home is wherever i’m with you; chapter 9.

[prologue] [chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [chapter 7] [chapter 8]

based off of this prompt: Louis gives a teacher a blow job at his school, his parents find out and decide to ship him off to a conservative Private School far away. There he meets Harry, who is incredibly innocent and doesn’t really understand the concept of sex. Louis makes it his mission to pop Harry’s cherry, and turn him into a cock!slut. He falls for Harry in the process. (last part is optional.) Louis is 17 and Harry has just turned 15.

rating: mature

It’s completely silent in Fulneck. There are no birds chirping in the trees or students roaming the halls. The sky is a promising shade of grey and the sun is hidden behind a blockade of heavy clouds. It’s been raining since nearly midnight and the streets outside are covered in slick ice.

Harry’s got his arm over his face like it can help him hide from the reality of having to get up soon. He didn’t even want to think about moving, the thought of leaving his bed made him sick. He’s thinking about chorus and how he’s supposed to sing with a sore throat; thinking his legs are cold and where the fuck are my covers? It’s not until he rolls over onto his side that he remembers he’s not alone.

Lying beside him is Louis, curled in a ball and breathing steadily through pink parted lips. He’s cocooned in Harry’s thick duvet, legs bunched up so he looks even smaller than usual, and his feathery brown hair is falling in front of his eyes. (Harry knows it’s creepy to stare but he honestly looks like a fallen angel or something so how could he not?)

He’s reaching out to do God knows what (he just wants to touch him) when suddenly More Than A Feeling is blaring through his radio speakers and he’s jumping away from Louis like he’s been tazed. Louis jolts too, blinking his tired eyes awake. His expression is somewhat startled before it melts into annoyed and he’s sitting up, trying to unwrap himself from the blankets impossibly tight hold. In a moment the sound is gone and Louis’ plopped back down to where he was before, pushing the blanket off of his legs and wrapping an arm around Harry’s warm chest.

Louis looks up at him with shiny blue eyes and this cute little smile and Harry’s heart constricts in his chest because he really just wants this so much every morning. “Good morning.” Louis whispers softly to avoid hurting Harry’s head. “How do you feel?”

Harry just stares at him in response. How is he even real?

Louis’ eyes flash with amusement before narrowing so they’re squinted into tiny slits. “How am I even real?” He repeats, giggling (giggling) and Harry blushes furiously at the sudden realization because he really, really hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “That’s not an answer!”

Harry groans, turning his head away like he can hide. “I feel like shit,” Harry mutters, his voice rough and groggy. It still hurts to speak. “My head feels like it has bricks in it.”

Louis frowns, shifting forward so he can steal more of Harry’s body heat. “Are you going to stay in bed today?”

The younger boy shrugs. “I was thinking about it.” Louis props himself up on his elbow, looks down at him.

“I…I’m quite tired, too.” He says softly, eyes moving over Harry’s lips. “I might take the day off as well. If you do.”

Harry is silent as Louis rests his head down on his chest, but when he looks up Harry is beaming down at him. “Well…you could stay here if you want.”

“How kind of you to offer.”


It’s nearly 11:30 am when Louis rolls over to find himself in an empty bed. He registers the sound of a shower behind the half shut bathroom door and rubs his eyes tiredly. The bed is still warm, still smells like him. For a moment, he considers just lying there; or maybe getting up to get food. But then he realizes they’re basically wasting precious alone time and he gets up quickly, stretching before shuffling into the bathroom.

The steam is hot and sticks to his skin immediately; he wants to get out of his clothes but he’s distracted very suddenly by his view of Harry through the glass shower door. The younger boy is tall (taller than he was when they first met) and lean, and his body is slowly developing into something perfect. His thighs and arms are more toned, back and shoulders more muscular, and Louis wonders when he had the time to even do that considering they spend nearly all their time together.

Louis strips himself, chucking his shirt into an already made pile of clothes and doing the same with his sweatpants. When he opens the shower door Harry jumps, turning around with wide eyes and his toothbrush hanging loosely out of his mouth. Like it’s some sort of tick he can’t help, his eyes travel downward and he blushes when Louis laughs in response, poking his stomach teasingly.

"Hi." Harry says, hand automatically moving to the curve of Louis’ waist so he can pull him in.

Louis steps forward so he’s under the spray of the water, looks up at Harry. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Harry shrugs, continues to brush his teeth. “I was going to…but then. I dunno. I decided I wanted to kiss you awake.” Louis’ chest tightens and he can see Harry flush an even darker shade of red than the heat of the shower provided. “That sounded cheesy as fuck, sorry—”

“I thought it was cute.” Louis shrugs, smiles easily. They shower in a comfortable silence; Harry finishes brushing his teeth and Louis washes his hair with Harry’s shampoo, secretly giddy he’d smell like him now. When they’re clean, Louis cranes his neck to kiss him and Harry hunches slightly, cupping Louis’ jaw with a strong grip. Louis’ hands are on his neck, pulling him down.

“Quit growing, would you?” Louis says between kisses. “It’s like I have to climb to get to you.”

“I’ve realized this…it’s a lot easier laying down,” Harry says, grinning into their kiss.

Louis stops and looks at him, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re awfully cheeky this morning.”

Harry nods, squeezing his ass suddenly. Louis squeals, arms tightening around his neck and hips rutting against the other boys. He deepens the kiss, deciding he likes Harry like this, likes that they can be giggling and still feel Harry against his thigh.

“Hard for me?” Louis asks in a breath. Harry nods.

“Yes,” He mutters. “Want you.” His breath hitches when Louis immediately wraps his fingers around his length, moans as he pumps along the base of his cock and drags his fist up, rubbing his thumb over the head. Harry’s hands move to Louis’ back, fingernails dig into his skin.

“Kiss me,” Louis says, looking up at Harry. He complies immediately, leans down and kisses him like he needs it to breathe. His lips part willingly under Louis’, his tongue tastes like spearmint and his lips are soft and warm from the water. Harry pulls away and Louis makes a sound of disappointment, frowning when Harry pulls his hand away. Instead, he lines up his cock next to Louis and wraps his fingers around both, pumping quickly. It’s like it’s meant to be, really, because Harry’s fingers are so long they fit around them better than Louis’ ever could.

Louis moans, tilting his head back, and places a hand over Harry’s so his fingers fit between his. Harry comes first; it splashes over Louis’ chest and disappears in seconds when the water hits it. Louis is close; his hand is wrapped painfully tight around Harry’s bicep and he’s making these soft whining noises that are driving Harry mad. It’s not long until he comes as well, toes curling against the tiles and knees suddenly going weak.

He kisses Harry until the warm water is gone, thinking to himself I love you I love you I love you with every kiss he leaves on his skin, and even though he doesn’t say it out loud he knows Harry gets it because Harry kisses him the same way, desperate and deep like he’s giving him everything he can. When they turn off the water they towel off and fall back into bed, covering themselves with Harry’s blanket and declaring their day done. Today was their day to do nothing and they planned on enjoying it thoroughly.


Louis wakes up in his own bed the next morning. It was sort of a mutual agreement that they’d made for him to go back to his own room last night, in fear that they’d grow sick of each other if he stayed for too long.

It’s weird now, now that he knows how great it feels waking up beside Harry’s warm presence, to be laying there alone. His cell phone buzzes next to his pillow and it’s Zayn, telling him to get his arse down to the caff mate. x

It’s Saturday so Louis doesn’t really spend much time perfecting his outfit, opting to hop into some joggers and a t-shirt that he’s pretty sure he borrowed (stole) from Harry. He still smells like Harry and his shampoo, and his lips are bruised and slightly chapped from all of their kissing. When he walks into his bathroom it was like he could still feel the boys touch, skin tingling in a way that leaves goosebumps. It was weird because, well. He was everywhere to him now.

His cell phone goes off again, but this time it’s from Niall.

Even harrys here n he spent yestrday barfing his guts out!!!get down here!

Louis scoffs, because now he’s imagining Harry playing up some story about how he could barely move he was so sick yesterday, and it’s funny that Niall’s actually bought it because Harry is generally a terrible liar.

He types back a quick ‘be there soon’ to Niall before sending one to Harry.

Why didn’t you wake me up! Stop letting me sleep in you twat!

Harry texts back in a matter of seconds. They woke me up with coffee and offerings of free food! I had no choice!

Whatever. Get me a bagel please?

Oh and tea? X

Whatever you say dear.

Louis grins down at his phone, looking briefly at his reflection in the mirror before deciding a tighter pair of pants wouldn’t hurt anybody. Except maybe Harry. 


“There he is!” Niall shouts from the other side of the room, drawing nearly everybody’s attention to him. “Sleeping beauty’s woken up!”

He notices Harry smiles broadly next to him. My prince, he thinks.

“Ah, gracing us with your presence? How kind.” Zayn says, watching him while he chooses to sit down next to Harry even though there’s an empty space next to him. Niall is squished against the wall, eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a scowl. “Oh, also, your slave has gone and fetched some food for you.”

“Perfect.” Louis says, smiling contently as he spreads a slab of cream cheese onto his bagel.

“So,” Liam says quickly. “We’ve been chatting a bit about our New Years plans.”

“Oh?” Louis asks distractedly.

“Yeah, and we’ve been thinking we should all meet at Niall’s around the 30th, and we can leave the 2nd, so you can all have time to recover from your inevitable hangovers.” He waves his hands vaguely between Niall and Zayn, shrugging.

Louis nods, like the idea is fine by him, but suddenly his brain is registering the words and, “Wait—wait?” He asks as everyone continues to eat. “Don’t—but you’re Irish. You live in Ireland and I have no money—wait, how did you even end up here?”

"I live with my aunt and uncle." Niall says, lifting a forkful of scrambled eggs to his mouth. Louis’ expression is unmoving, still blatantly confused. “I’ve lived with my aunt and uncle for like, years. Parents are sort of tossers, really, just shit parents.” He folds a piece of bacon and shoves it into his mouth. “My aunt’s real nice, uncle works a lot. Didn’t really know what to do with me since they never had any kids of their own. They sent me here cause that’s where my uncle went to school and he just never shut up about ‘all his great times’ and stuff. They only live about an hour away.” Louis looks baffled for a moment, thinking idly how fucking weird it was he never even asked how Niall was Irish and ended up at Fulneck; but then he just shakes his head and says okay and the topic is pretty much over.

“Anyways—“ Liam cuts in. “His house is the biggest and easiest for all of us to get to. Do you think that’d work out for you, Lou?”

“Er—yeah. Probably. Don’t think my mum will even really want me around for too long, anyways.”

Harry frowns next to him and squeezes his thigh comfortingly. Louis turns his head to look at him, giving him an easy smile that says ‘everything’s fine’ and Harry leans in and whispers, “Want to room with me?”

Louis grins, makes sure the other boys aren’t paying attention when he whispers back, “But I was so looking forward to rooming with Niall.”

Harry pauses before saying, “That could never work out, though. You both hog the covers.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re sharing beds?”
“Yeah. And I mean, I wouldn’t suggest rooming with Liam, since he doesn’t drink and you know—he’s kind of a prude.”

“Well what about Zayn?”

“There wouldn’t be enough room in the bed for you,” Harry explains sadly. “He sleeps with his bottles of hair products. They comfort him, sort of like a teddy bear.”

Louis breaks out into giggles, covering his mouth with his hand to suppress them when the other boys look over. “You’re all I’ve got left I suppose.” He says. “I guess I’ll just have to deal with your snoring.” 

Harry glares at him but there’s no heat behind it; he brushes his hand over his, tangles their fingers for a moment before letting them go. It’s quick, like so, so quick, but it leaves Louis with butterflies and a blush he knows Harry notices. “And I guess I’ll just have to deal with your weird cuddling obsession.”

Louis nods. “I apologize for that. Hopefully you can make it through the night.”

"I’ll try my best."


The rest of the weekend is spent full of failed attempts at alone time. Every time they think they can relax Harry is getting a text from Liam telling them they’ve got chorus rehearsal, or an overexcited Niall knocking on Louis’ door telling him they hooked up his Wii to Zayn’s new TV.

It’s not like they mind, really. They both like spending time with the boys, and Louis has no problem with watching them practice in the auditorium, clapping like an idiot even when all they’re doing is vocal exercises.

When they’re done with the day Niall pops up next to Harry and asks him if he’s excited about New Years. “Rooming with Louis I suppose?” He asks, elbowing his side playfully. Harry looks back at him warily.

"Er. Yeah. I was planning to."

"Figured. You two are so cute together." He says, laughing. "You’re like the class couple…’cept you know, not in the same year."

Harry laughs nervously, tries to think of something a completely non-guilty person would say in this situation but his mind is blank so he just stutters a stupid “thanks” and tells him he has to pee.

He tells Louis about it the next day at breakfast and Louis’ reaction is skeptical. “Maybe…it was just Niall’s failed attempt at humor?”

"Well-that’s what I was thinking, but really? If Niall has noticed then you know probably a million other people have as well!”

"Harry," Louis says calmly. "This school is quite tiny. I’d say a couple hundred at most."

His try at sarcasm is failed because Harry’s still obscenely upset. “Shut up! What if people find out; what if people know?”

Louis pauses eating for a moment, fork halfway to his mouth. A sudden wave of guilt rushes through him as he remembers his conversation with Eleanor a few days ago. 'It's just…you are with that sophomore a lot, the curly one.'

"Why are you making that face, Louis?"

"Hm?" Louis shoves the bit of pancake in his mouth, chewing with an innocently confused expression. "I just remembered I’ve got this big project due soon and like—I haven’t even started."

Harry blinks. “And me talking about people knowing we’re together…made you remember that how?”

Louis chews, debating in his mind if he should try and further play out his lie. “Okay, so, hypothetically.” Louis says, turning fully to face the younger boy. “Let’s just say, somebody did know about us? But it was just one person, who’s altogether…very innocent.”

"Like…the old hall monitor with a walker kind of innocent?" Harry asks, face completely puzzled. "Cause I’m sorry but there is no other person that seems innocent to me when it comes to…us.”

Louis squints his eyes, shakes his head stupidly. “Er, no. Not quite the old lady with a walker.”

"Tell me, then." Harry says, leaning forward. "Who the fuck is it?"

Louis licks his lips, looking anywhere but Harry. “Can I just start off by saying, that this was not my fault,” He starts to say, words cut off suddenly when his eyes catch a figure over Harry’s shoulder. Louis waves sheepishly, trying pathetically (and failing) to smile politely. Harry turns his head quickly to catch who he’s waving at, not even sure why he’s surprised when he finds it’s Eleanor.

"Why the fuck are you still talking to her?" Harry snaps, turning back around in his seat.

Louis tenses, realizes how much he hates jealousy when it’s not being used to rile him up. “Because we get along well, I suppose,” He clears his throat, pokes idly at his food.

Harry’s face is stony, scowl set tightly in place of his normally plump, relaxed lips. His eyebrows are so furrowed he thinks his face might get stuck like that (although really he wouldn’t mind. even when he’s angry he’s still cute.) Harry opens his mouth like he’s about to say something again, maybe threaten his life, when Louis quickly mutters, “And also…you know. She says she’s always wanted a gay best friend.”


Wow I am officially the worst updater ever. This is kind of short compared to the wait, don’t hate me, please.

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