Work Text:
✨
His mum always says that Louis has loved Harry since the second he saw him. It shouldn’t be possible since he was just a two year old boy at said time, but she says that little toddler Louis caressed baby Harry’s cheek, kissed his bumpy head, and held his tiny fingers throughout Jay’s visit. She always says it’s a miracle that the little hurricane that is Louis Tomlinson managed to stay still for a whole hour, and be that gentle with the newborn. Neither of them remember any of it, of course, only their mothers do, but he loves hearing either of them tell the story, especially whenever he’s feeling down and Louis is not there.
✨
Harry loves Louis deeply, that’s blatant and it’s mutual, they’ve discussed it; but lately, Harry’s been wondering if there’s something more about his feelings than plain friendship. He’s been wondering if the increasing amount of times he catches himself staring at Louis’ face, at his tiny hands, at his fit body, is unusual. Is it unusual that he even notices that Louis is fit?
It all started on his 15th birthday. The five of them had gone to the bungalow to celebrate sans parents, for the weekend. On Saturday, Louis had woken him up sometime after midnight and dragged him to the pool claiming he couldn’t sleep. Such a Louis thing to do. They stripped to go in, it wasn’t unusual to be completely naked among the lads, after all Harry had a passion for nudity and the boys had gotten used to it. Harry was still a bit hazy from sleep and he watched in a daze as Louis took off piece after piece of clothing. A spark deep inside Harry ignited and started growing that day, felt like hunger, but not quite, a bit of longing, a bit of want, need…
He tried to bury that feeling inside him. Pretend it was just the haziness of being half asleep. It wasn’t. Soon, Harry couldn’t look at Louis anymore without wanting to kiss him. So he did the only thing he could think of: he threw himself at girls. He had kissed a couple of them already, but after that realization he kissed a lot more. He wanted to find a girl who could make him forget about wanting Louis. Nobody did. The kissing was good and all, but it wasn’t working for him anymore. He kept trying.
✨
Harry loved Louis. Then, he was in love with Louis.
If you'd ask him, Harry wouldn’t be able to tell you when exactly his feelings for Louis changed, only when he noticed. The bungalow was the physical part, the emotional part came a few months later, in April.
Louis had been with Eleanor for ten months by then. She was sweet and caring, and most importantly, she didn’t mind hanging around with the five of them. Harry knew everything about their relationship. He knew it before Louis did when he started liking her, he was the first to know about their first dates, first handjobs, first time. It hadn’t been a problem when it happened on Louis’ 17th birthday, he had been happy for Lou. After the bungalow, though, it was killing him.
Harry is a jealous man, there, he admits it. He gets jealous if his friends get too close to someone else, he gets jealous if the girl he kisses, kisses another boy on the same night. He gets jealous. It’s noticeable in the way he stares and broods. After the bungalow, he has done a lot of that.
The boys and Louis all notice but can’t pinpoint what he’s brooding about and Harry does his best to tone it down to avoid them finding that out. He fails.
“What’s going on with you?” Zayn asks him one day while the rest of the boys are playing footie.
“What do you mean?”
“Mate, you are brooding over Lou and El. Don’t play dumb.”
“W-what? ‘M not.” He reverts to a sullen toddler.
Zayn ignores him. “Is it over El or Lou, then? I’m thinking Lou.”
“I’m, uh, I’m not, I didn’t, I’m not gay, Zayn!” He panics.
“So it is Lou. Mate it’s fine if you are gay, or bi, it wouldn’t matter to any of us, you know that, right? I’m just a bit worried if you’re gonna be alright. Lou is happy with El, now, Hazza, and I don’t know if he’d swing that way even if he wasn’t. I’m sorry, Haz.”
He could deny it, but Zayn is the quiet observer type, the I-see-everything-from-my-dark-corner kind of guy. Few things fly past him and he means well. He’ll keep quiet, too. Harry takes a few deep breaths.
“I know,” he says simply.
“Is it serious?”
It hits him then, it is. It is serious. He’s in love with the arsehole currently jumping to Niall’s back making them both fall over. It’s the worst and best, most overwhelming feeling he has ever felt, and the realization that he probably won’t ever get to have Lou crushes over him with a painful stab in his chest. Still, his first thought is to run to Louis for comfort.
“Yeah.”
Zayn just puts his arm around his shoulder and kisses his head.
✨
A few months later, Louis breaks up with Eleanor. Apparently she isn’t that okay with hanging out with the boys all the time. Harry vaguely wonders if it’s because of his brooding and killer glares. He should feel guilty about it. He doesn’t. He shouldn’t be happy about it, he shouldn’t, but he is, a bit. Above all else, Louis is his best friend and he wants him to be happy, but he is so bloody relieved. And when Louis is a lot more cuddly than usual, looking for comfort in Harry, there’s a warmth deep in his chest and in every bit of skin that Louis touches.
He’s so gone for him.
Louis starts kissing a girl here and there at parties a few months later. Harry hates it, passionately. He does his best to entertain Louis, keep him away from them, and be the ultimate cock-block. Zayn gently cautions him against it, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind or notice that much.
✨
Out of the blue, he slips.
It’s Saturday night and they are at a party. Niall is being kissed aggressively by a girl in a corner. Liam’s eyes are almost completely closed in his drunkenness and laughter, Zayn is watching over him and feeding him chips and water. Louis is dancing madly and drunkenly with a girl, so Harry —who is also drunk and jealous— grabs his hand then Niall’s and pulls both of them out to go home. Zayn, of course, pulls Liam behind them. It’s almost 2 a.m now, so that’s his excuse when Niall bugs him about abandoning the girl he was kissing the whole way home, but Louis is loudly singing some The Fray song, so it’s fine.
The house is vacant when they loudly make it in. They sing up the stairs and when they climb on the bed, Louis takes Harry’s usual side. Classic Louis. So they wrestle for it. They’ve done this a hundred times before, but Harry has changed since the last time.
Harry tries to take back his side of the bed by climbing over Louis and pushing him the other way, but when he’s straddling his way to the other side, Louis starts tickling him, so he hastily tries to pin his hands by the wrists above their heads and oh . In between the wrestling and the rubbing Harry has become hard, and the feel against Louis’ jeans is causing fireworks to explode in his body.
Being so close to Louis, on top of him, their faces almost touching, it’s electric, it’s everything he’s wanted in a very long time. He keeps trying to gain control of Louis’ wrists while moving his hips in a way he hopes Louis doesn’t notice. This is nuts. He shouldn’t be doing this, Louis’ drunker than Harry, too, but it feels so freaking good and Louis keeps moving his hips while wrestling like nothing’s amiss. He won’t ever know what Harry’s doing. He doesn’t need to know. His mind is hazy. This is so wrong. He’s gonna stop… In a bit… It’s so good… Just a bit more… Fire consumes him… Just a bit—
His orgasm sneaks up on him suddenly, faster than it has in years, no fair warning, no build up, and he can’t take back the loud groan that escapes him. No fucking way Louis didn’t notice that.
His mind is no longer hazy now, he’s not even drunk anymore. He's panicking. What did I do! What did I do! He rolls off of Louis and mumbles something about a shower. He practically runs to his bathroom and the stupid bathroom is too close to where Louis is. He shoulda gone to Gemma’s. He wants to cry, to scream, to break something. He turns on the shower and slowly slides down the wall, to sit on the floor of the bathroom hugging his legs. Did he… was that… did he fucking abuse Louis? Was that fucking rape? Abuse? Louis never tried to stop him, he was moving too, he didn’t say ‘no’, but he didn’t consent either, drunkenly not saying ‘no’ doesn’t fucking count, does it? He abused Louis. There’s no other way around it. His drunken, horny, arse abused Louis and he wants to smash his head to the tiles.
He doesn’t. He breathes. He showers because that’s what he said he was gonna do. He holds off his panic attack, his destructive rage against himself, because what he needs to do right now is make sure Louis is okay. That’s the only thing that matters. He needs to apologize, beg forgiveness, but if his life is over after this, so be it. He deserves it. Louis didn’t.
He steps out of the bathroom dressed in the pajamas his subconscious self was smart enough to grab. Louis, thankfully, is still there, he's laying in the same position. His forehead is crunched together in concentration, but he doesn’t seem angry, or sad, or scared. He has that face he makes when he fails an exam he didn’t know to study for: guilty and like he’s chiding himself. Why is he chiding himself? Why is he feeling guilty? Harry doesn’t understand, but the deer-in-the-headlights face Louis makes when he sees Harry and stares at his PJ’s, changes Harry’s begging-for-forgiveness plans in a split-second decision to: “Eh, umm, wanna borrow a PJ? It's, uhm, chilly tonight."
Blessedly, after a second, Louis just answers, "Yeah, yeah, throw me a PJ," and Harry can fucking breathe again, he can feel his own limbs fucking defrost.
He lays in bed while Louis showers. He reviews everything that happened to the detail, obsessively, trying to find anything that he didn’t notice before. It’s the first time he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on in his friend’s head. He hates it with the wrath of a thousand chihuahuas. At least Louis didn’t leave the house, that’s a good sign. Right? Should he apologize? Should they talk about it? Louis seemed relieved when they just didn’t. Maybe he is expecting an apology. Whether he is or he isn’t, it’d be better to do it with both of them sober anyway. He decides to pay special attention to Louis this week, to get a feel of what he’s feeling.
Wow, that’s a long shower.
Oh ! He’ll ask Zayn if Louis is acting weird (without telling him what happened). Zayn always knows about these kinds of things. That makes him feel a tiny bit better.
When the bathroom door finally opens again, Harry, the coward, Styles, pretends to be asleep.
✨
For a couple of days it’s a bit awkward on his part and Louis seems to be awkward in response. Their interactions are a bit stilted, touches hesitant, but it fades quickly enough. Harry watches Louis. Zayn watches the both of them. If Niall and Liam notice something, they don’t bring it up.
✨
On Wednesday, Jay has the day off so the boys go to Harry’s. He forces them to do homework first and then they play Xbox. It starts quite normal, they are thankfully back to their usual interactions by now, so Harry doesn’t think anything of it at first when he dares to be winning in the game and Louis attacks in response.
Louis messes with his controller so Harry pulls it away to his other side. Louis launches himself on top of him to reach for it. Harry falls back with the force of it and pulls the controller as high as he can on the side of his head. Louis keeps reaching for it, trying to take it. He’s completely on top of Harry now, their crotches align and Harry slowly starts to harden in his pants.
He desperately thinks about grandmas in underwear and exorcist-type-puking, but Louis keeps moving just right, so it’s not really helping. Harry is hard and Louis knows it.
The mystery is why Louis isn’t stopping. There’s absolutely no way in hell Louis doesn’t notice. Yet he still isn’t moving away.
Then he feels it. First a twitch and then Louis is getting hard. Fast. Oh for all the gods in the universe ! What should he do? What should he do?
He moves his hips faster.
Louis keeps trying to get the controller for some reason, so Harry indulges him for a bit. Then, he lets it go. The controller falls on the bed and somehow Louis doesn’t stop grinding either. Harry doesn’t know exactly what this means, but he has Louis on top of him, grinding down on his crotch and they are both totally sober and willing. Willing . Louis wants this at least a bit. Harry comes to that though. Stars burst in his eyes and he’s blinded, and warm, and sated.
He comes back to himself thinking he should be embarrassed by his lack of stamina, but just then Louis is coming. He makes a tiny little gasp, and shakes a bit, and he goes limp on top of Harry, his forehead on Harry’s shoulder.
Harry is fucking in love. That’s the single hottest thing he’s ever heard, he’s ever felt. Louis is both the sweetest and the hottest, and having him limp on top of himself is a miracle, it’s perfect. He’s in heaven. The words ‘I love you” are on the tip of his tongue, about to spill out when he feels Louis stiffen. And not in a cool way.
Harry’s heart shatters. Louis didn’t want Harry, he wanted to get off. This was just two hormonal, permanently horny teenagers with a severe lack of boundaries making the mistake of getting off together, not love. Not on Louis’s part. He was probably thinking of someone else. A girl. Louis’s not gay, and he doesn’t love him, not like that.
Harry breaks.
He needs a minute, he needs to breathe, a bit of space away from Louis, but he also needs him to not leave. Louis can shower here, it’s perfect. He tries to keep his tears in and his voice even as he says, “Uhm, I'm gonna shower at Gemma's."
"Yeah, yeah, go." Louis’ voice is dazed, his face is flushed when Harry dares a peak.
Harry takes a short shower because he needs to check on Louis, make sure he’s alright, make sure he doesn’t leave. A few tears fall along with the water, he breathes deep and controls himself, he can’t break right now. He’ll do that later.
He goes commando underneath the clothes he had on since he didn’t grab any pants, and he walks back to his room. The shower is on, so that’s good. He sits on the bed and grabs the controller. He glares at the innocent thing, then he softens. At least he got this, right? This memory is enough, even if Louis doesn’t love him back like that, even if it wasn’t Harry on his mind while it happened. He got to have this, this tiny bit of heaven, and he will pay for it later with his own little version of hell.
"Uhm…"
His heart beats faster. Harry looks up.
"I borrowed..." Louis points to the dresser.
"Uhm yeah, that’s fine."
"I, uhm…" Louis lifts a ball of fabric in his hand a bit. His dirty underwear.
Harry blushes. It’s such a Louis thing to do that it settles his mind a bit. "Ohh, umm..."
Louis blushes too and “Oh…” it causes a smug feeling deep inside him. He made Louis come in his pants, whatever the boy was thinking of, he was the one his body was touching when he came. He gathers himself again. “Uhm, laundry."
"Anne...?"
"I'll do the laundry tomorrow." He promises to Louis, and he promises to himself to treat that pair of pants just the same as his own, no special treatment. No wearing it for a bit after laundry and no stealing it, either, that’s creepy.
Louis drops the boxers in the basket, then seems to think better of it and bends down to delicately cover them with a dirty t-shirt. Harry chuckles. That silly but so Louis thing, warms his heart. He’ll never understand how he could be so gone for him and only now realize it.
While Harry was deep in his thoughts, Louis had sat down next to Harry, with a careful, never-there-before foot of distance between them. They don’t look at each other.
"Uhm, Harry, are we okay?"
Harry breathes again, Louis wants to be okay so they will be. They will be freaking okay. "Yeah, yeah, ‘course, wanna watch a movie?"
They don’t comment on the movie as they usually do. Harry isn’t really sure what it’s even about. They are being weird. He should force Louis to talk it out, but that would involve confessing things. And that would mean losing Louis. So they just watch the freaking movie, and they eat dinner with his family, and they fake it.
Louis doesn't fight over the controller again.
✨
The days pass with them faking it. Everything is awkward. Harry jumps from heartbreak, to regret, to not regretting, to being in love. He expected to fall to pieces that night and each night for a long time, instead, he came to the very mature conclusion that a bit of Louis’ heart is much better than none, and he decides to be grateful for the bit he has.
Zayn asks him what’s going on repeatedly, he can’t answer, he’s not sure himself. Besides, he can talk about his feelings and himself, but he won’t betray Lou’s trust by talking about what they’ve done.
Harry kind of likes keeping what happened for himself, too, his piece of Louis: a tiny gasp, a shake, and the memory of a warm, pliant body on top of his.
“Zayn, let it go, alright? Just make sure he’s alright. Please.”
“Did you tell him?”
“I didn’t and I won’t. You won’t either.”
✨
There’s a party on Saturday and Harry is no longer cock-blocking Louis. He’s avoiding him and concentrating on getting absolutely wasted. He succeeds. Then he finds a nice, older girl for the second part of his plan: forgetting Louis.
He kisses her, and he thinks of kissing him.
He mouths at her neck, and he thinks how the girl and Louis are about the same height.
He grabs her bum, and he compares it to his.
He massages this tiny bum, thinking about Louis’ ginormous one. It takes him a minute but he realizes how unfair it is to the poor girl. He hugs her and tells her she’s lovely, that he’s sorry, that is not her, it's him, and he leaves her to get more wasted.
A couple hours later and his Lou is dancing on top of a table, there are girls watching and drooling, he’s drooling. He doesn’t want them to see him like this, shirtless and so hot. Harry’s drunk and his jealousy is taking over. He had that body underneath him, on top of him, he made his boy come. He wants it again. He wants to kiss him so bad. He wants people to stop staring at his boy. He needs to take him away.
"Loulou, come'ere!" He slurs/screams from the other edge of the table in which wild Lou dances.
"Hazza!" Louis screams back and rockstars his way to Harry’s arms. Like he did to his heart. Harry is a sappy mess.
He turns to piggyback Louis away from those girls.
“Go away!
He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine.
He found meeee, and now I got hiiiim.
He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine.”
He’s singing while he takes him away. Swinging him around so incredibly happy. Louis bites his shoulder just as happy. He thinks. Hopefully he isn’t gonna puke. When they are out the door, he starts tapping Lou’s bum in rhythm.
“Little sunshine in a vase.
Little wild hurricaaaane.
Big bum! He’s gotta big bum!”
For the big finale, he slaps that arse. Louis moans hot air right on Harry's ear.
Oh mother of puppies ! Harry holds on to him by the bum, concentrating on not getting hard. Too late. In vengeance —or self-indulgence— he squeezes hard on said bum and that gets him a squeal and some cackles. Bloody hell, he'd completely forgotten about the lads.
He locks eyes with Zayn and blushes. Zayn is smiling, that’s good, right?
"Take me home, Haz,"
That… that’s it. He wants to hear that, from that mouth, for the rest of his life.
Harry carries Louis until they fall down while crossing the uneven playground. They are wasted. Harry’s in love. He tries to pretend he isn’t, but he uses his drunk-card to touch Louis as much as he can. Zayn watches.
At home, they tiptoe to the bedroom but they’ve probably woken the whole house by now. When Harry turns around from closing the door, Louis has this look. Harry hasn’t seen this look before.
They stare at each other.
Harry takes a step forward.
Louis takes a step forward.
Harry purposely drops his gaze to Louis’ lips, he’s asking.
Louis licks them, he’s answered!
They lock eyes again and then he’s running to everything he wants, his Lou.
He kisses him, he kisses him, he kisses him. He has never kissed nobody before this. He’s made new in this kiss. Made whole. Everyone, everything before is nothing. This is everything, he is everything. His heart expands in a Louis-like shape. His hands roam around crazily to anywhere, everywhere they can reach in his tiny body. He tastes Louis, he breathes Louis, he feels Louis. He might die at this moment with Louis’ amazing tongue inside his mouth.
He pulls, his hands settle on Louis’ lower back and he pulls him to the bed. He falls to it, with half his bum out and Louis’ body on top of him and their hips are rolling. His body is singing odes of joy, he is savoring every feeling in every cell of his body. The way Lou kisses is wild, and obscene, and so lovely. He tastes like tequila and lemon. Harry’s mind is collapsing, he’s so overwhelmed, so happy, so horny.
Louis kisses love bites to his neck and Harry just… he… so good… "Lou... Lou... Lou... " he hears himself say from a few layers inside his mind. He feels so far away yet so present at the same time. What even is this? Harry remembers Lou’s award winning bum and reaches for it. He pushes it to his own groin and that’s it, he comes, he feels needles in his limbs, an explosion in his head, a satisfying release of the pressure in his crotch. He forces his eyes open to watch as Louis comes. Another bit of heaven to keep safe: Louis’ face as he comes.
"Fuck," Louis says.
Yes it was amazing! Harry smiles, unable to speak.
Louis stands up and goes to the bathroom, and that’s disappointing. He wanted to bask in the afterglow, kiss more, tell him he loves him. He loves him.
He might doze a bit, sated. He wakes when the creaky door creaks. Louis comes out of the bathroom and oh he is wet, nude under just a bit of towel. Harry wants to see. He wants to touch his skin. He settles on his elbows to watch Louis drop his towel, get a glimpse of that bum, but he doesn’t, Louis awkwardly gets a pair of Harry’s pants on underneath the towel. Disappointing.
Harry showers happily, he shakes his own little bum, and tries to remember Louis bum song, and then it clicks. This doesn’t change anything for Louis. They are again drunk and horny. Period. Harry really, really needs to stop hoping, it’s crushing.
✨
Harry is trying. He is. Really hard. But it freaking hurts. They don’t touch anymore, they have a foot of distance between their bodies at all times. They talk but don’t laugh as much. They can’t read each other like they’ve always had. It’s a nightmare. Everyone notices, everyone asks, mostly him, he’s the easier one to get an answer from. He’s messed everything up. It hurts.
He needs to fix it. He needs to fix it. He needs to fix it.
Zayn is giving him sad glances, pats on the shoulder. The offer of an ear, a comforting pair of arms. He cannot talk about this. He’s drowning, he’s falling. He’s alone.
Louis is replacing him with Niall, and if it was anybody else he’d be tearing their head off, but he can’t hate Niall, it’s not physically possible. He watches, he stares, he glares, he broods, and he hurts. That’s his place under Lou’s arm, his place on his side, his place as the recipient and cause of his smiles.
He hurts, he longs. At the very least he needs what they recently had. Their friendship, their connection. He misses Louis.
✨
Come Saturday and Harry is breaking in pieces. He’s searching for words in his mind to apologize, to backtrack, to promise he can behave. He’ll find a way, any way.
They act the part of best friends right up to when his family’s car drives away for the weekend. They go to the bedroom and Harry’s agonizing, preparing a speech, something. He puts the Xbox on to gain some time, but they are failing miserably at the distraction.
He can’t stand it anymore. He can’t. "Lou..."
"Yeah?"
What is he supposed to say? There are no words. He didn’t think this through, his mind is drawing a blank, going on empty. He thinks back to all the times they’ve fought before when they were younger and he remembers the nudges when words are not exact and too much. When a touch says what they can’t express.
Harry nudges him with his arm.
Louis takes a moment.
He nudges back.
Blood starts flowing again through Harry. He starts living again just barely. He’s hoping again. Damn it.
Harry grabs Louis' controller to stop the pretense, to talk, they need to talk. Harry needs to come clean so maybe they can jump start their friendship, forget what happened and be them again.
Louis fights it. He holds on to the controller stubbornly. For a second, Harry thinks he just doesn’t want to talk, but when he peaks at his face Louis is blushing. He’s fabricating the pretense of fighting. They can talk later. They can do this now. Harry continues to ‘struggle for the controller’. He’s just pulling Louis on top of himself and they are grinding, he doesn’t let go of the controller on his hand this time, but the other goes to Louis’ back. Louis' head rests just there above his chest, his quick breaths heating his neck.
He loses it.
He makes a move he’s seen a thousand times in porn, he learns then that it looks much easier than it actually is. It's clumsy but he manages to flip them over so he’s on top. His mind is not fully working with all his blood rushing to his dick. He burns, he wants, he needs. Please be this what Louis wants. Please let it be that Louis wants, loves me like this. Please . He’s begging to someone, anyone. Please.
Harry needs to know, he needs to know, now, what this is. He kisses Louis' cheek and they blush. He kisses him right on the corner of his mouth and a little ‘mmm’ escapes Louis' throat. He needs to. He kisses Louis on the lips.
Louis kisses back. He kisses back!
Louis is touching him, everywhere, like he can’t get enough. He’s making these tiny ‘mmg’ noises with his throat everytime he touches somewhere new. It’s intoxicating, invigorating. Harry’s just enjoying it, fighting not to come. He needs to work on his stamina urgently. There’s a couple of tiny hands squeezing his bum, slowly, gently spreading his bum cheeks and oh that puts actual sex-sex, bum sex, on his mind. He comes with a desperate, loud moan he’ll be fully embarrassed about once his soul returns to his body. He listens to Lou coming from up in the clouds.
Then, finally, he gets breadcrumbs for his hopes. There are arms hugging him tight. Holding him to Louis' perfect chest. He needed that more than the orgasm. Harry comes back to his body with the sole purpose of hugging back. His forehead finds Louis’s shoulder as relief and happiness flow through him. He lets himself feel it for a moment. Then, he needs to confess.
"Lou?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm gay." That’s the easier one.
"I might be bi."
Oh, okay, that's a good start. Now, the hard one: "I might love you."
"I love you, too, Haz."
"No, no Lou. I might have feelings for you. Uhm, I mean like... boyfriend-type feelings." He closes his eyes hard. He doesn’t breathe. This is it.
"Harry… I think I do, too"
"Yeah?" Hope is still alive in him.
"Yeah"
He lifts his head as fireworks explode in his every cell, his happiness is seeping through his pores. Louis is smiling this tiny smile, his eyes are all crinkles and there’s a special shine there, he thinks. Perhaps he’s imagining it. He’s so in love. He needs to kiss his Lou, so he does. He puts all his love, all his hope, all his past heartbreak in it, he tells Louis how hard he is loved, how he’s his everything. He loves him through a kiss.
This is amazing, yet he needs more, he needs certainty, he needs to not get broken again, he needs to be his, officially.
"So, umm, I mean, we, are we..."
"Yeah?"
"B-boyfriends?"
"You want to?"
"Yeah... If you, uhm-"
"Yeah"
"Yeah... Boyfriend."
"Boyfriend"
He stuttered his way through it like a little boy, but now he’s got a boyfriend, a Lou-boyfriend.
He kisses him more, because he can, because he wants to. He loves him. They kiss until a thought interrupts his devotion.
"We are gross, want to take a shower with me?"
Louis chokes and blushes. Harry tries not to laugh.
"Harry..."
"It's just a shower, Lou."
"Harry, you're 15! I might go to jail for this. Your mother and Gemma will kill me! My mother will kill me!"
That’s ridiculous. "Lou, you're not going to jail, you're a minor too, and I'll be 16 in 3 months. That’s legal. Besides we are not having sex-sex. I'm not... I'm not ready… Yet. Also, both our mothers and my sister love you, they'd be happy. I know it."
"First of all, Harold, don't ever mention our families and sex in the same sentence again. Ever ." Harry laughs and rolls his eyes. Then Louis is cupping Harry's jaw, his thumb caressing his cheekbone, and oh that feels so good, he almost doesn’t hear the rest of Louis’s sweet voice. "Second, I'm not ready for that either, Haz. This... We need to take it slow, I don't want to screw up, you're too important. Can't lose you."
"You won't."
"I love you," Louis says and his eyes open wide.
His reaction tells Harry that he didn’t mean it like before, like friends. Warm floods his chest. "I love you, boyfriend.” Kiss. “Come shower with me."
Louis goes. Win! Harry turns the shower on, grabs the hem of Louis’ shirt and lifts just barely. Louis complies. Harry takes it off and smiles. He places little kisses on his shoulders and chest like he’s been dreaming he could. He thumbs off the button of his jeans..
"Where the hell did you learn that?"
He chuckles. "Saw it on YouTube."
Harry kneels on the floor, he doesn’t need to, but he’s craving the intimacy that the position gives them. He takes off Louis’ jeans slowly, lovingly, a bit sensually, too.
He stands back and takes off his own t-shirt and jeans, looking at Louis. Then he smiles and takes off his boxers. Harry's always loved being naked, it’s nothing sexual, it’s freeing. Now, there absolutely is something sexual about it. And Louis is looking.
Louis takes off his own boxers and Harry is looking. He gently pulls him in the shower by the hand. Harry wants to hold on to naked Louis like a monkey to his tree, but he controls himself, aware of Lou's hesitancy.
Louis washes his curls and woah that feels amazing, he closes his eyes to enjoy it. He feels Louis having fun with his hair and he lets him. There’s intimacy, and trust, and love in everything they are doing, a softness to it. He revels in it. Then Louis is laughing at his hair, and that’s more like their usual selves. He gets both, the softness and the banter. He’s so happy. Harry adheres to tradition and complains with a 'heeeey'. Louis pulls his hair in reply and Harry accidentally moans.
He opens his eyes wide. He didn’t know he liked that. That’s quite embarrassing.
"We'll, uhm, save that for later," Louis says awkwardly and pats the hair back down. Okay then, that sounds promising!
Harry turns Louis around quickly so he doesn’t see his semi-chubby. Also so he can see Louis’ wet, naked, glorious bum. It doesn’t help with the downstairs situation, but he’s not really complaining.
Taking turns apparently, Louis washes Harry's chest, his arms, his abs. Probably sees the chubby and stops there.
Harry again turns Louis around and he washes his bum. He can’t not touch it. He tried. He failed. Louis’ bum is naked and wet and right there, it’s doing things to him. He washes it a lot —too much to be honest— and squeezes it, and taps it. He slaps it and Louis moans. His hands are supporting him on the tiles and his head is falling back.
"Mmm, that’s what I thought." Harry says.
"Haz..." Louis warns, beginning to turn around.
Harry holds him still by the hip, Louis needs to know it’s okay. "I like it," he whispers and slaps his bum again.
He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, he’s acting like a sex addict. He has no control. He is hard again, he loves that Louis likes being spanked, it suits Harry’s obsession with his bum perfectly. He grabs both his hips and comes closer, mouthing at Louis’ neck and back.
"Hazza…" Louis warns again.
"Lou"
Harry wants more, he wants Lou. He’s burning inside. He takes another step and just barely lets his dick touch Louis.
“Haz, we can’t...” Louis says with his head on the tiles, he doesn’t move.
"I'll stop if you really want me to, Lou, but I don't want to, and I know you don't either. No sex-sex, I promise, just this. Do you want to?"
"Haz, yeah, yeah, just this."
"Can I touch you, Lou?"
"Yeah"
They both gasp when Harry’s hand slides to his dick. It’s weird touching one that isn’t his own. Good weird. Amazing. He only hopes he can figure it out. He kisses Louis’ neck when he rests his head on Harry’s shoulder.
"Love you."
"Love you."
Harry starts moving then, rolling his hips and sliding his hand. It's harder than he thought, coordinating the different movements. This’ll take practice. He likes that, practice. Louis notices him struggling and helps him set a rhythm. It’s better then, much better, too much better. He loses it, damn stamina. He slaps Louis and comes right on the small of his back and the top of his bum. He watches it for a moment, white stripes on brown skin, enthralled.
He feels Louis’ hand wrapping around his own and making him move on his dick. Louis comes with a loud, desperate moan, hitting the wall lightly with the bottom of his fist. He turns around the second he finishes repainting the tiles and falls into Harry.
They kiss and hug. And Harry needs to do this thing so in his haze, he does . He lets his hand wander to the splash site on Louis' back, he puts his palm on it and spreads it around, all over Louis' bum. He could come again just for doing this.
"Dirty boy," Louis says.
Harry is embarrassed, he should have asked to do this first. It’s weird, he’s weird, It’s been a second of being together and he’s already messing up. Louis is gonna—
Louis smiles at him, fondly, he relaxes.
"You don’t like it?"
"I love it."
Harry loves Louis.
Harry is in love with Louis.
Harry is the luckiest boy in the whole world because Louis loves him back. He is in love right back. This is going to work out perfectly because for Harry, Louis is… he’s everything.
✨