Tattoos, dimples and the stormy White House

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Hey guys.

Well, this is obviously a smutty one shot and I had incredibly great time writing it.

The only thing I want to say that it's meant to be silly, cheesy and rather unrealistic. It's just for fun, okay? Nothing serious. Just enjoy fetus Harry and punk Louis making love in the staff room in White House.

All the love, T. xx

______

It was a nice, warm Friday morning. Louis was leaning loosely at the wall next to the school entrace and vaguely dragged a puff out of his lit cigarette. He was the typically typical bad boy of the school. And he even more typically didn't give a shit about labels. And the most typical thing about Louis at all was his cute, little, nerdy boyfriend.

Louis Tomlinson, ink covering, punk clothing, skateboarding. He was everything all the girls asked for. Oceanic eyes, body of a god, sassy attitude. He was a sweetheart, he could be a jerk. But what he really was, was uncotrollably and undeniably in love.

Harold Styles, glasses wearing, dimples showing, book drowning. He was the one all the jocks would pick on, because of his intelligence and adorable feminine look. Oversized sweaters, brown curls, sparkling eyes. He'd be an outcast. If he wasn't completely, utterly and romantically in love.

Harry stepped out of his dad's car, white converse tapping the asfalt and walked excitedly, almost too excitedly, over to his boyfriend. There was a huge, solar smile plastered on his lips and when he crashed them on Louis', he was suddenly taken aback with the happy force.

"Wow, love, what made you so hyper?" Louis chuckled and finished his cigarette with the last gust of smoke leaving his lungs.

"At first, this is gross," Harry pointed at the cigarette leftover, "and second, can't I just be happy to see you, Boo?" he tickled Louis' sides and made him groan in displeasure.

"Harold, how many times have I told you not to call me that in public? It's embarrassing," the blue eyed boy ran a hand across his face in pure frustration, but smiled anyway.

"I just love you... and I forgot the third," Louis was sure Harry hasn't forgotten. Because Harry never forgets.
"Oh, yeah, I remembered! We're going to The White House today, Lou. Are you ready? I'm so excited, you can't even imagine," Harry cooed at the thought and beamed like a child on a Christmas Day.

"Well, I just see your face, Harold. I totally can imagine how overexcited you are. I've loved you for some time, you know?" Louis chuckled again and pressed a firm kiss onto Harry's parted lips.

"I know, I just like to tell you."

***

"Okay, class. We're going to have a tour around the White House with a professional guide. Stay together as a group and don't do anything to cross the rules, understood, Tomlinson?" the teacher said, not even a hint of joke in her voice. Louis just cockily rolled his eyes. How typical.

"Yes, ma'am. It's always been me doing the bad stuff, right," he snickered and pulled Harry by his waist even closer to his side.

And when the green met the blue, sparks flew instantly and icebergs melted with all the warmness of their ethearnal love.

"Don't push it, Louis. She's overreacting," Harry soothingly rubbed Louis' back in a subconscious comforting manner he came to terms with when his boyfriend needed a caring hand.

"I know, Hazz. I know..." it's not that Louis has always been a saint one. He's done some mistakes, he's aware, but what bothered him the most that the teachers automatically assumed he'd be the most problematic one.

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