HARRY'S P.O.V.


I haven't been able to stop thinking about that man I saw in Mr. Malik's class. The rest of the day is going by in a blur. Lunch was uneventful and the rest of my classes have been boring as hell. Nothing can compare to that beautiful face appearing in the doorway.

I've only had one class so far without Niall or Liam. It was history and it was entirely monotonous, or maybe it wasn't, but I wouldn't know because all I thought of was his perfect arse. I imagined what the tattoo on his arm was of, since I only got a glimpse. I want to know everything about him, but it would be nice to start off with his name. There has to be a non-creepy way of finding that out. I still don't know exactly why he was here. Sure, he seems to be friends with Mr. Malik, but they only spoke for a couple minutes. He couldn't have driven to our school just for that. Why, then?

"Psst. Harry. What has been your problem today?"

Liam pokes my shoulder and I come back from my daze, finding myself in Chemistry.

"Nothing. I'm tired."

"Uh huh."

He leans over and whispers something to his girlfriend who is sitting on the other side of him. I feel closeness from my other side and turn to find Abby about a foot away to my right.

"Are you going to the Autumn party?"

"Jesus, everyone seems to want to know."

"Well, yeah. You're our friend, Harry, and we want you to go!"

Niall had to have put her up to this. I turn to look back at the teacher who is writing useless things on the board.

"Nah, I'm not going."

"How come?"

"I just don't want to."

She doesn't say anything and I finally look back at her.

"I don't buy that, Harry."

I've always liked Abby, not in the way Niall likes her, but she's easy to talk to and maybe that's
what I need.

"Can we talk about it later?"

She seems surprised that I've given in at all.

"And you can't tell Niall anything."

"I promise, Harry. You know you can trust me."

I know what she's referring to and roll my eyes, knowing that she's right. To this day, she hasn't told a soul about the time three years ago when she caught me jacking off in the bathroom at a football match. I never had anything against her, she just never told anyone.

Then again, she never knew that I did it because one of the senior footballer's shorts hung on him quite nicely. I always pushed that out of my head, though.

"We can talk at my place tonight."

She pats my shoulder and nods in agreement. God, what have I gotten myself into?


LOUIS' P.O.V.


The office is quiet and I really don't like it. The door is locked because I don't have any appointments today. I should probably take care of some paperwork, but I want to leave that for the last minute so I don't make it home for dinner. I turn my computer on and play The Eagles a little louder than someone normally would in their workplace.

I lean back in my chair and let my mind drift to the question that has been bugging me since I was at Cheshire Academy this morning: Who is Harry Styles and why does he look familiar?

My mind mulls over his stunning features in my memory.

Green eyes; definitely green. They're like a light forest green, the color of an herb or something. Sage?

His lips. God, they're perfectly pink and plump. He probably nibbles on them a lot because they seems moist.

His skin is like porcelain, but a bit tanner.

Oh, and that hair. The way his chocolate curls frame his face are enough to drive me wild.

Suddenly I realize that my hand is on my package, palm slowly circling the firm area in my suit pants.

I start to think of those features in a different way.

His deep green eyes looking up at me innocently as he holds my length in his grip.

I fumble with my belt and unbutton my slacks pulling them down with my pants desperately to my knees, closing my eyes and holding my member as I imagine Harry doing it instead. His hands are probably big if he's great at the piano; long, precise fingers.

His beautiful, rose tinted lips parted, hot breath against my tip before he takes me in.

I start to stroke myself, surprised by how hard I am without any contact thus far. The thought of him is enough. I gather pre-come with my thumb from the tip and spread it over my length.

His soft curls brushing over my thighs and tickling my stomach as he bobs his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks and sliding his tongue along my stiff cock.

"Fuck."

I surprise myself by being audible. I never make noise when I'm just wanking by myself. The noise is typically either for someone or because of someone. This time, that certain someone isn't even present, but I close my eyes tighter, pretending that he is.

"Oh, Harry!"

It's the first time I've spoken his name aloud and it rolls off my tongue fluidly. I'll admit it feels good coming out of my mouth.

I start to thrust my hips upward, my leather office chair moving with every hard pump of my hand as I think of the beautiful boy I've never spoken to. I imagine fucking his pretty mouth, his eyes watering a bit as he moans against me in the back of his throat.

I wonder what his voice sounds like. I'm sure it's sexy based on the deep, raspy laugh I heard from him in the courtyard. I'm sure his moans are similar. I'll bet he's loud.

His milky skin melting into mine as he holds my thigh, leaving bruises from his tight grip.

"Oh, fucking hell. S-so good."

The chair begins to squeak as I roll my hips faster and harder into my hand, feeling a build-up in my stomach unlike ever before. My body starts to shake and I picture Harry gagging against me, humming in delight as he takes me in deep. Soon my mouth is gaping and whimpers escape as I feel warm liquid cover my hand, dripping down toward my stomach. I open my eyes, but lights and stars are blocking my vision. It soon subsides as I come down from my high and I stand up once I feel balanced enough to do so, hurrying to the bathroom, my dress pants hanging at my knees.

I clean off with paper towels and tissues before tucking my shirt back into my slacks, making myself look presentable again. I don't remember clawing at my hair, but the state it's in says otherwise. I push it around and stare myself down in the mirror. Did I really just get off to the thought of a high school senior sucking me off? A male high school senior, at that. I take a deep breath and chuckle to myself in disbelief. Well, it's done now.

I turn around and throw away the paper towels I used and thought reasonably to myself that it would probably happen again. Harry Styles has already wormed his way into my thoughts and I've never even spoken to him. It's actually beginning to scare me a little, but I don't need to worry. I'll just watch him from afar. I walk back to my desk in perfect timing to reach for my phone as it rings.

"Tomlinson Family Law, this is Louis."

"Hey, punk."

It's my brother, Henri.

"I should check caller ID more often so I can avoid talking to you."

If he were here, I would stick my tongue out at him like a child.

"Yeah, yeah. How's the office?"

"Same as ever. Boring. How's Bath?"

"Also pretty boring, but the wife and kids deserved a little something."

"I highly doubt the kids are enjoying Bath. I'm sure that's all about Jennifer."

He chuckles sarcastically and grows quieter, practically whispering into the phone.

"You think anyone else has a say in where we go?"

I laugh again, knowing full well how controlling my sister-in-law is. She's good for Henri, though.

"Anyway, I need you to look at a file for me real quick. I can't even remember the official date for their hearing and this client has been calling my mobile like crazy. I don't want to sound like an idiot and not remember anything-"

I stand up and walk over to the large filing cabinets. All of our clients have a file on the computer, but dad likes to have hard copies as well. I'll never admit it after the fight I put up to even have an electronic filing system, but I like shuffling through the physical files much better.

"Last name?"

"Stone, Jacob."

I open the 'S' cabinet and shuffle from the back up since the second letter is a 'T'. My fingers
stop at a different name, though. Styles. Styles, Des.

"Did you find it, Lou?"

I pull out the file and set it aside, continuing to sift through for the one Henri needs. I soon find it and pull it out.

"Uh, yeah, here it is."

"Give me a re-cap."

I want so badly to end this conversation so I can find out if Des Styles has any relation to my Harry. Well, not my Harry; just Harry.

"Um, divorce settlement, loads of notes on his wife... Looks like you drew a crude picture of her cleavage-"

"Oh! I remember that one now! Court date is the seventh of October, right?"

I look down the page and chuckle to myself because he's right. Of course he remembers his raunchy doodles and not the client's name.

"Yep!"

"Got it. Thanks bro."

"Yeah, see you next week."

"Bye!"

I hang up and return the Stone file to it's place before grabbing the one I'm really interested in and sitting down at my desk. I place the folder down and look it over. It's old, for sure. I wonder why we still have it. The case must still have some missing pieces.

I open it up and skim the first page, noticing that it's from ten years ago; 2003. I was interning with my dad then. This file covers divorce papers filed by our client, Des Styles' wife, Anne. I flip through and finally realize why this file is so thick and still in our possession. The last will and testament of our client pertained to the case as it was changed when his wife divorced him.
Instead of leaving part of his fortune to his wife, he plans to leave it all to his two children, Gemma and Harry.

Harry Styles.

It's all starting to flood back.

He was just a kid; almost eight, I suppose. He clutched onto his sister's arm everywhere they went and didn't speak to anyone. I only saw him a few times, since the children weren't present for any official court dates, but they did make a statement that neither parent was abusive.
Des was a busy man, though. A busy, powerful, extremely wealthy man. He owned some large company in America and was never around. Therefore, Anne won custody without much of a battle. I never felt bad for my client though; he seemed to think he could buy his kids' love with possessions. I disliked him for that and always secretly hoped his wife would win whatever she wanted, even though we were defending Des.

I mentally kick myself for not placing Harry's name with this case sooner as it's so clear in my head now. I flip through a lot of pointless information and make it to the last page of the man's will before seeing anything else that stands out to me. Maybe I'm just too lazy, so I skip to the summary.

"To my son Harry, I leave all of my business assets and my home in New York, as well as fifty
percent of my net worth..."

I skipped through a part about leaving Gemma with his home in London, as well as a yacht that was docked in Greece and the other half of his money.

"None of the aforementioned beneficiaries will hear from me or know of my whereabouts until this will becomes useful. If, by my own accord, I contact my children, they will be unaware of my financial situations and will not know of their future prospects."

What an asshole. I'm sure Harry lives a comfortable life, but, at some point, he's going to inherit a whole lot of shit he won't know what to do with.
Then again, maybe his father wants him to grown up under reasonable circumstances so that such large sums of money won't change his attitude. Maybe he expects it to make him more grateful that way.

I toss the file aside and run my hands through my hair.

"I really need to stop thinking about this kid."

Great, now I'm talking to myself. I shake my head and close the file, walking over and returning to it's spot in the cabinet. I pace the floor and try to think of something else. Anything else.


HARRY'S P.O.V.


The car ride home was uneventful, but as soon as I parked in my driveway and the girls pulled in behind us, Niall and Liam began to bicker about who I should ask to the Autumn party. Again.

"Guys, stop! I don't want to go!"

Abby walks over and playfully smacks the back of Niall's head.

"Yeah, come on boys. He doesn't know anyone he wants to ask!"

Niall rubs his head as if she actually hurt him.

"What about that girl from homeroom? She was really pretty!"

Liam turns to Ellery, assuring she isn't offended by his compliment to an unknown girl. She isn't.

"She's pretty, but I don't know her. She's in gym with me, too, by the way. Her name's Emma."

Niall drapes his arm over my shoulder and his tone becomes a little too serious.

"It's obviously meant to be, Harry."

I shrug him off and make my way through my friends to unlock the front door. They all pile in behind me and Liam and Niall run up the stairs, squabbling the whole way to the game room.
I walk into the kitchen and the girls follow. I know exactly why, but I'm not sure that I can talk about this in front of Ellery. I don't know her as well as Abrielle.
I sit on the counter and give a wide-eyed glance at Abby. She seems to get the idea and turns to face Ellie.

"El, can you go upstairs with the boys? It's nothing personal, but I need to talk to Harry."

Ellery grins kindly and nods eagerly.

"Of course. Bring snacks when you're done."

We both agree and Abby joins me on the counter.

"So, spill the beans, Hazz."

I lean back against the cabinets and bang my head lightly against it a few times. I don't even know what I planned to say to the one girl I can trust, but before I can think it through, I blurt out my deep inner thoughts, the ones I haven't even come to terms with yet.

"Abby, I think I'm gay."

Notes

WOW! I updated all of my stories in the past 24 hours (give or take) and DAMN it feels good :D haha.

Ahhh!!! I'm having a blast writing this story. I hope you are enjoying it, even though I know it's only on chapter 3! lol

Please comment and subscribe/rate if you haven't already. If you subscribe, you should get alerts when I post a new update (even though I know some of my readers haven't been getting regular alerts. I hope that doesn't become a problem for you all. xx Thank you for reading, my lovelies! <3 <3 Much love.