me, him, and the moon (larry au)

chapter eleven: harry

So, here's the thing. Living in a home with werewolves like yourself, that's alright. In fact, that's the better portion of the thought process Harry was trying to work himself through. Now, put into account that one of those members of the house happened to be, potentially, the best looking lad on the face of the earth; that is what's called an issue.

Cheekbones. Lovely, lovely cheekbones that looked like they were formed by the very hands of God. Eyes, blue like the oceans in the Florida, with specks of darker green the color of sea foam washing upon the shore. Hair as wispy as the blades of grass in a field of golden orange. Skin, tan and supple. Skin so perfect, almost as if it'd been caressed by angel wings.

Louis fucking Tomlinson.

Moving into the house was easy; it was simple and painless. Telling Zayn that Harry had kissed the alpha in question, that was simple. It may not have felt simple at the time, but eventually, the thoughts were getting easier to manage. As seconds passed, Zayn seemed to understand the situation, and he didn't throw a strop about it. Once Zayn left Harry's room, he could finally breathe because he told someone. It was a weight lifted from his shoulders.

Now, coming back to the house after a night out, in which Harry had a bit to drink, now that was something only nightmares were made of.

It wasn't the act of going out and having a good time with his mates. It wasn't drinking and listening to the music of the club. It wasn't the car ride to and from the club. Granted, Harry didn't feel himself for a party. When Zayn wouldn't tell him where they were going, that was fine. It didn't bother Harry when Louis spoke to him about going out. No, the nightmare started when Louis asked, no, in fact he demanded, Harry to dance with him.

It was fucking glorious, if Harry was being honest. Louis's hands on his body. The sweaty mixture of music and too many clothes in that club, that was incredible. The way the music shifted the air, and Harry could feel every part of Louis on his body. Hands on his waist, the faint breath cascading traces of alcohol over Harry's neck and cheek. Harry felt powerful in that moment, felt as though he could do whatever he wanted to. Maybe it was the alcohol, and maybe it was the new blood that pulsed through his veins. It was a glorious feeling, having Louis's hands everywhere on Harry's skin; everything he needed them to be.

Part of Harry was relieved when Niall broke the two of them up. Just as Louis leaned forward further into Harry's neck, there were hands pulling Louis away. Something was said about 'distance' but the situation still stood, that Louis chose to dance with Harry. How far would Harry have let Louis take it if Niall hadn't stepped in? How far would Louis have taken it?

When they got home, Harry, still a bit fuzzy with alcohol and drunk on Louis's touch, found himself wobbling to his bedroom with the help of Niall. After changing out of his clothes, Niall left him to fetch Harry some water, and make sure everyone else got in the house alright. Louis was gone before Harry made it to the front door, but Liam waited outside for Zayn and the girls to arrive. Once they did, Harry heard the tires in the driveway, the girls made their way to their rooms quietly, but giggling when Lacey fell trying to walk up the stairs. He could hear Liam and Zayn talking outside, and Niall bounding back up the stairs with water.

Harry fell asleep before Niall could come back into the room. He dreamt of Louis against his mouth.

Waking up the next morning was absolutely atrocious. Bless Niall for leaving the glass of water and a bottle of pain relievers in his room, but the headache he was suffering from made it hard for him to even reach out for the items. After ten minutes of weighing his options, he decided to move and take the damn things before his migraine got any worse.

An hour later, and another nap later, Harry woke to the sound of buzzing around the home. Niall's laughter could be heard from downstairs, probably with Liam and the girls. He turned over in bed and stretched, alcohol no longer fading any part of his mind. Harry's eyes went wide and a churn ripped through his stomach as he remembered the escapades of the prior night.