Smile For Him

They stepped outside. The cold night air hitting their sweating faces. Harry breathed in the icy wind, the tip of his nose pink from the sudden freeze of the British weather. Everything didn’t seem to matter anymore. Not now he was standing next to the boy he craved for, beer in hand. Checking his phone it was only 11:46. Not even midnight. He had ages yet. God knows what else this night would bring.

The two stood in silence for a while, allowing themselves to think about what had just happened. That kiss. It’s what Louis had been waiting for since the day he met the younger boy. Of course he cared for the boy for other reasons other than sex, but there was no denying those pink lips were so entirely kissable. Always with that taunting rosy tint that just made Louis’ heart pound. It was then that he found himself gazing at them. Watching as Harry brought the bottle to his lips and sipped it politely. Everything about him was dainty...breakable. So intriguing. He could watch him all day. He really could. He took a large gulp of his own alcohol, already feeling buzzed. Those pink lips pulling into a drunken smile. Louis dragged his eyes upwards to see Harry’s own, staring back fully aware of what the older boy had previously been staring at. He was blushing himself. Such a school boy.

Their hands brushed again, both feeling sparks at the simplest touch. Zayn chose the moment to walk over, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. “Alright?” he said, holding another fag out for Louis to take. The boy was hesitant, wary of Harry watching, but took it anyway. He placed it on his lips, sighing mentally at the familiar place where the cigarette sat. A thumb sparked at a lighter, taking three tries to produce a flame. It was held towards Louis who gratefully hovered his smoke over the flame, enjoying the smell that entered his nostrils as smoke flew around his face. He took a drag, closing his eyes and taking a second to enjoy the bitter sweet taste in his mouth.

All the while a pair of green eyes watching. Surprisingly he wasn’t disappointed by the fact that Louis smoked. In fact he wasn’t surprised at all. He found himself expecting the older boy to smoke, seeing as so many others did too. He stared in fixation as soft lips pursed around the cigarette, the end lighting cherry red and Louis took another pull, his cheeks hollowing ever so slightly. A second later white smoke swirled in front of his vision as those soft lips blew it out. Smoking is bad. An idiot didn’t need to tell Harry this. But, what they didn’t tell him was that it could look so unbelievable sexy. The way Louis’ eyelids hooded a little in satisfaction.

“So, Harry. Enjoying yourself?” the Bradford boy asked. Harry blinked out of his transfixion and turned to Zayn. “Y-yeah. It’s uh...it’s fun. Yeah,” he cursed at himself for sounding like such a child...such a school boy. But Zayn smiled pleasantly and said back, “Cool. I bet you don’t go to things like this often, right? Don’t suppose you rich kids hang out with us types, eh?”

Maybe Zayn didn’t realise how offence it sounded. Or maybe it was because he just hadn’t known Harry long enough to understand how different the curly haired boy was to every other prat around town. “I wouldn’t know what they do,” Harry shrugged, taking a generous about of his beer. “I don’t have...” he paused, debating telling Zayn the truth at risking making himself sound more like a loser, “I don’t have any friends. Louis’ the only friend I have.”

Zayn just nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette and tapping it twice so ash fell to the ground. Harry would soon come to realise that Louis’ friends weren’t judgemental bastards. “That’s cool,” Zayn said again, not really thinking of anything else to say. He turned his attention to Louis who still had his eyes closed, smoke making patterns around his face. “But you’re uh...you’re okay right? I mean, you’re not uncomfortable or anything?”

Harry licked his lips, his head swimming and his tongue numb. “I think I’m fine. I just don’t do things like this. I’m a little nervous,” again, he drunk from his bottle. Zayn tilted his head, “There’s no need to be, mate. You’re good. We like you,” and with that he walked away, dropping his smoke and leaving it to die on the grass. Harry felt a hand creep up and grab his own. He’d know that hand anywhere. He smiled and entwined his fingers with Lou, glancing up at the black sky dotted with tiny stars, each one winking playfully. Louis turned towards him, cigarette hanging limply between his lips. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, pointing to the smoking object in question.

“No,” Harry said, his voice light. Just like his head. “I didn’t know you smoked though.”

“I don’t usually,” Louis said, taking the fag from his mouth and holding it between two fingers. “Only do it when I’ve had a drink. It’s too expensive to pick up as a real habit. Zayn’s bad enough. Three packs a day sometimes. Can barely pay his side of the bills,” Louis shrugged in a way that said it doesn’t matter, and dropped the cigarette to the ground. “Want to go back inside?” he cocked his head to the barn, where lights were flashing and the bass could be felt through their feet.

Harry shook his head no. “Let’s stay outside for a bit,” he took two steps away from the barn, indicating he wanted to walk. With a grin Louis followed, walking past people passed out on the grass, and past small bonfires that people were chatting drunkenly around. From two steps behind Louis could see how Harry was staggering. He was quite surprised that in the space of around two hours Harry had evolved from awkward, stuttering fool to someone who actually seemed quite confident. But, if his mathematics were correct this was Harry’s fifth beer. And for a seventeen year old lightweight who had clearly never been drunk in their life previous to tonight, that was quite a lot of beer.

They approached the cars. At least ten of them parked messily in one area. One, Louis recognised was Liam’s. Green and rather dented and scratched due to the countless times it had been rammed into in the pub car park due to drunken drivers. He could never afford to fix it up properly so the poor thing was always in a state of despair.

“What’re we doing here, Harry?” Louis asked softly , watching as the teenager stumbled amongst the cars, letting out a laugh as he banging into a wing mirror. “I just thought we could get away for a minute. It’s loud over there. It’s quiet here. Just you and me, like always.” The Doncaster boy had to shake his head, a small laugh escaping from his mouth. Harry was drunk. Oh, so drunk. Every word slurred, although it was obvious the young boy was trying his hardest to pronounce everything proper, as he had no doubt been taught to do.

“You want to be alone?” Louis continued to ask, sipping his near empty bottle. He was slightly buzzed, but no were near as drunk as the student staggering in front of him. He’d had enough experience with the stuff to be able to control himself. “Yeah. I wanted us to be alone,” Harry muttered a reply, coming back over to stand opposite Louis. The older raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk about what happened, don’t you?” Louis asked, not quite believed that their rough dancing had happened only half an hour before. He realised now, once he had cooled down that Harry might be feeling slightly uncomfortable with what they just did.

“Yeah,” Harry replied slightly dazed. “Is it always like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know. Hot, and sweaty and stuff.”
“What, dancing?”
“No...sex,” Louis choked on the beer he was currently slipping at the word that fell from the boys mouth. It sounded wrong. His deep voice drawing out the single syllable in a way that made Louis blush. “W-why do you want to know?” Louis spluttered a response. The entire while Harry wasn’t even looking at him. He was gazing at the floor, the sky, the cars, the fucking daisies.

“Because I was hot back there. When we danced. I kind of liked it. And...” he licked his plump lips, “And I was hot the night before, too. Really sweaty. My heart was...racing. It felt really good. Is it always like that? Is it always that good?”

Somehow Louis didn’t think Harry was talking about dancing. “What do you mean ‘the night before’?” red was creeping up his neck. He knew exactly what Harry was talking about. And he couldn’t believe it. He felt like he’d corrupted an angel. He imagined soft curls spread out on white pillows. Beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Those fucking rosy lips parted as he gasped short, hitched breaths. Naked...spread out on his duvet. Long, and slender. Toes curling, hand pumping...

Louis cleared his throat, realising Harry hadn’t answered. “What do you mean, Harry?” he looked up to meet vicious eyes. Lustful. A look he hadn’t seen and one that he never thought he would see. “You know exactly what I mean,” the younger boy said. His voice deep, but quivering. Although drunk he was still nervous. Not fully aware of what he was doing but aware enough to know he was being suggestive.

It took Louis all of his strength to not have the boy there and then until he had him begging for mercy. “I think you’re drunk,” Louis managed to stumble out, his words tripping over one another.

“I thought of you,” Harry spoke again. His voice so deep and fucking sexy. Louis’ eyes grew wide. His mouth opened, gawping and surprised. Harry’s eyes softened, his lips slightly parted. It was ridiculously teasing. Louis just wanted to push the boy to his knees and put those lips to good use...he couldn’t. Not now...not like this. “Is that normal? That I thought of you,” Harry continued to ponder, looking directly into Louis’ eyes.

“I-I...” Louis stuttered. How did this seventeen year old break him down into this bumbling mess? He hadn’t been in such a state since he was seventeen himself. That fucking look in his eyes made Louis blurt out, “I’ve thought of you too. Fuck, I have. It was so fucking...fucking...Harry, I-” he was cut off by a teenage boy pouncing on him. Wet, inexperienced lips attached themselves to his, and Louis staggered back in surprise.

Everything was not under control.

With a growl Louis pushed Harry back until he hit the bonnet of a car. His hands found bony hips and he lifted the boy up, sliding him onto the car where he sat, his legs foolishly wrapped around Louis. Harry didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, or what made him do it in the first place. Alcohol. It was all he could blame it on. He’d never felt so much fucking fire inside his body before. The entire day...his entire life he had been a quivering wreck. Nervous of everything around him...and now. Fuck it. Now something was starting to make sense...but it wasn’t making sense at all.

But Harry didn’t want to think of that now. Because all he could really concentrate on was the feel of Louis’ lips on his own. Clumsy and slightly desperate. Harry tangled his hands in brown hair, pulling at soft tuffs and enjoying the way Louis groaned.

Louis wished he was in control. He couldn’t ruin this. But this kid. This one fucking kid destroyed him. He was an animal right now. His fingernails clawing deep into the boys pale flesh, leaving moon shaped dents. He tasted like beer. And his jumper was wet with sweat. His face was red and flushing, clearly too hot. Louis stopped for a moment, lifting up the jumper slightly and cocking an eyebrow at Harry. The boy, still in a slight daze of drunken bliss sat up a little straighter and pulled away, allowing Louis to remove the jumper. He threw it carelessly to the ground. Louis took a moment to admire what he saw. Harry wore a simple white T-Shirt underneath, but he’d never seen Harry so bare. His pale arms skinny and weak had placed themselves back around Louis’ neck, while the white fabric clung to his sweating skinny body.

Louis latched himself back onto him, but not on his lips. He sucked on the side of his neck, just under his chin. He nipped at the skin, loving the way Harry groaned and bucked. His hands raked down the back of Louis’ T-shirt, making a deal of digging into his flesh. Louis could feel the younger boy’s heart beating so fast. Worryingly so in a way.

He stopped. Harry whined. The skin Louis had been attending to now red raw...contrasted against his otherwise innocent white skin. It looked like blood on snow...wrong.

“W-what?” Harry asked breathlessly, sitting up and inspecting Louis’ distressed face. “I can’t, Harry. Not like this. It’s not right. You don’t...you don’t deserve this.”

“Deserve what?” Harry asked, his words still slurring as he tilted his head in confusion. “You don’t deserve to be a quick fuck in a car park. You’re worth so much more than that. We can’t, Harry. Not like this. I don’t want it like this. You...you’re just so...” he couldn’t think of the words. He wanted to stay fragile, innocent, breakable...angelic. But he didn’t want to offend the boy. But the boy understood without words having to be said.

“Y-you...you...I’m worth more...” Harry suspected he wouldn’t have cried had he not been drunk. But he felt his chin wobble, and his eyes water...Louis Tomlinson would be the death of him. He couldn’t be real. Because perfect people didn’t exist. He’d lived among so many people who thought they were, with their big houses and expensive cars and beautiful children. But every single one of them was ugly...but Louis. He was so common. Nothing interesting really. But so perfect. So fucking perfect it should be illegal for someone to be so kind.

A rough thumb brushed a tear away. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. He placed his finger and thumb on Harry’s chin and tilted his head up. His eyes were red and his lips were swollen. Like a fallen angel. He really was. Louis touched his lips to Harry’s. Sweet, and short, and caring.

Things were moving too fast. And Harry was vulnerable. He wasn’t like normal people. He did what he thought would make other people happy. And he didn’t want Harry thinking that to make him happy he had to act this way. He was worth so much more than that. Harry Styles was worth all the fucking love and money in the world.

“You mean fucking everything to me,” Louis admitted. Surprising himself with his words.

“R-really?” Harry hiccupped. His stomach was churning, but not in a nice way. He tried to ignore the taste of vomit that was beginning to crawl up his throat. “Why?”

“I dunno,” Louis laughed, taking his hand away and taking one step back. “You just do. I’ve know you a week. A week exactly. And you mean fucking everything to me. So, don’t think you have to do something to impress me. When I look at you, Harry, I like what I see. And I don’t want that to change, okay? Don’t change for anyone. No matter what anyone else say’s. Promise?”

“P-promise,” Harry slurred. He heaved and Louis’ previously smiling face frowned. He sighed. “You’re gonna throw up, aren’t you?”

Harry only nodded before Louis pulled him down from the car and pushed back his curls as he decorated the grass with watery sick. Harry groaned and heaved again. His first experience with alcohol, and it hadn’t been a nice one...not that it would put him off. He’d just have to practice at keeping his alcohol down. After all, Harry was sure he was going to be invited to more of these parties.

Harry fell to the grass, his head lolling and his mouth tasting of sick. “Want to go home?” Louis asked. He was trying not to laugh. He’d experienced this more than once himself, and knew exactly how it felt. Harry shook his head violently, but stopped when it caused his aching head to hurt more.

Louis glanced around, thinking of what to do. He spotted Liam’s car. He smiled. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Harry just nodded, not really concentrating on anything apart from keeping upright. Five minutes Louis was gone, and all Harry could do was stare up at the sky and wonder why his head was feeling so heavy. He turned his head at the sound of running feet, and there was Louis, a smile on his face and car keys in his hand.

He unlocked Liam’s car and held one of the back doors open, signalling for Harry to get inside. Clumsily, Harry used his heavy limbs to climb into the car where he flopped across the back seats. Louis laughed and clambered in with him, sitting uncomfortably between the two front seats, facing the younger boy.

“Will you stay?” the drunk and sleepy Styles asked.

“Of course I fucking will,” Louis grinned, pulling back some of Harry’s curls so he could kiss him on the forehead. “I’m warning you now though, your heads gonna fucking kill in the morning.”

“It’s Saturday tomorrow,” Harry added randomly. His eyes threatening to close as he battled with sleep. “Uh, yeah, it is,” Louis laughed.

“What do you do on Saturdays?” Harry’s words sounded so tired. His mouth was dry and foul tasting. “Oh, you know. Eat, sleep, eat some more. Maybe have a wank if the guys go out,” Louis smirked, knowing where the conversation was going. “Want to do something?”

Harry only gave a lazy smile before passing out. Louis shook his head, laughing quietly at himself. “Fuck you, Harry Styles. Fuck you,” he mumbled before settling down himself. It was only a bit past midnight, but he wasn’t leaving Harry. No chance in hell. He didn’t care how much fun the guys were having, he was staying with Harry...even if he was fast asleep.