More Than You Know [l.s.] ✓

Chapter 19

The noodles are finished cooking, at least Louis thinks they are. He has just turned the sauce down to simmer. He's still only half dressed and the stove beeps, letting him know his garlic bread is done. Hoping the heat doesn't frizz the front of his fringe, he grabs an oven mitt and pulls the bread from the oven.

Louis is nervous. He feels more nervous than he did the first time he went on a date with a man ever. He wants everything to be perfect. But he's Louis so perfect is almost guaranteed to be unattainable.

It's almost seven, meaning Harry will be here any minute. With the food finished, Louis heads to his room to finish getting ready. He has on a pair of dark wash skinny jeans he forgot he owned, but he's hung up on what shirt he should wear. Since they're just going to be staying in, he feels he'd look silly getting too dressed up, but he doesn't want to look like he doesn't give a shit either because tonight is so important to him.

He grabs a long sleeved gray t-shirt which he thinks is playing it safe. Not too dressed up and not too dressed down. As he's fiddling with his hair in the mirror one last time, he hears his phone chime with a text message. He heads back to his bedroom where he left it and tosses himself onto his bed on his stomach then grabs his phone.

H: I'm here! Where to now?

Louis replies to Harry, telling him to head to apartment eight.

Now the nerves are really kicking in. This was a stupid idea. Bringing Harry here of all places. He gets up from the bed, making his way to his bedroom door, but he stops to do a final once-over in the full length mirror on his door.

Fuck it all, he doesn't even look like himself. With his socked feet and sweater paws, he looks dainty and small, and he doesn't mean to sound stereotypical, but his outfit sort of screams soft bottom. If Harry wasn't already here, he'd strip and start over but he's stuck in this now.

The knock on his front door has him rushing to the living room, steadily giving himself a mental pep talk the whole way there. Harry's here. For now.

When he opens the door, he's nearly knocked over for the hundredth time by how gorgeous Harry is. His man is standing there, curls spiraling down and framing his face almost magically. He's got on a white shirt, but it's dotted with so many.. are those hearts? They kind of look like hearts. There's so many hearts, the shirt looks mostly black. Harry's got the sleeves folded halfway up his impressive biceps. Louis doesn't stop there, letting his eyes move down Harry's torso where the shirt is tucked into black skinnies that are tight enough that they don't need the belt Harry has on.

The outfit someone makes Harry look more masculine and buff than usual. Only Harry could wear a shirt with hearts and it make him look more rough around the edges.

"Fuck," is the first thing Louis says. A blush coats his cheeks once he realizes he spoke that out loud. "I mean come in! You look incredible. I mean, you always do, but I really like this shirt."

"You do?" Harry's whole face smiles along with his mouth as he steps through the door Louis is holding open for him. He slips his black Chelsea boots off, sitting them out of the way.

Harry turns as Louis closes the door, giving Louis a onceover himself before crowding his space by the door, grabbing his face and kissing him. He pulls back, his thumbs brushing Louis' cheekbones. "You look absolutely lovely."

Damn it, is Louis ever going to stop blushing? Has the outfit somehow caused him to lose his edge and become soft? It would make sense since apparently the bottom outfit is making him want to bend his ass over and beg Harry to take him.

Or maybe just Harry alone is to blame for that one.

"Thank you. I cooked dinner," Louis tells him as he grabs Harry's hand, leading him to the kitchen.