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Love's Gentle Spring

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"You met him on the street and went to dinner with him? Have you lost your bloody mind? He could be a serial killer for all you know!" Louis' roommate Zayn glared at him in exasperation.

"He was carrying a baby chick in his pocket. I think it's safe to say he's not a serial killer." Louis replied, distracted by the incoming texts in his phone. He and Harry had spent four hours together after their collision on the street, and still hadn't run out of things to say.

"An affinity for farm animals does not guarantee he's not crazy, Lou," Liam chimed in from the sofa.

"Not helping, Liam." Louis flipped his friend off. "And did I ask for your input? No, I didn’t. Kindly keep your additions to yourself." Louis glanced at his phone again.

H:can I call?


give me five


Louis hit send, then pushed away from the counter he'd been leaning on to pull a bottle of water from the fridge. He paused in front of the TV when he crossed the living room.


"I'm heading to bed. Do not have sex on the floor again. I'm still scarred from the last time I walked out and saw Liam….” Louis shuddered, “riding you like a hobby horse." Liam blushed, whilst Zayn threw a pillow at Louis. Having effectively derailed the conversation,  Louis quickly escaped to his room.

Once ensconced behind the door, he shed his clothes for a clean pair of joggers, then collapsed on his unmade bed. With a flick of the remote, he turned on the telly, then returned his attention to his phone.


call whenever


Louis had barely hit send before his phone rang. He settled against the pillows and let it ring twice before he answered.

“ ‘ello.”

“Hey.” Harry’s rumbling baritone had an almost airy quality. Louis sunk deeper into the pillows and let it wash over him. “In case I forgot earlier, I had a really nice time this evening.”

“Same, same.” Louis felt the stupid smile curl over his mouth, warmth suffuse his cheeks, both belying the casualness of his reply.

They talked about all the topics they’d glossed over at dinner -  families, jobs, where they’d gone to school. They bantered about music and movies, taking the piss at the other’s favorites. It wasn’t until Louis yawned wide enough to crack his jaw that he realized they’d been talking another two hours. He’d long finished his bottle of water and wanted a cuppa. He tucked the phone into his shoulder and slipped out of bed, his attention focused on Harry’s story. He opened the bedroom door, surprised to see the flickering light of the living room telly bouncing off the wall. He heard a muffled moan, and groaned under his breath.

“Hold that thought, Haz,” he whispered into the phone. He rounded the corner. “Are you guys seriously watching porn in the living roo - oh my - for fuck’s sake, why are you incapable of fucking in your damn bedroom?”