#tobethemselves | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingsofeverything · 1 year ago

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I’m interested! Can you post The fake relationship for a work party? 🫶

Thank youuu 💛 Yes! This is based on a tumblr post that I can’t find now.

Anyone who reads this, remember it’s unfinished, unedited, etc.

And here’s the list of other WIPs

“Yes. Yes, sir. Sounds great. We’ll see you then,” Louis says, and waits for his boss to hang up first. As soon as he does, Louis slumps in his ergonomically designed desk chair and sighs.

He never meant to lie to his boss. It’s not the sort of thing he normally does. But when he first started the job almost a year before, his boss asked if he had a girlfriend or a boyfriend, and his brain couldn’t keep up with his mouth. He answered as if it was a multiple choice question instead of a yes or no question, accidentally outing himself as well. Thankfully his boss just smiled and nodded and told Louis to bring his boyfriend along to happy hour at the bar around the corner.

That first day, Louis went out after work with his new boss and coworkers like a dutiful employee who desperately wanted to keep his job. It turns out that, for a group of accountants, they’re a rather wild bunch. And at almost twenty-eight years old, with a good bit of bartending through college, Louis is… not so wild.

He had more than his fair share of booze and boys over the last decade or so, but as he’s gotten older, his hangovers have gotten worse, and his tastes have changed. Now he much prefers a glass of wine with dinner (two on weekends), video games or movies on the couch (the ability to pause and go pee is underrated), and a ten o’clock bedtime (midnight on weekends). He does go out occasionally, usually with his best friend and roommate Harry, though with his schedule at the bakery, they tend to stay in more. But Louis hasn’t had time to date, really. Or hasn’t made time. He hasn’t found a guy who can give his comfy couch any competition.

But his boss doesn’t know any of that because Louis had the brilliant idea that first evening out after his first day on the job, to use an imaginary boyfriend as an excuse to leave early. He’s done the same every single night out since. Sometimes he’ll stop in for one drink and make a joke about getting home before his boyfriend goes to bed. But most of the time he successfully uses his imaginary boyfriend’s odd work schedule as a reason to skip out on everything. Even the annual company picnic in the park the previous summer.

When he started the lie, he kept it bland and boring, with no details about his imaginary boyfriend or his job. Less than a month into it, Louis started to elaborate. First, mentioning Harry by name, and then dropping little details into conversations. It was easy when no one knew Harry and Louis knew Harry wouldn’t be stopping by his office or anything like that when it’s way across town from the bakery and their apartment. And it wasn’t as if Harry would care. He’d probably think it was funny. So Louis just kept his little lies to himself, not wanting to burden Harry with keeping an unnecessary secret.

Now he’s backed himself into a corner. Because his boss gave him plenty of notice and has practically begged Louis to bring Harry to the company holiday party.

So he has less than a month to find a new job.

Louis flicks his finger against the clip art of the printed invitation, eyes darting around the office to check that no one is watching him, not that they’d be able to see his text conversation. Still he backs up to the far wall of his cubicle, the one that’s actually a wall and not a partition, and sends a quick message.

Louis: Need a favor

He bites his lip, staring at the screen, but a reply comes almost immediately.

Harry: What

Louis: Come to my company xmas party and pretend to be my boyfriend and I’ll give you $20

Harry: What

Louis: $20 and a $20 Starbucks gift card to pretend to be my boyfriend for one night and not ask why

No dots appear. Louis blinks at his phone, trying to will Harry to agree.

Harry: $20 and a $20 Starbucks card, a foot massage, buy me sushi for dinner, and you have to take the trash out without complaining about it for the next year. And we’re talking about this when you get home tonight. I might need to add to my list of demands.

Louis: Ok

If that’s all Harry asks of him, he’ll gladly give it.

—

“Hello, darling,” Louis says the second he opens the door and sees Harry laying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. The hood of his sweatshirt is pulled tight around his face so that only his eyes and nose are visible. He looks tired, but comfortable and warm. “That’s my hoodie you’re wearing.”

“Finders keepers.” Harry loosens the strings of his hoodie to uncover his pout, pushing it back off his head. With a quick pat to the couch cushion, he says, “Come sit.”

Kicking off his shoes, Louis drapes his coat over the back of the couch. Harry lifts his head, and Louis sits, waiting for him to lay back down so he can comb his fingers through Harry’s curls.

The weight of Harry’s hand against his shin is warm even through his trousers. Harry reaches down and slips his fingertips under the hem, pushing down Louis’ socks and scratching lightly at the hair on his ankles. He sighs and his breath is hot on Louis’ thigh. “Explain, please.”

Louis starts at the beginning. It’s less embarrassing than he expected it to be. He really thought Harry would give him hell for lying to his boss. But he doesn’t even seem mad that Louis lied to him. He listens quietly to Louis’ explanation, humming and nodding occasionally, rubbing circles over Louis’ ankle, and not speaking until Louis is finished.

“Since you started the job in January?” Harry asks, tapping his fingers against the back of Louis’ calf.

“Yeah.” Louis holds his breath.

“What if you’d like, met someone and wanted to bring them to the party?” Harry glances up at him. “You would’ve just like, imaginarily broken up with me? And I never would’ve known.”

“Suppose so,” Louis says, exhaling and tracing the curve of Harry’s ear with his eyes. “I haven’t been on a date in forever though.”

“True.”

While Louis twirls Harry’s curls around his finger, he thinks back to his last date. It was a few months after they moved into the new apartment, right before he put in his notice at his old job. The guy hadn't been awful or anything, Louis just found himself wondering why he’d bothered leaving the house halfway through dinner. And Harry can’t really say anything when he’s been “quite happily single, thank you very much” for going on two years now.

Finally, Harry says, “I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.” Harry rolls onto his back, looking up and meeting Louis’ eyses. He catches his lower lip between his teeth, studying Louis’ face. “Do you have a plan?” When Louis shakes his head, Harry says, “Okay, so… You haven’t really lied about anything other than like, calling me your boyfriend. I’m not like, pretending to be someone I’m not, so it’ll be easy. I’ll just be me, but like, with hand holding and kissing and stuff.”

“What?” Louis frowns down at him. “Why kissing?”

“Please, Louis. This is an office party. There’s always mistletoe.” Harry rolls his eyes and sits up, hair standing in all directions from Louis’ attention. “I don’t mean, like, making out or whatever you’re thinking. But…” Slowly, Harry leans in, licking his lips and Louis’ eyes track the movement. He glances up holding Harry’s gaze as he presses a slow, gentle kiss to his parted lips.

Instantly, Louis’ face heats. “What… Why’d you do that?”

Harry snorts. “The party’s tomorrow and we’re supposed to have been dating for more than a year, Louis. You can’t blush and stutter if I peck you on the lips.”

“It’s not… I didn’t…” Louis holds his hands to his cheeks, trying to cool his heated skin.

“I’ll be your fake boyfriend, Lou, but you clearly haven’t thought this through.” Sitting back against the armrest, Harry takes a breath and blows it out, puffing his cheeks. “We have to like, practice kissing under the mistletoe.”

Narrowing his eyes, Louis lowers his hands, though his cheeks still feel flushed. “I feel like that’s probably unnecessary.”

“Nope. Totally necessary.” Pushing himself up off the couch, Harry yawns, then says, “I’m exhausted. I’ve got an early morning, and a party to possibly attend.”

“Possibly?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, I mean, like I said, I’ll do it, but not if you’re going to argue with me about the like, logistics.”

“Logistics?”

Harry nods, stretching his arms overhead so that Louis’ hoodie lifts up and Harry’s sweatpants slip down. Louis almost misses Harry’s response, but he leans down and ruffles Louis’ hair, drawing his attention. “I’ll only be your fake date if you make out with me — with tongue — for two whole minutes.”

“What?” Louis jumps up from the couch.

“Two minutes,” Harry says, shuffling off towards the kitchen so that Louis has to follow him. He reaches for the tin of mints he keeps in the junk drawer and pops one into his mouth, holding the container out towards Louis. “Mint?” While Louis takes a mint, Harry pulls out his phone and sets a two minute timer, showing the face of his phone to Louis. He loudly chews his mint, swallows it, and taps the start button on the timer.

That is apparently what Louis needs to convince him that Harry isn’t joking. He hurries to swallow the mint in his mouth, and almost chokes, while Harry lounges against the counter, arms crossed, smirking like he doesn’t think Louis will do it. The timer doesn’t make a sound, but Louis can see it ticking away on the screen of Harry’s phone, and it suddenly feels like now or never.

Reaching out, Louis tugs on the strings of Harry’s hoodie — Louis’ hoodie, but finders keepers, apparently — twisting them around his fingers and pulling Harry down to meet him just as he moves fully into Harry’s space. He steps to either side of Harry’s crossed ankles, and Harry drops his arms, grabbing onto the counter with both hands, fingers curling over the edge. Harry’s eyes flicker down and Louis brings their lips together, releasing his hold on the hoodie to cup Harry’s face with both hands.

Two whole minutes, with tongue, Harry said.

Behind his closed eyelids, Louis rolls his eyes. He tilts his head slightly to the right, stroking his thumb over Harry’s jaw and guiding him to meet him, their lips parting at the same time. Harry hums, pushing off the counter, forcing Louis to take a step backwards. He grips Louis’ hips, steadying him, and Louis grabs hold of his shoulders, still feeling unsteady. Mostly that’s due to Harry’s mouth on his because of course he’s a good kisser. He sucks on Louis lip, one hand pressing into the curve Louis’ lower back, the other creeping towards Louis’ ass, when the alarm on Harry’s phone blares and they both jump backwards.

“That wasn’t totally horrible, was it?” Harry asks, slightly breathless.

Louis shakes his head, because it wasn’t, but also because he’s known Harry for a while and never thought to kiss him before and he doesn’t know why. Definitely not horrible. He reaches for the fridge in search of a distraction and something cold to drink.

“Okay, so, I’m going to bed.” Harry snatches Louis’ water bottle from him and takes a sip before handing it back. “Don’t worry about your boss or whoever. I think we know each other well enough that we won’t have any trouble convincing them we’re together.”

“So you’re in?” Louis asks, taking a step back and gulping his water. He raises his eyebrows and says, “You’re going to make this fake dating au a success?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, scrunching his nose. He pulls his hood back over his messy curls and says, “I suppose I need to wear a suit.”

Louis shakes his head, pulling Harry’s hoodie strings again, this time so tightly that Harry’s nose is all that’s visible, tapping it lightly with the tip of his finger. “Wear whatever you want. Glitter, lace, a tux, a dress…”

“Okay,” Harry mumbles through the fabric of his sweatshirt and Louis pulls on the hoodsweatshirt until he can see Harry’s face againthe hood falls off. “’Night, Lou.”

“’Night, darling,” Louis says, tucking Harry’s hair behind his ear.

——

Louis spends all day Friday working from home and regretting the past year of his life.

In the late afternoon, Harry comes home with shopping bags, and Louis finds himself grinning at him like a loon. He catches himself mid-sigh, and freezes, eyes going from almost closed the force of his too big smile, to wide open, and jerks his head around to stare back at the television.

“Sorry I’m late,” Harry says, rustling his shopping bags before dropping them onto the couch beside Louis. “Realized I didn’t have anything to wear to an office Christmas party.”

“You don’t have to dress up.” Louis turns and pulls his feet up, watching Harry unwrap his scarf and take off his hat. Combing his fingers through his hair, Harry scratches his scalp, stuffing the beanie into the pocket of his coat.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” Harry stops, coat dangling off his arms. He hurriedly joins Louis on the couch, and says, “I meant to text you earlier. I thought about it today and I think I’ll need some time to like, get into character. I meant to give you some warning. Sorry. But, um… I’m officially your fake boyfriend as of right now.”

“Now?” Louis frowns, reaching for one of Harry’s shopping bags, but Harry smacks his hand away. There are still X hours until the party.

“Yes, sir.” Harry nods and winks, which Louis always finds annoyingly endearing, because he’s never sly about it, always obnoxious and over-the-top dramatic, with accompanying sound effects and open mouth. “I need a shower. You coming with me?” Before Louis can register what he said, Harry barks a laugh.

Standing and gathering his bags, he walks around and looks down at Louis from behind the couch. Louis tips his head back, about to ask Harry if he plans on being a pain in the ass as of right now, too, and if that’ll carry on all night at the party, but Harry bends down and kisses him before he can speak. It’s no two minute kitchen make out session with tongue, but it’s unexpected, and somehow, even at an angle, Louis’ barely open mouth lines up perfectly with Harry’s cold, peppermint chapstick flavored lips.

Harry walks away and Louis is left there, the tips of his fingers hovering in the air in front of his mouth. The tingling doesn’t dissipate when he finally touches his lips.

Perhaps a better use of his day would’ve been shopping for himself or even sorting through his own clothes in an effort to find something to wear to the party, rather than simultaneously regretting his life choices and trying to figure out when the hell he developed these feelings for Harry and why he didn’t notice them before.

While Harry showers, Louis rifles through his closet, searching for magically hidden clothing that he’s forgotten owning or buying. All he finds is a black blazer and his fitted black trousers — the ones that he never wears anymore because they’re a bit snug. No one’s looking at his bum when he sits behind a desk all day. His deep red scoop neck t-shirt seems festive enough, but he refuses to do more than put on deodorant and blow dry his wet hair after he showers.

It’s a sort of penance for jacking off to the memory from the kitchen the night before. He had to do it. No question.

Harry seems to be all in with this fake boyfriend thing and Louis is powerless to stop it, which means that if Harry’s as big a proponent of PDA as he suspects, he’s going to spend the duration of the party touching Louis in one way or another. However innocent the intention, Harry’s hand in his all night would still give him a boner eventually. God forbid Louis rest his palm on Harry’s lower back.

So he pregamed it a bit. Tired himself out. That way, Harry can kiss him under as much mistletoe as he likes and no matter how red Louis’ cheeks get, at least he’s less likely to spring an erection in the middle of his office Christmas party.

Louis adjusts his hair in his reflection in the bathroom mirror, flicking it off his forehead. He steps out of the bathroom just as Harry opens his bedroom door and they both stop short as Harry drops his coat.

“Oops,” Harry says, but Louis catches it before it hits the floor.

“Hi.” Louis tries to see as much of Harry as he can in the few seconds he allows himself to look.

“That’s very boyfriendy of you, Louis,” Harry comments as he slips his arms into his waiting coat. Louis brushes the backs of his shoulders, straightening Harry’s coat, though it doesn’t need it.

“I try,” Louis says, wondering if he should behave any differently towards Harry. Maybe he ought to change the way he talks to him or acts in his presence as a boyfriend rather than just Louis. He drums his fingers against his stomach and smooths his brow, unsure what he’d need to do differently.

The walk to the subway is colder than Louis thought it’d be, which is typical of him in any winter weather. Harry’s always telling him he should wear more layers. He keeps his hands in his coat pockets, balling them into fists until Harry tugs on his elbow, pulling his hand free.

Even without gloves, Harry’s hands are warm, or at least warmer than his own. He holds Louis’ hand between both of his as they walk, forcing Louis to stay close by his side until they reach the first step leading them underground. Louis follows, keeping his eyes glued to the back of Harry’s head where the ends of his hair curls over his scarf.

The party is being held at the same bar around the corner from the office where everyone else goes for happy hour. As soon as they walk through the door, Louis takes their coats, and when he turns back around, Harry passes him a beer.

“Introduce me,” Harry mutters, slipping his arm around Louis’ waist, and tucking his hand through the vent in the back of Louis’ blazer so that it rests on Louis’ hip.

Turning at the warmth and weight of Harry’s palm, Louis finds Harry already leaning towards him, making it easy for Louis to mutter, “Mr. Davidson is my boss. He’s at the end of the bar. Blue jacket, glass of whisky?”

Harry nods and smiles and proceeds to charm every person in the room. It’s completely unsurprising, but Louis is annoyed at how well he plays the part.

“So what else is there? Someone has to get drunk and dance on a table.” Harry props his hands on his hips and twists at the waist, looking around the room. His eyes go comically wide and his lips form a perfect O. “Presents, Louis. There are presents over there. Were we supposed to bring something?”

“Don’t worry about it. Didn’t want to bother you, so I picked up another $20 Starbucks card.”

Clearly affronted at the thought, Harry gasps and squeezes Louis’ upper arm. “You know I love gift exchanges.”

“Yeah, but there wasn’t a lot of time. Sorry. I—”

“Next time,” Harry says, frowning at the envelopes (?) when Louis pulls them from his jacket pocket and puts them on the table with the other gifts.

Louis nods and let’s Harry guide him away, hand cupping his elbow. He doesn’t want to get drunk, after all, it’s his office party and his boss is present. Aside from that, he could easily slip and say something that would ruin their story.

“Louis!”

Louis and Harry both turn and Louis smiles at his favorite coworker. “Merry Christmas, Niall!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall says, pointing with his beer bottle. “This the famously mysterious Harry?”

Louis rolls his eyes as Niall shakes Harry’s hand. “This is Harry, yes. I wouldn’t say he’s famously mysterious though.”

“Sure. Okay. It’s not as if anyone placed bets as to whether or not he existed.” Niall nods and winks and Louis is pretty certain such bets were placed and he’s curious about who won and who bet which way. He turns to the tall man standing next to him and says, “This is my boyfriend Shawn. Been trying to get you to meet at happy hour, but—”

“Actually, um…” Harry starts, then frowns, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Shawn and I kind of know each other?”

It’s said like a question and Louis panics at the thought that perhaps Harry and Shawn have slept together at some point over the past year, but Shawn quickly puts that fear to rest. He grins, reaching for Louis’ hand, and says, “I work around the corner from Harry's bakery. Stop in all the time for coffee and too many pastries.”

#unfinished wip #fake relationship au #that's actually what i was going to title the fic lol #tobethemselves #snippet

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