#larrync17

Harry Styles is feeling uninspired. With a final photography showcase looming in just two weeks, he's quickly running out of time. It's not that he can't get good pictures - taking photos is easy - but he just can't find motivation. Nothing is good enough. He's looking for beauty and he just can't find it.

Louis Tomlinson is eccentric and fun and way too busy handling internet fame to care for the cute, straight boy with the Polaroid camera. After Louis is paired with Harry during a YouTube collaboration competition, he finds himself drawn to him in ways he never expected. Louis doesn't fuck shy boys - he's the life of a party, looking for some rival fun. Harry is none of that so why can't Louis get the boy out of his head?

Now Louis has to spend every minute of the next week with him - the boy who's so not his type. Cooped up in a hotel room, attending fashion shows and art festivals, partying with him. Louis thinks it's his idea of a nightmare.

Because his heart can't handle it.

“That’s my name, baby, I’m Louis.” The voice on the phone inhales sharply, then says, “Gonna take my cock now, princess?”

    Harry lets out a high-pitched mhmm and shudders as he pulls his fingers out of his hole, groping for the vibrator. “Nice to meet you,” he says, feeling a bit dizzy with how hard his untouched cock is.

For the H/L Summer Fic Exchange.

As requested by Calmlikeyou, an AU in which Harry and Louis are interns at Radio 1. Louis is assigned to Greg, and Harry is assigned to Nick. They have a friendly, competitive relationship that also happens to be charged with sexual tension. Of course Greg and Nick have to make a bet about where these two will be caught in a compromising position because two interns with this much chemistry? It's inevitable.

"Please,” Harry said shaking his head slightly, “Louis and I are soul mates, probably, so he most definitely won’t mind that I lied about my tent-building skills.” 

Louis is the front man of a punk band. Harry is a desperate, fifteen-year-old fan. The meet in the aftermath of the 1969 Altamont Free Concert.

  “So what’s the real you then?” Louis questions as he floats farther into the water. “Tell me all about Harold Styles.”

“Well,” he replies. “Harry Styles is 15 years old, lives your typical suburban life, likes weed and lava lamps, wanked off everyday since he was 12 to pictures of Louis Tomlinson.” Harry smirks. “That’s about it.”

“That’s it?” Louis says, floating over to the steps where Harry had been sitting. “Just some high, sex-starved, still-in-the-closet virgin?”

“Yeah, that’s it. The only thing I’m unhappy about is the virgin part.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve been waiting for a certain someone to pop my cherry, catch my drift?”

Louis pulls Harry closer to him, chest to chest. He can feel the hard outline of Harry’s cock against his thigh. Not that’s he comparing- but he thinks that Harry is pretty fucking built for a 15-year-old.

They’re watching Louis talk to some of the older boys on the team and Harry is swooning again. He’s pining so hard that it hurts. “Jesus, he’s gonna notice you’re staring, you know,” Niall informs him and Harry just puts his chin on his hand and stares harder. “I don’t know,” he reasons. “Maybe I want him to notice.”

Louis drives a taxi. He hasn't seen Harry in eight years when they have a chance meeting.

Harry doesn't understand the boy next door.

People don’t normally send surreptitious messages through the form of symbolic emotion and quick glances if they want to be left alone. Right?

No. His new neighbour is trying to say something to him.