; adjective; very fine in texture or structure

Zayn returns to the flat to find his small flatmate huddled on the couch with some Tarzan looking human. From his angle by the doorway, it looked as if Harry was trying to eat Louis ("Fucking zombies, man. They're real," Zayn had rambled to Louis one time while he was heavily under the influence) so it's understandable, no it isn't, when Harry gets smacked in the back of the head with a wooden spoon and rolls off the couch, waking up on the floor on his back with an Adonis standing above him.

If it weren't for Zayn screeching above him, Harry would've thought he had died and this beautiful man was the first angel he was going to meet in Heaven (Louis is the first angel he's met on Earth).

The battle cries awoke Louis and he saved Harry by smacking Zayn in the side with a pillow. Once Zayn is assured that Harry is not a flesh-eating walking dead, Louis introduces the two ("Zayn, this is Harry, my new best friend. Harry, this is my old best friend Zayn. I promise he's normally more tranquil than this. Please don't let him scare you off.")

So yeah, that's how Harry meets Zayn.

(Zayn has an apocalypse emergency bag, an apocalypse escape route, and an apocalypse 'I told you so' ready for Louis just in case though.)

Since that day, Harry has visited Louis frequently. Whether to "fix" Louis' stuffies or just to hang out. Louis even takes the time to find painfully obvious excuses to go visit Harry at the pharmacy ("Um, Zayn? I'm going to the pharm-- The store! I'm going to the store to get... Marshmallows and rash cream! Yeah, that's right. I'll be back later.") Zayn obviously noticed that Louis never returned with any of the random items he was supposedly going out to buy, but never questioned it. He was too busy enjoying the time he had away from the kid.

Zayn and Louis had met in the 11th grade. Louis was a mess of shy eyes and flushed cheeks. He'd ran into Zayn once in the hallway and made the taller boy swear that he wouldn't tell anyone about the sparkly pink folder that fell out of his backpack.

"I-- I um, please. Please don't tell anyone." Louis' eyes began to water, his knuckles white as he hugs the folder to his chest.

He expects a punch, a kick to his side, even the forbidden F word thrown at him. He knows firsthand how cruel the kids his age can be. Instead, he feels a gentle hand engulf his shoulder. He looks up to meet a pair of dark, kind eyes.

"Hey, don't worry. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Getting to his feet, Louis dries his eyes in a hurry, feeling humiliated. He just wanted to get by high school with no problems. No bullies, no friends, no confrontation. He was more focused on trying to determine his sexuality than anything else. "I need-- H-H-How do I know you're telling the truth? You have no r-reason not to tell anyone."

"But I haven't a reason to tell anyone in the first place," Zayn picks up Louis' backpack and folder for him. He keeps the fact that the pink sparkles had rubbed off the distressed boy's hands and are now dusted under his pretty cerulean blue eyes. They're barely visible, due to his glasses, but still there, if you looked close enough.

"I have to know something about you. Y'know, something embarrassing. Just so we're even."

Zayn smiles, hoping to lighten the mood, and it's deemed a success when Louis grins down at his shoes, "Well, I don't just give out information like that to anyone, especially strangers."

"What about cute strangers?"

"You're cheeky, I like it," Zayn grins and slings an arm around Louis' shoulders and together they walk to their Creative Arts class. And if Louis flushes nervously and clutches two of Zayn's belt loops as their teacher lectures them about tardiness and responsibility, well, no one has to know.

Zayn and Louis have been friends since. They stuck together through high school, came out to each other, and are now living together. Zayn, being the older of the two, had bought an apartment once he graduated and made sure there was enough room for Louis. While Zayn was attending University, Louis was taking a gap year to enjoy himself.

Besides Zayn, though, Louis had no other friends. In preschool and elementary school, he was bubbly and too feminine for the boys but too "weird" for the girls because, "Boys can't play with dolls." In junior high school, he made a few friends but no one really stuck and then his mother made them move halfway through his 7th grade year, causing him to have to start all over. Then, he was shy and seemingly unapproachable all throughout high school.

So seeing that Louis had made a friend, a non flesh-eating friend, Zayn couldn't help but encourage the boy to indulge in his new friendship, so he could have some time to himself (and Liam).

"Ugh, Harry. They're at it like cats in heat," Louis groans from under his pile of blankets, phone hot against his ear.

He hears Harry shuffle around on the other end, and then, "It's basically live porn, how are you not turned on?"

Louis' cheeks flush from Harry's choice of vocabulary. His mouth usually became unfiltered after his usual 9:00pm bedtime. And if his phone is correct, the numbers glaring back at him read 11:37pm. Seeing that it's a Tuesday night and Harry has work early tomorrow, he should probably let him get some sleep but Tired Harry has an even deeper voice and says dirty words in a pretty way. "They're my friends, I don't see them like that. Especially Liam. He's not Daddy material."

Apparently after hours, Louis' brain-to-mouth filter dissipated as well.

Silence. Then, "Louis Tomlinson, do you have a Daddy kink?"

Louis can hear Harry's smirk through the phone, "I-- Um, I mean... Father material? Yeah! Like having a baby and--"

"Nu uh, you little minx. You said Daddy material. You, in fact, have a Daddy kink."

Abort mission, "Pssh. What are you talking about? I don't even know what a Daddy kink is."

"It's getting a rise out of calling someone or being called Daddy. Which one is it, Louis? Do you like being called Daddy or calling someone Daddy?"

The haven Louis has created under his blankets begins to grow hotter in temperature. He places his phone under his chin on his bed and presses the 'Speaker' button with his shaky fingers. "I don't-- I'm not-- Harry, don't you think it's getting a bit late?"

Please get off the phone, Louis is praying. He feels the familiar stirring in the pit of his tummy and his cheeks are burning red (in pleasure or embarrassment, Louis has no idea).

"You wanna know what I think?" Harry's voice is slow and deep, not helping Louis' problem at all.

He hesitates before saying, "What do you think?"

Louis can hear Harry breathing on the other end of the phone. Not in a creepy, scary movie way, but more in a hypnotizing way that could lure Louis to sleep.

"I think you'd like to call someone Daddy."

A quick puff of breath leaves from between Louis' bitten red lips. Just at the thought of having a... Having a Daddy causes his eyes to flutter shut. "I gotta... Harry. I'm tired."

Harry knows how he's affecting Louis, and wants to do even more. Wants to see his pink cheeks and red lips and lust-blown eyes. But, at the same time, he doesn't want to make him too uncomfortable. "Alright, Poppet. Get some sleep. It's way past your bedtime."

"O-O-Okay. See you tomorrow?" Louis has no idea if he's disappointed that Harry dropped the Daddy subject or relieved.

"Of course, Lou. We're gonna have so much fun! My buddy Niall has been dying to meet you."

Louis covers his mouth with his tiny fist as he nods, laying his head down on one of his many pillows. "M'kay, 'arry. Can't wait to meet 'im too."

"Goodnight, Louis. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Daddy."

The dial tone rings through Louis' ears as he gets comfortable in bed. His phone automatically shuts off. It's not until he hears another moan (from Zayn or Liam, he doesn't know for sure) that he realizes his mistake. He called Harry Daddy.

"Oh fudge. Zayn!"

The cold air chills him as he throws the blankets from off his body. He's in such a rush that he forgets to shove his tiny toes into one of his many pairs of animal slippers (it would've been the hedgehog pair halfway under his bed). His feet thunder down the hallway until he stops in front of Zayn's bedroom door. He's narrowly aware of the guttural moans and groans sounding from behind the white door, but he couldn't care less. He called Harry Daddy.

"Zayn! Zayn please open up! It's an emergency."

He folds his hands in front of him after a plethora of knocks. The moans stop, replaced by several curses and the sound of the bed creaking. His fingers dance around the pink bruises on his knuckles as he waits for the door to open. Heavy footsteps. Something falling over. More curses. More somethings falling over. More footsteps. Then, the door whips open, "Louis, what the actual fuck do you want?"

"I-- Zayn. Harry-- He--"Louis trips over his words as he stares up at his older friend.

Zayn is dressed in next to nothing, hair wild and sweaty. There's an obvious boner tucked inside his hot pink briefs and his skin is covered in a layer of sweat. The annoyance in his eyes slowly diminishes, though, once he notices the distressed state of his best friend. "Hey buddy, what's wrong?"

Louis barely registers himself being pulled into Zayn's chest, his arms coming to loosely wrap around Zayn's waist. A hug is just what he needed.

"C'mon. Let's go get some tea."

Fifteen minutes later, Louis finds himself seated on the kitchen island. Zayn's back is to him as he makes them all a cup of tea, though Louis can't see much of Zayn's back by the way Liam, clad in a fluffy red robe, is hugging him from behind.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong now?"

Louis looks down at his lap and bites his lip, "IcalledHarryDaddybyaccidentonthephone."

Zayn looks back at him, "A little louder and in English please,"

"I called Harry Daddy by accident on the phone."

Zayn sputters and his boyfriend's head shoots up from his neck, both of them staring at the innocent little boy with wide eyes. "You did what?"

"Well, I was talking to Harry about how you guys were doing dirty activities and how you'd been at it for like and hour already and he was like, "Aren't you turned on? It's like live porn," and I was like, "Nooo. They're my friends--"

"Wait. You told him we were fucking?" Zayn sets Louis' mug beside him (the cute orange cat shaped one) and raises an eyebrow.

"Zayn, the whole city knew you were... You know... Doing the sex."

Liam snorts from somewhere in the kitchen and Louis' cheeks flush pink, like always. They seemed to recently be practically stained various shades of red. It's not Louis' fault. He just hates the use of profanity. Especially the F-U-C-K word. It's so bad. And when Zayn uses it to describe his sexual escapades with Liam... Louis just wants to pout and kick his feet. Something so intimate should not be described with such a vulgar word.

Liam appears behind Zayn, kissing the side of his head, "Sorry, Lou Bear. Zayn is just so vocal. He can't control himself."

That earns Liam an elbow to his side, "If I'm not mistaken, you were the one going 'Oh fuck yeah, baby'." Zayn imitates his moans, "But Louis, what do you mean you called Harry Daddy?"

Louis huffs and pouts, the heels of his bare feet knocking against the cabinets beneath him, "Harry asked if I was turned on and I told him no because neither of you are Daddy material and--"

"Hey, I'm totally Daddy material."

"Hush, Liam. Let him finish."

"But Zayn," he drawls out, "Tell him I'm Daddy material."

"Li, you're Daddy material in my heart."

"Will you two shut up and let me finish my story?" Louis snaps impatiently.

The not yet married couple pause their heart-eyed love stare and look at Louis sympathetically.

The single lad rolls his blue eyes, "Anyway, Harry catches on the Daddy thing and-- I tried. I tried so hard to steer the conversation away from the subject. And for a second, it worked! Until he bid me goodnight and I whispered, "Goodnight, Daddy," totally by accident."

"I don't see the problem," Zayn looks at Louis blankly.

"What!" Louis shrieks, "I called him Daddy, Zayn. Daddy!"

"Don't act like you haven't wanted to call him Daddy for the last month."

Louis' jaw drops and, predictably, his cheeks, again, grow pink.

Okay, maybe Louis has wanted to call Harry Daddy before (multiple times before), but can you blame him? Harry dropped everything to take care of Louis, a mere stranger, while he was sick. He fed Louis medicine and cuddled him and sang along to Frozen with him. And that was just within the first few days Harry had known him. Harry took Louis to the park and pushed him on the swings. They had even shared a strawberry milkshake together. Harry was totally Daddy material.

"Okay... Maybe I've wanted to call him Daddy before. But it doesn't matter. Harry is straight and probably doesn't want to deal with someone as needy as I am."

Zayn caresses Louis under his chin and runs his thumb over his bitten lower lip, "You're not needy, alright? If anything, you just need someone worthy enough to take care of you and Harry is that guy. Just look how much he's cared for you since you've met him."

"Face it, Zayn," Louis sighs heavily and wipes his eyes indignantly, brushing Zayn's hand away, "He's straight and hot and I'm gay and average. I don't have a chance."

"Alright. I won't push it but please don't give up. Harry's a really good guy and I think he'd be good for you. Now, drink your tea and get back to bed, kid."

Louis grins, grabbing his mug with two hands and sliding off the counter. He ignores the tea that splashes out of his cup, knowing Liam will wipe it up, as he continues his way back to his bedroom.

Louis finds himself back in bed a short while after, mouth minty fresh and his kitten mug empty on his bedside table. Maybe he overreacted about the Daddy thing. Maybe Harry didn't even hear him. Yeah. Harry probably didn't even hear what Louis said.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz.

Grabbing his phone from under his pillow, Louis first plugs it into his charger. Once he's sure it's charging, he taps on the message icon and reads the most recent ones.

Harry : Srry if the Daddy thing freakd u out, blue lou.

Harry : I hope you know I likd it more than u think.

Harry : Anyway, Im tired. Gtg to bed. My fingers wont click the right message keys. Nite.