Chapter Text
Tomlinson, 16, was sentenced to 10 years in a young offenders institute.
Harry closed the laptop, enough reading for tonight. The court case he had been researching was part of his next assignment for the newspaper. Squinting his eyes, Harry drained his cup of tea, switched off the lamp and carried his cup into the kitchen.
He stared at the boxes piled near the door. It felt like his stomach had been in spasm for the last four days. Four days since him and Daniel had called time on their relationship.
It wasn’t a shocker to either of them, they’d been together through the last year of uni, living in the same shared house and then the same bed. It was a natural progression to live together after they graduated, finding a flat to share, they kind of fell into an easy, comfortable partnership but the spark had gone. It was hard to admit it, hard to face the truth. They loved each other, they just weren’t in love anymore. A deep fondness but the passion had gone. Nothing had happened, no one had done anything wrong but they both deserved more. A late night chat turned into an argument that ended in tears and admissions. The relationship was over. Daniel had been offered a job in Cardiff, Harry didn’t want to go with him so that was that.
Harry was about to embark on the most important few weeks of his life, he needed a clean slate.
Daniel and his things would be gone by the time Harry returned.
***
Welcome to HMYOI Wetherby Secure college of learning.
Harry stared at the sign, his back prickled with sweat, chest fluttered.
He drew in a deep breath through his nose, holding and exhaling through his mouth. He was nervous, scared even. He glanced at the older, dreary building to his left, the secure unit, housing criminals up to the age of 25 and the light brick, new building to his right, the brand new learning centre.
Wetherby were leaders in their field. They had the best track record for rehabilitation and the lowest statistics for re-offending, they were getting it right. Turning these young lives around and making them upstanding citizens in the community so the government gave them a huge grant, to trial an even bigger and better learning centre for the youngest of all the offenders.
Here, they were going to concentrate on vocational studies, something to keep their young minds occupied. Motor mechanics, IT skills, builders, fitness and nutrition to name but a few. These young offenders were going to gain skills and qualifications whilst they served their time and hopefully, return to their communities with something to offer.
Further supporting the rehabilitation scheme, they also invited the fully trained ex inmates, with exemplary parole records, to apply for the positions. Hoping to employ the people who knew exactly what it was like to be in there. Who had been rehabilitated, gained their qualifications and could now give something back, help these kids gain an identity that wasn’t just criminal. Show them they were living proof that it worked.
Harry was to shadow one of these ex inmates and his mentor, visiting a similar venture to Wetherby. The Claremont in Glasgow was opening next week, they were to go and observe their schedule and learn from them, then return for a week of preparation for their launch and then their first week up and running properly.
Harry worked for the Yorkshire evening post, the largest local newspaper for Yorkshire, he had been personally requested by Wetherby to be the official writer for the opening of the centre after he had written a similar piece last year. This was his chance to shine, his chance to show his boss that his newly acquired promotion was justified.
Raking a hand through his hair, pushing a bright blue beanie over his curls he checked the name of the contact person once again, Paul Higgins. Ok, ok he can do this, he can he absolutely can spend three weeks with an ex con, he can.
Grabbing his bag and suit hanger and the file with all the relevant paperwork he exited his car. It's brisk for March, a cool breeze but dry and bright. He had a feeling he was going to be spending some time stood outside on chilly football fields and practice tracks, thank god his mum spoiled him last Christmas with a thick sheepskin coat. Three weeks.
Shit.
"State your business."
A stern looking man at the guard office had no time for pleasantries.
"Um Harry Styles here to see Paul Higgins and Louis Tomlinson."
Harry tried to sound as calm as possible and maybe only the people that really knew Harry Styles would've heard the tremor in his voice.
The man checked on a computer screen, picking up Harry's paperwork and scanning it. When he was finally happy he was legitimate, he passed him a visitors badge and ushered him into the building.
"Wait in there someone will be along soon."
He wasn't left alone too long to panic as a tall, broad, dark haired man entered the room a minute later.
"Harry? I'm Paul, pleased to meet you."
He had a soft lilting Irish accent, firm friendly handshake and dependable presence.
"Glad you could make it, think this is going to be one helluva ride.”
He took him through doors, scanning a pass and keying in a code until they were in a classroom of sorts.
“Louis will be here soon, he had somewhere to go first though.” He gestures for Harry to sit.
“Any questions we could be getting out of the way?”
They chatted the finer details of their trip although Harry had been kept in the loop with regular emails from Paul.
“Did you have any reservations about employing ex convicts to work at the centre?”
Paul brought his hands up in front of his face, lacing his fingers together, he exhaled laying his chin on the clasped hands.
“That would have been so hypocritical of us, rehabilitating them, educating and training them and then deeming them not fit to employ.” Paul shook his head with a smile “Whoever you employ to interact with young people with complex needs like this, requires much thought and discussion. However, what better way to level with them than to have them learn from people who have not only been there and done that, but have come out the other side, employable, educated, rehabilitated and walking, talking proof that it works, if you want it to.”
Harry nodded, documenting all of Paul's words on his voice recorder.
“I visited the Strive Academy after reading your pieces on it, gave us lots of food for thought and also was the reason why we invited you to be the official writer for the opening."
Harry smiled and nodded. He had been the one person allowed in to document the opening of Strive, an academy in Hull for kids who couldn’t quite cope with mainstream school. Who maybe had complex learning and emotional needs.
“Thanks for choosing me to join you, glad you liked my pieces on Strive, it’s an amazing place... ”
The door to Harry's left opened and in walked a man, slight of frame but managing to fill the room with his presence. Harry stood up and turned towards him.
“Boss.”
The man nodded at Paul, his eyes whipping over to Harry. Harry’s lungs somehow lost every ounce of breath, like a suckerpunch to the gut, winded. The hairs on Harry's neck pricked with what he thought was fear.
He held the back of the chair to steady himself, trying not to stagger, eventually remembering to breathe.
Paul cleared his throat.
“Tommo, this is Harry, the journo who is joining us. Harry, this is Louis Tomlinson.”
Louis stood still, eyes raking up and down Harry. He wore a purple sweater, black sweats, a bright blue beanie similar to Harry’s and battered old Vans on his feet.
Unreadable sharp blue eyes, neutral face.
Harry realised he was staring, jolting into action.
“Pleased to meet you.” Harry held his hand out and walked towards Louis.
Louis’ mouth twitched slightly, guarded.
“Styles.” Louis punched Harry’s surname out, meeting him halfway he grasped his hand and shook it.
Harry’s stomach lurched, his nerves shot to pieces. His huge hand engulfed Louis’ petite hand, delicate wrist. He’d seen a photo of Louis from after the trial. A moody, fresh faced kid, he was now a man. Harry for some reason was expecting the kid in the photo.
“Please, call me Harry.” Harry could hear the tremor in his own voice.
“Ok sorry, you will have to excuse me, I have had 7 years of calling people by their surname, it almost seems too... Forward.” He quirked his lip momentarily “But I will try.” A slightly softer edge entered Louis’ voice.
“Should I call you Louis or Tommo or?” Harry subconsciously touching the palm of his right hand with his left, feeling if it was really as hot as he imagined.
“Louis, I suppose.” Louis’ eyes piercing into Harry’s.
Harry couldn’t look away, mesmerised by this person, his whole body off kilter, his body thrumming with the fear and nerves of coming here in the first place and now he’s struggling to equate what exactly is happening to him right now, stood here in this tiny room. Harry watched his features thaw a little.
“I need to get used to hearing it again too. If I don’t respond to it just give me a dig or holler Tommo at me, that’ll work.”
Harry felt the tautness of his stomach release a little, he ducked his head smiling, his throat allowing him to suck in some much needed air.
“Exciting few weeks ahead for you.”
Louis’s jaw clenched slightly. “Scary time for me. A lot of things to prove, a lot of people to sway.”
Harry nodded. “Suppose so, quite a challenge.”
Harry saw Louis suck in a shaky breath. “Yep.” He agreed, breaking this buzz that seemed to be radiating from them both and turning away.
The three of them sat mapping out their plans. “Three and a half to four hours depending on the traffic.” Paul studied the route. They had a car to drive up to Scotland in and the learning centre they were visiting had accommodation for them.
“Grab yourselves a coffee, I’ll go get the paperwork sorted, be back in ten.”
Paul squeezed Louis’ shoulder, sidestepped him and left.
“Drink then?” Louis queried, holding a cup up to Harry.
“Umm best not, had two already and I’ll wanna wee if I have another.” Harry clenched his teeth at his own ridiculous mouth running away with itself.
Louis crinkled his nose at Harry.
“You got a weak bladder or summat?” Turning and grinning, his eyes almost closed.
Harry squirmed, “N-no just, you know, Glasgow’s a long drive.”
Louis shrugged, turning away. “You from Leeds then?” He kept his back to Harry as he dropped a teabag into a cup and added boiling water.
“No, a small place in Cheshire, Holmes Chapel.”
“Never heard of it.” Louis stirred his brew.
“Not many people have, it’s tiny... What about you?”
“Doncaster. No jokes." Louis turned and arched his eyebrow, pointing the spoon in Harry’s direction. "I’ve heard ‘em all.” The creases on his forehead getting deeper as he frowned, turning back to finish mashing his tea he suddenly stopped dead, turning again and giving an apologetic face, thinking he'd overstepped the mark.
"Sorry, just having a laugh, don't mean owt." Louis chewed his lip, hand laid flat on his tummy.
"N-no it's fine, banter, I umm yeah no worries Louis."
Louis stared and blinked slowly. "I need to loosen up, It umm it's just been either the lads or the gaffers, I'm rusty I suppose with new people.”
Paul came back in at that point.
"Ok, we're all good to go when you're ready."
The drive was quite slow at first, the traffic heavy. Louis was restless, sitting behind Paul fidgeting. Harry could see his legs moving constantly, his knee bobbing up and down, chewing on his thumb nail. "You ok Tommo?" Paul kept checking in his mirror until eventually Louis drifted off to sleep. Paul pinched his lips together in a tight smile when he glanced and saw him, mouth fallen open, head lolled back.
Harry answered a few emails and found his eyes drifting closed too.
"Could do with a stop." Paul rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"I can take over driving if you like?" Harry offered, stretching and sitting up straighter.
Louis made a startled noise, Harry turned to look at him, Louis face confused for a split second until he realised where he was.
"Ok?" Paul glanced back a few times, rising up in his seat to see him through the rear view mirror.
"Y-yeah." Louis mumbled messing with his beanie, his face giving nothing away.
They pulled into the next services, all walking stiffly to the toilets after being sat still for so long, then standing at the urinals taking a piss together.
Harry trying not to look at his neighbour's dick but it's one of those things whereby the more you try not to look, that little devil on your shoulder can't help but sneak a peek.
Decent, uncut.
Those were the two words flitting through Harry's brain. He mentally scolded himself, shook, stored, zipped and walked to wash his hands, all the time wondering how much he was a freak for even looking at Louis pissing but also kind of wondering if he wasn't the only one to glance at the urinals.
"Lunch?"
Paul's words cutting into Harry's thoughts, thank god.
"Whatever, yeah, bit peckish." Louis tilted his head, drying his hands.
There was an expensive motorway cafe or a Subway, they all voted for Subway.
Harry lead the way, his long legs striding over the concourse, his fluid movements, letting his hips lead the way, the guy behind the counter watching him approach, pulling himself up straight, trying to look taller than he was, letting his eyes rake over Harry before plastering on a grin to greet him.
“Good afternoon, welcome to Subway..” He reeled off his well rehearsed spiel, offering Harry different bakes of bread until he finally settled on the one he wanted, the guy discreetly flirting, his tongue darting out licking his lips, slow sweeps of his eyelashes.
"Six inch or foot long sir?" The guy tilted his head, the innuendo lost on no one.
Louis cleared his throat noisily by the side of Harry.
Harry blushed, "Uhhmmmm." Snuffing out a slight embarrassed laugh. "Six inch will be fine, umm I'll have.." He continued to build the first part of his sandwich, aware of Louis shifting his weight from foot to foot with a long drawn out exhale through his nose. choosing meat and cheese, the guy sliding the his sandwich into the oven.
Harry chanced a glance sideways, saw the tight clench of Louis' jaw. Shit, he didn't want to make Louis feel uncomfortable, the guy had been harmlessly flirting but the last thing he wanted was tension.
Harry moved down to wait for his salad.
The guy laid the charm on Louis too, raking his eyes over him appreciatively. Louis was courteous but blunt, no banter, no smile.
Harry filled the rest of his sandwich and moved down to pay.
"This comes out of our budget." Paul appeared, throwing a selection of cookies and brownies onto their trays, sliding the credit card into the machine and paying for their food and drinks.
"Oh? Ok cheers." Harry smiled.
They found somewhere to sit, piling their food and drink onto a tiny bistro style table and pulling their chairs in, knees bumping as they did so. Harry feeling Louis tug his knees away, leaning forward to bite into his sandwich.
"How much further?" Louis quizzed Paul.
"Not far, an hour probably, might let Harry drive now, do you want front seat?" Paul's eyes watching Louis.
"Nope. I like it in the back." Louis' voice strained.
"No worries." Paul nodded, chewing the last of his sub and draining his coffee.
Harry navigated the car out of the services and once they'd joined the traffic he settled in and began chatting.
"So what's expected of you this week?"
"Well." Paul raked a hand through his hair. "We will be demonstrating Louis' skills as a leader in fitness and nutrition." He turned to look at Louis, smiling, raising his eyebrows at him. "Holding fitness classes and workouts and then demonstrating our nutrition course at one of the open day seminars." He explained.
“Then we watch the classes they are offering, swap ideas and thoughts. Its their official opening this week so they have gala dinners most nights which is why Louis had to go hire a suit this morning." Paul's voice edging towards teasing, glancing back at Louis.
"When was I ever going to have a suit boss?" Louis voice getting higher pitched, shaking his head at Paul. "I had no idea I'd need anything like that, it's not the kind of clothing you need in a probation hostel." Louis rolled his eyes.
Harry huffed out a laugh, glancing at him in the rear view mirror. "Don't suppose it is, no."
"Did you know to bring a posh suit Harry?" Louis questioned him, his eyes flicking to Paul, a dry tone to his voice.
"I uhmm, yeah, I mean I got emails from Claremont telling me it was their official opening and to bring suitable clothing." Harry covered his mouth and coughed nervously. "If it helps I had to go get one too." Meeting Louis' eyes again in the mirror and grinning. “All I had was a hand me down suit for my graduation, I wasn’t bringing that.” Harry pulled a face remembering the scratchy material making his neck sweat and itch.
"Oh nice, nice, glad some of us were kept in the loop." Louis drawled, heavy on the sarcasm now.
Harry watched Louis for a second, biting his lip, holding back a laugh by the looks of it.
"Sorry." Harry offered.
"Nah I'm messing." Louis tapped the back of Harry’s seat, letting the laugh go between his words, his voice breathy. "Can we have the radio on?" Louis swiftly changed the subject, slipping lower in his seat, closing his eyes, Harry clicking the button, Louis humming to the songs.
They arrived in Glasgow mid afternoon. It looked older than Wetherby but similarly had a new extension block for the learning centre. They locked the car and walked to the gatehouse with their bags.
Paul sorted out all the paperwork and once they were signed in they were led to the new block.
"Gentlemen, your contact this afternoon is Mark Jarvis,. He's the principle of Claremont and is looking forward to having you stay this week."
They entered the newer block and into a large office.
"Mr Jarvis, this is Mr Higgins." Paul stepped forward shaking his hand warmly.
"This is Louis Tomlinson, our fitness and nutrition mentor and Harry Styles, writer at the Yorkshire evening post, with us for the duration." Paul explained.
Pleasantries over they had a quick look around the learning facility and then Mark took them back to his office.
"I'm calling for our head of security, Patrick O’Brien, Paddy, he will be happy to show you to the living quarters and answer any questions you might have.” Mark lifted the desk phone and punched a button.
“Paddy, the party from Wetherby are here are you free to join us?”
They chatted until Paddy arrived. Dressed all in black he shook their hands and made small talk with them.
“The accommodation block is just the other side of the car park, it’s not inside the secure boundaries and you are free to come and go as you please.” Paddy explained.
“We are at capacity this week with the launch happening and unfortunately only have two rooms to offer you. We have so many different charities and guests staying that we are completely oversubscribed and have had to limit it to two rooms per party. There is a bed and breakfast down the road that would be able to offer one of you a room or if two of you are willing to share..?”
“I’m a terrible snorer and don’t really want to inflict that on anyone.” Paul admitted
“But i’ll get a room at the B&B and let the boys have the accommodation here.” He offered.
“I’m used to sharing.” Louis interjected.
“I wouldn’t mind you snoring boss.”
“I umm I don’t mind sharing either.” Harry piped up.
“It would be better if you two shared to be honest.” Paul brought his hand up to his face.
“Ever since I broke my nose again I have had terrible problems, the wife is glad I’m away this week.” He smirked, rolling his eyes. “So you two share, ok?”
Harry saw Louis’ shoulders slump a little and felt a nervous pang in his stomach.
“Or would you rather I went to the B&B, umm you two stay here..”
“No, it’s fine.” Louis cleared his throat, turning his head to Harry, messing with the cuff of his jumper.
“We’ll share, if that’s ok with you?” Louis nodded towards Harry.
“That’s fine, really.” Harry pursed his lips in a quick smile, nodding back at him.
“Ok gentlemen, follow me.” Mark held the door open and Paddy took the lead.
They made their way to the accommodation block.
“We had a grant from the home office to renovate the old parents centre.” He explained. “The families of the juvenile inmates can stay the night if they've traveled far. It’s basic but comfortable.”
Paddy punched a number into a keypad and pulled the door open.
There were thirty rooms on three floors. Each had twin beds and a small shower room, basic but functional.
“Settle in, unpack, rest. There will be light refreshments in the communal sitting room at five but dinner tonight is at the conference hall here at Claremont, pre dinner drinks at seven thirty.” Paddy explained.
“Here is all the information you need to know and a little map to navigate around.” He handed them all envelopes.
“Keys to your rooms and the code for the outside door.” He explained as he handed them over.
“Settle in, tea at five remember.”
They were in rooms twenty seven and twenty eight on the top floor. They hauled their luggage up the stairs, Paul panting at the top, Louis smirking at him and shaking his head, not even slightly out of breath.
“Can we have twennyeight boss, It was my squad number at school, used to be my lucky number..” Louis’ voice tailed off, drawing his eyebrows together and watching Paul closely.
“Yeah, don’t care where I am, here.” Paul held out the envelope with the keys to twenty eight inside.
“Cheers.” Louis fist bumped him.
Paul checked his watch. “Off for a kip, see you for tea at five.” He smiled, let himself into his room and left them.
“Ok then, lets go unpack.” Harry pulled his beanie from his hair, raking his fingers through his flattened locks, shaking out the curls. He turned and caught Louis watching him, Louis twitched his lips, looking annoyed with himself, dropping the envelope with the keycards in, sighing loudly as he bent to pick them up.
“Alright?” Harry swooped to pick them up too.
“Yeah, bit tired.” Louis mirrored Harry, pulling his beanie off, sliding a headband from his pocket and putting it over his swept back hair.
“Mmm me too, might have a quick nap.” Harry murmured as Louis slid the keycard into the door and pushed it open.
It was small but clean, bright and practical. Twin beds separated by a bedside shelf. The signature colours were beige and blue. One bed was nearer the window, one nearer the bathroom.
"Could I take this bed?" Louis dropped his large holdall on the bed nearest the window, raking his teeth over his lower lip.
"Sure." Harry nodded, hauling his suitcase onto the other bed, his hair falling into his face he took off his coat and pulled the band from his wrist and secured his hair into a bun.
"Did it take you long to grow that?" Louis pointed up to Harry’s hair, watching him through the whole process, hand paused on the zip of his bag.
Harry laughed. "Longer than it should've." He shook his head rolling his eyes.
"I started growing it over two years ago and then stupidly chickened out and had it cut in the summer, regretted it straight away and vowed I'd let it grow again so.." He closed one eye counting. "About nineteen months or so." He tilted his head side to side.
"And was it short before or..?" Louis' eyes flicking up to the neat bun.
"Quite short at the back, bit longer on top, used to have like a messy quiff kinda thing." Harry pulled his phone out, scrolling quickly through his camera roll, stopping on a photo of him from two years ago.
"Like that." He handed Louis his phone. Louis stared at the screen.
"Curly innit?" He muttered.
"Yeah." Harry watched Louis' face, scanning his photo. "That was at my friends civil partnership, August twenty thirteen."
Louis nodded, handing Harry the phone back.
“Had it long when I was about seventeen too, had this floppy fringe that annoyed the hell out of my mum.” Harry grinned at the memory.
"Been growing mine a bit, since umm since my parole really, just to do summat different with it." Louis twirled his fingers near his ear.
Harry tilted his head at Louis, his eyes scanning his hair, pushed back flat in the headband, a soft caramel brown colour with flecks of gold in the wispy tips in his neck.
"Let's see how long it is without the headband."
Harry reached his hand forward, more in a gesture but Louis thought he was going to removed his headband and jerked his head away.
"S-sorry, wasn't..I wouldn't have taken it.." Harry's voice tailed off, fire stinging his cheeks as the embarrassment seeped into his bones.
Louis held his hand up. "No I'm sorry, knee jerk reaction, soz." He reached up and pulled the headband off, raking his hands through his hair, seemingly flustered at the lack of style.
"S'quite long, bet you can do a few new things with it, If it was short before. A quiff would look good." Harry rushed his words out. "Soft fringe or summat.." His voice drying up.
Louis shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"I wasn't great with hairstyles, not summat you need to worry about when you're locked up.” He glanced at Harry apologetic look on his face for his reaction. “Sixteen year old me thought gel was the messiah so my hair was a right bleeding mess." Louis snorted a giggle, breaking the tension a little. "But since I went into Ripon house, I've kind of had time and privacy and.." He laughed, throwing his head back a little. "And a bloody decent hairdryer to mess about with and I can actually pull off a half decent quiff."
Harry quirked his eyebrows at Louis, an impressed look on his face.
"Well, there’ll be plenty of events this week for you to show off those skills of yours." Harry’s lips twitched in a smile.
“Maybe.” Louis replied vaguely, rooting through his bag now, piling hoodies and trackie bottoms at the end of his bed.
“Louis.” Harry swallowed, looking down at the carpet and back up to Louis. “I know you are probably wary of me, a journalist and all but I’m not here to do a hatchet job on you, quite the opposite in fact.” Harry watched Louis taking in the words, his eyes piercing, the heaviness of the conversation weighing Harry down.
“I’m here to portray you in a positive light, to prove that the money the government ploughs into these ventures, is worth every penny.” Harry explained slowly, choosing his words carefully.
“I read the articles about you after the accident.” Harry pressed on, Louis’ face flinching as Harry continued.
“The language they used to sensationalise your story was uncalled for.” Harry pursed his lips. “And I promise you, there will be none of that from me.” He kept Louis’ gaze, sincerity pouring from Harry’s eyes. “I promise you, every word I write you can read, approve and if there is anything you don’t like, we take it out, simple as that.” Harry turned his hands over.
“You have my word, I know you don’t know me yet, but please, if you can, trust me, don’t be wary of me, we have a lot of hours to spend together." Harry's words sincere, not breaking eye contact. "I’m not here to destroy your hard fought for future, I want to sing your praises and show how well these schemes work.” Harry smiled at Louis, seeing a little softness around Louis’ eyes. "A positive piece is what I am aiming for and you will be the shining light, proving the doubters wrong."
“Friends?” Harry held his hand out to Louis. Louis hesitated a few seconds then reached out and clutched his hand.
“Friends.” He echoed.
They stood, hands fused together, surveying each other until Louis snapped out of his trance.
“We best finish unpacking.” Louis turned away.
“You want me to hang your suit in the bathroom.” Harry pointed to the slightly crumpled jacket Louis had just laid on the bed.
“Bathroom?” Louis scrunched his nose up. “Isn’t that what wardrobes were invented for?” A dry teasing edge to his reply.
Harry snickered. “The steam from the shower will iron out the wrinkles a little bit.” He explained.
Hooking the coat hanger of his own suit over his long middle finger and holding it out for Louis to hook his on too.
“Ohhhhhh.” Louis tutted and grinned. “Smart arse aren’t you?”
Harry widened his eyes at the sassy reply, smiling wide, his dimples popping, his tongue darting out to moisten his deep red lips. “Says you.”
Louis smiled, his eyes crinkling closed almost.
“Nah my mum takes the credit for this, she’s like a practical genius, she has a solution for everything.” Harry spoke fondly, his eyes shining thinking of his mum.
“Oh ah see.” Louis hooked his suit onto Harry’s finger and watched him navigate around the bed and into the bathroom handing them on a towel rail.
They stored their clothes away, Harry slipping off his boots and laying flat out on his bed, phone in his hand replying to his sister and reading but not replying to a message from Daniel.
Louis lined up his football boots, a pair of high top black Chuck Taylors and a pair of shiny brogues that looked brand new. He stored his empty bag under his bed and did the same as Harry, laid down on his bed, arms behind his head, looking straight up at the ceiling.
“So, can I interview you sometime?” Harry craned his neck to watch Louis’ reaction.
Louis turned his head to look over at the other bed. “S’pose so, what kind of interview, like what I’m doing and stuff?” Louis rolled onto his side to look over at Harry.
Harry shifted too, playing with the edge of the pillowcase nervously.
“Well that yeah, but I want your whole story, in your own words.” Harry watched him closely, seeing his face crease into a frown, blinking rapidly, averting his eyes and looking up at a spot above Harry’s head.
“Dunno, erm, you think it’s necessary?” Louis brought his eyes back to Harry, a sharper, more determined look in them.
“We’ll talk about it later, have a nap now, it can wait.” Harry shifted and closed his eyes, not wanting to lose the progress he had gained by pushing Louis too hard. Trying to clear his mind to nap but the butterflies in his belly were not allowing that.
He heard Louis exhale slowly, shuffle about a little and go quiet.
Harry felt like he’d made progress with Louis and even had some banter going with him, that was enough for today, let them become friends first before he pushed him for an interview.
The lilting song of his alarm broke into his thoughts. Not quite asleep but not fully awake Harry had drifted a little but it was five minutes until tea downstairs and they needed to get a sprint on.
“Louis.” Harry reached across and tapped his arm, taking a second to look at him curled up on his side, turned away from Harry, his legs bent up. "Time for tea." Harry tapped his phone, rolling away and getting off the bed by the bathroom.
He pee’d, washed up quickly, spritzing his face with a little water and scrunching a little product into his frizzy curls, coming out to find Louis fastening his Vans.
“I wasn't asleep." Louis’ combed his hair with his fingers. "I was in one of those awake but so comfy and restful states."
Harry watched him for a few second, Louis’ lashes throwing shadows onto his cheeks, his whiskers just long enough to call scruff. Harry was quite mesmerised. He was hard but soft, tough but gentle. Harry was fascinated.
A knock on the door broke Harry’s trance. They both looked at each other with wide eyes. Harry got to the door first to find Paul there, Louis hurrying behind Harry.
“Ey up boss, just ready.” Louis brought his hand to Harry’s back and guided him out of the door.
Paul had sleepy eyes, obvious he had just woken up.
“You look sleepy.” Louis teased.
“Have you looked at yourself? Tatty head." Paul narrowed one eye, reaching out to mess his hair up even more.
“I’ll be all poshed up tonight, never fear.” Louis skipped ahead of them down the stairs like a little sprite, leaping from the third step up, into the air, landing gracefully on two feet.
Paul looked at Harry and shook his head, a fondness in his eyes though.
They found the lounge area, a row of tables set up with jugs of coffee and teapots full of tea. Plates of tiny cupcakes and a selection of biscuits lined the white tablecloths.
Harry’s phone rang just as they were entering, he looked at the screen and saw his bosses name.
“Need to take this, it’s work.” He pointed over his shoulder and backed out of the room, sliding his thumb to take the call.
He chatted to his boss for a few minutes, discussing the content for an article and talking about this assignment.
“Get as much as you can on Tomlinson, you know bad lad made good.”
Harry frowned. “I’m taking it slowly with him, It’s going to be a positive piece about him, he deserves a fresh start not raking over the bad lad stuff again.” Harry felt the annoyance prickling at his neck.
“Anyway gotta go, there’s an introduction thing happening right now.” Harry clicked out and walked back towards the lounge. Paul had been cornered by a stern looking lady with her hair in a chignon.
“Harry.” Louis grabbed his arm animatedly, guiding him away from Paul and the lady. It was the first time he had used Harry’s name, it had a certain softness in his accent. “Batty.” He surreptitiously nodded towards the lady.
“Oh.” Harry pulled a face, patting Louis’ arm for a lucky escape.
“When you go for your tea will you get me summat?” Louis’ eyes pleaded, sparks of excitement radiating from him.
“Huh?” Harry tilted his head. “What you on about?”
“There’s party rings.” Louis thumbed towards the table, his delicate white china teacup balanced on his empty sideplate.
“And?” Harry completely lost at Louis’ request.
Louis leant in closer, his cheek almost next to Harry’s so his mouth was nearer his ear, reaching up on his tiptoes. “Well I’ve been up to the table and taken my biscuits, it would look bad if I went up again.” He explained.
“But you haven’t been up, so you can get as much as you want, please Harry, I haven’t seen party rings for years.” Louis pulled away, looking up at Harry expectantly.
“Just one more."
Harry walked towards the table, glancing back over his shoulder and narrowing his eyes at Louis, pouting his lips slightly suggesting Louis was throwing him to the lions.
Louis nodded his head encouragingly in the direction of the table, spurring him on.
Harry poured himself a cup of tea, adding a splash of milk and then moving down the table to the plates of biscuits. Another glance over his shoulder at Louis who was watching him closely. He picked up two plain biscuits, his hand hovered over the others, shifting so Louis couldn’t see what he was doing and added two sugary sweet party rings to his plate, one bright pink, one lemon. He grinned to himself before he straightened his face and turned, walking back towards Louis.
“Legend.” Louis grinned, spotting the contents of Harry’s plate.
“One’s for me.” Harry warned him as he flicked the ring onto Louis’ plate.
“You’re a big kid like me.” Louis smiled, picking up the bright pink biscuit and taking a bite, Harry watched him.
“Mmmmm.” Louis groaned, slurping the last dregs of his tea.
“You really like ‘em huh?” Harry watched him, not touching his plate.
“They were a huge hit in our house, four sisters and all that.” Louis popped the last of his biscuit in his mouth.
“Bit sweet for me.” Harry admitted, dropping the lemon one onto Louis’ plate.
“Honest?” Louis didn’t wait for a reply, picking up that one and biting into the crisp icing.
“Honest.” Harry rolled his eyes at him.
“Can I take first shower?” Louis bounded up the stairs, the sugar giving him even more of a bounce.
“Yep, I'll work a little, sort my notes out for today.”
Harry settled on the bed, legs crossed, laptop settled on his knees, his things scattered around him.
Louis opened and closed drawers, grabbing things, humming a tune as he went along.
Harry was distracted, his eyes flicking up from his screen to watch Louis move about the small room. His movements were so fluid, graceful even. Light on his feet, delicate but strong. Such an enigma. Harry didn’t realise he was staring, pencil sticking out of his mouth.
“S’up?” Louis startled him out of his daydream. His hands pulling at his jumper to see if he had spilled something, looking back puzzled at Harry.
“No-nowt, just erm, I made notes the old fashioned way in the car today, just..Just trying to recall some other stuff. Was miles away.” Harry stumbled over his words, his cheeks flaming at being caught staring.
Louis raised his chin, bottom lip pouting.
“Ok, I’ll leave you to it.” Louis shifted past Harry’s bed and into the bathroom.
Harry waited for the door to click shut before banging his head three times on the wall behind him.
“Dickhead.” He murmured to himself. His eyes drifting to the bathroom door as the shower switched on behind it.
Harry opened a new document and began typing up his notes, making sense of his shorthand, squinting at the page. It didn’t take long, describing their arrival and meeting Mark.
Lost in his words he was engrossed in his laptop, his fingers flying over the keys. The sound of the water pounding down, quite a soothing sound, until he heard it. A distinctive, muted sound, not loud, not long, just a muffled grunt.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t mean to hear Louis but the bed was so close to the bathroom and he wasn’t eavesdropping he really wasn’t. He pushed the heel of his hand into his perky cock. Really this was not the time. He fumbled for his earphones, clicking them into his phone and trying to lose himself in his music, but all he could hear was that noise. The low push of air from his lungs but the whine at the end. The noise lasted a second, how could Harry have memorised each note and tone?
He kept pulling one ear bud out to listen for the shower stopping, to have some warning when Louis was returning and to hopefully be chill and not give himself away.
The next time he pulled his bud out, it was all quiet. Harry’s stomach flipped, guilt flooding his body.
He turned up the music and went back to pretending to work, keeping his eyes on the screen, humming along to the song as he felt the door open and a plume of fragrant steam hitting his senses.
“Oh you done?” Harry closed the lid, busying himself so he didn’t make eye contact.
“Yeah, love a good powerful shower, ours at the hostel is shite, I can spit harder.” Louis snorted. Harry finally looking up at him. His hair fluffy, towel dried, his face pink and dewy. He was stood in a faded old Doncaster Rovers t shirt and a pair of thin grey sweats. Harry felt his insides twist hard, an actual pain searing through his gut.
“I’ll go try it out too then.”
Harry realised at that moment, that he had no pyjamas or anything. He didn’t realise he’d have to share and he always slept naked. Shit, the thought rumbled about in his body. He grabbed his wash bag and clean undies and darted into the bathroom.
His cock was still perky, still remembering that noise. Palming himself in the safety behind closed doors, he took a few deep breaths.
Pulling his clothes off, stood just in his pants, he looked into the mostly steamed up mirror. His face tinged with high spots of colour, his cock now very interested, he needed to do exactly what Louis had just done, just get it out of the way. He pulled out the Tom Ford gift set his mum had bought him for his birthday but that he had never used.
Placing the shower gel on the rack and leaving the aftershave and deodorant stick on the side.
He put his usual coconutty shampoo and conditioner with his gel and pulled the shower on.
Stepping in he wet his body and squirted some of the Noir into his hand, smoothing the fragrant cream over his skin, rolling his nipples, smoothing his palms over their tight buds, letting a slow breath out of his nose.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the cold of the tile and let his hand wrap around himself, he brought his left hand up, biting gently on the lower flesh of his index finger.
He didn’t mess about, visions of Louis swimming inside his head, in his purple jumper this morning, his hair pulled back into his beanie, to him bounding up the stairs, his bum pulling his sweats tight across his arse, round and firm, the dip of his waist so pronounced. The noise Harry had heard, playing on a loop as his hand pulled and twisted, his cock stinging slightly at the soap. Then now, how he looked leaving the bathroom, old t shirt just a shade too small for him, a thin sliver of flesh showing from the top of his sweats, his face slack from orgasm, his movements just that bit more languid. Harry wondered if Louis went slow and firm, did he watch himself, watch his cock swell and twitch and pump through his hand? Watch until he had to surrender to the sensations.
Harry bit harder, the only noise was in his own head, Louis’ noise driving him insane. Thing was, Harry wanted that. He hated himself but he found Louis insanely attractive, he wanted to make that noise punch out of Louis, wanted to see his face, watch his body. Harry drew a deep breath in, the air stuttering out of him as he came in the shower, feeling the rush flood his body, breathing heavily, the evidence being washed down the drain. He panted against the tiles for a few moments, his finger throbbing, teeth marks clearly visible. He felt good, it was a stellar wank, the endorphins flooding his bloodstream.
“You’re gross.” He whispered to himself as his body felt like a bag of jelly, vibrating under the powerful jets of water. He washed quickly, hissing at the sensitive end of his cock as his hand lathered the soap over it, washing away every last trace.
“Sorry I didn’t know I’d be sharing, I don’t do pyjamas..” Harry wandered out of the bathroom in fresh black boxers and a plain white t shirt.
“I’ll slop about in these and sleep in my pants, is that ok?”
Louis looked up from his phone.
“S’fine.” He shrugged, going back to his texting or whatever he was doing.
He read over what he had put, pressed a button and threw his blackberry style phone on the bed and stood up, stretching, Harry watched his every move as he raked a comb through his hair.
Louis rooted through his bag, squirting some product into his hand and scrunching it into his softly drying hair.
“Think I’ll go for the shaggy look tonight.” Louis raised his eyebrows at Harry, plugging in his dryer and sitting on the end of his bed, head upside down, blasting his hair.
Harry wandered back into the bathroom, brushing and flossing his teeth, he had a shave, plucked a few long unruly hairs from his eyebrows and added some product to his ringlets, separating them with his fingers and pushing the front up and over in a quiff of sorts.
Louis was stood at the mirror, hair dry but he was pulling at strands, trying to shape it a little.
“Can I?” Harry approached him, the remnants of his product still on his fingers.
Louis nodded, clearing his throat and standing legs apart with his hands clasped behind his back. Harry swallowed, making eye contact, making sure Louis was ok with him being so invasive. Louis gave the merest nod. Harry’s hands shook slightly as he reached up and rolled the front parts of Louis’ hair through his fingers, swooping it to Louis’ right, giving him a sweeping fringe, twisting some of the ends, making them stand out, giving it a choppy effect. It felt so soft, the smell of lime from his shampoo flooding Harry’s senses.
“There.” Harry stood back admiring his handiwork.
“Hairspray do you think?” Louis reached into his bag, pulling out a small tin.
“Just a little.” Harry nodded. “Won’t need much, it’s fine as it is.”
Louis sprayed and coughed a little at the fumes.
“It’s so soft and floppy without it.”
Harry’s eyes snapped to Louis’ just as Louis realised what he had said.
A split second of total silence and then they both burst out laughing.
“I’m such an idiot.” Louis spluttered between laughter, Harry bent over, tears in his eyes.
“Good job we get on ok I suppose.” Harry chuckled, his hand on his belly.
“Suppose so, this week would have been a bit shit otherwise.” Louis’ eyes darted around their cosy room.
“I snore a bit, I have adenoid problems.” Harry gestured to his throat. “So you might hate me by the end of the week.” He tilted his head apologetically.
“I talk a bit, sometimes I have bad dreams and ermmmm I might fart a bit.” Louis grimaced. “Sorry in advance, if one slips out through the night.”
Harry bit his lip, grinning at the honesty of this kid.
“Come on.” Harry gestured towards the wardrobe.
“We best get dressed before Paul kills us.”
Louis got his boxers and laid his shirt out on the bed.
“Can you get the suits from the bathroom?” Louis asked.
Harry went around his bed and into the bathroom unhooking the coathangers and walking back in just in time to see Louis, back towards Harry, pulling his black and red boxers up, the swell of his bum on show for a brief second, Harry was dying.
“He-here they are.” Harry sounding just a little too bright and breezy.
Louis turned, his torso bare, toned, but rounded in the most perfect way.
“Have those creases gone?” Louis had a soft mocking tone to his voice.
“They are both looking pristine.” Harry busied himself, laying out their clothes, absolutely not looking at Louis’ body.
“I didn’t bring a tie.” Harry suddenly blurted out.
“Fucking hell.” He knocked on his own forehead. “I’ve had so much going on at home and I meant to put one in. Bugger.” Harry huffed and sunk down onto the bed, scrubbing his face with his hands.
"I won't wear one either.." Louis spoke, his voice soft.
"It's no big deal, we'll be trendy, tieless dudes."
Harry looked up, Louis face frank and open.
"You don't have to do that." Harry shook his head. "I'm the idiot."
"I don't mind." Louis shrugged.
Harry watched him straighten up from folding his sweats and Donny shirt that he’d just taken off, he wandered to the bathroom, spritzing aftershave on himself and adding a little more deodorant to his underarms.
Harry pulled the t shirt off, holding up a black shirt against his body and looking in the mirror.
“I’m wearing a black shirt too.” Louis came back into the room, leaving a trail of woody cologne, beginning to hum the tune to men in black.
“You’re quick you know that? You make me laugh.” Harry chuckled, laying the shirt on his bed with the rest of his things.
“You said you had a lot going on at home...” Louis’ eyes swept down Harry’s body, Harry still only in his boxers.
Harry’s eyes met Louis’ inquisitive face.
“I umm... I split from my partner last week.” Harry sat slowly on the bed, unballing a pair of socks.
“Oh I’m sorry..” Louis’ voice dropped low. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Nah, it’s fine, we both kinda knew, it wasn’t..It’d become humdum, no excitement anymore, we were both kidding ourselves.”
Harry sat for a second, his mind wandering to Daniel.
“He’s moving to Cardiff, nearer his parents and a new job, it was the push we needed to break free.” Harry explained, running his hand through his hair.
Louis was frozen, one arm in his black shirt.
“Oh.” He swallowed hard, his adams apple bobbing in his neck, staring at a patch on the carpet, Harry watched him, his eyes blinking slowly as the seconds passed by.
“I’m sorry we dragged you along if you had all that going on.” Louis eventually found his tongue, snapping out of his daydream and pulling his shirt on properly.
“Nah it’s fine, I was kind of glad of the distraction, he’s moving out as we speak.” Harry quirked his lip sadly.
“How long had you been together?” Louis sat down on the edge of his own bed, mirroring Harry, putting a sock on.
“Just short of three years, met through friends at uni.”
“Sorry.” Louis sighed. “I’m such a dick, I need to learn to keep my trap shut, jesus, raking all this up for you, sorry.” He pursed his lips shaking his head.
“Hey, It’s fine.” Harry reached over, grabbing his forearm as he reached down to put his other sock on. Louis’ eyes trailing down to Harry’s hand touching him. Harry let him go, opening the fingers on his hand as an apology for touching him.
“I’m kinda relieved, I didn’t want to face the truth that we were over but I knew we couldn’t go on like that.” Harry lifted his shoulders, rolling first one back, then the other.
“Living on my own for the first time ever at the ripe old age of twenty two.” Harry tore at his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Hey, don’t knock it, I loved moving into the probation hostel, I got my own room for the first time in a long time.” Louis smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
“But I know what you mean, when you’ve been used to someone being there, must be weird for you.” Louis acknowledged.
They finished getting dressed, Harry’s trousers just a tad too tight, Louis’ just a tad too long.
“Will I do?” Louis asked, unsure of himself, sliding his jacket on and fastening the buttons, nipping him in at the waist.
“Wow.” Harry turned, catching full sight of him all finished.
“Can I just..” Harry delved about in his bag, pulling out a small tin of Vaseline with almond extract.
“Your lips look quite dry and chapped, I have something…” He ran his pinkie finger in the tin and approached Louis slowly.
“Open.” Harry’s voice soft, quaking slightly.
Louis stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide, complying with everything Harry said, opening his lips, letting out a soft sigh, his shoulders dropping down as Harry touched his finger to Louis’ bottom lip, dabbing then smearing it across, Harry watching intently, so close now, feeling his body heat, smelling his aftershave and his hairspray and him. Harry’s hand shook a little at the delicate strokes his finger had to maintain, swapping to his upper lip, his hand brushing the light scratch of his whiskers, realising that all he wanted to do was feel those lips on his, jesus, the feeling was overpowering, the heaviness in the pit of his stomach, throbbing low in his groin. His eyes went from Louis’ lips to his soft blue eyes watching him, a slight fear projecting back at Harry. He needed to stop touching him.
“There, that’ll help.” Harry’s voice deep and raspy.
“Thanks.” Louis’ rich voice sounding low too.
“Can I take a picture, for the article?” He was reaching into his bag already, pulling the lens cap off as Louis shuffled nervously.
“Dunno, I’m ummm, do you need it?” Louis frowned slightly.
“I’d like to, it’ll look good on the article, you look good, you scrub up well but If you’d rather I didn’t..” Harry’s voice trailed off, disappointment pricking at his spine.
“Ok, just one then.” Louis relented.
“Well I’ll take a few but I’ll only use one, the best one, you can choose it.” Harry promised, stepping back and snapping a few pics of him, front on, side on, the camera loved him, he was so photogenic. The shadows catching all the planes of his face so well, his hair looking amazing, the suit clinging to all the right parts of his body.
Harry looked back at a few through the viewer. His jaw tightened at the hinges, it was like looking at a professional model.
“You’re quite stunning.” Harry blurted out. “The camera loves you.”
“Shurrup dickhead.” Louis turned away, embarrassment flaming his cheeks.
“Will not, it’s true, here look.” Harry thrust the camera at Louis, shuffling closer, watching his face as he saw himself in the viewer.
“See.” Harry held the camera steady.
“I look weird.” Louis stared at his picture, not quite knowing what to say.
“Here let me take you now.” Louis took a hold of the camera, pointing it at Harry who laughed and shook his head.
“It’s not about me.” But Louis didn’t listen and snapped away, pressing the button over and over. Harry posed for a couple then pouted and folded his arms.
“Don’t want my ugly mug all over the place.” Harry huffed.
“Hardly.” Louis muttered, handing over the camera to Harry.
They sat on their own beds in silence, Harry pulling his boots on, Louis lacing his shoes up.
Standing and brushing imaginary bits from his shoulders, Harry picked up what he needed to take with them, packed it all into his camera bag and they were ready to go.
They called for Paul and quickly made their way across the carpark to the conference centre. It was brightly lit in the dark of the night, cars pulling up, people arriving. The warmth of the building was a welcome escape from the freezing Glasgow night.
“Champagne for the toast” A man with a tray of champagne flutes offered them, making sure everyone had a glass.
Paul, Louis and Harry helped themselves, as Mark Jarvis took to the small stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a very warm welcome to Claremont.” He went on to make a speech about their aims and goals and what the week ahead consisted of.
Everyone shuffled about listening to the speech, Harry watched Louis out of the corner of his eye, sniffing the glass of champagne at one point, making Harry’s lips twitch in a smile.
“So if you could all raise your glasses in a toast. To Claremont.”
“To Claremont.” The crowd echoed him.
Everyone took a drink of champagne.
Paul was hustled into a chat with a group of three other people, Paul knew them as the governors of other young offenders institutes.
“That was bleeding horrible.” Louis leaned in and hissed in Harry’s ear.
“My tongue feels like a carpet, it’s all furry, is that because of this stuff?” Louis nodded his head to the champagne glass.
“Is this your first time tasting champagne?” Harry smiled kindly at him
“Yes, and my last.” Louis’ face pulled in a comical grimace.
“You have to acquire the taste, let your palate get used to the flavours and how it makes your mouth feel.” Harry explained patiently, a soft chuckle escaping him as he watched Louis take another sip, his eyes squeezing closed, his mouth turning down in a frown.
“I feel like my tongue is massive, like it’s swelled up.” He grumbled, poking his tongue in and out of his mouth, scraping it along his top teeth.. “If I die, tell them it was this shit, that I am allergic to it.”
“You’re not allergic.” Harry pulled Louis further back away from the groups of people chatting. “Its just really dry, it’s dried your tongue out but that’s what it does sometimes.” He explained carefully, mirth in his eyes watching Louis pull a variation of faces.
“Feel like I’ve got a gob full of sawdust.” Louis wrinkled his nose.
Harry laughed throwing his head back, his teeth shining. “Lets get you a sweet drink to counteract, you want orange juice or something?” Harry placed his hand on the small of Louis’ back and guided him over, feeling the heat seeping from him.
“Sir, what can I get you? Gin and tonic, Vodka cranberry, scotch on the rocks?” The barman gestured to trays of ready mixed drinks.
“Oh umm.” Harry turned to Louis. “There is ready made drinks trays here, what do you like?”
Louis shrugged. “Dunno, suggest something.”
“Just two orange juices please.” Harry ordered from the barman.
“Lets get the taste of champagne out of your mouth before we move on to hard liquor.” Harry winked at him. “The night is young.”
They sipped at their glasses, doing a bit of people watching, some guy coming around and taking photos of all the guests.
Louis posed stiffly, tension in his shoulders. The man moved on to the next people.
“You ok?” Harry lowered his voice, leaning in to Louis.
“Bit nervous.” Louis admitted, taking a sip of orange, his eyes meeting Harry’s over the glass.
“What of?” Harry turned further into Louis’ space, heads closer, talking low.
“Just..just all this, I don’t like champagne, I don’t have social skills to pull this off.” Louis’ voice tense.
Harry reached and took a hold of Louis’ delicate wrist, his thumb pushing into the bone. “Hey, you’re doing just great, I’ll help you all I can, stick by me.”
Louis stared at Harry, eyes wide like a startled rabbit. “I will.” He breathed.
A gong sounded. “Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner is served.”
Harry reached and picked up two glasses of scotch.
“Here have a sip, calm your nerves a little.”
Louis sipped at the amber liquid, the heat hitting his throat immediately.
“Oh that’s sharp but smooth.” He took another sip.
“I like this better.” He tipped the rest of the glass into his mouth, draining it and grinning at Harry’s shocked face.
“What?"
“So you don’t like champers but you just downed scotch and liked it.” Harry shook his head, lips together smirking.
“Well I am in Scotland.” Louis quipped, bounding forward to join the throng of people heading to the tables, looking over his shoulder at a bemused Harry.
They were on a table of ten, Louis nestled between Harry and Paul.
“I’m Paul Higgins, I am senior learning manager at Wetherby secure learning centre near Leeds.” Paul gestured.
“This is Louis Tomlinson, fitness and nutrition mentor at Wetherby and Harry Styles, he’s a journalist, shadowing us to do a piece on Wetherby when we have our official reopening in two weeks.” Paul explained.
Introductions were made, they learned they were sharing with three directors of a homeless charity and two local government officers.
The chatter was at light as the first course was served. For starters they dined on scottish smoked salmon paired with a crisp chablis to accompany it.
Harry tapped Louis’ knee.
“The wine will be very dry.” Harry warned him.
The waiter had already filled their glasses so Louis had to taste to be polite. He visibly shook and shuddered at the sharpness of the wine.
“Gross.” He whispered to Harry.
“So Mr Tomlinson.” The lady from local government angled towards him.
“Will this be your first job working with people with such complex needs?” She sipped at her wine, watching him.
Harry felt Louis stiffen.
“I..” His voice cracked a little, he cleared his throat, Harry pressed his thumb into Louis’ thigh. “I am a protege of Wetherby, I have been where these people are now and I know exactly what their needs are.” Louis held it together, Harry watched him take a shaky breath, continuing on.
“I aim to give them what Paul and the team gave me, the confidence to find my potential and give myself the best possible start back into the community. Pay back what I was given and hope it creates a chain reaction.”
Harry didn’t realise just how rigid his body was until he let his breath go and realised every muscle was in spasm.
“Oh, so you are a success story then Mr Tomlinson?”
Louis nodded. “Yes, yes, I really hope I can do Wetherby proud and prove that it works.”
It opened up the conversation then as Sian, Maisy and Levon from the homeless charity, rattled off statistics of people leaving secure units, that the percentage of them ending up homeless was on the decline for the first time in a long time all thanks to the carefully maintained aftercare of inmates through probation hostels and the care system.
“These education schemes work.” Maisy smiled and nodded at Paul and Louis.
“We feel the government will fund many more once they see the affect it has on reoffending and breaking the cycle of homeless, reoffending and ending back inside.” Levon explained.
Louis held up well to the questioning he received from them and was much more relaxed as they were served their main course, cannon of lamb with drambuie sauce. It was served with a Rioja.
“Will I like this?” Louis leaned into Harry, talking from the side of his mouth.
“Try it, it’s fruity, nice.” Harry swirled the wine and slurped it. “Mmm delicious.”
He caught a drop from his lip, Louis watching him, copying him swirling the glass and taking a drink.
“Umm well, it’s not as horrible as the white and the champers but I still prefer the scotch.” Louis nudged Harry with his elbow. “Not very cultured am I?” His following laughter a little terse.
“You’re doing brilliantly, proud of you.” Harry met his gaze, his eyes sweeping down Louis’ face, taking in his flawless skin, the clarity of the blue in his irises, his pupils tiny from the lighting.
“Am I?” Louis sucked his cheek in between his teeth making his lips pout.
“Feel like a fish out of water.” He breathed quietly.
“Relax, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Harry tapped his knee into Louis' thigh, feeling Louis push his knee back into Harry’s thigh.
“Thanks man.” Louis looked down smiling to himself.
The courses kept coming along with the wine. Louis finally tasted a white wine he liked, the dessert wine, sweet and not a hint of dry tongue.
“That one was lush.” Louis nodded authoritatively, Harry shaking his head, curls bouncing, eyes rolling.
“Expert now are we?” Harry teased.
They cleared the tables and had a display of Scottish dancing, boys and girls dancing traditional reels.
Louis and Harry sat clapping along, standing and cheering at the end.
Harry felt Louis stumble into his back.
Harry turned, took in his overly flushed cheeks, unfocused eyes.
“Are you pissed Lou?” Harry murmured to him, his eyes widening in a question.
“Nooo.” Louis clearly was, plonking his bum down heavily in his seat. “I’ve only had a bit of wine.” Louis put his thumb and index finger almost touching. “And a bit of that scotch and that after dinner drink thing.”
“Bugger.” Harry patted his lips with the napkin.
“Can you get up and come to the loo?”
Louis nodded.
Harry slipped his napkin into his pocket and stood up, the rest of the table were chatting away, it was easy to escape.
“Need a wee anyway.” Louis drawled, his speech slower and slightly slurred.
Harry wet the napkin, waiting for Louis to finish.
“Come on, we’ll go get some fresh air, sober you up a bit.” Harry guided him outside to where the smokers were huddled against the cold. They turned the corner, looking for a little shelter from the biting wind.
Harry placed him against the wall, pressing the damp cloth to Louis’ forehead.
“Deep breaths.” He instructed, Louis folding one knee, placing his foot flat against the wall, Harry stood facing him, close enough to hold the cloth against his skin.
“Feel dizzy.” Louis closed his eyes. “Spinning.”
Harry removed the cloth, let his damp skin hit the night air, cool him down.
“You’ll be fine.” Harry assured him, calm quiet voice soothing in the darkness.
“Long time since I was tipsy.” Louis opened his eyes, his pupils huge in the pitch blackness, the only light coming from the windows above them.
“I shouldn’t have given you the scotch, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Heyyy, you didn’t make me drink it, it’s my own fault.” Louis frowned, bending and thumping his own thigh.
They stayed out in the freezing night air until they were visibly shaking with the cold.
“Come on, don’t want you to get pneumonia, you feel ok to go back inside?” Harry slid his arm around Louis’ shoulder.
“Yep, I’m ok, I’ll just sit quiet.” Louis giggled. “But fuck that Maisy can gab a lot.”
Harry threw his head back laughing. “Councillor Hughes is just as bad, she’s chewed my ears off all night long, bit of a snooty bugger to be honest” Harry admitted.
They bumped shoulders conspiratorially. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” Louis hiccuped.
“Oh god.” Harry groaned, “If we manage to hide how pissed you are we deserve a medal.”
“Shhhhh.” Louis looked over his shoulder.
“You have a big gob, people will hear.”
“Heyyyyy, watch it, I am helping to save your arse lad.” Harry flicked him, reaching the door to go inside.
Louis stopped. “I owe you.” He fist bumped Harry.
Louis held his own all night. Harry got him water, took him for air and by the time it was over, Louis was sobering up a little.
“Night boys, breakfast at nine, then a morning training Tommo, don’t sleep in.” Paul was a little tipsy himself as he stumbled into his room.
"Shit, I'm going to die tomorrow running about doing training." Louis flopped onto his bed, arms over his eyes. "Feet are killing, not used to such stiff shoes." His voice muffled by the sleeve of his jacket.
Harry toed off his boots, watching Louis lay so still, he cocked his head to the side, listening for him breathing, wondering if he had fallen asleep already.
He crossed to Louis’ bed and gently pulled open the laces, Louis stirred.
“Oh.” Louis jumped as Harry slid his shoes from his feet. “Tired.” He mumbled, his voice a low rasp.
“Need to hang your suit up Lou.” Harry’s practical side kicking in.
Louis sighed and sat up, sliding his legs around and lumbering over to the bathroom.
Harry quickly undressed, sliding his t shirt on with his boxers and began to hang his clothes up.
Louis emerged in his boxers, shivering a little, his teeth chattering.
“Cold,” He shuddered.
Finding his sweats and Doncaster Rovers top in his drawer, he quickly pulled them on, adding a hoodie on top.
“That cold?” Harry frowned, feeling the radiator, it was warm but not hot.
Harry opened the wardrobe and found an extra throw for the bed.
“Here, this will be better, you’ll boil in that hoodie.” Harry pulled Louis’ duvet back.
“Get in, I’ll hang your clothes up, you get warm, we need you fit and well these next few weeks.”
Louis stood, arms wrapped around himself. “You’ve been..You’re a good person Harry.” Louis frowned a little, pulling at the hem of his sleeve. “But I can look after myself.”
“I know you can, that’s not even a question, I just don’t want you to catch your death of cold in chilly Glasgow.” Harry cajoled him. “You’ll need to be on top of your game, those training sessions will be cold.”
Louis looked up, finally meeting his eyes.
“Ok, yeah you’re right.” Louis grudgingly agreed. “You’re like a mother hen.”
“Prize cock please.” Harry gasped, throwing his hand in the air.
Louis shook his head. “Crazy.” His lips quirking into a smile though.
Harry tutted and shepherded him towards the bed. “Come on I’ll tuck you in, been years since I did that, my sister used to love the covers tight around her so no ghosts could pinch her from her bed.” He chuckled at the memory.
Louis unzipped the thick top and laid it on the floor by his bed and slid into the crisp sheets unquestioningly.
Harry covered him with the extra fleece throw, tucking it in tight around his back and then pulled the duvet up over his shivering body, Louis’ eyes tight shut the whole time.
“Night Lou.” He whispered, fetching a bottle of water and placing it by his bed, watching him for a few seconds, watching his nose flare as he took deep slow breaths that became shallower and shallower, tiptoeing away to let him sleep.
Harry silently hung Louis’ suit up, placing his shoes together and padded to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Looking at his face in the mirror as he brushed his teeth he thought about Louis, so tough and independent but deep down, so unsure and a little fragile.
Harry was enjoying taking care of him a little, helping him sober up and tucking him in tonight.
He flicked the bathroom light off and used his phone light to navigate his way into bed, sinking into a deep sleep soon after.
The noise startled Harry. A whimper followed by muffled sobs.
“I’m sorry, sorry, I..sorry..” Harry sat bolt upright, grabbing for his phone and flicking his light on. Louis was thrashing about.
Harry jumped out of bed.
“Lou..Louis are you ok?” Harry gently shook him, Louis’ terrified eyes flew open, his fringe stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat.
Harry inched his bum onto the edge of Louis’ bed.
“Bad dream?” Harry’s voice low and soothing.
Louis was panting, Harry feeling for the bottle of water by his bed.
“Have a drink, you might be a bit dehydrated.
Louis lifted the top half of his body up off the bed, his breathing still erratic.
Harry guided the bottle to his lips, catching the drips with a hand under his chin.
“My brain won’t even let me sleep sometimes.” Louis babbled, still half asleep.
“Shhh, just relax, it’s ok, just a bad dream.” Harry’s voice making Louis’ eyelids flutter closed again.
Harry put the bottle of water down and began tucking him in again, smoothing his hair from his forehead, making soothing little shushing noises.
“It’s all going to be ok.” Harry murmured, leaning down and silently kissing the air near Louis’ ear, breathing in the warm scent of him. Harry went to stand from the bed when the covers rustled and Louis’ hand snaked out, feeling for Harry’s.
“Thank you.” He hummed, his words slurred and slow. Harry meeting his hand and squeezing gently.
Louis didn’t let go, he laced his fingers through Harry’s, turning over to face the window.
Harry pulled gently but Louis had quite a grip. Harry’s arm now over Louis’ back.
“Lou.” Harry whispered.
Louis grunted but didn’t release him.
Harry pulled his duvet over with his left hand and inched his body onto the small sliver of bed remaining.covering his cold body, his head in Louis’ neck, his body slotted behind him, a duvet separating their skin.
Harry awoke before the alarm. Boiling hot, Louis had turned over, his face in Harry’s neck breathing hot air onto his skin. Harry froze. A tangle of limbs and two hot bodies pushed together, luckily the duvet still separated their lower halves.
Harry lay for a few seconds relishing in the heat, the warm smell of skin overpowering him.
He managed to slide out of bed and threw himself into his own cold sheets, retrieving his duvet and snuggling down, but it was nowhere near as cosy.
Louis’ scent was still filling his senses, his body stiff from sleeping in such a cramped position but a warm glow radiated in his chest.
He stretched his legs, hearing the bones crack a little, wincing as his ankle clicked a little too severely.
He managed to drift back off to sleep, his thoughts filled with warm boy and small hands and soft skin.
He was vaguely aware of his alarm going off, Cyndi Lauper singing girls just wanna have fun.
Louis jumped up out of bed as Harry silenced his phone.
“You ermmm you stay in bed a little, I want a shower, you had a broken night with me, sorry, feel bad, you rest…” Louis’ words came tumbling out.
“S’ok, no worries.” Harry pushed his body up onto one elbow. "Nightmare that's all, happens to us all."
Louis stood in the space between their two beds, his arms stretching up revealing an expanse of naturally tawny skin and a light dusting of hair just above his sweats.
“Have another ten minutes, go on.” He grabbed a few things and disappeared into the bathroom.
Harry pushed his face into the pillow. He found Louis so attractive but he was so off limits. He needed to keep this as professional as possible, stop with the crushing on Louis and do his job, but it was hard when he was in such close proximity with him.
He heard the shower spring to life, his imagination taking over, visualising Louis naked, stepping in, soaping himself.
Fuck.
His morning wood was pushing into the mattress in all it’s glory.
Did he have time? He wondered. Just get rid of this ache in his groin, this heat in his belly from seeing him all sleepy and warm.
In a split second he’d pulled his boxers off, laying them under his erection protecting the mattress and steadily rutted his arse, gaining delicious friction for his straining cock.
The noise pattern of the water hitting Louis and the wall constantly changing as he moved about, soaping himself, Harry’s ears listening, the thrill of doing this when Louis was just behind the door making the heat rise up his spine, his lower body throbbing.
He pinched at his left nipple, his head facing the bathroom door as his hips thrust, the sound of the water steady now as if Louis was stood still. Fuck, was he bringing himself off too?
Harry slowed his movements, listening, the water muted as if hitting Louis’ back then running to the floor, a softer sound.
Keeping the slow momentum in his hips Harry continued, waiting, listening, until he heard it. The same faint muffled grunt.
Harry’s cock swelled, the sound of the water changing, Louis moving about, Harry rutted, hearing that noise in his head, over and over, picturing Louis, fisting his own cock, the water snapped off, Harry thrust once more, spilling into the boxers, a rush of air forced out of his lungs his face hitting the pillow, the sweat on his brow seeping into his hair.
Damn, he needed to move, get the filthy boxers hidden in his case and clean ones on for when Louis came out.
Only the door flung open and out walked Louis, towel slung low on his hips.
“I didn’t offer you the loo first, I bet you’re bursting to go aren’t you? sorry.” Louis bustled about.
“I’m ok, you finish off getting ready, I’m ok, honest.” Harry tried to sound casual but he could hear the panic in his own voice, wondering if Louis was suspicious or could smell him.
“Well I want to say sorry for all the ridiculousness last night, getting pissed and you having to sober me up and then the nightmare thing, I am so sorry.” Louis stood at the bottom of Harry’s bed, Harry looking over his shoulder at him.
“Go on I don’t mind, go pee or whatever and I’ll quickly put my sweats on in here.”
Louis gesticulated, nodding his head towards the bathroom door.
Harry whined, “I umm I can’t.” Harry dropped his head into the pillow.
“I’m naked and I...” Louis stopped opening the drawer that he was searching in.
“Oh.” Louis cleared his throat.
“I had bad morning wood and took care of it and now I’m laid here and..”
Louis’ mouth quirked up at the corner.
“Shit, I’m a fucking pest aren’t I?” Louis grabbed what he was looking for and bolted into the bathroom.
“Sorry.” He shouted from behind the door. “Let me know when I can come out.”
Harry could hear the smile in his voice.
“S’not funny.” Harry groaned.
“It is a bit.” Louis giggled.
“Please don’t tell Paul.” Harry begged, wiping his messy groin on his pants, rolling them into a ball and stuffing them into the pocket of his case.
“Thought you looked a bit red.” Louis finally lost it and laughed.
“Hate you.” Harry deadpanned, sliding fresh boxers on. “Ok it’s safe to come out.” Harry turned away, too embarrassed to make eye contact.
“I’m coming, oh no wait, that was you.” Louis teased, strolling out into the bedroom.
“Goddddddd.” Harry ground out through gritted teeth, crouching down, covering his face.
“I’m a horndog, I can’t help it sometimes but I will control myself now I promise.”
“Harry, I shared cells with boys for the last seven years, nothing phases me absolutely nothing.” Louis patted Harry’s shoulder.
“We used to have wanking contests, who could come quickest, who could shoot furthest, you name it, we did it.” Louis snorted, pulling black skinny jeans up his legs.
“I don’t talk about these things normally but to help you with your embarrassment, I thought I’d share.”
Harry stared at him, eyes wide. “Oh god, wow.” Harry whistled low. “Thanks for that, I feel tons better.” He brought his hand down on Louis' shoulder, squeezing once then escaping into the shower.
Louis waited until he heard the water start up before his dropped down onto his bed, scrubbing his hands over his face, letting out a muted groan.
“Fuckkkk.”
******
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