So... this is a little thing I am gonna work on. I have for some time wanted to write a fic that's just a comforting read. No drama. Just two boys falling in love. It's gonna be kinda slow-burn. Full of awkward as well as sweet moments. I hope you'll enjoy.
- - -
"Niall, what order do you want?" Harry impatiently asked into the phone where he squeezed it between his shoulder and ear. His fingers were fumbling through his wallet for cash he could give the barista once it was his turn to order. Which was only two people away. The line moved forward. Only one now.
"Eh, I'm not sure," Niall groaned down the line. "Anything that helps with a hungover."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You always complain when I choose something for you, Nigel."
"I won't this time."
"That's what you said all the other times," Harry said, "and here we are."
The person in front of him moved out of line, and Harry inwardly cursed. "Bye, Horan, I want no complaints." He quickly removed his phone and hung up. The barista was looking expectantly at him. "Um, I would like a coffee, just black, please. And..." He sighed. "Do you happen to have any drinks that help hangovers?"
"Don't drink, mate," the man said. "I know nothing of that, sorry."
Harry sighed. Great. "Then just two black coffees, thank you."
Two prods on his shoulder startled him and made him turn around. His eyes landed on the man who had prodded his shoulder, and his jaw almost hit the floor.
The man was shorter than him, curvy. His hair fell in a fringe over his forehead, and he had dazzling blue eyes. He was wearing a soft-looking blue sweater and jeans that hugged his legs tightly.
He was possibly the most gorgeous man Harry had ever laid eyes on.
"Sorry," the man said. His voice was raspy. "But I couldn't help but overhear. I find it that Iced Golden Ginger Drink often helps with hangovers."
"Oh." Harry couldn't find any other words. Finally, after a few awkward seconds, he cleared his throat. "I—Thank you." He turned to the barista. "That and one coffee, then, please."
The barista looked slightly annoyed but nodded nonetheless. "Under what name?"
"Harry Styles," Harry said.
"Right. Coming up."
Harry turned back to the man behind him. "Again, thank you."
The man shrugged. "No problem, mate." His eyes fell to Harry's chest where the University's badge was fastened on his front chest pocket. A smile formed on his lips. "Do you also attend the University of Arts?"
"Oh, yeah," Harry said, smiling slightly. "Started last month."
"That's nice, can't believe I haven't seen you around," the man said. He was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's not that big after all."
It was true. The University had been founded four years prior, having focus on artistic degrees. It offered plenty of opportunities for people who wanted to be actors, painters, and much more. In Harry's case, it offered him the opportunity to pursue his dream of writing. He was getting an English degree, and in addition to that, he had an 'Author Class' that later on could benefit him with publishers.
Harry shook his head, wetting his lips. He didn't seem able to draw his gaze away from the man before him. "No, it's not."
"What's your degree?" the man asked.
"English, and I'm taking the Author Class as well."
"Ah, so a writer," the man said.
"Yes—"
"Harry Styles!"
Harry looked back to see that his beverages had been put forward on the disk. "Thanks," he said, putting the money on the disk. He grabbed the two drinks, turning his attention back to the man. "Aren't you supposed to order?" It came out sounding more rude than Harry had intended. "Sorry, that was rude."
"I think the line began ignoring me the minute I began talking to you," the man chuckled, gesturing to the line. Harry hadn't even noticed how it had just moved around the two of them.
Harry scrunched his nose. "I'm sorry."
The man shrugged easily. "It's okay. I'm in no hurry."
Harry couldn't help but smile sheepishly. "So... what about you, then?"
"What about me?" the man asked, confused.
"What degree," Harry clarified.
"Oh, Fine Arts, with focus on photography. I'm in my third year."
"That sounds—" His words were cut off by the sound of his ringing phone. "Shit, sorry." He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. It was Niall. He swiped to the right and held the phone to his ear. "Yes, Niall, I am on my way." He said the words before Niall even got a chance to say anything.
"Did you get something good?" Niall asked groggily.
Harry flashed a small smile in the man's direction. "I don't know, but I've been told it should be a good cure for hangovers."
The man bit slightly down on his bottom lip, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Are you on your way, then?"
"Yes, you ungrateful little shit," chuckled Harry. "I'm on my way." He hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "Sorry, I really should get going." His heart sank slightly in his chest over the fact he would no longer be able to talk to the stranger.
"It's alright," the man said. "I guess I will see you around the school, then?"
"I guess so... Wait, what's your name?" Harry inquired to know.
"I'm Louis," he said. "And I figured your name is Harry, right?"
Harry nodded, smiling softly. "That's my name."
"Guess I will see you around, then, Harry," Louis said. "You should probably bring that to your friend." He gestured to the Ginger drink.
Harry grinned, butterflies basking in his stomach. "Yeah, I, um, I probably should. I'll see you, Louis."
He left the Starbucks, feeling light on his feet.
Autumn was in the air, leaves had fallen down. They crunched beneath Harry's feet as he walked. The wind whisked at his cheeks, making them rosy. A smile was blossoming on his face, butterflies basking wildly in his stomach.
His and Niall's apartment wasn't far away from the Starbucks. It was on the outskirts of Manchester, fifteen minutes away from the school by bike.
Harry and Niall had moved in just before school started. Niall had gotten a job at a pizzeria where he worked four days a week. Harry was still searching for a job, but it wasn't that needed yet, so he wasn't stressing. Too much.
He opened the door to their apartment building and stepped inside. He went up the two flights of stairs, and finally, stepped into his and Niall's home.
Their beds weren't due to arrive for another two weeks, so Niall was lying on an air mattress in his room, looking utterly miserable.
"I got a drink for you, Nigel," Harry said, placing it down beside his mattress. "Are you hanging in there, buddy?"
"No," Niall dramatically said. He draped an arm over his head, sighing. "I'm dying. It's my last day on Earth."
"Sure," Harry chuckled. He left Niall's room, walking into the kitchen. He propped himself up on the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. His mind wandered to Louis.
Just the thought of him brought butterflies to Harry's stomach. There had just been something about him.
Suddenly, Niall showed up at the door to his room, the drink in his hand. "Whatever this is, it is absolutely amazing."
Harry grinned. "Someone at the shop recommended it to me."
Niall quirked an eyebrow. "Is my Harold blushing?"
"What? No!" Harry said, looking down at the floor.
"Who was this person?" Niall asked, sitting up on the counter next to Harry. He winced slightly at the quick motion. "God, I'm never drinking again."
Harry huffed, "Sure."
Niall bumped his shoulder against him. "No need to be sarcastic. Now, tell me."
"It was just someone from the school," Harry shrugged. "Never seen him before."
"Hmm, and was he cute?" asked Niall, wiggling his eyebrows.
Harry groaned, resting his head against the wall behind him. "Yeah. He was... like, really fucking pretty. And so kind."
Niall grinned, prodding Harry's ribs. "That's great, Haz!"
Harry huffed. "I'm not gonna do anything about it."
"Why's that?"
"Well, firstly he is probably as straight as a line with my luck," Harry said. "Secondly, I don't know how to do this kinda shit. Also, I just only met him. I don't even know if I will see him again."
"He goes to the University," Niall said. "You gotta bump into him at some point. Also, what was his name even?"
"Louis," spoke Harry, tasting the word on his lips. He really liked the sound of it.
* * *
The following day was Monday. Harry had an English lecture at eleven a.m. and then an Author Class at one-thirty p.m.. He got on his bike at ten a.m., with the intention of doing some homework in the library before English.
He was wearing his coat and scarf, his bag hanging from his shoulders. The weather was cold, but the sun was shining.
When he arrived at the University, he parked his bike and set course for the library. All the University's buildings were large and new, the library no different. But once you stepped inside, it looked far from modern. The walls were forest green, all the shelves in dark wood, and all the plush chairs looked like something taken out of the sixties.
Harry adored it.
He sat down on one of the plush chairs furthest away from the entrance and other students. He used a hair tie to put his, by now, relatively long curls into a small bun, and he pulled his glasses out of his bag. He placed them on the bridge of his nose. Finally, he dug out his laptop and English book. He got to work.
He had about fifteen minutes with nothing to disturb him, but then he heard a familiar voice in his ears. Louis.
It was a couple of shelves away, only getting closer by the minute.
"Zayn, really, I think pizza tonight sounds lovely. Don't you agree, Payno?"
"Lou, we had pizza last Friday. Why not just go with salad and chicken."
"Zayn, you're beginning to sound like my mom."
"Boys." A new voice. Must have been Payno. Whoever that was. "We will get it some other day. We already bought the chicken."
Louis and his two friends stepped into the area where Harry was sitting, their arms full of textbooks. Louis' eyes landed on Harry, and his face broke into a grin.
"Funny to see you here."
Harry sent him a small, nervous smile. He fiddled with his pen "Yeah, it is." His eyes landed on the two other men by Louis' side. Louis recognised one of them—the one with tan skin and black hair, from his English lecture. The other he had never seen, though his first impression of him was a real-life teddy bear.
"Guys, this is Harry," Louis introduced, sitting down in his own chair a few chairs away from Harry. "He's the one I met yesterday at Starbucks."
"Ah," the one from his English lecture said. His eyebrow was raised as he took Harry in. "Nice to meet you, Harry. Officially, I am Zayn, though I believe we take the same English lecture."
"We do, yeah," Harry said. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm Liam," introduced the other. "Nice to meet you."
"You, too."
Louis nibbled with his bottom lip. "Well, we, um, we shouldn't disturb you more, Harry. Nice to see you again." He smiled in Harry's direction, and Harry smiled back. The butterflies were back in his stomach.
The rest of the time he spent doing his homework, he had half his focus on his work, and the other half on the group not far from him.
* * *
Harry didn't spot Louis anywhere for the next three days. And the boy had drifted to the back of his mind. That was until he saw him at Niall's work.
Harry and Niall had agreed to go out drinking after Niall's work since neither of them had any lectures the next day. So at eight p.m., Harry stepped into the pizzeria where Niall worked as a cashier. He spotted his friend immediately, waving his hand.
Niall grinned as Harry walked over. "Hey, Haz."
"Hi, Nigel. How long left of your shift?"
"Fifteen minutes. You can wait by one of the tables if you'd like, but—"
"Harry?"
Harry spun around at the familiar voice, his heart missing a beat.
Louis was standing behind him, wearing black jeans, a band T-shirt, and a denim jacket. His fringe was done in a quiff, and he was wearing a surprised, but pleased expression on his face.
Harry swallowed, heat colouring his cheeks. "Hi, Louis."
"Funny how we keep meeting like this," Louis said in a joking manner, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Yeah," Harry chuckled, tugging a curl behind his ear.
Louis raked his eyes over Harry's body. "Going out?"
Self-consciously, Harry looked down at himself. He was wearing blue jeans, boots, and a button-up with short sleeves. The floral pattern was screaming in pink and blues. "Um, yeah. With Niall, my roommate." He pointed behind himself at the cashier.
"Yo," came Niall's response.
"Hey." Louis lifted his hand in a wave.
"So... are you here alone?" Harry found himself asking.
Louis shook his head. "No, with Liam and Zayn. They're my roommates—"
"Wait, Liam Payne?" interrupted Niall. There was no one in line to the cashier, and he was fully invested in Louis and Harry's conversation.
"Yeah," Louis said, pointing to the back of the restaurant. "We are sitting all the way in the back."
"Sick," Niall grinned. "We have worked together on assignments in Drama before. Nice lad."
"He is, yeah," confirmed Louis. "One of my best mates."
"Why don't we all hang out someday?" Niall asked. "Harry and I are really new here, and we love new friends. Right, Haz?"
"Um, yes, of course," stuttered Harry, casting nasty glances at Niall. He knew exactly what his friend was doing. Niall sent him an innocent smile.
"That sounds like an amazing idea!" Louis said, maybe a tad too enthusiastic. "Harry, could I perhaps get your number, so we can text about it sometime?" He was grinning broadly.
"Yes, Harry would love that," Niall said.
Harry scowled at him, but couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach. He turned his attention back to Louis. "Of course, Louis." He pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Louis to type in his number. Louis did and handed it back to Harry.
"'Handsome guy'," Harry read out loud, raising an amused eyebrow at Louis.
Louis shrugged, smirking slightly. "So you can recognise that it's me that's texting you."
"Oh." Harry's cheeks turned crimson. "Right. Good thinking."
"Louis, if you're gonna order, it's gonna have to be now," Niall said, "'cause my shift is ending."
"Oh, right, of course." Louis' cheekbones tinted red. "Forgot about that for a second."
He ordered and then bid his goodbyes to both Niall and Harry before making his way back down to Zayn and Liam.
"Haz," Niall hissed the moment Louis was out of earshot.
"What?" hissed Harry back.
"He was obviously flirting with you," Niall said.
"No, he wasn't," Harry objected.
Niall raised an eyebrow. "'Handsome boy.'"
Harry's cheeks tinted pink. "Finish your shift, Horan. I need to get wasted."