Bottom Harry Smut

like how your hands feel me up and down

[louis works in a halloween shop and harry needs a costume]

By : ballsdeepinjesus on Ao3

For the past three Halloweens in a row, Harry has dressed up as a ghost, pure laziness motivating him only to grab the sheet off of his bed and hope for the best on his way to Niall's annual costume party. Last year the sheet wasn't even white. This year, however, he's been told in no uncertain terms that if he doesn't turn up to the party in an actual costume, Niall will kick his arse. Unfortunately, this year Harry and Niall (and their friend Zayn) actually live together, so Harry fears he's at risk for actual bodily harm.

So that's why at almost seven at night Harry finds himself outside of the local costume shop that's miraculously stayed in business for the past ten years. He glances at the sign outside and sees that the shop closes right at seven so he hurries in quickly, hoping whoever's working will take pity on him days before Halloween, when most of the costumes are probably gone.

A quick look at the register makes him stop in his tracks. Behind the counter stands Louis Tomlinson, boy of his dreams. Not that he knows him or has ever actually spoken to him before in his life, but. Harry knows. They're meant to be. He's fluffy-haired and pretty, with slight features and gorgeous blue eyes. But he's also sneakily rugged, looking stubbly and inked in the few (very few) times Harry has watched him walk across campus with the air of an angry peacock.

Louis sits two rows ahead of him in his Economics class; it only took two classes for Harry to realize watching the other boy was far more exciting than whatever his professor had to offer. In the past couple of months Harry has learned that Louis is smart, funny, and unbelievably attractive. Thus, Harry must procreate with him. Or at least go out on a date.

Harry tiptoes behind a display of scary latex masks, wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant smell as he tries to eavesdrop on Louis' conversation. His voice is one of Harry's favorite things in the world; it's a little high-pitched but raspy, making him constantly sound like he's just woken up from a nap. His voice is tinged with fondness as he speaks in low tones to the child at the register while her mother pays for her costume.

"I always wanted to be an alien for Halloween," he says. "You picked a great costume, love."

"Thank you," her shy voice answers.

"What planet do you think your alien comes from?" Louis asks. "Personally, I've always thought aliens from Mars were a little overrated. Neptune aliens, though...how many arms do you think they have?"

The girl just giggles in response while her mother finishes up paying.

"Happy Halloween!" Louis calls out as they leave. Harry wonders if his heart is ever going to stop melting. And then he realizes he's the only one left in the store. With Louis. Alone. He tries to casually move away from the masks so he can find his desired aisle without attracting Louis' attention, but as with most things Harry does, he flubs that up. He knocks over a display of fluorescent hair paint by his feet and curses as the bottles spill onto the floor with loud, tinny clangs.

"Shit," he mutters, dropping to his knees and trying to pick up as many cans as he can.

"Now I know it's a good sale mate, but I'm not sure you need that many cans of red hair mist."

Harry clenches his eyes shut and grits his teeth in embarrassment. He turns slowly and gives a weak smile to Louis who's staring at him with amusement dancing in his eyes. His jaw is covered in stubble that Harry wants to feel in between his legs maybe. For sure.

"Oh yeah, you definitely don't need it," Louis says. "Look at that curly hair. You're fine just the way you are."

There's a loud squelching sound that Harry quickly realizes is the sound of his stomach twisting itself into absolute knots because Louis Tomlinson just complimented him.