·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚HARRY˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙
Harry is not used to things not going his way. Being the firstborn son of one of the most prominent Clan families has its lifelong advantages and he finds that dealing with an opposing force is not a skill his wheelhouse possesses.
While he might be equipped with fine dining skills and impeccable manners, he is not acquainted with the concept of waiting his turn or having to want for anything.
Well aware that he was born with a silver spoon all but shoved in his mouth, he prides himself on taking advantage of it and tries to repay whatever Universe lottery he’s won by focusing on bringing honor to his family. He only wishes that he could do so without the burden of his rival.
The dainty bouquet of colorful flowers that awaits him at the university’s front office is a reminder of that sole opposing force in his life.
“Oh dear, is it Wednesday already?” The secretary asks with a knowing smile when he had come to collect them.
“I suppose it is,” Harry answers as cordially as possible while he surveys the flowers suspiciously.
Wednesdays left a bitter taste in his mouth.
That particular day of the week had always been his favorite. A fond reminder of when his parents and enough time to pick him up from school and prepare a real family dinner. The day he’d always get a heaping scoop of ice-cream after successfully completing his piano lessons, or when a new episode of his TV show had premiered.
Until Louis.
Wednesday’s had been one of the best things in his life and to have the goodness of them ripped so callously away from him by the bane of his existence did not sit well with Harrys ego.
His previous favorite day of the week had been tainted the very first time he had received an unsuspecting package on the passenger seat of his car. He had been walking to the university parking lot to his car and was met with the first of what had come to be dreaded weekly gifts.
An ornate royal-purple jewelry box had hidden an entire swarm of wasps that immediately descended upon him, furious at having been subjected to the lack of air. He had been stung exactly seven times before he was able to persuade the pests out of his car. When he was finally able to think straight, he immediately was assaulted with the unmistakable and familiar scent of maple brown sugar and cinnamon lingering in his car and a clear answer of who was responsible.
Louis Tomlinson has been a vicious thorn in his side since they were mere pups.
It irks Harry to no end that the omega seemingly enchants everyone who steps within a mile radius of him. All he has to do is bat those long lashes of his and spread a smile across his infuriatingly gorgeous face and the object of his attention is immediately smitten.
Harry is quite sure he is the only person on Earth to be immune to the omega’s allure, and even he slips up sometimes. Their many rendezvous in the hidden corridors of their university are only proof of the inconsistency.
Now, as he quickly tries to run through all the poisonous plants he knew, he silently curses Louis’ cunning determination. The omega is responsible for cursed gift after gift, and while Harry gets the opportunity to retaliate every other Wednesday, it seems he is still always the one who suffers the most.
After coming up with nothing but poison ivy, he thoroughly examines the petals for any traces of foul play. He’s not naive enough to expect them to be harmless but he is well aware that he can’t leave them with the poor secretary all day so he reluctantly scoops them by their tied stems and presses them cautiously to his chest as he navigates his way to his next class.
“Oh, I forgot it was Louis’ week to send you something,” his best friend Niall snickers from beside him as they take their seats in the cozy lecture hall.
“He gave me this bouquet,” Harry shows him the purple flowers before setting them down on his desk as he absentmindedly scratches at one of his hands. “I half expected a scorpion to jump out at me, but so far nothing unsavory has occurred. I suppose I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, although I am perplexed that everything seems to be harmless so far.”
“That is kind of unlike him,” Niall ponders. “Could he finally be waving the white flag?”
Harry barely hears the preposterous assumption, instead consumed with scratching the ever-growing itch that is seeming to crawl across both his hands and up his forearms. They feel like they’re doused in fire, but he cannot stop picking and scratching, desperate to soothe the ache. He can’t even focus on what their professor is saying.
Halfway through class, Niall pesters him again. “What on Earth is going on?” He asks concernedly, gesturing to Harry’s bright red skin. “You have three blisters already.”
“I haven’t a single clue,” Harry hisses quietly, not wanting to get reprimanded by their professor. “It just started itching all of a sudden and now it won’t stop.” The second the words are out of his mouth, a lightbulb flicks on in his brain, and he suddenly sits upright in his seat.
“ Louis,” he and Niall say together, evidently having pieced it together in unison.
“What kind of flowers are those?” Niall asks. “The only unsafe ones I know of are hemlock and poison ivy.”
“Oh, what about poison oak?” Harry asks, but Niall is already shaking his head as he discreetly whips out his phone.
“How would you describe them?” The beta asks, fingers poised on the phone keyboard, ready to solve the mystery.
“Bright purple with little pink outlines on the leaves,” Harry supplies, examining the bouquet before his gaze flicks to keep a watchful eye on their professor.
“Aha!” Niall taps at the screen excitedly. “Leadwort? Says here they’re commonly known to cause skin irritation, blisters, and redness.”
Harry stares at the picture, feeling that familiar irritation paired with something dangerous, bubble up in his gut. Of course. He knew Louis would never announce his surrender.
“That little brat,” he curses under his breath, already anticipating the smugness that is bound to radiate off the omega during their next shared class together.
“Damn,” Niall comments, clearly impressed. “You have to admit, that’s a good one. He knew you’d know nothing about plants, and I know for a fact both he and Zayn are studying botany in their environmental science course. How are you going to get him back next week?”
Harry barely pays attention for the rest of class, instead choosing to brainstorm with Niall and think of any hazardous gifts to bestow upon Louis. It’s only the unmistakable sound of everyone gathering their books and leaving their seats that draws him out of his scarlet revenge-tinged reverie and he suddenly realizes that he’s missed the entire class.
“I’ll just get us the notes from Liam,” Niall says, seemingly on the same page as him.
They quickly make their way through the hallway to their next lesson, getting there a few minutes early. The private university they attend is situated far away, perched on precarious cliffs and due to the exclusivity of the establishment, there are hardly ever any annoying masses in the hallways.
Harry simmers quietly as he notices Louis enter the room shortly after him, the omega tossing him a snide smirk and batting those knowing doe-eyes at him. He breathes in through his nostrils, trying to control the urge to pull Louis out of the room and have his way with him right then and there.
“That’s the omega you’re going to marry,” Niall jokes, but the statement is anything but a falsehood.
Louis Tomlinson had been promised to him since birth and Harry had loathed that very fact ever since they had met. Twenty-two years later, he remembers the explosive meeting like it was just yesterday.
He recollects being mildly intrigued by the other little boy with the caramel-colored fringe and bright blue eyes. But there was something irritating about the way Louis had shrieked with glee at the tiniest of things or caused a ruckus of adoring crowds wherever he went. It made Harry fume in his seat at the first Council meeting and his mother had to shush him.
His Council meeting was a hazy memory, the specifics of it had bled together the more he’d attended them over the course of his life, but he recalls the distant conversations of his elders that had bled into a low murmur as he wiggled uncomfortably under the curious gaze of the Tomlinson heir.
After the meeting, a joyous celebration commenced on The Great Lawn. Apparently, it was a substantial piece of news that there were two firstborn sons of the Tomlinson and Styles families, especially because they were the same age. It had only taken Harry a few visits with Louis and his parents before he had begrudgingly come to realize how intertwined the two families would always be.
At the celebration, he had devoured more slices of the cherry pie than his little tummy could ever hope to accommodate and there were too many important members of their society milling about and giving him wide-eyed grins, spouting off compliments about how he and Louis were two fine young boys that would grow up together and make their families proud.
The outside area where they mingled consisted of a particularly bright grassy knoll with large towering trees. Just down the hill was a lake and Harry could see the other small boy standing at the dock staring off into the distance. He was thrown off by Louis’ mellow behavior and felt himself grow grouchy whether it was because of his aching tummy or the fact that Louis had somehow managed to evade all of the pesterings of the elders.
He found himself toddling down the hill towards the body of water as fast as his little legs could carry him. He walked cautiously to the end of the dock, trying to make as little sound as possible. Perhaps he could finally scare Louis into silence.
But the other boy had turned quickly as Harry stood, frozen, a few feet away from him. The glare that Louis had shot him had been the first of thousands that would be fired as a warning over the next twenty-two years of their lives.
“Go away,” Louis had growled softly, baring his little teeth menacingly.
Harry’s parents had always told him he was too stubborn for his own good and the little boy challenging him at the end of the dock only exacerbated his mulish streak. Louis had taken an intimidating step to where he stood, but Harry was not about to back down from this annoying pup, no matter how much he might secretly desire to be liked by him.
Before both of them knew what was happening, Harry had leaped forwards and shoved Louis backward, watching as his miscalculated force ended in Louis making a significant plop in the dark-green mossy water.
He didn’t have the good sense to flee before Louis quickly sprung out of the water, spluttering as his bowl-cut bangs matted themselves to his flushed forehead. The boy swiftly swam back to the dock, hoisting himself up in a surprising display of strength, before throwing himself at Harry in a heated rage, sending them both tumbling on the rough planks of wood.
Louis had promptly bit him as hard as he could on the arm and Harry had snarled in pain, remembering how his own child-like anger had spouted out of him as he reached up and tugged on Louis’ hair as hard as he could, trying to get the boy’s mouth off him. They had rolled around, both growling, as they sought to incite pain and frustration upon the other.
In that frenzy of grimy lake water, tiny fists, and teary eyes, the first roots of animosity had been planted between the pair. Their first brawl was handled by soothing parents that soon became exasperated parents and ended in silently disappointed parents as years of future altercations and petty grievances proceed to fly past them all.
Harry knows he and Louis’ parents were secretly heartbroken that the two of them got along as well as fire and ice. The two families had been ecstatic when they’d found out Anne and Jay were pregnant at the same time. It wasn’t unusual for high-ranking families to promise their children to each other, but Harry knew their parents were hoping that the two would simply mate out of love.
At the very least they expected an amicable friendship out of the future esteemed pair instead of this burning cesspool of hatred and tension that threatened to bubble up like lava and cause total destruction to anyone in its path every time the two of them so much stepped within a foot of each other.
He really does loathe disappointing his parents, but he doesn’t see the animosity between him and Louis evaporating anytime soon.
The memories flick by rapid fire in his mind, only riling him up more. The deep breathing does little to soothe the agitation, and his hands clench into fists at the attraction that ultimately lands in his gut. It only serves to incense him more, glancing down at the irritated and red skin that he’s sure Louis can spot, even from halfway across the room.
The omega sits at an awkward diagonal angle from him, but he still has a crystal-clear vision of the sculpted profile of Louis’ face. His sharp jawline looks soft at the same time and his kissable petal-pink stained lips have Harry narrowing his eyes. The alluring smell that always finds its way to him has his stomach turning in equal parts jealousy and desire.
It’s pouring today, the plump grey raindrops slapping harshly against the windows as the outlines of trees wave frantically in protest. The sky flashes angrily with silver lightning bolts, but the furious weather only accentuates Louis’ beauty, the dull tones of the storm outlining the omega flatteringly.
He sincerely wishes he was engaged to a living version of a troll or gremlin. At least then he’d be able to stay away. But as luck would have it, Louis Tomlinson is probably the prettiest person he’s ever laid eyes on, and knows he’ll never escape him, they’ve been tied together for life.
It’s a shame that they’re forced to see each other every single day for their university lessons and then also every night back at the Council Manor. He is pretty sure that in other communities, families don’t reside in the same home together just because of their high rank and status.
There are other places he’s heard of where students are able to choose for themselves where they get to attend university, far away from their juvenile past. Those universities operate more similarly to real life rather than a private academy. A flash of envy runs through him for those who are afforded that option.
High school was the only reprieve he’d gotten from the omega. He’d been shipped off to an alpha-only preparatory academy and Louis had attended an elite omega finishing school, so their presences rarely clashed with each other. Besides the occasional holiday visit, their non-existent relationship had flourished back then.
His glum thoughts are interrupted by their professor who flounces into the room and sets her briefcase on the desk with a ceremonious thud.
“Good afternoon, class,” she greets them briskly. “I apologize for my tardiness today, but I was assisting in setting up the ballroom for our practice today. I sincerely hope you all have been putting in the work outside of our lessons because today will be seen as a pre-test for your final exams.”
Harry already feels his mood darken as they are orderly ushered into the ballroom. He had forgotten that the Lunar Festival takes place in a little under three months’ time and he knows he’s going to be forced to participate far more than any of the other students.
Everyone gathers in the magnificent ballroom, halfway listening to the professor droning on about how they will be evaluated and the significance of the Lunar Festival.
Tuning out, he lets his eyes fall upwards to the vaulted ceilings of the magnificent room. The floor-to-ceiling windows are adorned with intricate designs, and they stand regal even as they are beaten with the raindrops of the afternoon storm. Harry lowers his gaze to the silhouettes of the thrashing trees and lets himself feel a sliver of satisfaction that the weather appears to match his own stormy mood.
He’s reminded precisely why he’s experiencing such negative emotions when he tunes back into their professor’s words.
“We all know the main purpose of the yearly Lunar Festival is specifically focused on and celebrates the bond between alphas and omegas. It reminds us that while the two classifications are drastically different when fostered properly they can serve as beautiful halves of a whole to each other. As always, we will have Harry and Louis demonstrate the waltz before we formally begin our lesson. Due to their extensive training and chosen career path, this will be an exceptional example of how I expect everyone to perform during evaluations.”
The professor attempts to appease both of them with an encouraging smile but is instead met with a matching pair of scowls.
Harry barely registers when the string quartet in the corner begins to play, his gaze narrowed in on Louis who walks slowly over to him. A dreamy melody begins to haunt the air of the ballroom, and Harry is annoyed with the hitch in his breath as the omega finally stands toe to toe with him. No matter how many achingly painful moments he’s subjected to spend in Louis’ presence, the other boy’s devastating effect on him never ceases.
Unable to think properly with Louis’ piercing blue eyes boring into his own, paired with the warm scent invading his senses, he does the only thing he knows how to make it all stop. He lashes out.
Making to grab Louis’ tiny hand, he waits until the very last moment to instead reach for the other boy’s tie, effectively pulling him in. He dons his very best mocking expression, watching in delight as Louis’ eyes narrow, no doubt anticipating the unsavory words that are about to escape Harry’s mouth.
“Your tie is so unkempt,” he murmurs, feeling a hint of a smirk tug at his face before he proceeds to make a big deal of unknotting Louis’ burgundy tie and re-tying it deftly. It looks the exact same as it does before and he knows they’re both well aware of that.
As expected, Louis retaliates instantly like the childish pup he is. Suddenly Harry is being tugged forward as the omega fists both lapels of his blazer and they’re forced to lean so closely that their noses brush together gently for a lingering second.
“Your poor hands, they look terribly uncomfortable,” Louis breathes out, just as patronizingly sweet. “I cannot imagine what might have caused that. I hope that you seek help.” The double meaning doesn’t go unnoticed.
The familiar torrent of rage washes through Harry’s unamused self and he lets his hands slide down to clutch at Louis’ slender waist, clamping him in a hold that he hopes is suffocating and restrictive. Despite the muted aggression of it all, a zing of satisfaction runs up his spine at the fact that Louis goes so willingly, letting Harry practically own his body in the possessive embrace. He would never physically harm the other boy, even when they’re engaged in such volatile discourse, but the tension crackling between them has Harry’s stomach somersaulting wildly with the need to touch.
Their physical brawling has mostly come to an end after many stern scoldings from their parents and even a few disciplinary meetings from exasperated teachers in the past, but they’ve still been known to get eruptive with each other, like the spark of a match lighting up a puddle of gasoline.
Louis smells like the opposite of gasoline though, and instead like an addictingly warm mix of maple brown sugar and cinnamon.
The scent is swirling around them as they engage in their standoff, but it’s tinged with a dark undertone of spicy caramel. Harry knows this particular variant of Louis’ scent well, having been the reason for it most of the time, but it doesn't get any less potent no matter how many times it assaults his senses.
The omega looks as if he’s going to retaliate again as his eyes flash dangerously in a way that Harry recognizes means he’s struck a nerve. Good.
“Boys please,” the sigh of their professor can be heard even over the sultry notes of the waltz music. “It would be a treat for us all if you were to refrain from your normal antics today and proceed with the demonstration.”
At the mild scolding, they simultaneously release each other, making an exaggerated show of actually straightening out their uniforms so that they’re free of the other’s possessive holds. Heaving out a sigh, Harry slides a firm hand back around Louis’ waist before grasping the omega’s tinier hand in his.
They begin to move together, their bodies aligning and gelling instantly as always, but instead of furious displays of carnal fits of passion, it’s a deliberate show of gracefulness and control. They step and glide all over the flawless floors, the chandeliers lighting up their mutual burning gazes.
“You’re such a brat,” Harry mutters as he lengthens their step, forcing the omega to follow his lead. “I can barely feel my hands. Where did you even find someone to sell you those flowers?”
“You started it,” the omega quietly snips back, even though that is so far from the truth that Harry wants to laugh at the absurdity of it. “For the millionth time, could you please stop stinking up this place with your smell? It’s unbecoming to be so self-absorbed.”
Harry’s grip tightens around his fiance’s hand as they step in tandem.
“Watch it,” is all he says as they continue to move to the music. He observes as Louis ignores the obvious dig, and focuses on keeping his own body parallel to the floor, commanding and firm as he guides the other boy.
They sway to the music until Harry can’t resist picking at the other boy again. Can’t stand when his presence returns to being unnoticed by the omega. Abruptly, he extends his arm, attempting to surprise Louis by leading him into a turn.
To his utmost displeasure, Louis instantly knows what he’s trying to pull and gracefully turns in a circle, looking like an abstract portrait of grace and beauty. Harry inwardly curses the fact that they’ve been designated dance partners for years and that Louis knows every single one of his tricks, even if the omega is able to say the same thing about him.
To the outside eye, it would look like a spot of choreographed perfection, but Harry brings the omega back from the twirl so that they’re pressed together a bit too harshly. He’s unhappy with his failure, and his throbbing hands only serve as a reminder.
“You never learn, do you?” Louis murmurs into his neck. Harry wants to bite him.
He can’t think of a response, verbal or physical, that won’t get him kicked out of class, so he chooses to spin Louis’s smothering presence back out again before they resume the normal choreography. He picks up the pace in only a way that Louis can detect, but the omega seems stubbornly determined to match him step for step.
The music that is being played by the university’s top music program scholars echoes beautifully and eloquently throughout the expansive space, almost enough to make Harry forget that Louis is the one in his arms. He begrudgingly lets a fleeting memory invade his brain of the first private lesson the two had endured. They had spent the entirety of it sticking their tongues out at the other, flinching every time they had to hold hands, and purposefully stepping too hard on the other’s toes.
Now Harry seeks liberties that are not his, letting his aching hand rest dangerously low above the swell of Louis’ ass while trying to ignore the inner pleading of his alpha to position his hands a little lower. Despite their animosity, he’s always been able to read Louis like an open book, and he can tell the omega is feeling just as affected.
“You want it so bad, don’t you?” He asks quietly into Louis’ ear as he pulls him in under the guise of another perfectly timed move. “You think I can’t tell when you’re thinking about me holding you down and stuffing a few fingers in you to open you up before I completely wreck you?”
He observes in sadistic pleasure as the omega fights back a moan and a new scent floods his nostrils, this one much headier, like thick honey. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to tame the omega into complete submission.
“You’re hardly any better,” Louis whispers back, indignance coloring his tone. When he comes back in from another twirl, he briefly presses his face into Harry’s neck again. “You don’t think everyone here can smell your desperate scent, you’re acting like a depraved dog.”
“You don’t get to talk to me like that, little omega,” Harry grits out, sure his face has twisted into a gruesome grimace.
“Why not?” Louis asks just as mockingly. “If anyone gets to, I dare say it should be your future mate.”
Harry knows they’re entering dangerous territory, and the mention of their impending nuptials brings out the volatility between the both of them, so he makes the decision to temporarily back down, praying the final minutes of the waltz goes by quickly. He steers them, both in choreography and in topics, away from the brewing storm that is their courtship.
Distracted, they manage to land stinging insults about everything from the last presentation they’d given in their shared class to their fashion choices at the last party they’d attended. After a few more stifling minutes of proximity, the Lunar waltz finally ends and they bow stiffly to each other, before separating as swiftly as possible.
“A wonderful example as always, boys,” their professor and the rest of the class lightly applaud them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry can see Niall, and their other friend Liam, fighting back their laughter as he and Louis practically stomp back to their respective places in the crowd.
“That was the most intense interaction I have ever laid eyes upon. In fact, I’m surprised literal fire didn't start sprouting between the two of you,” Liam snickers. “I thought I was watching one of those hideous soap operas I catch our maid turning on when she’s over.”
“I really do despise that we have to be the ones responsible for the demonstration every single time. Can’t she just show us an old video or something?” Harry growls quietly, ignoring Liam’s ribbing.
“At least you two look good while doing it,” Niall chortles as he pinches at Harry’s dimple. “A little tense, but still very esteemed overall.”
“Gee, thanks,” Harry says drily, watching as the rest of the class pairs up to practice. He’s relieved that he and Louis are spared from the lesson, and they sit on opposite sides of the room, pointedly ignoring each other in favor of watching the class weave delicately around each other.
*********
“How dare you?” Harry hisses, feeling an entire day’s worth of anger finally bubbling up and ready to explode. He grabs Louis by the wrist and drags him down the hall before shoving him in a dimly lit alcove.
He wants to snap at Louis some more, but he knows it’s fruitless so he settles for sucking furious bites into the omega’s bared neck, sure that his scent is oozing reckless desperation.
“I could barely pick up my pen today, I have two handwritten papers that are due by tomorrow morning, Louis,” Harry snaps in between heated bites of Louis’ soft skin. “I’m the sole heir to the Council, I refuse to let you get away with such disrespect.”
He is sure the omega is probably ready to retaliate with the fact that he’s an heir too, but when the omega falls silent, he knows that they both are aware that fact does little to aid their already tense situation. In fact, it only illuminates the fact that the heirs to two of their society’s most powerful families are entangled in intimate relations that far exceed their usual heated words and flying fists.
Instead, the omega is unusually silent, which only serves to piss Harry off even more. Why couldn’t the little brat act this way when they are surrounded by their friends and family?
“Answer me,” he growls, feeling equal parts lust and fury course through him. “Tell me why you think it’s okay to embarrass me time and time again.” He punctuates the statement by squeezing Louis’ slender hips, pushing him right back into the same wall that the omega had sneakily been trying to inch away from.
“I wouldn’t have to embarrass you if you weren’t such an absolute twat all the time,” Louis shoots back, both of his tiny hands coming to clamp down on Harry’s shoulders.
“Gonna teach you a lesson,” Harry mutters as he finally attaches their mouths. He bites Louis’ lip swiftly, relishing in the omega’s soft groan, before slipping his tongue into the other boy’s waiting mouth. “You’re gonna make this up to me.”
“You wish,” Louis argues, but Harry can already tell he’s fading fast as he tries to keep up with the pace Harry set.
He lets his tongue tease Louis’ softly, savoring the sweet taste, the needy noises echoing in the omega’s throat, and going straight to Harry’s cock. He can feel the base of it swell and he picks Louis up quickly, keeping their mouths attached as he grips the bottom of the other boy’s thighs and haphazardly stumbles them into his bedroom.
He reluctantly abandons Louis’ bitten-raw pink lips as he undresses them both as fast as he can. It’s hardly graceful, with limbs knocking together and clothes flying around the room in a swirl of chaos. He has to press a punishing bite to the underside of Louis’ jaw when the omega laughs at his bruteness.
Teasingly he traces up the column of Louis’ exposed throat before dropping his finger into the boy’s waiting mouth. Louis sucks on it feverishly, eyes never once leaving Harry’s face until he can’t bear the tension anymore, crashing his mouth back on Louis’, just barely removing his finger away in time.
Spit-slick sounds and low whines fill the room around them mixed with their scents and it’s doing Harry’s head in. He hauls Louis up from around his slender waist, so they’re both sitting at the side of the bed, the omega straddling his lap as they kiss.
He can feel his own groans escaping as the omega’s little tongue teases him right back, starved and needy. He grips desperately at Louis’ back, hands running over the silky smooth skin, before settling on the curve of Louis’ ass.
Fondling the plump flesh, he smacks the cheeks twice, relishing in Louis’ whines. “You’ve been bad today, baby,” he says in between their frantic mouths.
“Not,” Louis whines beautifully, back arching as he circles his arms around Harry’s neck.
“Yes,” Harry says pointedly, sucking lovebites all over Louis’ throat. They instantly bloom purple and red, the perverted collar of possession making Harry’s alpha growl in satisfaction. “Know you can be good for me now, though.”
They continue to kiss sloppily, both clutching at the other wherever they can grab. Harry bites back a moan as Louis begins to rock back and forth on his lap. He’s almost distracted by the blunt nails that come to grip his shoulders, but he regains control and bites down on Louis’ bottom lip, watching in pleasure as he tugs at it gently, causing the omega to whine.
“What do you think you’re doing, pup?” He asks.
“Please, I need you,” Louis whines again, renewing his efforts with more fervor.
“Is that so?” Harry still has some coherence left in him to tease his future mate. He deserves it, after all. “Just like you needed to give me a poisonous plant today?”
“You like it,” Louis slurs out, still rocking back and forth, and Harry can’t really argue with that. There is something about his ornery omega challenging him week after week, that his alpha takes great pleasure in. But he can’t let Louis call all the shots.
“I didn’t, baby,” he tuts as they continue to rut hopelessly against each other. “Is that what good omegas do? No.” He croons, savoring the sweet drag of their heated bodies and the slick that leaks from Louis’ hole onto his own legs. “Especially when I have something you need right now, pup.”
“Alpha,” Louis moans out, completely drunk on lust, just the way Harry likes him. “Please.”
“You’re so polite now,” he teases him. “Wish you were like this all the time.”
Even in his sloppy state, Louis frowns at him, before pressing one of his own bites to Harry’s jawline.
“No,” he argues, and Harry has to give it to him for being right about yet another thing. Something about the inherent boldness of his omega will always appeal to him more than that of a docile, obedient one.
He smacks Louis’ arse a few more times, enjoying the moans the omega makes at the spanking. He makes sure to grip the flesh firmly between each hit, loving that the outline of his hand stays on Louis’ arse.
It isn’t long before Harry hears a distinct pop as the omega sinks down on his cock. They both moan in unison, something that Harry finds impossibly hot.
Louis bounces recklessly on his lap, taking every single drop of his pleasure from Harry. He feels a streak of possessiveness accompanied by the need to mark his omega who positively glows with pleasure. He knows they’re both close, can tell by the steady gush of Louis’ slick, so he steadies the reckless hips of his future mate, fingers making indents into Louis’ hip bones.
Pressing their forehead together, he forces Louis to look straight into his eyes.
“Say sorry,” he punctuates the two words with two chaste kisses on Louis’ swollen lips.
Ever stubborn, Louis chases his mouth, but Harry is faster than the wanton omega and he dodges his desperate attempt.
“No,” Louis mewls in displeasure, trying to connect their mouths again.
“Say sorry to me,” he commands again, this time dipping his head down to mouth at Louis’ bare and glistening shoulder. He drags his teeth along the sweet skin, feeling Louis shake in his lap with absolute need.
“You,” Louis whines out demandingly, and Harry sighs. After so many identical conversations to this one, no matter how spacey he can make his future mate, Louis will always demand an apology right back.
“Sorry, pup, ‘m sorry,” he murmurs, brushing Louis’ hair off his sticky forehead.
“I’m sorry,” Louis replies automatically, pulling Harry closer to him.
A spark electrifies somewhere in Harry’s body at the proximity, and he hugs Louis back just as tightly as the omega starts to bounce on his cock again. He grits his teeth, trying to stay strong.
“Are you gonna do this again?” He prods, desperate for Louis to cease fire on their torturous gifts to each other.
“Yes,” Louis gasps out as he comes, painting both their tummies with ropes of silky white. Harry knows he should be displeased with the defiance from his omega, but at this moment, he finds he really doesn’t want Louis to answer any other way. Wants this omega no matter how much of a menace he is.
Harry’s palms itch, no longer with the troublesome plant that was gifted to him, but instead with the need to leave lasting marks on Louis’ perfect ass, so he spanks him a few more times as the omega completely submits, letting Harry use him.
Harry rocks them back and forth as he thrusts up into Louis’ leaking hole, using every little whimper that leaves his omega’s mouth as fuel. He bites and drags his fingernails, and owns Louis as he approaches his own climax. Finally, he finds the delicious spot he’s been lusting after, and he moans onto Louis’ flushed skin as he begins to thrust in earnest.
His teeth brush right near Louis’ mating spot as he comes, white spots of pleasure dancing in front of his eyelids. His body spasms as he resists knotting Louis’, instead focusing on the feeling of coming all over the boy’s chest. He strokes at Louis’ smooth thighs, watching with heavy lids as Louis mindlessly kisses his throat.
“Get up for me, little one,” he rasps out, feeling utterly spent. But he’s not quite done yet.
Standing between his legs, Louis looks utterly debauched, cheeks flushed and hair mussed as his glassy eyes track Harry’s own face. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight.
He manages to find the strength to lean forward, this time latching over one of the boy’s sensitive nipples. It’s pebbled, pink, and perfect, and he tugs at it teasingly with his teeth, enjoying the way Louis is back to desperately shaking. Harry let him off easy and now he intends to truly make his future mate pay for it.
It feels like eons as he alternates between each nipple, toying and teasing with the perked flesh. There are tears of pleasure streaming down Louis’ pink face as he grapples at Harry’s own messed-up curls. He makes his way down to the little dip of Louis’ tummy, mouthing at it and clutching his soft hips.
“Need you, alpha,” Louis cries out, squirming under Harry’s ministrations.
Harry ghosts his mouth down, down, down until he leaves teasing traces of his breath all over the top of Louis’ little cock. Like the brat he is, Louis tries to force his hips forward. Much like how Louis had anticipated Harry’s antics during their waltz practice, this time it’s Harry who has the other boy all figured out here.
“Don’t,” he orders, stilling Louis’ hips once more. He lets a few more agonizing seconds pass before he’s forcing his hands between the omega’s tanned thighs, and gently repositioning him so that Louis’ hands are braced on the wall, and his ass is jutted out, right in Harry’s face.
He presses his handprints experimentally into the plump flesh, taking his time to savor the view. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of Louis’ ass. The omega is still petulant, wiggling his hips backward so that Harry’s nose almost ends up in the tantalizing crack of his ass.
Still. It won’t do.
“Stay. Still,” he says, gripping the flesh punishingly. Rearing back, he lands four distinct smacks on Louis’ bottom, listening to the boy’s choked groans.
Instantly, Louis freezes and Harry tries hard to keep the pleased growl tucked away, but he fails. “What a good pup,” he praises, squeezing Louis’ ass less harshly this time. “Gonna be a good boy for me now?”
Louis can only mewl in agreement, resting his head gently against the wall in front of him.
“Good boy,” Harry offers him before he’s leaning forward and noses at the ass in front of him. He feels like a starved man wandering for days in the desert, who finally arrived at a gushing waterfall, ready to take.
He can already feel his cock beginning to swell again as he experimentally explores the shaky muscles of Louis’ bottom. Finally, he allows himself to lick at Louis’ puffy hole, groaning as slick all but gushes out of the muscle.
“You taste so good, little one,” he barely manages to get out as he laps at Louis’ entrance.
He twists and turns his tongue, flattening it to catch every single bit of slick that is available to him. He licks fat stripe after stripe all over Louis’ fluttering hole and it’s not long before the omega is slumping against the wall as he comes again. Harry nips at his hole, savoring the sweet taste of his omega.
“Will you let me open you up again, pup?” He pleads, still not done with his little prince of an omega. He’s never done hard drugs, but he’s sure this must be somewhat close to what pure euphoria feels like.
“‘Kay,” Louis slurs out. He’s tired, it’s obvious to Harry, but he still manages to push his ass back out, ready to be taken for the third time that evening.
Harry tentatively circles around the puffy rim, using his free hand to still Louis as he starts to thrash, no doubt trying to escape the sensitivity. He briefly rubs at the leaking hole with the pad of his middle finger, before he’s pushing it past the tightness.
“More,” Louis moans out. “More, alpha.”
“Want more?” Harry asks him rhetorically. “Beg for it, baby. Beg for your alpha.”
“Please, alpha,” Louis squeals, trying to rock back on the singular finger inside of him. “Please?”
“Anything for you, pup,” Harry answers automatically, and here, he can pretend that’s true. He quickly pushes his pointer finger towards the entrance, ghosting the entrance barely, before he quickly pulls it back.
“Alpha,” Louis moans. “Stop teasing.”
Harry lands another swift smack to his ass. “Hush, pup. You’ll get what I think you deserve.”
Still, he can’t really deny Louis anything in the bedroom, so it’s not long before he’s sinking his second finger in, obsessed with the way it disappears into the velvety heat. He spreads him open again slowly, scissoring and parting his fingers as Louis squirms and moans.
“You’re mine,” he says breathlessly. He knows it’s sick, getting pleasure from the fact that this prickly omega, who he despises 99% of the time, is truly all his for the rest of his life, but his alpha wants what it wants.
The ensuing silence has him removing his fingers abruptly, listening as Louis whines in protest. “Lou, baby,” he says.
“I’m yours, I’m all yours, alpha,” Louis babbles, sticking his ass out again. “Promise.”
“That’s right, pup,” Harry says heatedly as he returns his fingers past the puckered hole. “All mine.”
He adds a third finger, stretching Louis who is no doubt feeling the languid burn. At the same time, he uses his free hand to stroke his own cock, gasping at the pleasure. After a few more moments, Louis comes for the third time, with Harry following suit. By now, the omega is practically spineless, limbs all jelly, so Harry hauls him back into his lap and sits on the bed again.
“You did so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You wanna take a bath?”
Louis squirms and fidgets in his lap, but Harry knows it’s a solid yes. He is well aware it’s not really typical for one to share a bath with their mortal enemy, but there's really nothing conventional about their relationship.
There is one decadent bathtub that both of them had attempted to claim as their own since they’d moved in. After many post-coital tussles over the luxurious space, they’d simply decided it was easier to share.
Harry peeks out cautiously into the hall, his omega snuggled safely in his arms, making sure there isn’t anyone around. Their parents are housed in an entirely different wing of the manor, but he’s not one to take chances.
Once in the lavish bathroom, he deftly manages to get the water running and to an agreeable temperature, all with Louis still cuddled into his arms. When the tub is mostly full, he gently deposits his omega into the hot water. The sigh that Louis lets out as he melts into the bathtub is undeniably cute, and Harry has to look away, scrunching his nose in a fruitless attempt to quell the fondness.
He cautiously slips into the hot water, letting the liquid ease his tense muscles before he’s pulling Louis back onto his lap. Even in the water, he can still smell the sweet scent that lays on Louis’ skin, a permanent perfume.
He buries his face in Louis’ neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin. Then he takes the utmost care to bathe his omega, soaping up his entire body with lavender soap and scrubbing it tenderly until he’s practically sparkling. In the silence of their private oasis, it’s easy to pretend that everything could be okay. That he and Louis could be madly in love or at least semi-tolerable of the other.
It’s a wicked game. Harry knows it’s dangerous and he ponders this as Louis returns the favor, lathering his curls, and making sure he’s just as clean. He knows it’s detrimental when they hold each other in the chilling water, idle lips moving against soft skin, and hands gently clutching each other. And it’s dangerous as he dries them both off with a towel, and presses more kisses to Louis’ damp fringe.
Like any typical alpha, he’s always been impulsive and therefore he’s very much reminded of why it’s so dangerous when the words come spilling out of his mouth. “It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
The omega looks at him curiously, having become more coherent since they’d bathed off the post-orgasm haze.
“Us being mated?” He says, immediately wishing he’d never said the words at all, as Louis’ mouth sets into a grim line.
“Why would you say that?” Louis says quietly, and for once Harry is glad that he didn’t set off an explosive reaction.
“We had a nice time, didn’t we?” He knows it’s a weak reason, but it’s true. Sometimes in the tender pockets of their hookups, he’s able to see a future with the prickly omega. They complement each other nicely in bed, he doesn’t understand how it all goes to shit in the real world.
“After we had sex? You think I would want to mate with you because we had a few nice moments after you basically accosted me in the hallway for no reason?” This time Louis’ voice is a bit shriller, and Harry can tell he’s gearing up for a fight.
“I didn’t accost you,” he said stiffly, feeling his own armor take form from Louis’ poisonous bullets. “Don’t act like I’m the only one who gets pleasure out of this, Louis.”
“I’m not,” Louis hisses, words striking Harry painfully. “But that’s all this is, Harry. Pleasure. Nothing else. So please, stop acting like either of us want this. If I had a choice of someone to marry, it sure as hell wouldn’t be you.”
The sentence stings more than Harry cares to admit so he lashes back out. “Well, you don’t have a say, do you?” he says, feeling the familiar cold seep back into his tone. It’s specifically reserved for the omega standing in front of him. “In four months, you’ll be mine to do as I please with and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.”
It’s a low blow, one that Harry really takes no desire in dishing out, but something about the omega drags him down to his lowest point.
Louis’ eyes turn an impossibly bold shade of angry blue and Harry almost wants to cower, but he matches the omega’s glare as Louis throws the towel at his face and stomps out of the bathroom.
“Good talk,” Harry says tiredly into the lingering air of thick tension they’d both had an equal hand in creating.