Teacher's Pet

Teacher's Pet: Chapter Thirteen

As soon as his mind had been made up, he went as quickly as he could, before he could change his mind and convince himself of how unmoral and wrong it would be to hook up with Harry, his student. He bid his Mum goodbye with little explanation, knowing he’d regret leaving her in such a fragile state later, when he’d lie awake feeling like the worst son ever. But at the time it was necessary, all for Harry. 

He drove through the night, arriving back at the apartment at two in the morning and stumbling up the stairs, drunken with pint up passion that had been so desperate to escape and shine for Harry, ever since Louis had first laid eyes on him, the first day of class. 

He struggled to unlock the door, and pushed it open, taking a cautious step forward into the pitch-black apartment, reaching around blindly for a light switch. He flicked the lights on and looked around the apartment the weak light illuminated, his eyes falling on a stilled form on the couch, huddled under a mound of blankets. 

A tuff of curls poked out from a quilt Louis’ Mum had given him long ago, and Louis smiled softly, tiptoeing over to the huddled figure and squatting down, running a hand through the soft curls that were still forbidden. They were his apple, and he was about to take a bite of it. 

Harry groaned, pulling away from the touch and opening his blurry eyes, looking around in a daze for a moment, before his eyes settled on Louis. A smile pulled on Harry’s lips and he propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at Louis, “Hey Mr. T. How’s your sister?” 

“Safe,” Louis whispered, “She’ll probably be a right mess to deal with in the morning though.” 

Harry’s eyebrows drew in, in confusion, “Why didn’t you stay with her?” He asked, and Louis’ heart began to pound harder in his chest, as he realized that this was the moment. This was the time for him to pick if he was truly going to face the potential of giving up everything, his job and his good name, for the one thing he craved most. 

If this was a movie, surely this would be the moment when the angel and the devil would’ve popped up on his shoulder, arguing about which path he should take. But this wasn’t a movie, this was real life, and he was about to make a real life decision.  

“Because,” Louis said, leaning forward, until he was almost touching foreheads with Harry, “I had something to tell you,” he swallowed painfully and shut his eyes, willing himself to get the words out, but before he could, Harry closed the distance between their lips, and suddenly, Louis realized, they were kissing.

Louis didn’t pull back, but instead leaned forward, his lips moving with Harry’s, slipping his tongue in-between Harry’s chapped lips, his own tongue dancing around in Harry’s mouth. Louis climbed on top of Harry, their lips still working together, and then began to tug off his own shirt, only stopping when Harry drew his lips away from Louis’.

“Here?” He asked, helplessly, and Louis looked around his open apartment living room biting his lip. He then shook his head and climbed off of Harry, grasping behind him for his wrist and dragging him into his room, pushing Harry down onto his unmade bed.

Harry began to struggle to twist his way out of his own shirt, and Louis watched amused for a moment, before growing restless and tugging the shirt over Harry’s head, leaving their two chests exposed and ready to be explored.