Just a little warning: Louis is kind of a religious, snobby prude but it’s part of the story. Also, here is the character list.
Louis Tomlinson woke up five minutes before his alarm clock was meant to go off that Friday morning. It may have been a pure coincidence, or it may have been due to the fact that he had that art history test today (which he was going to pass with flying colors).
He didn't like to brag (yes, he actually kind of did), but he had been ‘student of the year’ ever since he came to St. Mark’s Private School in year 1. Now he was in his last year of school, ready to graduate and go to University in London to study economics like his father, and then take up the family business.
His father was the CEO of the biggest investment company in England and his mother was the best lawyer in the country. They got married a year before Louis was born and moved from London to Doncaster, where his father’s business took off. They bought a big mansion and gave birth to five more girls and a boy. They were also a big part of the Christian community in his town. They went to church every Sunday, where his parents were big donors, just like they were to his school.
So you could say everything Louis had came thanks to his parents. And he didn’t mind. He liked being spoiled, he liked being envied by his classmates and wanted by all the girls in his school. Of course, no matter how many girls wanted him, he’d always stay loyal to his girlfriend since year 7, Eleanor Calder. She was third best in his year, right after his best friend Liam Payne.
The three of them had big plans for the future: graduate on top of their class, move to London and study at Oxford.
The constant ringing of his alarm clock snapped Louis out of his daydreaming and he sighed as he slapped his palm against the top of it. He rolled out of bed before he went straight to the mirror to see if any kind of impurities appeared on his face overnight.
If he was the perfect student and son, he had to be perfect in looks too. The only thing he didn’t like about himself was his tummy and thick, woman thighs. His mother had hired a personal trainer a year ago, when things ‘started getting out of control with his eating habits’. To be honest, it wasn’t his fault that his parents (his parents’ chef to be more exact) put five different kinds of food on the table every day.
He turned sideways and placed a hand on his tummy, which was still there no matter what. He sucked it in, because that way his stomach seemed somewhat flat. He sighed and let the air out before he went into his dressing to pick out his shirt for the day. He had gotten a whole new wardrobe one month ago, right before school had started.
It pretty much consisted of button-up shirts, blazers, Tommy Hilfiger V-necks, tight jeans and suspenders. His shoes varied from TOMS to Converse (which he rarely wore) and his formal dress shoes that were part of his uniform.
After he had finished washing and dressing up he grabbed his already packed backpack and walked down the two long flights of marble stairs. He found his family already at the dining table, waiting for him so they could say their prayers before they began eating. He sat down next to Lottie and dropped the bag at the foot of the chair, before putting his hands together.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?” His mother asked, looking at him from across the table.
“Um, I don’t think so, no.” Louis answered as he cut his scrambled eggs. “Why?”
“Your dad and I have a party to attend in London tonight, so Elena will most probably come over to stay the night.”
Elena was their babysitter ever since Louis was a tot, and even though he could perfectly take care of himself at his age, the girls still needed supervision and Louis couldn’t be bothered with them.
After they finished eating one of the maids came to clean up and they made their way out of the house to the car that was waiting for them right outside, ready to take them to school. The twins were starting their third year there, Felicite was starting her seventh and Lottie her eighth.
When he got to school he couldn’t help but smile, feeling a lot of eyes on him. He adjusted his backpack and kept walking, sending a few smiles towards a group of girls who were huddled together, elbowing each other.
Ninth graders, he thought shaking his head.
He spotted Liam right outside his classroom, talking to Barbara Palvin and Eleanor. He knew Barbara; mainly because of her good looks, but also because there had been a rumor going around that she was sleeping with Niall Horan, the blonde Irish guy in year 12 that went to the public school right across the street.
If there was one thing Louis Tomlinson couldn’t stand, it was the fact that there was a public school across the street from St. Mark’s. It was a bit inconsiderate in his opinion, to put about two thousand people in a shitty building right across from the best school in Doncaster.
To make matters worse, his seat was right in the front of his classroom, right by the window so all he had to do was turn his head to the left and he could see the old building. He walked past it every single day to the spot where he was supposed to get picked up by his private chauffeur and he could say he was kind of disgusted.
Those kids had absolutely no manners; they were spitting on the ground, smoking in public, laughing loudly and swearing like sailors. They didn’t even wear uniforms and some of them had tattoos, which, in Louis’ opinion, was a complete waste of their bodies.
And besides, the fact that Barbara was (might be) having sex kind of stunned Louis, because his parents had taught him that it was best to wait until marriage. Eleanor and he had gotten promise rings a year ago, and he had no problem with just kissing and cuddling.
“What’s up?” Louis asked as he came to a halt next to them. “Hi, love.”
Eleanor greeted back and shortly pecked his lips before she intertwined their fingers.
“What are you talking about?”
“My birthday.” Barbara answered with a smile.
“When is it?”
“Oh. Happy birthday then.” He said, not really caring about the fact that he had forgotten his girlfriend’s best friend’s birthday.
“I’m throwing a party at my house tonight and I was just discussing the details with Liam and El.” Barbara told him. “My parents are out of town so we thought we might ask Liam’s sister to buy us champagne.”
“Taste of Diamonds, I hope.” Eleanor said and Barbara nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“But we can only get two bottles.”
“Should be enough. Who’s coming?” Louis asked.
“About fifty people.”
The bell rang then, announcing that their art history test was about to begin, but she managed to inform them that the party was going to start at seven and might last until after midnight. The dress code was something between casual and formal, and Louis already knew what he was wearing: his new red jeans, his white blouse and his blue TOMS.
He finished the test in thirty minutes, and after he got so bored he turned his head to stare at the school across the street. He sometimes wondered (rarely, when he was incredibly bored) how it would be to go to a public school. Did they even have heating? Did they have a pool and a cafeteria? How many bathrooms did they have? Were they even clean? Were people actually having sex in the bathrooms like that one time in a movie he had watched with Liam? How did they party? They probably drink the cheapest beer they can find and get high off the cheap cigarettes they steal from their parents.
Louis had never gotten drunk, or high for that matter, he had never even put a finger on cigarettes, and he wasn’t planning to, although he had once gotten a drag from his dad’s Gurkha cigar when they were on holiday in the Caribbean.
Once the class was over and the teacher collected their test papers, Louis smiled to himself and went over to Eleanor’s desk to talk to her about maybe staying the night after Barbara’s party. She agreed, obviously.
Louis fixed his collar one more time before he turned his back to the mirror to look at his massive bum. He absolutely hated it. It was official, his stomach and bum were his biggest (and only) flaws. And the tight, white jeans he was wearing didn’t help at all. Before he had time to change into a pair of larger chinos, there was a knock at his door and Esmeralda (one of the maids - the only one whose name Louis actually knew) announced him that Eleanor and her chauffeur were there to pick him up.
He couldn’t wait to turn eighteen in three months so he could finally get his drivers license and finally get that Lamborghini his father had promised him.
They arrived at Barbara’s house ten minutes later. It was definitely smaller than Louis’ but it was still nice and expensive looking. There were three cars lined up in front of the garage; a Bentley, a Bugatti Veyron and a brand new BMW with a red bow on it, which could only be Barbara’s birthday present.
They rang the bell and the gates opened after a few moments so they could walk up the long driveway to the front door. Barbara opened it and invited them in, before they each handed her the presents they bought (Louis got her a Tiffany’s necklace and Eleanor a pair of original leather gloves from Burberry) and kissed her on the cheek.
Once in the living room they could see about fifty people scattered all over the room, chatting and holding glasses filled with what could only be champagne. Louis licked his lips and asked Barbara to pour each of them a glass. Thirty minutes later he found himself on the couch between Barbara and Eleanor, talking about Mrs. Ridge, who obviously didn’t know how much eye shadow was too much.
That’s when they heard what seemed like a door slamming against the wall, the sound ringing through the whole house. Louis panicked for a moment, but then he saw Barbara smiling and getting up from the couch. He could hear yelling, cheering and some words in a thick Irish accent that made him cringe. He gasped when he saw about fifty more people fill the living room, and the moment he spotted the blonde boy in the corner, greeting Barbara with a kiss on the cheek while holding two six-packs of beer, he knew.
A Private School party had been crashed by a lot of public school students. He was going to lose it.
Harry Styles woke up to a massive hangover that Friday morning. His head was pounding and the room was spinning. He groaned as he looked at the time on his phone; it was half past nine. He’d already missed his first two classes, but he couldn’t be bothered.
Harry scratched his head as he sat up and looked around. There was a girl to his right, and a boy on his other side. Incomplete flashbacks of the threesome they had last night came into his mind.
He pushed the girl off the bed so he could get up and get dressed. He was in no mood for school if he was honest, but he had to attend at least ten classes a week; that was the ultimatum the principal had given him at the beginning of the year. Attend ten classes a week and you won't get expelled… fucking idiot.
He had moved from Holmes Chapel to Doncaster two years ago, because he got expelled for the second time from his old school, and his parents decided to get a divorce. He ended up with his mother, a baker at the local bakery a few blocks away from the small, cramped house they lived in, and with his sister who had been off to Uni for three years now, studying medicine and probably planning on never coming back. It was way worse than their house in Holmes Chapel, mainly because here he had a tiny room with a double bed and a desk he never used anyway.
Harry hated school with a passion and found it absolutely useless. He had failed last year, so he had to repeat the year for the second time in a row, which made him the oldest in his school. He didn’t plan on going to Uni anyway; they didn’t have the money for it. Harry had spent it all on his tattoos and drugs. The latest purchases he made were a lip ring and a brow piercing. He also had a tongue piercing which he occasionally took out.
After he woke the two up and sent them away, he managed to get in the shower and then dress up. He went with his usual outfit, a band t-shirt, black skinny jeans, a couple of black band bracelets to hide his scars (he didn’t do it often, just when he needed to take control of his shitty life) and the only pair of black Vans he owned. He had a few chucks but his mother had been meaning to wash them, so he couldn’t pick one of those.
His mom had left him a post it note on the fridge downstairs, telling him that she'd picked up an extra shift that night at the bakery. She also left him a twenty-pound bill to get him through the day, and Harry wondered if she knew that he was going to spend all of it on weed or if she just didn’t care anymore.
He left the house with a banana in his hand and his backpack slung over his right shoulder. Harry lived a bus station away from school, so he took it every day.
He glanced at the immense building across the street once he got down from the bus. He didn’t like a lot of things and a lot of people; just his mates and his mom (occasionally). But if there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was the snobby students that went to the private school across from his. He saw them almost every day (the days when he actually bothered to attend school), arriving and leaving in their cars that cost more than Harry’s entire life, throwing disgusted looks his way when they got out. They thought they were better than everyone else, but Harry knew better, they wouldn’t amount to much-or anything really, without their parent’s money.
He got to school right as the third period bell rang, so he decided to meet up with Zayn and Niall in their usual spot at the back of the building, where the smokers hung out. The school had a zero tolerance policy for smoking, drinking or any other drugs - Harry had a zero tolerance policy for stupid school rules. There were a few people already there when he arrived, but he quickly spotted Zayn and Niall in a corner, getting out their cigarettes.
Niall and Zayn came from normal families (as in, they had two parents, siblings and good financial situations at home). Harry could relate more to Zayn than Niall, mainly because they both had tattoos and liked to get high on a daily basis. Niall was more on the ‘getting drunk on a daily basis’ side, but he didn’t mind smoking a joint with them from time to time.
“Did you actually wash your hair?” Harry asked Niall as soon as he was within earshot of them.
They looked up at him. Niall rolled his eyes and Zayn was busy lighting up his cigarette.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Barbara’s birthday is today.” Niall said as Harry fished the cigarette pack out of his hoodie.
Barbara Palvin was probably the only person Harry liked that went to the school across the street. She was nice, knew how to have a good time and not to mention, she had an amazing body. Niall had met her a year ago during the summer break at some fancy club he’d managed to get in. They fucked that night, and continued doing it until Niall asked her out. Now here they were, two weeks from their one-year anniversary.
“And she invited you over?” Zayn asked suggestively, handing Harry the lighter.
Niall nodded, puffing out a smoke.
“She’s having a party.”
“A party? With her snobby rich friends?” Harry snorted.
Niall nodded again. “Don’t know if I want to go to be honest.”
“But you washed your hair!” Zayn protested, mocking him.
Harry handed Zayn the lighter back and winked at him as he did so.
“I got an idea.” Zayn said after a few seconds of silence. “Let’s crash the party.”
“You want to crash a private school party?” Harry laughed. “They’ll probably call the police as soon as they’ll see our tattoos, mate. And won’t Barbara get mad for crashing her prissy party, where all they do is drink champagne and laugh over people with less money than them?”
“Like you care.” Niall said. “And I don’t think she will. She doesn’t have a problem when she’s comin’ to our parties, so.”
“You in, then?” Zayn asked, turning his head to Harry, who shrugged.
“Don’t have anything better to do.”
“Are you taking anyone else to the party?”, Harry asked Niall.
“Just a couple of mates.”
Which meant that about a hundred people would probably end up coming too, since Niall was an extremely social guy with a lot of connections.
“What about alcohol?” Harry asked.
“They’ll probably only have champagne, as you said, so we’ll drop by Tesco to get some beer and Vodka.” Niall suggested, taking one last drag of his cigarette before letting it drop on the ground and stepping on it.
“I can bring Tequila and weed.” Zayn said.
“No coke?” Harry asked, a bit disappointed.
Harry pouted and Zayn’s eyes drifted to his lips for a moment, before the bell was heard.
“Later lads, if I don’t get in time for trig, Ms. Healey will have my head.” Niall said and patted them on the back before disappearing with almost everyone else that was out smoking.
Harry turned to Zayn, who was just finishing his cigarette.
“What do you have now?” Harry asked him before he took his last two drags.
“You hate it.”
Harry threw the cigarette over the fence.
“Skip with me.”
“You know why.” Harry answered and smirked before he walked Zayn back into the brick wall and leaned down to attach their lips.
Harry ended up on his knees a few minutes later and they were thirty minutes late to their classes, lips bruised red and hair disheveled.
Later that day, after Niall and Harry had gone to buy alcohol (four six-packs of beer, two bottles of Vodka and one of Jägermeister) with Niall’s money, they went to Niall’s house so he could change. Harry didn’t bother to, he still smelled good from the expensive cologne he’d stolen last month.
When they arrived in front of Barbara’s house, there were already about fifty people gathered on the front lawn, carrying booze, food and small bags of weed.
“Ah, mate this is going to be amazing! Party at a rich kid’s house, fuck!” Zayn said, excited, when Niall opened the door to the back yard with the key Barbara had given him a few months back so he could sneak in any time he wanted without her parents noticing.
“Please tell me that what I hear isn’t classical music.” Harry said to Zayn as they followed Niall across the huge back yard. Of course it had a pool and a bar.
“I think it is.” Zayn laughed and shook his head, just as Niall opened the door, letting it slam against the wall.
They were met by Barbara halfway to the living room, and as soon as Harry laid out eyes on the scene in front of him, he snorted.
Chandeliers hanging from the ceiling lightened the room, two bottles of the most expensive champagne in the world (Harry knew that for a fact) were popped open on the table and people were literally chatting while actually listening to classical music.
This had to be a joke, but the expressions on their faces were definitely funnier.
Louis didn’t react at first. He was speechless, and that didn’t happen often. There were actual public school kids in Barbara’s living room, wearing ripped skinny jeans, extremely short skirts and obscene tops.
He was completely appalled by the amount of alcoholic drinks that were placed on the dining table, and the number of red cups that were being lined up next to it. They probably weren’t even sanitary.
God knows where they’d stolen it from.
He looked around to make sure he wasn’t the only one who was in shock, and was quite relieved when he saw that he wasn’t. It didn’t take longer than a minute for the room to turn almost dark - the only light being the small lamps that changed color every three minutes - and for the public school kids to start dancing and laughing with red cups in their hands.
Louis was surprised and a bit angry when he saw some of his classmates actually taking cups from the table, fill them with god-knows-what and join the improvised dance floor. Eleanor shrugged when she saw Barbara literally drinking out of a beer bottle she was sharing with Niall while grinding on him.
“This is outrageous!” Louis whispered to Eleanor and followed her to the table where she poured herself a cup of something called ‘Bacardi Breezer’.
He heard a laugh behind him and immediately turned around, ready to tell whoever was laughing at him to fuck off.
Louis was completely shocked to see a guy that was probably a head taller staring down at him with an amused look on his face. He was wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt which showed off his muscular biceps that were covered in tattoos from his shoulders all the way down to his fingertips. He also had a lip ring, and an eyebrow piercing.
“Can I help you?” Louis snapped, propping one hand on his hip.
The guy shook his head. “Just trying to get some Vodka, but you’re in my way.”
Oh, he apparently had a tongue piercing too. How lovely. Louis stepped aside to give the guy better access to the table. He watched him place a tiny shot glass on the table, before he filled it with Vodka and downed it in two seconds.
“Want to try one?”
“No, thank you. I have to go find my girlfriend.”
The guy’s eyebrows shot up and he smirked, but Louis was already turning around and walking towards Eleanor who was sitting on the couch again. He sat down next to her and she smiled at him, placing the empty red cup on the table that was somehow filled with phones that definitely cost less than Louis’ current outfit put together and several packs of cigarettes.
God knows where they stole those.
“Louuuuis.” Eleanor giggled and Louis turned to look at her. She was probably already tipsy considering she never had alcohol in her life, so her tolerance was minimal at best.
And he did, because she was grabbing his collar and yanking him forwards. He took her bottom lip between his and sucked on it; he didn’t even try to lick across her lips so they could properly make out-they’d never done that. Eleanor was always wearing expensive lipstick or lip-gloss and that would ruin it, so he settled for just repeated kissing, sometimes sucking and biting her lips, but that was it.
As far as he knew (and he knew alright), nobody except of Barbara and two guys in another class had had sex before. Everyone else was waiting for marriage, and that was fine with Louis.
When he pulled away from Eleanor he was surprised to see her shifting closer to him on the couch and placing a kiss on his neck. He knew it was supposed to make him feel good, but it was literally as if his mother had kissed his cheek. And that worried him a bit, but he didn’t make much of it.
A few minutes later he was being pushed into Eleanor, who was squashed against the armrest and ten other people settled on the two couches around the coffee table as the rest of them kept dancing or even…making out in the corners. Louis was astonished. He recognized the tall guy with piercings from earlier, sitting between some black haired guy with a quiff and Barbara, who was sitting next to Niall, who was sitting next to Louis.
He immediately knew what they were intending to do once he saw the black haired guy pulling out a small box and another guy he didn’t know placing three bags of weed on the table.
They’re doing drugs. They’re doing illegal drugs right under my nose.
Louis had no idea how to react to all of this, he couldn’t move. All he could do was stare at the black haired guy with tattoos peeking out of his leather jacket as he started rolling joints.
“Zayn, mate, hurry up.” Niall said, and placed a hand on Barbara’s thigh, running it up and down.
“’M not a fucking octopus, yeah?” Zayn replied and Louis frowned at the swear words. He didn’t know anybody who actually talked like that. His parents had taught him better than that.
Everyone around the table got a joint, except Louis and Eleanor, who shook their heads when Niall offered them some.
Louis couldn’t help but get angry when he heard the pierced guy snort and laugh, muttering an ‘of course’. He was fine with watching them (a bit amazed - even though he would never admit it) as they slowly got high and started laughing; chatting while the smoke filled the air.
“Harry, mate.” Zayn said before he took a long drag and turned to the pierced guy, who was apparently named Harry.
Louis didn’t even have time to let it sink in, because he gasped when he saw Zayn gripping into the back of Harry’s neck and pull him to his lips, both boys opening their mouths against each other’s.
That is…that’s gay! Are they gay?
When they pulled away, Harry let out the smoke that had previously been in Zayn’s mouth out of his own. Why was Louis the only one shocked over the fact that two boys practically kissed each other?
He stood up after a while because he felt like the smoke was starting to cling to his clothes and that was honestly the last thing he needed right now. He focused on Eleanor, who was practically taped to his side, running a hand up his thigh and giggling into his ear. She had taken a few drags from Niall’s offered joint and was now incredibly amused.
It irritated Louis a bit, and he was caught by surprise when she literally palmed him through his pants, which, again, should’ve made him feel good, but it didn’t. He could feel a couple of people watching them and the moment he saw Harry shake his head in amusement, he stood up from the couch, excusing himself to the bathroom.
Louis splashed his face with cold water and after he dried his hands off on a towel, he adjusted his fringe in the mirror, and walked out the door.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw two guys furiously making out against the wall across from the bathroom, and he immediately recognized Zayn and Harry. He felt stupefied at the sight, and for some reason his pants were starting to get tighter.
He quickly made his way past them and back into the living room to find Liam and maybe Eleanor. He wanted to go home if he was being quite honest, he wasn’t feeling the party anymore. There were people all over the living room, sweaty and grinding against each other, smoking and drinking.
Louis gripped his girlfriend’s arm and she looked at him through her lashes, smiling lazily.
“What’s up, Lou?” she asked, smoothing her hand over her Chanel dress.
“It’s almost midnight, maybe we should get back? People from our school are starting to leave.”
Eleanor looked around to see that in fact everyone besides Barbara had already left and the place was taken over by the kids from the public school.
“Sure, let’s go. But can you grab our coats from the coat room?” She asked, and nodding he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Louis found the coat room a few minutes later, the door right by the staircase that led up to the first floor. When he opened the door, he let out a yelp because this couldn’t be happening to him. It just couldn’t.
Louis had literally walked in on Harry fucking Zayn against the wall of the coatroom, face buried in his neck as he let out pornographic moans. They stopped to look at him and Louis reacted immediately; he made his way to the coat hangers, pulled the coats off and literally ran out of the room, scarred for life.
He decided not to tell Eleanor about it, and as they were driven back to his house he wondered what did everyone else think about two boys doing something a man was supposed to do with his wife.
He was having a bit of an inner crisis that night when they were spooning in Louis’ bed (Louis was always the little spoon, mainly because Eleanor always liked to be in control and was an inch taller than him), because he didn’t find it as disgusting as his parents - and everyone he knew for that matter - had told him.
It was moments like these that he was grateful for being the little spoon, because his cock was hard in his cotton pyjamas and as much as he’d like to relieve the tension, he knew that touching himself was a sin, so he ended up going to bed with an erection, something that had never happened to him before.
He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.