The Clock Strikes (Larry Stylinson)

Harry is homeless, Louis needs someone to love, and sometimes, wishes really do come true.

The clock ticks over to midnight and Niall strikes the match, lighting the candle and looking expectantly at Louis. "Time to make all your dreams come true. What's your birthday wish Tommo?"

Louis stares into the flame and wonders. Closing his eyes, he thinks of cold winter nights curled up by the fire, driving along country roads holding hands across the console, laughter and warmth and a sense of belonging. An image creeps into his mind, blurry and shimmering. Curls, green eyes, milky white skin. Louis sucks in a deep breath, opens his eyes and blows.

The lights in the pub go out and the music stops, time seems to be teetering on the edge of something, like the crest of a roller coaster before the fall.

Then the pub surges back to life. "Sorry about that folks! Damn storm must be coming." The bartender shouts out.

Niall is staring at him, mouth agape, before regaining his composure. "Must've been a helluva wish Tommo."

Louis is a little stunned himself, but blinks out of it and laughs. "Yeah, must've been."

Notes: This work contain explicit sexual content.