Cufflinks and Quiffed Hair // L.S.

*13*

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Who's ready for some Larry talks which are not fights?

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*Louis' POV*

It's been two weeks since Styles first joined my company. I think offering him the job was the best thing I had done in recent history.

We've finished developing a new game in just two weeks, which was taking us more than a month before he joined. So, that's great.

Me and Styles have had a nice relationship as business partners. Our ideas are pretty similar, it's just he thinks about the future more than I do, so we are able to jump to a conclusion faster than usual.

We have not once talked about that one awkward moment we had had two weeks ago; on the day he had joined my company. But it was nothing to talk about, obviously. We were just a bit scared Styles could fall which he didn't, so we were relieved, that's all.

If curiosity was killing me as to why Harry's pupils had widened during that moment, nobody had to know, obviously. And I didn't want to think about such things.

I looked over to where Styles sat on his desk, typing away on the keyboard. A pencil in his mouth, one hand in his hair, eyes focused on the screen, one leg bouncing up and down. I had to laugh. He looked funny like that. His tie was loose, three shirt buttons and cufflinks undone, hair a mess. I wonder why he never does his hair, but not that I care a damn.

I was actually free, so I walked over to his desk and stood behind where he sat. He didn't seem to notice my presence. I saw he was stuck in the program he was working on, and I immediately knew what the next in the program was. I bent from behind him and reached for the keyboard with one hand as I said, "This is easy, I can help you."

He shivered suddenly and said, "God Lewis! You should've told me you're here. I got freaked out." "Sorry, scaredy pants." I teased as I worked on the program standing behind him. My face was inches above his neck and I could smell his expensive cologne. I bet it was Tom Ford's.

"Which cologne do you use?" I asked him and he looked at me with wide eyes. He asked, "Why do you ask?" I shrugged, "Smells nice."

"Thanks." He said and I didn't miss the way the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. I asked, "Which is it?" "Tobacco VanilleSavvy, Tom Ford." He said and I smirked inwardly. I knew it was Tom Ford. I hummed as I continued working.

He looked up towards me and said, "Do you wanna sit here? I'll get up." "No, 's fine. I'll be done in sometime." I said. I definitely didn't want to sit in that mouldy place he called a desk.

He said, "Okay, fine. Be quick." "A minute, Styles." I said as I looked at him. He was already looking at me and I didn't fail to see how his eyes weren't on me, but on my lips. I don't think he realized I was looking at him.

I looked away and finished typing the last line of the program. "There you go. Send it to Mitch downstairs, he'll take care of the rest." I walked away to my own desk as Styles said, "Wow. Thank you, Lewis. I wasn't able to do this for half-an-hour now."

I smirked at him saying, "Yeah, that's because I'm Louis Tomlinson and you are Asshole Styles." He rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah dickhead, was wondering where Dickhead Tomlinson had gone."

"Oh, he's always here, was just asleep for a while. Now wide awake. Wanna chat with him?" I asked, winking at him. He rolled his eyes and said, "No, thank you, I'll get going."

He typed a few things on the laptop and the got up and walked out of the room, but only after sticking his tongue out at me, "I fucking hate you more than firecrackers."