Hollywood in the 1950s. Louis is new to Hollywood parties and meets his idol Harry Styles. They talk, drink and end up in Harry's flat.

(Basically Louis is James Dean, who meets Marlon Brando.)

****

The look he is giving himself is one of horror and annoyance. He is smoothing out his tie and frowns. "That's just not me," he mumbles quietly and sighs.

"The show business is not about being yourself, Louis. It's about being someone everybody wants," she tells him and laughs. She is standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders smoothing out the jacket he is wearing.

"But that is shit."

"You don't have a say in it, honey."

She brushes his hair and puts a little bit of gel into it.

"I don't like my hair like this," he says in a childish tone. Louis pouts into the mirror, observing the change in the face of the woman behind him, who is having her hands still in his hair.

She sighs. "Louis, do I have to speak with your agent again?"

Louis stiffens in his posture and shakes his head. "No, you don't."

"Good than." She smiles and sounds nicer now. Like she wants to pressure him. Everything is going to be fine tonight. "It's your first time being in the big spotlight of Hollywood?"

."Hm," he confirms, nodding his head.

"You're exited?"

Louis thinks about all the stars. The big names, who will be there. And between all this glamour and fame: him. He doesn't fit there. He isn't even a real star yet.

"Of course." He shudders, it's suddenly very cold in the room. In the mirror Louis sees his face changing a little bit while thinking about his idol.

His greatest idol.

The star.

Harry Styles.

He bites his lips, tries to be cool about it. He's not going to meet him personally anyway. He should not get his hopes up.

Eleanor will show him around but she is not going to torture Louis like that.

She knows, how shy he is. She knows about Louis' obsession with Harry Styles.

The god of method acting.

The student of Stella Adler.

Oh, what would Louis give for a nice chat with him. Just talking about acting, standing on stage. Old theatre times.

But that is not going to happen. Because Louis is so shy, he is going to be running away before Harry can even greet him.

Harry is not going to greet him though.

Why should he.

"Anyone there you want to meet?"

"No. I guess I will just hang out with Eleanor and maybe the crew..." Louis is a little bit distracted, because now the woman is having her hands near his crotch. She hoists his trousers and Louis squeals. Not being used to be touched there. In this way.

"You like to touch me, yeah?," he tries to make it sound like he's totally fine with that.

"It's not about you, Louis. This is my job. I have to make you look good. So you can be photographed at this event without being embraced afterwards."

"I hope so..."

"What?"

"I hope that I am not going to embarrass myself." His face reddens, he is looking down at his shoes. "I'm done, right?"

"You are all done. Ready to go and impress those stars." She laughs.

Louis only thinks that he will embarrass himself. And with him being the little goof he is, it will be in front of everyone.

****

When they enter the great hall, Louis is stuck. He can't move anymore. Eleanor notices that and takes his arm lightly to get him out of the way, so others can enter the event.

"This is not real, is it?," Louis whispers and then looks in Eleanor's direction.

"Yes it is, Lou. And you are part of it." She pauses. "We have to get going now. I think they are already waiting for us."

Louis follows her through the mess of people. They are all laughing or chatting. Some of them are holding glasses in their hands. Full of wine or champagne. Louis is a little overwhelmed by all these sounds. The whole event seems to be quite messy. Not like he expected.

He just thinks of the red carpet he was just walking on, paparazzi all around him. Barely one of them shouted his name though. He is not well known yet. Only filming his first movie.

His first real silver screen movie. Not one, in which he plays a religious figure like the easter one he filmed a while ago.

Well, he has a fan club of nuns now. It's a start, isn't it. Everybody starts like this.

Even Harry did. Well, it's Harry, he's a star now.

But Louis does not think that one day the paparazzi next to the red carpets will shout his name.

Louis is so deep in his thoughts, that he does not hear Eleanor introducing him to three old looking man with ties.

Louis shakes their hands, smiles shyly and buries his hands in his pockets.

Eleanor notices that, bumps her elbow into his arm. "Don't," she tells him, shaking her head warningly.

Louis frowns and gets his hands out again.

He doesn't know what to do with them, so he plays with his thumbs while the men talk, addressing him after a time as well.

"So you are the famous Louis Tomlinson everybody is talking about? I heard you are filming a movie?"

Louis nods. "Yes, that's right, sir. Although I wouldn't describe myself as famous."

"Well, you are, Louis. Nearly everybody talks about you here."

He is lying, Louis thinks to himself. Though just nodding thankfully in the man's direction.

"Is the role of Cal, one you like?," another man asks. He sips on his glass. Louis guesses he is drinking martini.

"Yeah, I really do like him. He is special. An outsider. No one really understands him and he's lonely."

The man nods, while Louis explains. His face is telling Louis he doesn't really understand why Louis would like to play a character like this.

"I can identify," he mumbles shyly.

"Good then. I hope you don't have such a hateful relationship towards your role like Harry does with Stanley." He laughs.

Louis smiles. Why did he have to address his idol? Louis is so nervous and mentioning Harry's name is not going to help him.

"Well, my role isn't an abusive drunkard."

The men smile at him. It seems like they are just trying to be nice.

Louis is wondering why Eleanor isn't saying anything, so he turns to her, just to notice she is gone.

"Oh, fuck," he quietly curses, looking around with a frown on his face.

He didn't pack his glasses. He doesn't like them, so why should he.

Well, a reason could be that he just has terrible eyes.

Louis' frowns deepens.

"Mister Tomlinson? Are you searching for someone or something?"

He looks to the men again and nods. "Yeah, my co-worker... Eleanor... she....," he stutters. He blushes.

He is alone. In the mass of people. With three men he doesn't even know the names of, because he didn't listen.

"I think she went to the toilets."

That long, Louis thinks to himself critically.

"Excuse me, I have to... meet my... erm..." Louis' face is redder than a tomato. He looks at the three men, trying not to make eye contact, while he stutters these sentences of nonsense.

The men nod.

And Louis knows he did something wrong. He already embarrassed himself. Just because he is not able to be alone in a hall full of big names and idols.

Hollywood is horrible, he decides as he runs around all the people, searching for Eleanor. They won't be friends after this night. Louis decides that he hates her now.

"Stupid El," he mumbles, bites his lip and lets his eyes search for the young actress.

Eleanor nearly wasn't casted, because the directors thought she was too old for the role. On the other hand the younger actresses wasn't so charming like Eleanor.

Eleanor always charmes around like it's the only thing she can do.

Time is going by and somehow Louis bumps into someone with food in their hands. And when he looks behind the man, he sees the buffet.

It is big and there are many fruits and snacks. Louis just takes a few graves and pops them into his mouth, chewing he looks around. A little bit calmer now.

It's not until he almost ate all the graves, that he feels someone having their hand on his shoulder.

He turns around to see a frowning Eleanor. "Where were you, stupid boy?"

"You are the stupid one! You left me all alone with three old men, who laughed at me!"

"They didn't," she rolls her eyes.

"I don't fit," Louis tells her whining. "Please, just let me go home. I'm better at acting than... than..."

"Than what, Lou? Acting is what you have to do here as well. See it as a role: You have to be the happy go lucky boy from Indiana, who is filming his first movie." She tries to smile.

"I am not like this. I am not made for all this."

"Well, go back then," she shrugs, taking her hand from his shoulder, looking annoyed.

"No, I don't mean it like this."

"Louis," she turns to him, now a bit more serious, "Hollywood is like this. It is all this shitty crap. It's all about image and who the big people, the famous, shiny people, want you to be. You have to be... like them."

"More submissive though."

"Well, smart mouth, yeah. You are not suppose to tell them how to behave. Of course you have to...," she searches for a word, looking to the side.

"Behave," Louis answers cooly. "You already said that."

"Louis, just be a good boy."

"Yuck, you are gross!"

She laughs. "You made it sexual. I didn't mean it like that."

Louis rolls his eyes.

They stand near the buffet for a long time. Louis occasionally eats something that caught his eye.

Eleanor tries to tell him how he should behave when big bosses are around. And Louis doesn't listen.

Why should he change. He never listened to anyone anyway.

So instead he nods and eats cheese and a small sandwich with salmon.

Eleanor and Louis sit down later on. There are photographers around and all of a sudden the hall seems more quiet. They almost seem surprised.

"What is going on?"

"I think the real big stars arrived," Eleanor shrugs. She drinks a bit of her water and looks around. "It is going to get loud now. Don't be scared, they don't shout at you, just at the stars."

"Thanks, bitch," Louis mumbles.

Eleanor grins. "Louboo, you wouldn't want that. It is horrible to get shouted at."

"So you can tell, big star?"

"You already were on the red carpet, Casanova."

"Yeah, but they didn't shout at me."

"You should be glad."

"But you just told me that-"

"Mister Styles!"

Louis hears the shout near by. It all becomes a mess after this. People shouting, cameras flashing. Some women squealing like young girls.

"St-Styles?," Louis stutters, looking at Eleanor with big blue eyes.

"Harry is here. Don't worry, baby. We will meet him. I'm going to introduce you two."

"No!"

"He wants to get to know you, darling. And that is a really big step in your carrier. He is going to be a good contact later on."

"What if I don't want that?"

"Bad than. Because you don't have a choice." Eleanor smiles at Louis reassuringly. "He won't bite. And you won't die."

"Maybe I will." Louis begins to sweat. And it's going down from here, he thinks to himself.

He looks around, seeing nothing. There are paparazzi everywhere and they seem to be all gone mad.

"Harry! Harry!"

Louis gets a bit anxious - not being used to all this shouting. He likes to shout on stage. But that is acting. Not the real world. (Well, it is his world, but...)

Eleanor stands. It is all of a sudden and Louis doesn't really understand why.

But than he sees the reason for her standing and... shuts down.

That is not possible.

That can't be his idol in front of him.

That is not Harry Styles.

The famous Harry Styles.

No.

Louis refuses to believe that.

Eleanor laughs at something the man said. The man, who isn't Harry Styles.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her left ear and nearly giggles. She seems to be so young right now, Louis thinks.

His hands are laying on his knees. Like he doesn't know what to do with them. (He really doesn't.)

He just stares and his mouth is open, but there are no words he could get himself to say. Even no Hi or something. No little greeting like a hand shake or a wave.

Gladly Harry hasn't noticed him until now.

Eleanor turns to Louis. "That's him. I told you about Louis, didn't I?"

"You could barely stop," Harry smiles, his gaze on Louis.

His dimples, oh my... Louis nearly falls over.

Why does this man has to have dimples and a wonderful smile. White teeth everywhere, a low chuckle. Why?

"Hi, I'm Harry Styles."

There is a hand. It is huge and Louis suddenly doesn't know what to do with it.

Yeah, he should just run away.

He doesn't bite, he remembers and shakes the big hand. He stares at their intertwined hands.

This is not happening right now. Louis gulps. And nods. And looks down at his shoes.

He will never fit.

And he will never live again. Because Harry touched him and Louis doesn't know how to handle all this.

"He's a bit shy. You have to know, that he always looked up to you, Harry," Eleanor smiles.

Harry frowns, then smiles at her. "A shy superstar..."

"I'm not a star," Louis mumbles quietly. Nobody hears it.

Harry looks at him again. Wants to help this poor little guy, who just sits there.

Yeah, in the first seconds of their encounter and their handshake, Harry thought he was rude. He didn't stand up when he saw Harry. He didn't smile or even look at him. He just sat there awkwardly like a little kid.

"He is new to all of this and a bit overwhelmed," Eleanor whispers near Harry's ear.

The man nods. "And you are his babysitter then?" He smirks at her.

She laughs. "But don' t tell him."

It's getting quite late and Louis orders a brandy like the nervous fool he is. He drowns the liquor in one go and doesn't even notice the looks of the other guests.

A band is now playing on the stage, he looks at, while sitting here.

Sitting here since Eleanor left him again. With some business friends.

Yeah, she is caring towards him but sometimes she seems to forget that he is there. And that he doesn't know shit about this high society things.

Louis orders another brandy, giggles, when the waiter is looking annoyed at him. "What are you looking at?" He flutters with his long dark lashes.

The man just ignores the comment and tells him quietly that he will bring him the other brandy in a minute.

It is getting longer than a minute and Louis gets more nervous. He needs more alcohol to feel maybe just a little bit save.

He is not drunk. Not at all. He could play on stage while being intoxicated. He is used to drinking and he likes it. He isn't so nervous, when there is something to drink around.

"You are searching for someone?," a deep voice next to him asks.

Louis turns his head in the direction the sexy, manly voice came from.

And looks into green eyes. Green eyes, which are observing him. Searching for something themselves.

"No." He looks down.

Harry sits down next to Louis. On the stool, on which Eleanor sat.

"No?"

"I ordered a brandy. I need my.. I shouldn't say that," he mumbles shyly.

"You need your what?"

"I'm real nervous..."

"I see."

"You see?," he whines. Doesn't know what is happening to him as he looks into Harry's eyes. He is still shy and unsure of what to say or to do.

But it is fine. Because in this short moment Harry does not seem like this man, who is ten years older than him. His idol.

Harry just seems to be a nice guy with a deep voice and big hands.

Harry chuckles. He shakes his head like he is fond of what Louis said. "I'm no monster, okay kid?"

"Okay, sir," Louis answers.

"Don't call me sir. I feel old around you anyway."

"Well, then don't call me kid. I feel stupid and young around you anyway..." Louis is brave. He doesn't know where this came from, but here he is: Talking to Harry Styles like the two of them are bickering friends.

"Feeling young isn't bad," Harry says, sinking into the stool a bit more relaxed now. He looks smiling at Louis.

Louis tries to smile back.

"You are an actor... You are doing method acting, aren't you?" Harry frowns like he remembers it hardly.

Louis nods. "I am, sir."

Harry raises a brow.

"Without the sir," Louis stutters, fiddling with his thumbs in his lap.

Harry grins. "By who?"

Louis gulps. He knows that Harry does it, being a student of Stella Adler, by Stanislawski.

"Strasberg... I was in his school... In New York."

Harry just smiles, not being offended. Louis relaxes a bit.

"That is great. Method acting is very tiring, isn't it?"

"Well, you get sentimental, but I think that is normal... I mean... it is acting after all." Louis laughs nervously.

Harry nods. "That is correct, Mister Tomlinson. It is a serious business." He says that using a funny voice and Louis just wants to die.

Harry is all he ever dreamed of.

Louis giggles, blushes and fiddles nervously with his hands. After all this years of practice. After all these years of acting on the stage and in front of so many people, he is not able to be cool in front of one man.

Louis is a bit embarrassed about that.

"I heard the role you are playing in East of Eden is Cal? I have never read the books, but isn't Cal this outsider?"

Louis nods giddily. "He is, yeah."

"You happy with that?"

"Kind of. It isn't so... hard to play him."

"No? So you need more challenging roles then?," Harry quirks a brow again, smirking.

"No, I didn't mean it like that... It's just... I'm fine." Louis' voice got higher with every word. He nods tightly. What even is he doing here? Can't he just stop for one second to behave like a child? Harry surely thinks of him as a nervous brat now.

"Your brandy, sir," the waiter says and puts down the glass with the liquor in front of a shaking Louis. He desperately needs a cigarette.

Louis thanks the man with the apron and expects him to go. But the waiter smiles at Harry. "Mister Styles, can I bring you anything to drink or to eat?"

To eat? Louis didn't even know they served food here. He would like to go for fries now or a pizza.

"Yes, I would like to have a whisky, please," Harry nods at him with a tight smile.

When the man goes away, to bring Harry his whisky, Harry rolls his eyes. "I hate these people."

"Waiters?" Louis drinks a bit of his brandy.

"No... People, who just... I don't know. Sometimes I think most people are just nice to me, because I'm famous and I really don't like this idea."

"Well, it can be also very nice... I mean, I didn't even know they served food here." Again, in one go, Louis drinks his brandy.

Harry shuts his mouth, opens it again to chuckle. "You're thirsty? I could have ordered you water or something..."

"I'm not thirsty for water, Mister Styles," Louis grins. "I like alcohol too much to order water."

"I am aware of that now," Harry mumbles, eyeing Louis with a weird expression. Louis really doesn't know what to think of this look.

He still needs a smoke, so Louis just fumbles with his jacket and finally has the two needed things in his hand: a lighter and a cigarette. His hands are shaking, while he lights the stick up. Harry watches him.

Louis sees his look and gives Harry one stick out of his great package.

"You are smoking... Very often?," Harry guesses. It is not like he is better than Louis. He is also smoking constantly. But he knows it isn't good for his health and a weird voice in his head tells him to throw Louis' cigarette away.

Because this little, precious thing, barely twenty, can't just... smoke. That doesn't fit.

That is not who Louis seems to be.

"Yeah, I'm kind of addicted."

"Me too," Harry mumbles, getting his cigarette lighten by Louis himself. Still his hands are shaking like they are on the north pole.

Harry notices that. He just wants to take Louis' hands and kiss them. That is weird though.

Louis maybe seems to be gay, but they are still in public.

"You played the immoralist, right?" Harry takes a drag, looking in front of him, while getting the smoke in his lungs to linger there, until it is getting painful.

"Yeah." Louis' voice is rougher now, he coughs lightly, but it doesn't seem to be because of the cigarette. More likely out of nervousness.

Harry nods. "Was it hard to play a gay character?" His look now challenging, but hard to read.

Does Harry mean this as a joke? Would that be the first homophobic comment Louis hears his idol say? Or does he really just want to know, asking himself this while smoking a cigarette and listening to the band, which plays quiet jazz music?

"It.. I... got... a coach for that," Louis mumbles.

And it is true. It is so ridiculous to be taught how gay men act, when you are gay yourself and not acting like this at all.

Well, Louis identifies as bisexual. He had his first time with a girl, he really likes girls, likes to flirt with them and dance with them, but he also likes men. He never told anyone and he will never tell anyone but his diary.

Because being gay in America in the year 1954 is not allowed. It is against law.

And when someone knows his carrier will just go down like one of the great waterfalls.

"A coach?" Harry repeats, sounds interested. Also a little bit annoyed, but interested.

Louis gets shaky again. Is Harry this homophobic that he has this hateful look in his eyes just thinking of gay people?

Because if that is what it is, Louis needs to go.

"Yeah... Why are you asking?" Louis replies, curses at himself now for not waiting with the alcohol.

Harry shrugs. "I would just like to know. I never played one."

"Would you like to?"

Harry laughs. "No, that is just ridiculous." He takes another drag, watching the band in front of him.

Louis' heart is hammering in his chest. "Sure," he mumbles, taken back.

All this time he had a little bit hope, that Harry would be the one accepting him. All this time he loved how Harry never told the press something that is homophobic.

But here Louis is: Almost reaching his dreams being an well-known actor. Next to him smoking sits Harry Styles, his idol. Who basically just told him to fuck off with his gayness.

Harry turns to him. "You have this sad vibe around you," he states, frowning at Louis, who is again just watching his black shoes.

He wants his god damn chucks back or he will kill someone.

Louis always knew he would never fit in.

"No, no..." Louis shakes his head, biting his tongue sadly and taking a drag of his cigarette.

Harry leans over a bit. "Love, you alright?" He smells of smoke and there is also this smell of his perfume and... his shampoo? Or maybe it is just that Harry-smell.

Louis blushes. He looks up at Harry, seeing him frown. "Yeah."

"You seem off and shy again. Did I do anything?," Harry whispers carefully.

"No, you are perfect," Louis smiles.

Well, until he notices, what he just told Harry.

"I mean... this idol perfect. This bro... perfect not that... I wasn't implying... I'm not... Oh god," he rambles, blushing more and more, while Harry just grins more and more.

"How did you mean it, darling?" His voice is rougher now. Because of the whisky and the cigarette.

Yeah, and maybe there is another reason, but Louis doesn't dare to dream. Not yet. Not at this embarrassing moment.

The band stops playing and a man clears his throat in front of a microphone. He starts talking, but Louis doesn't listen. Again. He is just to deep into his embarrassment. He wants to flee. Harry surely finds him weird by now, but that is okay. Louis thinks he is weird as well.

"You don't have to answer. I know how you meant it, Louis," Harry suddenly tells him with a small smile.

Louis is surprised that Harry doesn't listen to the speech too.

The younger actor looks at his idol, unsure but nodding.

Harry finishes his cigarette and stands up. Louis is watching him. He is watching every move Harry does.

It's wonderful how he lets the joints in his hands crack. Louis normally finds that disgusting. But when Harry Styles is doing it, it nearly charms him.

"You coming with me?," Harry asks him. He seems bored.

Louis nods. He doesn't know where they will go but who cares? As long as it is with Harry, he will go anywhere.

He stands up too and the two of them are rounding the other tables full of artists and big names. Louis doesn't see Harry's smirk as he passes all of them, no, he is just watching them all carefully. If someone is gonna say anything like "Wait, where are you going?!"

But they don't. Some of the people watch them. Some with a raised eyebrow, some of them are taking sips of their wine. And some only glance at them, looking away quickly like they really don't care.

Louis relaxes, when they turn in a small corner, where no one can see them. Harry is lighting another cigarette, now one of his own pack.

"You stole me one. You have cigarettes yourself," Louis states quietly.

"I'm a bad man, small boy. Shouldn't be seen with me," he smirks back, chuckling after.

Louis watches him taking a drag. He is standing cornered near a wall, Harry is standing before him like a lion having reached his prey.

Louis watches the smoke coming out of Harry's mouth, unconsciously opening his own to inhale it.

"You are already a chainsmoker, yeah?"

Louis nods. "May I have one, please?"

"Suddenly you know how to behave?," Harry teases, fiddling with the pack again.

"I always know, sir," Louis says quietly.

Harry coughs, cigarette in his moth, the smoke searching his way out around the stick

Louis doesn't care that the smoking makes him cough too. It is Harry's smoke. And everything about Harry is totally great.

When Louis has a glowing stick in his smaller mouth, already taken three drags, he is looking up at Harry. "So, where did you want to go with me? I mean... I'm okay with it, but I was just wondering..."

Harry watches the man on stage, seeing him as a small figure in front of many tables.

The people are applauding him and he is bowing, leaving the stage after that.

The band starts to play again.

"I don't know, but I don't like it, when others can watch me. They already do in cinema and on TV. I like privacy."

Louis just nods. He likes privacy too, but is that counting for having something in common?

"Yeah..."

Harry shrugs. "We could drink something... maybe in my flat. I have a good red wine there."

"I don't really like wine," Louis mumbles out. He needs to control himself. "I mean, yeah let's do that." He blushes.

Harry chuckles. "Kid, I can also give you a sippy cup of orange juice."

"I'm no kid, grandpa," Louis says cooly, taking a drag again.

"But you seem very small in here. Like a little baby."

Louis raises an eyebrow. "So you are allowing a baby cigarettes and red wine?"

"How old are you?"

"23."

"So you are no baby," Harry shrugs like it's the most logical thing in the world.

"Wait... what? You confuse me..." Louis shakes his head.

"So I invite you home with me. There, we will drink a glass of wine and chat about politics and history?"

"You really are a grandpa..." Louis laughs, showing of his bright smile for the maybe only second time this evening. But now Harry is really noticing it. And he is stunned. And stuck. This boy will kill him, he knows it.

He now knows that Louis likes to be with the same gender. He knows Louis is not dumb, not rude... Harry has his hopes up high that they will turn out as friends, when they are driving home to him.

****

"I like cars, you know? I like them fast... I also like motorcycles... Eleanor always tells me that it's dangerous and some day I'll be dying on one but I don't think so," Louis rambles, stroking over the seat next to him. The one, which is empty. Harry watches him, smiling.

"I liked cars as a kid and I..." Louis trails off, when he looks at Harry. "You watching me like a creep."

"I'm listening."

"You watch me like you want to eat me. And I don't think I can handle that."

"Well, maybe I want... to eat you," Harry smirks.

Louis lets himself fall back in the seat, dramatically. "I knew it! You were to nice to be true. All this time I idolised a freak. I admired you, Harry. This is over now, my life is over. I'm stuck in a fast car with a cannibal."

Harry laughs. "Calm down and save that for the camera."

"I wasn't acting, Mister Styles. I'm just me," Louis grins cheekily.

Harry just snorts fondly. "Sure."

The rest of the ride is quiet, but that is okay. They don't need to talk. It isn't awkward not to talk. Suddenly the car stops, Harry opens his door, Louis tries to open his own, but it's locked.

"Harry, the door is broken," he yells, but then Harry opens his door with a cheeky smile. "It is not."

"I still think you are weird."

"I don't mind, as long as you are not this quiet mouse."

"Quiet what?!," Louis squeaks offended, climbing out of the expensive car.

"Mouse," Harry says, imitating a mouse eating cheese afterwards.

Louis shoves him a bit, snorting. "Well then you are a giraffe."

"Ouch," Harry says, not offended at all. He leads the way to the entrance, fiddles with a key ring, finally having the right key between his fingers.

He opens the door, letting Louis in first.

It's not even a real house. It seems like a big apartment. Not even save, because it is on the ground floor. Louis thinks Harry being the hollywood icon and living in such circumstances is really naive.

"So... you like burglars and stalkers," he allows himself to mumble. Loud enough for Harry to hear.

The tall one chuckles. "No, why do you think?"

"You are living here. Unprotected and all."

"You scared?"

"No," Louis says shaking his head, crossing his arms over his small chest. "But you should be, Mister Superstar."

Harry snorts. "I'm not that famous."

"You are literally an icon."

"Just because you love me so much?"

"You are a student of Stella Adler," Louis exclaims.

"So what," Harry shrugs, his hands in his pockets, fiddling with the pack of cigarettes again.

Harry and Louis go into the living room. It is cozy and quite adorable, because it is really not big. There is a couch, a fireplace, a big book shelf, which Louis looks at carefully, reading the titles, while pinching his eyes.

"You need glasses, kid," Harry states, giving Louis a glass of red wine. "Can you even see me, when I'm this near?," he frowns skeptically.

"Yeah," Louis says. "But reading without them is quite hard. Or playing basketball."

"You play basketball?" Harry laughs amused. He sips from the glass, not leaving Louis' eyes with his own.

"I once did. When I wasn't filming a movie," he smiles.

Harry bites his tongue. Louis is so small, how does he even play?

But he doesn't ask. He just nods his head politely, listening to Louis rambling about basketball.

After a time they just sit on the couch, Harry is turning on the fire place, Louis watches his bum sneakily as he does and no one ever has to know.

Harry sits again next to Louis. His arm is laying behind Louis' head and that is really to close to be not gay, but Louis doesn't get his hopes up.

It is Harry Styles after all and you don't get your hopes up. Harry is not gay. Louis is so sure that it is like a thrust of a dagger. It hurts.

Harry makes some bad jokes, Louis laughs and the time goes by. The glasses are empty, Harry fills them again. Louis is getting a bit tipsy, but that is okay. He is safe with Harry. They are just talking about acting. About difficult scenes, about romantic scenes and a lot more.

"It is horrible to play an abusive guy, you know? You can be glad that Cal is such a cutie." Harry looks at him fondly.

Louis doesn't notice the warm expression in his eyes.

"He is not. He is a weirdo, who is throwing things around and stealing his brother the girl."

"When his brother so happens to be the biggest asshole, who ever lived."

"He isn't. Aaron is the cutie, Cal is the outsider, the misfit, I... I like him," he whispers the last part.

"That's good. It's not good playing a role you don't like."

Harry lets his hand fall near Louis' hair. Suddenly - it just kind of happens - his hand is feeling Louis' soft hair.

He lightly strokes it, doesn't notice how frozen Louis is.

Harry puts down his empty glass. "Can you refill it, love?," he asks raspy and low.

Louis nods quietly, does what he is told, gives Harry his glass back, sits back again. Harry is still scratching his hair.

Louis bites his lip, closes his eyes. "This is quite..." He stops.

"Quite what?" Harry doesn't.

"Gay..." Louis trails off cautiously.

Harry hums, not stopping. "You have anything against gays, Louis?"

"No, sir."

"Good, kid," Harry mocks a voice of an old man.

Louis giggles breathlessly.

"Than it is okay with you, when I just..." Harry leans closer. "When I just..."

Louis looks at him with wide eyes.

"Am very gay with you?"

"Are you gay?" Louis whispers, watching Harry's lips say the next words.

"No, but I kind of really would like to be gay with you."

Louis frowns.

Harry leans back again, hand leaving Louis' hair. "Sorry. The alcohol is getting to me."

"It's okay."

"No it's not," Harry mumbles sadly. "I thought that maybe you were flirting with me, but I guess that was just my imagination."

Louis' mouth is shaped like an o now. No words leaving his mouth.

Until: "Say something. Are you going to leave now?"

"I was flirting with you, but I never expected you to be flirting back. I thought you were just being nice..."

Harry smiles. "No, I was indeed flirting with you."

They sit there in silence. Harry sips his wine, Louis holds his empty glass in his hands. A bit tipsy, but not enough to just giggle over everything that just happened.

"Are you interested in me?" Louis turns around, mouth shut and waiting for Harry to answer.

Harry frowns. "Yeah. Why should I flirt with you if I wasn't?"

"I don't know... Maybe torture me or something? I'm not used to it... To the flirt thing with guys..." Louis swallows.

Harry nods. "So we can start all over? Now we both know that we are interested? Wait: Are you interested in me?" Cautiously he is looking at Louis, who is inhaling.

"Is this a joke? Do you even have to ask?"

"What? I don't get it..."

"You are perfect and I already told you that earlier. You know that I am interested."

"Yes, as an idol, but we never cleared the other thing..."

"The gay thing? I'm bisexual, Harry. I'm in fact into guys and much more into you than you could ever imagine." The last words are tiny, shy... Louis.

Harry smiles at him. "So it would be alright with you if I just... kissed you?"

Louis giggles. Nods and looks down.

Harry moves closer again. First he is just sitting close to Louis but then he is leaning in, his finger on Louis' chin to get the small one to look up.

Louis' breathing gets quick, irritated, exited.

Him and Harry are now looking deep into each others eyes, Harry gulps before he finally leans in to press his lips to Louis' soft ones.

The kiss is like a rhythm. It's not scripted. This isn't about acting or about that it has to look good on camera. It is just about them being private. Being unseen.

Louis' hands throw themselves around Harry's shoulders, pulling him nearer. Harry moans into his mouth, bites into his tongue a bit. Louis protests with pulling back.

"Don't bite my tongue, Styles, I need that for my job!"

"That sounds dirtier than it should be," Harry chuckles and presses Louis back on the couch.

Louis can feel the cotton under him and his hands are now roaming Harry's body. Surely he can't reach everything but his back and his hair, but that is alright, because now Harry is grinding a bit.

Louis whimpers, breaks the kiss to get air again. Harry kisses at his neck, grinding harder.

They do this a long time. Don't notice how long but it seems to be eternal.

At some point Harry just takes Louis with him to his bedroom. Slow kisses on the stomach, on the nipples. Louis throws Harry's shirt from the bedsheets, gets out of his jeans like Harry does.

Harry has a hard on just like him. The older one spreads Louis' legs, licks into him, while Louis whimpers and pulls on Harry's hair. His erected cock being held by the other hand.

Louis is basically in trance. Doesn't really get what is happening as Harry pushes into him. It is slow but it hurts. Louis isn't like this with guys often. It's often just a blow job or a hand job. Nothing to big. Maybe fingering.

But well, Harry is big indeed and Louis feels it.

The pain gets bearable. Harry waits for him to give him a signal that he can move and Louis is pulling at Harry's hair, while he is kissing his shoulders.

Then Harry starts to move, fucking Louis into the bedsheets at some point. Groaning, moaning and Louis can just whimper and shudder under him. His legs are now seated on Harry's shoulders, while he is holding Louis' waist to thrust deeper into the young actor.

Louis doesn't think that he can walk tomorrow. And he doesn't know how he will be able to film the kissing scene with Eleanor when his bum hurts like shit.

"Harry," Louis cries. "Please touch me!"

"Where," Harry moans.

"My cock, Harry..." Louis whimpers again, because now, finally, Harry has found his prostate.

He needs two deep and hard thrusts and Harry grabbing his dick to cum on his stomach.

Harry is near his orgasm as well, trusting hard and deep and Louis nearly gets hard a second time just as the thought comes to him that at this moment Harry is just using him for his own pleasure.

And Louis doesn't know why, but that surely turns him on a lot...

After Harry came, they are both laying on the big bed. Both with irritated breathing. They just look up to the ceiling and Louis cuddles into Harry. They don't even need a blanket, because they are still this hot from having sex.

"Am I whiny?", Louis suddenly asks.

"What?" Harry frowns. Not on this planet at the moment.

"People told me before that my acting is kinda whiny. Like they told me I sound like a kid, who wants to cry non stop..."

"That is not true at all. I saw you last year in that easter special and you were great..."

"Really?"

"Well, would I have a crush on a whiny kid?," Harry chuckles.

"I don't know, grandpa. Tell me," Louis says sassily.

Harry laughs. "You really are great. I'm sure you will be an even bigger name than me once."

"That is quite arrogant of you, Mister Styles," Louis grins.

"I know... I'm even this arrogant to think that you will stay with me after this night..." There is a small question mark after that sentence.

Louis laughs quietly. "Maybe I will."

****

Well, i tried... :/

What do you think?

Should this continue?