haven ☞ l.s

0.3

Harry laughs incredulously, trying to imagine how that stunt would've ever worked. " A plus for effort?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "He's lucky I didn't turn him into the school board. Could've gotten him suspended."

Students start filling in after that, forcing them to cut their conversation short. Harry sets down all his stuff, reading over the lesson plans for the day. All they're doing is watching one version of The Taming of the Shrew on DVD, so he may not need the candy at all. As soon as all the teens are accounted for, Louis says goodbye and heads off to his meeting.

"Call me tonight, yeah?" Louis asks quietly, just for Harry.

Harry smiles and nods as he shuts the door behind him. When he turns around, the entire class is silent, some even sitting with their hands folded on top of the desk. Suspicious, Harry asks, "What's just happened?"

One fake flower crown-wearing girl in the front row cries, "Mr. Tomlinson likes Mr. Styles!"

The room erupts into chaos as everyone starts laughing and screaming, singing childish "sittin' in a tree" songs and relentlessly teasing Harry about it. He doesn't have the heart to tell them to stop, or else they'll think of him as a stuck-up, no-fun substitute teacher. Instead, he simply rolls his eyes and waits for them to quiet down.

They do, eventually . When the room is quiet once more, Harry says, "Take that up with Lo—Mr. Tomlinson, not me."

He has a feeling he's just gone and made it worse. He can only pray that he won't get thrown out for being unprofessional. Louis doesn't seem like the type to do that, but what if a student reports him?

He scans the faces in the crowd, looking for anyone who might seem uncomfortable, and finds none. That's a good sign, at least. He relaxes and allows himself to laugh a little, finally reining in the class while he gets the DVD set up.

The day goes by quicker than yesterday, that's certain, but Harry still hasn't been sold on the benefits of teaching high school.

That evening, he does what Louis told him to, and calls him. It rings only once before Louis answers with a chirpy, "Hello!"

"Hey," Harry bites his lip against a smile. "Um, fair warning, your students think we're dating."

There's a tiny giggle on the other line as Louis says, "They think I'm dating everyone. Once, when I first started teaching, my stepdad came into help me get situated and all the kids started singing Mr. Tomlinson and Mark sitting in a tree . They sang that today, right?"

"Yeah," Harry laughs. "A classic, that one."

"Indeed," Louis shuffles something around, and Harry can hear his feet pit-pattering on the floor. What sounds like a fridge opens, and then, "So, um, I've got a ton of this really expensive coffee that my friend brought back from his vacation, but I'm not a coffee drinker. And you seem like you'd appreciate that kind of pretentious thing. Uh. So, do you want to come over, maybe?"

Harry stops breathing for a moment, his heart rabbiting on while his lungs deflate. "Oh," he says, a smile spreading across his face before he can stop it. Not that anyone is watching, of course, but for posterity's sake. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He's not the coffee connoisseur Louis thinks he is, but he's always up for a cup.

"Great," Louis says. He's got the kind of voice that always gives away whether he's smiling or not, and Harry is happy to hear that he is. "I'll text you my address. Just show up whenever, I'll be here."

He has full intentions of waiting a bit, lest he look desperate, but as soon as the phone has been hung up, Harry is throwing on a clean t-shirt and something a bit sexier than work khakis, and heading out the door. He punches the address into his GPS with a wild sense of desperation—he hasn't had a crush this strong since grade school. And if he's reading the signals right, then Louis likes him back. Of course, there's the whole Louis is a dom who makes people cry and Harry is a (maybe?) sub who is inexperienced and a little bit scared thing, but they'll iron that out later. For now, coffee. Harry can do coffee.