Archive of Our Own ^beta

The venue is empty and barren of any hoards of screaming fans. All that remains is the leftover confetti littering the floor and the ringing in Louis’ ears.

They sit, the four of them, on the edge of the stage, watching people in black uniform sweep out the mess from the show. Normally they’d be up making a ruckus, shouting and tossing back shots and jumping all over each other, but today they sit. They sit and watch.

Liam is the first to crack, sucking in a noisy breath before he bursts into tears, and it’s so surprising that they all don’t move for a good five seconds. Liam’s the solid one, the one who keeps them steady and sane, and he’s the first to crack. Fuck.

“Li, Li, it’s okay.” Niall is murmuring, immediately reaching for the alpha and wrapping an arm around him. Liam mumbles incoherently and leans into the beta. Louis takes the boy’s free hand and squeezes, tries to keep it together. On his other side, Harry’s got his legs crossed and his eyes on his lap, curls curtaining his face and hiding his expression.

Niall’s getting a bit weepy himself, so Louis straightens his back, squeezes Liam’s hand again and meets Niall’s eyes with determination.

“We’ll be okay,” he says, forces his voice to stay calm and doesn’t let his own emotions choke him, “it’s just the first show. Tomorrow I can try the hook instead, okay Li? Nobody even noticed—“

“They noticed my high note, that’s for sure.” Harry pipes up, voice void of any and all emotion, eyes still on his lap. Louis reaches for him with his free hand, curls his fingers around the alpha’s wrist and thumbs along the ink there.

“We had to improvise, it’s not our bloody fault,” the anger slips in, just a bit, so he closes his eyes and starts again, “look, we’re still here, and we aren’t going to let this ruin us, okay? Z- he made his choice, and it’s not going to fuck us. We’re going to switch around his solos and we’ll figure it out. We’ll..we’ll write a whole fuckin’ album without him and it’ll sell better than anything we’ve ever put out.”

“We can’t hit his notes,” Niall says, and they know it’s bad when even Niall can’t find his optimism, “we need him.”

“We don’t need him, Christ lads, won’t you look at what’s sitting right in front of you?”

It takes a few moments for them to realise Louis is talking literally, before their heads rise and take in the stadium being cleaned up, the mess that still sits all throughout the seats and trails up along the whole thing.

“S’just seats.” Liam mumbles, sniffling wetly and shaking his head like he doesn’t understand.

“No, it’s what remains from the show we just put on. The show that we sold out. The show that we did and I don’t know what you were seeing but from where I was sitting those people out there were every bit as supportive as they were a few nights ago when it was five of us up here. If anything, they were almost louder tonight, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, they were really loud.” Niall nods, eyes looking out at the empty space with a new glint in them.

“They’re depending on us, and that’s why we’re going to make it work. We’re going to give them an incredible tour and by the end of it you won’t be able to remember why you ever thought we couldn’t.”

Liam sighs softly, but it doesn’t sound sad. It sounds shaky, hopeful.

They stare out at the seats, and Louis tries with all of his might to believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

-

It’s a few long hours before they’re alone, and by the time they are all the weight on Louis’ shoulders has come baring down. He sits at one of the cushioned benches in the bus that’s only half full anymore and tries not to notice Harry’s eyes piercing into the side of his head.

He always notices. It’s like second nature at this point. They might as well be sharing a brain.

“Are you freaking out?“ Harry asks once the bus kicks into motion. Louis fiddles with his phone and huffs an incredulous laugh.

“I’m fine,” he says, then because he knows Harry will see through his walls anyway, “just pissed off, at this point.”

“Do you think he left because of me?”

Louis blinks hard, closes his phone and looks over to Harry, who’s staring at his hands with furrowed brows. He’s been really quiet since Zayn left. He’s always been more of a quiet person anyway, but not this bad. His silence isn’t usually so poisoned with pain.

“Of course not,” Louis sighs, stands up and settles down next to the alpha, taking his sleeve and touching along his fingers, “why would you think that?”

“Remember Jamie in year nine- my year nine, I mean.”

“Jamie was a bloody narcissist. You didn’t force her to switch schools just because you didn’t want to mate her, H.”

“I think Zayn hated how close you and I are. Remember when I snuck onto the bus a few months ago and he looked all disappointed—“

“Okay, Haz, stop it,” Louis hooks their fingers together and squeezes, “he didn’t leave because of us. He left because he wasn’t enjoying himself, you know that.”

“You’re angry too.” Harry points out, almost petulantly. Louis can’t help but smile, tilting closer and bumping his nose against his cheek.

“I’m angry because he didn’t tell us he was leaving, not because of his reasons.”

Harry turns to him, sniffles wetly and tucks his face into Louis’ neck. It’s a gesture he seldom does in a place this public anymore. Well, the bus is hardly public, but Alberto is just at the front and he could come back at any point in the drive. Harry hiding in his neck isn’t exactly considered “normal” for an alpha. It’s very common for omegas, to seek comfort where the alpha’s scent is strongest, but most would say it’s strange for an alpha.

Harry used to do it all the time when they were younger, though, never used to care who was watching or how he could be viewed, so the motion just sends nostalgia all up and down his spine.

“S’alright, baby.” Louis murmurs, touches a kiss to his head and scratches at his scalp. Harry seeks out his scent gland, inhales in a shudder and squeezes their tangled fingers.

“Do you really think we’ll be fine without him?”

“I really do.” Louis closes his eyes and revels in the warmth of their embrace.

They sit like that together for a long while, and maybe Louis is keeping himself strong for Harry, but at the same time he’s just as scared as the rest of them.

***

Louis fiddles with the strap of his knapsack, lip between his teeth as he and Gemma stand on the big fuzzy nursery rug and wait for their mums.

Gemma’s one year older than him, something she proudly shows off at any given opportunity, lifting up her four fingers like a crown above her head to all of the younger children. Louis doesn’t mind, he just thinks she’s really cool.

Louis used to be alone in the hospital’s nursery, playing with toys and the very few other children until mum gets off work every day, but Gemma’s mum started working with Louis’ and now they’re best mates.

“Hi mummy!” Gemma pipes up, grinning and rushing over to the door where Anne is stepping in with a bundle in her arms. Louis trails behind and pouts, fists his straps and watches Anne pat her daughter’s head and sign a paper at the counter.

“Your mum isn’t here yet, Louis?”

He looks up, finding her eyes on him. He sways back and forth shyly and shakes his head no. Sometimes mum is late, but he doesn’t mind waiting. Usually he just plays with the building blocks until she comes in.

“Would you like us to wait with you?”

Before Louis can answer, the bundle in her arms starts to shriek. Anne coos and sets her bag down, sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs near the windows and petting at the bundle. Gemma stands next to her, copying her mum’s noises. Louis comes closer hesitantly, wincing at the loud noise.

He stops at Anne’s feet, places his hands on her knees and peers at the squishy pinked face of a baby with wide eyes.

“That’s Harry. He’s m’brother.” Gemma says proudly to him, reaching in and petting baby Harry’s wrinkly head.

“Oh.” Louis mumbles, then reaches out unprompted, takes one of Harry’s flailing hands and watching the baby’s fingers wrap around his. Harry hiccups and opens wide green eyes which turn and meet his, wet and unblinking as he sniffles.

“Aw, he likes you.” Anne says, smiling and lowering Harry a bit so they can be closer.

“Oh,” Louis says again, giggling nervously as he shakes his and Harry’s joined hands, “hi, Harry.”

“Hi,” the baby replies, voice soft and high, “hi, hi.”

“He can talk!” Louis exclaims excitedly, reaches in with his other hand to pet along Harry’s head like Anne and Gemma were doing.

“Well, he’s almost one so he’s getting there.”

“He knows all sorts of words.” Gemma adds, chest puffing with pride.

“Cat.” Harry says, proving it as he reaches up towards Louis, eyes wide and still a bit wet.

“M’not a cat.” Louis says, smiling. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even see the door open next to them until a hand settles on top of his head.

“Oh, these two finally got to meet, huh?”

Louis looks up to find his mum above him, smiling down at him. He grins back, looking down to the baby once more and petting along the thin hair on top of his head.

“Will he stay in the nursery too?” He asks, looking up at Anne hopefully. The woman laughs, shaking her head slowly.

“Not for a few more years, I’m afraid. He’s staying with the other babies while I’m at work. It’s just across the hall, though, I’m sure if you asked nicely nurse Jen will take you to visit.”

Louis nods excitedly. Nurse Jen is lovely, he’s sure she’ll let him visit baby Harry. Then Louis can make him laugh and teach him all the words he knows.

He can’t wait until tomorrow.

***

They pass both Aiden and Rebecca on the way upstairs, but thankfully don’t get much more fuss than a few suspicious narrowed-eyed looks.

“Where are we going?” Harry asks, the sixteen year old touching a few fingers to Louis’ hip as they stop in front of a door.

“Shh,” Louis hisses, peeks around them before turning the knob and getting into the room, tugging Harry along, “okay, I think we’re in the clear.”

He turns around, grins and tugs the six phones out of his pockets, dumping them onto the table in the middle of the room. They’ve ended up in a dressing room, but there aren’t any shows today so they should be in the clear.

“Who’s phones are those?“ Harry asks, eyes wide as he stares down at them. Louis tries to conceal his helpless laughter, only wiggling his eyebrows.

“Help me rename all the contacts to innuendos.” He says, picking up the first one. He thinks it’s Niall’s, or maybe Cher’s. It took a lot of distracting to get this many of the house’s phones, that’s for sure.

“Alright,” Harry agrees easily, peeking over his shoulder to watch, “can we get somethin’ to eat after?”

“Why are you always hungry, and did you lock the door?”

“Oh, hold on.” Harry turns to make for the door, only his clumsy arse foot catches on the table, sending not only the phones but himself toppling. Louis reaches out to steady him, gets both hands on his arms and tugs him back upwards.

Harry clutches his waist as he immediately laughs at himself, and Louis can only watch him, laughing along breathlessly.

Growing up with someone, one tends to become used to another. Used to the mannerisms and personality of them. Used to the changes and the things that stay the same.

Harry hit puberty and sprung up into this cheeky curly flirt of an alpha and Louis still hasn’t found the time to get used to it. His stomach flutters and he bites back a stupid smile and wonders if he ever will.

“Alright there, love?” He asks, leans in when Harry does and noses along his jaw.

“Mm,” Harry’s arms circle him, and their fumbling somehow turns into a cuddle session, “still can’t believe we’re here together.”

Louis smiles, kisses his jaw lightly and inhales his scent deeply. What used to be a subtle aroma of cinnamon when they were growing up turns into a lovely strong spiced chai. Their scents grow stronger as they hit puberty, but Louis didn’t expect it to affect him.

He’s got his eyes closed, relishing in the shiver of cloves and ginger at Harry’s neck where it’s strongest, when the door opens, because right, they didn’t lock it.

He lifts his head, unhurried, and sees it’s Liam, staring at them with furrowed brows and a frown.

“What can we do you for, Payno?” Louis asks, pulls away from Harry even though he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t go far, anyway, as Harry tucks a finger in his belt loop and keeps him close.

“I’m looking for my..” Liam looks down at the table then steps forward, and maybe it should be worrying that he doesn’t even look upset as he picks his phone from the pile, but Louis is a bit distracted by Harry’s scent changing, something sour and displeased hitting the air. Louis looks over his shoulder to find the alpha isn’t looking at him, but at Liam.

“You,” Liam trails off as he steps back to the doorway, worries his lip before continuing anyway, “you two remember there’s a no band mating rule, right?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Louis asks distractingly, tilting back into Harry’s chest in an attempt to distract him from whatever he’s displeased about.

“Just um, you two are really close and like, with your secondaries you’re already more likely to—“

“What, an alpha and omega can’t be just friends anymore? S’that why we can never get along?” Louis laughs, lifting a brow challengingly. Harry’s hand moves from his belt loop and instead squeezes his hip, wordlessly telling him not to start. Louis sighs and crosses his arms, starts over while Liam fishmouths silently. He and Liam haven’t exactly hit it off yet. Louis is loud, too loud for an omega most would say, and Liam is quite serious about staying on track and not fooling around. Sometimes Louis worries they’ll be butting heads forever, so he’s been trying to hold off on the sass a bit lately.

“Look, you don’t have to worry about us,” he tilts his head back to motion to Harry, “I changed this one’s nappies. I’d never mate someone who’s wee’d on me.”

Liam smiles a little, finally, and flushes as he steps back out of the room, leaving without another word and something written all over his face that looks almost like disbelief. When they’re alone again Louis sighs heavily and turns back to Harry.

“You did not change m’nappies. You were what, four when I was wearing them?”

“Oi, I most definitely helped Anne fasten them a few times,” Louis pinches him lightly, smiling, “why were you all off? You and Liam have a row?”

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head and swallows audibly, looks back down to the phones, “what are we doing with the mobiles again?”

“Don’t change the subject. Why were you annoyed?”

“I’m not- I wasn’t annoyed. S’just um, like an alpha thing, I guess.”

“An alpha thing.” Louis repeats, quirks an eyebrow. Harry’s starting to flush, and as pretty as it is, it’s also suspicious.

“Don’t laugh,” Harry pleads, tugs him closer once more and thumbs at his lower back, “you were in my neck and another alpha stepped into the room. M’already a bit on edge with the homesickness and stuff, so my instincts are a bit fucky.”

“Oh,” Louis murmurs, only hoping he doesn’t smell as pleased as he is, “you felt possessive, did you?”

Harry chews on his lip, eyes down between them and cheeks only darkening further as they sway lightly together. Louis fiddles with the alpha’s collar and taps his chin.

“Hey, I’m not teasing, it’s weird for me too.”

“Weird?”

“The exposure, I mean. We’ve spent our whole lives together and now other people are starting to know us. I don’t like the thought of you straying either.”

“I won’t stray,” Harry says immediately, then frowns, “m’not the one everyone wants to befriend in this house. You’re the one they all want to talk to.”

“Okay,” Louis drags out the word slowly, then nudges him, “you seem to be forgetting that I’m up here with you instead of joining in on the movie night they all invited me to.”

Harry meets his eyes, smiles small and hopeful.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, H. Dream team, from the cradle to the grave, remember?”

Harry just grins and tips forward, brushes their lips together in a chaste kiss. He’s still flushed pink when he pulls back, but his scent has gone all heavy like cane sugar. Louis sways into it with a grin.

He and Harry have talked about every possible topic they know, but he’d still rather be here with nothing more to say than to be with anyone else.

***

“Alright, Lucas, brace yourself.”

Louis presses his helpless giggles into his arm, watches as Luke dives across the floor at Stan, their makeshift armour made of pillows falling away quickly as they wrestle, reaching in for tickling, their laughter making the rough play a lot less rough and a lot more fun.

Oli’s cheering them on, voice loud and accent getting nearly indecipherable as a few of their other friends watch from the sidelines. There’s a quiet moment, then, between bouts of laughter and the music from the speakers switching to a new song, when Louis surveys the room and finds that Harry never came back with their drinks.

“You seen Haz?” Louis leans over to Kelly, who shakes her head no, hardly able to look away from the wrestling. Louis frowns and immediately stands up, setting his bag of crisps down and wandering through the house, finding empty room after empty room. He makes his way upstairs, where the noise level quiets to a distant hum and thumping from the party.

He pushes open the door to his own bedroom, and finds the alpha lying on his bed above the duvet, hands folded over his stomach as he pouts at the ceiling.

“What’re you doing up here? You’re missing the fun.” Louis shuts the door and pads on over, sits at the boy’s hip and taps his arm. Harry looks down at him and sighs, shrugging a bit with pink cheeks.

“I just..don’t think I’ll fit in, really.”

“What do you mean? Of course you’ll fit in. You were just fitting in ten minutes ago.”

“You don’t get it, they don’t want some random thirteen year old hanging around and clinging to you like a scared pup.”

“Harry,” Louis tucks a few fingers against the sliver of skin showing between Harry’s shirt and waistband, pets along his tummy with a frown, “they don’t care, I promise. If anything, I’m the one who clings onto you.”

“No. You just- you don’t get it.” Harry sighs heavily and closes his eyes, voice bleeding with frustration. Louis drags the blunt ends of his nails across his hip to get his attention.

“Tell me, then. Don’t get upset because I don’t understand something you won’t explain.”

Harry opens his eyes and sighs again, bites his lip like he’s embarrassed. Louis takes the initiative to climb up onto the bed, settling down right up in the alpha’s side, cheek against his shoulder and arm slung over his torso.

“It’s an A thing, I think,” Harry starts, soft and a little shaky, “I always feel like I’m trying to be different than I am but when I’m around you it’s hard to like, pretend. I just want to be me but I know that makes me look a certain way and I don’t want your mates to think of us- of you differently.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re someone else—“

“I do, though,” Harry cuts in, voice trembling and chest heaving under him, “I’m not- I’m not supposed to be..soft.”

He utters the word with so much disgust that Louis feels momentarily stunned. He sits up, cups Harry’s cheek and pins him down with sharp eyes.

“We’ve been over this before. Just because some cunts at school think you should be a certain way doesn’t mean it’s true. Being soft isn’t a bad thing. I like you soft.”

Harry’s chin wobbles. He shakes his head in disagreement, even as he leans his cheek onto Louis’ palm.

“Nobody wants a soft alpha, Lou.”

“No, shh baby,” Louis nudges his nose to the boy’s cheek, kisses his soft skin as it warms, “don’t change yourself because of something someone else said. You’re loved exactly the way you are, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else, including my friends, thinks. When you’re older they’ll be all over you, I promise.”

“Will you be all over me?” Harry asks, voice a shake, but eyes no longer welling up. Louis’ breath catches a bit, heart hammering, but he reminds himself that Harry’s question isn’t more than he thinks it is. They’ve been connected at the hip for as long as he can remember, it’s only natural that the boy doesn’t want him to leave his side.

“Always. From the cradle to the grave.” He curls their fingers together and tips forward, touches a soft little kiss to Harry’s pink lips. The alpha flushes, clutches at him and finally, a smile breaks out onto his face.

Louis gives him another, just because.

***

“..Even my phone misses your call, by the way.”

Louis tears off the large headphones, presses the pads of his fingertips into the foamy ears of them as he meets Harry’s eyes. The alpha leans against the wall barely a metre in front of him, lip tugged between his fingers as he stares back.

“When did you say the album releases?”

“Just a few months. We’re thinking May.”

May, right.

“Any particular reason?”

Harry’s eyes drop, his scent almost too intense with the lack of proper ventilation in this studio. Louis would be lying if he said he wanted to get away from it.

“Not really,” he murmurs, shrugs as if they haven’t known each other for over two decades, making the nerves show in every little slight movement he makes, “did you like it?”

“It’s incredible,” Louis says immediately, setting the headphones down and huffing a small laugh, “fuckin’ hell, H. You were made for this, you know? You’re going to get so big, probably even bigger than we did.”

Harry shakes his head immediately, moves away from the wall and steps closer, reaching for Louis’ wrist and thumbing at it. He’s surprised they haven’t been touching this whole time, really. Harry doesn’t usually hold back this long.

“It’ll never compare to what we did together,” the alpha says, frowning a bit, “you were made for this too, Lou. Your first album will be loads better than mine, I bet.”

He probably expects Louis to laugh.

Louis doesn’t laugh. He stares up at the boy for a long few seconds, then gently tugs his wrist away. Harry looks confused at once, eyes down between them like he never considered the possibility of Louis pulling away. Maybe he never has. Maybe Louis’ never pulled away.

“Who said I was writing an album?”

“You..you write better than anyone I know,” Harry says, which can only be a boldfaced lie, seeing as he’s friends with Stevie bloody Nicks, “I just saw you writing yesterday?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to write for me. You know that. I’ve only been saying it for two fucking years.”

Harry’s face drops a bit as he understands. He sighs and reaches out again, curls a big hand around his hip.

“I’m sorry—“

“We aren’t getting back together, are we? We spent all this time making empty promises to millions of people only to get a taste of running it solo and deciding to call it quits?”

“Louis..” Harry murmurs, voice slow and pleading. Pitying.

“Just fucking tell me, Harry. Admit you don’t want to get the band back together.”

“I,” Harry hesitates, eyes wide and shiny, hand still holding him as if he’s going to just float away, “no, I don’t. I don’t want to get back together, okay?”

Louis feels the admission wash over him full bodily. He was so certain Harry would lean in, pull them together and promise that wasn’t the case, promise he isn’t quitting on them. On him.

He sucks in a breath, opens his mouth to curse him out, spill every insult he can think of, or maybe just shout a bit, but all that comes out is a ragged sob of a breath. He plants his hands on Harry’s chest and shoves him away, sends him stumbling a bit back into his wall. Louis then turns away, leans against the panels all over the counter as he crosses his arms and tries to keep his tears at bay.

It’s just. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for it all to end, and clinging to that last little hope of a reunion was one of the only things that kept him writing so much, really. The point of a hiatus is to return, is it not? Without the return it’s not a hiatus. It’s just a fucking end. A breakup. A falling out. A quit.

Hands settle on his hips, and he immediately kicks back, lands the heel of his foot on Harry’s toes because if there’s anything he needs right now, being touched is probably the last thing.

“Stop it, please Lou,” Harry murmurs, then fits his lips right up behind Louis’ ear and for the first time in a solid few years, let’s his tone lower into his alpha voice, “let me explain.”

“I don’t need your shitty excuses. I’ve known you far too fuckin’ long to fall for—“

“I only have one,” Harry cuts into his hissing, breath warm against his neck as he drapes over his back like he has any right to, “there’s only one reason I’d rather stay solo.”

“What is it, the undivided praise for only your attention starved self?” Louis asks, only getting more mean and defensive the longer they stand like this. He can’t help it. Harry’s pressed all up against him, and Louis always gets a little sassier when boys are close enough to smell every change in his scent. By boys he means Harry. Always Harry.

“No, it’s the rule.”

“The ru..” Louis trails off, stilling completely, squirming stopping as he comprehends what the alpha is saying, what he’s implying, “the rule.”

His voice has gone a bit breathy, but he can’t exactly help it. Not when Harry’s brought up the no in band mating rule to him for the first time in a very long time. And as a reason, no less.

“No band, no rule.” Harry murmurs, then he sets a hand on Louis’ belly, splays it wide as he exhales in a shake against his ear.

“What are you saying?” Louis whispers, closing his eyes and tilting his head when Harry brushes his lips down his neck, touches a kiss to that sensitive spot at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The spot saved for an alpha’s bite.

“Lou, I’ve known you my entire life, do you really need me to explain?” His voice is still all rumbly, but it isn’t his alpha voice.

For being naturally shy and a little more feminine than most would expect, Harry sure can ooze his more stereotypical alpha tendencies when he really wishes to. Louis shivers at the lips on his neck, the voice in his ear, the possessive hand splayed across his stomach.

“You’re talking about mating, Harry. This isn’t..this isn’t little kisses that we pretend are platonic. This isn’t a bit of tension—“

“A bit,” Harry huffs a sarcastic laugh, free hand squeezing Louis’ hip, “remember that time you went into heat and I nearly murdered Paul to stay with you? This isn’t a question of whether or not I want you, it’s just whether or not you’ll let me have you.”

“You didn’t nearly murder Paul.” Louis murmurs, only a little petulantly, thank you. Harry sighs, hands on him gripping his sides and turning him so they’re face to face. Louis immediately starts to fidget, fingers toying with the sleeves of Harry’s shirt, struggling to maintain steady eye contact.

He’s never been afraid to face Harry head on. They’ve seen each other through every stage of their lives, fought and laughed about every little thing they could, stuck together through all of the ups and downs.

It’s just..this is a bit more than they’ve touched. Louis’ surprised, really, that it took this long to come to this. He’s surprised this didn’t happen five, even ten years ago, but the lack of surprise isn’t what’s making him shy. It’s the fact that Harry’s staring at him so unrelentingly, so intensely. With everything he has.

“You realise you’re essentially making me choose, right? Between you and the band?”

“Who says you can’t have both? Maybe the lads would understand. If- if we just talked to them—“

“Getting ahead of yourself.” Louis murmurs, lifting a hand to press through the curls tickling Harry’s shoulders. It had gotten so long at the end of the band; Louis still misses carding through or twisting plaits into those long curls. Maybe he can convince him to grow it out again, offer to do it with him like last time.

Or maybe whatever he says tonight will fuck everything up and they’ll never speak again. It feels impossible, but it isn’t. It really isn’t.

“You’re my most favourite person. I don’t want to make a decision that could fuck us up. What if it doesn’t work out? I can’t lose you.”

“Lou..“

“I can’t lose you too, Haz.” Louis sucks in an overwhelmed breath, eyes fluttering closed when Harry tilts his head down and kisses his temple, his cheek, chest rumbling in a soothing purr.

“You won’t. Never, never.” Harry whispers, a promise he surely can’t guarantee.

Louis sways into him, and allows himself a few minutes of comfort anyway.

***

“So we’re all coming over next weekend, right?”

Louis hums, eyes trained at the edge of the campus lot where the grass meets the walkways, waiting for that messy-haired alpha to round the corner.

“Yeah. Mum’s taking the girls to see Nan. Don’t invite too many people, though.”

“Don’t want to overwhelm your little alpha?” Stan laughs, bumping his shoulder. Louis looks away from the corner and frowns at the beta, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t say stuff like that. Just cause he’s a tad younger doesn’t mean—“

“I wasn’t serious, Lou, chill out. We’re your friends, yeah? We won’t be shitty to him, we know he’s practically your brother.”

“My..” Louis trails off, nose wrinkling at the thought as he laughs, shaking his head, “Harry’s not my brother.”

“There’s a reason that thought disgusts you.” Stan sing songs, smirking knowingly. Louis rolls his eyes and shoves at him playfully, turning away to hide his smile.

“Whatever, I’m going to see what’s held him up, I’ll meet you at yours.”

“No snogging on school grounds!”

Louis flips him off over his shoulder, smiling as he walks against the traffic of pupils making their way out of the school. He and Harry live just a few blocks apart, so they tend to take the bus or walk home together. Being in different years definitely hasn’t stopped them from staying close. In fact, the only time they’re truly apart is if one of them is on holiday, and that’s if their families didn’t coordinate to take one simultaneously.

Rounding the corner, Louis finds himself on the walkway that leads up to the different doors into the building, and crouched down in the grass on his lonesome is Harry, plucking a flower from the grass and adding it to what looks like a crown made by tying stems. Louis stops at the edge of the tarmac, smiling as he watches the alpha concentrate on his weaving, not even noticing the few smatterings of students staring in confusion.

Harry’s either oblivious to the attention he gets, or he just doesn’t care, either way Louis can’t help but admire it, how unapologetically him he is. He can only hope the thirteen year old will stay that way forever, always going against what’s expected and not giving a shit if it’s different.

Louis steps onto the grass to approach him, but finds he isn’t the only one doing so.

“Oi, Styles, playing with flowers again?”

A boy that must be in Harry’s year steps up to him, stares down with a grin that definitely doesn’t look friendly. Harry looks up from his flowers and says something too quietly to hear. He isn’t smiling in hello, which is immediately worrying. Louis picks up the pace.

“—won’t want you anyway. You’re too weak to be an alpha.” The boy, also an alpha, is leaning over to say. Louis steps up just as Harry stands, holding his half-finished crown to his chest.

“You’re wrong.” Harry says, voice low but just a little shaky. He’s never been good with confrontation, not when it’s against himself, anyway.

“Oh yeah?” The other alpha asks, clearly a challenge, before he reaches out and pushes Harry back. It’s a gentle push, really, clearly meant more as a threat than an actual instigation.

It makes Louis’ blood boil anyway.

“Fuck off!” He shouts, stepping up and yanking the random alpha towards him, then using his whole body, swings his arm up and clocks him right across the cheek.

“Shit- what the hell?!” The alpha exclaims, stumbling down to the grass and reaching up to clutch his cheek, which quickly blooms with colour. It’ll probably bruise.

“Is that too strong for an omega, then?” Louis asks, and while the alpha is still reeling, he turns and takes Harry’s hand, dragging him away and not stopping until they’re back around the corner and vaguely safe.

“Lou,” Harry murmurs when they come to a stop, lifting up their joined hands and petting at Louis’ knuckles, his crown of weeds lost somewhere in their haste, “are you okay? I can’t believe you just- holy shit.”

“Does he pick on you normally?” Louis doesn’t pay attention to his worn hand, looks at the boy with a frown. Harry meets his eyes and immediately flushes, shrugging one shoulder.

“It’s not..it isn’t serious.”

“Harry.”

“He and a few others say things sometimes, but it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Louis tugs him closer, thumbs at his chin and makes sure he’s paying attention, trying to calm himself so he doesn’t turn around and head in for another punch, “it’s not okay.”

***

Louis’ walking the halls in a daze, mind still reeling from the meeting he’s just left. As he waits for the lift his head spins with upcoming setups for media training and the pretty uni student alpha he’s apparently going to be taking some photos with. He just hopes it won’t be too long, he’d hate for it to cut into what’s quickly becoming a busy schedule now that their first single is out.

He’s so out of it that he misses the ding of the lift arriving, yet somehow the quietest uttering of a name cuts right through his head and stops him from stepping into the lift.

“Styles will be next, of course. Should be within a few days, probably.”

It’s someone in one of the conference rooms nearby. Louis is stepping up to the wall and getting closer to the slightly ajar door to listen in before he can even consider not doing so. He doesn’t recognise the voice, and he isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

“Obviously,” the person continues after a pause, seemingly on a call, “it’ll take some time but we’ll work it out. He’s far too soft for an alpha, we’re going to keep pushing the womaniser angle to distract from it..yes, too many posh alpha’s unlearning their instincts these days, I know.”

The person laughs, an ugly sound, and Louis turns from the door, doesn’t wait for the lift again and instead takes the stairs, absolutely fuming.

-

By the time Louis gets home, his rage has settled into an overwhelming need to protect. He’s clutching the first bottle of varnish he could find at the little Superdrug in the lobby of the conference building. It’s a dark mauve colour, and he wasn’t paying attention to the choices, was mostly just hoping he wasn’t recognised.

He doesn’t even take off his shoes, trailing rainwater through the foyer and right into the manor, walking in a daze through the rooms until he finds what he’s looking for.

Harry’s sitting on the huge lush couch in the lounge, footie on the screen in front of them though he doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to it, eyes on the screen of his laptop where he has Twitter pulled up.

“How’d the meeting- are you okay?” Harry looks up and blinks a few times, closing his laptop and setting it aside, eyebrows going all furrowed and confused.

He’s wearing a satin shirt that he never wears in public, usually just saves for at home when he wants to be comfortable. It’s a dusty pink colour, and it makes some of the tension seep out of Louis’ shoulders immediately.

He steps across the room and climbs right up into the alpha’s lap, reaches for one of his hands and setting it on his own thigh, splaying the boy’s long fingers apart and shaking the varnish between them.

“Oh, that’s a pretty colour.”

Louis nods once, twists open the bottle and pinches Harry’s finger between two of his own, swiping the brush along his nail to paint them. He’s trembling like a fucking earthquake, and it’s hard to ignore Harry’s free hand trailing up to his hip and squeezing. He gets a swipe on the boy’s skin and curses under his breath, scraping it with his own blunt nail to fix it.

“Lou, what’s wrong? What happened?” Harry asks, and Louis just shakes his head and continues to paint, knows that if he looks up he’ll only find wide worried green eyes..

And a mess of curls that haven’t been decorated with flowers for years. Plush lips that used to be coated with gloss when they’d giggle and break into Anne’s makeup as pups. Cheeks that used to flush so easily at the slightest of compliments. Things that have been taken from him, things he’s actively being trained to be ashamed of. Things Louis loves about him.

But at least he can have this, because the varnish always comes off before they step in front of cameras, but at least for this moment, nobody has to pretend.

“You’re freaking me out.” Harry murmurs when he gets no answer, squeezes Louis’ hip once more with a frown.

“M’fine, hold still.” Louis replies lowly, hands still shaking annoyingly. The anger must’ve made his blood pressure skyrocket as well because there’s sweat gathering on the back of his neck and itching at his underarms.

He reaches up to swipe the back of his hand across his forehead and accidentally pokes a dot of varnish on Harry’s shirt. It’s a nice shirt, too, that pretty satin.

“Shit, I can clean it, I c-can—“

“Louis, Louis!” Harry’s alpha voice shivers down his spine and halts both of his fumbling hands. Louis looks up to meet his eyes immediately, finds all of the worry and confusion he knew he’d see.

“I’m—“

“You’re not okay, Lou,” Harry’s voice softens at once as he gently pries the varnish and brush away, sets them on the table next to them and doesn’t seem to care that the brush gets a few drops on the nice wood as he leans in and presses his nose to Louis’ neck and has a long whiff without preamble.

Louis’ head tips back immediately at it’s own accord. He curls his finger’s into Harry’s soft silky shirt and whimpers.

What the fuck is happening, anyway?

“I think- Lou,” Harry lifts away from his neck, eyes all dilated, hands tight on his hips, and he smells so fucking good, “Lou, I think you’re going into heat.”

“No, m’on suppressants.” Louis mumbles, even as he feels like he’s about to fall the fuck over, unbalanced yet completely comfortable right here in Harry’s lap. Harry’s lap is always comfortable, and oh, that’s definitely his cock fattening up right under his arse.

Harry. Best friend Harry. Childhood best friend who definitely isn’t anything more than platonic with him. He smells so good and Louis wants to bathe in it.

“Haz, baby,” Louis breathes, a bit panicked as he looks down at himself, “I think I’m going into heat.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Oh fuck, we’re too busy for this, why didn’t my supp- I’m not supposed to have one for another two months. Shit, shit.”

“It’s okay,” Harry lifts his hips a bit to dig out his phone, the motion pressing them together just a little tighter, “I’ll just..hold on.”

Maybe it says something that they don’t separate, but Louis isn’t paying attention as Harry navigates through his phone. He’s busy swaying closer, lowering his head to the alpha’s shoulder, nose to his neck to surround himself in that spiced scent he loves so much.

“Liam, I need you to get like, Paul or someone over to ours,” Harry’s chest rumbles as he speaks and makes Louis shiver once more, “no, nothing like that. It’s um..Louis’ going into heat, we think.”

Louis presses in closer, fists tightening in the boy’s shirt as he finds his scent gland and begins to tongue at it in gentle quick sweeps.

“Okay. Okay, t-thanks.” Harry grits out, tossing his phone on the cushion next to them and reaching up, getting a hand on the back of Louis’ neck and squeezing there. Louis gasps, motions going slack as he shudders. His thighs squeeze together around Harry’s lap as slick seeps out of him in response, his own smell surely getting stronger in one huge wave.

“Fuck.” Harry says, deep and all alpha tone right against his ear as he squeezes again. Louis’ stopped moving so there’s no reason to, unless he just wants him to leak more slick.

“Harry,” Louis whines, feels his hips buck and flushes in embarrassment, “I need- I need it.”

Just so there’s no confusion, he rolls his hips again, pressing his arse onto Harry’s cock. There’s a thick heady scent all over the air, and Louis isn’t sure if it’s his own arousal or both of theirs mixed. Either way it’s driving him mad.

“I can’t, Lou.” Harry says, voice pitched like he’s panicking. His chest heaves under Louis’ head.

Louis picks his own head up, blinks through the fuzz of his heat starting and cups the alpha’s cheek, leans in and nuzzles along his other to placate his wide panicked eyes.

“We’ll be okay, alpha.” Louis murmurs, even as slick dribbles out of him again and makes his eyes roll a bit. He bumps their noses together, then plants a soft kiss to the corner of his trembling mouth.

Harry’s phone dings next to them, and it takes the boy a few long beats to drag his eyes away to check it. When he does, he exhales in what sounds like relief but looks like frustration, before he sits up straight and clutches Louis’ thighs.

“They’re here, we gotta go to the front door.”

“Where’re we going?” Louis asks, noses up to Harry’s temple and shakes at the scent surrounding him fully. He’s starting to lose it, a bit. He can feel the waves starting to hit him, soaked in his pants and shaking in his hands. It’s taking a lot of strength not to ask the alpha to just bloody dick him down a bit.

“A heat/rut house, I’d imagine.” Harry murmurs, and he sounds so frustrated. Not the kind of frustrated like the situation is annoying. More like frustrated they’re getting interrupted.

With a bit of pushing and a few words in Harry’s alpha voice, Louis is up on his feet and padding in a daze towards the front door, hands grasping Harry’s wrists like a lifeline, the alpha right behind him steering him by his hips.

They’re just a few steps from the front door, right under the pretty chandelier in their foyer, when the muffled scent of Liam seeps through. Their little procession halts at once as Harry inhales sharply and immediately tugs him back.

Liam’s an alpha. Maybe they should’ve called Paul directly.

Harry turns them and presses them right up against the wall, crowds all up behind him and shields him from everything, then grinds his hard cock right into his arse. Louis’ mouth drops open in a gasp as he arches his back to present himself, fingers stuttering around Harry’s wrists.

“You won’t let anyone else have you,” Harry presses the words against the sensitive skin of his neck, a hard command, before he exhales in a shake and loosens his hold just a little as he remembers himself, “yeah? You won’t?”

“Nobody else.” Louis agrees in a whimper, rocks up on his toes and begs with his body.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t—“ Harry makes a wounded noise and shifts behind him, then suddenly the door is opening next to them. Louis opens his eyes and blinks against the light, seeing that it’s thankfully Paul coming in and not Liam. Paul is a beta, so he won’t set Harry’s alpha off.

Too much, at least.

Harry covers his body again, growls loud in his chest and makes Paul halt and hold up his hands. Harry isn’t the one losing his mind here, though, so he immediately loosens his hold.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

“S’alright, lad,” Paul says, his voice more gentle than Louis’ ever heard it as he steps closer, “I’m going to get him safe, okay? Can you let go?”

“Yeah, I..yeah.” Harry breathes, starts to pull away but can’t go too far, Louis’ hold still tight on his wrists. The alpha sucks in air sharply and twists in Louis’ hold.

“Lou,” he murmurs, “you gotta let go, alright?”

“Please, ‘arry.” Louis rasps in response, cheeks hot with fever and blurred embarrassment, slick still dribbling in his pants and likely very obvious to both men behind him.

“Shh, it’ll be okay,” Harry squeezes his waist firmly, “let go, omega.”

Louis’ fingers release from their stiff grip. He shakes against the wall as that heavy alpha scent fades a bit and Paul’s hands land on him, steering him away from the wall and towards the door.

Louis holds onto Paul so he doesn’t fall right to the ground, and as they meander out of the door he looks over the beta’s shoulder and meets Harry’s eyes. The alpha watches with a deep frown, the heel of his hand pressed to the front of his jeans.

“Alpha.” Louis whispers longingly as Harry falls out of focus. As his heat takes over him, he shakes in Paul’s arms and can only hope he’ll be taken care of even half as good as Harry would.

Given the chance, anyway.

***

Louis wakes to pale blue sheets and the muffled clack of a cuckoo clock.

He sits up and wipes at his eye with a fist, frowning at the spare room door, slightly ajar, which means Harry must’ve peeked in at some point. Fucking weirdo has the quirkiest style of all time. Who actually owns cuckoo clocks anymore?

Louis washes up in the en suite, and can’t help but notice that the spare room is a little different from the rest of Harry’s place. This is Louis’ first time actually staying here, seeing as he doesn’t come to LA much and when he does Harry usually comes to his, but now that it’s morning and the sun is bright through the windows, he’s seeing that the spare is a bit more muted.

There’s a new unopened tooth kit by the sink, one with peppermint toothpaste, which is nice because Louis can’t stand spearmint. The decorating in here is easy on the eyes and home-like. The natural wood of the chifforobe reminds him of his mum’s house, and the bedspread isn’t boring white or too dark. It’s a nice blue cooling fabric that won’t overheat him, and yet there’s a few layers to tug up when he gets cold.

It’s not until he opens up the closet doors that he gets suspicious, because he finds a few shirts and jumpers hung up. He’s thumbing through them and his fingers catch on a red jumper, soft knit and Gucci, because of course it is. It doesn’t look like anything Harry’s worn, though. It’s a slouch fit; sporty, really. Red’s always been his favourite colour.

“It’s for you.”

Louis startles, whirling around to find Harry stepping into the room with a careful smile, a delicious smelling cuppa in his hand which he sets down on the bench at the foot of the bed.

“This isn’t a spare room, is it?”

“No, not really.” Harry confirms, fingers catching at the hem of his shirt as he drops his eyes. Like they’re pups again and Louis’ catching him reading Nicolas Sparks.

“It’s different from the rest of the house.” Louis observes, taking the jumper out of the closet and turning around, stepping a bit closer as he gestures around the room.

“We have different tastes.” Harry nods, following Louis’ gesture and peering around, eyes catching on the rumple of the duvet, nose flaring like he can smell Louis’ scent lingering in the pillow. Bloody hell.

“Why do I have a furnished room in a house I’ve never been in?”

“I’ve been optimistic.”

“You never invited me over.”

“I’ve never been the first one to act here.” Harry turns to meet his eyes again, lifts a finger to motion between them. Louis’ stomach flip flops as he tugs his shirt off and pulls on the jumper. Harry stares as he always has.

Always has.

“You were the first to act yesterday.” Louis comments casually, as if they’re discussing the weather. It’s hard to hide the tremble in his fingers though. This feels like something that’s been building forever and he isn’t completely sure how to go about it, especially when Harry seems to be letting him take the lead as has always been the dynamic for the two of them.

Maybe it won’t always be that way, though. Yesterday threw him for a loop. Standing in that studio listening to a heartbreakingly incredible debut album, just for Harry to throw out that he’d like to mate him, by the way. He’s still reeling.

And at the same time, it doesn’t feel like news. It doesn’t feel like a huge step in a different direction. It feels like an admission of what’s been missing. It feels like exactly what he’s been waiting for for, what, his whole fucking life?

“That wasn’t an action, that was a confession. A..a question.” Harry’s brows furrow as he takes in the jumper on him. Louis tries not to preen under the gaze. Harry told him once that he looks like a freshly-bloomed rose in red, and he remembers that every time he wears the colour now.

Even if it weren’t his favourite colour, maybe he couldn’t be blamed for preferring to wear it. There’s nothing quite like being the one holding all of Harry Styles’ attention, and that feeling still hasn’t gone away after over two decades.

“So what if I never decide, then? If I’m the one who always takes the first step, what happens if I never do? If I never..answer your question?”

Harry chews at his lip for a few beats, before he steps closer, brings them toe to toe and trails his hand over the intricate patterned knitting decorating his side.

“I can pretend I never asked, i-if that’s what you really want.” Harry murmurs, and the pain is evident in his voice even as he speaks. So bloody selfless, he’s always been.

Louis doesn’t drag it out, never one to enjoy this particular boy aching. He reaches for the alpha, sets a hand on his chest and leans into him.

“Maybe I want you to take the first step, did you never consider that?”

Harry’s head shakes immediately, short curls bouncing as he frowns.

“You’re the pushiest person I know, and I’ve never been like, a proper—“

“You’ve always been with me.” Louis interrupts before he can say it. Before he can claim he isn’t a proper alpha. As if there’s such a thing. As if that thought hasn’t been shoved into his head by idiots who want to tame him.

“Lou..”

“You realise I wrote No Control, right? What did you think I meant by powerless, I don’t care it’s obvious? Whatever fuckin’ stereotypes you’ve got in your head about what kind of alpha you’re meant to be are wrong. Me not acting first wasn’t because of you. I never- I’ve never had any doubts about you.”

“What if I want to wear a dress on stage one day?” Harry challenges, though his eyes are starting to do a really pretty sparkly thing, like they do when Louis told a joke hours ago and he’s finally coming around to understand. Louis bites back a smile and tucks a few fingers in the boy’s neck, feeling his pulse rabbiting quickly.

“I’ll be in the wings ready to sock anyone who’s got somethin’ to say about it, obviously.” Louis rolls his eyes, shivers just a bit when Harry cups his cheek and tilts him up, leans in so he doesn’t have to rock up on his toes.

“My feisty omega.” He says affectionately, and Louis has something to say in reply, he does, as soon as the blood stops rushing in his ears so loudly. His eyes slip closed as Harry’s face gets blurry and he waits for the kiss that’s finally going to happen. Not a chaste peck when they’re feeling sweet or ill. A real kiss. Harry’s finally going to take that first step they’ve both been waiting for for so bloody long—

“Can I kiss you?”

Louis huffs a disbelieving laugh, opens his mouth to tell him right off about how he should know by now what the answer is, but before he can there’s lips against his own, swallowing up his sass before it can even escape.

Louis melts a bit, admittedly charmed by the teasing show of cockiness as Harry presses against him full-bodily, looming over him and keeping them close with a possessive hand on his lower back. He kisses like he’s starved for it, lips searing and tongue hot when it licks into his mouth. Louis might get wet at an alarming rate if this goes on like this.

He pulls back, their lips separating with a smack, chests heaving as their eyes meet once more. Harry looks overwhelmingly good, lips dark pink, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and dilated. Louis remembers a few years ago when he was pressed against the wall of their manor, falling into heat while Harry looked at him almost exactly like this.

There’s a reason it’s not a surprise, the thing between them. It’s been a long time coming. They should slow down, probably. Talk about this a bit more.

Louis exhales in a shake and instead leans in for more.

Harry obliges without a single protest.

***

Despite three years of getting used to the dos and don’ts of stardom, Louis still finds himself deep into the hell of Twitter every once in a while.

He’s only human, after all. Sometimes he fucks up a note, or says something a little too brash in an interview, and he wonders how the fans feel about that. It’s strange, how ninety percent of the feedback he finds is so supportive, so loving, and yet it’s that tiny ten percent of shitty anonymous words that get to him.

His head is a mess of ‘too loud’ and ‘unfit omega’ as he shoves through Zayn’s things and finds a dirty shirt he wore yesterday, not thrown in the pile to wash. Louis clutches it carefully and returns to the back of the bus, gently opening the curtain so he can place the shirt up by the head.

It’s not big enough for a proper nest, the bunk, but since they’re parked up outside of the venue for a bus night it’ll have to do. He stands there staring at the organised mess of things he could find, mostly pillows and clothes, and can’t ignore the itch under his skin telling him he’s missing something.

Zayn’s lounging in the front having a smoke so he doesn’t seem to notice anything’s wrong as Louis slips past him and right out of the bus. They’re parked strategically so that nobody can get a camera on this side of the buses so he doesn’t worry about it as he makes his way down to the one just behind, opening the door and climbing in without knocking.

Harry and Niall sit in the kitchenette area, having a laugh while Niall strums on his guitar quietly. Liam’s voice is filtering in from the back, quiet but happy like he’s on the phone with family. Louis steps up and stops a good distance away from them, fingers twitching at his sides as he tries to decide how to go about this.

As it turns out, he doesn’t even have to decide. Harry’s nose twitches and he looks up, taking one look at him before standing up, immediately abandoning what he was doing.

“One moment, I’ll be right back.” Harry says to Niall, shoving his shit aside and approaching him.

“Sure you will.” Niall laughs from his spot, popping open a pistachio with a grin.

Harry doesn’t pay him any mind, taking Louis’ hand and looming right over him, eyes searching his. He’s gotten bloody tall in the last few years, and Louis will never admit it out loud, but he kind of likes it.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, nose twitching again like he can smell the displeasure in Louis’ scent. He probably can.

“I..need your jumper.” Louis says, staring at the soft grey fabric right in front of his face. Harry’s eyebrows furrow, ever the expressive lad he is.

“Okay um, which one?”

“The one you’re wearing.”

Harry blinks a few times but doesn’t seem to mind, letting go of his hand and tugging the jumper over his head, left in just a plain white tee. He hands it over and Louis has to force himself not to lift it for a whiff. He can smell the spices from here. It’ll do.

“T-thanks.” Louis blurts, only catching one beat of Harry’s confused expression before he bolts back out of the bus, rushing back to his own. Zayn’s mostly asleep when he walks by again, and when he gets to his nest he slides back the curtain and carefully places the jumper next to the pile of things that are mostly Louis’, wanting Harry’s scent to be isolated with his own.

He leans back away and looks over the nest, and breathes out a good bundle of tension, shoulders dropping just a bit.

There’s a clack of heeled boots on the centre aisle, and Louis sucks in a sharp breath, grabs the curtain and yanks it closed just as Harry steps into the back of the bus. Their eyes meet, and Louis does exactly nothing to seem casual, just stands there with a heaving chest and fiddling thumbs. He can only hope what he feels isn’t written all over his face.

“Lou, what’s wrong?” Harry asks, meeting him at the bunk, hand reaching out to touch his upper arm, palming up to his shoulder and firmly pressing into the aching muscles there. Louis exhales shakily and steps into the comfort, winding his arms around Harry’s middle and shoving his face into the alpha’s chest.

“Nothing.” He says, muffled into his shirt as if Harry hadn’t known him for fucking eighteen years and knows when he’s lying.

“Right..did Simon call you or something?” Harry asks, not entertaining his bullshit for even a moment.

“No. Just- just read some tweets. S’not a big deal.”

“Big enough deal for you to be nesting,” Harry huffs, then smiles softly when Louis pulls back with a shocked frown, “what? You think after all this time I need to see the nest to know you’re nesting?”

Louis wants to be affronted, but in truth he just feels seen in a way that Harry has shown he’s capable of time and time again, and yet it still makes his eyes a bit itchy. Harry smells really nice, and even though his jumper is already in the nest, his shirt smells even stronger after being pressed against his skin all day.

“Can you lay with me?” Louis blurts, instead of asking for the shirt like he intended. He frowns at himself, hides his pink cheeks in the alpha’s chest.

“You..want me to go in your nest? You’ve never- are you sure?” Harry sounds a bit breathless, and Louis tries not to think of the implications of his own question. What it means to ask an alpha to come into his nest, especially as an unmated omega.

An omega’s nest is their safe space, the spot where they can surround themselves with comfort when they really need it. Inviting others in is common when it’s an omega inviting their pups, or if they’re feeling particularly needy, their mate.

Harry isn’t his mate. Louis wants him to join anyway, and if Harry’s wide eyes are any sign, he knows how big of a deal it is too.

Louis takes his hand, chewing on his own lip nervously as he slowly slides open the curtain, revealing the nest tucked inside. Harry’s seen him nesting before, whether it was giving in to cuddles or accidentally stumbling into the one he’d set up in his closet when they were younger, but Louis still feels nervous.

Louis pats the centre of the collection, and with a bit of careful finagling, Harry ends up curled exactly how Louis wants him, his long legs tucked and comfortable on his side. Louis climbs up into the nest and tugs the curtain closed, ensuring there are no gaps before he situates himself right up against the alpha, fronts pressed together, limbs tangling around each other.

Once everything is in it’s place, Louis finds himself completely comforted, the tension seeping out of him by the second, everyone he loves’ scents surrounding him, and Harry completely invading all of his senses.

“Love you.” Louis whispers, only wishing he could convey his gratitude more strongly. Harry’s arms tighten around him and his lips touch to his hair.

“Love you too, omega.”

Louis shivers and closes his eyes, allows it all to fade away with the certainty that he’ll be taken care of.

***

Louis’ lips are still tingling as he slowly spreads butter over toast, the muffled sounds of footie coming in from the other room.

The knife trembles in his hand as he remembers just half an hour before, when they were pressed together in a way they’ve never been before, setting all of his nerve endings alight.

Kissing Harry is very different from kissing Harry. He’s kissed people before, whether staged or genuine, but he never knew such a common gesture could make his heart soar just with the memory.

He sets down the knife, stares at his sad excuse for toast and turns from it, storming out of the kitchen and into the lounge, where Harry stares blankly at the screen in front of him, clearly feeling just as scattered as he is.

“Okay.” Louis huffs, loud and angry, though he isn’t sure exactly why. Harry looks up to him and sucks that pretty bottom lip into his mouth before answering, which is completely unnecessary, Louis reckons.

“Okay?” Harry repeats.

“We’re going to talk about it now.” Louis claims, as if he wasn’t the one who pulled away upstairs. As if it wasn’t him who made a stupid excuse about breakfast and separated them for..

Well, he hasn’t figured out the reason for it yet. Harry’s the one who sprung all of this on him, anyway. They’ve been strictly (mostly strictly) friends since they were babies, and Harry told him he wants them to mate yesterday. Surely Louis’ allowed a bit of dramatics.

“Okay,” Harry says again, straightening his back a bit, “what exactly do we need to discuss, again?”

“Wha— what do you mean? This is like, a big thing here. It’s not just something we can do as if it won’t change things!”

“You don’t want things to change?”

Louis’ mouth snaps shut. He crosses his arms, knowing he probably looks petulant but doing it anyway. He looks away, but his words are clear.

“Yeah. I do. But we need to talk about it so there’s no confusion.”

“Sounds good,” Harry says, and then he’s reaching out and snagging Louis’ shirt, tugging him closer, “talk, then.”

Louis frowns deeply as he’s manhandled down into Harry’s lap, thighs all spread around him, straddling his hips and pouting. The alpha probably loves it, the fucker.

“I’m not..I’m never going to properly listen to what you say, you realise that?”

“I’ve known you since I was in nappies. Reckon I know a thing or two by now.” Harry rolls his eyes, something he’s never been able to properly do without looking silly, and he knows it. Louis smiles anyway, never one to not find it funny, and reaches out to tweak his nipple.

“Listen to me. I’m not going to be quiet and beg for you like whatever bloody leggy models that fawn over you. I’m not that kind of omega.”

“Right,” Harry lifts a brow, his smirk fading a bit as he thumbs at Louis’ hips, “well I’ve been told a few times that I’m not the right kind of alpha, so maybe that’s why we fit so well. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to fall for you.”

Louis can feel the heat itching at his ears. He tucks a few fingers into Harry’s collar and tries not to squirm in pleasure.

“I used to think we got mixed up somehow. Like we got each other’s presentation.”

“I don’t think so. You’ve got it a bit wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.” Louis scoffs, reaching in for another tweak. He never gets there, though, hand paused midair as he freezes, eyes widening at the feeling of long fingers prodding at his lower back, touching at his waistband and tucking inside.

“You are. You said you’ll never beg for me, but you have. I’ve seen it.”

“Thought we were pretending that never happened?” Louis asks breathlessly, resisting the urge to press back against the touch.

“Lou,” Harry sighs, eyes resolutely on his lips, “we’ll talk about whatever you want, okay? Just. You smell so fucking good—“

“Make the first move then.” Louis says, and he’d probably lift a brow all sassy-like too, but instead he finds himself biting back a whimper as Harry’s fingers slip right under his joggers and pants in one go, and immediately delve right to where he’s been leaking a bit ever since he was manhandled into sitting in his alpha’s lap.

Could anyone blame him? He’s had a lifetime’s worth of being around Harry Styles and his flirting without giving into any of it. Maybe he could beg for him. He is a bit desperate at this point.

Maybe he will beg for him.

“You wanna knot me first? Then we can talk?”

“Fuck.” Harry chokes, fingers stilling and eyes wide when they meet his like he hadn’t even considered the possibility of them fucking right now. As if Louis isn’t sat in his lap with damp pants.

Maybe Harry will beg for him.

“You want that, baby?” Louis asks in a murmur, grinds forward into the boy’s lap, then back against his fingers. He’s teasing. He knows he is. He’d continue too, if the world didn’t start spinning and he found himself falling back against the cushions, pressed down by his most favourite boy in the world and kissed hard before anymore words can escape.

“I want everything,” Harry bites out against his lips, before grinding them together, hitching Louis’ leg up so it feels really damn good for both of them, “fucking- I want all of you.”

“You can have it,” Louis admits, blatant and honest before he can stop himself, “you’ll be the first.”

Harry’s breath catches audibly. He pulls away from his lips, cheeks pinking.

“The first?” He repeats, though the expression he’s wearing makes it obvious that he knows exactly what they’re talking about.

“What? You think I’m just gonna let any random alpha knot me?”

“Not even Eleanor?”

“Seriously? Don’t tell me you actually think I ever had any feelings for her.”

“I-I didn’t want to assume.”

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” Louis tugs at a stray curl and tries to contain a fond smile, “can’t believe I’m letting you be the first to knot me.”

“First and last.” Harry says, quickly like he doesn’t think about it first. Their eyes meet for a few intense moments before Louis loses his impatience and lifts his hips, shoves at his joggers and pants until they’re mid thigh, unable to lower any further due to Harry being incessantly on him.

“Help.” Louis whines, wriggling until Harry stops staring and reaches in to tug the clothes the rest of the way down his legs, eyes dark when they look him over.

“You’re proper fit, y’know.” He drawls, and his awe definitely shouldn’t be as charming as it is.

“You’ve seen me in the nude a million times over.”

“Yeah but now you won’t pinch me for complimenting you.”

“Oh, you thought that was going to stop?”

Harry reaches for his wrists preemptively, smiling all big and sunnily right in his face. Louis lets out a giggle, just a little one, and then he’s got a neck full of alpha, shivering as his gland is lapped at messily, their scents combining. Louis hopes it stains the walls, their scents, mixes together until the room smells like theirs.

He hopes when they mate he gets stained even worse. Hopes he walks by a crowd of fans and they all smell that spiced chai on him and know he’s taken, and Harry’s taken by him.

“C’mon, alpha.” Louis whispers, fingers twitching at the back of Harry’s head as he’s overloaded with fantasies. Fantasies that could easily come true. Fantasies that will.

Maybe neither of them will beg. Maybe they’ll just fall together like they always have, but more. Maybe they’ll just be, and nobody will have anything to say about it.

Harry’s smell gets more heady, stronger, and Louis glances down between them to find what he thought he might. The alpha’s thrown off his own trousers and now clutches his cock with one big hand, groaning at whatever mild relief he’s getting.

“It’ll feel better inside.” Louis says, not meaning for it to sound as dirty as it does. Ah well.

“Should I just shove it all in then? Without any prep?”

“You’re just trying to get me to say your cock is big.”

Harry presses his grin against Louis’ jaw, and with his free hand shoves two fingers right up in him without any warning.

Louis moans, too caught off guard to stop it, and it only makes Harry smirk harder, fingers making squelching noises with how wet Louis is.

“Sometimes..sometimes you’d step out of the bus or whatever hotel room you were in smelling just like this. You’d look so soft and satisfied and I’d think about it for the rest of the day.”

“What would you think about?” Louis asks, chest heaving as he grinds against Harry’s fingers uncontrollably.

“How you’d just had your fingers up your arse. How you’d just come. I’d wonder what you were thinking about while getting off and it’d drive me mad, sometimes, wondering who you were thinking about.”

“All that observing and you never stopped to wonder why I didn’t just take a shower?”

Harry pauses for a moment, then presses in a third finger quickly, almost angrily as he narrows his eyes.

“You knew I was staring.”

“You’re always staring at me.”

“Louis.”

“Yes, Harold, I don’t think I ever questioned whether or not you have feelings for me, just like how I never questioned my own. It was just a matter of waiting to see which one of us would break first- fuck, fuck right there.” His back arches as Harry’s fingers press to his prostate, then slowly move in circles, giving him a constant thrum of pleasure zipping up and down his spine.

“You’ve been teasing me for years.” Harry says. He sounds accusing, but reluctantly impressed.

“Course I have. Did you ever think I- god, yeah, did you not realise I felt the same?”

“Took me a bit, but yeah I knew. By the time I realised, we were..” He trails off, taking his fingers away and wincing.

“Fucked into contracts. I know.” Louis finishes for him, offering what he hopes is a comforting smile.

Harry frowns, holding himself up with one hand as he cups Louis’ neck with the other, thumbing at the sensitive skin of his mating spot, making him shudder a bit.

“I can’t mark you. We can’t mate.” He says like he forgot who they are, where they are. Louis smiles sadly and places a hand on top of his.

“We will, baby.” Louis murmurs, spreading his legs and pulling the alpha closer as his pretty eyes well up.

“Wasn’t planning on crying during our first time.” Harry mutters angrily at himself, sniffling hard and hiding his face. Louis smiles and pets at his curls.

“I love you. More than anything, I reckon.”

Harry laughs through his tears and presses them together again. Despite his emotions he’s still hard, and maybe it’s funny but Louis’ too ready to poke fun right now.

“First and last, c’mon.” He urges, lifting his hips and begging with his body. Harry exhales against his skin but finally fucking complies, pressing his cock along his cleft and collecting the slick there, coating himself as if it’s lube.

“The day we mate is the day you go off birth control too, yeah?” Harry says, then starts to press in like that’s a normal thing to say at this exact moment.

Louis throws an arm over his eyes and laughs through the sensations of being stretched and simultaneously having the pup talk.

“Haven’t even knot me yet and you’re talking about knocking me up.”

“Shut up, we both love kids,” he replies, though it’s a bit gritted as he tries to press in slowly and steadily, “you’ll be so pretty pregnant, Lou, I just know it.”

“We’ll get there.” Louis sighs, not exactly mindful of keeping the conversation fully going as Harry bottoms out, leaving him full to the brim.

“Does it feel good?” Harry asks softly, almost hesitantly. Louis finds the boy’s shoulder and digs his blunt nails in, clenching around him and making them both groan.

“Would feel even better if you moved.”

Harry doesn’t tease anymore. He pulls nearly all the way out and presses back in fluidly, then does it again, working up a slow thorough rhythm. Louis’ eyes flutter, gasping shakily. Every time Harry presses back into him, he gets a jolt of pleasure.

Then he picks up the pace, hand tight on Louis’ thigh to keep him bent as he starts to shove in harder.

“Oh, f-fuck.” Louis moans, fisting Harry’s shirt that they never fucking took off, head tipping back as the boy gets the angle just right.

“S’good?” Harry asks in a bit of a slur. Louis reckons he might have a bit of a service kink.

“Gonna come if you keep- oh, Haz, yeah.”

Harry sucks at his bared neck a little harder, finds his way to his mating spot and licks a fat stripe right up the entirety of it.

Louis’ body gives a violent shiver as he spills between them, tightening like a vice around him. Harry makes a noise, half surprised and half turned on, and starts to slow. Louis kicks at his hip, pants as he urges him on.

“M’an omega, H. I can go twice, don’t stop.”

“Fuck.” Harry breathes in reply, then starts up his thrusts once more. He picks up a much more brutal pace than he was going before, and Louis’ never been more thankful that the boy works out until now.

“Don’t stop,” Louis says again, back arching as his prostate is slammed with every thrust, “c’mon, give me y’knot.”

As if it was waiting for permission, Harry’s knot begins to thicken, nudging against him and stretching him out even more. Louis holds on for dear life, moans softening to breathless gasps.

He wonders, wildly, why they ever waited for this. He remembers every heat he’s gone through alone and regrets ever hesitating, ever pulling away, ever stopping himself from tugging this alpha closer, giving him- giving himself what they both have always wanted.

“I’ll have all the pups you could ever want,” Louis murmurs, tucks his chin to his chest and shakes as Harry’s thrusts go erratic, “give you a fuckin’ million of them.”

“Lou, Lou.” Harry whines, sounding absolutely ruined as he presses in tight once more and locks them together, groans open-mouthed against his neck as he comes.

Louis reaches down between them and squeezes his cock once, comes a second time with the little aid of his own touch. He’s thought about this more times than he’d like to admit, being pressed down and filled with Harry’s knot, but nothing he could imagine quite lives up to it actually happening.

“Love you so much,” Harry whispers against his skin, trembling as he just keeps coming and coming, “want everyone to know. Wanna tell them all.”

Louis just hangs on, catches his breath as he basks in the mind blowing feeling of being bonded with another.

***

The day had begun with overwhelmed excitement, Louis and Harry finally getting out for winter hols with the confirmation that neither of them are leaving town for Christmas.

Their families staying means they get to spend their time together, and that’s only ever a good thing. They’re walking home, on a high after storming off of campus knowing that they won’t have to return until January. It’s been snowing so they hold hands, Louis toeing precariously across the kerb’s ledge, giggling when he slips and Harry’s hand tightens.

“Hard to believe you’re turning eighteen in a few days.” Harry says, free hand on the strap of his knapsack, eyes on Louis’ feet as they slowly make their way along the icy walkway.

“Whatever, Harold, you know what we should talk about instead? X factor auditions, us two, next year.”

“I thought you said you were giving up on that after getting no’s last time?”

“Pssh,” Louis rolls his eyes, sidesteps a mound of icy slush and bumps into Harry’s arm, “reckon I just need you there with me. Cradle to the grave, remember?”

“Can’t be to the grave if there’s only one winner.”

Louis steps away from the ledge and back to the regular path, squeezes Harry’s hand with a frown.

“What’s up with you today? Why’re you being so pessimistic?”

“I just..I feel like we only do what you want to do. Like my whole life has been a certain path and I can’t change any of it.”

Louis slows to a stop, their loosely dangled hands tugging Harry to halt as well. The alpha still doesn’t look at him, pouting off into the distance with every ounce of teenage disregard he can muster up.

“I didn’t realise you felt that way. I choose stuff to do that I think you’ll like, so I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

“I’m implying that you’re bossy.”

“You..you told me just a few months ago that you like when I boss you around.”

Harry heaves a big sigh and tugs his hand away, shoves both of them into his pockets instead.

“It’s my street.”

“I know?” Louis tosses up his hands, huffs an incredulous laugh. He knows this is where Harry turns to his street and Louis continues three over to his own. They’ve done this walk a million times over. He doesn’t understand what the dramatics are about.

Harry doesn’t say anything. He turns around and starts to walk away as if that’s the end of the conversation. Louis balks for a few moments before jumping after him, slipping a bit in the ice as he reaches him, gripping the boy’s arm and stopping him.

“Haz, hey, what the fuck? Don’t just walk off. Tell me what you don’t like to do and we’ll stop doing it. You’ve never had a problem telling me off before if you don’t like something.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Harry mumbles, shifting away so Louis’ hand falls back to his side.

“Well, too bad. We’re in this together and I’m not going to let you—“

“Let me? You know, mouthy omegas only lead to weaker alphas, so maybe that’s why I’m like this, because I’ve never been able to get away from you.”

Louis exhales slowly, breath visible as he stops reaching for him, instead wraps his arms around his middle, blinks hard at the alpha as he tries his best not to show just how much those words hurt.

“You listening to what your friends from school think again? Is that why you’re being such a colossal knothead right now?”

“I’ve never felt like a proper alpha. Maybe it’s because I’ve never spent my time around a proper omega.” Harry looks uncomfortable as he says it, but he says it anyway, loud and clear and devastating.

“A proper omega, right. Should I make you tea and offer to suck your cock? Would that make me a proper fucking omega?” Louis reaches out and shoves Harry’s shoulder. The boy goes skidding a bit on the ice, and when he rights himself and looks up he looks abruptly more like himself, eyes wide and glassy, mouth slacked, regret etched over his face. None of it matters, not now that the words have already been said.

“I-I..”

“I thought we understood each other,” Louis spits, hands so tight at his sides that he can feel his nails biting into his palms, reminding him he forgot his gloves again, “neither of us fitting into whatever shitty boxes we’re meant to go into. Maybe I’m bossy and I push too much, but for how much I push you’ve always pulled twice as hard.”

“Lou..” Harry whispers, hands twitching like he wants to reach out for him. Louis realises he’s started crying, his cheeks gone cold and wet. He doesn’t reach up to wipe them away, instead folds his arms over his chest and lets the emotion show.

“Is this weak enough for you,” he asks, before taking a step back, entire chest aching with the increasing space, “I’ve been told I’m not a good omega by many people, but I never thought it’d be by you.”

He turns, scrubs a hand down his cheeks as he storms away, crossing the street to continue his walk home. He doesn’t look back to see if Harry comes after him, he can smell that spiced scent fading and knows he isn’t being followed.

Somehow, that part hurts the most.

-

He’s staring blankly at the empty audition paperwork for X factor when he hears the door open downstairs. He doesn’t get up to see who’s arrived, knows it’s Harry from the twins’ loud screechy hellos and mum’s warm informal of what’s for dinner.

Louis’ only been home for an hour. One measly hour since their row on Harry’s street. He sulks in his bed and picks up the empty papers, tosses them into the bin next to his bed just moments before the door creaks open. Harry’s never bloody knocked in his entire life, but this might be the one time Louis wishes he would, just so he could tell him to fuck off.

Despite thinking this, he looks up and finds Harry all puffy-eyed and wringing hands and wants to pull him into a cuddle just like he always has. Maybe that’s the problem, though, the fact that Louis pulls him in and doesn’t ask.

Maybe Harry would say no, if he had the choice.

“Talked to mum,” Harry says once the door is closed again, standing next to it awkwardly, “she gave me a proper lecture. Told me I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Well I am her favourite, so obviously she’d take my side.”

“She also took it because it’s the right one, though.”

Louis shrugs, picking at his duvet and ignoring the itching at his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry anymore, especially about this, especially in front of him.

“Look, I know I can be obnoxious sometimes, but that’s just- me, I guess. I’ve never felt like I have to be a certain way around you, and maybe I just pushed too much. You’re growing into your presentation and I—“

“No, fuck, please stop.” Harry steps across the room, sinks onto the bed in front of him, tangles his fingers into the duvet and squeezes. Louis watches his hands, an aching hurt still spread all the way down to his toes.

“You were right,” Harry says, voice soft and pained, “everything I said, it wasn’t my words. I don’t know why I listen to them, the guys at school, but none of that was even- fuck, it’s actually so stupid, you’re gonna hate me.”

“I won’t.” Louis says, honest before he can remember that he’s supposed to be pissed right now. Harry smiles, small and private, before chewing on his lip with a defeated sigh.

“I’m scared to audition, especially with you there to watch. Every time you bring it up you just seem so excited and instead of simply saying what I’m feeling I just lashed out and said the first thing that came to mind.”

“Maybe there’s a reason that came to mind,” Louis chews on the inside of his lip, sniffling wetly, “I never asked if you really wanted to, I just assumed it was another thing we were going to do together, and I..I just assumed that’s how it would be forever, but I never considered you might want something else.”

Someone else, Louis’ head whispers. He tries to ignore it, but it’s hard when he’s spent his entire life thus far with this boy and definitely planned to spend the rest of it with him. He never wondered if maybe Harry didn’t want that. Never even thought it once.

“I don’t want anything else. I just get so like, insecure about being A enough that I feel like I can’t do anything sometimes. The only place I feel safe from that is with you. Lou, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said.”

“Dunno what you’re scared of. You could really make it, y’know, at X factor.”

“Not alone, I can’t.” Harry eyebrows knit as he loosens his hold on the duvet and instead touches a few fingers to Louis’ knee, like he’s asking if it’s okay to touch. Louis wipes at his eyes and gives him an exasperated look, but he kneels forward, crawls across the bed and lands himself in the alpha’s arms, tucking his nose into Harry’s shoulder and sighing.

“I’m still mad at you,” he murmurs into the soft fabric of his tee, “you said a lot of shit to claim not meaning any of it.”

“They weren’t my words, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” Harry hugs him tight, breath hitching against him, “you’re a good omega. The best I’ve ever known. The best anyone, really.”

Louis rolls his eyes, albeit fond, but doesn’t offer up any forgiveness. It’ll take a while for Harry to earn that. For now, he just allows the hug and wonders if there really is a point to auditioning again after getting sent home twice.

He shakes the doubts from his head, knowing it’s just his emotions playing at him. He wants it, so he’ll get it, and maybe Harry will get it too, that’d be wicked. There is only one winner, but who knows what will happen.

Third time’s the charm, he hopes.

***

Louis’ fiddling with a bottle of foundation when the door opens. He looks up and smiles, eyeing his alpha with wide eyes as he stands up and approaches him.

“No tits out tonight?” He asks, smoothing a hand up the white vest Harry’s got on under a deep blue suit.

“And to think you hated my showing off in the beginning.” Harry shakes his head with a heaving sigh. It’s true, Louis did used to passive aggressively try to button up Harry’s shirts years ago when he started only wearing them half done.

“Only ‘cause I’m the jealous type,” Louis reaches for his hand, finds it trembling even after all this time, even after he just sold out this whole venue yesterday already, “you’re gonna smash it, baby.”

“I know. Got m’lucky colour on.” Harry pulls him close, smiling against his temple. Louis grins and leans in, touching a kiss against the blue of his suit lapel.

“I’ll be up in the box. Try not to draw any attention to it, alright? Mitch says it’s got  shitty tinting.”

“Okay,” Harry drawls slowly, sneaking a few fingers under his hem and petting at his hip, “anything I do during Sweet Creature isn’t my fault.”

Louis laughs, and Harry laughs in response.

It’s funny, but only funnier an hour later when Harry spends an entire half minute staring at him from the stage, then proceeds to grin like a loon when Kacey accidentally fluffs the lyrics to Still the One. Louis should’ve known that warning him not to be obvious would’ve only made it worse.

Maybe he did know.

Maybe he wanted it to happen.

-

“Is it better? Up there on your own?” Louis asks, sat between Harry’s legs, playing with the boy’s fingers and popping cashews in his mouth with his free hand. Harry’s rubbing at his hip and mostly watching whatever film’s playing in front of them.

“It’s not better, but it’s not worse. Hard to compare it, they’re not that different.”

“Isn’t it different though? Selling out Madison Square Garden with us versus on your own? You’re like, like a bloody phoenix or something. Rising to stardom from the ashes of your teenage boyband.”

Harry’s hand stills. He curls it around his waist and splays it over his belly, tilting his head to kiss his shoulder.

“Are you upset with me?”

“No,” Louis sighs, tossing his cashews and tangling their fingers together, turning his head to kiss along Harry’s jaw, placate him a bit, “I just..m’frustrated. Was a lot easier to pretend we weren’t together when we still got to be in public together, at least.”

“Are you feeling cooped up? We can sneak off for a bit, I can skip out on the radio interview tomorrow.”

“I’ve felt cooped up for eight years now, I’m used to it,” Louis blinks a few times, sighing heavily and sitting up, pulling away from Harry and turning around to face him, propped up on his knees, “I’m sorry. I’m taking it out on you when it’s not your fault.”

“Would rather you take it out on me than anyone else, and that includes yourself, Lou.” Harry takes his hand, tugs him right back in. Louis crawls onto him, facing him this time, and turns himself into a human blanket, draped over the alpha, soaking up his warmth.

“Do you ever wish we never auditioned? Just stayed back in our little village, you’d inherit the bakery while I teach primary, the school so small I end up teaching our own pups.”

Harry’s chest puffs under him as he takes a big breath, long fingers gliding down the knobs of Louis’ spine.

“Barbra would be so happy. She used to tease me about you, saying one only takes home that many sweets for someone they love.”

“God, I miss those cocoa cookies.”

“Ugh, I miss the shortbread biscuits.” Harry hums, sounding a bit sleepy. He’s probably tired from his show, to be fair.

“What about the lemon bars?”

“The lemon bars.” Harry whispers, sounding heartbroken. Louis huffs a soft laugh, tracing the clean lines of his anchor inked into his wrist.

“So would you? Not audition if you could do it over?”

“No,” Harry murmurs, no ounce of hesitation as he squeezes them closer together, “I’m proud of what we’ve done, together and on our own. You have a voice that deserves to be heard, even if it takes you a million years to release your album.”

“Fuck off, I don’t want to half arse it.” Louis pinches him lightly, rolling his eyes. Harry pinches him back, then takes his wrists and rolls them, pinning him down before it can even begin to escalate to a pinching war.

“I mean it,” Harry says breathlessly, all pretty smile right up in his face, “you deserve this, and you don’t have to worry about touring, you’re going to fuckin’ smash it when you get there, and I’m going to be right along with you just like I’ve always been.”

Louis smiles, flushing. Of course Harry would see through his questions, knowing he’s nervous about writing, about writing for himself, releasing for himself, touring for himself. It all scares him shitless, a bit.

“What if we end up touring at the same time?”

“We’ll work out the dates. No more than two weeks, yeah?”

“Yeah. You’ll be there.” Louis reaches up to scrub at his cheek as if it’ll rid of the pleased heat flooding them.

“I’ll be there. To the grave.” Harry nuzzles at his collarbones and opens his mouth, starts to suck at his skin, teeth making an appearance because the alpha can’t go one day without ensuring he’s left at least one mark on him.

“To the grave.” Louis repeats in a murmur, and tangles his fingers in the boy’s curls.

***

Louis’ back is pressed against soft sand, giggles erupting from him consistently as little fingers tickle along his sides.

“Uncle! Uncle!” He cries, reaching up and tugging at Harry’s hood. The younger boy laughs and relents, sitting up and crossing his arms triumphantly.

“So you agree?” He asks, no shame in fighting dirty for what he wants. He knows how ticklish Louis is.

“Yes, fine, we’ll play Power Rangers.” Louis sits up with a loud sigh as if he doesn’t want to. He just likes making Harry annoyed, sometimes.

“Which colour do you want?” Harry asks, kneeling over to his bag and emptying it’s contents all over the grass.

“Pink.” Louis answers, hiding a smile as Harry’s head whips to him immediately, eyes wide with sadness. The alpha seems to struggle for a minute, deciding whether or not to argue for his favourite one, but Louis takes pity on him.

“I’m joking, Haz. Red, obviously.”

Harry pouts but sags in relief immediately, picking up the pink ranger figure and setting it on his own lap, before stopping and frowning at the pile, picking up the bag to look inside.

“Where’s the red one?”

Louis stands up and steps out of the large sandbox, crouching down next to the boy and looking over the figures laying in the grass. It’s unlike Harry to lose his toys, especially the red one. Louis’ favourite is the red one, so if anything Harry’s more protective over it than any of the others, even if his own favourite is pink.

It’s then that Louis spots another boy, stood next to the swings with a girl, a familiar red ranger in his hand as he laughs and shows it off excitedly. He must’ve taken it when they were wrestling, or maybe when they were racing, or when they climbed the tree. Harry’s bag has been sitting here unattended for a while, to be fair.

“I think we should get mum.” Louis mumbles, looking away from the boy across the park and over towards the benches where Anne sits, reading her book and glancing up at them every now and then. He’d probably have started over towards her and everything, except when he looks back he finds Harry’s stood up and is currently marching across the park.

“Haz? Wait!” Louis stands up, stumbling after the young alpha. By the time he catches up, Harry’s already reached the boy and is puffing his chest up, fists at his sides as he growls in his throat. Louis comes to a stop next to him, faltering midair before he can reach out and stop the boy. He isn’t sure why, but he feels like he shouldn’t stop this.

“You stole it.” Harry’s saying, eyebrows furrowed in anger, cheeks pink from the confrontation.

“I found it,” the thief says, nose in the air, “it’s mine now.”

Louis scoffs, crossing his arms, but all of his anger disappears as he watches Harry, sweet little Harry, reach out and shove the other boy to the ground. The thief falls onto the wood chips and immediately starts to wail, dropping the red ranger which Harry swipes up immediately.

“Harry—“ Louis reaches for him breathlessly, still reeling from the act of violence.

“Harry Edward!” Anne’s voice rings out sharp and loud across the park, and then chaos ensues as the thief’s mum and Anne give their boys loud lectures and reprimand them right there next to the swings.

At some point Louis sneaks away from the commotion and makes his way back to the sandbox, plopping down on the wooden logs barricading the sand, chin in his hand as he watches the consequences of both boys’ actions.

After what feels like years, the mums end up having a chat and Harry backs away from his trouble, sneaking back to the sand as well, lip between his teeth as he sits in the grass at Louis’ feet and holds up the ranger to him like a peace offering.

It’s so different, seeing his little seven year old alpha be so sweet after fighting a boy to get Louis’ toy back. Despite his softness, his cherubic dimples and bright eyes, Harry can be fiercely protective when he wants to be, something that seems to be exclusively over Louis. He isn’t complaining. It makes him feel special.

“Thanks.” Louis says as he takes the figure, squeezing it in his fist. He slides off of the log and down into the grass with him, and curls right up against the small boy, nuzzling into his shoulder.

He hopes they’ll be best friends for life.

***

“Have you ever gotten so used to depending on another person that you don’t realise how far gone you are until they go away? Like, you spend all this time laughing together and then a month passes and it hits you all at once that you haven’t laughed in all that time? They take the laughter when they leave, that’s the part they don’t warn you about.”

There’s a few long seconds of silence, before a gentle manicured hand touches his inner elbow.

“I’ve no idea what the fuck you’re on about,” Danielle says, voice pitying and confused, “I’m gonna call Alberto, alright?”

“No, no he’ll just give me a lecture, I fuckin’ hate lectures. Hey, did you like the boat? We picked the most photogenic one, y’know.”

“Yes, Louis, the rags will love it. Now who should I call?”

Louis sighs, scrubbing at his eyes and staring over the balcony railing at Mexico’s beautiful night sky. It’s lovely. Everything’s just so fucking lovely.

“Just call Liam. He might not’ve flown home yet.” Louis sighs, and then he turns to the potted plant to his left and proceeds to vomit up the entire contents of his stomach.

-

“Is it better or worse? Than it was with Eleanor?” Liam asks, nose scrunched in mild disgust as Louis peels off his vomit-stained shirt.

“Different pretty girl, same old shit,” Louis shrugs, “I just never realised how much easier it was in the band, y’know? It was shitty then too, but at least I had you lot at the end of the day.”

“Had Harry, you mean.” Liam says, huffing a laugh. Louis tries to frown, but his chest just gets all achy instead. He slumps down onto the thin ledge of the bathtub and sighs shakily. He hates being away from Harry, it’s like he’s left one of his limbs an ocean away.

“We’ve spent our entire lives together, Li. It’s weird being away from him, I just feel all fucky.”

“Is that why you just get pissed every time? Even though you complain your arse off and just do it again the next day?” Liam hands him the mouthwash with a knowing eye roll. Louis pouts around his brush but doesn’t protest, it’s all true anyway.

Once he’s freshened up, Liam leads him out of the en suite and into the lavish room, with a killer view of the city and the biggest flatscreen of all time mounted on the wall.

“Would it be pathetic if I asked you to cuddle me?”

“As if I haven’t spent six years cuddling you out of a Harry funk anyway,” Liam mutters, then tugs him to the bed before Louis can be offended, “c’mon, then.”

Louis wraps around him and sighs, closing his eyes against the boy’s chest and letting himself be held. He thought maybe it would help, to be coddled by an alpha, seeing as if Harry were here this is exactly what they would be doing, probably.

Then again, maybe not..

Liam’s phone is dim but not dim enough, because when Louis opens his eyes he immediately has to blink against the brightness of the screen, some article opened up about Harry’s alleged new fling this week, the writer’s sources giving all the insider details on just how “cocky and good with his hands” Harry is.

“Fucking idiots.” Liam huffs quietly, closing the article, only that leads him back to the search, where plenty of other articles sit. Articles all painting a certain picture, like some sort of planted dating profile advertising the most alpha of all alphas.

Louis closes his eyes and turns back to Liam’s chest, and bites back the nausea as he attempts to fall asleep.

-

The pale yellow shag rug placed under the tea table is fraying a bit at the corner, and Louis is poking at it with his toe, trying to make it worse. He’s been doing that for a solid half hour when the front door finally opens.

He sits up, leaning against the back of the couch, head propped on his arms as he watches Harry shut the door behind himself and kick his shoes off, a large paper bag in his arms and a terribly ugly grey wool cap perched on his curls. Louis smiles, warmth already seeping into him just from being in the same room again.

Harry takes one step away from the door before he stops, nose twitching as he looks up, eyes sweeping the room then landing on him. His eyes widen comically, whole body freezing, so Louis takes the time to stand up from the couch and round it, approaching him. He’s too impatient to wait.

“You’re supposed to be in Mexico. With Danielle.” Harry says with an accusing frown.

“Nah.” Louis shrugs it off, and the moment Harry sets the bag down he launches himself at him. Harry takes it in stride as he always has, stumbling a bit and yet pulling him closer, nose immediately sinking into Louis’ neck for a deep inhale.

It’s not the most platonic of gestures, to have a whiff as an unmated alpha, and the way he nudges along his skin like he’s checking for marks is probably even less platonic, but it’s just the way they’ve always been.

Louis tangles his fingers in Harry’s curls and sniffs him right back, mouthwatering chai filling his senses, overwhelming Harry. More importantly, only Harry. He hasn’t been seeing anyone, not in the last week since Harry flew out to LA and Louis flew to Mexico. The articles were lies.

Louis knew, but it still eases the strange part of himself, his more omega side, that claws at his skin when he thinks of Harry being with someone. Smelling of someone.

Someone else.

“Missed you so much.” Harry mumbles into his skin, fists tight and wound up in his shirt.

“Only been a week.” Louis replies as if he wasn’t going off the rails just yesterday, tossing up alcohol and whining in Liam’s arms.

He didn’t need an alpha, as it turns out. He just needed Harry. What a shocker.

“You missed me.” Harry whispers, quiet and sure into his hair. Louis smiles, hides it in the alpha’s collarbone. The articles were right about the cocky part, though.

“I did.” Louis admits, giggling when Harry does. He isn’t sure what’s so funny, but they laugh anyway.

It’s never been hard to laugh with him.

Louis falls into it, and forgets all about stunts and pretty girls he’s never been interested in.

***

“They want me to talk to Caroline Flack.”

Louis looks up from his scone, lifting an eyebrow as he chews.

“Mm? Righ’ now?”

“Yeah,” Harry bounces on his toes and steps closer, brushing some crumbs from Louis’ chin with a nervous tint to his cheeks, “I think they want to like..make it seem like I’m flirting with her or something.”

“Isn’t she twice your age? Why do they keep trying to set you two up?”

“Dunno. Why do they keep trying to set you up with that uni student?” Harry replies, eyes shifty as he peeks over his shoulder, seemingly paranoid, as if Simon’s just going to come bursting through the door at any moment. Louis sets down his scone and pats the teenager’s chest.

“It’ll be alright, Haz, I’m sure this setting up stuff won’t last too long. Surely they’ll realise we aren’t interested. Unless..I mean, unless you are, or whatever—“

“I’m not,” Harry cuts in, eyes snapping back to his, fidgeting stopping at once, “I’m not interested in her at all.”

“Cool,” Louis nods, and pats him again, trying to hold back a stupidly pleased smile, “go on, then. Talk to her but make it obvious you aren’t interested.”

“Only if we go back home and watch sappy films after this is over.”

“Fine, but no sad ones.”

“Fine.” Harry sighs, teeth in his lip hardly holding back his wide smile as he squeezes Louis’ hip and backs away, fades into the throngs of people to find Caroline.

Louis turns back to his scone, and doesn’t worry about it too much. Celebrity life is weird.

-

Harry keeps glancing at him worriedly, but Louis keeps his focus on the interviewer, listening as she drones on about the apparent photos she saw of Harry kissing Caroline at the party last night.

The party he didn’t return home from until after Louis was asleep. The party he was meant to leave once he was done having whatever scripted talk with a pretty woman he was meant to have. The party that’s been plaguing Louis’ head ever since he woke up to articles outlining the Harry and Caroline relationship as if it’s not strange at all with their age differences.

As if nobody seems to notice just how fucked up it is.

The moment the interview is over, Louis is out of his seat and making his way back to the dressing room. He knows he’s being followed. Even if he couldn’t smell the alpha’s scent trailing him, the sad patter of his slumping steps would make it obvious.

He’s tugging off his braces when Harry steps up behind him, setting a hand on the small of his waist.

“Lou? Are you cross?”

“Why didn’t you come home last night?”

“I did, it was just really late—“

“Yeah, exactly. You had me wait up for nothing.” Louis turns to him with a displeased frown. He’s not even really mad about that part. They get held up all the time, plans ruined by meetings and shows and all sorts of things. But Louis isn’t exactly planning on admitting he’s jealous.

“I’m sorry,” Harry looks down between them, “I should’ve texted, I just- suppose I still wanted to see you even if it ended up being too late for a film.”

“It’s fine if you were held up, I just wish you’d tell me. I won’t um, judge you for liking Caroline, H. You can just tell me.”

Harry’s eyes lift back up immediately. He steps closer, shaking his head as he squeezes his waist.

“I’m not, I told you last night. I feel nothing for her, I promise.”

“That’s not what everyone else thinks.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks. There’s only one omega I wanted to be with last night.” Harry tilts down, nudges his nose against Louis’ temple. He’s gotten a bit taller in the last year, and it only seems to be getting worse. Louis pretends he hates it but he really doesn’t.

“I feel like your secret jealous lover.” Louis says, just to hear the boy laugh. Harry doesn’t disappoint, lips stretching against his cheek as he hugs his middle and tugs him closer.

“Now you know how I feel about the Eleanor thing.”

“Is that why you started the lovebite train?”

“You  started the lovebites!”

“Did not.” Louis claims, as he ducks his head and noses along Harry’s neck, finds a nice spot under his ear and latches on. Harry laughs airily, hands tightening on him, likely to leave bruises if he keeps doing that.

Louis stops his biting, laves his tongue over the sore slowly, eyes fluttering when Harry growls quietly against him.

“Lou..” He groans, hands wandering, and it’s then that Louis realises he’s gone a bit wet, his omega craving the touch and the reactions he’s getting.

“We have another interview in five.” Louis says, touches a little kiss to Harry’s scent gland as he pulls away. The boy doesn’t let him go far, caught up in each other’s arms. Harry’s eyes are dark and heavy with that thick untouched emotion that weighs between them and always has.

“Okay.” Harry murmurs, then tilts his head down, kisses him softly, closed-mouthed as their kisses always have been.

Louis pulls away, and daydreams of a real kiss as they walk stiffly to their next interview.

It’s another pretty girl talking about rumours of girlfriends and sex as if they aren’t a group of bloody teenagers, and this time Louis doesn’t bother to bite his tongue.

“I gave him it.” He says, just loud enough for the mic to catch. Harry meets his eyes, fingers touching the blooming lovebite on his neck, a sparkle in his eyes.

Louis looks back to the camera, ignores the heat rising up his neck and the satisfaction brewing in his gut.

***

Debussy twinkles softly from the handheld speaker sitting on the table next to him. Louis rocks back and forth slowly, hands on his belly and eyes closed.

Cloves tickle at his nose. He opens his eyes and smiles at Harry, who steps into the room and up to him. The alpha’s wearing a silky nightgown, a pale yellow that reaches his mid-thigh. There’s white ruffle socks on his feet, pretty and dainty at his ankles. He’s beautiful, hands behind his back and pink tinting his cheeks.

“You look like a dream, baby.”

“Thank you,” Harry murmurs politely, lip between his teeth as he fiddles with the hem of his dress, “are you coming to bed?”

He’s being quite suggestive, from the tone of his voice to the little swaying back and forth he’s doing. Louis pats his own belly and lifts a brow.

“You overestimate what I’m capable of with this belly, Haz.”

Harry shakes his head, stepping closer and lowering smoothly to his knees, leaning in and touching a kiss to his swollen belly.

“You’re carrying my pup. Reckon I can fuck you without any effort on your part.”

“Anyone ever tell you you have a service kink?” Louis asks, and yet he sets his hand in Harry’s, let’s himself be pulled up to his feet. He wobbles a bit, before following the alpha out of the nursery, across the hall into their own bedroom.

Their bed’s made up with crisp white sheets. Louis stops at the foot of the bed and looks at the wrinkle-free duvet, teeth sinking into his lip when Harry fits himself against his back, noses along his neck and pauses at the scar he left himself, wide and obvious on his mating spot. He kisses the mark open mouthed, then reaches around for Louis’ waistband.

He’s in maternity jeans, so it’s rather easy to fold the fabric down and take the jeans away, Harry’s capable fingers dragging his pants along the way. Louis flushes, knowing his pregnancy hasn’t allowed him as much..grooming as he usually keeps up.

Harry then lifts his shirt away, leaving him completely nude.

“So fit,” the boy mumbles just at his ear, one hand splayed over his belly, the other sliding between them to his arse, diving down his cleft and circling his rim with two fingers, “love you so much.”

“Love you too, H, though I’m not sure my feet can handle standing up through this.” Louis frowns, curling his toes into the carpet below them. He isn’t going hands and knees either, that’s for sure, and on his back just leaves all the weight on him.

“I know,” Harry murmurs, taking his fingers away and cupping both of his hips, “here, up onto your knees.”

Louis complies, kneeling up onto the foot of the bed. Harry keeps him just there at the edge, but before Louis can even begin to worry about balancing, the alpha fits himself right up against him, the silk of his nightgown soft against his back.

“Keep the dress on.” Louis sighs, relaxing back against Harry, knowing the boy will keep him upright. Harry’s fingers prod at his rim once more, slip inside as he chuckles in his ear.

“Who’s got a kink now?”

“You’ve got legs for days.” Louis excuses half heartedly, breath hitching when Harry curls his fingers just right.

Their position leaves him feeling all exposed, vulnerable and counting on nothing but Harry behind him to take care of him, and it’s doing probably more than it should to appease his omega. Or maybe it’s just the hormones. Whatever it is, Louis presses back against those long fingers and whines.

He doesn’t have to beg for long. Harry takes his fingers away and hikes up his dress, guiding the thick head of his cock between his arse cheeks, grazing along the slick dribbling out of him before he starts to press in, smooth and insistent.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes, reaching for Harry’s other hand on his belly, blunt nails biting into his wrist, “been too fuckin’ long.”

“Yeah,” Harry whispers, panting against the side of his head, “a week is a dreadfully long time, I know.”

“Don’t tease, baby. I need..” Louis trails off, moaning when Harry bottoms out, making his thighs quiver.

“You need?” Harry prompts, then pulls back a bit, settles into a shallow rhythm, making him bounce with every push.

“Need your knot.” Louis finishes his sentence, then sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Harry hums, holds him steady with both hands, then starts to fuck him in earnest. Louis moans, head tipping back against Harry’s shoulder, pleasure zipping through him like wildfire. He can’t reach around himself to touch his cock, but he probably won’t even need it if Harry keeps it up.

Of course he’ll keep it up, though.

“God, Lou, m’not gonna last long, you feel so fucking good.” Harry’s mouth latches onto his neck, marking him up messily as he fucks him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis shakes, body tensing up and mouth falling open as he comes, spilling onto the clean duvet and smearing on his lower belly, “my alpha, always gives me just what I need.”

“I’ll give you anything, anything- fuck.” Harry presses into him hard, locks Louis onto his knot as he comes. Louis shivers, turning his head towards the boy and nudging his cheek. The nightgown is damp with sweat between them, but still quite soft.

“I just want this,” Louis murmurs, chest heaving as he squeezes Harry’s wrist, hand still splayed over his protruding belly, “forever.”

Harry lifts his hand from his hip and cups his cheek, turns his own head to give him a kiss, the angle strange but not enough to ruin it. He’s smiling into it, and Louis can’t help but smile in return.

Harry offers anything he wants, but how could Louis ever need more than exactly this? They’re mated, publicly and everything, and in just a few months will be welcoming their first pup into their lives. There’s nothing more he needs than this.

They made it.

***

The confidence to be one’s true self takes a lifetime of growth.

There was a point in time, somewhere after the band ending, when Louis thought maybe he was losing Harry. Not in the sense that they were apart, because they weren’t. More in the sense that Harry was fading from himself, those messages and signs and words from suits would stain his head until he started to hesitate before reaching for that bottle of varnish.

Louis didn’t know how to bring it up, tried to show him just how perfect he is, that nothing anyone else says matters, but he knew deep down that sometimes those fucks with their hooks cast out catch them sometimes. Knows that he himself lost a part of him, left to be buried deep inside, a part that used to be loud, smiling, flamboyant.

They all lost parts of themselves, and still are, because the band ending didn’t end much of anything, actually. They’re still caught. Still strung up. Still being sucked dry.

Louis had been almost certain that Harry would lose that feminine side of himself, which is why the Vogue cover was such a surprise. To everyone, really, even Harry himself.

-

It’s a long ten minutes before Louis finally finds him, but he immediately relaxes once he sees that head of curls on the east balcony. If Harry truly didn’t want to be found, he’d be gone.

“Hey, baby.” Louis murmurs, stepping through the open sliding door and reaching down, combing the boy’s curls away from his face, meeting his red-rimmed eyes as they lift up to him. The boy’s holding his phone tightly in his hand, knuckles white and screen turned off.

“Have you been online?” Harry asks, voice carefully neutral.

“Not too much,” Louis says, then reaches down, gently pries the phone away, “and I think you already know if you should be or not.”

Harry doesn’t protest for the phone, just looks back out to the view, chest heaving just a little. He almost looks like he could have a panic attack if he stays in his head long enough. Louis stuffs the phone into his hoodie pocket and rounds the chair, settles down onto Harry’s lap, the alpha situating him to be comfortable even while lost in his head.

“Hey,” Louis murmurs, gets up in his face and brushes their noses together, “do you know how proud of you I am?”

“Proud that your alpha wore a dress on his Vogue cover?”

“Yes, actually. My alpha is brave, unapologetically himself, and I love him for exactly who he is. I don’t care what anyone else says, and neither should you.”

Harry sniffles and squeezes his thigh, chin wobbling a bit.

“I don’t know why I care so much- what people think of me. Like, why can’t I just not care?”

“Because, somewhere along the way you stopped making the choices that are best for you, and started to make them based on what you think is best for your family, the band..or me.”

“Louis..” Harry mumbles, wiping at his eye and shaking his head.

“No, listen, I don’t know if you’ve ever been told this but it’s okay to do things for just you, okay? You wore a dress on the cover, and it doesn’t matter if people say masculinity is failing or whatever the fuck they want to say. It doesn’t matter, because there’s some little alpha out there who gets told by his classmates that he’s too weak, and gets told by his dad that his mum’s makeup isn’t okay to get into, and gets told by his boss that he needs to change, that he can’t even wear pink. That boy saw your cover today and realised that he isn’t alone, that liking what everyone considers being ‘for girls’ is okay. That’s why this is important. That’s why you need to get out of your head and realise that this is good.”

“Fuck.” Harry whimpers, covering his eyes as he ducks his head, shoulders shaking as he cries. Louis pulls him to his own chest, pets the back of his hair and holds back his own tears.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have that reassurance when that boy was you. I’m so sorry, love.”

Harry chokes out a sob, holds him tighter as he lets it all out. He’s shaking his head like he wants to protest, because he did get reassurance by Louis, it’s true, but he never got it from another alpha, which is what he truly needed.

Louis holds him right back, tries to leak all of the love and pride onto his boy, and keeps him close as the night falls in a warm blanket around them.

***

Louis’ backyard is an array of toys and soft grass. The summer sun warms the ground around them, soaking into their skin and leaving them smiling.

Harry sits across from him, little lips blowing a raspberry as he plays with Lottie’s barbies, not seeming to have noticed that Louis isn’t playing anymore.

Louis’ found himself watching instead, watching the way Harry giggles and mumbles to himself as whatever imaginative daydream he’s having plays out in front of him. Harry’s the softest boy Louis’ ever met, which is strange, because he’s rather certain he was told that alpha’s aren’t meant to be the soft ones.

Louis may only be five, so he doesn’t know much about what him being an omega and Harry being an alpha means, but he doesn’t care too much anyway.

Harry’s soft, Harry’s pretty in the sunlight, and Louis likes him just like that. He’s going to protect this alpha, keep him just like this forever and ever, he decides.

“Boys! Time for tea!” Mum’s voice rings out of the back door. Harry’s eyes lift up, bright and green as he smiles. The boy stands up, wobbling on his little knees a bit, then looks down at Louis, waits with a hand outstretched.

Louis lifts up as well, folds their hands together with a smile. Despite his demanding hand, his natural tendency to make the first move, to take control of the dynamic, the little alpha waits, hand in Louis’ and eyes wide and trusting. He’s driven by instincts, as all of them are, and yet the alpha doesn’t tug the omega to the door. Harry waits, and that protectiveness wells up in Louis all over again.

Louis takes the first step, and Harry follows.

*