*** December 1st, 1947, Louis and Eleanor's Apartment ***

"Harry," Louis breathed, "It's all right, she won't be back for some time…"

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm positive," Louis chuckled between kisses. He took hold of the man, unfastening the buttons of his shirt sloppily. His hands were shaky, lust-filled adrenaline pulsing through every vein in his body. He tore the piece of clothing off from Harry, tossing it on the bed and waiting for him to return the gesture.

The curly haired lad (he had not gotten his hair cut the entire year, allowing it to grow to unruly, unkempt lengths) took control of the thin, blue-eyed male in front of him. He ripped the materials from his slender figure piece by piece, stripping him of the fabrics completely.

"Aren't you going to take this tie off?" Louis questioned.

"I like it," Harry responded, dropping his pants to the floor. He grinned and pushed his partner against the foot of the bed, bending him backwards. He continued the motion until Louis' back had touched the soft, silky comforter and pressed their bodies together.

The warm, toned frame set flame to an even deeper desire for Harry than Louis could have ever imagined, and he felt the burning catch in his stomach. It clenched and blazed within him, a tingling sensation racing throughout every inch of his body. His fingers twitched as they slid up the side of Harry's face, caressing his jawline. With his right hand he gently latched on to the disheveled curls, and with his left, he pulled him further downwards.

Harry fell on top of him now, but Louis didn't mind. As he stared into the leafy green eyes, he realized what love felt like. It wasn't the pathetic, forced fling he had with his bitch-of-a-wife Eleanor. It was there and now with Harry atop him, body raging in stimulation, their mouths connected.

Harry felt a slippery tongue slide across his bottom lip, and access was immediately granted. As saliva alternated between one mouth and the next, tongues danced across teeth and ventured into uncharted territory. Passion of intoxicating, concentrated levels pierced their minds as two became one, and bodies were no longer discernible in the mess of limbs.

"Jesus Lou, I never knew you were so big," Harry smirked, eyeing the throbbing erection below his own. Louis' cheeks flushed, but he simply batted his lashes in the dim light.

"There's a whole lot you don't know, Styles," he said.

"Mmm, then why don't you show me…" his voice trailed off and he chuckled, grabbing Louis by the measly tie he wore. He tugged at the wrinkled thing, pulling the lithe man up with it. Their mouths collided once more, hands roaming each other's bodies as they stood. Louis' hands traveled up, encircling Harry's neck and to his ear, then down his chest and across his back. The soft padding of his fingers met the smooth cheeks of his partner's bum, and he smiled and grabbed at the delicate flesh. He squeezed down hard, earning a whimper and whine of approval from the other man.

Harry, though, took his arms in a different direction. They glided to Louis' head, becoming entangled within the luscious brown locks of the blue-eyed man as he nipped at his ear lobes.

"Oh!" he piped, feeling something slap against his bum. "Lou," he muttered, voice coated in lust. "You're such a naughty boy…" He moved his lips from the man's ear to his neck, biting and sucking at the tender skin.

"Wait," Louis said, gasping. "Oh…Harry, no…" he moaned. "Wait…stop…"

"Why, Boo Bear?" Harry panted.

"Eleanor…" he mumbled.

"But Lou…" Harry muttered, before returning to pleasure his lover once more.

"Oh, God...Harry, please…" Louis stuttered.

But the ecstasy that had been lapping at his feet was too much to ignore now. Like a powerful, unstoppable wave of the ocean it crashed over him, and the passion-charged water rippled over his body.

"Fuck it," he whispered, taking Harry by the shoulders and guiding him to the edge of the room. Louis slammed him against the wall, pinning his arms above his head. His hot tongue immediately traveled to Harry's neck, and he swirled it against the skin as he moved further down. A string of saliva was left in its wake, drying quickly on the burning flesh with help of the sultry air that engulfed the two.

Louis' mouth soon traced small circles around Harry's nipple as his left hand fondled the other. He flicked them—both with his tongue and finger—sending the curly haired man into peaks of pleasure. His member throbbed and twitched, and he groaned for Louis to move quicker. Each low, staggering moan of delight brought Louis closer and closer to Harry's pulsating cock and a grin perched his lips when finally, finally, he reached it.

Louis, of course, teased his partner before seizing the monstrous thing in his mouth. He placed a hand over its circumference, wrapping his fingers slowly around it. He gave a single, drawn-out stroke and listened for the shaky exhalation of breath from above. Pleased with the reaction, Louis smiled, before continuing.

He pressed his soft, wet lips against the shaft, licking it up and down. From base to tip it was slowly covered in Louis' warm saliva, eliciting a deep groan of approval from Harry.

"Come on," he pleaded, "Quit teasing."

"Don't rush me, Styles…" Louis replied, determined to prolong the interaction as much as possible. That was one thing Harry had forgotten amidst the tangled mess of limbs and sweat.

Louis Tomlinson didn't take orders.

Refusing to give in to the man's desires entirely, Louis took only the head of his thick arousal between his lips. His tongue spun round and round the tip, and Harry gripped his feathered hair tightly. He tugged tentatively, protesting in silence at Louis' deliberate behavior. Louis responded by grabbing with his hands at Harry's bum once more; partly to keep his body steady, and partly because he loved the way it felt.

He hated being rushed, but he knew that if he didn't hurry up, their time together would be over. He took as much of the cock in his mouth as he could, cheeks hollowing. He nearly choked once he reached the base—Harry was not small by any means—but forced the gag back to the pit of his stomach.

"Fuck!" Harry yelped, lids half shut. His lashes fluttered as his head thudded against the wall, and whispers of incoherent words escaped him.

Though they were nonsensical, random pieces of broken sentences entwined into one long string of babbling, Louis somehow understood their meaning. He established a stable, fixed rhythm of sucking; bobbing his head up and down while squeezing, pulling and slapping at Harry's ass. Louis' nails dug into the delicate and smooth skin, tearing away at the desire to pump his own erection. Unable to carry on without satisfying his own needs, he settled for keeping one hand on Harry's left bum cheek, the other stroking his member.

From the instant his fingers touched at his cock and onwards, Louis became overwhelmed under the bundle of sensuous euphoria that swallowed him. Harry's cologne lingered in his nostrils, the taste of him spread across his tongue, and the two could not be any closer.

Well, they could be closer, but neither of them was willing to go that far.

Were they?

"Harry," Louis panted, pulling his mouth away. "I want you inside of me," he breathed.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I thought we decided we were going to wait."

"I can't wait any longer, Harry. I need you. Now."

Harry grinned sheepishly, dragging Louis up to his mouth. He kissed the man deeply, and all senses of apprehension faded away in the loving embrace.

"Louis—"

"I'm ho-o-ome," a voice called. The sound of the sweet, shrill voice struck terror into the pair's eyes, and they exchanged glances of sheer alarm.

Their worst nightmares had come true, and their world was about to come tumbling down.

"Shit!" Louis whispered. "Hide!"

Panicking, Harry scooped up his things that were strewn about the floor, and hurried into the bathroom. Louis followed suit, shutting the door as quietly as possible and clicking the lock.

"What—"

"Shhh," Louis replied, holding a finger to his lips. He pointed to the empty tub, making a swiping gesture with his arm. Somehow, amidst the confusion and disorient, Harry understood the strange gesticulations. With the ball of clothes in his hand, he stepped lightly into the bathtub, wincing at the small creak it made. He shrunk as slowly as he could, bringing his knees up to his chest, and pulled the curtain across hesitantly.

"Louis?" Eleanor called. "Louis, where are you?"

"I'm in the bathroom, darling," he answered. "I'll uh…I'll be out in a minute."

"Well hurry up, will you? I need to use it, myself."

Louis gulped anxiously, glancing to where Harry lie in hiding. He swiftly threw on his clothes, ignoring the incessant wrinkles that would often make him cringe. He straightened his tie, unlocked the door, and swung it open.

"How was your day?" he asked Eleanor, who was now standing in front of him.

"It was all right" she responded, kissing Louis on the cheek. "Now get out of the way, you oaf."

She playfully pushed passed him, and closed the door with ease. Louis' jaw tensed as he waited for a blood-curdling scream that would bring the end to all of his trysts. He prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in, hoping that the silent words would bubble up past the Heavens and into the ears of the Lord.

He waited, and he waited. What felt like hours of agonizing and painful anticipation was really only minutes, but even through that short amount of time, he felt as though he was going insane.

Or something close to it, anyways.

Finally, the whooshing sound of the toilet within broke the heavy silence, and he realized they had not been caught. His affair—which was much better and far more loving than his actual marriage—would live another day.

How long had the two been sneaking around?

Five months, at least, Louis thought. Yes, our anniversary is July 1st.

When was his and Eleanor's anniversary?

He couldn't remember.

He was tired of keeping it all in, tired of holding his feelings back. In public, he and Harry could barely touch. No hugs, no hand holding, no kissing; those rules had been established soon after they had nearly been caught snogging each other in a back alley behind one of the many bars in Rapture. Even worse, though, was the way that Harry flirted so openly with every damned female he came across. The man was a walking whore-magnet, Louis would swear upon it.

Always the hand on the shoulder, the high-pitched giggle of seduction.

Always the patronizing reminder that Harry Styles could never truly be his.

Louis felt a flush of anger spread across his cheeks, and it wasn't long before imaginable, invisible steam was spewing from his ears. Resentment flared in his nostrils and the fury of it all was too much for him; pushing his hatred over the edge. So when the door opened, and Eleanor stepped out, it was easy for his fist to collide with her delicate face.

A scream rang from her fragile body as she dropped to the floor. It fell so easily, so effortlessly, and a sickening thud reverberated throughout the room.

The attack was unexpected and swift, sending her mind reeling. Eleanor was used to the abuse, and she carried the burden of the scars and the bruises with her every day that passed by. She expected the beatings regularly, and normally, she could tolerate them.

But usually, she at least had a reason why.

"Louis," she cried, "Please, don't do this," she pleaded. "What have I done?"

"You stupid bimbo! What haven't you done?" he roared, standing above her with his hand clenched. "You should be thankful all I did was hit you! And only once! Thankful, you should be thankful!"

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, raising her arms to cover her face. Her legs were bent at uncomfortable angles and her body trembled in fear. A stream of blood flowed from her nose, and the metallic taste dripped on her tongue. "Please…" she whispered. "Please, Louis. Please…"

Salty tears of despair fell and mixed with the pain of fresh, neoteric blood that trailed along Eleanor's face. A purple, darkened spot already had begun to form; the pain that she felt was immense. Her tailbone ached from the crash to the floor, and a few of her fingernails snapped in the process. The broken pieces of acrylics were scattered about her, forming a semi-circle that shone in the lighting.

Louis, noticing the shattered nails and realizing what he had done, quickly felt remorse. The tremors of animosity he had experienced so short a time before receded him, leaving a faltering man in its wake.

"Oh, God, El," he said, knees shaking. "I've done it again…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

She gazed up at him, sniffling and wiping away at the red of her upper lip.

"It's okay, Lou. I know you didn't mean it."

"It's not El, it's not," he said, crying.

But Eleanor was used to the instability of her partner, and thus knew how to react.

"Louis, it's all right, truly. I'll just; I'll go down to the infirmary and tell them I tripped. That I tripped and hit the kitchen counter. Okay? That will work. They'll fix me up and I'll be fine. Fine!" she said, faking a smile as best she could. Louis nodded, and watched as his wife rushed out of the room.

Louis buried his face in his hands, wavering in both body and mind. As he began to sink to the floor, Harry appeared. Catching him by the waist, he allowed for the feather-haired man to collapse in his arms. Now fully clothed and out of hiding, Harry consoled him the best he could. His hands rubbed small circles against Louis' back, comforting his shaken thoughts.

"I didn't mean to do it," Louis cried. "I didn't mean to," he said.

"I know," Harry told him.

"Honest to God, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it…"

"Shhh, Louis, it's all right."

"I didn't…" he sniffled. "I didn't mean it…"

"It's okay, Eleanor will forgive you."

"I just want to be together, that's all," Louis said. "Just you and me, Harry. I love you, you know. I love you so much and I hate that she keeps us apart. I wish she didn't Harry, I love you. I didn't mean to hit her, I was just so upset. I just want it to be us, Harry, not me and her. Just us, together. Forever."

"I know, Louis. I want it to be us, too. I love you with all my heart."

"Then why do you do it, Harry? Why do you flirt with so many women if you love me?" Louis asked, words muffled in Harry's chest.

"It's just an act, Lou, I promise. I love you. I love you, Boo Bear."

A pause.

"Will we get through this?"

"We'll get through this," Harry answered. "But listen, its best I get going, before she gets back."

Harry stood, gently guiding Louis to rest on the edge of his bed. He set the shivering body down on the soft comforter and made his way to the apartment's entrance.

"Harry," he heard Louis call, and he halted. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he answered, stepping out of the flat.

"Christ," Harry mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair. Upon reaching the end of the hall, he turned back, facing the direction of the home he had just left.

"Louis…" he said, shaking his head.

I realize that a one year time skip is a long time, but it was necessary to keep the plot moving forward. I'll do my best to make sure that the story makes sense, despite the time gap! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading, and don't forget to review and send me some feedback!

I just went back to reread over some chapters and the noticed the line breaks weren't there. I apologize for any confusion, but they should be there now! Again, sorry! :(