Sub(stitute)

Cuffs

This is a short story so only a few chapters and I'm jumping into the smut pretty quickly because that's how it turned out, so this chapter is no longer PG—enjoy!

New Number: ;)

Harry: ?

New Number: it's Louis ;)

Harry: oh! hi Louis

Harry puts the new number into a new contact under the name hot gay mess☕️

Hot Gay Mess☕️: wanna do something tonight?

Harry: anything in mind?

Hot Gay Mess☕️: I can think of a few things

Harry: do you want to go somewhere or come over?

Hot Gay Mess☕️: it's up to you love

Harry squealed at the word Louis used, burying his face in his pillow as he layed on the couch, still in his clothes from earlier. Coffee stain still present.

Harry: I'm kinda drained from those kids today. Wanna just come over?

Hot Gay Mess☕️: are you hungry?

Harry: not super. we can eat though

Hot Gay Mess☕️: take out? I can't cook for shit

Harry: sure :)

Hot Gay Mess☕️: perfect. send me your addy and I'll be over soon xxx

Harry: nice

He sent his address, then panicked. He has no idea what to wear, his flat is still a mess from moving in, and he could probably use a shower if he's being honest.

But he had little time, knowing Louis would be over soon.

He stripped off his dirty shirt, and dug in his closet, finding a softer shirt, free of coffee stains.

He tugged on different bottoms, joggers instead of trousers, and combed his fingers through his hair a few times, making it look presentable.

After a few minutes, he heard knocks on his front door and darted out of his room, he sprayed a room spray to make it more appealing, since he hadn't had guests over yet.

He opened the door to a smirking man leaning on the door frame.

"Hey gorgeous," Louis greeted, voice low and quiet.

"Come in," Harry found it hard to breathe properly.

He stepped inside, looking around, and then back to Harry.

"Sorry it's a total mess, I just moved in a week ago. Still arranging things."

"Where'd you move from?" he sits down on the couch with Harry, looking around the cluttered room.

"Holmes Chapel," Harry answered, leaning back.

"Nice, I'm from Donnie," he says happily, proud of his home.

"Really? That close? Could've met you before we moved to London, eh?"

"Yeah. I barely left Donnie though, I never traveled that much. I went to Manchester a few times, for concerts but that's about it."

"Me too! I remember The Script one in 2009. What a show."

"Wait, you saw The Script? In 2009? In Manchester?" His eyes go wide.

"Yeah. Don't judge me, I was 15," Harry laughs.

"No, I'm not–I think we went to the same show. What if we had met then?"