tied by miles [1. 2.] | harry/louis | NC-17louis and harry are on opposites ends and somehow they meet somewhere in the middle. loosely based off this prompt: i want louis knowing that he’s gay, but trying to hide/get rid of it, but having a crush on harry he can’t deny, and harry showing him how good it can be to get fucked.

3.

“what are you up to tomorrow night?” liam asks him one friday morning. they’re sat beside each other in physiology, chairs pushed close together while their professor drones on about something having to do with bio-molecules. 

louis’ chin is resting on the edge of liam’s desk, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head to shield his bedhead. he’d only gotten three hours of sleep that night and getting out of bed for a class at 7:15 was an entirely difficult task. he looks up at liam slowly, eyes heavy and drooping, and gives him a small shrug of his shoulders. “why?” he asks, his voice groggy and low.

“niall’s mate is having a party. you should stop by,” liam offers with a smile. his face looks bright and fresh and awake, like always. his smile is wide and louis contemplates whether or not he should smack it off him. it’s always a wonder to him how liam is always so happy in the morning.

“yeah, okay. i’ll go.”

liam’s smile widens and he throws his arm around louis’ shoulders, promising him a great time and a pretty girl.

**

and at the party, louis is bored and drunk and liam is sloppy and drooling all over his shoulder. niall is nowhere to be in sight, but he’s seen that redhead, ellie, a few times and she’s trashed like before so he doesn’t bother. there are hardly any familiar faces here, he wonders how half of these people even got in because they must not go to the school and they’re all shouting and pressed against each other and it makes louis uneasy.

he has a beer in his hand and he knows he’s not up to finish it so he places it in liam’s hand and closes his fingers around it for him. liam gives him a half ass, drunk thumbs up and louis chuckles to himself. he gives liam a friendly slap on his shoulder and stumbles away, zigzagging through the crowd, trying to find someone interesting or a way out. 

the music is loud and the beat is quite intimidating, pounding through his head and his chest and the fact that he’s drunk and everyone is starting to mesh together isn’t helping. somewhere along the way a curly haired blonde latches onto his arm and he smiles down at her, her eyes wide and pupils dialated. she shouts her name over the music, but he can’t hear her, so he just nods. he doesn’t really care, because he doesn’t want her, but when she kisses him, he kisses back and they stay like that for what seems like hours.

“louis?” there’s a voice behind him saying. at first it’s soft, but eventually it’s louder and louis can hear it right in his ear and he breaks away from the blonde to turn around.

it’s been three weeks since he’s seen harry last and he had almost convinced himself that he didn’t exist anymore and he wasn’t going to ever see him again. 

when he turns around, the curls and the green eyes are in his face again and that sunken, aching feeling in his stomach is back again and he feels himself take a step back. he looks good, harry, not to any suprise though. his hair is wild, a portion of his fringe sticking to his forehead from sweat, and his eyes are bloodshot and tired, but still as green as ever. he smiles his big, goofy grin and louis wants to punch him square in the jaw for it. 

“er-” louis sputters, glancing back at the girl who’s still pulling at his arm. “hey. hi. what are you doing here?”

“i don’t know, really,” he says, looking around. “i just sort of walked in. i’m with a friend.”

louis wonders if it’s a girl friend.

“me too,” he says proudly, nodding toward the blonde. “nice to see you again, man.” he holds out his hand for a shake or a fist bump or a brush of fingers, just something so he can feel better about himself when he turns to walk away.

harry’s eyes travel from louis’ outstretched hand back to his eyes and he just snorts. “see you, louis.”

the thing is, louis has never wanted something as much as he wants to pull harry against him and just feel the warmth of his breath on his face again and the soft curves of his jaw cupped in his hands, but he can’t. here he is with this girl, who looks around 16 years old if he’s being honest with himself, who’s willing to give up her whole night being a drunk teenager to spend it with him. and any 19 year old kid his age would take this as a great fucking accomplishment, but he looks at her and he feels nothing and he kisses her and he feels worse and she leads him away from harry and he wants to throw up.

**

harry finds him again an hour later.

his eyes aren’t that bloodshot anymore, but his hair is still wild and his grin is still big and goofy and bright. he pinches the side of louis’ torso, making him jump, and laughs when they’re face to face. 

“you smell like weed,” louis states with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“well i’d like to think so considering i just smoked,” harry retaliates.

“really.”

“really,” harry says and louis realizes that his hand hasn’t moved from his hip since he found him. “are you doing anything at the moment?” he asks, keeping his voice low and somehow still incredibly sexy. 

louis’ eyes flash briefly. “no.”

“do you want to?”

**

harry has weed. a lot of it. louis hasn’t smoked it in a while, but harry seems pretty keen on it, so louis watches. he pulls out a small, blue glass bowl and brings his to his lips. he lights it, the flame touching off instantly, and smoke floats up, enough to almost cover harry’s face. he waves it away with his hand and offers it to louis with a crooked smile and his eyes already looking droopy. 

louis glances around the room, only now realizing that they’re sitting in a bathroom. he wants to cringe, but he takes the bowl from harry and takes a hit, watching the pot molder into a dark, thick ash. 

“you alright?” harry snickers, gesturing for louis to take another hit. 

after what seems like two minutes, louis is stoned and harry is laughing at him for stopping mid conversation to stare at the spinning fan above them. louis wants to reach over and give him a wack, but his hands feel glued to his lap and even trying to move them sounds like too much work. harry’s laugh is loud and raspy, throaty, contagious. louis finds himself laughing with him. he laughs until his stomach hurts and his cheeks are tired and keeps laughing and it feels like he might never stop. 

when he looks up, harry is staring. his eyes are big and unreadable, but he’s smiling. that stupid, wonky grin that takes up his whole face and shows his dimple. usually, louis would want to rip his smirk right off, but right now it’s beautiful. 

“what?” louis asks, still snorting.

“nothing, just.” he shuffles foward toward louis, close enough so their knees are touching. “c’mere a second.”

louis blinks and the room is blurry for a split second. he does what harry asks and he leans forward, taking in harry’s scent: weed, alcohol and vanilla. 

“has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” harry murmurs with a tiny chuckle. 

“not really.”

“shame.” his hands are on louis’ face, one cupping his cheek and the other one moving his touseled hair out of his eye. “are you gone, louis?”

louis stifles a laugh as harry’s hand moves from his hair to his other cheek, his fingers chasing his jawline lightly. “a bit.”

“do you mind if i kiss you?”

“… a bit.”

harry exhales a nervous laugh and pulls at louis’ shirt, bringing him closer. he kisses him anyway, and his lips are chapped and rough, but his kiss is soft and gentle and desperate and it makes louis’ head spin. 

he convinces himself that him being stoned is the reason why they’re doing this and that it’ll be over tomorrow and he can forget it ever happened. but for now, louis wants more. he wants harry and harry’s hands, his eyes, his skin, his mouth.

“we’re in a bathroom,” louis says against harry’s lips, trying not to laugh again.

“i know.” harry stands, shaking his curls out. “stand up.”

louis looks at him, confused, but stands and follows harry into the last stall on the far left. he stares at harry with wide eyes, watching his every move as carefully as he can. everything he does is done so swiftly, so cleanly, like he’s experienced everything there is to experience and he’s just doing it over again. 

“i’m going to make you feel good, louis,” he promises softly against his ear. he locks the stall’s door and presses louis against it, his hands fiddling at the zipper on louis’ pants. when louis shifts uncomfortably, he whispers, “it’s okay. just be still.”

he slides louis’ trousers to his ankles and smirks at the sight of his red, checkered boxers and the blatant erection they’re covering. he gets those out of the way as well and breathes a long sigh when his eyes meet with louis’ cock, swollen and pleading. 

“harry-” louis starts to say, but is cut off when harry wraps his hand around the tip, moving his hand up and down in quick movements. he throws his head back, because fuck.

harry runs his tongue up and down the side of his cock, smiling when he hears louis’ whimper, before taking the whole of it in his mouth. he starts humming and it drives louis almost insane, his mouth sliding up and down his dick, making his legs feel weak. 

“jesus christ,” louis mutters, his hips moving forward suddenly. he looks down and watches harry’s head bob up and down freely, his hand moving against what his mouth can’t get to. 

he’s in a daze, he doesn’t know he got himself here, but it’s like cloud nine and his knees are starting to shake and he knows he’s about to come, so he bites his lip and lets out a soft, “fuck.” 

when he comes, harry just swallows and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like it’s nothing. he laughs when he sees louis’ face, all flustered and bright red. “well? you gonna pull your pants up?”

“right,” louis agrees, shuffling to get himself together again. he feels harry’s eyes burning through him while he does so and he’s half embarassed and half nervous for anything harry is going to do next. he’s still stoned and his eyes are still quite numb and tingly and he’s got a sudden urge to eat something, but he doesn’t want to leave the bathroom, strange enough. he wants to say something, but harry is just staring at him and has the stupid, unpredictable smile plastered on his face, and he’s afraid to say the wrong thing. “did you just blow me in the stall of a bathroom in the middle of a party?” he decides to go with.

harry rolls his eyes, leaning forward to unlock the stall and stumble out of it. “why yes, i did.” he pulls louis out, yanking him by his limp hand. “and?”

“i don’t know,” louis says honestly, his shoulders tensed. “still not gay, though.”

“that’s great,” harry answers sarcastically and louis feels shitty for saying anything.

it falls awkwardly silent for a while and that’s when louis takes it as an initiative for him to go. he collects himself, smoothing down the front of his burgundy jumper. he can already tell that harry is watching him. 

“well,” harry says, a faint bitterness in his tone “you’re leaving now, i’m guessing?”

louis nods. “i have classes in the morning.”

“so do i and my uni is halfway across town. be grateful you don’t have to walk that far with a hangover.”

“harry,” louis says, looking away. “i don’t know what to say.”

he just shrugs. “s’okay. i’ll see you, i guess.”

louis glances at him over his shoulder before he leaves the bathroom, but harry’s not looking, and before louis knows it, he’s swallowed up by the crowd once again.

**

he sleeps in too late in the morning to even bother getting up to attempt to go to class. his head pouding and his eyes are burning anyway, so he stays in bed most of the morning, staring at the blank ceiling. 

he only sits up when his blackberry starts to buzz against the top of his nightstand. he expects it to be liam, asking him to come to his room for lunch or to somewhere irrelevant that he couldn’t really care less about.

saw your mate liam last night.. gave me your number

it doesn’t even take him a second to know who the text is from, but he hesitates to respond. he can remember parts of last night (or well, this morning) but he’d been trying his best to forget all that he could. his fingers are shaking lightly when he starts to type back. 

is you finding me everywhere going to be a habit now? 

ha ha. can i see you?

not really. plans w/ liam

later? i’ll stop by.

…ok.

it’s a date then .x 

louis feels like vomitting at the sight of the stupid and yet still completely charming and cute and pointless ‘.x’ at the end of harry’s text and it’s just another thing to add to the list of stupid things harry can make…. well, not so stupid anymore.

**

he doesn’t appear at his door until a little after midnight. he doesn’t tell him how he managed to sneak past all of faculty without getting caught and louis doesn’t bother to ask, because his eyes are fixated on the way harry’s collarbones jut out in the white shirt he has on.

“nice place,” he says as he strolls in, curls bouncing around his ears. “smells like you.”

louis smirks. “well, i live in here. so.”

harry makes a face and takes it in his own consideration to do a belly flop onto louis’ bed. he’s almost too tall to fit completely on it, if he was a half inch longer, his feet would probably dangle off. louis is staring, he knows it, at the soft inward curve of harry’s back. he wants to lunge at him and just devour him, inhale him, keep him completely to himself.

harry turns onto his back and snorts. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“i’m n-” louis starts. “shut up.” 

“are you going to join me or just stand there?”

“again, shut up,” louis says with a smile and sits on the very edge of the bed awkwardly. it’s his own bed, he should feel comfortable just laying back on it, but harry is so overwhelmingly intimidating and soft and warm and perfect looking, he never knows what to do. 

“hi,” harry whispers, sitting up behind louis and putting his chin on his shoulder. his breath is hot against the skin of louis’ neck and it gives him an instant layer of goosebumps. he nudges his face against louis’ jaw and snickers to himself when louis shifts stiffly. “turn around. lay down with me.”

“harry-“ 

“could you please stop saying my name like it’s attatched to a time bomb?”

louis laughs, smacking his hand on harry’s face to push him away. he falls onto his back again and looks at louis with wide, moon-shaped eyes and a faltering pout pulling at his lips. “sorry,” he mutters and falls beside harry onto his stomach. 

harry groans in annoyance, his eyes flicking up and down louis’ back. “louis. tell me why i feel like i have to kiss you every time i’m around you.”

he gulps loudly in response, his heartbeat so prominent that harry could probably hear it loud and clear. “i-i really don’t have an answer to that.”

“do you ever have an answer to anything?”

“er. not really, no.”

“i like you, anyways,” harry says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. he turns onto his side, running a hand through the disarrayed, windswept mess that’s louis’ hair. 

there’s a sudden rise of bile in the back of his throat, louis can feel it, when he turns onto his own side to stare at harry. he always just wants to convince himself that harry isn’t as beautiful as he thought he was when they first met, but he is and that makes louis’ life a lot harder. he reaches out to put a hand on harry’s warm cheek and shivers when he does. everything about him just radiates with so much light, like nothing and no one can touch him or he’ll break. louis almost wants to pull his hand away.

harry kisses him first, his lips soft and warm and not as chapped as they were before. louis hesitates when going to kiss him back, but he does (of course) and it’s tender and slow and refreshing. 

harry’s hands are traveling-from his chest to his waist to his thigh to his leg and back up again. it makes every hair on louis’ body stand up, but he tries not flinch, to ruin the moment. 

“don’t move, okay?” harry whispers, his voice so low that it’s barely audible. his fingers crawl from louis’ legs to his waistline and they trace the small strip of his boxers that his red trousers aren’t pulled over. they linger for a second, leaving louis frozen and stiff with his breath caught in the back of his throat. “jesus, i said don’t move, not stop your oxygen intake,” he says suddenly, his chest shaking with laughter. 

louis glances over, pursing his lips to stifle the loud laughter that he’s holding in his throat. “shut up,” he whines, pulling the pillow from underneath his head to hit harry with. “i really don’t like you.”

“okay, then i’ll stop,” harry snaps, pulling his hands back and rolling over onto his other side.

“no. no, i was kidding,” louis says softly, moving his body against the back of harry’s. “don’t do that.” he presses his face against the curve of harry’s neck, pressing his lips on one of the freckles he finds for a long time. 

harry sighs, but from behind his curls, louis can see his cheeks bunch up into a smile. he turns around onto his other side again, the tip of his nose almost touching louis’. “quite convincing, you are.”

louis smiles, pinching harry’s waist playfully. “i try.” 

“can i ask you something?” he asks, his eyes averting louis’ gaze.

“sure.”

“do you care if i spend the night?”

louis opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, so he just shakes his head and harry smirks and nuzzles against louis’ side, staying warm enough for the both of them.

**

he wakes up in the middle of the night, taking comfort in the fact that harry’s cheek is pressed against the same pillow as his own. harry almost looks twice as surreal asleep as he does awake. his hair covers almost all of his forehead, but louis can still see his long lashes curving out, the flush on his apple cheeks, and his pink lips, plump and squished against the top of the pillow. 

what the fuck am i doing, is all he can think as he wraps his arm around harry to bring them closer together.

**

he’s alone when it’s time to wake up for class.

he half expects some kind of text or call or maybe even a note from harry, so he isn’t too upset when there’s not. he tells himself that harry had class too and had to walk, so he had to leave early. that’s what it was. that’s why he left.

liam and niall are waiting for him when he reaches sociology and he greets them both with fist bumps, leading the way inside to three seats in the far left of the room. niall is loud and quite obnoxious, shoving a granola bar into his mouth and occasionally burping into his palm while louis is trying to pay attention. or at least look like it. he isn’t sure when niall started to be around so much, but liam has become his only friend, so whoever he’s with louis has to deal with.

“christmas is next week,” liam pipes up when class is nearly over. “your birthday too, lou.” he nods toward louis with a smile. “we going to celebrate?”

louis blinks. he’d almost forgotten about his birthday. and christmas. and things that didn’t involve harry. 

“i reckon we just get pissed,” niall says, granola bits falling from his mouth. “you’ll be twenty, mate. that’s a big deal.”

“don’t remind me.” louis makes a face. “i might go home for christmas holiday. mum’s been calling me, wondering how i am and stuff.” he’s half lying. his mum really does want him to be home for holidays, but there’s the fact that he’d be away from harry for two weeks. he wonders if harry’s going away for holiday, if he has family he’s waiting to visit, if he’s thinking about not seeing louis as well. 

“before then!” niall insists. “we go on holiday, when, like, few weeks? we’ll have to take you out soon, then.” he elbows louis in the ribs. “get fucked, get you laid before you head off to mum’s-“

“sounds great,” louis cuts him off, faking enthusiasm. he glances down at his phone in his lap and runs his finger down his contacts list until he gets to H. he stares at his name for a moment, debating with himself on whether or not he should text him first. 

he doesn’t have to.

weird, but i kinda miss you, the text reads. louis bites his lower lip when he reads it, glancing up at liam and niall to make sure his phone is at no readable angle. he tries not to smile, to avoid being asked and teased about who he’s texting, but he can’t help it. harry misses him and he misses harry.

even weirder, but i kinda miss you too?

can i see you then? :)

er ..sure. stay over tonight

**

he has harry pressed against the back of his door the minute he opens it. harry’s hair is wild and damp when louis runs his hands through it and there’s drops of water on the tip of his nose, dripping right over the small scatter of freckles. louis smiles when he notices and wipes them off with his thumb.

harry’s taller than him and louis hasn’t really realized until now, so when he goes to kiss him, he has to lean up a bit. harry is warm as always and his mouth tastes like honey and he smells like soap and his hands make louis feel like he could combust at any second. 

it’s a bit of a struggle at first, mostly because louis doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but somehow harry gets louis on his back, his legs limp and dangling off the edge of the bed. his eyes follow harry as he pulls his jumper off, flinging it across the room. harry’s skin is tan and his stomach is toned and fit and louis wants to inhale him completely. he shifts his position and gulps, because he’s nervous and because everything harry does is exhilarating. 

“wait.” harry stops, his trousers sitting halfway down his legs. “do you want to-” louis nods before he finishes. “do you have-“

louis smiles, stretching his arm to the drawer of his nightstand, pulling a condom and a bottle of lube out and tossing them in harry’s direction. 

they’re doing this. it’s happening and louis can’t believe it, he doesn’t want to believe it, that this is the same kid that smirked at him while he checked him out at his stepdad’s conveniant store. that this is the same kid he spent so many nights in a row thinking about and the same kid he promised himself he would never see or speak to again. 

“jesus christ,” harry mutters as he climbs on top of louis. his hands travel to the buttons of louis’ jeans and they linger there for a moment, fiddling with the zipper until it zips down and he can slide the trousers off. harry looks at him again, his eyes wide and his lips red and inviting and he kisses him, rough and passionate and so good. “don’t move, okay?” he whispers against the skin of louis’ neck, reaching down to put the condom on. “just— okay.” he’s smiling when they kiss again and sure enough, louis is too.

harry finishes undressing louis for him, lifting his shirt over his head and biting his lip when he glances down. “just relax,” he says, fingers running down to in between louis’ legs. he bites down on his lip, looking up at louis with a gentle stare. “if it’s cold or if it’s uncomfortable, just tell me. i’ll stop.” he carefully slides a single finger inside of him and louis’ eyes feel like they’re bulging out of his head. it’s cold and wet, but not horrible, and he closes his eyes tight while harry sneaks in another finger. it makes him he lets out a shaky moan, tainted with a hint of pain, but he doesn’t ask harry to stop. 

“louis,” harry says when he feels it’s been long enough. he pulls his fingers out and louis is still a bit shaky. “c’mere.” he kisses louis again, this time not as long, and cups his hands around louis’ face, pushing into him slowly. 

louis feels his back arch and his palms already feeling clammy. as harry goes deeper, he feels himself losing it, his mind wary and his eyes fluttering closed and his muscles tensed. harry knows what he’s doing and he doesn’t feel stiff or awkward and he slowly starts to move, in and out, in a slow, rhythmic motion. it’s making louis mad and sweaty and he grabs onto the little bunches of sheets he can latch onto, curling them around his fingers.

harry speeds up, keeping the same movement, but now quicker and harder and better. his hands are smoothing over the curve of louis’ back, his nails digging into his skin just at the right moments. 

louis puts his legs around harry, arching his back enough so he can thrust forward just as much as harry is. “fuck,” he groans, his own nails scratching against harry’s back as well. he throws his head back with a grunt when harry moves his hips a different way, rocking deep inside him, making every hair on every part of his body stand straight up. 

“h-harry,” louis whimpers, his body shaking and his forehead sweaty. his heartbeat is past its normal rate and he’s never shaken so much before, but it’s amazing and unbelievable and he wraps his arms around harry like he’ll blow away if he doesn’t. when he feels himself reach his peak, he buries his face into harry’s neck and waits until harry is trembling too and they’re both panting and gasping and clawing at each other. 

harry reaches up to louis’ face, pulling him against his lips. “jesus,” he hisses, his breath stinging louis’ cheeks. he rolls over onto his back, discarding the wonky condom into the bin by louis’ bedside and lets out a long sigh. 

the two lay there for a while, still sweaty and breathing heavily. louis decides to light a cigarette and offers harry one, which he gladly takes. harry looks prettier than before, as if it’s possible, but his skin is glowing underneath the dim lights of louis’ room and he almost looks angelic. 

“is it late?” harry asks suddenly, pulling the covers over him and louis. “or am i just worn out?”

“it’s late,” louis says and turns onto his stomach. “are you gonna be here when i wake up or are you gonna leave without a trace again?”

harry snorts a laugh, swinging his whole arm across louis’ back. “no,” he says, his whisper raspy and low. “put your fag out before we burn to death.” he takes it from louis’ and puts them both out against the side of the trash bin and tosses them inside. 

“night,” louis says tiredly against his pillow, curling up against harry’s arm. “i’ll be disappointed if you just lied to me and you’re not here in the morning.”

“shut up.”

a/n: omg pls!!!! i’m bad at smut, i know, but i really like researched gay porn for like a week straight bc well what the fuck would i know about it besides fic tbh but yeah. pls tell me yo thoughtz :)