Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It’s getting late, and I
Cannot seem to find my way home tonight
Feels like I am falling down a rabbit hole
Falling for forever, wonderfully wandering alone
What would my head be like i f not for my shoulders
Or without your smile
May it follow you forever
May it never leave you
To sleep in the stone,
May we stay lost on our way home
C’mon, c’mon, with everything falling down around me
I’d like to believe in all the possibilities

&

There's singing.

Louis sensed the humans as soon as they came into the woods, but now they're within earshot and there's definitely singing.

"Isn't she lovely, isn't she wonderful, isn't she precious?"

It's getting louder as Louis approaches. The singer sounds good, better than any human Louis has ever stumbled upon. True, most of them have been babbling children, but he's still confident that this voice is more pleasant than that of most adult humans.

Once he tracks them down, he peeks between a couple of leaves, and… oh. There is a small child, but there's also a man. If Louis' never heard anyone like him, he's certainly never seen anyone like him. Maybe he's not human after all. It's been two seconds but Louis' decided there's something too... much about him. He's tall and lean, and his skin is glowing. His hair is thick and seems to grow leaves—or maybe they just got caught in his long curls during his stay in Louis' woods. His lips are pink and full, and his eyes are suspiciously bright. He should be extra careful around this one.

Then again, Louis has never been a very careful person. Which is how he finds himself hovering in front of the child, who starts squealing, "Wings! Wings!"

The tall one stops singing, which is unfortunate, and then asks, "What'd you find, Luxie?"

The girl claps, dangerously close to Louis, and yells, "Look! Fairy!"

Louis smiles and claps back. This is why he loves children—they're so willing to believe in him and in his magic, and they make excellent accomplices when it comes to pranking adults. Louis loves a good prank.

The man's hand suddenly drops to the girl's head, huge in comparison to her and to Louis, and then he ruffles her blonde hair. "Aw, look at that! You found a butterfly!"

"Oi!" Louis yells, flapping his wings so he's more at eye level with the man. The child makes an affronted noise and starts clapping at him again, but Louis' trying to make a point.

The man has started talking about kinds of butterflies, more focused on the girl than on Louis, which must mean he didn't even hear him. Right. He's too small.

Louis stretches his arms, feeling his wings and limbs grow slowly. The bigger he gets, the bigger the man's eyes get, until Louis' almost human-sized and the man's almost shrieking. He looks different now—his skin is tan and his mouth is gaping and he's so pretty he looks even less human than before. Louis' wings are fluttering even after his feet find the ground.

The man snatches the baby up and holds her on his hip with both arms, while staring at Louis and yelling, "What the fuck, how did you do that?"

Louis snorts. "By not being a butterfly."

The man is backing away slowly, but his eyes are still glued to Louis. There's a root he's about to stumble on. He might fall back on his arse. It could be hilarious, if it weren't for the girl, who's growing increasingly more agitated. Louis sighs—he's too good, really—and waves his hand to push the root back into the ground. The man squeaks and holds the girl tighter. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," Louis promises, because he doesn't. If he wanted something he would've taken it already. Right now he's just looking for some entertainment, and the man's fear is in the way. "You've got a lovely voice. What's your name?"

"Harry," he answers automatically, but then his face hardens again. "Are you joking? How did you do that trick?"

"Magic," he answers, obviously. Harry looks like he has a reply, but then nothing comes out of his mouth other than a polite noise of disbelief. Slightly offended, Louis spreads his wings in his most impressive move and rises a few inches off the ground.

The only thing Harry has to say to that is, "Fuck me, I should not have eaten those mushrooms," and then he's backing away again. Louis saves his life thirteen times by clearing the path, not that he gets any credit.

"That's probably true, you really shouldn't just eat random things in the woods," he agrees, moving forward along with the pair. "Especially not in front of your child."

"Oh, she's not mine," Harry says. He's speaking very slowly, either like he's trying to placate the dangerous predator that is Louis, or like he's a bit strange himself. "Like, she kind of is since I'm her godfather, but she's not mine mine, I'm just watching her for the weekend."

That was an excessive explanation. "So you took her to the woods?"

"I like the woods," Harry justifies, still retreating. Louis has to move a whole tree just so Harry doesn't bash his head in, and wonders if the woods really are the safest place for this maybe-human.

"You've never been in these woods. I would've remembered." That much he's sure of.

Harry quirks an eyebrow. "How? D'you like, live here?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "Obviously."

Harry gapes like it's just hitting him again. "Oh god, obviously, because I'm chatting with a hallucination."

Louis loves being a mythical creature most days, loves dicking around with other kinds and chilling in flowers and flying everywhere and controlling nature and tricking humans, but there are times when it's frustrating. "I'm not a hallucination, Harry. Or a butterfly."

"A prank then?" Harry asks, and Louis' surprised to hear curiosity under the confusion and nervousness.

"Nope. Little darling had it right," he says, flying closer to them and smiling at the child. "I'm a fairy. Or pixie, if you prefer."

"Why would I prefer pixie? Just because fairy's used as a derogatory term—oh my God," he cuts himself off. "I'm not just imagining you?"

"'Fraid not. Why would you imagine me, anyway?" He thinks Harry's a bit older than the humans who would imagine magical creatures in forests. Not that Louis' an expert on humans, particularly human aging. Time moves slightly different for his kind, and aging takes much longer.

Harry flushes pink, and with the hand not holding the child, points to Louis and kind of gestures all over. "Well, you're all—" Harry gives him a onceover, for the first time looking away from his wings. His eyes widen. "Oh God, could you, um…" His eyes are locked on Louis' body, while his huge hand covers the child's eyes. "Could you cover up maybe?"

"What?" Louis asks, confused.

"Your dick, cover up your dick," Harry says in a rush. "Not that you should feel ashamed of your body!" he corrects even faster. "It's amazing." His eyes widen. "Like, every body is amazing, not just your dick. I mean, everyone should be comfortable in their own skin—I like being naked myself—well, not right now, obviously, because—the baby. Lux."

As pleasant as it is to hear Harry talk shit, Louis feels a bit sorry for him. He flies up and picks a few soft leaves off the tree, charming them to lengthen and then clump around his hips in a makeshift cover. Harry looks just a tad calmer. For the second it takes him to panic about magic again. "Fuck, you're really real, aren't you? This is completely mad. I have to…"

He turns around, finally facing the direction he's walking in, and then picks up the pace.

Louis should let him go. Louis should even report this to Liam, should make sure the boy forgets this ever happened. He's probably had enough fun.

But Louis isn't technically obligated to, and this is the most exciting thing that has happened to him in a while, and he doesn't want this strange, confused boy to forget about him this soon.

So instead of mentioning that he's spent the past fifteen minutes just walking deeper into the woods, he saves him from stepping on a beetle. The child can't be ignored anymore; she tears off Harry's hand and starts banging on his shoulders. Harry tries to soothe her, immediately stroking her hair and saying slowly, "Shh, what's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Fairy!" Lux insists, grabbing a fistful of Harry's hair. Louis' quite pleased with this child. "Wanna play!"

"No baby, you can't play with strange naked men in the woods."

That's very sound advice, but Lux won't have it. She starts outright sobbing, the sound grating on Louis' heart. He jumps up and over Harry's head, appearing in front of them instead of chasing them. Lux instantly brightens and claps happily, making grabby hands at Louis. He comes up to Harry, closer than he's been before, and Harry halts abruptly.

His eyes are big and forest green, with what seems to be a permanent twinkle in them. Though it might be a twinkle of fear, Louis forgets all about his plans in order to stare. There's something about this man; Louis can feel that he's special, he just doesn't know why yet. Harry starts biting his bottom lip and looking down from Louis' eyes to his chest, then quickly back up.

Louis reaches up and buries his fingers in Harry's hair, marvelling at how silky and nice his curls feel. Harry's mouth drops open again, his lip slightly redder where he's been biting it, and he releases the softest sound. Then Louis picks up one of the stray leaves caught in his hair, and bends down to look at the child. "Wanna see something cool?" he asks her, smiling mischievously and waving the leaf in front of her eyes.

Her hands shoot out, trying to catch it, and she nods fiercely. Before Harry can object, Louis turns the dry leaf into a beautiful purple orchid petal. Both Harry and Lux gasp, and then she shouts happily and snatches the petal from his hand. He looks up at Harry smugly, because see, he's not just a strange naked man in the woods. He's not even a man.

And then Lux stuffs the petal into her mouth.

They both curse and force her mouth open to pull it out, which makes her so upset that Louis has to charm a dozen orchids and offer them to her. She seems happier at that, magnanimously saying pretty, thank you and picking up one flower. She doesn't try to eat this one, thank fuck.

He looks up to ask Harry if she has a favourite colour, only to find Harry staring at him. For the first time, he doesn't look suspicious at all. He looks charmed, for lack of a better word. Louis smiles at him, holding up the remaining orchids. Harry smiles back, something between cheeky and shy. "Okay, that was cool," Harry admits.

"I know. And I'm not naked anymore."

"Yeah, I know." He reaches up and pushes his hair back, trying to fix it even though he's probably just crushing the leaves. Louis could help him out with that, but maybe after he puts the child down. "We should still probably go before you turn out to be a baby-eating demon."

Lux seems to be offended by that accusation. She throws the flower at Louis and keeps her arms reaching out, demanding, "Pretty!"

"Are you going to break your baby's heart? We've bonded, Harry," Louis insists, already turning one orchid into a carnation and handing it over to a delighted Lux.

"I told you she's not mine… fairy," he completes lamely.

Louis snorts. "Louis. And I remember."

"Oh, you have a name?" Harry asks, curious again. His eyes are outrageously bright.

"Everything has a name," Louis reasons. "Even baby-eating demons."

Harry laughs much too loudly, as if he's possibly starting to believe Louis isn't a demon. "I meant that it's a French name. And you're not supposed to even be human."

Louis rolls his eyes. "It's not my real name, obviously, but a human gave it to me once and it stuck."

"Well, Louis." Harry clears his throat. "Guess I can't break her heart."

Louis' wings flutter in excitement, but other than that he's totally keeping it cool. "Guess you can't."

He's sure Harry doesn't fully trust him yet, but he seems to like him well enough. They all end up sitting on the grass, Harry and Louis next to each other watching Lux tear apart endangered flowers. "Cute, right?" Harry asks, like he's proud of his baby human.

His smile is unguarded and happy. Louis, staring at Harry’s dimples dumbly, says, "Very."

Harry blushes again, biting his lip and playing with the rips on his skintight jeans. "Can't believe I'm hanging out with a fairy."

Louis can't believe it either. "Well, you're bound to wake up soon. All my charming wit can't possibly be real."

Harry's dimples somehow deepen and he nudges Louis' shoulder. "I was referring to all the magic, but yeah, you're all right."

Louis nudges him back. "Guess you're all right too. For a human."

Harry repeats human to himself. It's not as annoying as it could've been. Probably because of Harry's all-right-ness. He's about to say something else, but then Lux starts making excited noises. "Look! Bunny! Hop hop!"

Harry raises an eyebrow, but Louis can sense that she's right. There's a rabbit creeping up behind them, probably drawn to the luscious green hay Louis' raised for them to sprawl on. Once Harry notices it too, Louis' surprised to hear him exclaim with just as much excitement, "Louis! Bunny!"

"I know, Harry," he replies, hardly as impressed. Harry actually pouts at him.

Louis groans. He turns his head to find the bunny, and then keeps steady eye contact with her, communicating that it's safe. When she hops closer to them, Lux absolutely loses her shit. Louis leans down and takes Lux's hands in his. "Little girl, can you be really, really gentle?"

Lux nods immediately, scrunching her face to show that she's serious. "Promise," she says solemnly, and then pets Louis' hand in demonstration. She's clumsy, but she's not aggressive. Louis relays as much to the bunny, who hops even closer. Lux covers her mouth dramatically, so as not to squeal and scare the bunny off.

Or maybe not. When Louis looks up again he finds Harry covering his own mouth, staring in amazement. "You okay?" Louis asks.

Harry's twinkling eyes widen. "Lewis. We're about the witness the cutest thing that's ever happened in the whole universe."

Well. Louis has his doubts. Until the moment the bunny hops directly into Lux's lap and tickles the child's nose with her furry ears. Lux pets her extremely carefully and says, "Good bunny."

"Shit," Louis agrees.

Harry giggles, and then pulls out his cellphone, presumably to take a picture. Of course, it doesn't work. He slaps it on his leg a few times, and his attempts are kind of amusing, so Louis stays silent until finally Harry directly asks him, "Why won't my phone turn on?"

Louis gestures around. "Magical forest. No technology."

"So…" Harry frowns. "That includes Instagram?"

Louis' not quite sure what that is. "Yes, Harold. It offends my enchanted kingdom."

"Oh, shove it. Just because I only moved here last month doesn't mean I don't know the forest has been here for a long time. It's well documented."

"Not this part," Louis says, fighting a shiver when the bunny's fur brushes the sole of his bare foot. "You're currently in the magical part. No one can get here uninvited."

"How d'you mean?" Harry asks, apparently confused. "I came here. We walked."

Louis shakes his head slowly. "I led you. Remember?"

Harry's smile dims slightly. "Are you actually going to murder us?"

"No, you idiot. You're free to go anytime. If you can separate these two," he adds, ignoring his heart squeezing just a little. It's just. Nice to have company that isn't a pack of angry centaurs. Not that Liam doesn't sing well, but he is less cute than this girl, even with the addition of flowers Louis made to his tail a few years ago.

Harry lets it go for a bit, lying down. His shirt rides up just a little on his tummy. It makes his voice sound even deeper when he says, "Guess I do owe you for finding Lux a best friend."

"Yeah, they like each other," Louis promises.

Harry stares at him again. "Can you talk to animals?"

"Yes," he deadpans. He can't. "Also, the bunny would've run away as soon as she stopped eating if she didn't like Lux."

Harry laughs too loudly again. "You know, I quite like dragons. If you could summon one of those, that'll be great."

Louis highly doubts Harry would survive a meeting with their dragon, but he's charmed nonetheless.

*

"Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while."

Singing again. Louis drifts up from his mushroom curiously, sliding his fingers through his hair. He recognises the voice immediately, even if it takes him a moment to remember the human's name. Harry.

He's in the same spot Louis found him at when they first met, but this time he's alone. When Louis' close enough to see him, he notes that Harry's looking around searchingly. His singing is purposeful, even though he's got no one to sing to; it's all very curious and Harry's very lovely.

Louis flies between the leaves of the closest tree and hovers behind Harry for a moment. The temptation is too great. Louis starts tugging on Harry's hair tie, making him turn around, and around again when Louis stays on his hair until the bun his hair is trapped in is loosened. It's hardly his most clever prank, but Harry's hair is soft and Louis' tiny stature is useful sometimes.

After five minutes of Harry yelling and shaking his hair out, Louis takes pity on him and finally flutters right in front of his face. Harry curses particularly loudly at the sight of him. Louis waves. Harry's big eyes appear even bigger, since he's surprised and since Louis' small. Before even making a conscious decision, Louis gets bigger, until his feet touch the ground.

It must have been enough time for Harry to get his shit together, because he looks perfectly composed as he crosses his arms and stares Louis down. Menacingly.

"You came back," Louis offers.

"Yeah," Harry agrees. He looks defensive, for some reason.

Louis clears his throat. "Has it been a year or two?"

"What?" Harry asks, brow furrowed. "No, it's been a day."

"Oh!" That's not so bad. "Where's the baby girl then?"

Harry juts out his chin and says, "As if I'd bring her back to your claws."

Louis lifts his perfectly humanoid hands and short, blunt fingernails. "Claws?"

"Yeah pal, I did some reading," Harry claims, waving a finger in Louis' general direction. "Do you know what fairies like to do?"

Magic, eating, fucking around with tree nymphs. He's got a feeling that's not what Harry thinks. "What?"

"Kidnap human children," Harry accuses finally, sticking his finger in Louis' pec and then coughing and pulling it away.

Louis tries not to laugh, really, but. He ends up cackling. "Harry. What on Earth would I do with a human child?"

"I don't know, Louis, since I'm not a creature known for its mischief and malice." He covers his mouth quickly. "That was rude. I'm sorry."

Louis just shrugs, still amused. "Sorry for disappointing you then, love. I could kidnap you if it'll make you feel better."

"I knew it was all a fan's plot," Harry says with a sigh. "How much are they paying you?"

Louis taps his chin, considering this strange situation. He might as well play along. "How much are you offering?"

Harry makes a show of checking his pockets, though his pants are so tight Louis has no idea how he even fits his hands there, let alone other essential body parts. "I've got… a hair grip, a plaster, a headband and a few rings."

Louis definitely wants the rings, but he's got a question first. "So if the child is safe at home… why did you even come here? Just to yell at me?"

Harry kind of. Blushes. He drops his arm and his stance loses the accusation. He's slightly hunched over, hand flipping his fringe, eyes sparkling. "Well, you know. Had to make sure what happened yesterday really happened."

Nope. No way Louis' letting him get away with it. "If you really thought I was a kidnapper, wouldn't it have been better if it hadn't happened?"

"Well, obviously, but." His hand moves from his hair to his lips, playing with them absentmindedly. "I wanted to see you again. To make sure I wasn't mental," he adds hastily.

There's a chance he's lying. Louis' wings flutter. "Obviously."

Harry smiles, probably knows he's been caught out. "You're pretty much harmless then?"

Well. "I love some mischief, me, but like. Stealing little things. Leading people astray. Pulling their curls. Not taking babies from their families."

Harry's eyes light up instantly, and for some reason he's touching him again, warm hand on Louis' bare shoulder. "Stealing things? D'you have a collection? Gadgets and gizmos aplenty?"

He's smiling like he's trying to clue Louis in on a joke. Louis clears his throat. "Not really? I don't have a lot of use of human things. Just turn them into other stuff."

"Oh!" Harry exclaims, fascinated. He's extremely expressive, like Louis could guess every thought in his head at any moment, and Louis doesn't know if it's a human thing or a Harry thing. "Can you turn anything into anything then?"

Louis puffs out his chest. "The source of my—me is nature, so that's mostly what I can fuck with. Plants, animals."

"That's amazing."

It's not. It's pretty limited. Not enough to really impress a human, but too much to ever share with one. But Harry's easily amazed and Louis finds himself wanting it to go on. "What's your favourite colour?"

Harry ponders it like it's the most important question he's ever been asked. Eventually he looks Louis in the eye and says, "Blue, I think."

Louis hums and points down, growing Harry a blue hydrangea. Harry beams at him, delighted, and then gives him a hug. It's a strange moment, given that Louis' usually too small for hugging purposes, and that Harry's wearing clothes. Louis finds himself wanting it to go on. "Green thumb superpower then, eh?" Harry asks once he lets him go.

Louis huffs. What the fuck does Harry have with his hands? He's got perfectly normal thumbs. "Sure."

"Could you—maybe grow some more?" He asks it like he's trying to contain his enthusiasm, but he's already halfway to the ground and picking the hydrangea. "So we can make a flower crown?"

Louis sits down in front of him, cracking his knuckles. "For your child?"

"No. Like, yeah, of course." He ducks his head, a devastating curtain of curls flopping over his forehead. He looks up at Louis hopefully. "But also for me."

Louis might be beaming too, already working on some roses.

Harry's utterly ridiculous, but he takes flower crown-making very seriously. Firstly, he asks Louis to cover up his crotch again. Then he asks Louis to grow a dozen different kinds of flowers, then has a selection process that takes ages because the colour combination has to be "just right", until finally he makes a devastated sound and blinks up at Louis. "When I get them they're with fake flowers. These are gonna rip apart, Lou."

A gust of wind sweeps Louis' hair—or maybe it was his wings again. "Don't worry, I'll charm them to be extra durable."

"Well, they don't need to be extra," Harry says, but his smile is cheeky. "I can be gentle."

Louis looks directly at Harry's massive hands and quirks a brow. He's only known Harry for two days but he's already deduced he's the clumsiest human in the whole world. "I'm sure you can, but we can still play it safe."

He circles his hand around the lump of flowers and gives them strength, and an extra shine. As predicted, Harry smiles and touches them extremely gently. Louis' rather pleased. "Now what?"

Harry wets his bottom lip in concentration. "We need like, a wire and some glue. Unless you—magic?"

Louis' not used to doing this for others' entertainment, never really performed magic for the sake of performing. But Harry's candid and bright-eyed and funny, and when Louis twines some vines together with the prettiest flowers to make a crown, Harry stares awestruck. Louis can't get enough of Harry's attention on him.

"That's nice," Harry finally announces.

"Nice?" Louis sputters, waving the crown around. "This is the most spectacular flower crown you've ever gotten!"

Harry shrugs, but he can't seem to stop the grin splitting his face. "I dunno, could do with some wires."

Unbelievable. Not only is it apparently a human custom to give flower crowns, they give each other subpar flower crowns. Louis grows some vines to prick Harry's hands, which were resting on the ground. Harry squeaks and lifts both of his arms, leading to him crashing down on his back like an idiot. Louis uses his immediate advantage and crawls over him, putting the most spectacular flower crown over his face rather than his head.

Harry kind of blinks at him, face surrounded by flowers. "I guess it's nicer than nice," Harry admits after maybe ten years. His voice sounds even deeper than usual, and Louis wonders if it's because he's lying down or because Louis' splayed his hand over Harry's sternum.

"Then I'm keeping it," Louis decides, settling more comfortably over Harry's thigh and grabbing the crown. He puts it on his own head in triumph, then instinctively smooths over Harry's hair. He'd do it himself if his hands weren't spread in shock right now.

Harry bites his lip. "Looks pretty."

"Of course," Louis huffs, adjusting the crown so it's just a bit crooked. "It's fabulous."

He's not sure why he's taking this so personally, but Harry seems eager to play along. "Does it make you flower royalty?"

Louis considers it. "Yes. I'm the ruler of the magic forest."

Somewhere in the distance, Liam's probably cackling. Whatever. To this human, Louis' the most fantastical magical creature these woods have to offer. Harry's arms start going up and up over his head, like he's surrendering. Or stretching his muscles. "Can I be a duke then? Or a prince?"

"Would that involve making another crown?" Louis asks, not at all hopeful.

Harry nods, hair bouncing over his biceps.

Louis clicks his tongue. "Will it have to be in the boring way again?"

"Excuse me, Louis, but seeing as I'm the expert here, that's offensive." He's pouting. Louis has to consciously stop himself from floating off his body.

He climbs to his feet, feels oddly out of sorts not touching Harry, wonders why they've been touching so much in the first place, and then reaches out his hand. "C'mon lad. We're gonna do it the Louis way."

Harry takes his hand and gets up, nearly colliding with him head-on. He really is ungraceful. And far too tall.

Harry adjusts himself and then rolls up his sleeves. "Alright, let's adventure!"

He's also really endearing.

*

"Stop right now," Liam insists, eyes zeroed in on Louis from the ground.

Louis doesn't even blink. He knows Liam's secretly amused by this. "Please, he's a twat, you know it and I know it."

Liam's mouth totally twitches. Louis hadn't exactly expected to get caught in the act of trapping Ben in a maze of thorny bushes, but he knows Liam will let him get away with this. Even when he says, "Louis, I'm their leader, I can't just let you get away with this."

"C'mon, Li, I'll let him out in a bit. A little prank won't kill him." Louis widens his eyes innocently. There's that twitch again. Louis hopes Liam will break soon, since they're both missing the show. Watching Ben gallop at full speed and then screech to a halt and curse when a new bush mysteriously appears five feet from him is hilarious.

"What did he even do to you?" Liam asks, instead of encouraging him to continue.

Louis huffs. "I was on my way to your camp and heard him talking shit. He's worse than that imp Grimmy, I swear."

It's not really true—Grimmy is by far Louis' least favourite resident here—but Liam wouldn't have agreed with Louis anyway. His face slips into that pinched expression that says "as one of the four Fosters I'm obligated to defend all the creatures who live here, even abnormally tall arseholes who are in an open conflict with my best fairy friend". Before he gets the actual speech, Louis adds, "He was talking shit about you."

Liam hesitates. Louis isn't even lying this time, the smarmy bastard was being disrespectful, but he doesn't blame Liam for not trusting him. He is a fairy, and Ben is a member of Liam's clan. Unfortunately.

Before Liam is forced to make a tough call, Louis' wholly distracted in a matter of seconds. There's a tug he feels at the edge of his magic, warming up his fingertips. It's quite familiar, by now.

All the excitement that dissipated during the righteous debate with Liam returns in full force. Louis' got a visitor.

He jumps off the branch and with a wave of his hand clears the thorns he put along the path to Liam's camp. "I know you would've agreed with me eventually, but out of respect and admiration, I'll stop fucking around now."

Liam gapes at him in confusion. It's not like him to give up so easily, but another adventure awaits. "Uh, thanks, I guess," Liam says.

Louis salutes and flies away, confident Liam won't tell anyone what he'd done. He's a good lad.

Much like Harry the human, who's standing in the clearing just outside the border between the natural and the magical woods.

"Why do you always sing?" Louis asks curiously, perched on a branch over Harry's head. He might have been spying on him for a bit, listening to him sing three different songs.

It's Harry's sixth visit, and Louis still has no idea why each one starts with a random song.

Harry jumps and looks up at Louis. His eyes instantly slide down to Louis' lap, so Louis grows bigger and grabs some leaves to cover himself before Harry has to ask him to. It's always an awkward moment. "You dick, how long have you been there?" Harry calls out.

"Only forever," Louis shouts back, smiling when Harry pouts.

"Well come down then, give us a hug," Harry demands.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Come up instead."

He didn't actually expect Harry to run to the tree. Foolish mistake; Harry's nothing if not eager, daring or obedient. Louis' got him all figured out. "On my way!"

Louis sneakily makes the trunk a bit more accessible, for a wrong-footed idiot like Harry. (He all but crafts stairs out of the bark.) When Harry finally reaches his branch, leaves are littering his hair and he's a bit sweaty, but he flexes his muscles like he feels accomplished. "Proud of you, young human," Louis compliments him.

"I'm twenty," Harry points out, but otherwise doesn't react at all to Louis being condescending—he just throws his arms around him for their customary hug. Louis isn't sure what's more unsettling, the fact they have a customary hug, or Harry's body nearly flattening him to the branch and causing both of them to fall down. If Louis' wings weren't acting up again they probably would have died. He's done a lot of things to humans, but he's not quite ready for murder.

He should do it now. Should find Liam or another Foster, should end whatever this is. He's already done too much—six times—to risk the exposure of the magical territory of this forest and everyone in it. This is hardly like a few thorns.

But he doesn't.

Louis makes sure Harry's tucked safely between the tree trunk and Louis' body, their legs dangling over either side of the branch. "It's not that big," Harry comments, voice low.

Louis clears his throat, then remembers his silly leaves cover. "What isn't?"

"These woods." He gestures down. Their branch isn't that tall, but it provides a decent view of the forest. "I mean, even with secret fairy colonies, from here it doesn't look that big."

Louis looks down too. The woods look infinite to him. "It's because you're not seeing how deep it is," Louis reasons.

Harry looks back at him. "How d'you mean?"

"I told you, if you go on the right path it pretty much doesn't end."

"Hmm." He narrows his eyes. "Maybe you're seeing it that way because you're all fairy-sized most of the time?"

Louis huffs. "First of all, seeing as I'm a fairy, every size of me is fairy-sized. Secondly, I'm 5'9. Thirdly, no, there's a whole world right here. There's a waterfall, and this stone formation, and other—things." Shouldn't really tell a human all this. He's going to get his arse kicked.

Harry isn't one to let things go, though. "Other fairies?"

Louis shakes his head. "Just me around here."

Harry's stare becomes fifty percent more intense, and then he's holding Louis' hand. "Really, mate? The websites didn't say—I mean, I didn't know if your kind was like, territorial or if you travel in packs or whatnot."

Louis snorts and turns Harry's hand over so he can lace their fingers together. It feels like the thing to do. "It's not about that, really. I just wanted to go exploring by myself. It's not sad, just a bit boring sometimes."

Maybe, very rarely, it does get a bit lonely. After growing up with a million siblings, it's natural that sometimes he misses having other fairies around. But it's been ages since he left his family, really, and he doesn't regret it. He knew he had to, knew it wasn't enough for him. He loves finding new places and kinds, always believed in going big no matter what he did. Plus, the farther he gets from other fairies, the more powerful his magic becomes.

Harry doesn't seem convinced. He's still staring, and for once, Louis doesn't want his knowing eyes on him. Fortunately, since Harry is a good person, instead of saying something disgustingly sympathetic he just leans forward so their foreheads are touching. "You can do magic. How can you ever be bored? You can build a treehouse in two seconds. You can become small enough to swim in flowers, or—or! Grow giant flowers and swim in those. You can talk to adorable bunnies, for fuck's sake. You can grow a beard and chest hair."

Louis isn't completely sure how that's related, but he laughs for Harry's benefit. "I guess magic is a perk."

Harry smiles and leans back. Louis feels slightly colder. "You've got this spell on me, I don't know what to believe," Harry informs him with a melody.

Louis pokes his cheek. "You never answered my question."

Harry swings his legs so their feet brush together. He's started showing up barefoot, like a normal person. Louis is proud of his young human. "What question? How I keep my hair so luscious? It's quite simple, really—"

"No, idiot," he cuts him off, kicking at his ankle. "Why are you always singing?"

"Because…" He mulls it over, like he's thrown by Louis' question. Harry's a very thoughtful person. "Because I like it. But also to, like. Summon you."

Louis wasn't aware that he needed summoning. "What? D'you read that on your websites?"

"Nope, just figured. Since you always show up when I sing."

He just can't tell Harry that he senses when anyone steps in his forest, that he doesn't require a special call. Firstly, because it's hilarious that he thinks that, and secondly, it might make him stop singing. "Makes sense," he says, noncommittal. Definitely not mentioning his free will and stuff.

Harry's eyes light up suddenly. "Can you sing? Do you have any fairy songs?"

"Sort of, but you wouldn't understand them."

Harry pokes him. "Louis." He pokes him again. "Lou." Another. "Lou." Is this tickling? "You have to sing for me, c'mon."

"No I don't," he says, batting Harry's hands away. Of course, Harry just goes harder for Louis' ribs, nearly flattening him to the branch. His hands are big and warm and feel kind of odd, not an ounce of magic in them. It's intriguing.

Louis' so focused on them that he falls from the fucking tree.

There's a disorienting moment before Louis' wings automatically snap and carry him up, where Harry actually yelps in panic. Louis worries Harry might jump after him, considerate person that he is. Like when he chased Louis around a few trees and then apologised to a fawn for nearly flattening her, despite the fact the fawn couldn't understand him.

When his arse is safely back on the branch, Harry looks at him without even a hint of a smile. Highly unusual. Louis puts a reassuring hand on his knee and says, "All right?"

"I could've killed you!"

Louis blinks. He considers giving Harry shit, but he looks actually distraught. "You really couldn't have. I'm perfectly fine, look, I'll sing for you."

The corners of Harry's mouth are quirking up, meaning Louis' in the right direction. He starts singing the first thing that comes to his mind—a dirty rhyme Liam taught him so he wouldn't feel too excluded when hanging out with his angry centaur buddies. Since Harry doesn't understand the language, to him it probably sounds like deep poetry.

He actually seems moved. He looks at Louis with his eyes wide and mouth slack, his head unconsciously bent forward. All the tickling and the flying somehow brought them closer together than they were sat before, and Louis' face feels hot. He stops singing abruptly, fixing his fringe. Harry just grins at him. "Louis."

"What?" Louis asks, something between defensive and embarrassed.

Harry covers Louis' hand with his own. "You sound lovely."

Louis shrugs immediately. His best friends are nymphs and elves (and now a deep-voiced human); he's really not that impressive. "Whatever. Want something really brilliant?"

"Is it you singing again?" Harry asks, batting his lashes.

Louis shuffles even closer to Harry, hooking their ankles together and pressing his hands down to the branch. Harry drops the coy act and just looks kind of stunned, eyes darting all over Louis' face and settling somewhere around his mouth. Louis closes his eyes.

And then their tree is growing, slowly becoming taller and taller, until Harry's hand is squeezing his too tightly and Louis stops. They're overlooking more of the woods now, can spot the stream and the more hospitable patches and Liam's Northern camp, but beyond that, Louis suddenly realises he can see the human territory. Harry's house, probably.

For some reason, he didn't think it was this close. It seems absurd that Harry's been right there all along, that Harry's right there when he's not right here. Or maybe what's absurd is that he's grown quite attached quite quickly to a human idiot.

"Whoa," Harry mumbles, like he's having life-altering revelations of his own. Or maybe he just has a fear of heights. "This is your world then?"

Maybe not. Louis looks over from the green of the treetops to the green of Harry's eyes and nods. "Told you it's deeper."

"And now I guess I'm a part of that world," Harry adds. There's a smirk growing on his face, like Louis' missing a joke again. Whatever, let Harry be a weirdo.

"Guess you are."

*

It's Harry's idea to follow the stream. He doesn't even wait for Louis to comment on his singing when he first arrives, just grabs both his hands and says, "I wanna explore."

Even though he's been coming here more and more often, in what some might call… bonding, they've mostly been keeping to the original clearing and chatting. It was the only excuse Louis had to not report him—knowing he's risking only himself, that really, he's protecting the forest by keeping Harry on the human side.

For some reason, the same reason as always, he doesn't shut him down. "Explore what?"

"You mentioned a magic waterfall once," Harry reminds him, a determined glint in his eyes. "How come you've never taken me there?"

Because I can't. Because I've taken you too far as it is. Because this is stupid. Because you could destroy me. "I didn't think humans liked water that much."

Harry looks adorably confused. "Why? I mean, we're not cats."

Louis smirks and ruffles Harry's soft curls. "Sure you're not?"

He definitely preens like one when Louis touches him. "Maybe part-cat. But as a species, sure, we can't breathe in it and we have to take off our clothes, but I love swimming."

Oh. Now things are more interesting. Not that he's particularly eager to see Harry naked, but since Louis always is, he figures it's about time they even out. Liam might have a heart attack if he ever found out, but Louis figures that since he's the one guiding Harry and controlling what he's exposed to, it's still okay. He'll make sure Harry never finds another creature here and put them at risk.

Nothing feels as important as putting a smile on Harry's face. (Maybe that's a more critical problem than the morality thing. Louis doesn't think about it too hard.) "Follow me."

Harry's a bit strange today. He's not babbling as usual, doesn't look around as often. It's not that Louis isn't enough of a talker to fill the silence, but he's grown used to hearing Harry's wild laugh after every joke, even his less than hilarious ones. And though he keeps detouring and making the road to the pond longer, Harry doesn't open up.

He's slightly cheerier when they reach the slope close to the waterfall and Louis charms them wooden sleds. Of course, Harry steers himself directly over a rock and falls on his arse, nearly rolling to his death, so they both end up squeezed into Louis' sled. Louis' at the front to steer, so Harry's long legs bracket him in and he hugs him close in a comforting touch. When they start gaining speed he's howling in joy, so Louis definitely pats himself on the back.

"Oh wow," Harry says, finally properly amazed when they reach the waterfall. "Look at that."

It's only twice as tall as Harry himself, but there's something naturally awe-inspiring about waterfalls and peaceful ponds in the middle of luscious woods. Harry's smile brightens the more he looks at it. Louis' smile brightens the more he looks at him. "Look at that."

Harry nudges Louis' hip with his own and says, "Race you."

Before Louis can ask, Harry takes off towards the pond. Fuck no, there's no way he's losing. He spreads his wings, soaring right by Harry and yelling, "Smart move, human—"

Suddenly there's a hand wrapped around his ankle, and Louis yells as he's being yanked back midair. He looks back to see Harry's absolutely devious smile and tries to kick him off, but Harry just giggles, his huge hand offending Louis' tiny ankle. Louis folds his wings and uses the momentum to roll on the grass and release himself from Harry. He's going to sprint for it.

Of course he wins. Even if he weren't more coordinated than Harry, Harry has to waste time taking off all his clothes just to jump in after Louis. When they both resurface, they're breathless and laughing. Louis pushes his hair out of his eyes and then snorts when he sees Harry's fingers completely tangled in his.

His breath stutters when Harry finally stands up. He's. Well. Usually he's dressed in tight jeans and a half-undone buttoned shirt, so there's not much of a surprise, but seeing his abs and long limbs and dick and stunningly broad shoulders all wet is a different experience altogether.

The water gets a bit hotter, definitely completely unrelated to Louis. His wings flutter a little, making Louis wonder… "Turn around."

Harry just does, no hesitation. It's not surprising, but maybe it should be.

What's really astounding is his back, broad and wet and wingless. That definitely shouldn't be surprising, but it really is. He drifts closer to Harry, running his hands over Harry's spine, from his neck to his bum. He can feel Harry shuddering, his skin soft under Louis' fingers. "What does it feel like?"

Harry's head tilts to the side, and Louis finds himself sliding his fingers up automatically, playing over Harry's shoulders and throat and hair. "Nice," Harry answers. His shivering turns into shaking, into shaking Louis off, and then he's sinking all the way to his chin and swimming away, closer to the waterfall. "Why?"

Louis swims after him, still mesmerised by Harry's back muscles rippling in the water. "It's all exposed! No wings."

Harry stops abruptly, turning around to face him. "Isn't the water dangerous to your wings? Like a butterfly?"

"No, there's a protection—I'm not a butterfly!" He claps his hands in the water and charms a wave large enough to shove Harry back and straight under the waterfall.

Harry flops dramatically, limbs flailing. When he finally resurfaces, he shakes his hair violently, spraying water everywhere. Louis stares, amused. "I take it back, you're more dog than cat."

Harry smiles good-naturedly. "Really? My friends say I look like Tarzan."

"What's that?" Louis asks, swimming back and away from the waterfall so he could actually hear Harry. Expectedly, Harry follows.

"Right, sorry. Human movie. Nevermind."

"No, tell me," Louis insists, splashing Harry a little.

Harry splashes him back. "It's a story about a human baby raised by apes. So he has long hair and big arms."

He flips his fringe and flexes his biceps in a way that distracts Louis for a moment from the improbability of what he just said. "Then he gets killed?"

"No! He finds a human and falls in love."

Louis' throat feels tight all of a sudden. He shakes his head. "But how would they even communicate?"

"She teaches him, kind of." He nibbles on his pink lower lip in thought. "But the apes speak in English too."

Louis just raises an eyebrow.

"Don't shit on one of my favourite movies, Louis," Harry tuts, obviously trying not to laugh. "How do you know English, then?"

"I don't," he replies, smiling in victory.

Harry does his slow blink thing. "Huh?"

"It's a magic thing. You hear me in the way you can understand me. I never actually learnt English, that would be absurd."

Harry blinks extra slow. Louis tries to think of a better explanation, but then Harry's only question is, "Are you saying Tarzan had magic too?"

Louis splashes him and kicks his legs to drift away. Harry grabs his ankle again, slowing him down like he expects a real answer. Or maybe not, since there's a dirty grin on his face. "I really don't know him," Louis reasons. "But you don't look like an apeman, anyway. More like a merman."

Harry beams unexpectedly, the kind of glinting smile that makes Louis' heart jump, and then he sinks back in the water. When he pops up again, Louis' heart just seizes. Harry throws his head back so theatrically that his hair whips and douses Louis with water. His neck is stretched and his back is arched so his chest is all broad and Louis' stupid wings are fluttering so hard he's causing a small whirlpool behind him.

Harry's smile is blinding when he finally turns back to Louis. "That move is from a film about a mermaid."

He's probably still staring like an idiot. "What happens in that one?"

"She's the mermaid princess, yeah? But she's always been obsessed with human stuff, and then one day she falls for this human sailor prince, and then she strikes a bargain to give up her mermaidenhood to be with him."

Louis would really like to point out how ridiculous that would be—to give up who you are just to be with a sailor prince—but Harry's flopping around happily and seems excited to tell Louis about this stuff. The whole point of this was to lighten Harry's mood. "I'm guessing Tarzan does the same?"

"Nope. His human stays with him in the forest." He frowns. "Though to be fair, both movies perpetuate the woman abandoning her life to be with the man, so I'm not sure about the message. But. It has great songs."

Louis smacks his own forehead. "Why do you even like those movies?"

Harry shrugs. "I like the music, and the happy endings. And the singing animals."

"Do they sing in English too?" Louis asks, smirking.

"Of course. But like, you sing and then birds start braiding your hair, mice making you dresses, chameleons playing chess with you. Can you imagine?"

Louis' helplessly endeared. So he splashes him right in the face. Harry sputters angrily, and then pounces on Louis, trying to dunk him underwater. He actually manages it, since Louis couldn't have predicted feeling Harry's whole body pressed up against his side.

He flails, trying to at least break Harry's arm, if not kill him. When Harry finally lets up, Louis shoots out of the water, probably a lot less attractively than Harry did earlier. He splashes Harry violently again, and before Harry can retaliate, he swims around him and latches onto his back. Harry freezes, which is very convenient for mounting purposes.

He wraps his arms around Harry's broad shoulders and buries his nose in his wet hair, legs tangling around Harry's waist until he's clinging completely. They've never been quite this close quite this naked, but it feels oddly natural, their bodies fitting together.

Harry accepts this reality without a word, just starts swimming with Louis attached to him. Harry's back, strong and wingless, moves subtly under Louis' chest, slippery under Louis' cock. It's nice, the slow motions and cool water relaxing Louis for once. Enough that he's not really troubled by the realisation that he's attracted to Harry.

He closes his eyes and lets Harry carry him around for a long time, only jolted back to reality when Harry murmurs, "Lou."

It sounds deeper than usual, either because of their close proximity or because there's water in Louis' ears. He detaches his mouth from Harry's neck to ask what's up, then realises his mouth has been kissing Harry's neck for some undefinable reason.

He pulls his head back, hands slipping over Harry's chest, and the question that comes out of his mouth is, "Are you cold?"

"What?" Harry asks, sounding kind of dazed. Louis flutters his fingers over Harry's obviously hard nipples, and Harry's voice sounds even odder when he says quickly, "Yeah, freezing."

Louis hums and lets go of Harry completely, treading water behind him instead of being all over him. Harry instantly ducks underwater, resurfacing a few feet away from Louis and with his back to him. Louis claps his hands and wiggles his fingers until the water around him heats up steadily. He knows it reaches Harry by the soft "oh my God" he hears, and he smirks to himself.

"Better?" he asks, swimming closer. Harry's leaning on the rocks at the edge of the pond, so Louis can only stare at his back and nudge his shoulder.

"So nice. Like a jacuzzi," Harry rumbles. His eyes flutter closed, waterdrops clinging to his lashes. Louis flaps his wings to create ripples that lap at Harry's body pleasantly. A small smile spreads on Harry's face. He's a beautiful person to pamper. "Just what I needed."

"Needed?" Louis asks, leaning on the rocks next to Harry and elbowing him.

"Don't worry about it. Just human stuff." His voice is still slow and content, so Louis doesn't feel the need to drop the subject.

"C'mon, Hazza. What's up with you today?"

Harry sighs. It takes him a while to answer, longer than his slow speaking can account for. "It's just been a rough week, I guess. There's a lot of pressure on me right now from the—people I worked for. They want me to do something I really don't want to do yet, and I guess I just got a bit sad."

Louis frowns for a moment. Because of Harry's endless curiosity about Louis, they mostly discuss him and magical stuff when they're together; it's not often that he hears about Harry's life out of the forest. He can't imagine Harry being anything less than a force of nature. And he's the expert on those. "So the woods make you happier?" he asks, hesitant.

Harry doesn't open his eyes, just bites his lip. "Yeah, they're… easy to talk to. Pretty fun to chill with."

He looks pretty chilled now. Louis gets an epic idea. He looks up and starts humming, quieter than Harry can hear. Then, he says, "Harry, sing."

Harry just does. "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide—what—"

His eyes flutter open, and then he laughs in delight when he realises Louis' called a few hummingbirds over. They're not actually braiding his hair, since that's impossible, but they are making it flap about with their long beaks. Harry looks at Louis with a smile splitting his face, dimples out and eyes shiny, and just by making him this happy Louis feels happier than he has in a while.

Harry resumes singing and Louis just touches his arm gently. More awkward than a mermaid, less tough than an apeman, perfectly human. Louis might like him a bit too much.

*

They have a ritual going on. Louis mostly always sneaks up on Harry, trying to think of new ways to startle him whenever Harry sets foot in the forest. He ranges from throwing apples at him to changing his hair colour (both disappointingly welcome by Harry).

So when Louis runs to Harry and tackles him straight to the ground, it's because he absolutely must.

"Oh my god," Harry squeals, throwing his arms out to protect himself.

Louis pays him no mind, darting in close and sitting on top of him because he can still smell the thing that triggered his attack. Something like vanilla and coconut and… "Aha!" It's in Harry's hands. He makes a grab for it, but Harry only holds the bag tighter. Only out of concern for the potential content of it, Louis backs off. "It smells so organic!"

Harry still looks a bit overwhelmed by being thrown to the ground, but he smiles wide at that. "I thought you might like that."

Louis fucking loves food. Harry mentioned that he loved cooking once, but Louis' never benefitted from it. Until now, apparently. "You do love me," he decides.

Harry smiles brightly. "'Course. They're just vanilla cookies, though. And you like me too."

"We'll see after you give me one."

His hold on the bag tightens and his mouth turns down. "Not if you don't like me."

Please. Louis puts one hand on his heart and another on Harry's. "I adore you."

It's just a random thing. Something they say occasionally, since Harry's the most affectionate creature Louis' ever encountered, and Louis' come to terms with liking him almost as soon as he met him. Surprising, maybe. Gratifying, if it gets him cookies.

Which Harry finally releases. Louis snatches the bag from him and rolls off his hips, ends up cross-legged next to him. Before Harry can mention it, Louis puts the bag over his crotch and then digs in. All the excitement fades in a second. "Harry. You don't love me at all."

Harry slaps a hand on his chest, offended. "How dare you?"

Louis holds up one of the cookies extremely carefully. It's about the size of the pad of his thumb. "Why did you bring me the world's tiniest sweets?"

"Because I'm a genius, obviously. Smaller cookies means more cookies."

He looks incredibly smug, still lying flat on his back with his pretty hair tousled in the grass. It's a shame he's such an idiot. "But I'd need to shove ten in my mouth just to get the taste. How is that satisfying?"

Harry throws his arms out and slowly closes the distance between his hands. "I made them fairy-sized! So you can get smaller and they'd be proper. Or you get even smaller and they'd be huge. I used to be a baker, you know."

Shit. Harry does love him. There's just one problem.

Louis' been ignoring it for a while. It's not like he had to deal with it, and he's never been one to address his issues before he absolutely had to. Now that there are sweets at stake, though, Louis' afraid he needs to come clean. Face the facts.

"I sort of can't," he whispers, crackling the bag in the process.

Unfortunately, Harry still heard him. "It's all organic products, I promise, vanilla extract and fruit and stuff you could grow yourself."

"No, I mean. That's lovely, truly, I just can't get small."

Harry sits up instantly, blinking at Louis. "Seriously?"

Louis would really rather be in any other conversation. He began suspecting this problem a couple of weeks ago, when he heard Harry's song greeting and grew human-sized without making a conscious decision to do so. Then he noticed he couldn't shrink as small as he used to. Now he can't do it at all. It's humiliating.

"Is there something wrong? Are you sick or summat?" Harry asks, spreading his huge hand on Louis' forehead for some reason. "I could get help really fast."

He knocks his wrist away. "I don't get sick."

"Oh, I know!" Harry exclaims, suddenly excited. "You're getting bigger because I believe in you. That's how it goes with magical beings in movies."

He looks so proud of himself, either for figuring it out or for actively making Louis grow. And Louis thinks about how happy he seems, how he's inexplicably fond of Louis, how he believes in him blindly and fearlessly.

And Louis knows Harry's wrong.

He knows because Harry's touching him and looking at him like he always does, and even if Louis wanted to shrink right now his magic won't let him. Because he wants Harry to see him this big. Just like he found himself living in the human timestream instead of skipping years absentmindedly, or how he lost the will to go exploring farther. There are too many feelings in him now, way more than he's used to, and they seem to be directing his magic.

Harry is a force of nature, even if he doesn't believe it himself. He's magnetic and charming and so special, could pull anyone to him like he's stringing vines around them. Louis feels like he can tell Harry anything; the boy is as sensitive as only a human can be.

But he can't tell him all that.

So he says, "Maybe," and then they stack up the (fucking delicious) tiny cookies and devour them in clumps. It's one of the most confusing experiences of his life.

*

"Whoa," Harry mutters, pushing his hair out of his face. It's a horrible, distracting habit of his. "You're glowing."

"What?" Louis asks, confused and still looking at Harry's hands. Even with this whole inconvenient growth spurt, Louis' hands aren't quite as big as Harry's.

Harry clears his throat awkwardly, and when Louis looks up he finds him flustered. "I mean, not you you. Not that you don't! Like, you're magic, there's lots of glowing there. But I meant, like, when you made that path, one of your tattoos glowed."

Louis doesn't know what about that was more confusing. He decides on, "My what?"

"Your tattoos," Harry repeats, like Louis' being slow. "This one," he adds, pointing at his bicep. Louis looks at his own skin and suddenly starts laughing.

"Harry, they're not tattoos." At Harry's dubious expression, Louis rolls his eyes. "They're runes. For all sorts of things."

That seems to have effectively blown Harry's mind. He takes a small step closer and runs his gaze all over Louis' body, making him feel self-conscious. "Runes? Are you serious?"

"No, Harold, I actually clipped my wings, left the magic forest and strolled into the nearest tattoo studio."

At least by now Harry knows when Louis' being sarcastic. Which is a bit sad, actually. Not that long ago Louis managed to convince Harry that the magic flowers only grow because he pisses magic urine on them. "Well, I dunno!" he says defensively. "Could be a magic tattoo studio or summat. And they never glowed before." He pokes Louis' Direction rune, the one that glowed earlier.

Louis frowns down on it. Harry's right, they're definitely not supposed to glow by now. He's really not sure how he feels about his magic becoming more and more obvious around Harry. It's like it has a mind of its own lately.

For the sake of the argument, Louis huffs at Harry. "Why would I go to a tattoo artist when I could just..." He stretches his arms, looking for free space among the runes already on him.

There, his right wrist. With quick strokes of his left index finger, he draws Connection on himself, which looks like a serpent biting its own tail. It glows red for a moment, but then his body accepts the well-executed charm and it turns into something else—rope coiling around his wrist, shaping an infinity. He's not sure why that was the first spell that came to mind, but he is sure it'll bite him in the arse.

For now he's well pleased with it, still amused by the concept of someone drilling a needle into his skin.

The amusement fades when he looks up and Harry's staring at his new mark in nothing short of awe. Louis feels self-conscious again. He feels a bit hotter and like his skin is on display, more than the casual nudity usually permits. "Lou, that's amazing," Harry says in his normal, slow way, but there's emotion there, something that makes Louis' wings flutter. "What does it mean?"

"It's for connection," Louis replies, holding out his hand because Harry seems like he wants him to.

Harry wets his lips, still staring at Louis' charm in that intense Harry way of his. "Sounds vague," he mutters, then quickly, so as not to offend, adds, "In a beautiful way, I mean. You're—it's so lovely."

"You can touch it," he offers, because he knows Harry's too polite to admit that he wants to.

Harry's eyes snap up. Louis has these thoughts, sometimes. When he looks into Harry's big green eyes and they're specked with gold and he's sure that Harry's got some magic in him, too, that something must have made him this beautiful. He never says it. "Won't it hurt?" Harry asks in a hushed voice, like Louis' asked him to do more than touch his wrist.

He arches an eyebrow. "Of course not. How could you hurt me?"

Harry shrugs, then finally puts a tentative finger on Louis' charm. He traces the loops of the rope, entranced, and it suddenly starts glowing. Harry gasps but doesn't stop, and Louis feels his skin grow warmer in a way that has nothing to do with the spell. Or maybe. Maybe like he's Connected to Harry.

He blurts out something he regrets instantly, because he's an idiot. "Would you like one?"

Instead of dropping it, Harry grabs his wrist, his hand fitting perfectly wrapped around him. Louis can't breathe and it seems like Harry's suffering from the same condition. "Could you give me one? Really?"

This is stupid. This is crossing a line between them. Louis' never even done it before, never came close, because traditionally, runes are passed from kinds to humans during claiming rituals, not random meetings in forests. But he's cast a lot of malicious spells on humans that have gone off without a hitch, so what could go wrong with a positive rune? With confidence that's mostly feigned, Louis says, "If you want me to, sure."

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaims, suddenly excited, and drops himself on the ground. Louis quickly grows thick moss under him so his back doesn't hurt. "Will the magic work on me?"

Louis shakes his head to clear it and lies down more gracefully than Harry had. He props his head on his hand so he can look Harry over. "It should. If you don't want—like, you could just get a normal tattoo."

"Shouldn't, not yet," Harry says with a sigh. "In my line of work—people don't expect me to get one."

Since Harry obviously wants one, Louis has no idea why expectations would come into play. "Your line of work?"

"Yeah, like. My bosses are pretty strict about that kind of thing. Because I should look a certain way, you know?"

Louis' still curious, but Harry's being evasive and his excitement is fading, so Louis gets back on topic. "You realise the runes will look like one? Might raise a few eyebrows."

Harry nods slowly, like he's sad to agree, but then his eyes light up. "Unless it's a secret!"

"What—" Before Louis even finishes his question, Harry's unbuttoning his shirt. Okay, that's happening.

He lies back down and spreads his arm out, swatting Louis' shoulder accidentally. He points to his inner bicep, touching the pale flesh. "Secret tattoo," he explains. "In a secret place."

"Right," Louis says, thoroughly distracted by Harry's soft hips and shivery skin and hardening nipples. "Okay, I suppose. What would you like?"

Harry sucks in his little stomach when he takes a long breath. "Whatever you'll give me."

Right. Louis tears his eyes away from Harry's body and gets on his knees. He focuses on Harry's upper arm, thumbing his own lips and trying to imagine what would fit. "How about a guidance charm?"

"Cool," Harry says automatically. He sounds so happy that Louis has to look at his face again, and all heated thoughts escape his mind because Harry just looks thrilled. Excited for his magic tattoo and magic friend. "What would that do?"

Louis bites back a laugh. "Give you guidance. So you don't get lost in the woods again."

Harry frowns. "You made me get lost."

That's just blatantly untrue. "Well, this would make sure you can come to my patch."

"Oh." Harry absolutely beams at him, in a way that makes Louis' stomach flutter. "Alright. What does it look like?"

"Dunno," Louis says with a shrug. At Harry's confused pout, Louis explains, "You saw, like. I draw it, but the magic has a mind of its own. You don't know what you're gonna get."

"Dangerous," Harry comments. Louis' about to remind him again that they don't have to, but then Harry turns on a cheeky grin and says, "I like it."

"You're an idiot," Louis decides.

Harry smiles even harder at that. "Maybe. What are the chances that it'll look like a giant willy?"

"Harry, honestly, there's no need to advertise how much you want a giant willy."

Harry sputters for a moment, then launches himself at Louis and jabs his ribs hard. Louis' got two advantages here—well, he's got twenty, really, between his inhuman strength and magical powers, but right now the main advantages are that Harry's shirtless, and that Harry's ticklish.

Which is how not four minutes later they end up in the same position—Harry lying defeated on his back with his pale skin flushed and Louis aching to touch him again. "Fine," Harry huffs. "I guess we can do it even if it doesn't turn into a dong." More seriously, he tacks on, "I trust you."

Louis thinks, why, and you shouldn't, and good. "Spread 'em," he says, and Harry spreads both his arms out like wings. Louis still feels the new rune thrumming in his veins, making him even more connected to Harry than he was before, and Harry's a bundle of anticipation and soft skin and humanity. It's enough to give a fairy a headache, if not an appetite.

Louis tells him to steady himself and runs his fingers along the length of Harry's arm. Harry's hand gently clenches in the grass under him. "Is it supposed to hurt?" Louis asks, suddenly a bit protective. If tattoos hurt humans he shouldn't do it to his human.

"It doesn't matter," Harry says quietly, serious now that they're doing it. "I don't mind."

Louis hums. He guesses he can see how a rune will be worth it. And Harry will tell him if it's too much. He traces a circle around the area he's going to draw on Harry's arm, and then conjures up in his mind the particular rune that he wants.

As soon as the power starts flowing from Louis' fingertips to Harry's skin, Harry chokes oh god and tears out all the grassblades he's been clutching. Louis pauses, careful not to remove his fingers and leave Harry with another charm altogether. "Does it hurt?" he asks, eyes glued to the spot that's still glowing under his touch.

"No," Harry breathes, and he sounds so odd that for a moment Louis thinks he might be disappointed. Not getting the full experience. So with his free hand Louis pinches Harry's nipple, hard. Harry reacts by arching his back and gasping again, "Fuck, Louis."

It strikes Louis that he sounds better than when he sings. He sounds better than any pan flute or songbird or luring wood nymph. Louis' stomach feels all twisted up but he has to focus but he can't stop touching but he doesn't want to leave Harry with a penis tattoo but he can't seem to make himself stop tweaking the hard nub of Harry's nipple. When he starts drawing again, long line, peak, long line down, Harry squirms quite hard and Louis makes the grave mistake of looking at his face.

He's biting his full bottom lip so hard it's turning from pink to white under his teeth, and his eyes are squeezed shut tightly enough that his lashes fan over his cheeks. His face is still flushed so prettily and Louis knows what's happening, on some level, but it's like he still can't be sure. He can never be sure with Harry. He spreads his hand out on Harry's pec, so his nipple is still caught between two of Louis' fingers but he can feel his fierce heartbeats. Louis thinks they match his own.

Another sweep up with the rune, and Harry arches again, muscles flexing and harsh breaths distracting Louis for a moment. "Steady," Louis repeats, but Harry's only reaction is to squirm again. Guidance is starting to look like something else, and Louis feels like he only has one option, really. He charms the slimmest roots from the closest tree to surface and wrap loosely around Harry's forearm, pinning it down.

"What—oh my god," Harry mutters, and this time when he wriggles Louis doesn't have to stop. It only makes Harry more restless. "Louis, it's…"

Louis glances at him again, then almost fucks up the rune himself because Harry's eyes are open now, boring into his own arm. The green is almost swallowed by black with the way his pupils are blown, and his lips are wet and reddened and before Louis knows it he's squeezing his nipple again, just to see what happens. Harry throws his head back with a silent gasp, beautiful neck curved and hair fluttery. "Alright?" Louis asks, suddenly at a loss.

Harry nods eagerly, like he gets bound in tree roots every day. "So much," he whispers incoherently.

"Pain?" Louis asks, but doesn't really let Harry answer, as the next part of the rune is a long line and the golden trail his touch leaves makes Harry outright moan.

So he's not surprised when Harry mumbles, "Opposite. Please, Lou."

It must be the magic. Exposing Harry's body to it for the first time must be wreaking havoc on his nervous system. Tricking him into feeling pleasure, because he doesn't know how else to feel this. Louis twists his nipple again, to distract him from it, or maybe. Maybe just because Louis wants to. Likes eliciting these beautiful sounds out of this human, likes amazing him, likes touching him.

The next line is thicker, forces Louis to press down harder with the pads of his fingers, and Harry grunts loudly and then gets quiet. Out of the corner of his eye Louis can see that Harry's brought his other hand to his mouth and he's biting his knuckles. Louis frowns, doesn't like Harry interrupting himself. He grabs Harry's offending hand and pulls it out of his mouth, then waves another root over to pin it down as well. Harry's all spread out and losing it. "Fuck, fuck, Louis, can you stop?"

Louis blinks in surprise. "I can't, love, it'll break the charm," he says apologetically, but starts to release Harry's arms at least.

For some reason, Harry protests to that. "No, please, hands are good, just—god, are you almost done?"

Louis bites his lip. He's almost done with the shape, but then he'll need to go over it at least twice to imprint anything on Harry's human body. "I'll go faster," he promises instead, and his hand drifts up to Harry's hair, pushing it off his forehead and rubbing soothingly into his scalp.

Harry's not exactly soothed. He pushes into Louis' touch and then seems to force himself to settle back down. He starts chanting to himself, shit shit shit, then one two three. His fist digs into the grass next to Louis, burying itself in the dirt, and it takes all of Louis' willpower to focus on getting the stupid rune over with and definitely not chance a glance at Harry's lap.

The second imprint goes faster, as Louis promised, but the magic is starting to settle in the pattern. Which is good, that's the entire goal of this, but it's also completely undoing Harry. He gets louder as his voice gets lower, and despite both his arms being trapped, the rest of his body is practically thrashing next to Louis. "Almost done, you're doing so well, love," Louis says, his voice mostly drowned out by Harry's helpless moans.

Louis keeps petting him as he goes, so distracted that it takes him a moment to realise he's touching wet skin—his thumb is stroking Harry's lovely bottom lip. He feels it tremble with every line, every panicked LouisLouisLouis, wet and puffy and—Harry's tongue sweeps out to touch, drawing his finger right into his mouth.

In the space between the start and finish of the last line, Harry bites down on his thumb and releases the loudest sound yet.

Finally, finally Louis finishes the rune, and he stops touching Harry's arm altogether. Harry visibly sags with relief, his body melting into the moss. Louis wants to ask him if that's better, but then he gets stuck on watching the rune transform, glowing even brighter than before, twisting with Harry's shifting muscles before settling into a much simpler shape.

A five-pointed star, in clean black lines. Very pretty. Very Harry. He smiles broadly and finally looks back at Harry's face, only to find it beet red and guilt-ridden. "Haz?" he asks, slipping his finger out of Harry's hot mouth and stroking the side of his sweaty face. "It came out sick, I think."

Harry absolutely won't meet his eyes. "Please, my hands," he finally says, voice cracking.

Louis waves the roots away quickly, and Harry instantly sits up and draws his knees to his chest, winding his arms around himself. Louis summons some cool water from the stream to cover his hand and then he presses it to Harry's forehead again, hoping to help him through whatever just happened. Harry flinches away and clears his throat awkwardly. "Um, I think I should go."

Louis isn't hurt, that'll be absurd. He stops touching Harry. "Of course, right. And I know you'll get home safe for once," he adds.

"What?" Harry asks, still looking rattled.

Louis points to his own arm. "The rune, idiot."

Harry pushes his hair back and forces out a laugh. "Right, yeah. Thanks. Hey, what's that?" he asks suddenly, pointing behind Louis.

Louis looks over his shoulder, but there's nothing new in the clearing. He turns back, only to find Harry already standing. He wasn't fast enough, though.

There's a big stain right on his crotch. Oh.

Harry drapes his shirt over his arm to hide it, and literally runs away from him.

Oh, shit.

&

Harry thought he had a pretty good handle on things.

He hasn't gotten papped in over a month, even the most zealous of fans have given up on finding his location, the Fortress is starting to look hospitable, and Niall just learned how to make shrimp bisque. Even having a massive crush on a gorgeous mythical woodland creature was working out for him.

And then he nutted in front of said gorgeous mythical woodland creature.

And now his life is basically over.

He's a twenty-year-old millionaire award-winning national star, so sure, he fucks up at times, pisses on the occasional bush when he's too drunk, breaks up his own band and millions of hearts, runs away to the country. But. He was never supposed to be the idiot that jizzes his pants because a fairy did some magic on him.

His stomach twists just from the memory, part mortification and part arousal. And he still gets off to it, turns his arm to look at his magic tattoo and gets hard almost instantly because—it just felt so—much. Just a touch above the belt, nothing that should've turned him into a fifteen-year-old, but it still felt like his body was exploding.

But in a good way, like fireworks. Louis only finger-painted on his arm but it felt like what Harry imagines getting blown by him might feel. Not that he often thinks about blowjobs in relation to Louis, like, things are weird enough with them being best friends from different ecological systems. Weird is a good way to describe what it felt like when Louis pressed his whole slippery body against him, naked and wet and close and naked why is he naked all the fucking time?

Ugh. Harry buries his face in his pillow and wants to cry a little. His head hurts and his dick is hard and his heart is killing him. He can't believe his life is ending before he's even been nominated for a Grammy.

All because of tree bondage.

*

"H, you dick, where the fuck are you?" Niall yells as soon as Harry picks up the phone. He might have been screening him for too long. And ignoring him banging on the door and trying to lure him out with bisque two days ago.

"In the bedroom," he answers, defeated. It's been a week since his life ended.

"Still?" Niall asks, sounding more concerned than annoyed, because Niall's the best person. "Is this like when you were convinced you got pregnant?"

"No, it's…" The awful part is that Harry can't tell anyone about this, about Louis. While he thinks it's the coolest thing ever, some might find it a bit unlikely. He's already getting "Another direction? Harry Styles goes solo after band break-up according to EXCLUSIVE source", he doesn't really need to add "Harry Styles' public meltdown following weeks of seclusion: 'Fairies are real!'"

Also it might get him in trouble with Louis. Not that it matters, since he's never going to see Louis again. He sighs. "No. My life is over."

Niall snorts. "I doubt that, mate, you still haven't won a Grammy or given birth to a baby."

"You don't understand, you don't understand," he insists, wrapping his duvet tighter around himself. He's a ball of misery. "Something catastrophic happened and now my only choice is to move away again and change my name."

"Unless your new name is Count Dickhead, you're not allowed to go anywhere. It took me long enough to find the Fortress, there's really no place more isolated than this countryside."

Harry sniffles. Niall's truly the second best thing that happened to him since he went off the grid. Well, Niall’s one of the best things that ever happened to him, since he started off as the new guitarist working for them and ended up his best mate. Which makes him feel shitty for using a cover story, but considering what he's covering, he thinks it's okay morally. "You remember Lou? My mate from the gym who doesn't know I'm famous?"

There's silence for a moment. Harry blushes for no reason. "You know, Louis. Outdoor guy? Short, scruffy, long eyelashes? Lots of… tattoos? Long-ish hair and—"

"Right, right, your best friend," Niall cuts him off, almost definitely with air quotes.

"My other best friend," he corrects, biting his lip.

Niall huffs. "I'm not competing with your boyfriend, H."

Harry whines pathetically. Since the cover story is built on lies, it's no wonder Niall's come to the wrong conclusion. "He's not, I already told you."

"Harry, truly, it's okay."

Of course it's okay for Niall, who already knows everything about him except this whole mess. "It's not, he's never gonna be my boyfriend."

"D'you wanna tell me about the catastrophe?" Now he sounds more cheery than sympathetic, making Harry think for an idiotic minute that he should talk to Louis about this, but Niall's all he has. Until his untimely demise. Which has already happened.

"I just…" He can tell him, can't he? Niall could probably take it. Their relationship is wicked strong now, an accidental orgasm is nothing between them. He can either tell him or explode. In the bad way. "I humiliated myself in front of him and now I'll never be able to see him ever again."

"Don't tell me…" he pauses, making Harry's breath hitch. "You told him you can sing the whole Les Mis soundtrack?"

Now Harry's offended. "No, and it wouldn't have mattered because he likes it when I sing. Even without the band."

"So? Did you try to dance or skate or use a bicycle or walk in a straight line without falling?"

"I can—no, okay? We were just." Here goes. "He was touching me more than usual and I. Humiliated myself."

Niall's deathly silent. "You popped a boner during a workout?"

Firmly into the pillow he says, "Worse."

He can still hear Niall's cackling even after hanging up.

*

It's not intentional. He really, truly never meant to come back here. But ten minutes after leaving the house to go to the grocery, he finds himself on the now familiar path.

Maybe it's the tattoo.

Stupid, life-ruining tattoo.

Louis' there before Harry's ready to see him. Which is, anytime before never. He just appears, like he always does, offensively naked and majestic. It's not that Harry's forgotten how sexy Louis is, but it's been two weeks and he began suspecting he only imagined how sharp his cheekbones are or how blue his eyes are. Even the trees around him seem greener. The most shocking thing is that he looks happy to see Harry. (His face does, not his dick. Still as thick and magnificent as ever. Harry checked.)

Harry's used to making him smile and laugh, he knows on some level that Louis' fond of him—in a "look at the silly human" way—but he definitely doesn't deserve the full-blown crinkly eyes now. It should make him uneasy, but just seeing Louis makes him feel more at ease than he has in two weeks. He hates this stupid crush, it makes him too happy and settled. "Alright?" he starts, because someone has to say something.

"Yeah. How long's it been?" Louis asks.

Harry inhales sharply. Louis' voice is soft and high and all he can hear is almost done, you're doing so well, love. "Like two weeks."

"Oh! that's not much at all for you!" He smiles extra wide.

Harry tries not to frown. He's gathered that for Louis magic-time moves a bit faster, like timeskips on telly, but for him going from near daily visits to moping for two weeks is a bit of a big deal. Whatever, not Louis' fault. "I should, um. Apologise, probably."

"Hazza, it's really okay."

Nicknames. Okay. "It's really not, it's weird and embarrassing."

"You're weird and embarrassing, it was only to be expected."

Insults. Okay. Harry looks up at Louis again and crosses his arms. "Louis."

Louis just smirks. "Harry."

"Just accept my apology. Please." He's nothing but a nice, polite lad, Louis shouldn't torture him over an accident.

"What does it matter?" Louis asks, crossing his own beautiful arms over his beautiful chest.

"It matters, okay? I know I'm just a random human and you'd never want to get me off, so it was really uncool of me to go ahead and do it, and if I accept that you need to accept it too."

Louis gulps. "Well, I don't accept it."

Still reeling from his outburst, Harry just. Gives up. Whatever, if Louis wants to end their friendship now Harry's ready. He's been ready since his life ended. "Why?"

"Because you're acting dumb, but you're not actually stupid. You're cleverer than me."

"We already knew that," Harry says automatically.

Before he can apologise Louis adds, "And that's why you shouldn't just rule out the possibility that I'd want to get you off."

He drops to the ground like Louis completely turned his world upside down. It's horribly uncool but so is Harry. Louis just goes with him, sitting down cross-legged. Harry's so distracted by his dick that he ends up blurting, "What?"

"Not right now," Louis rushes to say, leaning back a little on his arms so his biceps are bulging. "But. As a possibility. It shouldn't just be dismissed."

Harry's heart rate picks up so fast it might actually be considered a heart attack. His face gets hotter and his fingers twitch. He must have heard wrong, he... there's no way. Despite what the past two weeks might have suggested, Harry's a pretty confident guy, laid-back and optimistic. But with Louis he's been so out of his depth from day one that he never even considered he had an actual chance.

And a chance at what, even? "Lou. You're a fairy."

"I'm well aware."

Harry's starting to consider the fact this might not be a joke. "Are you fucking with me?"

Louis leans forward to touch Harry's knee. "No, listen, I remembered how you did all your research on fairies so I started doing research on human men."

"Oh god." Harry resists the urge to touch Louis' hand, because Louis' ridiculous.

"Yeah, it was mostly horrifying, but you made me strong enough to push through."

"Me?"

"I just remembered how you—you're quite beautiful, you know that." Before Harry can process that, Louis continues. "Anyway, we're not all that different, physically. Dicks are dicks, prostates are prostates. Human nipples are more sensitive, which explains, you know. Oh," he adds and takes Harry's hands, making him even more jittery. "Human hands are less sensitive, since you don't have any magic concentrated there. And you don't have wings, and you can only come once at a time?"

Harry cannot handle this conversation. Louis' talking about this like it's happening, and Harry's stunned, confused and horny all at once. And Louis must know what he's doing, he always teases Harry, it's part of their thing. He knows he's got Harry twitching by talking about coming. He's so embarrassed it's hard to breathe. "What are you even saying?"

"I'm saying I don't accept your apology about what happened, because I think you're lovely."

Harry feels himself blush again. His hand is still in Louis' and he's not sure he's handling the compliment well, not sure it's supposed to feel like sunshine's hitting his heart directly. He looks up from under his lashes and smiles for the first time. "You went through a lot of trouble to make your point."

Louis smiles back at him. "I was afraid you weren't coming back, a few awkward conversations with friends  weren't much."

"I meant the tree bondage," he says, biting the inside of his cheek.

Louis bursts out laughing, and it's like every horrible cliché, like the sun peeking from behind the clouds. "You should see what I can do with vines."

Right, he's an awful person creature. Harry feels hot all over but this conversation has gone too far for him not to ask, "Do people do this? Crossing species like that?"

Louis shrugs. "You're the one who gushed about the human prince kissing a mermaid. It's not like you kissing a cat."

He remembers Louis having a human friend who named him. He remembers Louis being pretty much human other than his wings and oversensitive hands, apparently. So less like zoophilia, more like muggle-wizard relations. He can work with that. "Are we gonna kiss then?"

Louis' thumb sweeps over the back of Harry's hand. "D'you want to?"

Harry smirks. "I mean, you already saw me come, it's only fair that I kiss you."

"Oh, like it was my fault—"

Harry leans in. He doesn't brush their lips together yet, doesn't even close his eyes, just looks at Louis in challenge and breathes. He's not even as nervous as he should be. Louis' into him, said so in four different ways. And god knows he's into Louis, has been since he felt Louis' slippery body all over him, naked and wet and close. (Or maybe before that. Maybe since he wore Harry's flower crown proudly.)

Louis gets right to it, fits his soft, thin lips against Harry's and sucks a little. Harry's eyes squeeze shut, brain instantly blank. His jaw goes slack and Louis gets even closer, his tongue flicking over Harry's lips and slipping between them. Harry makes a noise that's probably embarrassing, but it doesn't matter because Louis' kissing him slow and hot, hand climbing up Harry's chest to his hair, tugging on his bun.

He feels tingly from his lips to his toes, kisses back excitedly. It's Louis, Louis' kissing his mouth like he owns it, Louis' teeth are gently sinking into Harry's bottom lip like he's been craving it. And he tastes—Harry knows it's stupid, that mouths taste like mouths, but he swears to god Louis tastes sweet and sharp, smells even better this close, like blooming flowers.

A part of Harry still doesn't believe it's real, is convinced it's a magical hallucination of some sort, but then he's touching Louis' shoulders, tracing his muscles and runes from memory. His skin is soft and inviting, and Harry digs his fingers in and wonders how he'll manage to stop touching him. Louis starts kissing him harder then, wet and breathtaking, hand tight in his hair and tongue driving him mad.

Harry can't think even after Louis pulls back—only makes a needy sound and chases after him, drawing his pouty lip between his own and biting. It's Louis that makes a sound then, high-strung and completely mindblowing. If Louis planned on detaching or talking or breathing, it seems that he abandons it for more kissing. Excellent.

His grip keeps tightening on Louis because it only seems to spur him on, makes his kiss dirtier, until Harry's body feels hotter for reasons other than embarrassment. They end up with Louis practically in his lap, both arms wrapped around Harry's neck. They just fit, their mouths fit and their bodies fit and their breaths fit. He's so overwhelmed by all the action he nearly misses Louis whispering, "You feel good."

Harry grunts just hearing his voice, slightly gruffer and lovely. "You taste like magic," he replies, making Louis laugh against his chin. Harry quickly swallows the sound by kissing him again. He doesn't even want to take it back—Louis does taste like magic. It's a mix of vanilla and joy. So ice cream, basically. He wonders if Louis ever tasted ice cream. Louis cuts his thoughts off by biting him again and humming. More ice cream kisses.

He hasn't breathed in probably ten hours, so it's totally justified to gasp when Louis kisses the corner of his mouth gently and then latches onto his neck. It's like his skin lights up wherever Louis touches it. Louis' mouth is on his body. Harry might never breathe again.

"See," Louis murmurs against his jaw. "Told you we're not all that different."

"Huh?" He doesn't bother trying to understand, couldn't think straight anyway, not with Louis' sharp teeth scraping against his throat. Or Louis shifting closer suddenly, grinding on Harry's hips and oh.

Harry realises three things at once: he's been scratching Louis' sides, Louis' as naked as always, and Louis' magnificent dick is hard. Hard. On him. Because of him. For him. Jesus Christ, Harry's body isn't warm, it's on fire. "Louis," he breathes. He was going for sexy but probably ended up on confused overexcited kitten.

"Yeah," Louis counters, sexier than anything in this world.

Harry's been pleasantly horny from the moment Louis started talking about theoretically wanting to fuck him, but now it's almost painful, like Louis being turned on just amplified his own desire. He knows Louis can feel how hard he is, he's right there, his arse is touching Harry. Fuck. His arse. Harry's hands clamp on Louis' hipbones, trying to channel self-control he really, really doesn't possess to prevent himself from touching Louis' arse. It'll be like sacrilege. "Louis," he says again, a touch more desperately.

Harry's hardly a virgin, but it's been awhile since he got laid, and he's never kissed a magical creature before. Most importantly, he's never kissed Louis before, with his beautiful eyes and smart mouth and bursts of kindness when he's not being too much of a shit. (It might be a bit more than a crush. That bit is definitely overwhelming.)

Harry tilts his head back to recapture Louis' pink lips. He's sure his are cherry red by now, so sensitive it makes his head swim when Louis clamps his teeth on them and kisses him hard. He thinks about Louis kissing him somewhere else, biting the soft skin of his thighs, but he's not sure he's ready for that. Both because he's afraid of embarrassing himself again, and because he's afraid of discovering other differences between them, like how Louis grows tentacles when he comes or something.

So they kiss until they can't breathe, and then venture to suck on each other's necks until Harry's twitching too much, and then he goes back to Louis' sweet mouth for more.

It's by far the most unlikely afternoon he's ever spent, including the one where he went to show his godbaby some flowers and stumbled upon a real life fairy.

*

They sort of don't stop kissing. For like, a week. Harry's determined to make up for their two weeks apart by going to the woods every day, and Louis greets him with a peck that turns into a kiss that turns into chasing each other until they find a comfortable spot to make out in for ten hours. It's always been exciting to go and visit Louis—a magical friend that lives in his backyard and shows him wonderful things while making him laugh—but nowadays there's an extra spring in his step when he tells Niall he's going to work out.

"Work out?" Louis asks, planting a kiss high on Harry's neck.

"Yeah," Harry hums, happy and calm and chatting with Louis. Who's in his lap again, holding his hand and kissing him. His life is just brilliant. "He's been checking in with me every day since I moved here. Started visiting too, after I told him where I actually moved. So I told him I'm letting out steam by going to the gym all the time."

"It's not very good to lie to your friend, is it?" Louis asks, tutting and biting his jaw playfully.

Harry sighs, completely unrelated to Louis taking the piss out of him. "Said the mythical creature of mischief. To the most well-behaved best friend ever."

Louis snorts, leaning back and letting go of Harry's hand to gesture around them. Pointing out Harry's tiny, insignificant bump in a very rich history of pleasing Niall. "Not that well-behaved, are you?"

There's something in the way he says it that makes Harry a little hot. "Guess I'm not," he mutters. In one move he grabs Louis' waist and hauls him closer, kissing him properly. Louis smiles against his lips and Harry can feel his wings flutter against his knuckles. It's one of his very favourite feelings.

It might be easy to cover up the fact he's going to a magic forest every day, but the rest is harder to hide from Niall.

"Look who's come back from the dead," Niall declares, running into the kitchen to give Harry a leaping hug.

Harry's breath is knocked out of him but he does manage to catch Niall, only stumbles a little into the fridge.

"I'm a zombie now," he cautions.

Niall only pokes his side and laughs. "I can see that, your skin is all splotchy." He's waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly, and Harry realises he's referring to the hickies decorating his neck.

He just grins, happy and unashamed. "See? Once you're bitten you're toast." He gives Niall a moment to appreciate the genius of Harry saying that while making toast. "Wish there was someone with a brain around here to munch on."

He makes a show of looking all around Niall, but Niall just laughs. "Joke's on you mate. Werewolves have to bite each other, not zombies. Zombies have to eat each other, I think." The smirk on his face could rival Louis' when he says, "Did you get eaten, Harry?"

Harry sighs. As long as Louis gives him make-out sessions, Harry won't be too vocal about how much he misses having his arse played with by another person. That's what he keeps telling himself, anyway. "No, not lately. But, me and Louis made up," he says proudly, stretching his neck like it wasn't obvious enough. Just catching sight of the marks in his reflection on the fridge makes his stomach flip. Louis did that.

"That's awesome!" Niall whoops, slapping Harry's stomach.

Harry grins. "Yeah, it really is."

Niall sits on the table next to Harry's plate and steals a bit of toast. "You look loads happier. Congrats on the sex, mate."

Well. "We haven't exactly had sex. Yet."

"Really?" He raises his eyebrow like Harry finally said something interesting. "Are you sure?"

Harry scratches his neck distractedly. "Think I would've noticed."

Niall doesn't judge or even ask why. He just punches Harry's shoulder and says, "That's cute. You've got a reputation to not live up to."

Harry sighs, thoughts drifting from Louis' mouth for once. "Is it bad out there?"

Niall doesn't answer immediately, which is worrying enough, and then he hops off the table and goes to his discarded bag, picking up a copy of The Sun. Great. A little bit of Dan Wootton in the morning. Harry grabs the paper, while Niall grabs the remains of his toast. "There's jam in the—oh no."

Mystery girl claims to be stashing Harry Styles: "He just wanted to settle down"

Niall pats him. His hand is dirty but Harry will take any comfort offered. "D'you think it's the same mystery girl The Mirror has?"

Niall sighs. "I think it's ridiculous they call themselves journalists but they haven't figured out I'm your only mystery girl."

Harry snorts. "I can imagine the story you'd sell. Harry Styles snores and pisses with the door open."

"How many scented candles are too many scented candles?" Niall joins in, full commentator impression. "Harry Styles might have the answer."

"An insider look into Harry Styles' bedroom—why does the heartthrob collect homoerotic art pieces?"

"How to go to the gym every day and not get buffer: what is Harry Styles really up to after the 1D breakup?"

He sputters and smacks Niall's head with the paper, giving up on the game entirely. "I'm developing my core muscles," he justifies, not too sure where his core muscles are.

"Yeah, riding dick?"

"Oh god." He plants his face in the table. "Why are they still after me? Don't they get that I moved to the Fortress of Solitude for a reason?"

"You just created more mystery 'round it. But it's really not that bad."

Harry doesn't see how it's not that bad. The band broke up because Harry wasn't allowed to come out of the closet, yet now everyone's only more interested in his sex life. "What if we move to the country? But like, in Sweden?"

"No, H, that wasn't the point."

He knows what the point is. Niall's been very accepting so far, but even he's starting to hint that Harry should come out of hiding. He can't do that until he figures out his next move. He has control over his life for the first time ever, if he wants to spend it hanging out in a forest, he can.

"So how do I become a forest creature?" he asks Louis a few hours later.

"Hm?" Louis replies, not even stopping his fiddling with Harry's headband. It's expensive silk but Louis' playing with it like it's cotton. Though he'd probably like it more if it were 100% natural cotton. "Like Tarzan?"

Harry smiles hard, pleasantly surprised that Louis even remembered that conversation. "Yeah. What do I need to do?"

Louis thinks for a moment, wrapping the headscarf around his wrist and looking at Harry. "You'll have to live off the things that grow here."

"No problem, I love fruit," he waves it off. "What next?"

"Well, are you ready to go on forest adventures? Or are you scared?"

Harry huffs and gets on his hands and knees from his lazy sprawl on the ground. He crawls closer to Louis to show his ferocity. "I am fearless. And also, like, I've travelled quite a bit. I've been to Machu Picchu, have you ever heard of that?"

It takes Louis a moment to answer, probably because he's looking down Harry's shirt. He's smiling and leaning back on his elbows, legs spread like he's waiting for Harry to crawl a little closer. "Never been, probably too busy being a fantastical magic creature."

Harry pouts. "That's the secret to forest life then? Magic?"

Louis breaks immediately, stretching forward to stroke Harry's hair gently. It's nice. "Didn't say that, pet. There's another secret."

Harry cracks an eye open, then wonders when he even closed them. Must be a natural reaction to Louis scratching behind his ear. Maybe he is a pet, deep down. "What secret?"

Suddenly Louis gets on his knees too, so his face is much closer and his eyes are glinting. "The real secret is you have to be shirtless."

There it is. Since their relationship entered the vague status it's in now, and since Harry's awful at reading signals, he's never sure when they're talking shit and when they're flirting. He thinks they just crossed that line. "Really now?"

Louis nods, fingers already drifting to the hem of Harry's T-shirt. "Have you ever seen shirts in a forest?"

He tries to give it some thought. Tarzan, Mowgli, George of the Jungle, Louis. "Guess not. You should take off my top, then."

Louis rolls his eyes like Harry's being an awful diva about this, and knee-walks over so they're only a foot apart. "Up," he says, and Harry lifts his arms obediently. Louis tugs his shirt up and over his head, brushing his hands over Harry's arms on the way down to make him shiver.

There's this way that Louis looks at him, eyes sweeping over his whole body like he's curious, trying to figure Harry out. It should make Harry shrink, but really he just—wants to let Louis have it. Probably because he spends most of their time together ogling Louis. He doesn't want to be the only rude one.

He's so focused on Louis' eyes that he's surprised when Louis touches his arm. He's brushing over the tattoo he gave him, making him gulp. It doesn't feel like much usually, his human body must not be that easily charmed, but for Louis his skin gets slightly warmer, ticklish, odd. Like the magic is responding. "Still looks good," Louis says, probably complimenting himself, because he's a dick.

"Mm-hm," Harry agrees, then keeps humming as Louis trails his fingers up to his armpit and over to his collarbones. "Still hasn't turned into a dong."

Louis laughs. "I could give it to you."

Harry's eyes immediately snap down to Louis' crotch, barely covered by his leafy miniskirt. "Cock?"

Louis' smile turns that much dirtier and he leans in, so their chests are touching and his breath hits Harry's neck. It's infinitely worse when Louis grabs his arm and presses down on his tattoo, causing heat to spread from it. "Another rune."

Harry just hums, keyed up already. Louis smells as good as always and his hands are on him and his mouth is going to follow. It's been a week of snogging, getting hard and jumping in the stream to cool off, and Louis still hasn't grown tentacles, nor a sudden disgust toward the human race. Harry thinks it's time to kick this experiment up a notch.

He puts his hands on Louis' sides and scratches down, until he reaches his waist and starts unraveling the skirt. "Would rather cock, to be honest."

Louis' grip only gets tighter, and Harry can feel him smile. It makes his stubble scrape against Harry's skin harshly, beautifully. "Really now?" he asks, obviously teasing.

Harry wants to blow him away with a cheeky reply, but the compulsion to just blow him is fogging up his mind. It always gets like this when they're touching, like Louis' the only thing that matters in the world, like nothing will make Harry happier than getting more touch. His hands settle on Louis' bare hips and even while he talks, all he can think about is how lovely Louis feels. "Can I?"

Louis doesn't ask him to specify. He just leans in to finally kiss him. Harry practically purrs, licking into Louis' mouth slowly and rubbing his thumbs over his soft skin. Louis wriggles until their hips almost line up, and sucks on Harry's lower lip. So Harry moves his hand to finally cop a feel.

Whoa. So fairy dick doesn't feel different to human dick, but Louis' dick is definitely a fine specimen. Harry almost moans himself just wrapping his hand around him, thick and hot and ready. He strokes him tight, caught up in how Louis' getting harder, how he's starting to move into it. How Harry's touching him.

Louis' kissing him hungrily, like he's half as needy for it as Harry is, and it's all quite overwhelming. Harry starts playing with the head, ecstatic to find that his fingers are getting damp, and unconsciously moves his other hand from Louis' hip to his arse.

Naturally, he only gets one heavenly moment of feeling Louis up before everything goes to shit. Because Harry moving has encouraged Louis to move, to grind against him hard and sudden and so good that Harry just loses his balance completely and collapses to the side. He wasn't even standing, Harry has no idea why he's like this. Regardless of the humiliation, it genuinely hurts enough to kill his mood. (He's good with pain, really, just not scraping his elbow bloody on the ground.)

"Wha—" Louis starts, dazed and with his eyes darting everywhere like he's not sure where Harry went. His pupils are dilated and his cock is hard and Harry wants to ask for a Smoothness rune.

"Ow," he says weakly and miserably, holding his bruised elbow and pouting.

Louis just laughs, because he's a dick. "Did you just—how?"

Harry pouts harder. "Listen, I've got ridiculously comfortable furniture at home. Soft and big and comfy."

Louis doesn't bother stopping his laugh, leaning down to kiss Harry again without offering any elbow assistance. "Some forest man you are."

Whatever. He just wants Louis to pin him down on his 250 thread count, Egyptian cotton sheets, is that so wrong? Louis' probably never even felt anything like that cloud-like heaven. He just wants to show him the world.

On his back with his legs in the air.

For now he kisses him and keeps whining about his elbow until Louis gets heartbreakingly soft and draws the stream closer and defiles Harry's headscarf for bandaging purposes. It's ridiculous, but he kind of likes Louis taking care of him.

*

"I need you darling, c'mon set the tone, if you feel you're falling won't you let me know, oh oh—oh my god," Harry yells, nearly braining himself on a rock after tripping over a watermelon.

He's alerted to Louis' presence by the sound of loud laughter. He steps out from behind a tree and literally points and laughs at him. Harry blushes angrily and stands up, picking up his hat and the watermelon as if to lob it at Louis' head. Louis puts his hands up, but his eyes are still mischievous. "Hi love," he chirps.

Harry sets the watermelon down gently and then puts his hands on his hips. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"It's just a watermelon," Louis points out.

Harry frowns. "I've never seen watermelons here before."

Louis skips closer to him, picking up the fruit easily. "Well, I just figured we could pick up where we left off."

"Oh." Harry's eyes immediately dart all over Louis' body, taking in his strong biceps and light chest hair and tattoos. He had his dick in his hand a couple of days ago. It's so nice. He starts unbuttoning his shirt quickly. "Now you're talking."

Instead of ripping off Harry's shirt and getting hard, Louis laughs again. "I meant—come here," he says, actually crooking his finger and beckoning Harry.

Harry smiles and comes closer, resting his hands on the curve of Louis' lower back and reeling him in for a kiss. Louis' quiet for a rare moment, nipping at Harry's lip and then kissing him sweetly. He tastes like fresh fruit and happiness. Much like he smells. For a person who lives in a forest, Louis' extremely fragrant and well-groomed. "Haz," Louis breathes when Harry starts nuzzling down the graceful line of his throat, smelling and kissing him simultaneously.

"Mm?" he asks, lips tight on the crook of Louis' neck. He's hunching awkwardly but he likes it, likes how Louis' almost human-sized. Keeps thinking about picking Louis up and pinning him to trees.

"Still not what I meant," Louis insists, as if Harry remembers what he's talking about.

And then there's a watermelon shoved against his stomach, pushing him back and away from all that's good in the world. He could cry. Louis rolls his eyes, pretty lashes fluttering, and gives Harry a chaste kiss. "Don't pout. Come see."

Louis takes his hand and starts pulling him along, down the familiar path. Harry only has his good upbringing to thank for not staring at Louis' arse the whole way. Louis stopped doing the leaf skirt thing, and Harry stopped commenting on it. It's a beautiful day.

His horniness level flies back up to 100 when they reach their destination. It's the most fantastic fruits patch he's ever seen. There are more watermelons, but also pineapples and coconuts and passionfruit and kiwi and strawberries. Most of them are out of season but all of them look ripe and smell like a dream. It's completely unnatural and Harry just looks at Louis' smug smile and wants to spend the rest of his life with his dick in his mouth. "Lou. What the fuck?"

Louis plops down and grabs a few grapes, popping them in his mouth with a smile. "You said you love fruit. If you're really serious about living in the forest, figured I'd make your transition a bit easier." He says it all with his mouth full and juice trailing down his chin. He's gross and wonderful.

Harry sits down next to him and stares at the closest banana tree. They're so yellow his throat goes dry. "Are we gonna make a fruit salad?"

"Sure," Louis says, holding up a knife. A steel one.

That Harry recognises. "Is this…" he looks from it to Louis five times. "Is this from my house?"

"Mm-hm," Louis replies, completely shameless. "Nicked it."

Harry blinks. What Louis' insinuating is so—unspeakable that it's like his brain is slow to catch up. "You were at my house?"

"Yeah?" It sounds like he's not sure why Harry's even surprised.

Harry gulps. "You can leave the forest?"

"Of course, I'm not a nymph. Don't you remember my gadgets and gizmos?" He sticks the knife in a fallen apple and picks it up to sink his teeth in. More juice. Harry's whole body roars.

"Louis, why were you at my house and didn't tell me?"

Louis shrugs. He's starting to look just a tiny bit contrite, like he's gathering from Harry's reaction that he might have fucked up from a human perspective. "It wasn't about you? I needed a knife, and they don't grow on trees."

Harry huffs. He's not even upset about Louis breaking and entering; he's already invaded most of Harry's space, brain and body. Like, not physically yet, but in his soul Louis takes up a lot of real estate. No, what he's upset about is Louis being in the Fortress and not even thinking about how Harry might have wanted to see him or kiss him or show him his TV.

"Look," Louis adds, and then does some magic, because he knows Harry too well and uses it to distract him. He puts the watermelon between them and bangs on it with a flat palm. All the once, it's sliced in half and hollowed out so the rind becomes their salad bowl. The watermelon itself is then sliced into cubes to fill the rind.

"That's sick," Harry says, clapping. Making it problematic to go back and be angry at him. He hopes Louis got the point, anyway. He'll definitely press him about it soon enough. He steals a few watermelon pieces, moaning at how juicy it is, and then grabs the knife from Louis and starts working on some mangos.

He throws himself into it, inspecting the dozens of fruit Louis grew just for him. "What's your favourite?" he asks, trying to envision the dominant flavour in the most important salad he's ever made.

"Don't really care," Louis claims, banging the coconut open and pouring the juice into the oversized watermelon-y bowl. At Harry's insistent look, Louis says, "Whatever's sweet enough."

Harry should probably judge him for being rather childish, but he finds it adorable. He eats a sickly sweet strawberry and then gives Louis a kiss. Louis smiles as he licks into Harry's mouth, and... if Harry were less determined to eat every fruit here, he'd probably make it all sexy. Probably later. He pulls back and tosses Louis the pineapple for him to cut. Even though he's using his magic powers, his slices are still uneven and he gets everything messy. Louis is a mess.

He also gets bored after maybe five minutes. "I'm bored," is how he should express it, but instead he just starts chucking berries at Harry. Very slowly, Harry turns his head to Louis and narrows his eyes menacingly. Louis just smirks, pretending like there's nothing in his hands.

Harry picks a banana. They both look at it. And then he throws it squarely at Louis' chest.

It's exactly what Louis was gunning for. It takes two seconds for war to break out, Louis armed with pears he can apparently levitate and Harry armed with oranges and really shitty aim. They're soft enough that they don't hurt when Louis hits his shoulders, but he still gets sticky and vengeful. He growls like a wild cat and launches an attack so fierce he even manages to hit Louis a couple of times.

Louis yells and floats to his feet, grinning so hard his eyes are crinkling and Harry's heart squeezes. Sometimes they're together and Louis looks like maybe the highlight of his magical fantastical week, where he can do absolutely anything, is having a fruit fight with a clumsy human. And Harry knows that as a celebrity he is a lot of people's favourite person, but Louis doesn't—idolize him, isn't even aware of the celebrity bullshit. He just really likes him. Enough to bruise him with cherries.

It ends kind of how Harry suspected it would end: with him lying winded on his back and Louis crowing in victory straddling his lap. "The forest ruler wins again! Surrender!"

Harry makes a show of it, throwing his arms back and sighing. "Have mercy."

Louis does not have mercy. He smirks down at Harry and squashes a couple of strawberries between his hands. Harry only has a moment to cringe at the sound before the mangled fruit is rubbed onto his chest. It feels gross and wet and kind of hot, when Louis' tongue slips out in concentration. "Lou," he whines. "It's all sticky."

"Well excuse me," Louis huffs, and cups his hand over Harry's torso. Suddenly there's water rushing into it, clear in the air and filling up Louis' palm.

As shocking as witnessing magic always is, Harry's quick enough to whine again, "Not like that."

Louis quirks an eyebrow in question, still poised over him. Harry clenches his abs and lifts up until they're almost pressed together, close enough to kiss. He looks at Louis' slack mouth for a moment, and then ducks down to bite Louis' shoulder, slurping the piece of mango that's sticking to it. It's so sweet he would've licked Louis' skin clean even if he weren't going for making it all sexy. (But he is.)

When he draws back he doesn't get a second to inspect the damage he's caused because Louis' on him with the intensity of a hundred salads in the wind. He flattens him to the ground and starts biting down Harry's neck, sending his body into overdrive.

His skin feels sensitive under every broad swipe of Louis' tongue. When he reaches the fruit mash he scrapes Harry's chest with his sharp teeth, and Harry knows he's leaving red marks instead of the fruit and Harry's been vaguely turned on for an hour but now he's rock hard and wriggling.

Louis' on his nipple when he starts to unzip his jeans, and if his fingers felt good on it the first time, his mouth feels amazing. He's not shy either, biting it tenderly and then roughly, making Harry shiver. He feels hot and cold all at once, feels his cock twitch. Feels Louis drag his jeans and briefs down his hips but not farther, so his legs are stuck together. Louis' penchant for casual bondage is looking promising.

He starts moving again, sucking a bruise over Harry's ribs and Harry squirms, his fingers digging into the grass hard.

He knows that Louis has a trajectory, that he's shuffling down his body, but he doesn't dare to hope for anything until Louis' clever tongue laps over his V line and his wet lips clamp over his hipbone. He's so close to his cock Harry can feel his cheek brushing it, and his fucking toes are curling. "Lou," he breathes, his brain all scattered. It's like his whole being is focused on where Louis' touching his body—warm mouth near his belly button, tight grip on his hips.

"Yeah?" Louis murmurs into the crease of his thigh. Harry barely hears him, either because of his pulse hammering in his ears or because Louis' being purposefully teasing. He can still feel Louis' tongue everywhere from before, feels wet from it, even when Louis' just breathing on his cock.

"Please," he manages, exhaling sharply because he thinks he's going to explode. This is like the first time Louis kissed him—no, the moment before he did, when Harry could feel his breath but not his lips, when the anticipation pulsing in his chest was more real than Louis' taste. "Please."

"Let's see if you're sweet enough," Louis whispers, obviously nailing the punchline, and then his tongue is on Harry's cock, licking up the length of it like a treat.

Harry's legs kick out and he's pretty sure he'll never be able to breathe again. It's like Louis' savouring it somehow, like he's got all the time in the world, running his tongue on his cock over and over again, up and down. It's feather-light and frustrating as fuck, which is very fitting for Louis. Harry's hips keep jumping but Louis' grip on him is surprisingly strong, pushing his arse down into the hard ground. It should snap him out of it, but instead he feels like he's sinking deeper, like even if Louis kept teasing him it could be enough.

He doesn't, thank fuck. After the thousandth time of licking up from his balls to his cockhead, Louis finally wraps his lips around him and starts sinking down. After all the licking, he takes it easily. Or he makes it look easy, anyway. He looks like an absolute dream. Like, Harry had this dream before, thought once or twice about this beautiful creature mouthing at his cock.

He could have imagined how lovely Louis would look—his cheekbones sharper than ever and his lips so pink around his big cock and his eyelashes casting shadows when he closes his eyes in concentration. But he couldn't have imagined how it would feel. Which is perfect.

Louis sucks like he kisses, nice and slow until Harry can't handle it anymore, like teasing him is half the fun, and then taking what he wants. In this case he goes and goes and goes and—Harry can't even look at him anymore, can't bring himself to see his cock disappear in Louis' hot mouth this easy and fast, because he might die. For a moment he wonders if Louis will fuck him the same way, but that certainly doesn't help the not breathing situation.

Suddenly he pulls off completely, and Harry lets out a frustrated grunt he didn't mean. His cock slaps against his stomach, wet and achingly hard. The chilly air hits it, making the loss of Louis' perfect mouth even more profound, but Harry… likes it, the way he likes ice cubes. Gentle hurt. He must look right miserable, because Louis hums in sympathy.

Harry opens his eyes again, and is struck dumb by how beautiful Louis looks—panting just slightly over his cock, cheeks flushed, pretty hair mussed. He makes another involuntary, pathetic sound. Louis just smiles, happily, with the mouth that's going to be full of Harry's cock in two seconds Jesus Christ. Then he says in a deeper voice, "Right," and stuffs his mouth.

He's all business this round, sucking him down halfway and tugging him off from the base. He pushes up with his tongue so his mouth feels tight-perfect as he bobs his head up and down, so fast his hair is fluttering and his throat muscles are working and, "Fuck, fuck, Lou I'm—god, yeah, yeah—"

It's completely out of his hands when he comes. It's in Louis' hands, actually. Like, he popped him out of his mouth and started pumping him lightning fast. Harry's too close to mind, driven mad by the wet sound of it and the determination on Louis' face. He swears his vision blacks out when he shoots all over his own stomach, groaning blissfully.

His brain is barely restarting when Louis just. Starts licking his own come-stained fingers. Harry only just watched his own dick pushing into Louis' mouth, but apparently that didn't immune him to this show. Louis runs his tongue over his nimble fingers with a calculating look, and then eventually stops torturing him and says, "It's bitter."

Harry's first instinct is to apologise, then he realises that it's not his fault that's how human jizz tastes, then he decides he still wants to apologise if any of his human traits offended Louis' magic sensibilities somehow. By the time he figures out a response, though, he figures something else out: Louis wasn't complaining, he was making an observation.

That's based on the fact Louis still has his fingers in his mouth as he jerks off. His dick is as nice and hard as Harry remembered, even with Louis' hand flying over it. If he could look away from Louis touching himself between his legs, he'd notice Louis' biting hard on his fingers, his eyes boring into Harry's heaving, stained chest. He's not moving his hand as much as he's moving his hips, fucking into his fist quick and sure. Harry came his brains out two minutes ago but his whole body shivers with how much he wants Louis.

His decision is practically made for him. He clenches his abs and sits up, planting a kiss on Louis' puffy lips over his fingers. He moves to his neck then, just buries his face there and breathes in Louis' sweet smell and whispers, "Up."

Louis' going hard still, so his knuckles keep rubbing against Harry's stomach and probably getting come on his cock. Harry's come. The head of Louis' cock is gliding in it and Harry just grabs his pumping hips and collapses back. Louis' dragged forward, and his eyes open in confusion. Harry grunts, beyond desperate. He squeezes Louis' hips hard and tries to pull him closer. "Up, up, up."

Louis must be catching his drift, as he slowly climbs up Harry's legs while cupping himself, but he still pulls his fingers out of his mouth and asks, "What?"

He sounds huffy and breathy and Harry's hands are on his beautiful thighs and his heart is hammering. "Up, I wanna swallow, c'mon."

Louis wets his reddened lips and Harry catches the way his hand tightens on his dick. He moves a lot faster up Harry's body then, until he's straddling his chest and pumping his cock right against Harry's lips. Harry can't breathe, too scared to move in case Louis will.

It feels like he's chasing his orgasm, mouth gaping in anticipation. Louis makes a trembling sound and reaches down with his free hand to stroke Harry's cheek. It starts sweet, but then he just snaps Harry's jaw shut. Right. He's going to come on his face instead of in his mouth. That does absolutely nothing for Harry. Just like he's completely unaffected by Louis' firm smooth perfect arse on his chest, or the way he's moaning, or how his lips still look like he sucked Harry's cock.

Harry moves his head just slightly to nip at Louis' fingers, and then unexpectedly it happens. Louis smiles like an idiot and comes, hitting Harry's lips and chin and his own fingers, which Harry now remembers are oversensitive. It's perfect. Louis' mouth drops open like he can't get enough air and his hand keeps milking his cock and his eyes are closed and his head is tipped back so his cheekbones are out of this world and his wings are snapping open and shut so fast his hair is fluttering all sexy and his shoulders are shaking.

If Harry could spend the rest of his life under Louis in the height of passion he absolutely fucking would.

And that's been decided before he even opens his mouth and discovers that Louis' jizz tastes like maple syrup. He moans and opens his mouth wide, licking his own lips and stretching his tongue trying to get at whatever landed on his chin. It actually, really tastes sweet, what the fuck. Louis notices his efforts after a bit and smirks, stopping his hand to push his soft cock into Harry's mouth. Harry sucks it greedily, knowing that if Louis' too sensitive he'll just pull out. His mind is completely blown; he's always been passionate about come, hence why he wanted to swallow in the first place, but he never imagined magical delicious come.

He doesn't even know why he's surprised. It's Louis. Sexy as fuck, stroking Harry's sweaty face like he did anything but suck him off and then defile his face. God, he wants him to fuck his face. Louis looks like he's gonna mock him, so Harry beats him to it by pushing his tongue against his cockhead and sucking hard. He knows he could get Louis hard again, knows he'd love to feel it happen in his mouth, then his throat, but Louis spoils it by saying that's enough and pulling out.

Instead of rolling over and sidling up to him, he bats his wings to float off Harry's chest and lands by his side. Harry looks over and wonders what he should say, if he should compliment Louis or crack a joke or confess his love prematurely, but before he can decide Louis leans in to kiss him. He could melt into the grass—Louis being so into kissing is one of the best things about him.

He pulls back and just smiles at Harry, rubbing his thumb over the come on Harry's cheeks and then feeding it to him. This is bliss. And then Louis slaps him and says, "I need to wash."

Since Louis isn't the one with two loads on him, Harry doubts it's that urgent, but he lets him go and sits up himself. Noticing for the first time that their surrounding completely changed while they fooled around. The paling shrubs became astonishingly colourful flowerbeds, and their carefully constructed fruits patch exploded.

He turns wide eyes to Louis, who's either still flushed from coming or actively blushing at the mess his magic must have made. Because of Harry. How embarrassing. "We were too ambitious anyway?" Louis tries, avoiding Harry's eyes.

Harry laughs and rolls his jeans the rest of the way off, then gets up on his feet, careful not to step in watermelon debris. "Do you often make fruit explode or were these ones offensive?"

Louis doesn't bother answering, just flounces off in the direction of the pond. Harry watches him go, then stretches, curving his slightly sore back. While it's adventurous and new to fuck in the woods, Harry isn't sure how fast his body will adjust. It makes an alarming cracking noise when he bends down to pick up a bunch of grapes that survived.

He finds Louis already in the water, floating on his back with his arms spread and his cock out. Harry jumps right in inelegantly, making Louis sputter in surprise and flop around. The water's warm, a nice contrast to the air. Harry swims a lap, trying to get used to it and avoiding Louis' half playful half murderous attempts to dunk him.

He reaches the waterfall and stands up, letting the stream wash away the mess on his chest and face. It's loud, like white noise buzzing in his ears, soothing in a way. Between that and the orgasm, it's one of Harry's favourite afternoons since he ruined everything. The only thing that could make this better would be his coconut shampoo, or his vanilla bean body wash, or the lotion that smells like oranges. Or his fancy bath bombs. Fuck, those smell good.

When he thinks he's done he swims back to Louis, who's settled on a rock and scrubbing his legs. It takes a minute for Harry to be allowed to wash Louis' hair and feed him grapes, occasionally kissing his shoulder. It feels like a good time to bring up the burning issue. "So when you broke into my house, did you happen to catch a glimpse of my luxurious bathroom?"

Louis hums, rolling his neck. "No, I kept to the kitchen and the sex dungeon."

"Ah yes, the two places with knives," he says, nipping the crook of Louis' neck and making him shiver gently. "I wanna inform you, then, that my bathroom is very luxurious."

Louis tuts like he's still unimpressed. He's mildly appeased when Harry starts rubbing his shoulders, careful of the wings. "Does it have a waterfall?"

Harry frowns. "No, but there is a jacuzzi stream, and a rainfall shower head, and bath bombs. They like, dissolve and make nice smelling bubbles. Some of them make colours. Also speakers for my iPod, and a big tub. That might have been implied from the jacuzzi, but it really is a epically big—"

"Haz, not that I don't admire how serious you are about your bath habits, but why are you telling me all this?" Louis interrupts, opening his eyes to peer at him curiously.

"Well, I was just thinking… Since you can come out of the forest, why don't you?"

Louis shrugs. "Why would I?"

Harry bites his lip, wonders if just by asking he's insulting Louis' traditions or something. But he wants to play music for Louis and rub him down with strawberry kiwi oil and wrap him up in silk sheets and fuck him tenderly with a vibrator. None of which can happen in a forest. "For me?" he tries.

Louis reaches back to pat Harry's head. "Sounds boring, love."

Definitely not Ariel then. How can he be so fascinated by Harry but not want to be part of his world? He'd more likely trick Harry to move into the forest for real—oh. "Come on Lou, look at it as a sick prank." Louis doesn't dismiss him automatically, so Harry quickly adds, "Maybe it's a bad idea, though, since you couldn't pass for a human even if you tried."

Louis gives him a dirty look. Harry knows he just won.