Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The usual crowd filled the low-lit room. Louis had been to his fair share of runway shows. It was a consequence sort-of dating a fashion designer/blogger, even if none of her work was ever good enough to get its own show. Eleanor tugged on his arm, directing him over two some well-dressed designers. Louis found himself, as always, quite bored here.

The show itself didn’t start for ten minutes. Everyone took their time finding their seats, and Eleanor kept blabbing away about her excitement for the men’s section. “Maybe I can find Louis something chic to wear, for once, hmm?”

Her nasally voice cut across his neck with too little affection to even be considered banter. He didn’t blame her terribly much. They’d had a rocky road, and neither of them ever truly let go of past resentment. “Yes, well, I don’t see your outfits up there. Maybe I need to be seeing someone with better taste.” The fellow designers looked smug as they laughed at Eleanor’s expense, and part of Louis felt bad. Then, he felt her nails dig into his arm, telling him he’d overstepped again, and the guilt became secondary. He kissed her cheek and moved his hand to the small part of her back. “Just kidding, lads. She’s got great shit.”

“’Great shit.’ Eloquent, Louis. Truly.” Eleanor sighed as the music muffled her words. She turned to the two men that were subtly sneering at someone’s outfit. “It was great seeing you two. Keep your eyes out for my review of the show. I’m sure it will be smashing!”

Finally, Eleanor directed them to their seats where she smiled sweetly into his gaze. “You’re such a great kiss-arse.”

“At least I fit in here. You’re dating a designer, and you show up wearing two different brands? Seriously, Louis, are you trying to embarrass me?” Eleanor looked to the stage as the runway lit up. Spotlights focused on the entrance, and the lights around them dimmed even lower.

“Spot on, actually.”

Eleanor fluffed her hair haughtily. “Management will be hearing about this.”

“Wonderful.” Louis sat back in his chair, trying to get comfortable. He’d never get used to the flashing cameras despite nearly growing up around them. Whether they were paparazzi following young sixteen year old boy-band members or the press itching for a magazine cover picture of hot models in weird clothing, the flash was always jarring.

Louis zoned out for most of the show. This was the last date idea he would normally agree to, but it was under contract that he would attend two of these a year with her. As little interest he had in fashion, he didn’t feel it was worth half a million for breaking the contract.

Louis supposed he should have reviewed the program before agreeing to come to this show. He should have reviewed all the designers and, more importantly, the models. Not a single inch of him was prepared when he walked out.

Harry Styles wore a bright yellow suit, tailored to his exact measurements. The trousers were high waisted, lengthening his already long legs. Resting over his chest was a plush, poufy purple article of clothing that Louis had no name for yet suddenly adored. He wore a dash of makeup, nothing close to the previous models, clearly modeling himself with his name and beautiful face still attached. His curls were shorter than the last time Louis had seen him two years ago, but they still framed his face in a way that enhanced his crisp jaw line.

Louis sucked in a sharp breath of air, pressing his hand to his chest. Harry walked down the runway in a powerful glide. Louis never once thought Harry Styles was capable of walking so smoothly, with such power it put Louis to shame.

“You’re staring.”

Louis coughed, smoothing down his blazer. “He’s being a model. We’re supposed to stare.”

“At the clothes. Not him,” Eleanor said, a burning hatred seeping into her words. It was all too familiar years ago when this was how she always sounded.

“He’s my friend, El. I had no idea he’d be here.”

Eleanor pinched the bridge of her nose. “You haven’t spoken to him in two years. He’s not a friend.”

Harry’s eyes stayed far above the crowd, even as Louis wished they’d look down. Louis didn’t bother with forming an answer as Harry walked past them. At the end of the runway, he paused, finally smiling at the crowd, but Louis only caught a glimpse of it. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be a main model, just a star cameo in an outfit most likely designed specifically for him. Louis had seen this done before, but it was something he never thought he’d seen one of his friends do. Old friend, at least.

It was something Harry used to dream of doing.

Pride swelled in his heart, though it shouldn’t have. He played no role in Harry making his way here, not in the last two years. Three even. Still, he knew him when he was just a boy who dreamed of singing in front of a crowd of a hundred people. Now, he sang in front of thousands. Now, his biggest dreams were coming true.

“Don’t go see him. You know it won’t end well,” Eleanor said, which made the idea more irresistible. Louis smiled tightly at her and patted her thigh as Harry disappeared backstage.

“Course not.”

The show ended a painful hour later. Louis intended on seeking out Harry, but Eleanor’s grip on him was as tight as the bodyguards lurking in the corners. They, unfortunately, worked for his management team, not him. Practically the entire world knew Louis and Harry were to never speak again unless a band reunion occurred. Nobody wanted to stir about rumors.

They actually stumbled upon Harry. In an effort to harass another designer, who was sticking close to the models walking about, Eleanor led him straight to Harry. He was in a casual conversation with Kendell Jenner, one of his long-time friends, when his green eyes fell upon the pair.

Eleanor noticed who stood beside the designer only moments too late to change paths without an awkward moment occurring. “Eleanor Calder! What a lovely show you put on. I believe…” She jumped into conversation with the designer, too preoccupied to spare more than a side glance as Louis finally looked directly at Harry.

Kendell had smoothly slid away, probably assuming a horrid reunion was about to occur. It proved just how wrong half of the world was about Louis and Harry. They could never be truly hostile towards each other.

“Louis. Didn’t expect to see you here,” Harry said, hands moving toward pockets in the suit that simply didn’t exist. It made Louis smile fondly. As smoothly as he walked that runway, nobody could truly drive the awkwardness out of Harry permanently.

“Yeah, well, got to accompany El and all that.” He shrugged, trying not to openly show his irritation but hoping it was clear to Harry. His eyes traveled to Louis’ left where Eleanor was in a deep conversation about fabrics.

“Ah. Sorry. Hope it wasn’t too boring for you.” Harry’s voice had grown deeper, somehow. It astounded Louis that he hadn’t seen him in two years. He’d kept up on his work, but it was as vague as his own life updates.

“It was getting there, I’ll admit.” Louis rubbed at the back of his neck as he stepped closer so their conversation could be kept as private as possible. He loathed that Eleanor knew about more of interactions than anyone else. He refused to let her listen in on this one, though, not the details. “But then you stepped out there. Could never be bored by you, Haz.” Louis hadn’t expected to see Harry blush and tuck his chin against his chest in the same manner he did when he was sixteen. It made his heart race with affection. “Seriously, that was so cool, mate. I always told you that you’d get here one day, hmm? Congrats.”

Harry chuckled and brushed his hair over his head, as if he were used to his longer locks still. Maybe he only recently cut them. The thought that Louis could have seen him again with his long hair made him a deflate a little.

“You did. You always thought I’d get everything I thought I wanted,” Harry said, eyes mistily gazing around the room. “Thanks, I guess.”

Louis could hear the hesitation laced within his words and sighed. “Not everything you thought it’d be, is it?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, you knew that. We figured that out together.”

Louis rocked back on his feet, glancing at Eleanor and feeling hatred fester inside his chest. Not for the girl, but for everything she stood for. “I never thought it’d be harder than those days back in the band, but doing it all alone is…” His blue eyes found comfort in the watery green ones, and his voice cracked slightly. “It’s so much worse.”

“Didn’t think it was that hard for you back then, really. You always acted so carefree about it all,” Harry said with a frown.

Louis snorted as Eleanor wrapped her arm around his waist. “Hi, Harry. You did a great job up there.”

Louis cringed away from her touch, separating his body from her. In the presence of Harry and all the past he knew he missed out on, her hands made his stomach roll. “I guess I’ve always been a good actor,” Louis said, glancing at Eleanor for emphasis. Few people knew about the details of their ‘relationship.’ Harry wasn’t one of them, but he’d taken on numerous PR-relationships in his free time throughout the years himself. Maybe he’d figure it out. “Even to my best friend. Sorry, love.”

Harry’s mouth remained open, but no words came out. His mind worked slowly to piece together what Louis was hinting at. Before he could form a question, Eleanor ended the interaction. This time, she didn’t let Louis move away when she grabbed his arm. “Sorry, Harry. We really must get going. Good seeing you.”

Harry continued staring in confusion, and Louis supposed he should have felt bad about causing such complexity in his beautiful features. His plump lips pressed together, as if trying to fit the puzzle together but coming up short of one crucial piece. Louis offered him a lighthearted smile and wink before he lost sight of the man he once felt everything for.

After seeing him in all his glory tonight, Louis wondered if maybe he still did.

. . .

The thoughts pervaded his thoughts. It was troubling. He tried to find inspiration for new songs, but the only things that came to mind were yellow bananas, power walks, and green, somber eyes.

It was three in the morning when he finally removed the block on the name ‘Harry Styles’ on twitter. His feed overflowed with images of the man working the runway, as if he’d always been some graceful model. Many fans suggested he should delve more into that field, but Louis doubted he would. Harry loved his body, as he rightly should, and he loved attention, but there was a lack of total artistic control you had as a model. If there was one thing Harry loved, it was being in control of what he produced. In general, he liked being in control, but it was in a more subtle way compared to Liam or Louis. It was so subtly that, ultimately, he did end up getting what he wanted.

Well, maybe not always.

He kept scrolling, and soon the clock turned to 4 AM. Louis knew he should stop. He knew he was killing himself looking at images of Harry’s cut jawline and perfect lips and playful eyes. His own eyes were slipping with sleep, and he was ready to turn off his phone, but then there was an image of Harry sipping on a drink after the fashion show, pink straw between his lips, cheeks drawn inward. It was sinful. Louis tried zoom in, but in his sleepy state, his finger dexterity was low, and his finger hit the ‘like’ button by accident.

A hot spike of fear bolted him awake as he gaped at his phone in horror, unsure what to do for a solid three minutes.

It was possibly the worst one to like. It was some fan account’s post, so it didn’t even promote Harry in a professional light. The caption read:

‘Harry Styles celebrating his powerbottom walk with a fruity drink. He deserves it #fashionicon’

Louis finally got his wits about him and ‘unliked’ the tweet, but he feared his fans from all over the globe already screenshotted the action. Three minutes was just too long. He kept refreshing his feed and switched over to his fake account, the one he used to stay up to date on what his fans thought of him. He only used it to stay ahead of his PR team, like right now.

Exactly as he thought, his fans immediately raved about it. Gossip like no other sprouted from nearly dead accounts, too. Fans hadn’t talked like this since the days of the band.

Louis knew his team would be on him in the morning, but he didn’t care. He was almost out of their claws. It was the guilt he felt towards Harry that worried him. Without thinking about it, he pulled up Harry’s phone number, praying he hadn’t changed it, though it was likely.

Hey, Haz. I fucked up. I was half asleep and ‘liked’ a fan account’s tweet about you. I unliked it. Obviously. But you know the Larry fans. Just – I’m sorry. Especially because they’re all gonna think I’m confirming you’re a bottom. Which I wouldn’t know, but I’m just really sorry, mate. Hope all is well with you. xx – Louis

Louis went to sleep with a gaping hole in his chest, terrified Harry would hate him. He could imagine all kinds of scenarios where Harry wrote him off or, even worse, humiliated him, just like Zayn. It’d somehow be worse coming from Harry.

Louis woke up to nine missed called from management, five lengthy angry texts from management, and three surprisingly amusing texts from Harry.

it’s called favoriting, not liking, Louuu

hahahah that’s hilarious. yeah, definitely sending out the opposite message about me, but close enough I suppose ;)

don’t stress about it, though. my management doesn’t really care about my personal life. I’d be more worried about your own. let me know if they give you trouble and you want to talk. I miss you. xx – H

The texts were all sent just before five in the morning, so Harry was likely high or drunk. It explained the winky face and openness. So many words jumped out at him in those texts. He tried to make sense of it, but Harry practically confirmed all the unanswered questions he left Louis with back in the band.

The opposite of bottoming was topping, but that wasn’t a term straight men used. Louis supposed by now Harry was so open about his sexuality, or lack thereof, that Louis should just assume, but assuming was different than knowing. And thinking of Harry doing enough with men to know what he liked. The winking and banter and Louuu was something they had back in the band.

H.

God, Louis missed him.

Eleanor was present in the emergency meeting scheduled at noon. She sat on her phone the entire time, refusing to look at Louis, even as he sat down next to her. “We’ve arranged for a promise ring to-,”

“No.” Louis laughed, kicking his feet up on the table. “Next idea.”

“Louis. This is serious. You’ve instigated more rumors than you did back in the band. This tweet was huge,” said his manager.

“Yeah, well, last month Niall commented heart-eyes on my picture and nobody freaked out,” Louis said, taking a sip of water. “Here’s the deal. My contract is up in three months. So if you want to embarrass Eleanor by making it seem as though I’ve ended a hypothetical engagement in three months, sure, but I’d suggest you rethink that.”

The PR agent looked troubled at that. She pinched her nose and nodded. Clearly, they were all far too optimistic about him renewing his contract with Modest Management. They’d be sorely mistaken.

“Alright. Then we need proper PDA. You technically broke contract, so unless you’d like to pay half a million for the breach, we’ll waive it for true PDA.”

Louis took a shaky breath in and glanced at Eleanor. The troubling thing was he shouldn’t have a problem with this. Years ago, he’d slept with girls. Multiple times. He even came close to it with Eleanor. He could do a little PDA. It was Eleanor Calder, the bane of his existence, that was the issue. It was all that kissing her always meant – sweeping away who he truly was, fueling the fear of his sexuality, and lying to everyone. It ate away at his soul for days after doing anything with her.

“Fine. Have them ‘catch us snogging’ or summat. I don’t care.”

. . .

Louis was on his twelth beer of the night. It was times like today that he wished her were back home. If he’d had such a shit day in Doncaster, he’d have Stan or Oli join him in smothering it with a pint or ten. Instead, he got to drink by himself while all his famous friends were off in their busy lives. Niall was countries away. Liam was dealing with a newborn child. Zayn and he never spoke. And Harry…Harry was part of the problem. Even if he had a friend, he couldn’t step foot into a pub, not after supposedly being on a trip in the country with Eleanor.

He jumped onto twitter, careful to navigate it slowly this time. He’d left Harry’s name unblocked, so when he saw a picture of him wearing a shirt that said ‘practise safe sex’ with two guys jerking each other off, Louis threw his phone.

Harry got to be completely, unapologetically himself. He was so accepting, more than Louis was at his age, so he deserved it. The issue was how envious Louis was of him.

Louis flung himself off the couch, slipped on a pair of trainers, and disappeared out the door. He pulled his hood up over his head, hoping to blend in with the streets. It was only eight at night, so it was after dinner and before clubbing. Hopefully, the paps wouldn’t be around his building. Then again, he did just create a scandal today.

He wandered the streets quite recklessly for being without a phone, but the crisp, post-rain air refreshed his senses. It allowed his mind to wander to all the possible futures for himself. For a time when he could consider having freedom in his life. It seemed impossible, but he had a lot of power behind his name now. Maybe he could get lucky.

Then again, he knew luck didn’t get you that far in this industry. You have to map and plan out everything you wanted. Otherwise, people would step over you to raise the profit for themselves, even if you employed them.

Louis pressed himself against a brick wall, clutching at his chest as he forced his breathing to go back to normal. It felt hopeless. He had no idea how he would negotiate a proper deal. He had no idea how to even get a lawyer who knew enough to get him that. Nobody cared what he wanted. He had to do this.

A group of girls were coming his way, so Louis started moving to avoid getting identified. That would only make things a thousand times worse. Before he realized where he was heading, he was in Harry’s neighborhood. It wasn’t far from his own, and yet he’d never been there before. He only knew his address because he picked Niall up from here once. Obviously, it’d been burned into his mind ever since.

Harry owned a flat on the top floor of a building somewhat similar to Louis’. The security was extensive, and Louis was sure if he wasn’t someone with a famous face, he’d have been escorted out before even getting to the front desk. His own apartment complex had something similar in the sense that it felt far too much like a hotel, but his apartment managers and all their employees were the definition of professional, and it seemed this was the case for Harry’s. Nothing would beat the semblance of privacy they had at the house they shared in princess park, but Louis digressed.

“Hello, love. Um, I know this won’t go over well, but can you ring Harry Styles for me, please? I’m not on his list, surely, but we used to work together. I’m-,”

“Mr. Louis Tomlinson?” Interjected the attendant. She wore a sweet smile, as if she weren’t turning her nose as his poor appearance. “You’re on his list. Do you know his code or shall I ring him for you?”

Louis sputtered for a second, only recovering because of his tipsy brain. “Ring him, please. Old friend and all.”

The woman nodded, gesturing to the phone by the elevators. She must have done something because as soon as he stumbled his way there, it rang. He picked it up and failed to answer.

“Hellooo? Lou?”

Oh god. He knew it was him. Louis supposed he would have figured it out quickly regardless, but that was his voice. Harry was in the building, alone, so close to him. It seemed impossible.

“Oh, um…hi.”

There was silence on the line for a while. Louis didn’t know what to say. How did one go about demanding the code to someone’s flat? Probably by asking, but Louis worried if he asked, Harry would say no. That would make today so much worse.

“568477”

“Wut?”

Harry let out a tiny chuckle. “That’s the elevator code. Opens
up to my flat. Come on up, chatter box.”

Louis scowled. That was a name Liam used to call him before they actually got along. In the early days of the band, once Louis got comfortable around Harry, Zayn, and Niall, he finally opened up and didn’t really stop. That was when Liam and he began clashing, and they still often did, but now it was without true hatred.

It took Louis two tries to get the elevator code correctly. A bunch of random numbers seemed like a terrible code to remember hammered, and Harry definitely was a partier. Nevertheless, when the elevator opened, Louis had been expecting a hallway. Instead, it literally opened to the center of his living room.

“Woah. This is like the fancy version of iCarly.” Louis stumbled across the elevator, and it closed promptly, leaving him gaping at the large modern style living room. Harry appeared from what seemed to be a massive kitchen with an obsidian-looking counter.

“That was the selling point of this place, actually.” Harry wore a fond smile, and his words were slow as ever. Louis loved that about him. He never missed a word out of those soft lips.

“I know I just appeared, but what are you wearing, mate? I thought you hated frogs because we joked that you resembled them.” Louis gestured wildly at Harry’s blue pajama bottoms with frogs patterns spread about it. He also wore a white tank top, looking nearly ready for bed, and suddenly Louis gasped. “Oh, god. You’re probably busy. Or sleeping. Did I wake you? Should I go?”

Harry frowned down at him and stepped closer. “No. I was just having a movie night in. Stay.”

“By yourself? Sounds depressing, Haz.”

With that, Harry led them into the kitchen where a kettle was nearly steaming. Louis hoped he’d offer some tea. He could use some to sober his foggy mind up. His eyes seemed to have trouble moving away from the cute curls pinned back in a headband on Harry’s head.

“What about yourself then? A solo night out?”

As the kettle went off, Louis jumped onto the counter. It was cold, but he supposed he needed that. “A solo night in for meself, too, I guess. Except with beer. Lots of beer.”

Harry snorted as fiddled with two cups. Shockingly, he began crafting tea exactly how Louis liked it. The fact that he remembered it made Louis sick to him stomach, though he didn’t know why. “Thought you were on a romantic getaway with El?”

Louis crumpled over in half laughing. That encouraged Harry to spin around with a hesitant smile on his face. Louis wiped at his eyes and extended his hands for the tea, grateful when Harry sat it on a saucer at his side. “If I were doing that, I’d be three times as drunk right now.”

The kettle continued steaming, so Harry took it off the stove. His green eyes were calculating as he looked Louis over. “Why?”

Louis waved a hand. It was pointless to try and explain such a long story, one that had Harry woven intricately in it. “Acting is so hard, Haz. Dunno how you did it in Dunkirk.”

Harry’s smile reached his eyes, and for some reason, that offered Louis some relief. Based on all the images of Harry he’d stalked in the last three days he’d had his name unblocked, Harry had perfected a stage smile that looked pleasant but was nowhere near his true smile. This one, however, was.

“You watched Dunkirk?”

“’Course. Excellent in everything you do, love,” Louis said, patting his cheek as Harry leaned against the counter by his leg. “I-,”

Harry swatted at his leg lightly, making Louis scrunch his nose down at him. “Don’t distract me. What acting did you have to do?”

Louis groaned, flinging himself back on his counter. Thankfully, Harry kept his place clean. Louis missed having someone around who teased him about his messes until he eventually attempted to pick them up. “I’ve been acting since we got on that bloody stage. You’ve known that.” Harry’s hand wrapped around his ankle, pulling him down until he was forced to stand again. Louis pouted towards Harry, who clearly didn’t appreciate his vague words. With a sigh, he ran a hand down his cheek. His skin was soft, and he wanted to do so much more, but instead, he pulled away. “I came here for a reason, Haz. Not just to invade your privacy.”

“I’d never mind that.” Harry bit at his lip slightly, a pinched expression the only tale that he was ready for what they both knew would be a serious conversation. Louis decided if he were going to trust anyone, it would be Harry, no matter if this was the first time they hung out in over two years.

“Eleanor is a PR stunt. Has been for a while.”

Harry’s scowl deepened. The puzzle pieces danced across his vision, and if it weren’t a depressing part of Louis’ life, it would have been amusing to watch come together. “But why? You never had a bad reputation with – oh. Oh. It’s because all the larry – oh.”

Louis tilted his head back and forth. “Erm, not really. Partially, I guess.”

With a huff, Harry pinched Louis’ waist. “I’m not following, love.”

His hands twisted within themselves. Apparently, he was going to have to come out to the one person he thought could have guessed it before anyone else. “Haz. The only reason they wanted to cover up those rumors so badly was – is because I’m gay. They’ve kept me in the closet since before I even began to know.”

The silence cut away at his heart, and he wanted to look up, but Louis’ limbs felt like stone. This was the one person he always imagined coming out to first. This was the one he’d always intended on telling first. Instead, this was almost the last person to know. All because management refused to let there be any whispers of contact between the pair. They wanted it to seem like the only reason they were ever close was because of the band. They began the end of their friendship a year before the band broke up, and they got their way.

“Sorry. I’m having trouble – you – you’re gay,” Harry said, as if testing the words out on his tongue. His shock made Louis feel nothing but shame. This shouldn’t have been so hard. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why – I mean, I guess I didn’t have any right to -,”

Louis’ hand jumped forward, landing on Harry’s waist and steadying them both. “No, Haz. You had every right to know back then.”

Harry relaxed at that, and Louis finally met his gaze. It was full of confusion and curiosity, but not one part of it felt judgmental. It never could, not from Harry, even now. “Then why didn’t you tell me? That – I – it changes a lot, Lou. I know it shouldn’t, but…”

Louis felt his chest tighten. He had a terrible guess as to what it changed for Harry. “I didn’t know. I would have told you, but I just didn’t know. I was…” Louis looked around the room. Within this expansive kitchen big enough to cook food for twenty people, Harry stood at Louis’ side, facing him directly, attention all on him. It made heat coil within his stomach. “I was so happy back then, Haz. With you, with the boys, with everyone. Even when we were exhausted and worn down and oppressed, I was so fucking happy. I thought it was because I was with Danielle. I mean, we saw each other once every two months, and we barely spoke each day, but I thought that’s what a good relationship was like.”

Harry’s gaze settled on their feet. Louis wished he would look at him. Guilt was building in his chest. He wished he could have realized it sooner. It could have saved Harry so much pain.

“And then I fucked it up,” Harry said, a shaky breath escaping his lips. Louis squeezed his hip and shook his head. He remembered that night and how much it hurt to lie to Harry. How he felt like he’d shattered his innocent soul with only a few words that were so far from the truth.

“No, Haz. I can explain that, actually. I’m not supposed to tell you this – any of it – but, fuck, I’m tired of hiding.”

Harry finally looked at him. His eyes were misty, and Louis just wanted to hold him. He wanted all the space between them to disappear. “You are?”

Louis breathed deeply and retracted his hand. Harry stepped forward. “Yeah. I am. My contract with Modest ends in three months. I really don’t want to get into something like that again. I want to come out eventually. Maybe. And I – I just don’t know how to make sure they don’t do…that again.”

Harry muttered under his breath. “Fuck, Lou.” And then he was in his arms, wrapped within his grip, unable to leave, not that he’d ever want to. Louis sighed deeply, savoring the feeling of being held by Harry again. He was smothered in his woodsy scent. It felt like the world could no longer touch him. “Is that why you came here?”

Louis shrugged, and Harry began to loosen his grip. Louis held on tighter. “I guess so. Also just wanted to see you. Also buzzed.”

Harry let out the loud cackle that would always be burned into Louis’ mind. It was enough to make Louis grin and pull back to watch Harry’s smile sober out. It was a beautiful sight on the tanned boy. Man, Louis supposed.

“Alright. Come on, Lou.” Harry led Louis into the living room, placing him on the giant couch that shouldn’t have been so comfortable, but it was. Louis sank into the soft cushion and sighed. Harry disappeared for only a minute before returning with two business cards in his hand. He handed them both to Louis with a grim expression. “This is my lawyer. He had me write down everything I wanted before looking at management firms. This one is Jeffery Azoff’s card. I’m not sure if he’s taking new clients or if he’d want to take on two members of one direction, but he’ll tell you what firms are actually decent with their clients.”

Louis stared at the cards in awe. It felt like Harry just handed him keys to a new home. Louis didn’t know how to react. “Fuck. Thank you, Harry. This – this is everything.”

Harry crossed his legs and leaned back into the couch, facing Louis slightly. “It’s the least I could do. Nobody should have to hide who they are.” Louis nodded. He’d always known that, but he wished he believed that sooner. “So, uh, not to force anything out of you, but you said I didn’t ruin everything? Could you elaborate possibly? Because I’ve spent the last two years regretting that night and sort of hating myself for it.”

Louis cursed under his breath, jolting forward to press his hand to Harry’s thigh and cheek, moving his face so he was forced to look Louis in the eyes. “God, no, Haz. Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth…”

Louis sighed, letting his hand fall to shoulder, pulling him against his chest. Harry let himself be held, head nuzzling into his neck. His hot breaths tickled his skin in the most adorable way. Louis found the words slipping past his lips as soon as Harry looked up at him with those innocently green, lonely eyes.

“Three years ago, I signed a separate contract with management. It looked like it gave me more perks. More money. More solos. More freedom with the lyrics. All the shit we couldn’t do for the first two years. There was a clause about who I dated – saying if they didn’t approve, they had the right to hide it. And some other shit about how I dressed and who I lived with and ‘PDA’ among friendships.”

Harry sat up more at this. It was everything he surely noticed in that last year in the band. It described all the coldness Louis projected onto him. His eyes showed all the hurt he always struggled to hide from his previous best friend.

“It was so vague I didn’t think anything of it. They never once mentioned you, Haz. I thought – I thought if you and I, or any of that, were an issue, they would have said something. But they didn’t, so I signed it. I realized what I did a week later when they told me I had to move out of our house, start dating Eleanor, stop wearing tight trousers and shit, and stop – stop hanging out ‘publicly’ with you.”

Harry’s frown was deeper than he’d ever seen before. His fists clenched at his sides, and he uncrossed his legs to sit more upright. Louis patted his thigh, but it did nothing to quell the anger rippling off of Harry’s muscles.

“What the fuck? How could – why didn’t you tell me? I – I thought you hated me!”

Louis groaned, mentally cursing himself out. He sat back, pulling his hands tougher to grip his own thighs tightly. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have told you – I just – it was that night that we had that row. After that, I thought it’d be easier if you thought I hated you.”

Harry snorted, crossing his arms. “That wasn’t your decision to make, Louis.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just had a lot going through my head after…”

“After I kissed you.” Harry said, eyes boring into his own. Louis felt all the overwhelming emotions from that night jump to life within him again. He gulped as Harry continued looking at him. “After you rejected me.”

Louis clenched his eyes shut, wishing he could redo that night so badly. “I’m sorry.” Three months prior to that night, he’d broken up with Danielle. He knew something felt wrong. He knew when he dreaded her visit, wishing he could stay cuddled up with Harry in the bus rather than with her in a king sized hotel bed that something was wrong. So he ended it. For those three months, he felt like he could finally be himself by Harry’s side with nothing holding him back. He realized he flirted with Harry so much more than he ever did with Danielle or Eleanor, who’d wiggled her way into his arms, but not pants, a few times after Danielle.

“Why? Was I completely off base?”

Louis shook his head with a tired sigh. He’d talked about that night with his mum a thousand times by now. She’d helped him see all the ways he’d hurt Harry, and he hated thinking about it.

“No. I was the one off base. When you kissed me, it kind of confirmed all the things I’d been realizing about my sexuality. And I was so angry because just a week before, I had signed away the right to be gay. I knew it immediately. They’d already done so much to squish down the Larry rumors I knew they’d never be on board with us.”

Harry looked like he was on the verge of crying as he gently took Louis’ hand between his two. “I would have understood hiding it. I – I just wanted to be with you.”

Louis patted the hand that rested over top his with his free one. “I know, love, but it felt unfair to force you to hide something that would have been such a big part of your life.”

Harry’s pout continued. “As if I didn’t already hide things.”

Louis tilted his head as he observed the meek man sitting beside him. He looked so fragile here, like he needed to be cared after. Louis knew that was far from the truth. He’d seen all sides of Harry, including the one where he power-walked down a runway with eyes fit for a king. No. Harry didn’t need cared after, but sometimes, Louis wanted to anyways.

“You don’t anymore.” Harry looked up at him curiously, and he let go of his hand to throw an arm on the back of the couch. Louis loved that he could feel the heat radiating off him. “In what counts.”

Harry deliberated what he was going to say for a while. His eyes danced across Louis’ face for a minute, feeling him out. “I don’t think I would have taken the rejection so hard if we could have been friends after, but you could barely stand to be in the same room as me.”

Louis pressed his lips together. He didn’t come over here intending to rehash old issues, but this didn’t feel like that exactly. It felt more like finally getting things off their chest they needed to do for years. “That would be because I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head every time I saw you, yeah. Hard to not feel like every touch was the equivalent to one on my dick after you were my sexual awakening, Haz.”

When their eyes met, they both burst out laughing, shoulders falling against the other hard. “Your sexual awakening? Really? Fucking hell, Louis.”

Louis continued giggling, letting his head bury into Harry’s chest. “Well it’s the bloody truth! Sorry!”

Harry nearly screamed, grabbing Louis by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. “Stop bloody apologizing! If I hadn’t forgiven you, do you really think I would sit here asking about your sexual awakening?”

Louis rolled his eyes before reluctantly smiling at Harry. “Alright then. Stop saying sexual awakening.”

Harry hummed. “Nah. Normally it’s me fumbling over words, not you. Gotta savor this one.”

“You’re terrible.”

Harry poked his tongue out of his lips. “I can now confidently say I don’t believe you.”

“God, that’s going to get old.

. . .

It did get old. Harry seemed to make it his mission to check in on Louis every week. They both weren’t terribly busy, and Louis desperately wished he could see him in person, but he supposed some detailed texts were better than nothing.

Harry always recapped his week in the most modest, boring way possible for a celebrity prepping for SNL skits. The time zones were off, so when Harry said he was trying to craft funny skits to contribute towards his time hosting SNL, Louis was drinking with Niall and Liam at Niall’s house.

“What are you smiling at your phone for?” Niall asked, pointing his beer in Louis’ direction and nearly letting some slosh out the opening.

“Did your mum send you more cute baby pictures?” Liam asked, eyes lighting up. His son, Bear, was past the adorable age of babyhood and into the traumatic, loud, chaotic stage. He was always eager to see more pictures of cute babies to forget about the devil inside them.

“No. Haven’t actually heard from her lately. Need to check in,” Louis said as he responded to the last text. When he looked up, Niall had a hesitant expression on his face. “Wut?”

“Did you just text someone named Curly Styles? As in your old nickname for Harry?” Niall asked, voice rising. Liam’s eyes grew wide, and he turned his full attention away from the movie on screen to state at Louis like he was wielding an axe.

“Yeah. Ran into him a while back, and we caught up.”

Liam snorted loudly, snot flying out of his nose in a disgusting manner. “No way. You can’t tell me you two fixed things that easily.”

Louis sighed, setting his phone down so he could fully face Liam and Niall. “We did. I did, more like.”

“How so…?” Niall asked, piercing eyes trying to pull the information out of him.

Suddenly, Liam gasped, spilling his drink all over him and Louis on the couch. The older lad jumped up with a mouth full of curses. “You came out to him, didn’t you? You had to have! He was so hurt there’s no other way you could have fixed it. He actually has some semblance of his worth when it comes to you now.”

Niall muttered under his breath, “Sort of…”

Louis kicked at them both. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Liam crossed his arms, eyebrows raising slightly as he peered up at Louis. Somehow, his arrogant expression only made Louis feel shorter. “We mean you used the shit out of Harry for years. Didn’t know it, of course, but you knew nothing could break his love for you, so you took it all in and didn’t give it back in the way he clearly wanted it.”

Louis refused to look at either of them. “Fuck. It wasn’t clear to me, alright? I was fucking confused about everything.” Niall giggled, like the idea of Louis not realizing his sexuality was hilarious. Louis glared.

“In your defense, we both think you loved him as much as he loved you,” Niall said.

Liam grumbled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah. Except we’re the idiots who urged him to tell you how he felt. We didn’t know you were having a sexuality crisis.”

Louis threw his hands in the air. “It wasn’t a crisis! It was a realization!”

Niall’s giggled vibrated off the walls. Liam and he continued making jokes toward Louis, so he ignored them in favor of texting Harry about it. Unfortunately, Harry also sent back laughing faces.

Didn’t know you kept in touch with them too.

1D reunion sometime?

Louis’ eyes lit up. “Guys! Harry said we need to hang out!”

Niall raised an eyebrow. “What did he really say?”

Louis groaned. “One direction reunion.” Harry always would be full of terrible jokes. Liam snorted. They all knew that couldn’t happen until their management teams devised a way to split all the profits and such. It would be a mess and far too soon while Louis was still under Modest Management. “Let’s go to New York.”

Both of them choked on their drinks. “Dude. That’s a long flight.”

Niall clamped Louis on the shoulder. “We’re not love struck and willing to put up with a ridiculous flight just to see Harry, who will be back here in a month.”

Louis whined, shaking his hand off his shoulder. “I haven’t seen him in weeks already. Come on. He’s lonely over there.”

Liam chortled. “You mean with all his model friends? Yeah. Sure.”

The idea that anyone had Harry’s interest indefinitely irked Louis, but he pushed it aside. He had no right to that anymore. Louis continued looking at them with puppy dog eyes, pleading them to go along with his plan. “I’ll pay for your flights!”

“We’re all rich.”

“It’s the thought that count.”

Eventually, he got Niall to agree. Liam said he had to check with his team to see if he had enough free time. With some rearranging, they booked a flight for tomorrow morning.

“A hungover day-long flight. Yay.”

. . .

To say Harry wasn’t expecting them knocking on his dressing room door was an understatement. Louis told Liam and Niall that he’d asked Harry if they could stay at his place for three days. The thing was he really wanted to surprise Harry, both because the boy loved surprises and because he wanted to see his reaction.

He wanted to know if there was a reason Harry wouldn’t want them coming over.

“Why’s your camera out, Louis?” Niall asked as Liam knocked on the door. A smirk wiggled its way onto his lips, and the look of horror on Niall’s face as he realized his plan only made it grow more. “You didn’t tell him!”

“Didn’t tell him what?” Liam asked, turning to look at them as he knocked again. Before either of them could respond, the door swung open.

“Jimmy, for the last time, I’m not wearing a banana-ah! You – I – what…” Harry had jumped a foot back when he took in the three of them. A bright, incredulous smile formed as his eyes connected mirthful blue ones. “Louis. I should have expected this.”

“You should have. Why else would I care what you’re doing in a minute-by-minute schedule?” Louis ended the recording, deciding he’d play that back and imagine that was his reaction to seeing just Louis surprise him. Louis ducked under Harry’s arm and entered his dressing room, which was the same one they got years ago for the four of them when they came here as a band.

“You’ve been asking about my daily plans since I got here.” Harry pointed out, to which Louis waved his hand flippantly. “Sorry. It’s a mess in here. Come in, lads! Didn’t expect to see you all together again in…years. God. Wow”

“Aw, he’s getting emotional,” Niall said, pulling Harry in for a hug before following Louis onto the couch.

“Told you,” Louis said in a sing-song voice.

“Actually, Louis told us he’d confirmed plans with you before we flew across the globe.” Liam glared in Louis’ direction. Seeing him angry always made Louis laugh. It was always amusing. Harry joined him. “He said you suggested a reunion.”

Harry beamed proudly, sitting beside Louis on the couch. If Louis scooted slightly closer, he blamed it on fearing that Niall would fart. Liam took a seat in the chair by Niall’s side. “It’s about bloody time you two got your shite sorted. Been missing our fifa tournaments.”

Louis let out a long breath of air, not meeting their eyes. Niall and Liam only knew briefly of his situation. “I’ve got to host tonight, but I’ll be done by ten. Don’t start without me,” Harry said, sending a wink over to Liam. It made Louis sit up straighter.

“We’re staying at your place, Haz. In case you were wondering,” Louis said, kicking his feet up on the ottoman. Harry grinned, throwing an arm around the back of the couch, arm radiating heat.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Niall knows the codes, so feel free to head over there whenever. I’ve got to run in…five minutes ago.” Harry patted Louis’ arm and pushed off the couch. His eyes followed the man as he straightened out his suit. He’d already filmed a portion of the show. It wasn’t a live taping, though. The only thing he had left to do today was film a game with Kendell Jenner that consisted of eating shitty food and answering shitty questions.

Harry’s flat fit in perfectly with the rest of New York City. The modern black and white design of each room changed only slightly in patterns, and it was quite minimalistic for his personality. It was definitely too trendy for Louis’ taste, and he made sure to remind himself to tease the man about this later on. For some reason, he’d expected a pink staircase or something else completely extra. Then again, this was only one of his three homes.

“I call the jungle themed room!” Niall said, flinging his bag by the couch regardless.

“Oo! I’ll take the beach room then.” Liam, too, let his bag fall to the ground by the couch. Louis’ bag was half the size of theirs seeing as they were only staying for three days.

“Bloody hell, you’ve both stayed here and I haven’t? Shitty deal.” Louis huffed, placing his bag beside Liam’s. “Alright. What room do I get? Give me a tour, lads.”

Niall snorted as he began digging around in a cabinet, most likely for the playstation. Liam scratched his head sheepishly, avoiding looking at Louis. “The couch, Tommo. Harry only has two guest rooms.”

“What?” Louis shouted, eyes going wide with the implication Niall held in his voice, like the couch was the last place Louis would be staying. “He’s bloody richer than all of us! How does he only have two guest rooms?”

Liam chuckled as he picked his way through Harry’s kitchen. “He barely comes to New York. We’re shocked he hasn’t sold this place yet. Never took the time to decorate it, either. I don’t think he cared about the size or any of that. Just got it so he wouldn’t have to stay in a hotel for a week during tours and interviews.”

Louis groaned, falling back on the impossibly soft couch. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, but he still had to give them shit for it. “Could have told me that before we decided to stay here.”

“Not like you won’t be crawling into his bed after an hour anyways.” Louis promptly threw the remote at Niall for his disrespectful words. “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”

“Come on, Lou. You know it’ll happen,” Liam chimed in, coming back with a hand full of nuts. It made Louis’ stomach turn. He decided to order some takeaway for them all and force feed Harry the greasiest item when he got back. Vegan, of course. Wouldn’t want to scar the man completely.

“It will not! We’re actual adults now, gentlemen. He and I are hardly as close as we were in the band, anyhow. Now shut up about it.”

Niall murmured something that sounded suspiciously about how they were adults during almost all of the band years, too, but Louis ignored that. They did begin their fifa match without Harry. The beer stored in the fridge was far too expensive for Louis’ tastes, but he drank it anyways. By the time the food arrived, he was already feeling some of the effects.

The door opened hours later, creaking slightly. “Haz, I got you some vegan shite in the fridge. Want me to nuke it for you?”

Niall made a whipping sound that Louis pointedly ignored.

“Uh, can you come here, Lou?”

Liam cackled as he frantically stabbed at his controller. Niall was killing him regardless. “Uh oh. Someone’s in trouble.” Louis flipped him his middle finger before pushing off the couch, finding Harry standing in the kitchen. His eyes surveyed Louis hesitantly, and his hand ran through his hair.

“Haz?”

He breathed out slowly, eyes going wide. “Don’t get mad.” An unsettled feeling came over Louis. Harry normally one for nervousness, not around Louis. “But you all surprised me, so I thought it was only fair to do the same.”

Louis chuckled slightly, looking around Harry to see if he had a gift bag or something. “Why would I be mad then?” Harry rocked back on his heels. He wore terribly old converse that tracked mud into the white tile. Considering how clean Harry used to be, it shocked Louis he hadn’t taken them off yet. “You’ve made a right mess, love.”

Harry laughed sharply. “Okay. Just remember I did this because I love you, alright?”

Louis blinked quickly as his heart shot off spikes of adrenaline. He didn’t know if it was out of fear or excitement. They used to say they loved each other all the time, even when Louis was truly dating someone. It was normal. He just hadn’t heard it in so long. Before he could truly process that, Harry grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the door.

“Make nice with him, alright?”

Harry pushed Louis in front of him before turning around and heading back to the kitchen. Standing at the doorway, arms crossed, was Zayn Malik. Louis felt his throat tighten at the sight of his old friend, and he, too, crossed his arms. A weight settled in his gut, both at knowing Harry planned this, and that he now had to deal with Zayn on a night that he’d hoped was going to be fun.

“Malik. What are you doing here?”

Zayn sighed, hands shoving into his pockets. His eyes bore into Louis tiredly, and it was hard to read his expression. “Don’t do that, Louis. Don’t get defensive.”

“I’m not defensive,” Louis hissed. “You’re the one who should be defensive. I did nothing wrong.”

Zayn huffed. “You’re literally the definition of defensive right now.”

Louis threw his hands up. “So what? Just come here to throw more insults my way? You’re out of your fooking mind. Get out of here.”

“It’s not your home,” Zayn said, eyes softening. “Can we talk?”

Louis didn’t want to. It was the last thing he wanted. “I dunno. Can you stand to hear my voice? It’s so…unappealing, innit?”

Zayn groaned, palm running over his face like he was exhausted. “Lou. Come on. I’m sorry.”

“Oh really? Well that fixes everything! Fixes all the thousands of shite people who were fueled on by your tweets. It really shows them that a talented singer like yourself didn’t know what he was saying back then, hmm?” Zayn opened his mouth to respond, but Louis was too angry to let that happen. “Why the fuck are you here? We’re not friends. We never were, apparently. A friend would never bash me on twitter for something they knew I was – was worried about! You’re out of your mind-,”

“I’m sorry, Louis! I – I don’t know what else to say! I was angry, and you stopped talking to me when I left the band, and – I was scared, alright? I didn’t know what I was doing, and you were supposed to be someone I could go to when I needed help!” Zayn shouted back, voice broken and torn. He gestured toward the living room. “They all understood. They knew I was suffocating. They-,”

“We all were suffocating!” Louis yelled, uncaring who all heard. He hoped Harry heard. He hoped he regretted this. “We all were exhausted and used and controlled! Niall was in physical pain for months. Liam didn’t go a day without alcohol for months. Harry was shamed for each outfit and each thought he had, painted as a bloody womanizer! And I – I was forced so far into the closet I didn’t even realize I was gay because I thought it was so bloody wrong thanks to Simon!” He was panting now, completely out of breath as his angry glare bore into Zayn’s frightened eyes. “The difference was we had each other. And we didn’t abandon each other. Unlike you.”

Zayn’s eyes grew wet. It felt like hours before he spoke, taking a hesitant step forward. The pain Louis felt was reflected right back at him. “Except you all did leave a year later. And you abandoned Harry long before then. If he’s forgiven you, can’t you at least try with me?”

Louis felt a sickness rising in his throat. Zayn’s gaze moved over his shoulder, and Louis turned around to see Harry standing in front of Liam and Niall. Their eyes were more pleading than Zayn’s. Louis felt like his skin was ripped open, and the four of them desperately were trying to sear him back together.

“Come on, Lou. We all know you’re an amazing singer. He’s been apologizing to you for over a year.”

Louis’ fists clenched. The thick ball in his throat refused to be pushed away. When he turned back to Zayn, the man was far closer to him, enough that if Louis reached out, he could touch him. When he spoke, his words were just for Louis.

“I’m also sorry I wasn’t there for you when you figured things out with Harry,” Zayn said, eyes full of honesty. Louis reared back, ready to refute that statement, but Zayn grabbed his shoulders. “You know – that you’re Harry-sexual? Hazzexual, as we got to calling it.”

Louis huffed, looking away as he muttered, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’d be happy with any dick ‘cept yours.”

Zayn’s smile was bigger than Louis remembered, and he pulled the pair together tightly, burying his face into his shoulder. “There’s that deadly humor I missed.”

Louis rolled his eyes, finally hugging him back tightly. He smelled of cigarettes and cologne, the same one from the days of the band. Louis wondered if wore that on purpose or if he still always used that same one.

“Awww.”

The three boys behind Louis chorused sounds of adoration, to which Louis spun out of Zayn’s grasp and directed a finger into Harry’s face. “You! You little fucker-,”

“I did it because I love you, Lou!”

“I don’t bloody care!” Louis shoved at his chest heatedly. His eyes raked up and down Harry’s body, taking in the disheveled, exhausted way his clothes hung off his body. “You’ll pay for this. Come on, lads. Beating you all at FIFA has been long overdue!”

The FIFA tournament lasted a few hours, all of them steadily drinking far more than they ought to. When Zayn wasn’t playing, he showed off pictures of his newly born baby. Louis told Zayn he hoped she got Gigi’s genes, but then again, they all knew she’d be gorgeous either way. After Louis thoroughly cooed over baby pictures and his ultimate win, they settled deep into the couch and threw on an old film.

“Just like back in the band!” Niall clapped as Grease began. Louis shushed him, but the talkative Irishman never listened. “Seriously. Zayn’s over there on his phone, this time talking to Gigi instead of planning his escape-,”

“Too soon, man,” Liam hissed.

“- Liam is pouting and cranky over his FIFA loss. I’m drunk. And Harry is cuddled up to Louis.”

Louis shrugged, glancing to his lap where Harry’s eyes were fighting to stay awake. He ran his hands through his curls, enjoying the thick feel of them. “Normally one of us would be writing a song, though,” Louis said.

“As in you, Lou.” Harry’s chuckle vibrated Louis’ thighs, making him grin. He dug a finger into his dimple, which made Harry stick out his tongue cheekily. Fire seeped into Louis’ gut, and it was so hard to push down. “What? Not a bad thing. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to write about.”

“Yeah.” Liam jeered. “How many songs about dicks do you have hidden away?”

Harry sighed. “Come on, Liam.”

Louis chuckled, keeping his hands in their steady rhythm despite the rise in his heartrate. He knew they were all accepting of any sexuality, but Louis never talked to anyone in detail about stuff like that except Zayn and Harry, but even that was all hypothetical. Liam and Niall didn’t normally bring it up, so his comment sort of shocked Louis.

“Oh you know. Just a thousand. Want me to write one about yours, is that it?” Louis winked, making Liam flush all over. Niall cackled into the popcorn bowl.

“Nah, I bet you do have one or two, though. I mean, if you wrote No Control, I’m a little scared to think about what you wrote after you actually got some dick,” Zayn said, waving his drink at Louis. He stiffened slightly, not sure how to make another evasive comment about that.

“Uh, I dunno.”

“How do you not know?” Niall asked, both laughing and serious. Louis huffed, now growing angry. Harry wasn’t straight either, so he didn’t know why the questions were directed solely at him.

“Because I just haven’t got them, that’s why.”

“What?” Liam giggled. It sounded ridiculous. “Songs or dicks?”

“Why are we talking about-?” Harry began, but Louis knew he was a shit liar. His cheeks burned, and he couldn’t look at any one of them. Harry, at least, could feel how rigid his body had gone.

“The, uh, second.” Louis sighed, cracking a half-hearted smile as he looked around the room. “Still getting managed, remember? Still with El. I haven’t found anyone I trust not to tell, that’s all.”

The room had gone completely silent. Louis looked first at Zayn, part of him worried he’d use this bit of private insecurity against him, too. He supposed he’d always worry about that, but right now, all he saw was pity. It didn’t feel great, but at least he was compassionate about it. Liam looked uncomfortable, clearly guilty at having brought this up. Niall wasn’t even smiling, just sipping quickly at his drink like he needed a distraction.

Harry was the last person he wanted to know about this for some reason. He felt like a fake, suddenly, even though Louis knew full-heartedly he was gay. “Hey.” His voice made Louis jump, and when he looked down, Harry offered him a soft smile that relieved Louis of all his anxiety. “One day, yeah?”

Louis let go of all the air he’d been holding. “Yeah.”

Niall started a conversation about what restaurants they should eat at tomorrow and how much he missed the food here. It created a debate with Zayn and Liam about what places would actually keep their identities secret. It was a pointlessly heated debate that Louis had no interest in, so he continued stroking Harry’s cheek and looking at the greens of his eyes.

“You look tired,” Harry said, and he was only half wrong. Louis felt exhausted, but he didn’t think sleep would help. He nodded regardless. “Let’s get you to bed then.”

“Problem is you’re all on it.”

Louis watched Harry mentally do the math concerning the layout of his house. Then, he scowled. “You’re not taking this rigid couch.” It definitely didn’t compare to his couch back in London, but Louis wouldn’t say that. He pushed Harry down when he tried to get up, but he moved anyways. “Come on.”

“Where are ya going?” Niall asked as Harry pulled Louis toward the stairs. He kept his back to the lads, not brave enough to confirm the smirks dancing across Zayn and Liam’s faces. Niall would have one, too, once he took a moment.

“To bed. Night lads. Let’s go out tomorrow. Zayn, you in?”

He nodded. “Gigi’s been wanting to go out. We should check out Ozone. They’re the best with celebrity privacy and all that.”

“Perfect. Let me know if you need any toiletries,” Harry said in his ever-polite tone. His hosting abilities were impeccable. The snickers that followed them up the stairs were easy to filter out with the fog clogging Louis’ brain. “My bed is huge. Think it’s a little better than the couch.”

Louis pouted up at Harry, ignoring the height difference. “You don’t mind?”

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis and buried his head into his neck. “Lou. Seriously. Get into bed.”

“Fine. But I’m taking you with me.” Louis dove forward, keeping his hands tightly clasped on Harry’s arms. The weight of him on his back pressed Louis into the soft bed, and it should have been annoying, but Louis found himself sighing at the comforting pressure. Harry pressed himself up to hover over Louis, making him whine.

“Did I kill you?”

Louis snorted, wiggling his bum slightly as he tried to dig back into the hole they’d formed in the bed that fit his body perfectly. “You couldn’t kill me. Now I’m cold though.”

“I can get you a blanket. Or you could get under the sheets like a normal human.”

Louis whined and turned to his back so Harry could see the pout on his face. “That’s no fun.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smile forming slowly. He still hovered over Louis, so close the space between them was filled with a miniscule electric charge. He wished it would disappear completely.

“I agree.”

Louis’ eyes burned with the need for sleep, and he knows Harry’s did too. Red, bloodshot green eyes stared down at him in a calculating manner, as if patiently waiting his next move. “Stay.”

Louis mentally listed off the all the reasons he had prepared to give Harry to convince him. It turned out unnecessary. “Okay.”

Harry rolled off Louis, which was only slightly disappointing aside from the fact that he lied on his side as close to Louis as possible. “Just like the old days.” Louis matched his posture, their knees bumping as he got comfortable on his side. He couldn’t help but snort at his comment, prompting Harry to nudge him. “What’s so funny?”

“Well, it’s just like the old days for me, that’s for sure.”

“How do you mean?”

With a slow eye roll, Louis met his gaze in exasperation. Harry was the definition of innocence, and he probably was one of the only one of the boys that would be so kind about it. “You know how I mean.”

“Is this about what Zayn said? About not having someone?”

Louis shrugged his shoulder. “Guess so. I mean, Zayn’s married to Gigi. Liam’s engaged. Niall is dating whatever golfer bird he finds interesting. You’re – well, I dunno, actually, but I’d assume you’ve had some fun with the freedom. And I’m still stuck miserably with the same girlfriend I’ve never found remotely attractive.”

Harry hummed. “Well, I do remember that time I walked in on you snogging her.”

Louis raised an eyebrow, quite unimpressed. “I knew you were coming back. You left your phone on the couch.” A flash of hurt crossed his face, and Louis raised his hand to his cheek. “I was trying to suppress it back then. Every time I – I caught myself wanting you, I kind of did shit like that.”

Harry broke into an amused grin, one that shouldn’t have been there at all. “Oh, so used Eleanor to dig the knife into my heart a little deeper, yeah?”

Louis winced. It would have stung so much more if it weren’t for the fond look Harry gave him. “Alright. I was a selfish little shit, I know. I’m sorry. El gives me crap for it all the time. You should try it. She really gets off on it, I think.”

Harry frowned now, scooting so close they shared the same pillow. His breath smelled like the weird beer he liked that held a tinge of peach to it. “You were going through a lot. Besides, it really strokes my ego to know I turned you on at least on a weekly basis.”

Louis’ cheeks burned. It was more than a weekly basis, but Louis managed to suppress it down to roughly only one sexually-tension-driven row a week. “Yes. Your narcissism has only grown. In a healthy, rightful way, though.”

Harry let out his loud cackle that Louis had missed so dearly. He even risked scooting closer, to the point if he just leaned a little closer, their lips would touch. As it is, he could feel every breath Harry took. The way he clung to each breath felt pathetic.

“Rightful, is it?”

“Well, what do I know? I’m barely gay.”

Harry groaned. “Would you stop making that joke? It’s not funny anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because I can tell part of you takes it seriously, and – and I don’t like that.” Louis opened his mouth to protest. He had many reasons to feel ridiculous in his certainty of being gay despite successfully having sex with women and only women. “Louis. You know. I know you know.”

“Well, I feel like a phony, and you can’t change how I feel. So shut up about it.” Louis snapped, shocking both of them. His throat thickened, and he felt a little embarrassed, which was hard to do in only Harry’s presence.

“I can change why you feel that way, though.” Harry said, hand slowly moving to grip his waist. The moment was hesitant and slow, like he was scared his skin would burn him. Maybe he was scared Louis would burn him like he used to years ago. “Can I kiss you? Properly. Without you shutting me out. Um, then you can know for sure.”

Louis wanted to crack a witty reply. With anyone else, he would have said, ‘you really think that’s how influential your kiss is?’ He would also have pointed out that Louis had kissed a few men before. It was getting past kissing, past what he couldn’t blame on excessive alcohol, that gave him trouble.

But this was Harry. This was the man with medium length curls that Louis dreamed of running his fingers through. This was the man whose tears shocked him more than lightning, and whose laughter was brighter than the sun. This was the man who starred in his dreams more often than he talked to his sisters.

“Y-yeah. Please.”

The hand on his waist tightened, and then Louis found himself pressed directly against Harry’s body. His breath hitched as Harry gaze held his transfixed. The hard panes of his fit torso and lustful thighs felt warm and amazing against him. Louis’ eyes fluttered shut as his thumb dipped just slightly between his shirt and trousers.

Harry’s lips were wet and soft, barely daring to touch his own. Even at just the light brush, his heart rate spiked, and Louis found himself fisting Harry’s shirt and pulling Harry down onto Louis as he fell back on the bed.

Louis’ lips followed Harry’s, chasing him in the way a dog chased its tail. The kiss felt endlessly terrifying. As Harry’s tongue slid into his mouth, tasting his skin, Louis saw himself jumping off a waterfall that seemed three feet tall and ended up being thirty. There was no coming back from this kiss. The way Harry’s lips glided over his own, tinged with care and desire, would be impossible to find anywhere else.

His body pressed Louis into the bed again, and Louis sighed into the kiss. He let his fingers card through his mess of curls, and to Louis’ delight, he could feel more than hear a small moan from Harry. It made him fight off a smirk poorly, but Harry broke the kiss anyway. His eyes jumped between Louis’ for only half a second, and there was no mistaking the desire in both their gazes.

Harry kissed him again, a little firmer this time. Then, he moved his lips to kiss at his jaw, and a little lower, at his throat. This was different from all the lovebites they’d shared during the band years. This was a slower kiss, mixed with slow but intense pressure that had Louis groaning, arching his body up a little.

The smug chuckle pissed Louis off, though, and without thinking, he tightened his grip on his hair and pulled the man’s head back. Dark eyes met his, a challenge resting in them. Licking his lips, Louis ducked his head and latched onto Harry’s neck. First, he kissed down until he found the spot he knew Harry liked far too much to be platonic. Instantly, his lower body fell onto Louis’ completely, making them both suck in air relentlessly. When Louis bit into the skin and sucked, wanting to make a mark bigger than his own, Harry openly moaned, head thrown back. Louis melted at the sound.

Suddenly, he pulled away, breathless and doe eyed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Harry smiled at that, a smile that was tired, but tired things were always so pure. This was the Harry he’d known in the very beginning. This was the one he’d blindly strived to please in every pure way he knew how.

“Well?”

Louis licked his lips. “Definitely gay.”

“Thought so,” Harry said, wobbling from where he hovered over him. With a roll of his eyes, Louis pulled Harry down, face pressing into the crook of his neck. His weight pressing Louis into the bed threatened to push him into sleep immediately. “Mhmm. You smell good.”

“You smell tired.”

“That’s not a smell.”

“I’m not wrong though. Sleep, babe.”

Harry sighed, letting his body relax. He was half on top of Louis and half on the bed, and it was undoubtedly the most comfortable Louis felt in years as he closed his eyes.