasm right out of him.”
“Keep quiet, would you? I go to school here, these people know me.”
“Oh no, you gave head once when you were fifteen, now you’re a pariah.” Zayn scrunches his face at his coffee, pushing the mug away with a dissatisfied frown. “What’s your plan of action with him, then?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Louis deadpans. “We’re friends. That’s good enough.”
Zayn stares at him for a moment as if he expects more words to fall out of Louis’ mouth. Louis doesn’t budge. Zayn sighs. “Okay. I’ll pretend to believe it.”
Louis lets his head slump into his hands, groaning. “I’m not in any position to talk about it.” He lets his fingers comb through his hair with a disgruntled frown. “I don’t know what exactly there is to talk about.”
At this, Zayn rubs his chin. “You don’t just want to fuck him.”
He can’t help but let out a little whine. “No,” he grumbles. “We’re friends and I can do that just fine, but sometimes a gust of wind blows his scent right in my face or he says something stupidly sweet and it, like…” a deep breath, “I’m so boned.”
There’s a pregnant pause that causes Louis to look up at Zayn questioningly—he’s one to get lost in his thoughts easily and Louis absolutely can’t deal with silence right now. Just as his skin threatens to jump right off of him, Zayn’s mouth opens. “I’m going to give you some honest advice, yeah?” Louis scoffs. Of course he wants advice; he nods for Zayn to continue. “Just fucking tell him.”
Before Louis can gain enough coherency to let Zayn know how much he absolutely cannot and will not go that route, Zayn’s elaborating. “I’ve been your friend since before your first kiss. I know how you are about this stuff and it always turns into this big waiting game with you. You psych yourself out and spend weeks, months hung up on a guy only for it all to explode.” He gives him a pointed stare. “You like this guy a lot, so just save everyone the trouble and go ahead and do something about it.”
Louis figures he should listen—Zayn is his best friend and there’s merit to what he says. He’s probably right, even if the thought sounds crazy and scary and like the last thing Louis wants to do. Even if it makes him a thousand different shades of nervous. Even if it may leave Louis lonely and depressed and every synonym in between.
God, Zayn’s really going to talk him into this.
“Fine,” he relents. “I’ll try.”
Zayn puts on a pleased grin. “Good. I promise to give you that jacket of mine you always steal if it doesn’t work out.”
Louis scoffs. He would get the jacket and more. That was already part of the deal.
~~~
Just when Louis finally feels the confidence to ask him out, Harry seems to drift away.
Not in a morbid sense, but more as if he wants his interactions with Louis much more limited to things such as course work. It surprises Louis the first day, but he supposes that after their interaction with Zayn earlier that morning that Harry’s in a mood. Which is fine, everyone’s entitled to be in a mood, especially after their friend’s friend accuses them of being a bigoted alpha douche bag.
When Louis informs Zayn of this, Zayn rolls his eyes and tells Louis to suck it up.
The next day, Louis plans to do just that. Suck it up, tell Harry he’s kind of really into him, ask him on a date. Maybe try for a kiss if he’s feeling adventurous.
And again, Harry shuts him out.
This time, Louis is upset. He knows he wouldn’t react kindly to the words Zayn threw at Harry if they were said to himself, but Louis also apologized. It wasn’t even his fault to begin with, but he gave Harry a genuine explanation that Zayn was always a bit of an ass. He knows Harry isn’t like that and he’ll scream it at Harry if that’s what it takes to get him back to his talkative self.
Things change when he goes to class the day after that—Harry seems to warm up a bit again, offering some friendly jokes with Louis that he missed terribly for the two days he went without them. It makes Louis feel like he should put himself out there again like he had promised Zayn, but he never finds the right time, too busy enjoying the happier Harry to much think about it.
When he heads to his fashion classes, Leigh and Perrie inform him that there’s another alpha party coming that weekend, taking place at Harry’s frat house. Harry has always invited him to these things in the past, so Louis figures when he asks this time, he’ll accept. It has to be easier to do something like this at a party, surrounded by people who aren’t focused on them but music and friends and alcohol, instead of the university buildings where he’s sure to be caught in the act. He would rather not have his possible rejection broadcasted to whoever feels like tuning in, thanks.
Friday lands the two of them sat going over notes while waiting for their professor to arrive because Harry is worried he hasn’t grasped the lesson very well just yet. Louis makes sure to assure him he’s got the basics down pat and that everything else just needs an extra push to fall into place, to which Harry rewards him with a smile.
“I need to get it all done today, if I can,” Harry clarifies once Louis has finished explaining it to him. “Gotta get ready for the party tomorrow. Gonna take tonight and most of tomorrow to get everything set.”
Obviously, at this point, Louis is expecting the next words out of his mouth to be his usual invitation. Instead, Harry mumbles, “So does this look right to you, then?” while showing Louis the paper he had been working on.
Louis puts on a smile and tells him yes, it does, right as the professor makes his way into the room and opens his mouth before he has a chance to utter another word.
That night: “I’m glad you’re leaving Sunday.”
Zayn uncrosses his legs, placing the book he had been skimming back beside him and sits up. “Didn’t tell him today either?”
“No, and I’m never going to now.” He kicks off his shoes, dropping his jeans to the floor because pants are for people whose lives are together. “He didn’t invite me to the party tomorrow and it’s all your fault.”
To this, Zayn scoots over to make room for Louis on his own bed. “Not inviting you to a party isn’t the end of the line, Lou.”
Louis can’t help but roll his eyes. “You don’t get it. He always invites me to the parties, ever since we first started talking. But then ever since you showed up, it’s like I repel him. God, you got confrontational with him the first time you met, something must have happened there. Or did I do something? Was it me?”
“Louis, babe,” Zayn interjects, hand rubbing soothingly at Louis’ side. “Calm down.”
“I won’t,” Louis mumbles if only to disagree. “I want to go home.”
Zayn actually laughs at that, shaking his head. “You don’t. It’s not a huge deal.” Before Louis can argue any differently, he continues, “Listen, I’ll go and apologize to him myself if it will make you feel better. Tell him I’m sorry I got the wrong impression, that he’s a nice guy who makes my best friend happy so he has my blessing to stop being up himself and be that guy again.”
“You can’t say that,” Louis huffs.
“I’ll reword it,” he deadpans. “Does that make it better?”
He begins to nod but stops halfway through. “What if it wasn’t you? What if I did something?”
“Then you can apologize, too.”
“I don’t even know what I need to apologize for!” Louis all but shouts.
Zayn seems ready to offer up another line of advice while Louis prepares to continue shouting until the feelings are all out, but both of them get interrupted by a knock to the door.
Louis looks to Zayn to make sure he hasn’t invited any guests up while Louis is away but Zayn merely shakes his head. Sighing, Louis puts his moping on hold and heads to the door.
Outside is a smiling Harry in a tank top so low Louis can see a slew of tattoos.
His willpower is being tested.
“Harry,” he says breathlessly.
“Louis,” Harry counters, his smile going a little lopsided. “Are you busy?”
He makes to tell Harry that no, he isn’t, and even if he was he would put whatever aside to see what this was about. Before he can, however, he feels footsteps creaking across the floor until Zayn is next to him and staring Harry down.
Harry frowns. “Oh. You are. That’s fine. I can—”
“He’s not,” Zayn interrupts. “I just wanted to apologize for the other day. Assuming alphas are trying to step all over Louis has kind of been my whole life,” he jokes, earning an elbow to the side from Louis. Zayn gives him a look. “But that’s clearly not you, so I’m sorry for implying it was. Louis has told me how great you’ve been to him since the semester started since then so, thanks, I guess.”
Once he finishes, Louis returns his undivided attention to Harry, who is now sporting a confused look. “Uh, no problem,” he mutters, sounding unsure. “But I guess I’ll head back now. See you Monday, Louis?”
“No,” Louis says as soon as Harry turns on his heels down the hallway. He scrambles out the door as Zayn begins to close it, making his strides as long as possible to catch up with Harry. “Come on, what did you come here for?”
Harry looks Louis up and down pointedly. “You know you’re out of your dorm in your underwear, right?”
“I don’t care,” Louis grunts.
“You sure your boyfriend doesn’t?”
“Boyfriend?!” Louis shouts. “Why are you on about a boyfriend?”
Harry comes to halt, Louis stopping a few steps behind as Harry turns toward him. “What, is he your mate, then? He seems nice. And he protects you. A good one, I reckon.”
Louis’ mind goes a mile a minute as he tries to decipher what Harry means. He thinks and thinks and thinks until his mind comes up with the most obvious solution—Zayn. God, Zayn. Harry thinks—and he—Louis didn’t even consider the way it might look to someone else because Zayn is Zayn. His best friend, not his—his mate.
“No,” Louis says, tired and almost annoyed. “No, no, no. He’s not—Zayn, yeah? He’s my best friend, been that way since we were young.”
Harry shakes his head. “Are we talking about the same guy? The one who got all over me for running into you, who’s been staying with you for the past week, the one you were just half-naked with in your room?”
“Yes, Zayn,” he reaffirms. “He’s protective, yeah, but that’s just how he is. He’s one of those people who are lucky enough to just travel before he decides on a university, so he stopped by to visit. And Christ, I’m just in my boxers, that’s hardly indecent.”
A mixture of emotions seem to fight for a place on Harry’s face, but disbelief appears to beat them all out. “But you—you always say no to alpha parties, even make excuses to get out of them, and I spent weeks flirting with you and… he’s a beta, isn’t he? I thought you just didn’t want an alpha, and then this pretty little beta shows up and he’s all over you and—”
Louis cuts him off with a humorless laugh, rubbing his temple with his fingertips as he lets the information wash over his brain. “No, no, that’s not the case. He’s spent his week here trying to get me to ask you out, yeah? And I was going to, but then you got all… icy. So I, like.”
“Oh my God,” Harry groans. “I told Liam about it, and he told me to come down here, give it one final shot before I decided to call it quits and then I saw you guys, and—I’m an idiot.”
A silence falls on the two of them as they try to process it all, because it’s a lot, that they were the only thing keeping themselves apart. Louis feels like the thickest guy in the world, but more than that, his little omega heart is fluttering as he remembers Harry admitted to flirting, that this pretty alpha was jealous because he thought Louis had someone else. God, his entire body feels like jelly.
“Can we—my room?” he asks, nodding his head back toward the door.
Harry licks his lips while his eyes stay trained on Louis’ before he ends up grabbing his small hand in his own larger one. Louis grins, turning back toward his room with Harry in tow.
He’s prepared to tell Zayn to make himself scarce as soon as he opens the door, but his room is already empty for which he’s thankful. That means he and Harry can get right to—well. He isn’t quite sure what. Maybe he should—
The thought doesn’t even get to finish before he feels Harry’s lips on his own. He sucks in a surprised breath but easily falls into the rhythm Harry sets. His arms come up to wrap around Harry’s neck and a pleased mewl falls from his own mouth when a hand lands on his hip. Another presses into the small of his back until his body is curved up into Harry’s.
He curls up into himself when Harry lets out a grunt, for some reason trying to make himself even smaller. It seems to do wonders for Harry, who groans even louder and begins directing their bodies to Louis’ unmade bed.
Louis falls to the mattress unceremoniously while Harry looms over him. The stare he has Louis under gets a trickle of slick to wet Louis’ boxers in an instant. Harry’s tossing his shirt over his head seconds later, and fuck, his body—he feels the slick coming more copiously as his eyes wash over every inch of newly exposed skin.
As soon as his top half is bare, Harry is positioning his body on top of Louis’ with his face buried in his neck. He feels Harry take a deep breath and starts scenting him back, groaning at the pungent smell of an aroused alpha mixed with Harry’s usual fragrance. It’s absolutely intoxicating and Louis doesn’t know how he hasn’t jumped his bones before.
“Are you wet?” Harry suddenly asks, eyes on fire as he catches Louis’ gaze.
Slowly, Louis nods and subconsciously spreads his legs a little further apart. He preens once one of Harry’s hands touches his inner thigh and whimpers when they don’t wander any further. Harry gives him a questioning look, as if to ask if this was okay, and Louis practically nods his head off.
Gently, Harry’s fingers make a trail up, up, up until he’s touching the slick that’s bled through Louis’ boxers. Louis groans as he ghosts his fingertips across the fabric until his thumb is resting right against his hole. He quivers once it presses ever so gently in, and it hits Louis very abruptly that this is happening.
“Harry,” he says, “Harry.”
Immediately, Harry’s head shoots up. “Yeah?”
Louis lets his eyes rake over Harry’s bare chest and abdomen to the hand currently between his legs to the concerned sort of frown on his face. He wants so badly to shut up and just let this all continue, but—
“This isn’t, like,” he shrugs, “a one-hit wonder to you, is it?”
Harry furrows his brows. “You mean a one-night stand?”
Louis scoffs. “I don’t,” he mumbles, because sex with Harry is surely more of a wonder than any form of stand.
It’s silent for a moment as Harry absorbs his response, but once he has—“The only way I’m not doing this again is if you don’t allow it.”
Louis can work with that. He can really work with that.
“I can work with that,” he repeats aloud. “You may continue.”
Shaking his head with a beautifully fond smile, Harry resumes rubbing the tips of his fingers over his hole, begins planting a row of kisses up Louis’ neck. It takes no time for his lips to reach Louis’ ears, and when they do, he nips the lobe between his teeth.
“D’ya think,” he hears, feels Harry breath tickle his skin enough that he shivers, “I could rim you?”
Fuck.
“Um,” he squeaks, voice going embarrassingly high-pitched, “yeah? Yeah.”
Louis felt insanely vulnerable in that moment. He had a thing for it, ever since he discovered it when he was fifteen. He spent the time during his heats that he wasn’t thinking about a knot thinking about a tongue up his ass, and no one knew that because it wasn’t something Louis felt should be broadcasted. But Harry—he opened right up with it, and that’s so. God, Louis is wet.
“We don’t have to if you aren’t sure,” Harry mutters, body rising up from between Louis’ legs and no, he does not want that.
“I want it,” he says, maybe a little too eagerly, but he’s beyond the point of feeling self-conscious. “Please, Harry.”
Seemingly soothed, Harry kisses his neck one final time before slinking down until his head his eye-level with Louis’—with his cock. Fuck. And then he’s kissing the inside of Louis’ thighs, up and up until he’s at the edge of his boxers. He looks up at Louis with a smile and begins peeling them off of his body with sure fingers.
Louis pants, can’t believe he was throwing a fit an hour ago thinking Harry didn’t want him, and now—
Now Harry’s digging right into him, fuck.
Harry’s tongue feels like velvet magic from the very first touch of it to his hole. Louis whimpers at the feeling, knows he’s getting even wetter at the feel. He almost feels guilty for the slick gushing out with Harry’s face down there, but Harry starts lapping at his hole like he can’t get enough of it and Louis can’t fucking breathe.
“Oh,” he moans loudly, squirming around on the bed until Harry stills him with a hand on his hip. “Fuck, Harry.”
The words do nothing but encourage Harry; he begins licking that much quicker, even dips the tip of his tongue inside and Louis is already going to lose it. His back arches up and he roots his hands in Harry’s hair, letting out an obscene sound when Harry moans against him.
He tosses his head back in pure ecstasy, only growing louder and louder as Harry continues eating him out like a man starved. He feels his tongue slip into him, pumping in and out and teasing pace. On a whim, he directs his gaze between his thighs. He can’t see anything besides his hands in Harry’s hair and his own pathetically hard cock just above, but something about the scene is still so hot that he grips even harder in pleasure. Harry tilts his head up at the feeling, lips swollen and wet—with Louis’ slick—and brushes a stray curl from his face. “You good?”
Louis pants. “Your mouth.”
The answer seems to satisfy Harry, who looks ever-so smug and kisses Louis on his v-line. “It’s good for more than just talk.”
Swallowing, Louis nods his head in the only form of coherent response he feels he can deliver. That’s all it takes for Harry’s head to disappear yet again, only this time he doesn’t feel a tongue at his hole but a finger and it’s slipping right inside and fuck fuck fuck.
“Harry,” he utters, sounding every bit as wrecked as he feels. He can’t stop saying his name after that, the word falling from his lips like a mantra as Harry slips his finger in and out at a steady pace.
When another finger joins the first, his tongue comes back in full force with it, licking between the two digits with vigor. Louis can already feel his thighs shaking, his heart pounding, his breathing going heavy because he feels so good and all he wants to do is submit.
“So close,” he rasps, breathe coming choppier than before, “so close, fuck.”
It’s like Harry pulls out all the stops at that point and Louis is sure nothing could come close to the feeling of his fucking mouth. The feeling builds up in his stomach quicker than he can process and he holds Harry’s head in place just to make sure it doesn’t go away, he’s so close.
“Alpha!” he exclaims, rocking his hips in time with Harry’s ministrations. “Alpha, I’m—coming.”
Harry groans so fucking loud at that, tongue still deep inside of Louis along with his fingers, and Louis can’t hold himself back. He starts coming, spurting onto his stomach as he whimpers his way through his orgasm.
Huffing, he raises his head up once he feels Harry moving. He watches as he props himself up on his elbows, his head downcast as he mumbles, “Shit.”
Louis blinks once, twice. “Don’t,” he attempts to begin, trying to catch his breath, “Let me… recover, and I promise I’ll take care of you, Styles. Free of charge,” he adds with a laugh.
Harry shakes his head and Louis starts to frown, thinking something’s gone wrong but then—“I’m taken care of.”
Confused, Louis sits up to gauge the situation for himself so he can figure out what the fuck is going on. Suddenly, Harry rolls to his side and—oh. Oh God.
“Did you—?”
He watches as Harry turns his head toward him with a nervous smile. “Knot in my pants? Yeah.”
Harry has—he’s knotted in his pants, and Louis. Louis caused that. His flaccid dick twitches in interest.
Now that he knows, he can sense the smell of Harry’s come in the air, and fuck if it isn’t a lot. The front of his pants are completely soaked through and there’s a small puddle on Louis’ sheets that he’s sure he should be cleaning up ASAP, but. Priorities. “That’s. A lot.”
The corners of Harry’s lips stretch a bit wider. “It was a knot.”
Louis lets his head hit the wall and stares at the ceiling. “You’re going to kill me.”
“That wouldn’t be good for either of us,” Harry responds, making to crawl up the bed before he turns his attention back to his pants. “I need to change, like, now.”
“Good luck finding something of mine that’ll fit over your monster cock, Alpha.”
When Harry chokes on air at the term, Louis makes sure to tuck the information away for later.
~~~
Zayn leaves on Sunday as planned, but only after gloating about helping Louis and Harry finally get together—and complaining that he had to vacate the room for a solid three hours when they did. Louis would typically have some shame about such a thing, but it just makes him daydream about how Harry ate him out, how he enjoyed it so much he knotted in his pants and he’s suddenly not so focused on Zayn anymore.
Because getting with Harry was really fucking great. Harry is really fucking great. Louis is really fucking happy.
He didn’t exactly go shouting about it to everyone even though he felt he had every right, but people still found out. He assumed it was due to his constant smile and the pep in his step and it was only after talking to Perrie and Leigh about it that his mind was changed.
“You reek of alpha,” Leigh commented when Louis brought the subject up. “Like, everywhere.”
“Not just alpha, but Harry,” Perrie elaborated, earning a nod of agreement from Leigh-Anne. “So much so that when you came in the other day, I was expecting to see him when I looked up.”
Louis doesn’t know what to make of the information. Of course he could smell Harry on himself because he did make an effort to get his scent on himself that morning before they both went to class, but he didn’t consider everyone else getting a whiff themselves.
He relays as much to Harry that afternoon in the comfort of his own bed. Harry only laughs and shakes his head, wrapping his arm that much tighter around Louis’ body. “At least they know you’re mine.”
That sentence was just begging for a lap full of Louis and a nice, long kiss.
A few more weeks passed, every single day as good as the last and Louis wasn’t sure it could get much better. He got to go to Harry’s dorm for the first time a week in, meet the rest of the alpha friends he had in his frat, get a high-five from Niall for “finally bagging Styles” and a smile with a request to keep him happy from Liam. It wasn’t a bad experience, especially when they christened his bed with a couple of blowjobs.
But as more time passed, the end of the semester drew closer which meant finals that needed to be studied for. Thankfully, they were able to maintain a comfy cuddle while reading their respective books and marking their notes.
“I’m gonna need help with this astronomy shit, babe,” Harry mumbles, pen hanging from the corner of his mouth. He removes it with a frown. “Gravity? Asteroids?”
Louis furrows his brows. “What book are you reading from?”
Harry scoffs. “Just go with it. Explain it.”
Giving his boy a confused look, he sighs. “Gravity is the force that pulls two objects together. It’s what keeps us all on the Earth. It’s—why are you smiling? There’s no way you need me to tell you this, you know what fucking gravity is—”
“No! No, keep going,” Harry interjects, stroking his thumb over Louis’ arm. “So gravity is what makes it possible for us to, I don’t know, fall?”
Louis shrugs. “I mean, yeah.”
“Oh,” Harry says overdramatically, nodding his head. “Well, if there was no gravity on Earth, I still would’ve fallen for you.”
It’s silent while Louis lets the words sink in, and then he blinks at Harry with a blank face. He can’t stop himself from smiling as he pinches Harry’s arm. “You can’t do that. You can’t ask me a question just to open the door for your own cheesy lines.”
Harry hums. “Too late. And you still didn’t explain asteroids.”
Narrowing his eyes, Louis mumbles, “Just give me the line.”
Harry lets out a loud breath, suddenly flipping himself so he and Louis are face to face. “I was going to tell you that you have a nice asteroid,” he says, emphasis on the first syllable of the word that he accentuates with both hands gripping Louis’ bum. “Pretty firm too, like I assume all asteroids are.”
Laughter falls from Louis’ lips without his consent, his hands coming to rest on Harry’s chest as the Alpha grins. “You’re so embarrassing.”
Harry begins pressing wet kisses up Louis’ neck, on his jaw, his collarbone, his face. “I’m just the right amount of embarrassing.”
He gives Louis’ bum a squeeze as he suddenly plants a leg between Louis’ thighs. Louis moans breathily, gripping onto Harry’s back when he suddenly nips him right underneath his chin. “I’m going to tell Zayn you’re objectifying me.”
There’s a wet sound as Harry begins sucking a hickey into Louis’ neck. His eyes flutter shut at the feeling of Harry’s lips, all semblances of an argument fleeing his mind at once. He feels content to just let the kissing continue, but then Harry’s pulling off of his neck and muttering, “You want me to stop talking about how pretty you are, baby?”
Immediately, Louis is shaking his head no and begging for the touch to come back, which Harry all-too eagerly grants. He feels himself become putty in Harry’s hands almost too easily but he can’t bring himself to do a thing about it.
“Saturday,” he hears, Harry’s breath making the hairs on his neck stand up. “I reserved us a table at that Italian place Niall recommended. Gonna take you on a proper date.”
Turning to plant a kiss on Harry’s cheek, Louis considers what he’s said. They haven’t actually had the chance to go on an actual date yet and the idea sounds heavenly. “Planned us a date, have you?” he says, burying his face in Harry’s neck to make him stop moving. “Good alpha.”
Louis didn’t think about the words until they were out, and once he realizes what he’s said he goes red. But Harry—Louis can feel a pleased sort of growl rumbling in Harry’s chest and the sound makes every omega bone in his body melt.
They both remain still, Louis soaking up the feeling of pure satisfaction while Harry seems to tense up behind him.
“So Saturday?” Harry mumbles after clearing his throat, sounding like he’s forcing the words to come out steady.
It hits Louis clear as day that Harry has a thing for being called Alpha. He saw it first hand when Harry literally came in his pants after Louis uttered the word, but he had chalked that up to a myriad of things—the heat of the moment, the release of everything they had been building up to for weeks, a simple case of over-excitement. But no. Harry Styles, who has treated Louis like a person instead of an object from day one, who acts like the exact opposite of a bone-headed Alpha who thinks with his knot, gets genuine fucking excitement out of being called Alpha.
“Saturday,” Louis agrees, and instantly begins thinking of what to do with this revelation.
~~~
Louis makes sure to drag Leigh and Perrie to his room on Saturday for a helpful closet raid. Normally he would trust his own judgment more than anything, but this is more than normal and he figures a second opinion won’t hurt.
“We’re going out, right? Like first proper date and all,” he explains, biting his nails as Leigh picks up a pair of tattered skinny jeans. “The place is pretty nice, too.”
“You’re gonna look good in anything, babe,” Leigh says with a smile, tossing a jean jacket toward Perrie. “I’m sure Harry will agree.”
“’Course he will,” Perrie mumbles as she tries to make sense of the pattern drawn onto a pair of Louis’ shoes. “He’s got two eyes. From what I hear, he’s pretty obsessed with you, too.”
“Well.” He chews the inside of his cheek as his heart swoons. “It wouldn’t be too forward of me if I tried to sleep with him tonight, would it?”
“God no,” Perrie interjects, shaking her head. “He wanted to have you that night at the club, I could feel it.”
“You’ve known him a while already, too,” Leigh-Anne pipes in, “Not that that has to matter.” She holds up a shirt for Perrie’s approval and receives a nod. Perrie holds up a pair of skinny jeans next to them before her and Leigh’s eyes meet in a smile. “There. That should do it.”
Louis surveys the outfit with a quizzical look before nodding his own assent. “I just don’t want to make a fool of myself.”
“Well stop thinking about it, yeah?” Perrie demands. “You’ve got a pretty worthy potential mate waiting for you; don’t keep yourself from having a good time by being a worry wart.”
“Right.” Louis picks up the clothing to hold in his arms and nods his head. “I’ll be breezy.”
“You’ve got a good hour to get dressed,” Perrie reminds him as Leigh-Anne grabs her arm and heads for the door. “Don’t style your hair too much.”
“Remember we’re only a text away!” Leigh calls as they exit the room and the door shuts behind them, leaving Louis with a perfect outfit and a hammering heartbeat.
“Breezy,” he mutters as he begins stripping himself bare. “Just be breezy.”
~~~
“Don’t you look ravishing?”
Louis somehow managed to get dressed and calm himself down within the hour before Harry was supposed to pick him up. Once he heard the knock, he opened the door with a smile plastered on his face to be met with the sight of Harry looking as gorgeous as ever in an unbuttoned floral shirt and a pair of tight, black skinny jeans that fit him like a second skin.
“Am I holding up a mirror?” Louis retorts, quickly pocketing his phone and his wallet as he shuts his door behind him. “I feel like I should’ve rolled out a red carpet.”
“The hot date is already more than enough,” comes Harry’s ever-so-charming reply, right as he takes Louis’ hand in his and walks them toward the exit.
Louis swallows and doesn’t do anything to disturb the hand Harry places on his back as soon as they get to the parking lot.
As Harry’s car pulls into the restaurant, after a full half-hour of car karaoke to the cheesiest songs Louis could find on Harry’s iPod, Louis feels a wave of calm come over him. The scene is verging on too good to be true, but he actually does have the hottest Alpha he’s ever seen in the seat next to his ready to take him on a romantic dinner date. He’s not sure the moment could be better.
The date goes perfectly—their conversations are as easy and seamless as they’ve always been, never a lull in their speech aside from the comfortable silences as they enjoy their meals. Louis teases Harry and gets a few playful jabs in return. They share bits of their food across the table, as flirtatious as ever despite the crowd around them.
It’s only when Harry goes pointedly tongue-first into the bite of risotto Louis feeds him that the laid-back atmosphere turns a little tenser.
Food isn’t sexy for Louis. Not even whip-cream covered nipples or a coating of chocolate syrup on a penis—he’s never been aroused at the thought so much as he has been stressed at the thought of cleaning it up—and definitely not garlic-heavy Italian food, but Harry’s tongue. That’s a whole new playing field.
Harry notices the sudden lack of movement from Louis’ end but doesn’t quite seem to grasp what’s caused it. “Did you get sauce on my face?”
Picking up his napkin to wipe around his mouth, Louis shakes his head. He wants to explain himself yet the words stay lodged in his throat. Instead, he makes a show of mimicking the way Harry had eaten the food Louis fed him and quirks a brow.
“Oh.” Harry still looks a little confused as he says it. “Are you—?”
Clearing his throat, Louis catches a waiter with a wave of his hand. “Two to-go boxes, please?”
The waiter smiles politely and leaves with a promise to bring two boxes back right away, to which Louis returns the expression. Once he directs his attention back to Harry, he notices the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows before they make eye contact.
Louis can feel it click in his head the moment he realizes he’s going to get Harry’s knot tonight. His mother had always told him he had a special omega intuition and for a while he believed it to be nothing but her trying to comfort him about his breed, but right now. Well. Louis has never felt it more.
“Oh, fuck the boxes,” Harry says, closing up a wad of cash inside of the booklet the waiter delivered their bill in. He stands up rather abruptly and Louis is quick to follow him, letting out a pleased giggle as Harry leads him to his car for the second time that night.
The ride back is much more nerve-wracking. Louis can’t stop bouncing his legs until Harry reaches over and rubs a thumb across his thighs. The action makes Louis want to both calm down and jump out of his skin.
Harry holds his composure every time Louis chances a glance at him. If it weren’t for the strong scent of Alpha arousal permeating the car, Louis might guess he was completely unbothered. But he can smell it, God, can he fucking smell it. One look at Harry’s face, the clenched jaw and unmoving eyes, gives way to just how affected he really is.
Louis only hopes he doesn’t leak slick in the passenger seat.
He’s panting by the time Harry parks but it doesn’t stop him from rushing out of his seat and grabbing Harry’s hand. “My room or yours?”
“There’s no way I’m letting an entire Alpha frat smell you right now,” Harry says firmly, feet already moving in the direction of Louis’ dorm.
Louis shivers and does his best to keep himself steady, even as Harry keeps his body pressed close to his own.
The door closing shut behind them is the final tick for the both of them; as soon as they’re sure that no one can barge in, both locks done up, they’re kissing and touching and stripping down like there’s no time to waste.
“So lucky I didn’t wreck,” Harry mutters against the side of Louis’ face, kissing the skin sloppily, “Your scent, babe—smelled so good I wanted to pull off the side of the road and get my fill then and there.”
Moaning, Louis digs a nail into Harry’s skin when he feels a nibble to his earlobe. “Could smell you, too. Swear I would’ve bent over the second you asked.”
That’s the end of that conversation—Harry groans at Louis’ admission and hitches his legs up, encourages Louis to wrap himself around his waist. Once he’s sure, Harry walks them toward Louis’ bed and drops him down just on the right side of rough.
Harry climbs over top of him, planting his lips at every inch of bare skin he can find along the way, until his face is hovering over Louis’ with a smirk. Their mouths meet in a heated kiss, with Harry’s hands on either side of Louis’ head. Only one of his legs rests between Louis’ own until Harry suddenly sits up and moves his body until both of his knees are settled between Louis’ thighs. Once there, he manhandles Louis’ legs completely apart and grins.
“Prettiest omega,” Harry says, voice terribly sweet, “Prettiest thing alive.”
He rests his hands on Louis’ v-line, letting his thumbs rub up the crevice where thigh turns into bum. Louis whines in anticipation, feels a good amount of slick leak out of him at the touch. Harry notices and tentatively runs a few fingers in the substance before bringing them up to his mouth and sucking them clean.
“Please,” Louis pleads.
One of his spit-slick fingers suddenly finds its way into Louis’ hole, the slide nice and easy due to the copious amounts of slick Louis is producing. Louis lets out a loud groan and grinds down to impale himself a little further on the digit. “Harry!”
The word encourages another finger to join the first, both working together to pump in and out of Louis. Louis begins panting as Harry’s eyes come to focus on where his fingers are disappearing inside of Louis. Experimentally, he scissors them as he drives them in.
Louis’ body jerks involuntarily because Harry has hit his prostate and, “Right there! God, Harry, there.”
That’s all Harry needs to hear before he starts fingering Louis with ten times as much intent, rubbing up the length of his thigh with his free hand while the other aids Louis in falling apart. Louis tries to catch his breath, the feeling so beautifully intense it has him choking on his own moans.
He can feel his orgasm getting closer and closer at an almost alarming rate, Harry’s hands showing no signs of slowing down. His gaze is determined as he lets a third finger enter Louis and pleasure him just as much as the first couple. He drills into Louis’ spot nonstop and Louis isn’t going to be able to hold back much longer.
“Stop,” he grits out, his entire body disagreeing with the word as he grinds back onto Harry’s hand once more. “Wanna come on your knot.”
Instantly, Harry’s fingers freeze. “Louis?”
Of course his fingers just have to stop right against Louis’ prostate. “Fuck, I—” A whine. “I want it. If you want.”
“I want,” Harry bites out so quickly Louis almost misses it. “Are you sure?”
Louis scoffs. “Wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t.”
Harry shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have chosen Italian if I knew tonight was gonna be the night.”
“I don’t care how garlic-y your breath is,” Louis reassures him with a smile, wiggling his hips to bring Harry’s mind back to the more pressing issue. “But if you could get your fingers out of me to make room for your cock, that would be great.”
Harry’s fingers disappear in a second and he uses the slick coating them to cover what he can of his giant Alpha cock. Louis’ mouth waters at the sight and he spreads his legs open even further as if to entice him.
“Please,” he whimpers, a plea that sounds like a final resort, and licks his lips in anticipation.
When Harry finally presses inside, Louis holds his breath. It’s so fucking much but too little but just enough and he can’t figure out what he’s feeling most. He’s never had anything fill him up quite as wonderfully as Harry’s fucking dick and it scares him how readily it makes him want to submit his body even more than he already has.
Harry, for his part, has tendrils of hair framing his sweaty face as he guides himself deeper into Louis. Every bit of him is emulating Alpha—Louis is always acutely aware of just how alpha Harry is physically, but this is another thing entirely. It makes a primal want fire up in the pit of Louis’ stomach.
He hears Harry letting out a deep, breathy moan as he bottoms out. Louis whimpers and closes in even more on himself as he clings to Harry’s body, all but begging him to keep going.
“So big,” Louis mumbles, head lulling to the side, “so big, Harry.”
At this, Harry’s face turns a mix of concerned and smug. “Think you can take it?”
Louis can’t bring himself to joke around, not when he’s got himself full of cock like this; he nods and grips Harry’s back even tighter.
Harry brackets Louis’ head between his arms and braces himself as he starts thrusting. The drag is easy but oh so glorious—Harry hits his prostate on the fifth thrust in and it has Louis melting into the sheets. He pants out Harry’s name like a plea, mind quickly becoming muddled as he can focus on nothing but Harry above him, Harry inside of him, Harry.
The omega in him is positively pleased, preening at every touch Harry has to offer. Harry, his alpha—he can’t help but mewl contentedly.
“Gonna come,” he says, voice sounding foreign to even his own ears. “Please, Alpha.”
Harry’s hips falter for a split second and then return harder than before. Louis starts whimpering as he feels his body slightly move up the bed, and then Harry is mumbling, “My perfect omega. Sweet omega, letting me help you like this, aren’t you?”
Louis can’t answer before his orgasm takes hold. He feels his cock pulsing between the two of them, groaning as he buries his face in Harry’s neck. He inhales the heady scent of alpha arousal that only gets stronger as he feels Harry’s knot start to fill him up. He finally relaxes his body, his biology telling him he’s satisfied since he’s got his alpha’s knot locked inside of him. He pants with his arms looped around Harry’s neck, sighs happily when Harry leans in for a kiss.
“Best sex ever,” he mumbles, shifting around so Harry’s knot rests comfortably inside of him. “How long do you knot for?”
“Hopefully forever,” comes Harry’s reply. Louis feels his cock give a feeble twitch at the roughness of his voice. “But usually a half hour or so.”
“Hm,” Louis hums. He smiles and plants another kiss on Harry’s cheek. “So, Alpha?”
Harry grunts. “Shh.”
Louis laughs. “We have a solid half hour to just talk, H. And I’m pretty sure you’re not going anywhere.” He strokes a thumb over his alpha’s cheek. “Come on, you clearly like it. Is it just a sex thing?”
A shrug.
“So an all the time thing?”
It takes a moment before Harry sighs. “I was always raised to believe an Alpha is a protector, a provider. I love that part of my gender,” he admits, “I love taking care of someone, being that for them—an Alpha. And I know it’s such a typical alpha thing, to react like that to the title, as if it’s about power. But, for me, like.”
Harry pauses and Louis takes the opportunity to help him out. “Makes you feel useful? Important?”
A smile grows across Harry’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, you got it.”
Louis nods. “Well, I have no problem indulging you,” he says, “Alpha.”
Harry laughs, nuzzling his nose in the hair behind Louis’ ear. “I plan on hearing that for a long time, Omega.”
The thought makes Louis’ insides warm.