Work Text:
"Final call for Flight DL708 to Detroit. This is the final boarding call for Flight DL708 to Detroit."
Harry sprinted through the airport, his heart pounding as he neared his gate. Missing this flight would mean facing the wrath of his crying mother and his father’s stern lecture on responsibility, something he wasn’t about to let happen again. Traveling on Thanksgiving wasn’t ideal, but work had kept him busy, and he couldn’t book a flight until now.
Besides, the holiday itself didn’t mean much to him. He was going mostly because he missed his family, and this was one of the rare times he had a chance to see them. The food wasn’t half bad either though his mom usually dried out the turkey, and his niece and nephew inevitably devoured nearly all the mashed potatoes before he could get a decent helping.
And don’t even get him started on the never-ending apple pie versus pumpkin pie debate his dad and brothers managed to resurrect every single year.
Ignoring the growl of his stomach, while imagining all the food waiting for him when he landed, he pushed himself to run faster, cursing himself for not double-checking the alarm before bed. The edible he’d taken the night before had worked a little too well, knocking him out completely before he could make sure everything was in order.
He blamed the stressful workweek.
Fortunately, his body’s natural 6 a.m. wake-up call had spared him from total disaster, but of course, L.A. traffic was never on his side.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Harry panted as he reached the gate, his rushed words tumbling out. Judging by the gate agent’s raised eyebrow and judgemental glare, he looked as frazzled as he felt.
“Boarding pass?” the agent asked, clearly unimpressed.
Rude.
“Oh, right, one second!” Harry fumbled for his phone, digging through his wallet app. Nothing. He refreshed, then refreshed again. Still nothing.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath. “Uh, well... I swear it was here. I’ll just open the Delta app real quick-”
The gate agent sighed, glancing at the clock. “Sir, we need to close the gate.”
Harry barely heard them, too busy wrestling with the app, his fingers working as fast they could to find what he was looking for.
Finally, after a painfully long minute, his boarding pass appeared.
“See! Got it!” he exclaimed, thrusting his phone at the agent. They scanned it with a sigh, letting him pass.
Finally.
“Have a nice day!” he called as he wheeled his carry-on onto the jet bridge, catching only a muttered response behind him. He let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he finally stepped onto the plane, relief washing over him.
“Good morning, sir. Need any help finding your seat?” asked the flight attendant, Mandy, as he boarded.
He glanced at his phone, still open to his boarding pass. “If you don’t mind,” he replied, giving a small, grateful smile.
Mandy returned his smile warmly. “No problem at all. What’s your seat number?”
“Business class, seat E4,” he said, hoping he sounded more composed than he felt.
“Alright, follow me.” Mandy gestured, leading him down the aisle. He felt the weight of every stare from the seated passengers, clearly annoyed he’d delayed departure.
Which technically he didn’t but he didn’t want to tell them that.
They walked briskly until Mandy paused at the spacious, leather-bound seats marking business class. “Here we are, E4,” she said with a smile. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” he replied, appreciating her patience. He stowed his suitcase in the overhead compartment, placed his backpack on the seat beside him, and finally settled in, exhaling deeply. Four hours of relaxation stretched out ahead, exactly what he needed.
As the flight attendants began the emergency demonstration, Harry’s attention drifted, his gaze wandering around the cabin.
With it being Thanksgiving, he figured not many people would be traveling, most already with loved ones. But as he looked around the business class cabin, he couldn’t help but notice it was just him and one other passenger. The only other person sat a few seats away, engrossed in a book with headphones on, head slightly bowed. He didn’t want to disturb them, but he couldn’t resist stealing a glance and admiring their beauty.
From what he could make out of their profile, they were strikingly gorgeous.
Maybe they were a model?
If they weren’t they certainly should be.
They looked so cozy wrapped up in a matching pink hoodie and sweatpants, making the oversized outfit look effortlessly stylish. There was a relaxed charm about them, a gentle warmth that felt out of place in this stuffed plane.
Harry would love to feel like that but he was exhausted from running around making sure he had what he needed for the next week spent in his hometown.
The person must have sensed his gaze because, in the next moment, Harry found himself staring into the most captivating blue eyes he’d ever seen, wide and bright, framed by a perfectly adorable button nose.
Wow.
This was easily the most gorgeous guy Harry had ever had the pleasure of sharing a flight with. The beautiful stranger gave him a small, shy smile before quickly turning back to his book. Was that a blush on his cheeks? From his seat, Harry could just make out the soft pink tint coloring his face.
Harry cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair. Feeling a slight warmth on his own cheeks from getting caught staring. Though the pretty boy didn’t seem to mind.
Or maybe he was just nice.
He did seem incredibly nice.
And, well... impossibly beautiful.
As the flight attendant wrapped up the safety briefing and the captain’s voice crackled over the intercom, Harry smiled to himself knowing he caused that cute blush on that pretty face. He leaned back in his seat, put on his headphones, and let the gentle hum of his music lull him, somehow feeling that this flight would be the start of a story worth remembering.
🥧
An hour into the flight, Harry had spent most of it sneaking glances at the beautiful boy across the aisle, who seemed to be doing the same. Harry figured, with just the two of them in business class, why not introduce himself?
Plus, he genuinely wanted to get to know this gorgeous boy.
His friends and family had always urged him to be more confident when it came to putting himself out there.
Maybe this was his chance to finally take their advice.
He took off his headphones, checked that his hair was okay in his phone camera, unbuckled his seatbelt, and crossed the short distance to the other seat, taking a steadying breath before saying, “Hi,” with a slightly awkward wave.
The boy looked up, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Hi.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Harry said, chuckling nervously.
The boy’s laughter was soft and infectious. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”
Harry’s heart gave a little leap at the sound of his voice. Not only was he gorgeous, but he had the most captivating voice Harry had ever heard.
He’s screwed.
“So, it’s just us back here,” Harry said with a nervous smile. “Maybe we should throw our own little Thanksgiving party?”
The boy’s gaze shifted around the empty cabin, double-checking. “Guess you’re right. Think you scared everyone off with that mustache?” he teased, eyes twinkling.
Harry feigned offense, touching his mustache in mock protectiveness. “Don’t hate on the stache, it has feelings.”
The boy pouted playfully. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Mr. Stache. Please forgive me.”
Harry laughed, feeling his dimples pop out “It says it’ll forgive you if you agree to have a drink with me.”
He had no idea where all this confidence was coming from, but he silently thanked the turkey gods for sparing him from looking like an awkward fool in front of this adorable boy.
The boy giggled. “Well, I guess one drink won’t hurt.”
Even his giggle was impossibly cute.
Yeah, Harry was completely screwed.
Just then, Mandy, the flight attendant, appeared with a warm smile and asked, “Is there anything I can get for you two?”
“Champagne?” Harry suggested with a shy smile, looking at the boy.
The pretty boy’s face lit up as he nodded eagerly. “I’d love to!”
Mandy nodded with a warm smile. “I’ll be right back,” she said before turning and walking away.
The boy looked back at Harry, his eyes bright with amusement. “So… does Mr. Mustache have a name?”
“Harry,” he replied, chuckling.
The boy returned his smile. “Louis.”
Even his name sounded as pretty as he looked.
“It suits you,” Harry said with a warm smile before nodding toward the empty seat next to Louis.
“Mind if I join you?”
Louis nodded, and Harry settled in next to him, feeling more at ease.
"So, you're headed to Detroit too?" Harry questioned.
Louis raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “Considering this is a flight to Detroit… yes, yes I am.”
Harry let out an awkward laugh, feeling like he’d already blown it. “Alright, fair enough. Stupid question.”
Determined not to give up, he tried again. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s got you traveling on Thanksgiving?”
At that, Louis’ expression softened, his eyes dropping slightly. “Um… well,” he stammered, looking down, the light fading from his face fiddling with his sweater paws.
He instantly regretted his words, feeling like he'd made things worse by upsetting Louis.
Harry felt awful for upsetting Louis, so he gently placed a hand on his shoulder, offering a quiet, sincere reassurance. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry,” he said softly, hoping to give him the space he needed.
Louis let out a soft sigh, giving a small, grateful nod. “It’s not your fault, I promise,” he said quietly. “I just… wasn’t planning on spending Thanksgiving with my family this year. But something inside me told me I needed to. So, I booked a last-minute flight this morning, and… well, here I am.”
Before he could think of what to say, Mandy returned with two glasses of champagne. She set them down with a knowing smile. “Enjoy, you two,” she said, disappearing back down the aisle.
Harry lifted his glass. “To new friends, then?”
Louis’ smile returned as he lifted his glass to meet Harry’s. “To new beginnings.”
As they clinked glasses, the mood lightened, and Harry felt a warmth spreading through him, a quiet hope that this Thanksgiving might end up being more memorable than he’d ever expected.
🥧
"But with apple pie, you can serve it warm and with ice cream!" Louis argued, his eyes lighting up.
“Oh god, you sound exactly like my brother,” Harry groaned, rolling his eyes.
“You’re such a pie hater! What did pie ever do to you?” Louis shook his head in mock disappointment, taking a sip of his champagne.
“I just prefer my fruit as it is,” Harry said with a shrug. “No need to bake it into some overly sweet mess. Fruit should never be warm.”
Louis gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Overly sweet mess? You heathen. Pie is an art form, Harry. An art form!”
Harry chuckled at Louis' dramatic expression, his lips curling into a soft smile. He wasn’t sure how they’d ended up talking about apple pie, but here they were, laughing like they’d known each other for years. It felt effortless with Louis like he could cut through Harry’s usual awkwardness and make every conversation flow so naturally. Harry found himself wanting to do anything just to see that smile again. If he could, he’d buy Louis all the pies in the world just to keep it there.
Except, of course, for pumpkin pie. Apparently, the blue-eyed boy had very strong opinions about pumpkin being in everything and a deep-seated hatred for the fruit itself.
And this is how he learned that pumpkin was indeed a fruit and not a vegetable.
Harry could listen to Louis talk about pies all day. There was something so captivating about the way he spoke, his enthusiasm, his passion just about something simple as pie.
God, he was adorable.
No, scratch that, he was more than adorable. He was beautiful, absolutely stunning.
And Harry, being just a man, couldn’t stop his gaze from lingering a little too long, soaking in every detail of the boy sitting across from him. Those captivating blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled, the sharp curve of his cheekbones, and the way his soft, brown hair kept falling into his eyes, forcing him to brush it back with an absentminded charm that Harry found entirely too endearing.
And then there was his body. Don’t even get him started on that.
When Louis had gotten up to use the bathroom earlier, Harry’s eyes might have wandered south.
Just a quick glance.
Okay, maybe not that quick.
But he was just a man, okay?
His mind raced, teetering on the edge of thoughts he knew he shouldn’t entertain. A familiar heat stirred in his chest, creeping lower, and he shook his head slightly to push it away.
He didn’t even know if Louis was single. For all Harry knew, there could be someone waiting for him.
Harry took a steadying breath. He needed to get it together, fast.
But then, the idea of Louis with someone else didn’t sit right with him. It made him uncomfortable in a way he wasn’t expecting. He’d just met him, but there was just something about Louis, his warmth, his humor, his charm that made Harry feel protective.
“You seem really passionate about pie. Does your family secretly run a pie empire or something?” Harry teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
Louis’ smile faltered, his gaze dropping for a moment. “My sister loved pie,” he said softly. “Especially during Thanksgiving. It was her favorite thing to bake this time of year.”
Harry immediately regretted his joke, sensing the shift in Louis’ tone. “That sounds lovely,” he said gently, his teasing gone. “She must’ve been incredible at it.”
“She was,” Louis said softly, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Thanksgiving was her favorite holiday.” He paused, his voice growing quieter. “This is the first year without her.”
“Do you want to tell me about her?” Harry asked softly.
Louis wiped away a tear before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. “She was my best friend,” he began.
Harry, feeling the weight of the moment, carefully took Louis' hand in his. The simple gesture felt right, and Louis squeezed his hand in return.
“There’s four of us, two older brothers, then my sister, and then me,” Louis continued, his voice thick with emotion. “We were always close. Since we were kids, we just stuck together. People used to think we were twins because we looked so much alike. We’d beg our mom to dress us the same and buy us all the same things,” he smiled softly.
Harry gently rubbed his thumb along the back of Louis' hand, silently urging him to continue.
Louis took a steadying breath, then spoke again. “When she got sick and had to cut her hair short, she was actually excited because we had the same hairstyle for the first time. She was my rock, my biggest supporter. Every Thanksgiving, she’d blow up my phone to make sure I was actually coming home because she wanted me to try the new recipe she was making that year. I don’t have the best relationship with my parents, you know? She was the only reason I ever made the trip.”
Harry remained silent, allowing Louis to share his truth, feeling the depth of his words settle in the space between them. It was clear how much his sister had meant to him, and how her absence still left an unhealed ache. The pain in Louis’ eyes was raw, impossible to ignore.
“She sounds like an incredible person,” Harry said softly, his voice full of sincerity. He tightened his grip on Louis’ hand, offering a wordless comfort that he hoped to convey more than anything he could have said.
Louis tilted his head up, a small smile tugging at his lips. He let out a soft giggle. “She would’ve roasted you for that mustache, too.”
Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t act like you’re not secretly a fan of the stache.”
Louis shrugged and took another sip of his drink, but Harry caught the smile lingering at the edges of his lips, barely hidden behind the glass.
🥧
For the next two hours, Harry got to know Louis and vice versa.
Mandy had come back to check on them and give them some more champagne. She also let them know they had about an hour left before they were to land.
Louis shared that it was his sister who had encouraged him to leave Michigan at 19 to pursue his dream school. Though he’d spent the past seven years building a life in L.A. and had grown used to the warmth, he admitted he still missed the crisp, cool air of Michigan, especially during the fall time.
Harry couldn’t help but agree. There was something undeniably magical about fall in Michigan, the crisp air, the vibrant leaves, and the feeling that everything slowed down just a little to savor the season.
"I honestly love California now, but I do miss going to the cider mills and apple orchards this time of year," Louis admitted. "Those cinnamon sugar donuts and warm cider... they just hit differently here."
"Do you not visit one while you're here?" Harry asked, curious.
Louis shook his head with a soft sigh. "There never seems to be enough time. My family loves to dive straight into Christmas once it hits midnight."
"Maybe you should say screw them and go enjoy some apple picking and donuts on your own," Harry suggested with a grin.
"Eh, it's just not the same going alone," Louis shrugged. "It's better with someone else."
" I’d go with you, " Harry thought to himself, a smile tugging at his lips. He found himself imagining taking Louis on those apple orchard dates, picturing the way Louis would pout if he couldn’t reach an apple at the top of the tree, making Harry the one to climb up and get it for him. Or Louis would simply climb on his back to get it himself. And Harry would gladly let him.
"I’m sure you’ll find someone," Harry said softly, a reassuring smile on his face.
Louis gave a soft smile, looking up at Harry, "Maybe," he said, before seamlessly shifting the conversation to the other wonderful dishes that made Thanksgiving so special.
“Deviled eggs are absolutely vile,” Louis said, scrunching his nose in exaggerated disgust.
“You clearly haven’t tried my mom’s secret recipe,” Harry shot back with a grin. “They’ll change your life.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Louis said with a smirk. “But let’s be real, the star of the Thanksgiving table is, without a doubt, the mac and cheese. Nothing beats it.”
“Now that,” Harry said, pointing at him, “I can wholeheartedly agree with. I’m a sucker for some good cheese.”
“Wow, look at you finally agreeing with me,” Louis teased, a playful glint in his eyes. “Now, please don’t tell me you actually like green bean casserole, or I’ll beg Mandy to come here and change my seat.”
Harry rolled his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Dramatic. And for your information, no, I don’t. I don’t even like green beans, they're just…weird.”
Louis let out a giggle. “How can a vegetable be weird?”
“I don’t know, they just are,” Harry replied with a helpless shrug.
“Maybe you’re the weird one,” Louis teased, giving him a playful nudge.
“Just like the ‘stache, don’t pretend you hate it,” Harry teased, a smirk playing on his lips.
Louis raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “My lips are sealed,” he replied, miming the act of zipping them shut.
Harry chuckled, shaking his head, and took a slow sip of his champagne, which Mandy had so graciously refilled for them. His gaze, however, remained fixed on Louis, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.
The conversation effortlessly turned to their families. Harry recounted the story of how, one Thanksgiving, his brother got so mad about the Lions losing that he hurled a bowl of mashed potatoes at the TV.
The story earned Harry the sweetest laugh from Louis, a laugh so genuine, that it ended in an adorable little snort.
Louis excitedly recounted a story about one Thanksgiving when his sister accidentally started a fire after one of her infamous pies overflowed in the oven. He laughed as he described how a group of firemen had shown up to put it out, and how his sister ended up meeting her future husband that night and their magical romance.
Harry couldn’t help but get a little distracted by Louis’ lips, the way they moved as he spoke. All he could think about was kissing him, pulling him closer, letting his hands wander down to his-
“And what about you?” Louis asked suddenly, pulling Harry from his thoughts.
“What about me?” Harry replied, blinking back to reality.
“Any magical romance in your life?” Louis teased, his teeth gently tugging at his bottom lip.
“Nope,” Harry replied, popping the P with a playful grin. “Single as can be.”
Louis seemed to have hesitated for a moment, his confidence wavering as his eyes flickered down to Harry’s lips. Harry noticed the subtle shift and felt a spark of anticipation.
Was Louis asking for a kiss?
Was this really happening?
Harry took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment.
He can do this. He’s been wanting to do this for 3 hours now.
It was now or never.
Time to make a move.
Harry lifted his hands slowly to Louis’ cheeks, his touch gentle as he caressed the soft skin and leaned in, their faces now only inches apart.
“Is this okay?” Harry whispered, his voice low and careful.
Louis exhaled shakily, his eyes locked on Harry’s. “Yes.”
“Tell me if you want to stop at any time,” Harry murmured, his tone soft but firm.
Louis rolled his eyes with a teasing smile. “Kiss me, you idiot.”
Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He closed the remaining space between them, his lips brushing against Louis in a soft, gentle kiss. The world around them melted away, the steady hum of the plane fading into nothing as the kiss deepened, unhurried and sweet.
Louis’ lips were warm, impossibly soft, and carried the faint taste of champagne. Harry thought he could get drunk on this alone, the sensation more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.
But what started as gentle quickly turned into something deeper, something hungrier. The kiss grew heated, full of need, Louis pressing closer as if he couldn’t get enough, and Harry was desperate to feel more, to taste more.
He didn’t waste a moment, quickly shifting the armrest out of the way to close the distance between them. With nothing left to separate them, he effortlessly pulled Louis onto his lap, his strong hands settling on Louis’ hips. Tilting his head, Harry deepened the kiss, his lips moving with more urgency. His hands slid from Louis’ cheeks to the curve of his neck, then lower, brushing over his waist before gripping firmly, pulling Louis flush against him.
Louis let out a quiet, breathless moan that sent a shiver through Harry, his self-control slipping further with every sound. His hands were wandering now, fingers sliding up Harry’s chest, trailing heat wherever they touched, before tangling in his hair. He tugged gently, his touch deliberate but teasing, testing the waters.
Harry couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped him, the sound muffled against Louis’ lips as their kiss grew deeper, hotter.
“You’re dangerous,” Harry murmured against his mouth, his voice low and rough.
Louis pulled back just enough to smirk, his lips red and swollen. “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”
“I’m not,” Harry admitted, his hand trailing down to Louis’ ass, gripping it firmly. “But you’re making it very hard to behave.”
“Who said I want you to behave?” Louis whispered, his voice dripping with invitation as he leaned in to bite gently at Harry’s bottom lip.
Harry growled softly, his hand sliding under the hem of Louis’ hoodie, fingertips brushing against the bare skin of his waist. Louis shivered at the contact, his head tilting back slightly as Harry’s lips moved to his jaw, then his neck, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses.
The soft, needy sounds spilling from Louis’ lips were unraveling Harry, driving him to the edge of control. His grip on Louis’ ass tightened instinctively, pulling him impossibly closer as he guided Louis’ hips to grind down against him, creating a friction that made them both gasp.
“You’re going to kill me,” Harry muttered, his voice rough and gravelly, thick with desire. His hands slid beneath the waistband of Louis’ sweats, his fingertips brushing over something unexpected.
His breath hitched. Lace.
"Then die happy," Louis whispered breathlessly, grinding down harder on Harry’s jean-clad cock.
Oh, he definitely would.
Harry groaned, the sound deep and guttural. His lips found Louis again, hungrier, more eager. The kiss was messy, and desperate, teeth grazing and tongues tangling as their need for each other escalated.
Harry’s hands moved to grip Louis’ lace-clad ass firmly as he guided him into a rhythm, their movements syncing as the friction between them grew deliciously intense. Louis gasped, his nails digging into Harry’s shoulders, his breath coming in sharp, shallow pants.
“Harry,” Louis breathed, his voice barely above a whisper but heavy with want.
Harry pulled back just enough to meet Louis’ gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me to stop if you want me to.”
Louis shook his head, his fingers curling into Harry’s hair. “Don’t you dare.”
“Fuck, Louis,” Harry rasped against his lips. “You’re unbelievable.”
Louis smirked, rolling his hips deliberately, sending sparks shooting up Harry’s spine. “I could say the same about you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
Harry’s mouth trailed along Louis’ jaw, down to his neck, where he sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, leaving marks that would undoubtedly bloom into bruises. Louis moaned, the sound sharp and needy, and it went straight to Harry’s cock.
"You're not making this any easier," Harry growled, his hands kneading his ass. The warmth of his skin and the way he trembled under Harry’s touch was intoxicating.
"Then stop holding back," Louis challenged, his voice teasing but heavy with want.
Harry’s restraint snapped. He shifted, flipping Louis back into his seat and climbing over him, his body caging him in. Their lips crashed together again, the kiss hot and possessive, leaving them both gasping for air.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Harry muttered, his lips brushing against Louis’ as his hands explored every inch of him, his waist, his thighs, his ass, all of it. Louis writhed beneath him, his hands sliding under Harry’s shirt, nails scratching lightly against his abs.
“Harry…” Louis whimpered, grinding up against him, the friction almost too much and not enough all at once.
Harry’s hand slipped between them, cupping Louis through his sweatpants, and Louis let out a choked gasp, his hips bucking into Harry’s touch. “So needy for me,” Harry murmured, “look at your cock just begging to be touched,” his voice full of awe and heat.
"Wonder why," Louis quipped breathlessly, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark with lust.
Harry’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned down, his teeth grazing Louis’ earlobe. “You’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?”
Louis smirked, his breath hitching as Harry’s hand began to move. “And you love it.”
"Maybe I do," Harry admitted, his voice thick with want as his lips returned to Louis' neck, his hand pressing more firmly against Louis' aching hardness. “But you’re gonna have to be quiet, baby.”
Louis groaned, his hand flying up to bite down on his knuckle, his other hand fisting in Harry’s hair. “Then stop teasing,” he whispered, his voice shaking.
Harry grinned against Louis’ skin, his free hand sliding down to pull the waistband of his sweatpants lower. “Anything for you.”
He lowered his body, his lips trailing soft, lingering kisses across the boy's smooth, warm stomach. His fingers brushed over the belly ring he had just discovered, giving it a gentle tug. This boy truly was full of surprises. He kissed lower, moving down toward the pink lace of the panties, savoring the moment.
“You look so damn hot in these,” he murmured against the fabric, his lips trailing down slowly, deliberately avoiding Louis’ leaking cock.. He kissed lower, inching closer to his destination.
Without hesitation, he slid Louis' panties aside, and immediately his tongue explored the sensitive area, drawing a shaky gasp from Louis. The taste of him was intoxicating, and Harry groaned against his skin, the sound making Louis arch up in response, desperate for more.
Louis was a mess, his head tipped back, his hand gripping the edge of the seat, biting his lip in a desperate attempt to stay quiet as Harry worked him over.
Harry gave one last slow lick before pulling away, his voice low and hopeful. “Do you have stuff?”
Louis blinked, taking a moment to process the question before groaning softly. “I’m about to spend the holiday with family—of course, I didn’t bring anything. Don’t you ?”
Harry let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his curls. “No. Didn’t exactly plan for this to happen…”
Louis smirked faintly but quickly softened. “I’m clean if that helps,” he offered.
“I am too,” Harry replied, his tone earnest but tinged with hesitation. “But I don’t want to hurt you…”
“You’re sweet, you know that?” Louis smiled at the concern, his heart skipping a beat despite the situation.
Harry's lips curved into a shy smile at Louis' compliment, but the heat of the moment quickly brought him back to focus. An idea sparked in his mind, and he hesitated only briefly before speaking.
“Can I try something?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both confidence and caution.
Louis nodded, giving his consent without a second thought. Harry shifted back into action, hands steady but purposeful.
Harry unbuckled his belt, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. He tugged them down just enough, along with his boxers, to free his hard, leaking cock.
“Holy shit…” Louis breathed, his eyes widening as he stared, his cheeks flushing. His voice dropped, almost awestruck. “That’s…wow. You are big!”
Harry chuckled, a boost of confidence washed over him again as he took in Louis’ reaction. Sure, he’d always known he was well-endowed, but seeing the way Louis looked at him with wide eyes and a mix of awe and desire, made every past experience feel irrelevant.
“Turn around for me, baby,” Harry murmured, his voice low and dripping with authority.
Louis bit his lip, a shiver running through him at the command. Slowly, he shifted, positioning himself on his knees on the seat, hands gripping the armrest for support, his back arched just enough to present himself. Harry let out a quiet groan at the sight, utterly mesmerized.
He knew their time was running out before they landed, so he wasted no more of it. Spitting into his hand, he used it as a makeshift lube, slicking his cock with a few deliberate strokes. His other hand roamed up to Louis’ ass, squeezing firmly, unable to resist marveling at its perfection.
This ass might just be the best he’d ever seen.
Letting go of his cock, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of Louis’ panties and tugged them down just enough to expose those round, gorgeous cheeks. What he found made his breath hitch and his cock ache even harder if that was even possible.
There, on Louis’ left cheek, was a tattoo of pink glittered lips.
It was absolutely filthy, and yet somehow, it was the hottest thing Harry had ever seen.
“Come on, Harry,” Louis whined, wiggling his ass impatiently, his voice laced with need.
Harry made a mental note to admire that pink tattoo properly next time.
If there ever was a next time.
Pulling Louis’ cheeks apart, Harry revealed his glistening, slick hole, still wet from his earlier teasing. His cock twitched at the sight as he slid it between Louis’ soft cheeks, thrusting slowly to create delicious friction.
“Oh, fuck,” Louis moaned, his head falling back as pleasure washed over him.
“Gotta stay quiet, baby,” Harry murmured against Louis’ ear, his voice low and laced with desire. His grip on Louis’ hips tightened as his thrusts picked up pace, each movement drawing soft, muffled whimpers from Louis and sending electric shivers racing down his spine.
“We will be landing in Detroit in 20 minutes,” the pilot announced, the sudden interruption crackling through the speakers.
“You feel so good, baby,” Harry murmured, his grip tightening on Louis’ hips, the pressure sure to leave a mark as he continued to thrust between those irresistible cheeks.
Harry cursed under his breath, the urgency of time pushing him to speed things along. He reached a hand around, his hand wrapping around Louis’ cock, giving it a few deliberate, practiced strokes. Louis barely lasted a minute, spilling hot and messy over Harry’s hand, a breathless, “Fuck, Harry,” tumbling from his lips in a moan that sent Harry over the edge himself coming right there on Louis’ lower back.
That sound would be etched in his mind forever.
He cupped Louis’ face gently, guiding his gaze up towards him, his gaze lingering on the mess Louis had become. Unable to resist, he kissed him softly before bringing his cum covered hand to Louis' lips.
Louis didn’t need any instructions, he eagerly licked it all up, cleaning Harry’s hand and making sure nothing was left behind.
It was one of the hottest things Harry had ever witnessed. Anything with Louis was pure fire.
He couldn’t help himself again, crushing his lips against Louis’, his tongue plunging into his mouth, savoring the taste of Louis' sweet delicious cum.
"Was that alright?" he asked, his eyes locked with Louis'.
Louis rolled his eyes, a small grin playing at the corners of his swollen lips. “No, Harry, that wasn’t okay. And by the way, the cum that was on your hand? It was actually just slime.”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. This boy was truly something else. “You really do have a mouth on you.”
“And again, you love it,” Louis teased, before leaning in and kissing him softly, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
"I really do," Harry murmured, his voice low and filled with sincerity. He placed a gentle kiss on Louis’ lips, his touch lingering. "Let me clean you up."
He slowly withdrew from Louis, taking a moment to adjust, before zipping himself up and heading toward the bathroom.
A few minutes later, Harry returned with a dampened napkin. He carefully wiped Louis’ back, his movements tender as he removed every trace. Once he had finished, he helped Louis slip back into his clothes, making sure he was comfortable.
He may or may not have given Louis' ass a couple of playful squeezes before covering it back up with his clothes.
They both settled back into their seats, breathing deeply, the weight of the moment settling around them in silence.
Louis was the first to break the silence. “I’m just going to freshen up,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom.
Harry nodded quietly, his gaze lingering on Louis as he stood, grabbed a small bag from beneath the seat, and made his way toward the bathroom. When Louis returned, Harry noticed the subtle gloss on his lips, and for a moment, he couldn't help but imagine how they would feel against him again. He quickly pushed the thought aside.
A few minutes later, the pilot's voice came over the intercom, announcing that they had officially landed in Detroit.
As Harry sat there waiting for the go-ahead, his mind raced. What happens now?
He wanted to see Louis again. His chemistry with the blue-eyed boy was something he never experienced with anyone.
Did Louis feel the same?
He sure as hell hoped so, but he was scared to make the first move.
Was this just a Thanksgiving hookup?
Was that even a thing?
Both of them sat in silence for the first time since Harry walked over, neither knowing quite what to say as they patiently waited to disembark. The atmosphere between them was a mix of lingering tension and unspoken questions.
When they finally got the okay to leave, Harry returned to his seat to grab his carry-on and backpack. He glanced over at Louis and noticed the smaller boy struggling to pull his pink suitcase down from the overhead compartment.
“Here, let me,” Harry said, stepping over to help. He easily brought down Louis’ suitcase, which was covered in cute stickers, smiley faces, rainbows, butterflies, bows, and what appeared to be a little cartoon bunny that said “I’m just a girl.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile at the sight. This boy really was something else.
“Thank you, Harry,” Louis said softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
“It’s no problem,” Harry replied, flashing a reassuring smile before gesturing for Louis to go ahead.
As they made their way off the plane together, Harry couldn’t help but feel a growing nervousness. Sure, they’d shared a moment, an incredible one, at that, but what happened now?
They both lived in L.A., so long distance wasn’t an issue. That part was easy. But then it hit him.
Oh, shit.
Relationship.
The word echoed in his mind. Was he really thinking about a relationship with someone he’d just met four hours ago?
He glanced at Louis walking beside him, his pink suitcase trailing behind him, and the answer came quicker than he expected.
Yeah, he really could.
Once they reached the bustling airport terminal, Harry pulled out his phone and noticed a flurry of messages from his family. Quickly typing out a reply to let them know he’d landed and would be there soon, he then went to his Uber app and ordered himself a ride.
With everything sorted, he glanced over at Louis, who was busy scrolling through his own phone, an amused smile playing on his lips as he tapped away at his screen.
“Uh… need a ride?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual but hoping Louis might say yes.
Louis looked up, his blue eyes soft but apologetic. “No, it’s okay. My sister-in-law’s here already. She’s blowing up my phone, telling me to hurry because she’s starving.”
Harry chuckled at that. “Well, I won’t keep you, then.” He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say next. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Louis’ lips curved into a small smile, and his eyes softened even further. “Happy Thanksgiving, Harry. Don’t overstuff yourself,” he teased, his tone light but affectionate.
Harry returned the smile, lingering just a moment longer before turning toward the exit. As he walked to the spot where his Uber was waiting, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder one last time, catching a glimpse of Louis being greeted by a cheerful woman.
“Happy Thanksgiving” he muttered under his breath.
🥧
“You’re an idiot!”
Louis rolled his eyes, scrubbing at the plate in his hands. “I should’ve never told you.”
Sabrina, his sister-in-law, leaned casually against the counter, utterly unbothered. “I just can’t believe you let a hot man walk away after he had his tongue up your ass without getting his number!”
Louis flicked soapy water at her, narrowing his eyes. “Could you not announce it to the entire neighborhood?”
Sabrina held up her hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at her lips. “All I’m saying is… you should try to find the man. What if he’s the one?”
Louis shrugged, rinsing off the plate. “I don’t even know his last name. How exactly am I supposed to track him down?”
“I don’t know, hire a private investigator or something,” Sabrina suggested, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Louis shook his head, biting back a laugh. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think? Besides, if he wanted to, he could’ve asked for my number.”
“True,” Sabrina said with a shrug, a playful grin spreading across her face. “You do deserve to be treated like the princess you are.”
Louis flicked more water at her, but this time he was laughing. “You’re impossible.”
Before Sabrina could reply, Louis’ brother, Logan, walked into the kitchen, heading straight to his wife, Sabrina, and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“Are you two causing trouble again?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced between them.
“What possible trouble could we be in while washing dishes?” Sabrina quipped with a smirk.
“Mhm, sure,” Logan replied, unconvinced. “Anyway, can you two swing by Joy’s Bakery and pick up the pies? Mom’s been asking about them.”
Louis, eager for a moment to himself, saw an opening. “I can just go. It’s fine, really.”
“Nonsense,” Sabrina said, waving him off. “You’re probably still too tired to drive. We’ll go together.”
Louis sighed, too drained to argue, and nodded in agreement. Once the dishes were done and they grabbed their jackets, the two headed out.
The drive to the bakery was quick, only about fifteen minutes, and the streets weren’t too busy. When they arrived, the bakery looked cozy and inviting, with only a handful of customers inside.
“I’m going to head to the bathroom. Been holding it in for a while,” Sabrina announced, already moving toward the restroom sign.
Louis stayed behind, standing in line for the bakery counter. He was only the third person in line, so it shouldn’t take too long.
As he waited, his thoughts wandered to Harry, the man he’d met on the plane. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as memories of the encounter flooded his mind.
He hadn’t expected things to escalate the way they did, but there was something about Harry that drew him in. He was awkward, sure, but also funny, sweet, charming, and, God, sexy as hell.
Harry was tall, with gorgeous forest green eyes that seemed to see straight through him, and the softest, short wavy hair Louis had ever run his fingers through. And that mustache. Louis never thought he’d find something like that attractive, but on Harry, it worked.
Everything about him worked.
Louis couldn't help but find it endearing how shy Harry had been when he first came over to talk to him. He had caught Harry glancing his way a few times, clearly trying to be subtle about it, but Louis noticed. It was surprising, really, this tall, muscular guy, so seemingly confident in every other way, but still carrying that awkward, sweet shyness.
It made Louis smile to himself, realizing that beneath all that strength was a kind and gentle soul that he would love to get to know better.
What stood out most, though, was how Harry listened. Really listened. He’d hung on to every word Louis said about his sister, as though he genuinely cared about someone he’d never met.
Louis sighed softly, shaking his head as if to snap himself out of it. He wasn’t used to feeling this way about someone he’d known for such a short time. But with Harry… it felt different.
Special.
Louis’ thoughts were interrupted by the soft ding of the bakery door opening. It wasn’t the sound itself that caught his attention, though, it was the deep, smooth voice that he knew all too well that followed.
He froze for a moment, his heart suddenly racing. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the voice, and when his eyes landed on the man standing by the entrance, he blinked a few times to make sure he was actually seeing the man before him.
“Harry?” he blurted out, his voice tinged with disbelief.
The tall, green-eyed man turned toward him, his expression shifting from surprise to something resembling shock. For a moment, he just stared, like a deer caught in headlights.
“Louis?” Harry finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh my god! This is Louis?”
Louis’ attention shifted to the other tall man standing next to Harry, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
The stranger’s exclamation snapped Louis out of his daze, and he quickly looked between the two of them.
“Uh… hi?” he offered awkwardly, his cheeks flushing under the stranger’s scrutiny.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “Louis, this is my brother, Jacob,” he said quickly, shooting his brother a sharp look. “Jacob, this is—”
“ The Louis,” Jacob interrupted, a smirk spreading across his face as he crossed his arms. “You sure are right. He is really cute.”
“Jacob” Harry groaned, his face reddening as he glared at him.
So, Harry had talked about him.
Louis tilted his head, his lips quirking into a smile as he folded his arms. “Cute, huh?”
Harry groaned again, his face now practically crimson. “Don’t listen to him.”
“So, I’m not cute?” Louis teased, with an amused smirk.
Harry’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed as he fumbled for words. “No, I mean, yes, yes, you are, but, um-” he stammered, his cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink.
Louis truly adores this man’s awkwardness.
Before Harry could dig himself into a deeper hole, Jacob jumped in, grinning like he was thoroughly enjoying the show. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you since he walked through the door. Did you bewitch him or something?”
Louis giggled, and Harry’s face somehow turned an even deeper shade of red.
That’s when Sabrina reappeared. She stopped in her tracks, looking between the group. “Oh, hello, Louis. Who are these fine gentlemen?” she asked, her tone slightly playful but mostly curious.
“I’m Jacob,” he said with an easy smile, offering a handshake. “And this here is Harry.”
At the mention of Harry’s name, Sabrina’s eyes lit up, her expression shifting into something knowing.
Louis’ stomach dropped. Oh no.
Sabrina’s smile turned sly as she glanced at Louis, clearly connecting the dots. Harry’s blush deepened, and Louis resisted the urge to groan.
“Well,” Sabrina said, her voice practically dripping with amusement, “Harry it is so nice to meet you. This one here has been gushing about you.”
“Brina…” Louis whined, feeling his face warm up.
“How about we let these two catch up?” Jacob suggested with a mischievous smirk.
Sabrina matched his energy, grinning as she added, “Just remember, you two, we’re in public.”
At this point, both Harry and Louis felt like their faces might actually catch fire. Without another word, Sabrina and Jacob strolled to the counter, leaving the pair behind.
“Um… want to step outside?” Louis suggested, breaking the tension.
Harry nodded immediately, holding the door open for Louis like the gentleman he was. Louis couldn’t help but smile at the small gesture.
Spotting a bench just outside, Louis walked over, Harry trailing close behind. They sat down, the cool autumn air nipping at their cheeks.
“So… um… hi,” Louis started, his voice light but tinged with nervousness.
“Hi,” Harry replied, his lips curving into a shy smile.
Louis giggled softly, trying to dispel the awkwardness hanging between them. “This is a bit weird, isn’t it?”
Harry chuckled, running a hand through his curls, a habit Louis found far too hot. He blushed at the memory of his own fingers tangled in that same hair not long ago.
“Maybe,” Harry said, his green eyes sparkling with humor. “But, you know, I think the turkey gods really wanted us to meet again.”
Louis let out a laugh, shaking his head. “The turkey gods, huh? Well, I guess I owe them a thank-you gift.”
Harry laughed along, the sound warm and soothing, and Louis felt the nerves that had been building in his chest slowly melt away. He was thankful, thankful for whatever turkey god or whatever god or pure dumb luck that had brought Harry back into his life.
But then Harry’s expression shifted, his smile fading slightly as he turned to face Louis more fully. “Look, Louis…” he began, his tone serious.
Louis’ stomach tightened. Oh God, is he about to let me down?
Was the shy, awkward persona just a facade to get what he wanted?
Biting his bottom lip, Louis dropped his gaze to the ground, focusing on a lone leaf that was blowing across the pavement.
“I don’t know about you,” Harry continued, his words a little rushed, “but I felt something, like a connection, when we met. I like you, Louis. I know we just met, and you can tell me to fuck off if this is too much, but I’d love to take you out. Dinner, maybe, whether it’s here or back in L.A.”
Harry paused, ruffling his hair nervously. “But if you don’t feel the same, and this was just a one-time thing for you, that’s okay too. Well, maybe not okay, because my heart would need some time to recover, but I-”
Louis couldn’t take it anymore. Without a second thought, he leaned forward and silenced Harry’s rambling with a kiss, firm, confident, and full of the answer Harry had been waiting for.
When they finally pulled back, both were smiling, their noses brushing as they lingered close.
“I like you as well,” Louis said softly, his blue eyes locking onto Harry’s.
Harry’s face broke into a grin so wide it made Louis’ heart skip.
“Good,” Harry murmured, his voice warm and full of relief.
Louis giggled, resting his forehead against Harry’s. “And for the record, I think dinner sounds perfect.”
“How about tomorrow?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with a hint of anticipation.
“That eager, huh?” Louis raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.
“I don’t want to lose you again,” Harry shrugged, his expression softening.
Louis’heart fluttered at his words. He reached up, gently cupping Harry’s cheek, his thumb brushing against his skin. “Dinner tomorrow sounds perfect,” he whispered, his voice warm and sincere.
“Maybe we could stop by the apple orchard in Armada if you’d like?” Harry asked shyly.
Holy shit.
Oh my god.
This man couldn’t be real. When Harry had mentioned that Louis would find someone to go with, he had secretly hoped it would be him. He couldn’t help but picture how the day would go, imagining the two of them at the orchard, laughing together, sharing a warm cider, and picking apples.
He really needs to thank the turkey gods.
“I’d love to,” Louis replied, his smile wide and genuine.
“Have you two exchanged numbers already?” Sabrina’s voice broke through the moment, and both Louis and Harry turned to find her and Jacob standing just outside the door, grinning with those unmistakable smirks plastered on their faces.
Louis couldn’t help but giggle, his eyes meeting Harry’s with a playful sparkle. “Guess that would’ve been helpful,” he teased.
Harry chuckled, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket. He unlocked it and handed it to Louis with a sheepish grin. “Should’ve done this hours ago,” he admitted his tone a mix of regret and amusement.
Louis double-checked his number on Harry's phone before handing it back, a satisfied smile on his face. “All set.”
“We should probably get back to our families,” Louis suggested, his tone light but reluctant.
If it were up to him, Louis would gladly ditch his family and spend the rest of the night with Harry.
Harry sighed dramatically. “If we must,” he replied, his voice tinged with humor.
Louis giggled as he stood, brushing a few leaves off his skirt. Harry followed suit, his movements mirroring Louis’, and together they made their way back to Sabrina and Jacob.
“All good?” Sabrina asked, raising an eyebrow as they approached.
Louis and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both of them smiling in that way that only confirmed everything was, indeed, just fine.
“All good,” Louis replied with a grin, his eyes still locked on Harry’s.
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you, Louis,” Jacob said with a smile, his eyes twinkling.
“Mm, I guess we’ll see,” Louis teased, his voice playful.
Sabrina cleared her throat. “I’ll be in the car,” she said, tossing a wink at them.
“Same here,” Jacob added, nodding toward the parking lot.
With that, they walked off, leaving Louis and Harry standing together.
Louis smiled, his expression softening. “I’m really happy I ran into you again.”
“Me too,” Harry replied, his voice warm. He hesitated for a moment before asking, “Can I… umm, can I kiss you?”
Louis giggled the sound light and teasing. Without a word, he leaned up, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. In one swift motion, their lips met, soft and gentle, Harry instinctively pulled him closer, his hands finding their place around Louis’ waist. The kiss deepened, slow and full of promises.
As they pulled apart, Louis couldn’t contain the smile that stretched across his face. His eyes sparkled, and he let out a soft laugh.
"Best Thanksgiving ever."
"Better than apple pie?" Harry teased, his smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Much better," Louis grinned, leaning up to place a soft kiss on Harry's lips.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Louis."
"Happy Thanksgiving, Harry," Louis smiled, a warmth settling in his chest as he realized how thankful he was to have boarded that plane today.
It truly would be a Thanksgiving he'd never forget.