12. I've Got Love On My Fingers, Lust On My Tongue

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Louis ran one hand through his hair, making sure it wasn't too stiff from hair products. He shrugged, spritzing one last whirl of hairspray into his artful quiff. He took a good look at himself in the mirror, trying to calm his breaths. He was having a date, a proper one at that, with Harry. He couldn't help the way his heartbeat spiked up at the mention of Harry's name even if it was just inside his head.

It was a bit ridiculous that Louis was going to pick up Harry at the bottom of the steps, but he was planning to be a gentleman after what he had made Harry go through on their first date. He wanted to make a lasting impression this time.

Louis hurried out of the bathroom and jogged down the last of the stair steps, fumbling with his shirt buttons. He palmed his skintight black jeans, Liam's voice in his head taunting, "Those are your fuck-me jeans, Tomlinson! You are so getting laid tonight." He laughed quietly to himself, reaching Harry and Mathew, who were waiting for him by the door.

Louis almost tripped on his feet at the sight of Harry. Harry was wearing a snazzy purple paisley suit with a pair of metallic bronze boots, completing his look with black nail polish and an assortment of rings. He looked like sex, glamour and fashion all rolled into one lean mass with messy tresses. Louis wanted to press Harry up against the wall and kiss him senseless. It drove him crazy that he was forbidden to touch—to taste.

"You look great," Louis complimented.

You look absolutely gorgeous, is what Louis really wanted to say.

Harry grinned. "Thank you."

Mathew stood up from where he was seated on the floor playing with Isabella and her toys. He eyed Louis up and down, his mouth parting open around slow breaths. Louis frowned at him, feeling self-conscious under his unwavering gaze. Luckily, Harry broke the silence before it became too awkward.

"So here are all the numbers. My phone, his phone, the restaurant and the pediatrician."

Harry handed over a slip of paper to which Mathew accepted it. Silence ensued. They all stared at one another, Mathew faux-coughing into his fist.

"You know, you actually have to leave the house for me to do my job," Mathew said, looking warily between the two of them.

"Yes, okay!" Harry agreed, nodding at Mathew.

They said their good byes and left the house on Louis' motorcycle, (much to Louis' surprise) driving to Fraiche in comfortable silence. Louis looked over his shoulder and couldn't help but smile when he saw Harry's hair whipping wildly from the wind underneath the safety helmet. He looks so lovely.

They got to Fraiche in a matter of minutes, Louis hurrying to open the front door for Harry. Harry's surprised, "Oh, thanks," made Louis feel warm all over if not a little proud of himself. Louis was going to do this right tonight.

They walked into the warm space. Fairy lights twinkled on the ceiling and bowls of fresh fruits adorned the tables. The place looked a bit hipster-y, yet classic, with a touch of finesse alike high end gourmet restaurants. Louis roamed the place, picking at random knick-knacks while Harry set off into the kitchen to prepare dinner. He could definitely see this as a restaurant come to life.

Louis leaned against the chipped doorframe, watching Harry chop vegetables with swift hand movements. The sounds of a knife cutting on the board was the only noise in the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Louis walked towards Harry, hovering behind him and seeing him work his magic.

"This place is amazing, Harry. I can't believe I haven't been here before," Louis said, a smile evident in his tone.

Harry smiled, continuing to chop carrots. He flicked his hand across the board and swiped away the remainder of the vegetables stuck to the knife.

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