Chapter Thirteen
Steam curls up against Zayn's reddened cheeks as he takes another sip of his hot tea. His fingers curl around the mug tightly. Harry admires the floral tattoo that stains his olive skin, bumping over his knuckles with beautiful patterns. His body is like a work of art.
He's definitely one of the most popular dancers at Fool's Gold. While most of the strippers are petite, young twinks, Zayn is a majestic sex god with rippling muscles, tattooed skin, and pierced ears. He offers some variety for the customers who crave bad boys and troublemakers. His stage name is ironic, Harry thinks, because he's anything but angelic.
When Harry first started working at Fool's Gold, Zayn was the first dancer to make him feel welcome. He showed him the ropes, taught him how to apply makeup, and even gave him a few critiques whenever he practiced on the pole. Harry deeply admires his work ethic and his concern for others. Although he masks his appearance as a rebel, he's really just a sweet, kind, selfless twenty-two year old.
Currently, they're gathered inside of Louis's cabin. Zayn sits across from Louis and Harry on the opposite sofa, sipping his tea silently. It's dark outside, pitch black, with the full moon shining brightly in the sky. White moonlight soaks through Louis's curtains. Since his cottage is nestled in the deep wilderness, they can hear wildlife and nighttime birds screeching in the darkness. The wind whistles against his glass windows and muffles their voices.
"So," Zayn says, clearing his throat. His gaze shifts between Harry and Louis, who sit together on the couch with their hands nearly touching. "I have a feeling you two are more than just mates."
Harry gulps. The truth is, he doesn't know if they are more than platonic. They have yet to discuss labels, but he doesn't know if he can emotionally handle that conversation right now. He's starting to accept the fact that Louis is his bond, but he's not sure if he's ready to accept him as his lover. Or if he even wants Louis to be his lover.
"I don't want there to be any lies between us," Zayn huffs out. "What happened earlier was very... intense, and I'm concerned for you, Rose. I really am."
Harry's mouth feels dry. "Listen, Angel. I can't really explain what's going on between Louis and I. To be honest, I'm trying to understand it myself. But— I'm safe, okay? I promise."
Zayn tilts his head apprehensively. "You weren't acting like yourself. You were so... distant. Like you couldn't live unless you had Louis by your side. That's not healthy."
Louis tenses. "I would never hurt Harry," he assures.
He genuinely means it. Even the very thought of harming Harry makes his stomach feel queasy. As his protector, it's Louis's job to watch over him and assist him through his transition. It's like a paternal instinct, but less fatherly. More animalistic.
(Although, Louis wouldn't mind if Harry called him Daddy.)
Zayn sighs at length. "Then why can't you tell me what's going on?"
"It's complicated," Louis says simply. His arm curls protectively around Harry's shoulder. He can feel his weight pressing down on his neck, and it acts as a constant reminder that Louis is here by his side, keeping him safe.
"Right," Zayn breathes. "I had a feeling you were gonna say that."
Harry frowns. "I just—"
"I looked up your symptoms online," Zayn interrupts. "Attachment, fatigue, excess sleep, feelings of worthlessness, and loss of appetite. I must say, I'm surprised at what I stumbled across."
Harry shoots Louis a nervous glance. His dull nails dig into the couch cushion with anxiety. A fraction of silence passes between them. Harry wonders if Zayn found any information about vampires or bonding. The idea of being exposed makes his head spin in circles.
"And after I started researching it some more, it all started to make sense," Zayn continues. "I just want you to know what I completely support your lifestyle, okay? As long as you're safe."
Louis pauses. "Our lifestyle?"
Harry thinks he might throw up. Oh, God. Zayn knows that they're vampires. He knows that they're bonded, and now everything is ruined. How could he have been so reckless?
"Yeah," Zayn says after a few seconds. A faint pinkness rises to his cheeks. "I mean, I never expected Harry to be into the whole BDSM thing, but it's your choice, and I completely understand."
Their stomachs both drop sharply. Louis actually grins, while Harry stares blankly. Is that what Zayn thinks? For fuck's sake.
"Um," Harry chokes out, which is actually more intelligible than what he's thinking (Wait, what?).
"I gotta tell you, sub drop sounds absolutely terrifying," Zayn says, chuckling softly to break the tension. "I'm just glad Louis could take care of you afterwards."
Harry wants to cry. No, no, no. This isn't right. This is all false, but he knows he can't tell him the truth. That would not only expose Harry's vampiric abilities, but also Louis's. So he just lets Zayn live in his delusional world where Harry is some kind of masochist who thrives off of Louis's attention.
"Sub drop," Harry repeats slowly.
He's heard of it before, but just vaguely. He remembers a former dancer at Fool's Gold who used to be in a BDSM relationship. He told Harry that his partner would sometimes fall into this state of depression after an intense sexual scene. It's supposedly triggered by a sudden drop of adrenaline and endorphin, or something like that.
Zayn smiles softly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of people have weird kinks."
Harry sputters to choke out, "I'm not—"
"Hush, baby," Louis cuts him off, a smirk tugging on his pink lips. His hand squeezes his shoulder comfortably, and even though Harry knows it's all an act, it feels nice. "Be a good boy and lower your voice."
Harry blushes and sinks back into the comfy sofa. Zayn suddenly looks awkward, like he's invading their personal space. He takes another sip of his tea before setting it down on the coaster.
"Anyway, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone now," he says, standing up. When he flexes his arms over his shoulders to stretch out his muscles, Harry hears his joints pop. "I've said everything that I've wanted to. I love you, Harry, and I support you. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, too. Just don't let it interfere with work again."
Harry bites his lip shyly. "I won't."
"Alright, then. I'll see you at the club tomorrow, yeah?" Zayn smiles. He ruffles a hand through Harry's soft curls. Harry just dimples in return, trying to suppress his inner-confusion.
"Thanks for having me over, Louis," Zayn says, giving him a short wave as he heads towards the nearby foyer.
With that, he tugs on his jacket and leaves the warm cottage. Louis and Harry sit in silence as they stare out the window. They watch Zayn's bright, yellow headlights flash on as he pulls out of his driveway and speeds down the road.
As soon as his engine can no longer be heard, Louis snorts. He looks over at Harry with wild, surprised eyes and a goofy grin. He can't believe that just happened. He doubles over in laughter until his cheeks turn pink. Harry just crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.
"It's not funny!" he growls, smacking Louis's shoulder.
Louis gasps in between his giggles. "Zayn thinks we're in a BDSM relationship!" he cackles.
"Shut up!" Harry huffs. "It's completely humiliating."
"Aw, c'mon, H. It's hilarious!"
"Maybe for you," he says stubbornly. "But he thinks I'm the submissive one. What the fuck?"
Louis smiles smugly, wiping the hysterical tears out of his eyes. "You're the youngest, love. And besides, you shake your arse for a living. You spend half of your day wearing skimpy panties."
Harry's mouth gapes. "It's my work uniform!"
Louis snickers, little crinkles forming next to his eyes. "Don't raise your voice at me, baby. Do you want Daddy to spank you?"
Harry covers his flushed face with his hands. "Louis, please."
"That's Daddy to you," he corrects. He's having way too much fun with this, but he wants to milk this moment for all that it's worth.
Harry grumbles something incoherently before he stands up with frustration. He turns around to leave, probably to lock himself in the bathroom, but Louis clamps his hand around his wrist and pulls him back down. A look of sincerity crosses over his face.
"Hey, I'm sorry," Louis says seriously. "I won't tease you anymore. I'm just trying to lighten the mood."
Harry frowns as he picks at his short nails, rubbing at the red polish residue. He can't look up and meet Louis's enchanting eyes. Those silver depths are capable of holding him hostage.
"I was actually scared that Zayn found out about us," he mumbles. "That we're vampires, y'know? I thought we'd have to run away to another continent and change our names. I thought I ruined everything, and it was terrifying."
Louis chews on the inside of his cheek. Slowly, he reaches over and caresses Harry's hand. His thumb rubs over the smoothness of his palm. Not surprisingly, his touch calms him down instantly. Perks of having a bond.
"It's okay," Louis promises. "We're okay."
And just like that, Harry believes him. "We're okay," he echos.
Louis's smile widens. He never anticipated that, after two hundred and twenty six years, he'd finally find someone like this. Someone who makes his heart leap out of his chest. Someone who keeps him on the edge of his seat. Someone who brightens his day and makes his tummy feel all tingly.
"Are you tired?" Louis asks. "It's been a long day. You seem like you need a proper rest."
Harry hums thoughtfully. "Yeah. Wanna relax for a little while."
Louis nods in agreement. "I'll go fetch some blankets and pillows. You still don't mind sleeping on the couch, right?"
Harry considers it. It's not like his couch is uncomfortable. He's slept on it several times before, after all. But it's always so lonely when Louis disappears into his own bedroom, leaving Harry to dwell in solitude. He likes the comfort of firm, familiar arms around his waist as he drifts off into a state of slumber.
"Can I sleep with you?" Harry asks bashfully.
Louis furrows his brow. "You mean—"
"Not like that," Harry giggles. "I mean, erm, I wanna cuddle? If that's alright."
Louis's lungs constrict. He's so damn adorable. His cuteness should be illegal, honestly. It's starting to take a toll on his emotional and physical wellbeing.
"Of course," Louis agrees after a few seconds.
So they walk into his dimly-lit bedroom and curl up in his bed wordlessly. His white sheets feel cold, soft, and smooth against Harry's shaven legs. Louis tugs up his blue duvet so it wraps them with warmth. Their feet knock against each other. Harry giggles softly as he turns onto his side. Out of instinct, Louis curls his arms around his waist and tucks his soft curls beneath his chin. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of his head.
"Goodnight," Harry yawns.
"Night."
When his eyes flutter shut, he hears Louis's soothing voice whisper in his head. Sweet dreams, baby.
Harry knows the cute pet name is another submissive joke, but he doesn't mind. Not one bit.