Summary: flowerchild!harry where he's a librarian and punk!louis. horny harry, teaser louis, smut ensues.
A/N: Hiiiii so yeh this is just a oneshot but in two parts if that makes sense. I know the summary says smut but that's really in the second part so don't bother reading if you just wanna get off on larry action ;)
Dedicated to olivialeitepuente because i'm a poo and i don't update her prompt story.
"Um, excuse me? Sorry to bother you but could you please maybe talk a little quieter? It's just that the library requires users to keep the environment calm so people can read peacefully," Harry cautiously said to a pair of teenage girls gossiping loudly in the corner of the room. They just rolled their eyes and huffed, walking out of the building.
Harry bit his lip as he adjusted the crown of flowers that adorned his head. Being a librarian is so much fun...especially when no-one takes you seriously because you have dimples, you've got adorable curls for hair and you collect fresh flowers to decorate it with each morning. But Harry wasn't going to change the latter. It was just who he was.
He was about to turn around and walk back to the main shelf to collect some books to put away when he felt a hand on his hip and someone breathing down his neck.
"I would've just told them to shut the fuck up," the person said before their hand left Harry's hip. He slowly turned to see this guy. This gorgeous, gorgeous guy standing before him. Harry watched as he flicked his feathered, caramel hair out of his eyes and wow they are really blue. The right one dropped into a wink before he turned and walked away. Harry continued ogling him, taking in his muscular arms which were completely covered in tattoos, his black t-shirt with menacing silver spikes on the shoulders and black skinny jeans which hugged his arse in a way that should be illegal as it swished from side to side while he walked through the door of the library.
Oh, and one more thing, Harry's gay.
~*~
It's ridiculous because it had been a whole 26 hours since Harry's encounter with the boy with the tattoos but there had not been a moment when he wasn't thinking about that hazel hair or those blue eyes or that fantastic arse.
He continued to file away his last pile of books for the day, slotting them into their respective shelves. The next one was 'Twilight', and boy, has he had to put this book away a few times. He swears the book had been in people's hands for a larger amount of time than it had been on its shelf. He sighed, making his way over to the 'M' section, knowing out of habit of shelving the book that the author's name is Stephanie Meyer.
Harry pushed his flower crown further up his head, feeling it slip off as he slotted the book onto its shelf. He turned around and was about to leave, his shift being over, when a tattooed arm caught his eye. He turned back, heart racing, and peered over the row of books he had shelved 'Twilight' into to be able to see the person standing on the other side of the shelf. It was him. Harry watched as the guy from yesterday turned over the page of a novel he was reading, marvelling over how the muscles on his arms flexed as he placed the page on the other side of the book. He was wearing a Pink Floyd wife beater today and, well, holy shit. It revealed a bit of his chest and a tattoo which read "It Is What It Is". Harry wondered what that might mean. He was also wearing those damn skinny jeans and so hello, sexy arse. His eyes travelled back up to his face but stopped at his lips. Harry's breath hitched as he watched a pink tongue slide out over those perfect lips and-were those angel bites?
"Kill me now," Harry accidentally said out loud causing Mr. Gorgeous to look up and see Harry, whose face was red as a tomato now. The boy smirked and winked, before turning around for a minute and doing something that Harry couldn't quite make out. He then turned back round, still smirking as he walked away leaving the book he was reading on a nearby table. Harry watched as he left the building, arse swishing like yesterday, and for some reason holding a pen in his hand. Harry walked up to the table and picked up the book the boy was reading, chuckling when he saw that it was "Warm Bodies". Who would've thought that a punk was into romance novels for teenage girls? Harry headed back over to the 'M' section to put back the book, the author being Isaac Marion, when he saw a small piece of paper fall out of it. Curiosity got the better of him, so he decided to pick it up and read what was written on it. Just a simple note in scrawny handwriting that read:
"Take a picture next time, Harry. It'll last longer.
Louis x (so you can put a name to my face)"
Harry's heart rate increased tenfold. 'He knows my name?!' he thought. 'Yes. And so does your name-tag,' his conscience shot back at him.
~*~
Harry spent the next week working over-time in hope of being able to watch 'Louis' for just a little longer as he would sit up against a shelf, reading some book, apparently oblivious to Harry's creepy stares.
"Harry? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you have gone home by now?" his co-worker, Marge said.
Harry jumped, startled by her sudden appearance. "Marge! Hi! Um...yes, I just happen be -uh- really enjoying shelving...books...yeah…You know what? Why don't you take the day off? Let me handle the place today. Trust me, I know how rowdy kids my age can be and -uh- you deserve a...break," He said unconvincingly.
The grey haired lady pushed her glasses further up her nose cautiously, giving him an odd look and adjusting her cardigan as she warily accepted his offer to take up her shift. She turned and walked away, leaving Harry to sigh and turn back to where his attention was previously engaged. When he did so, he found that Louis was no longer in sight.
"For fuck's sake," he groaned, pulling a flower out of his unruly mess of curls in frustration and throwing it on the floor.
"Why'd you do that? It looked so pretty in your hair." someone said, causing Harry to jump and turn when he recognized the soft, velvety tone of their voice.
"Louis," Harry gasped.
“So I see you got the note,” Louis said as he tucked the fallen flower back into the assortment in Harry’s hair.
Harry chewed on his lower lip, eyes shining as he took in how close to him Louis was standing. He watched as Louis’ eyes darkened and he groaned for some unknown reason. Harry looked down at his feet, and looked up again to see that Louis was standing even closer to him, lips inches away from his own. He leaned in even closer, and Harry’s breath hitched. Louis then turned his head at the last second, lips moulding around the shell of Harry’s ear, nibbling it.
“I just wanna bite that fucking lip of yours,” Louis hotly whispered into his ear.
Harry gasped as Louis took him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer and smashing his lips against Harry’s. Louis’ lips moved skilfully against his, head turning to fulfil his own wish by nibbling on Harry’s lower lip. Harry moaned and Louis took the opportunity to slide his tongue into his open mouth, caressing Harry’s tongue with his own and sliding it over his teeth. Harry’s inexperienced lips moved unsurely against Louis’, tongue tentatively sliding against his. Louis then started moving back and Harry groaned at the loss, desperately clinging to the back of his neck to pull Louis toward him but Louis’ teeth just clamped onto his bottom lip, tugging it with him as he pulled away, then eventually letting go. Harry barely had time to whine, though, as Louis was promptly ducking his head to attack Harry’s neck, licking and sucking and biting. Louis shortly found his sweet spot, making him moan obscenely and Harry was really, really glad that there were hardly any customers around. Louis broke away from his neck, lips hastily returning to swallow up the moans escaping from Harry’s lips. He sucked on his bottom lip before his tongue returned to plunge inside Harry’s mouth, exploring the roof of his mouth and the underside of his tongue. He licked Harry’s top lip before pulling away. Harry dizzily opened his eyes to see that Louis’ were still closed, and he was repeatedly licking his own lips. Harry bit the inside of his cheek and Louis finally opened his eyes, watching Harry intently. His irises were near-black, blown wide with lust. He eventually opened his mouth.
“You taste fucking incredible,” he moaned. Harry shuddered.
Louis smirked as he slid something into Harry’s shirt pocket before winking and walking off, arse swishing.
Harry sighed and reaching into his pocket, retrieving a small piece of paper. It was a note. When did he write that?
Confused, Harry unfolded the small piece of paper.
He likes you babe, and its easy to see you like him too.. We don't have to do anything you don't want to, just enough to see if he does care. Yeah? -Jesse
You’re wrong. Uh, sure? I guess? And how exactly are we going to do this?
