what a wicked thing to do (to make me dream of you) {l.s.}

part 1

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚LOUIS˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

There's a long, narrow corridor that decisively weaves its way around the top floor of the university. Its dark wooden floors gleam even in the darkness, accompanied by luxurious crimson-colored rugs in the middle.

Students seldom make the trek up the winding seven flights of stairs and so silence, dust, and the rich notes of decaying autumn leaves are often the only visitors of the top floor.

The ornate sconces that are placed precisely along the hallowed hallway play vigilante observers to any foul play. Constantly lit with a faint golden glow, they have an undesired effect of illuminating the shadow of two figures that are currently moving in tandem at the other end.

The corner that dips around the hall at the end of the corridor is almost unnoticeable. A hidden nook, one of the university's many, but certainly its most unutilized.

It's here that Louis finds himself sincerely debating whether or not today will be the last time he lets the bane of his existence shove him into a dark corner to rip him a new one after yet another very volatile and very public spat.

He wholeheartedly believes this task would be much more manageable if said bane of his existence didn't happen to kiss him heatedly on the lips in the same breath.

As he's pushed up against the wall, a ravenous mouth sucking luscious bites on his bared neck, he attempts to mentally count how many times they've found themselves in this exact uncompromising position this week.

He loses track when two massive hands grip tightly at his waist, pinning him impossibly closer to the wall.

"You don't possess a single shred of decorum, do you?" The alpha above him growls, green eyes ablaze with equal parts sordid lust and fury. He keeps Louis trapped against the surface that he had been trying to slowly inch away from.

"That is certainly quite rich coming from someone who decided to stink up the entire lecture hall with their suffocating pheromones," Louis gripes back, his own two hands clamping down on both Harry's shoulders. "If one person disagreeing has you this up in arms, I have to believe you do not have the temperament to be a participating member of civilized society. I should tell your father."

"You sabotaged me," the alpha hisses back, nostrils flaring. "Don't think I didn't see you switch my notes."

"As if you didn't have the material memorized anyway," Louis' mask of indifference is melting away as wanton heat rises between their two bodies like smoke curling from a chimney. "You should be thanking me for the challenge."

"You're literally the devil incarnate," Harry murmurs before he's capturing Louis' mouth with his own lips moving heatedly against each other.

Louis decides to forgo the scathing response that is loaded on his lips ready to poison the alpha in favor of pressing up against his strong thigh that's slotted between his own two legs, seeking friction.

They move against each other desperately, distributing whatever anger and frustration that has been boiling over, onto the other's willing body.

As always, Louis can't help but get lost in it, digging his hands deep into Harry's curls and tugging at them just to be a nuisance. Harry only tightens his grip, thumbs pressing punishingly against the crease of Louis' hip bones, and kisses him harder.

The ceremonial gong of a bell interrupts their heated exchange, and suddenly the faint noise of students stepping into the hallway below them threatens to invade their tryst.

"Get off me," Louis manages to push the angry alpha away from him, entirely displeased that it was only because Harry let him do it.

Harry only levels him with a familiar antagonizing gaze, one that he's created solely to be cast at Louis for the entirety of their lives. "Make no mistake, we are not done discussing this Louis."

"Like hell we are," Louis snaps bitterly as he straightens out the hand-shaped wrinkles in his white button-up shirt before he's leaning down to grab his discarded blazer. He wants to say more, something that will truly rattle the alpha and hopefully make him feel as unhinged as Louis does in his presence, but his mind conjures no more verbal ammunition.

He wonders if Harry feels like this too, and that's why he's forced to resort to such intimate tactics to obtain the upper hand. The very notion of it causes a scowl to grace the omega's face, and he flips the alpha off before leaving the hidden alcove with as much dignity as he can still muster up.

He resolutely ignores the heavy footsteps on the polished floors behind him.