{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears","title":"if we go back to stars","subtitle":"we won't need any money.","author":{"name":"pining, invariably."},"link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"service.feed","type":"application\/x.atom+xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom","title":"if we go back to stars"}}],"updated":"2021-08-15T21:24:04Z","entry":[{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:17558","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/17558.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=17558"}}],"title":"dangerbears @ 2021-08-15T14:24:00","published":"2021-08-15T21:24:04Z","updated":"2021-08-15T21:24:04Z","content":"<center><b>masterlist<\/b><br \/><\/center><br \/><blockquote><blockquote><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/1992.html\" target=\"_blank\">don't give up on us quite yet<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles, zayn malik\/liam payne) <i>AU. louis is kind of a mess and harry is kind of perfect and zayn is kind of dumb and protective and they all work in a restaurant sometimes.<\/i><br \/>\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013 <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/3601.html\" target=\"_blank\">prequel<\/a> | <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/2948.html\" target=\"_blank\">sequel<\/a><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/5233.html\" target=\"_blank\">of all the stars most beautiful<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles, zayn malik\/liam payne) <i>AU. when isn't the right time for a bookshop fic? louis sells books and harry makes sandwiches and zayn meets someone on the internet.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/6589.html\" target=\"_blank\">sing along and it might just get you through<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. what happens when a northern indierocker stumbles across a teenybopper popstar in the middle of the street in manchester, basically.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/6718.html\" target=\"_blank\">salted eyes<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>non-AU<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/7227.html\" target=\"_blank\">rise from your burning fiat<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/zayn malik) <i>AU of the high school variety. louis and zayn have always been best friends and they always will be, no matter how much time they let pass.<\/i><br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/tag\/rec%20list\" target=\"_blank\">fic recommendations<\/a>.<\/blockquote><\/blockquote>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:17365","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/17365.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=17365"}}],"title":"harder to hide than i thought; au (hs\/lt)","published":"2013-10-26T04:40:07Z","updated":"2013-10-26T04:40:07Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: harder to hide than i thought<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~6,500<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue. <br \/><b>summary<\/b>: ridiculous self-indulgent high school au. louis's best friend's little brother suddenly got very attractive.<br \/><br \/><b>( <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/1018539\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">harder to hide than i thought<\/a> )<\/b>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:17143","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/17143.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=17143"}}],"title":"tenderness flooded his voice (au; hs\/lt)","published":"2013-08-26T20:01:09Z","updated":"2013-08-26T20:01:09Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: tenderness flooded his voice<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: 12,000<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. things collapse in on louis, but harry's there. harry's always there. <br \/><br \/><b>( <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/943140\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">tenderness flooded his voice<\/a> )<\/b>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:16881","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/16881.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=16881"}}],"title":"a grocery list pinned to blue (harry styles\/louis tomlinson)","published":"2013-08-08T16:13:00Z","updated":"2013-08-08T16:13:00Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: a grocery list pinned to blue<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~20,000<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. after eight years, louis finally has everything he's wanted. except for harry.<br \/><br \/><b>( <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/917284\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">a grocery list pinned to blue<\/a> )<\/b>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:16539","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/16539.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=16539"}}],"title":"every day he wears the same thing; i think he smokes pot (nh\/lt)","published":"2013-05-29T05:49:28Z","updated":"2013-05-29T05:49:28Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: every day he wears the same thing; i think he smokes pot<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: niall horan\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: 4,500 ish words<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue. except for the rambling about snapbacks. i don't know. <br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. this is mostly meet-cute nonsense. also, it's very hot. temperature-wise. <br \/><b>notes<\/b>: LOWER ANY AND ALL EXPECTATIONS. also sorry i'll write something Real and Substantial next. <br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/>The sun is right overhead. It's, like, literally right on top of Louis. His hair is actually hot to the touch and his skin feels like it's bubbling off and he's still in his work clothes and perhaps this is hell. Louis leans against the bus stop and stares across the shimmering waves of heat rippling off the sidewalk. He imagines the gates of hell in the distance, opening up like ghostly arms of molten gold. <br \/><br \/>Or something. <br \/><br \/>The bus isn't fucking coming, is the problem. Louis has been stuck behind the counter of the hottest fucking coffee shop on the fucking planet for six hours and now all he wants it to get on the bus that will invariably smell like roasting trash and get to his apartment which will invariably be the temperature of Satan's bedchamber. <br \/><br \/>But the bus isn't fucking coming. <br \/><br \/>Louis presses his forehead to the hot metal of the bus stop sign and sighs. His skin is sticky. His face is sweating and his fringe is stringy and he feels like the dogshit he can smell wafting through the air. Brilliant. <br \/><br \/>Pushing himself away from the sign, he starts walking east in search of shade. He is a Desert Warrior. He can make it. He will find shade and claim it for his own. He will build his city from the smouldering ashes of Shoreditch. History will know him as a ruthless conqueror, but his subjects will remember him as a fair and just king. <br \/><br \/>The record shop to his right advertises air conditioning, and those two words are enough to convince Louis to abandon his war cries. As he pushes open the door, the cool air welcomes him in like he's a celebrated hero. <br \/><br \/>Louis maybe needs some water and a lie-down. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" a loud voice rings out. Louis looks around and sees nothing. <br \/><br \/>\"God?\" Louis responds. <br \/><br \/>The voice laughs and a wiry blond boy in a snapback and a tank top pops up from behind the counter. \"Sorry, mate,\" he says with a smile. \"Computer came unplugged. Anyway, let me know if I can help you with anything!\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins at him. \"Thanks, but, y'know. The air conditioner is my true mistress.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah.\" The boy laughs again. \"I'm never first choice. Fate is cruel. I'm Niall. I'm also bored, so if you're not looking for anything, you are definitely allowed to talk to me.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis walks over and leans against the counter, tired of being on his feet. <br \/><br \/>Niall watches him with a smile. \"Your shoulders are really fucking red.\" <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Louis glances at his skin and groans. \"I don't <i>burn<\/i>, god. I am turning into a mere <i>mortal<\/i>.\" <br \/><br \/>Laughing again, Niall says, \"Save it, Apollo. I'm Irish.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a once over and smirks. \"An ivory skinned beauty, I see.\" <br \/><br \/>So, like. Louis has been standing in the sun for twenty minutes and he's been standing in a stuffy coffee shop for six hours before that and now he's cooling down and there's this cute boy in front of him. So, like. Sue him if he flirts. <br \/><br \/>And, like. Niall has a great laugh. It's loud and full-bodied and he's got straight white teeth and blue eyes and rosy cheeks and messy blond fringe poking out of his dumb hat and it all comes together to create this stupidly endearing boy. Louis can't decide if he wants to give Niall a noogie or, like, run his hands up and down his biceps. <br \/><br \/>Maybe both. In that order. Or reverse order. Whichever seems fitting in the moment. <br \/><br \/>Louis is staring, now. Great. He blinks and Niall's still grinning at him. \"Sorry, mate,\" Louis says, shaking his head. \"I can't decide if you're a mirage, or what. Oasis in the desert type shit. If I get too close, you might disappear.\" <br \/><br \/>Okay. Cool. Someone needs to actually tape Louis's mouth closed. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks again. Niall's still grinning, even wider now. <br \/><br \/>He says, \u201cThat\u2019s said to me with some frequency. An oasis in the desert, a godsend, a gift to this universe. I\u2019m widely known as being great.\u201d <br \/><br \/>\u201cAnd so modest,\u201d Louis says back, grinning up through his eyelashes. \"Hey, sell me an album.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall bites down on his lower lip and looks at Louis appraisingly. \"Alright, I'm gonna have to ask you a few questions first.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis quirks an eyebrow. \"Go for it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Alright.\" Niall sinks down into the chair in front of the computer and fiddles around for a moment. Neil Young starts blaring from the massive tower speakers. Louis rolls his eyes and Niall laughs again. <br \/><br \/>Louis is quickly falling in love with Niall's laugh. Gross. <br \/><br \/>\"You can, like, sit, you know,\" Niall says. \"Hop up on the counter.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Thank you, shit,\" Louis breathes. \"Been on my feet all bloody day.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall leans back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee. He steeples his fingers and studies Louis with joking sincerity. \"First of all, what's your name?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Louis. Tomlinson.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall nods. \"Hometown?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Doncaster.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Hmmm. Favourite band?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis tilts his head to the side, thinking. \"The Fray.\" <br \/><br \/>Nodding, Niall hums again. \"Favourite band pre-1980?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis has to think harder for this one. He kicks his heels against the wood base of the counter. It's covered in album release stickers and old band stickers and posters for local shows. \"Queen,\" he finally says.<br \/><br \/>Niall nods. \"Good choice. Okay. Have you ever heard of Bastille?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head no. <br \/><br \/>\"Cool.\" Niall smiles and leans back over the computer. Something with soft chanting and  a heavy beat starts pouring out of the speakers and Louis leans back on his hands, closing his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"It's good,\" he says, after the singing starts. It is; it's got that certain quality of overwhelming that Louis loves in music. Something to get lost in. <br \/><br \/>Niall nods a bit proudly. \"I know. Wait till the harmonies kick in.\" <br \/><br \/>They listen in silence for a bit longer, Niall bobbing his head to the beat and mouthing the words. Louis watches him with a small smile that he can't bloody control on his lips. <br \/><br \/>After half the album has gone by and Louis has learned that Niall's from a tiny town in Ireland and that his favourite band is the Eagles and his favourite voice is Michael Bubl\u00e9 and he likes to eat. Everything. He likes to eat everything. <br \/><br \/>Louis has maybe never laughed so hard and so long with another person in his life. He's quite used to making himself laugh, but Niall is \u2013 well. Niall just plays off Louis's stupidity with sunshine stupidity of his own and Louis has actually <i>wiped his eyes<\/i> from laughing so hard. He didn't even know that was a real thing. <br \/><br \/>The sun's disappearing, and the long shadows of twilight are stretching across the road. Louis can't see waves of heat anymore. A blessing from god. <br \/><br \/>Niall glances at the clock. \"Shit,\" he says. \"Was meant to close a half hour ago. You've charmed me with your wiles. You've wiled me with your charms. I am both wiled and charmed.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"I've been told I do that.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall stands and arches an eyebrow in Louis's direction. \"Gonna buy the record?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I don't know,\" Louis says, coy. \"Are you gonna be here tomorrow?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Niall says, drawing the word out, leaning against the register with his hips cocked. <br \/><br \/>Louis hops off the counter and winks with a stupid smitten smile. \"Then I'll see you tomorrow.\" <br \/><br \/>The door jangles on his way out. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next day is even fucking hotter. Louis fully and completely does not understand how someone can order a hot coffee when it's fifty six billion degrees outside, and he fully does not understand how it's possible to look cute after working an eight hour shift in a sixty seven billion degree coffeeshop. <br \/><br \/>But Louis is nothing if not determined. He slips into the bathroom as they're closing up and he washes his face, restyles his hair, and pulls on a tighter shirt. When he saunters out, Harry looks up from where he's pretending to sweep and lets out a low whistle.<br \/><br \/>\"I've had dreams about the moment you finally let me bend you over the couch, Lou, but I didn't expect it to be today,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks, striking a pose. \"How do I look?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Hot,\" Zayn says, dryly. \"Temperature-wise.\" <br \/><br \/>Sticking out his tongue, Louis wipes down the counter carelessly and tosses the rag in the sink. \"Can I bunk off early?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry huffs out a laugh. \"First you have to tell us what you're doing. Wait, sorry, I mean <i>who<\/i> you're doing.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ugh.\" Louis checks his hair again in the chrome of the espresso machine. \"You know the record shop down the road by the bus stop?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn gets a stupid fucking look of dawning realisation. \"Oh, Louis,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis raises his eyebrows. \"What?\" <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Harry immediately spins around to look at Zayn. \"What? Oh my god. Is there drama?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn's smirking now. \"Louis is in love with Niall Horan.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry looks blank. \"Fill me in!\" Now he's whining. \"Zaaaayn.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I'm in love with no man. They have air conditioner there. What's a Niall? You're stupid. And ugly.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Air conditioning?\" Zayn says. \"That's cute. Pet names already.\" <br \/><br \/>Scowling, Louis straightens up and adjust his shirt. \"I'm quite sure I have no idea what you're talking about.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Lou!\" Harry says. \"Louis likes a boy, Louis likes a boy, Louis likes a boy,\" he sings as he starts some sort of demented ballroom dancing with the broom. Louis is pretty sure Harry's letting the broom lead. <br \/><br \/>Louis hates his friends. \"Whatever,\" he says. \"I'm leaving. Don't tell Ben I left early, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn waves a hand. \"Tell Niall hi for me.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pauses at the door. \"Wait,\" he says. \"You know him?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, yes,\" Zayn says. \"Horan and I go way back.\" <br \/><br \/>Turning around slowly, Louis puts his hands on his hips and juts his chin out in Zayn's direction. \"Details, Malik.\"<br \/><br \/>It would probably be considered rude to smack the smug expression off Zayn's face, Louis thinks, but the temptation is overwhelming. <br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Zayn starts, \"he lives with Jesy.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Jesy,\" Louis says. \"Perrie's friend.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn nods. \"We go over there quite a bit. Get drunk, play some guitar. He's pretty good.\" <br \/><br \/>\"And?\" Louis presses. <br \/><br \/>Zayn blinks. \"And? He always has beer. And food. And good music. And FIFA. He's hilarious, too. Loud.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and reminds himself of the potential rudeness of slapping Zayn. \"And,\" he says, dangerously, \"Zayn, do you happen to know which way he swings?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh!\" Zayn says, as if he's fucking surprised by the question. Louis twitches with irritation. \"Well. Hmm. Wait,\" and Zayn pauses, thinking. \"I'm not sure, actually. I've never seen him with anyone.\" He furrows his brow. \"Weird,\" he mumbles.<br \/><br \/>Louis licks his lips and tries to control his breathing. He's very yoga. He is the epitome of yoga. The embodiment of yoga. \"I am the embodiment of yoga,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry thinks about that one. \"Not a thing. You can't verb yoga.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm so yoga I'm the Dalai Yoga,\" Louis challenges.<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Whatever, Louis, you could probably seduce the damn queen. Go do your magic.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Wait!\" Harry yells. \"Tell us what happened! When did you make this love connection?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs, hand on the doorknob. \"I stopped in yesterday because of my sweet mistress, the air conditioning. And then, I dunno, Niall and I started talking. For, like, hours or something. About rubbish. He's hilarious. And, like, really hot. Despite the air conditioning.\" Louis chuckles at his own joke. He's the only one. Fuck them. Niall would have laughed. <br \/><br \/>Harry's beaming at him. \"Lou,\" he says fondly.<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh.\" Louis turns the handle. \"Goodbye. The cynic and the sap,\" he mutters. <br \/><br \/>\"Good luck!\" Harry calls after him. Louis waves through the glass.<br \/><br \/>The walk to the record shop is short, but the heat is fucking visible in the air; a thin film of disgusting, coating everything. Louis pushes open the door and hopes like hell his hair stayed in place. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis! You've returned!\" Niall yells from the desk. \"Hey.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"Hey. I think I might buy that album, but maybe you should recommend me something else, just in case.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I can do that.\" Niall gestures to the counter and Louis hoists himself up. \"You look good,\" Niall says, eyes drifting across Louis's chest to his arms and down to his thighs. <br \/><br \/>Louis tingles under the attention. Well, either under the attention or the drying sweat on his skin. Gross. He doesn't know quite what to say so he just winks back at Niall. <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs a little. \"Okay. How do you feel about Fiona Apple?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I've only heard that one song. Parting Gift?\" Louis shrugs.<br \/><br \/>\"Parting Gift?\" Niall asks, switching the music over from Rilo Kiley to Fiona Apple. \"That's a strange choice.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah. Well. I had a boyfriend, once upon a time, and he was really into making mixes for every occasion.\" Louis smirks.<br \/><br \/>Niall looks at him for a second, and then: \"Oh. <i>Oh<\/i>. Even breakups? That's shitty.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Chuckling, Louis looks down at his hands. \"But whatever. Music people, eh?\" he says, raising an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Niall lets out a burst of laughter. \"I've never made a breakup mix that I've actually, like, given to someone. That's just, like. Cold.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh! I'm supposed to say hi to you from Zayn.\" Louis kicks his heels against the collaged wood of the counter. He feels oddly intimidated saying that, because, like. Worlds colliding, or something. Zayn could have definitely told Niall some embarrassing stories about Louis and Louis doesn't know how to control that damage. <br \/><br \/>Niall's face lights up. \"Zayn! Love Zayn! How do you know him? His girlfriend is one of my roommate's best friends! They're adorable. And always in my bloody apartment, being adorable. Sickening, really.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, believe me, I know,\" Louis says. \"Zayn's been one of my best mates since school. He used to live with me and Harry, but then he and Pez moved in together. Whenever we go over there, it's like a free sex show. Except not sex, just, like, a sugar overdose. Never thought I'd see the day.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Harry?\" Niall asks, looking away and down to the computer, fiddling with the mouse.<br \/><br \/>Louis bites back a triumphant grin. \"Harry. Cherub of a boy, really. He's a walking contradiction. Never sure if you wanna fuck him or pinch his cheeks.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall half smiles at that, but it looks forced. \"And you two live together? Cute.\" <br \/><br \/>Chewing on his lip, Louis relishes the moment. That moment of absolute victory, when he can make a cute boy jealous. \"Yep. He's my very best mate. I'm a bit worried he's gonna meet some girl and move out, leaving me to fend for myself.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Who would feed and water you?\" Niall says, visibly relaxing. His smile loosens. <br \/><br \/>Louis wants to climb into his lap and kiss his little red cheeks and little red mouth and muss up his dumb blonde hair and steal his stupid snapback and touch his arms and also dick. \"Indeed,\" Louis agrees. \"I'd be bereft, really. Stranded and alone, with no one to care for me.\" He pauses, and flutters his eyelashes at Niall. \"Would you take care of me, Niall?\" he asks, letting his voice go husky. <br \/><br \/>Niall licks his lips, clearly trying not to smile. \"Do you need a Prince Charming, Lou?\" he says back, in his own lowered voice. <br \/><br \/>\"Nah,\" Louis returns, \"not <i>need<\/i>, per se, but I can't imagine turning down the offer.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You waiting for your tall, dark, and handsome?\" Niall asks, standing up and walking over to lean against the counter, next to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis tilts his head, thinking. \"I don't know if that's quite what I had in mind.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh?\" Niall's close, now. Louis can feel the heat of his body on his own thighs. <br \/><br \/>Shrugging, Louis spreads his legs a little bit, shifting on the counter. \"I'm kind of into blonds lately.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall smiles, a big one that spreads all over his face. \"Are you?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis wrinkles his nose. \"I'm being awful forward and getting nothing back. That's quite rude.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Niall says with a laugh, \"how about I tell you I'm into cute boys with brown hair and sunburned shoulders and stupid jokes and big laughs?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah? And are you gonna do anything about it?\" Louis responds, challenging, but it's belied by his matching stupid smile. <br \/><br \/>Niall pretends to think about this. \"Well, it turns out I met a boy who fits my type almost exactly yesterday. I was thinking about asking for his number, but now I want to kiss him first. Do you think that's moving too fast?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Hmmm,\" Louis sounds. He grabs at Niall's shoulders and drags him between his thighs. \"I think your boy probably wouldn't mind.\"<br \/><br \/>\"My boy, eh?\" Niall's hands slide up to rest high on Louis's legs. <br \/><br \/>Louis just rolls his eyes and pulls Niall closer, sliding his hands around Niall's neck and into the short hair at the base of his skull. Niall leans in and Louis pulls back slightly, grabbing the snapback off Niall's head and shoving it on his own. <br \/><br \/>\"Oi,\" Niall murmurs, nose brushing against Louis's. \"Hat hair.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and slides his fingers up through Niall's hair, messing it up, just as Niall presses his lips to his own. Niall's hands tighten on his thighs momentarily, and then he grasps the dip of Louis's waist, and Louis slides till just the edge of his bum is left on the counter and Niall presses closer. <br \/><br \/>\"You taste like,\" Louis starts, before he gets distracted by Niall's lips and arms. Niall hums questioningly. <br \/><br \/>\"Like?\" Niall asks, pulling back just enough to get the words out. His eyes are heavy on Louis's lips and his hands are roaming over his back and sides. They can't seem to keep still, and Louis understands because Niall has so much <i>arm<\/i> on display and it's turning pink under Louis's hands and his shoulders are, like, big. And stuff. <br \/><br \/>Fuck. <br \/><br \/>\"Like,\" Louis tries again, but he can't finish. He has to lean back in and catch Niall's smile with his own one more time. Niall huffs a laugh into Louis's mouth and Louis just pulls him closer. <br \/><br \/>\"Like?\" Niall asks again. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and Niall grins, rubbing their noses together. \"It's gonna sound cheesy if I say it now, shit,\" Louis says. \"Too much buildup.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Tell me anyway.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh god.\" Louis pulls him in for one more kiss and then wrinkles his nose at himself. \"You taste like sunshine.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall looks surprised for a moment, before it immediately melts into amusement and he bursts into loud laughs. \"Holy shit,\" he gasps, dropping his face to Louis's neck. Louis rolls his eyes at the wall behind Niall's shoulders. <br \/><br \/>\"You're right,\" Niall says, between giggles. \"That was pretty fuckin' cheesy.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shut up,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Niall grins. \"Well, okay.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and pulls him back in. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next afternoon is just as hot, but the humidity broke and now it's just dumping down rain. Louis leans against the counter with his chin in his hands, watching the drops splash against the sidewalk, the iridescent rainbows of oil from the weeks of heat, pooling in the streets. <br \/><br \/>\"I could be a poet,\" he says to Harry, who's drumming with coffee stirrers. The shop is dead, because apparently people can brave dry heat, but god forbid they brave the rain. It's <i>London<\/i>, Louis thinks. People are fucking weird. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Yeah. You're a regular Allen Ginsberg. He wrote about dicks, right?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Vulgar,\" Louis sniffs. \"I am deep. And introspective.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods again. \"You definitely take dicks deep. And introspectively.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I absolutely loathe you.\" Louis turns around to sit on the counter. He's really glad Ben doesn't really bother to work shifts with Harry and him, because the amount of rules they break is kind of appalling. \"I could be a famous poet.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Is there such a thing as a famous poet?\" Harry starts drumming on Louis's forehead. Louis bites at Harry's hands and they bat at each other until the door opens. <br \/><br \/>Louis hops off the counter and puts on his customer smile, which Harry adoringly calls his murderer smile. It might be slightly manic, but whatever. He's obscured by the espresso machine anyway. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" Harry says, moving over to the register. \"Welcome! You're brave for being out there. It's the end of days.\" Harry's customer smile is unequivocally charming. Louis is envious. <br \/><br \/>\"I might drown,\" says the customer in a suspiciously Irish accent, \"but the sun was frying me like a proper well-done steak, so I'll take this for now.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles to himself. \"I'll take this one, Haz, I think,\" he says, coming out from his espresso machine hiding place. \"What can I get you?\" he asks Niall. His face might break from smiling, from hanging out with Niall too much, from stupid sunshine. <br \/><br \/>Niall's smile immediately doubles when he sees Louis and a curl of warmth explodes in Louis's stomach. \"Hi,\" Niall says. He's wearing a different snapback from yesterday, Louis notices. Idiot boy.<br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" Louis says back, stupidly.<br \/><br \/>\"So, um. I realised I never actually got your number.\" Niall leans on the counter and grins up at Louis. <br \/><br \/>Harry squeaks from behind Louis and Louis reaches back blindly, shoving his hand in Harry's face. Harry licks his fingers. <br \/><br \/>\"I could get you my number, probably,\" Louis says, but makes no move to write it down. Harry makes a desperate noise from under Louis's palm. <br \/><br \/>Niall just keeps smiling. \"Okay,\" he says. \"I'll be waiting.\" He pushes off the counter and walks out the door with a wave to Harry and a blown kiss to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis catches it and winks back. <br \/><br \/>Once he's gone, Harry turns to Louis with wide eyes. \"Lou!\" he all-but-shrieks. \"Was that your boy? He's <i>adorable<\/i>! How could you <i>not give him your number<\/i>? I'm going to <i>kill you<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Turning back to the espresso machine to unnecessarily clean the milk steamer, Louis hides his smile. \"Just wait.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Not ten minutes later, Niall bursts back in, holding the hat he was wearing the day before. He's clutching a slip of paper in his other hand. <br \/><br \/>Harry turns to Louis, curious. <br \/><br \/>\"Can I help you?\" Louis asks, fighting the smile threatening to give him premature wrinkles. <br \/><br \/>Niall's laughing, shaking his head. \"You're insane,\" he mutters, reaching across the counter and plopping the hat on Louis's head. \"It's a perfect fit, Cinderella.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis feigns a swoon into an unsuspecting Harry's arms. \"My Prince Charming has come, Haz!\" he cries. <br \/><br \/>Grabbing Louis's arm and tugging him from Harry, Niall practically spreads his whole body across the counter to pull Louis into a laughing kiss. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins into Niall's lips. \"I got sunshine on a cloudy day,\" he sings, off-key. <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs. \"You're the cheesiest.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oi!\" Louis pouts. \"This is supposed to end with a happily ever after, not an insult.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Okay, you're right.\" Niall kisses him again, cupping Louis's cheeks in his hands. \"Is there a bathroom or something? Because I definitely have a happy ending in mind.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis winks and slips out from behind the counter, grabbing Niall's hand and yanking him back to the employee's restroom. <br \/><br \/>When they emerge twenty minutes later, sweaty and disheveled, Harry's dancing around the empty shop with his broom, eyes closed, singing 'Someday My Prince Will Come' as loud as he can. <br \/><br \/>They stand there, fingers laced together, as Harry artfully waltzes the broom into a deep dip, and then leaning down to press a tender kiss to the handle. <br \/><br \/>Louis can see Niall's shoulders starting shake with laughter and he presses his fingers to Niall's lips to keep it inside. <br \/><br \/>He says, \"The loo's free, Haz, if you and your broom need your own happy ending.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry whips around, horrified. His face is bright red. He points a finger at Louis and Niall. \"I will deny this to my grave, Tomlinson.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis just laughs, and Niall turns to him. \"I gotta get back to the shop, but I'll call you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"Glad you found my number, hotshot.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall grins and taps his nose knowingly. \"I'm a little slow on the uptake, but I promise to catch on if you make a breakup mix.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pretends to consider this before saying, \"I tell you what \u2013\u00a0buy me dinner and let's see if we can't figure out a sex mix.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next day, mid-afternoon, Louis is collapsed on the bar next to the espresso machine, staring outside. Ribbons of heat are glimmering above the pavement. Louis thinks he can see men on horseback in the distance, riding towards his Shoreditch coffeeshop. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis gets out somehow. \"Harry?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Mmmngnbgn,\" Harry groans from where he's splayed out on an empty table. \"I need you to water me. All of my fluids are coming out my pores.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis ignores him. \"Harry, I think the Dothraki have come to make me their Khaleesi. I always said I'm destined for glory.\" <br \/><br \/>\"What the fuck,\" Harry says, slowly, painfully, \"are you talking about.\" \u2028<br \/>\"It's my time,\" Louis babbles. \"I am going to reign supreme. I shall be fearless and ruthless, striking fear in the hearts of my enemies and love in the hearts of my people.\" <br \/><br \/>\"It is literally forty degrees in this hellhole, Tomlinson,\" Harry says, closing his eyes. \"I don't have time for you.\" <br \/><br \/>The door scrapes open, then, and Harry has to stand up and pretend he's wiping down the table he was just sweating all over.<br \/><br \/>\"Am I the Chosen?\" Louis shrieks toward the door. \"Have you finally come to take me away? The far off lands have always needed a ruler such as I. I shall be fair, just, and kind to those who support me.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall walks over to the counter and grins. He takes off his snapback and wipes his forehead before shaking his head fondly. \"Get your things, Princess. I'm sweeping you away to frozen yohgurt.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis turns wide eyes to Harry, who's lazily wiping off the table. \"Harold, I think I'm in love.\"<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:16248","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/16248.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=16248"}}],"title":"drawing circles in water (hs\/lt)","published":"2013-05-07T14:53:00Z","updated":"2013-05-07T15:10:52Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: drawing circles in water. <br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~9,200 words.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. it's high school; everything's the end of the goddamn world.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: i decided i wanted to write a high school au and this apparently came out and it's so standard <i>me<\/i>, like, oh, cool, louis has an existential crisis, greta's really deviating from the norm here. hahahaha. oh well!! this is just quick and kinda silly.<br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/>Harry's outside his house when Louis pulls up at 7:48 am. <br \/><br \/>\"Sorry,\" Louis says, leaning over to the passenger seat and throwing shit into the back. \"Car wouldn't bloody start and Lottie needed a ride, blah blah, get in, can't be late!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's laughing as he slides into the seat. He immediately reaches over to the radio and ejects whatever mix cd is in the stereo, pushing in a new one. \"Made this for you last night.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Cheers,\" Louis says and peels off Harry's street. His window is down and his tie is flapping into his face. He bites at it and Harry laughs again, reaching over to tuck it in the pocket of his blazer. <br \/><br \/>\"You're a mess, Lou,\" Harry says as he pulls down the visor to examine his hair in the mirror. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, yeah,\" Louis mutters. \"Can't all be beauty queens like you, can we?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry hums in agreement, pouting ridiculously. Louis rolls his eyes and punches Harry in the thigh. \"You're gorgeous, love, just stop.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a sharp right and Harry grabs onto the oh-shit bar as they screech into the staff car park. \"You do realise this is going to be locked, right?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says, grabbing his bookbag and hastily tucking his shirt in. \"We gotta dash, mate. You have everything?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods and pulls his coat tighter around him. \"I hear there's a pop quiz in maths.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"You would hear that, you swot.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm just warning you!\" Harry protests as he pulls the door open. The halls are swarming and there are two minutes to the bell. Louis makes a face and runs a hand through his hair. <br \/><br \/>\"How do I look?\" he asks Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry snorts. \"A mess.\"<br \/><br \/>Sticking out his tongue, Louis ducks into his English class. \"Cheers. See you at break?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry waves and nods, walking on down the hall to the biology classrooms. Louis watches him for a second, up until Sarah grabs onto Harry's arm and whispers something in his ear that makes him laugh. Louis tightens his lips and walks back to his seat. <br \/><br \/><br \/>Niall's already there, eyes closed with huge headphones on. Louis knocks one ear off as he plops down. \"Hey.\"<br \/><br \/>Cracking an eye, Niall grins. \"Hey, Lou. You look a mess.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Louis says. \"You're all the worst.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs. \"Hey, so, have you started thinking about your birthday yet?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm always thinking about my birthday. Why?\" Louis digs around in his bag for his notebook.<br \/><br \/>\"I was talking to Harry,\" Niall says, \"and his parents said we could have the bungalow for a party? If you're feeling that.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis jerks his head up. \"Really? Harry didn't mention that.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh.\" Niall's face falls. \"Shit. Maybe it was meant to be a surprise? Fuck. Shit. Don't tell him I told you. Shit.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Horan! Language!\" Mr. Simmons booms from the whiteboard at the front of the class. \"And Tomlinson, please excuse yourself to the bathroom and get yourself looking more presentable. You are representing your school whilst in your uniform, I'd thank you to remember.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs but gets up and trudges out the door. Once he gets into the hallway, he lets a small smile out. It's not unusually for Harry to plan something for his birthday \u2013\u00a0they both have a tradition of doing something each year, but throwing a party at his parents' bungalow is a Big Deal. Usually they just pay for dinner and a case of beer or something. <br \/><br \/>He gets to the bathroom and looks in the mirror. Grimacing, he starts running the water to try to get his hair in order. Half of it is sticking straight up and the other half is pressed forward into his face. He is probably a mess. <br \/><br \/>After five minutes of trying to sort himself out, he loses all desire to go back to class. He pulls out his phone and sends a text to Niall: <i>grab my shit after class would you? dont think im makin it back xo<\/i> and then another to Zayn: <i>meet me behind the shed in the back field in five<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Before leaving the bathroom, Louis glances down the hall to make sure it's deserted and dashes to the back entrance. He gets down to the field and sees Zayn leaving the science block. <br \/><br \/>\"Oi!\" he yells. <br \/><br \/>Zayn jumps and looks around rapidly before seeing Louis. He visibly relaxes and half jogs over to him. \"Keep your bloody voice down, you vagrant.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"Hi.\" <br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Zayn says, \"Hey. I assume you need to get through the morning?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis links his arm through Zayn's and leads them across the field behind the equipment shed, out of view from the school. \"You're a saviour. I got kicked out of class for bedhead? I ask you, honestly, what kind of fascist state we live in.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn hums and pulls a rollie from his pocket. \"Spliff okay?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, I've got some of Lottie's smelly shit in my car,\" Louis says, watching Zayn light it. He takes a deep drag and passes it over to Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"Heard about your birthday,\" Zayn says through a mouthful of smoke. <br \/><br \/>Louis arches his eyebrows. \"Yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, at the bungalow? Should be wicked. Think Perrie'll come?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs around his own mouthful of smoke. \"Mate, if you'd just stop being a pussy and asked her out, you'd have a bloody girlfriend. She <i>likes you<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, whatever, Louis,\" Zayn says, looking pissed off. \"We don't all have built-in girlfriends.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis squints over at him and passes the spliff back. \"Come again?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn snorts. \"Little miss Styles?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, fuck off,\" Louis says. \"If we're playing that game, I could bring up you and Niall and your little weird dance.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, yeah, good try,\" Zayn says, taking another hit. \"But seriously, when are you two gonna give it up?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and laughs. \"Sorry to ruin your little fantasy, mate, but I'm pretty sure Harry's talking to Leigh Anne.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn hums. \"Sure, sure.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, piss off. Actually, what do you think of Jade? She's fit, right?\" Louis asks, plucking the roach of the spliff out of Zayn's fingers, taking one last desperate hit. <br \/><br \/>Zayn leans against the shed and is quiet for a moment, looking at Louis. \"Yeah, she's fit...\"<br \/><br \/>\"But?\" Louis prompts.<br \/><br \/>Shaking his head, Zayn says, \"Nah, nothing. Just, you know. Do you like her?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis crosses his arms. \"What do you mean, <i>you know<\/i>? I like her just fine. And that'd be cute, right? We could set Niall up with Jesy. It'd be like the Pink Ladies and the T-Birds.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Christ, Louis,\" Zayn says, snorting out a laugh. \"Niall's after Cher, firstly, and secondly, you don't, like, need to have a girlfriend, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis feels his gaze harden and his jaw clench. \"Say what you wanna say, if you're gonna say it, Zayn.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"Nah, Lou, nothing. Sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says quietly. \"Don't, Zayn.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah. I'm sorry,\" Zayn says back just as quietly. They're quiet for a moment, staring into the trees on the edge of the track. Then, Zayn says, \"Can I ask something, though?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and rubs his hand over his face. \"Christ, Zayn, stop pushing. I'm not gonna give you the answer you think you're looking for.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Zayn whispers. \"Yeah. No, mate, that's cool, I'm sorry. But, like, does Harry know?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck,\" Louis spits. \"There's nothing to fucking <i>know<\/i>, Zayn, and you're being really shitty right now.\" Louis shoves his hands in his pockets and starts cutting across the field to his car. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Zayn whisper-yells after him. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs again and tugs on his blazer, wrapping it around him. \"Give me a few minutes,\" he says back. <br \/><br \/>It's like, he can't really be mad at Zayn, because Zayn would never be anything but quietly understanding, and he can definitely keep a secret, but. It's something Louis never touches. Something about himself he can't bring himself to poke at. Something about the way Harry's hands curl around pencils, or the way Zayn's lips curl around cigarettes, or the way Liam's thighs flex when he's running his bloody marathons \u2013 all the little things Louis notices and immediately forces out of his mind. <br \/><br \/>He's not particularly <i>surprised<\/i> Zayn's noticed, because Zayn's that way. He notices everything. And Zayn would never bring it up around anyone; he'd never embarrass Louis or humiliate him that way. But it's just too close, too much. It's one of those things Louis sort of hopes will go away, but he knows that's ridiculous. He's heard too many stories about shitty politicians and glory holes and public embarrassment and his mum always folds up the paper sadly and says, \"It's so sad people feel the need to deny themselves that way,\" and Louis just stares down at the dinner table. <br \/><br \/>And there's no <i>fear<\/i>, either. He's not afraid of telling his best mates or his mum. It's just. He can't even think the word, much less say it to anyone else. <br \/><br \/>When he reaches his car, he pulls open the perpetually unlocked door and sinks into the driver's seat, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. He digs around in his pocket for the key and shoves it in, waiting for Harry's new cd to start up. As some old Death Cab song pours out of the speakers, Louis allows himself a small smile and a soft laugh. Harry's such a fucking sap. <br \/><br \/>He breathes in and out, calming himself down, and after two minutes of that, a tentative knock raps on the passenger window. Zayn's biting his lip, looking in the car and Louis leans over and opens the door for him. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says. \"Sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>\"No, mate, look,\" Zayn says in a rush. \"I'm really sorry. You're right. I was being so shitty and totally invasive and pushy and there's no excuse. I'm like. So sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs and takes a deep breath. \"It's okay. Just. I mean. Yeah, you know? Yeah. But like. Fuck, Zayn.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn's expression immediately softens. \"Lou.\" <br \/><br \/>A new curl of panic sweeps into Louis's stomach. \"Zayn, please. I can't, like. Do this. Just. Shut up. And. No. Harry doesn't know. Just. Can we not?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, fuck. Of course, Lou. I'd never, ever say anything, you know? I'd never do that to you. I'm so sorry I pushed. I never should have done that and you don't owe anybody anything, you know? I just. I guess I just suspected and I wanted you to know you could talk to me?\" Zayn's fingers are twitching nervously against his thighs and Louis just wants to reach over and still them, but now it'd be weird. <br \/><br \/>He wants to throw up. Of course it'd be weird. Zayn would probably try to fucking let him down easy or something. <br \/><br \/>Oh, fuck. Zayn <i>knows<\/i>. Zayn knows and now every single interaction with him, with any of the boys is going to be tainted with that. Zayn's going to be <i>watching<\/i> him. Louis swallows harshly. <br \/><br \/>\"Zayn,\" he says and his voice fucking breaks. Fuck. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou, god, Lou, no, come on, it's okay,\" Zayn says in a rush, leaning over the center consul and pulling him into a hug. Louis buries his face in Zayn's neck and tries not to breathe him in. He's fucking stoned and having a breakdown about his sexuality in the staff parking lot during first fucking period. Louis has probably never felt lower than this. <br \/><br \/>Louis tries to laugh and it comes out weak, watery. \"I promise I won't ever, like. You know. Try anything. I won't be weird. I promise I won't be weird.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn pulls back and looks stricken. Louis immediately curls into himself and closes his eyes, resting his head on the headrest of his seat. Fuck. It's already weird. <br \/><br \/>\"Sorry,\" Louis whispers. <br \/><br \/>Zayn's hand reaches out and winds his fingers into Louis's. \"Come on, Louis, you know me better than that. I wouldn't think that, and even if you did, shit, Lou, you're fit as fuck. You know that.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis finally turns to look at him, letting out a surprised bark of laughter. \"You little shit,\" he says, blinking fast. <br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles and shakes his head. \"We'd all be swooning from your attention, love.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, fuck off,\" Louis says, relaxing minutely. \"Let's not be late to second period.\" He pulls out Lottie's weird little bottle of body spray and gives his clothes a cursory spurt. He holds it out the Zayn. \"It'll smell like we got laid, at least.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn wrinkles his nose. \"That's a weird thing to say about your little sister's perfume.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis freezes. \"You're fucking disgusting, mate.\" He gets out of the car and spins around into the crisp early December air to get some of the smells off him. <br \/><br \/>Zayn gets out too and leans against the car, staring up at the grey sky. \"Hey, Lou?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Louis says, taking a few steps toward the school and looking back. <br \/><br \/>\"I love you, you know.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis gives Zayn a small smile. \"I love you too. Stop being a huge fucking sap and get your arse to class, Malik.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn grins over at him. \"You look a right mess, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I've fucking heard, cheers.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The rest of the day goes by so slowly for Louis. He stares at the clock and tries to ignore the panic building in his gut, his clammy hands, his restlessness. At the end of maths, the end of the day, Liam eventually kicks him under the table. Louis is blankly staring out the window, but he jerks back and quirks an eyebrow at Liam. <br \/><br \/>\"Yes?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"You okay, mate?\" Liam asks. \"You've been out of it all day.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs and tries to turn his attention to his problem set, but it's useless. He can't make himself care on the best of days, and this is decidedly not the best of days. \"I dunno. Smoked a bit, you know. Bit out of it in general.\" <br \/><br \/>Liam looks concerned, because of course Liam looks fucking concerned. \"Things at home okay? Do you wanna talk about it?\" <br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Louis shakes his head. He's talked out. \"I'm good, thanks, mate. We should all do something after school. Get some food, drive out to the quarry or something. I dunno.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam nods. \"Yeah, sounds good. I think Zayn and I were gonna hang out anyway, so we should get Niall and Harry.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis bites on the end of his pen. \"Yeah,\" he mutters.<br \/><br \/>What happened with Zayn this morning is still slowly hitting him. The thought that Zayn's going to be <i>watching him<\/i> circles through his head. Zayn's going to be examining his interactions with the boys, even moreso now. Louis clenches his teeth and tries to breathe normally. <br \/><br \/>The bell finally, finally, finally goes and Louis breathes out. \"Meet me at the car in a few, yeah?\" he says to Liam as he shoves his papers in his bag and dashes out the door, leaving Liam to pack up everything slowly, meticulously. <br \/><br \/>Harry's already leaning against the car when Louis bursts out of the building. \"How the fuck did you get here so fast?\" Louis asks him as he reaches the car. <br \/><br \/>Shrugging, Harry says, \"I don't have a million teachers trying to <i>have a word<\/i> with me about my lack of attendance, Lou. Things tend to run smoother when, you know, you aren't fighting the man, or whatever.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Okay, princess, whatever you say. Hey, I was talking to Liam and I think we're all gonna grab something to eat and hang out. You in?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip. \"I'm meeting up with Leigh Anne later to study. You think I could be back at my house by six?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, biting down hard on his lip. \"No worries. Leigh Anne, huh?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Don't start,\" Harry says, pointing at Louis, his cheeks turning pink. <br \/><br \/>Louis widens his eyes innocently. \"I didn't say anything! You should ask her about Perrie, though,\" he says, scanning the crowd for Zayn's quiff, standing inches taller than anyone else's hair. <br \/><br \/>He finally spots Zayn with Liam and Niall and waves at them. \"Hurry up, fuckers,\" he yells. <br \/><br \/>Niall bounds over to the car and pulls Louis into a quick hug. \"Simmons was furious when you didn't come back to class, Lou. He told me to tell you that he needs a word with you next time you deign to show up.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"You're such an idiot, Lou,\" he says fondly. <br \/><br \/>Louis huffs out a breath. \"You'd think he'd be glad I didn't come back. It's not like I'm a particularly helpful influence in class.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall snorts. \"For real. I tend to retain more when you bunk off. Anyway! Fish and chips?\" He claps his hands together and looks around at the group. Zayn and Liam nod immediately, but Harry hesitates. <br \/><br \/>Louis notices. \"Haz?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"I just told Leigh Anne we'd get dinner,\" Harry says, shrugging. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says. \"Okay, well. You'll just be the trophy wife or whatever. I'm starved. Let's go.\" He slides into the car and Harry follows. Harry's had shotgun claimed since Louis bought this shitty car; there are no arguments anymore. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances back in the mirror to make sure everyone's in and catches Zayn's eye accidentally. They're big and wide and sympathetic. Louis just shifts the car into gear and screeches out of the car park. This day is so fucked up. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry's the last one Louis drops off and it's a quiet ride. Louis is lost in his head. Zayn was totally normal, totally himself. He didn't flinch when Louis brought up Jade, didn't flinch when Harry said he'd drop a good word with Leigh Anne. Didn't even look up from his chips. <br \/><br \/>But it's weird, now. Now that Louis knows Zayn knows. Now that Louis put this into the universe, everything is so much more <i>real<\/i>. Now everything feels so much more like a <i>lie<\/i> and it's making Louis feel ill. Now that Zayn knows, now that the reality of the situation is cemented in Louis's brain, now there's someone who could potentially call him out, expose him, there's so much more guilt and anxiety. <br \/><br \/>Louis's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou?\" Harry says softly. \"Everything okay?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis chokes out a laugh. \"Yeah, you know.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's eyebrows come together. \"Are you sure? You've been quiet all afternoon.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm fine.\" He smiles at Harry. \"Have fun on your little date, yeah? Let me know how it goes,\" he says, waggling his eyebrows. <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head and laughs. \"You're such a twat. Want me to come over later?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Nah, don't worry about it. Have a good night, really.\" Louis's leg is jiggling. Harry knows something's up and knows he'll needle it, knows Harry worries about him unreasonably. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry says slowly. \"If I come over anyway, will you kick me out?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Yeah. I'll scream till someone calls the police.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles. \"See you later, Lou. I'll ask Leigh Anne about Jade.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says tightly. \"And Perrie. Don't forget. My goal is to get Zayn to stop being a baby about it.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and get out, waving at Louis as he walks up the stairs to his house. Louis lets out a long breath and pulls back into the street. <br \/><br \/>Louis's mum is in the kitchen when Louis walks through the door. \"Hey, babe,\" she says. \"How was your day?\" <br \/><br \/>And, shit. Louis totally thought he was doing fine. He totally thought he was keeping it together. He totally thought it wasn't a big deal, it wasn't gonna be a Thing. He thought maybe he'd feel better, once the enormity of it hit. He thought maybe by now he'd be calm, relieved, even. But now it's all just falling on top of him, because he didn't just come out to Zayn, really. It's bigger than that. It's the first time he's ever really allowed himself to acknowledge that it's something real, something that is permanent. Something that's going to define him, in some way, for the rest of his life. <br \/><br \/>His hands are shaking and all he can say is, \"Mum,\" and he closes his eyes and tries, tries, tries so hard not to cry. <br \/><br \/>His mum has her arms around him in less than a second and she's stroking his back and his hair and tucking him into her. \"Shh, Lou, baby, what is it? Is everything okay?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Mum,\" he chokes out again and yeah, fuck, he's crying now. \"Mum.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" she says, pulling back a little to wipe her thumbs under his eyes. \"Lou, honey, what is this? Talk to me.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and pulls back more, grasping her hands and squeezing once, before sinking into a chair around the table and burying his face in his arms. He hears the screech of another chair being pulled out and feels his mum's fingers back in his hair, carding through it softly. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" she whispers, \"you don't have to tell me anything, but please tell me you're okay. Or that you will be.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep, shuddering breath and raises his head to look into her soft eyes. \"I... yeah. I'm okay. I'm okay.\" <br \/><br \/>His mum bites her lip and nods slowly, eyes dark with concern. \"You can tell me anything, Lou, you know. I'd never judge you or be disappointed with you or. Anything. You could tell me you committed murder and I'd still think you were the best boy in the world.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Mum,\" Louis says, laughing despite himself. \"That's a bit worrisome.\" <br \/><br \/>She smiles at him briefly, before letting her mouth fall back into a tight line of worry. \"Seriously, Louis. Anything. Nothing you could say would make me love you any less.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis looks at her for a moment, studies her expression, the look in her eyes, and his lip starts shaking again. His hands do too. \"Fuck,\" he whispers, and she folds his hands into hers. There's a scary edge of understanding that's come over her face and Louis thinks his throat is closing up. <br \/><br \/>\"You know, don't you,\" he whispers, dropping his eyes to the floor. There's a vaguely pink stain from Lottie's miscellaneous art adventures. There's a deep scratch in the linoleum from the time Louis tried to show his mum his new skateboarding trick. <br \/><br \/>She squeezes his hands tighter. \"Louis,\" she breathes. \"I don't know anything that you haven't told me, honey.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis leans back in his chair, dropping his shoulders and licking his lips. He looks at her again. \"Please don't make me say it,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Her expression crumbles and she pulls him back into her arms, kissing his temple, his hair. \"I'm so proud of you, honey. I'm so proud. I love you so much. I hope you know how absolutely much I love you. You're my whole world,\" she's saying into his ear, the words running together.<br \/><br \/>He draws in a shaky breath, the familiar smell of her hair flooding into his nose. \"I'm scared,\" he says, and then laughs at himself. \"That's so stupid. I'm so stupid. God.\" He pulls back and wipes at his face again. \"God.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Louis, no. No.\" His mum is blinking back her own tears and Louis feels the fish and chips clawing back up his throat. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm so sorry,\" he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" she says firmly. \"No. Never, ever apologise for who you are, Louis. If I can ever teach you anything, I want it to be that.\"<br \/><br \/>Swallowing, Louis nods shortly. \"Yeah,\" he says. He needs to get away from this, from this whole thing. From his life. He needs to get into his bed and sleep this whole shitty day off. <br \/><br \/>His mum is still looking at him with soft worry. \"Did something happen today, Lou?\" she asks, hesitant. <br \/><br \/>Louis licks his lips and looks away. \"Do I have to talk about it?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Of course not, love,\" she says quickly, \"but, Louis, if you ever want to or need to, I can promise you I will always have time for it. Always.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods shakily. <br \/><br \/>\"Now,\" she says, standing up and brushing her hands on her jeans, before leaning over and dropping a kiss onto his hair. \"Do you want something to eat?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says, standing too. \"I think I might, like, nap or something. I don't know. Harry might come over later.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" she says, smiling a little. \"He's so lovely.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Yes, mum. I've heard that you feel that way. Every day, actually.\" <br \/><br \/>She just shakes her head fondly. \"Let him know he always has an adoption offer if he needs it.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You're so weird,\" Louis says. \"I love you.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I love you so much, baby. You go get some rest.\" She kisses him on the cheek again and cups his face in her hands. \"I'm so proud of you.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods a little and walks out of the room, stomach in knots. He wonders when the relief will come. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>There's weird rhythmic tapping on the edge of Louis's subconscious and Louis frowns, rolling over in his bed and blinking awake. The tapping continues. Louis smacks his lips together, pulling a face at the stale sleep in his mouth. The clock is telling him 12:00 over and over again and he sighs, unsure why he even has the damn thing plugged in because he never remembers to reset it when someone blowdries their hair for too long and blows a fuse. <br \/><br \/>He gropes around for his phone with one hand and turns on his lamp with the other. There's a missed call and three texts from Harry. The last one just says, <i>let me in douche<\/i>. Oh, well then. He looks out his window and Harry's standing on the grass at the side of the house with a handful of gravel from the driveway. He mouths a blatant <i>finally<\/i> when he sees Louis look out. <br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Louis points toward the back door and Harry nods, disappearing. Thirty seconds later, his bedroom door is pushed open and Harry stands there, eyebrows raised. \"I take it you napped?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Blarhrhg,\" Louis says. \"I feel like death.\" He falls back onto his bed and scoots over so Harry has room. <br \/><br \/>The bed sinks down a little under Harry's weight and he rolls over to throw his arm around Louis's waist. \"Hi,\" he says quietly. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says back. \"How was your night?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs, jostling Louis. \"Fine, I don't know. I think she likes me.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes at the ceiling. \"No shit,\" he deadpans. <br \/><br \/>Scoffing, Harry rolls back over to lay on his back. \"Whatever.\" <br \/><br \/>\"And you?\" Louis asks. \"Do you like her?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs again. \"I dunno? I definitely like her as a mate, you know? It's weird. Girls, man.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs into his pillow. \"Who knows, really.\" <br \/><br \/>\"But I did ask her about both Jade and Perrie! I think she thinks I was just using her for information. Whoops.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Smooth. And?\" <br \/><br \/>\"And Perrie is definitely into Zayn. Like, no question. I couldn't really get an answer about Jade? She was vague, saying something about some uni guy. Or something. I don't really know? But I'm sure if you turned on the ol' Tomlinson Charm, y'know, you'd be in.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm sure,\" Louis says, snorting. \"Nah, I dunno, I'm not into her. Just had a weird moment today where I thought it'd be cute if us three dated those three. But I'll just hang out with Niall and encourage his ridiculous and hopeless crush on Cher.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, soft. \"Cher-slash-Zayn, you mean?\" <br \/><br \/>\"You think?\" Louis asks, turning to face Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"Wouldn't surprise me.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Is that weird, do you think?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry props himself up on his elbow, looking down at Louis. \"What do you mean? Weird like how?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I dunno.\" Louis plays with a thread on his quilt. \"Just, I mean. Would that be weird if Niall had a crush on Zayn?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Do <i>you<\/i> think it'd be weird?\" Harry asks, brow furrowed. \"I mean, is this about Niall specifically, or...?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No, I mean, like.\" Louis stops and takes a deep breath. He absolutely does not want to do this three times in one day. \"Nah, never mind. I think it'd be cute, like.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says, settling back down. \"Me too. But, like, y'know. Zayn's pretty into Perrie.\" <br \/><br \/>They're quiet for a moment, until Harry takes a deep breath to break the silence and Louis knows what he's gonna ask. He tenses. <br \/><br \/>\"You were off today, Lou,\" Harry says. \"Wanna talk?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says quietly. \"Not tonight.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry lets out a breath and his hand finds Louis's. \"But you're okay?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods and pokes Harry in the side with their joined fingers. \"Yeah. We'll talk later, okay? I'm drained.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry says, grinning at him. \"Can I sleep here?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Duh.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry reaches over and turns off the light and Louis sets his alarm twenty minutes earlier so they can stop off at Harry's for his uniform. <br \/><br \/>\"Love you, Lou,\" Harry says into the darkness. Louis feels him smile against his hair.<br \/><br \/>\"Love you, Haz, you great big sop.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't fall asleep for a long time. He listens to Harry breathe in and out, steady, and feels the heat of his body bleed into the comforter, the mattress. It's too close to the fantasy, Louis thinks. It's too much, too close. The five of them have always joked that he and Harry would end up together someday, because the teasing about soulmates has gone on for too many years. <br \/><br \/>But now Louis is worried, because he's worried that at some point, he started taking the jokes a little more seriously. He can't imagine marrying a girl, and he never really could, and even now, even on this terrifying fucking day of self-actualisation, he can't even put a faceless man in his future. It's always Harry, Harry, Harry. Harry, who's always been there since Louis's mum married his stepdad and they moved to this neighbourhood, and a silly boy with big green eyes and big wild hair biked two streets over to see the new neighbours. Harry, who knows everything \u2013 almost everything, now \u2013 about him. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath and tries to forcibly slow his heartbeat. He needs to tell Harry, because after his mum, there's no one more important than Harry. There's no fear of, like, abandonment or ridicule, or, like, disgust. Harry would never do that. He's more worried Harry will start second-guessing their closeness. He's worried Harry will start pulling away, unnoticeably at first, until their friendship is in name only. Louis can deal with rejection, he thinks \u2013 not that he'd ever tell Harry, like, <i>hey, by the way, I think we might get married<\/i> \u2013 but he doesn't know if he'll be able to swallow a slow freeze out. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The week goes by easily. Harry doesn't push anything, except to give Louis a few thoughtful glances, and Zayn sneaks out with him more often for clandestine smokes. <br \/><br \/>\"How're you doing?\" Zayn asks one afternoon as they cut their afternoon class \u2013 biology for Louis, maths for Zayn. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Fine. Better. You know.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn hums around his cigarette. Louis isn't even smoking today, he just needed a break. He's been needing a lot of breaks lately. He doesn't think about it too closely. <br \/><br \/>\"I told my mum,\" he adds. <br \/><br \/>Zayn raises his eyebrows. \"Yeah? How'd it go?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Fine, you know.\" Louis smiles a little. \"She's wonderful. <br \/><br \/>\"She is,\" Zayn says. \"You gonna tell H?\" <br \/><br \/>Sighing, Louis nods, leaning back against the shed. \"I need to. He knows something's up.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, he's asked me.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis looks over at him. \"Yeah? What'd you say?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Eh.\" Zayn shrugs. \"I said I didn't know.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Thanks,\" Louis says quietly. <br \/><br \/>\"Course. Wouldn't look good for me to know first, I think,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"You're an angel, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Tell him soon, though. He's worried, like. You know how he gets.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"Just... you know. Waiting for a moment, I guess.\" <br \/><br \/>The moment inevitably comes, because Harry is the champion of creating <i>moments<\/i>. He slides into Louis's car at the end of the day and slips in a new cd. Looking at Louis, he says, \"Let's go to the river.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods and pulls into the street, smirking when the Cure starts playing. \"Cliche, Haz. You made a soundtrack for our talk. I loathe you.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Lies.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Eh.\"<br \/><br \/>They get to the river too soon for Louis's taste and he pulls up onto the bank, putting his shitty little car in park and taking a deep breath. <br \/><br \/>Harry's staring at him intently and Louis cringes away from it. \"Stop that.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry says, and deliberately turns to face the windscreen. \"Is it family stuff? Is your mum okay? Is there anything I can do?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh, no, she's fine. That's all fine. This is so stupid and awkward, like, I don't know. Very One Tree Hill, if you will.\" Louis makes a face.<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Perfect for you, then. What's up, Lou? Is it terminal? Have I got to write a eulogy?\" Harry nudges at Louis's arm. \"C'mon.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis's leg starts jiggling again. \"I don't know how I'm supposed to do this.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry gets serious again. \"You can tell me anything, Louis.\" <br \/><br \/>The frequency of that fucking statement is starting to grate, honestly. Louis takes a deep breath. \"You know how I asked if it'd be weird if Niall liked Zayn?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry freezes. \"Yeah...\" he says slowly. <br \/><br \/>\"I... that wasn't really about Niall, you know?\" Louis taps out a frantic rhythm on the dashboard, unable to stop moving. <br \/><br \/>Shifting back into the seat, Harry pulls his leg under him and turns his earnest, big eyes on Louis. \"D-do <i>you<\/i> have a crush on Zayn?\" he asks, hesitant. <br \/><br \/>Louis licks his lips. \"No. But. It wouldn't be out of the question?\" he says, finally peeking over at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry's face is wide open, all serious and genuine care. \"You mean, like, you could like Zayn as well as, like, I dunno, Jade? Or you could like Zayn, like, exclusively?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis huffs out an almost-laugh and reaches up to tug at his stupid fringe. \"Um. These are really stupid examples, but I'll go with it. I think, like. I think I could only like Zayn. Um. Exclusively.\" <br \/><br \/>There's a brief silence and Louis's internal organs have somehow learnt the fucking jitterbug. He says, too loud, \"But I do want to clarify that I <i>don't<\/i> like Zayn.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little, but Louis can't look over at him again. He's at a complete and total loss for what to do. He keeps moving, tapping his fingers and jiggling his feet and licking his lips and darting his eyes out the window, following the ripples of the river. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry says, finally. \"Louis, look at me.\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says in a quiet voice. <br \/><br \/>\"You arsehole,\" Harry says, fond. \"Look at me, god.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis glances over at Harry from the corner of his eye, but doesn't turn his head. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh my god,\" Harry says, and leans over to grab Louis's face. He holds his cheeks in his big hands and turns Louis's head to meet Harry's eyes. \"Louis Tomlinson. I think you're the greatest boy in the world, yeah? You're the best friend I could ever conceivably have. Calm the fuck down.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis huffs out a short laugh. \"Sorry, mate. Sorry. It's just. You know. Big. For me. Sorry. I'm being stupid.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry says, expression going serious again. He doesn't let go of Louis's face. \"Hey, no, none of that. It's very big and it's scary and you're amazing, yeah? It's not stupid; you're not stupid. Shut up with that.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles a little, wrinkling his nose. \"You sound like my mum.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry leans back into his seat, letting go of Louis. He grins, proud. \"Your mum is the best lady on earth, after my own mum, of course. I'm honoured by the comparison.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"She wants to adopt you, you know.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Harry says, laughing. \"She's told me about twenty times.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ugh. She likes you more than me.\" Louis is still shaky, but he feels like he's sliding back into himself.<br \/><br \/>\"Well, most people do, Lou,\" Harry says. \"Most people do.\" <br \/><br \/>Shaking his head, Louis says, \"Twat,\" and it comes out fond. <br \/><br \/>The drive back to their neighbourhood is quiet in a different way than it has been lately. It's calm and understanding, settled. Louis thinks he's maybe feeling that so-called sense of relief, finally. <br \/><br \/>When he pulls up to Harry's house, Harry turns to him and says, \"I love you, Lou. Everything's fine, you know. With us, and all.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis quirks a little smile and nods. \"Good.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry agrees. \"And, hey, don't make plans for the weekend of your birthday, got it? Can't say anything more, but just hold onto it for me, okay?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis winks. \"Got it, Columbo.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and taps his nose. \"See you later.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The weekend of his birthday comes quicker than Louis expected. The end of term flies by, mostly because Louis isn't too fussed with exams. Harry, though, gets in the car every morning with dark circles under his eyes, messy hair, and bitten nails. <br \/><br \/>He says, every morning, \"You should really try to care, Louis.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis just sighs. \"Harry, darling, you're the breadwinner of this relationship. I'm just here for the comic relief.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry always shakes his head, but laughs a little. \"You underestimate yourself.\" <br \/><br \/>\"No, mate,\" Louis says back. \"You <i>misunderestimate<\/i> me.\" <br \/><br \/>Everything is the same. <br \/><br \/>It's Friday, the 23rd, when they sit their last exam. Louis flies through the math test, doodling in the margins when he comes to questions he doesn't quite understand, and sloppily scribbling masses of numbers to get points for trying. <br \/><br \/>When time is finally called, he falls into Liam's arms, yelling, \"Freedom, free at last, viva la revolucion!\"<br \/><br \/>Liam glances around the classroom, mouthing apologies at all the annoyed glares Louis is immune to. <br \/><br \/>\"C'mon, Li,\" Louis yells, tugging on Liam's jacket. \"We need to get out of here, we have big plans, come on!\" <br \/><br \/>He dashes down the hallway, grabbing Niall away from Cher and pulling Zayn away from Perrie. \"We have <i>plans<\/i>, lads!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's already by the car, something Louis's gotten used to. \"Harry!\" Louis cries, tackling him into a hug. \"We're done! We're done for two whole weeks!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and hugs him back. \"We're done until your mum gets your results and grounds you till you're dead, yeah, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sticks out his tongue. \"Hello, <i>raincloud<\/i>, wow, are you quite finished?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, yeah,\" Harry says. \"Take us to the bungalow, chauffeur!\"<br \/><br \/>Widening his eyes into his best shocked expression, Louis says, \"The bungalow? Whatever for?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn and Niall roll their eyes. \"He knows I let it slip, Lou,\" Niall says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh.\" Louis pouts. \"Party poopers. Literally.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head. \"Everyone's coming around 8 or so, which gives us a few hours of steady drinking time to prepare. And we have to give you our presents, duh.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Pressies!\" Louis yells. He yanks open the door and jumps behind the wheel. \"Get in, losers!\" <br \/><br \/>The bungalow has a rather pathetic looking HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOUIS sign hanging over the front door and some hastily blown-up balloons scattered over the floor. \"Lads,\" Louis says fondly.<br \/><br \/>Harry ducks his head. \"Couldn't find a helium machine, sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis throws his arm around Harry's shoulders and messes up his hair. \"I love you guys.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall laughs. \"You're in a good mood.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis bounds over to him. \"It's my birthday!\" he yells and squeezes Niall into a tight hug. \"Where is the beer!? Bring me beer, slavey-boys!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry says. \"We have a keg for the party. I was thinking like two pounds a cup? And then I have some cases of Stella for us.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Perfect!\" Louis says and settles onto the couch. He holds out his hand expectantly. <br \/><br \/>Zayn shakes his head. \"You're insufferable even when it's <i>not<\/i> your birthday, Lou.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Please,\" Louis scoffs. \"I'm a treasure.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry comes back into the living room, clutching five beers in his massive hands. Louis smiles up at him and opens his mouth. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm <i>not<\/i> going to feed you beer, Lou,\" Harry says, settling down next to him and passing him one. \"But I will open it for you.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Cheers,\" Louis says, grinning. \"Now, I believe I heard a rumour about presents?\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>By 11pm, Louis is trashed. Louis is shitfaced. He walks through the house, bumping into people whilst simultaneously marveling at the sheer number of people who showed up. <br \/><br \/>\"It's my birthday,\" he slurs to a girl he vaguely recognises from English. <br \/><br \/>\"It's my birthday,\" he slurs to a boy on the second string football team. <br \/><br \/>He manages to find Zayn, finally, and leans into him. \"It's my birthday,\" he slurs into Zayn's ear. There's heavy music pounding through the house and every corner is filled with people, spilling out onto the back patio and the front lawn. \"It's my birthday.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I know, mate,\" Zayn yells back, steadying Louis with hands on his waist. \"I know! Are you having a good time?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods, enthusiastic. \"The best. You guys are the best. The best friends for li'l ol' me. The very, very best.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles at him and glances over Louis's shoulder before pushing him gently into someone else's grasp. \"I'm gonna grab something to drink, okay, Lou?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods, and turns around to the person who's holding him up from behind. It's Harry. Of course it's Harry. He grins up at him and pushes his stupid curls out of his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Hazza!\" he says. \"You're my very best mate, and I love you very, very, veryvery much.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"I love you too, Lou! How're you doing? Need any water?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, but has to stop. \"I'm dizzy, Haz,\" he says, tipping his head to the join of Harry's shoulders and neck. It smells nice there. Louis bites down a little.<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry says, chuckling. \"Let's take a bit of a breather, hey.\" He keeps his hands tight on Louis's waist and starts walking them to the front door, pulling Louis closer to squeeze through all the people. <br \/><br \/>The cold December air hits Louis, jolting him a little more awake. \"'s chilly,\" he says, tucking closer to Harry. <br \/><br \/>\"I know, babe,\" Harry responds, letting Louis burrow in a little bit more. \"You doing good?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"We should... sit,\" he suggests. Harry leads them over to the garden wall, out of view from the house, and pulls Louis to sit down next to him. <br \/><br \/>Louis curls back into Harry's warmth as soon as he's done squirming around on the wall, getting comfortable. \"You're the very best,\" he mutters into Harry's neck. \"Dunno where I'd be without you, y'know?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's hand is stroking up and down his back, soothing. \"Likewise, Lou. I'm glad you're having a good time.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis hums and tilts his head back to stare up at the clear sky. \"Harry,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Harry answers, quietly. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry, Harry, Harry,\" Louis sings, tasting the word in his mouth. \"Harry, do you ever think about the future?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry goes quiet for a moment, thoughtful. \"Yeah. Sometimes, I guess. Why?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I dunno.\" Louis shrugs. \"I do. A lot. It freaks me out.\" <br \/><br \/>Chuckling, Harry leans over slightly to rest his head on top of Louis's. \"Why's it freak you out?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I dunno.\" Louis's head is spinning. The world is spinning really fast. \"'s weird, I guess. I keep thinking we're gonna get married.\" Louis laughs. He waits for Harry to start laughing. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't. <br \/><br \/>Louis stops laughing. <br \/><br \/>Harry's gone tense beside him and Louis's world is still spinning, but now it's like a tilt-a-whirl, off-axis and terrifying. <br \/><br \/>\"You do?\" Harry asks quietly. <br \/><br \/>Louis furrows his brow and tries to remember what he said. He knows it was big. \"Wait,\" he says, reaching out to steady himself. His fingers dig into the warmth of Harry's thigh. \"Wait,\" he says again. \"I don't remember what I just said. Did I just tell you I'm in love with you?\" He laughs. \"Fuck. Oh, fuck.\" He tries to climb off the wall, but Harry holds him in place.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou, hold it, Lou, just sit down.\" Harry's keeping him close and Louis blinks rapidly, trying to slow his world down. <br \/><br \/>\"Spinning,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"I know, love. Do you need a lie-down?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No!\" Louis says. \"It's my birthday. Lovely Harry threw me a lovely birthday party. Lovely lovely.\" He finds Harry's face with his hand and strokes down his cheek. His thumb catches on Harry's bottom lip and it stays there for a moment, pressing in. <br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes close, briefly. \"Lou,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>\"Sorry,\" Louis whispers back, staring at Harry's lips. \"Sorry, sorry sorry sorrysorry. It's my birthday,\" he says, and he leans in, catching Harry's bottom lip between his own lips. His eyes flutter closed and he presses against Harry, his hands dropping to Harry's sides, holding him close. <br \/><br \/>He keeps kissing Harry until reality finds him, finally, and he realises Harry's not kissing him back. \"Oh,\" he says, pulling back. \"Oh, god. Oh, god, I'm so sorry.\" He shrinks back from Harry's warmth. \"Oh my god.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis, wait,\" Harry says, but Louis drops off the wall, suddenly much more sober.<br \/><br \/>He needs to throw up. He needs to throw up, like, now.<br \/><br \/>\"I'll... see you inside, Harry. Oh god. I'm sorry.\" Louis sees a wheelie bin tucked by the garage and focuses on it, uses it as a point of reference for his feet. He concentrates on one foot in front of the other and maybe he's not walking in a straight line, but he gets to the bin eventually and fumbles it open. He retches until there's nothing left in his stomach. <br \/><br \/>By the time he's feeling human enough to go back inside, he glances back to the garden wall, just to see. <br \/><br \/>Harry's gone. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>As soon as Louis opens his eyes in the morning, he's greeted to a rendition of STOMP in his brain and the taste of cat-vomit in his mouth. He's starfished on the huge couch in the living room of the bungalow, half on top of Niall. The horrible, bright winter sun is pouring through the open blinds and the entire room smells of beer. <br \/><br \/>Louis's stomach lurches as he sits up. He steadies himself tentatively. It takes him three tries to stand up. He finally makes it into the bathroom and he groans at his reflection. Digging around for an unused toothbrush, he tries to piss and brush at the same time, before realising that multitasking is absolutely out of the question this morning. He groans again when he rinses his mouth and gags when a whiff of beer floats up from his shirt. <br \/><br \/>Fumbling around with the shower, he eventually turns it all the way to hot and sits down on the floor, letting the water pound down over him. He leans his head on the cool tile. <br \/><br \/>\"I think I'm dying,\" he says into the echo chamber of the shower. <br \/><br \/>Last night comes back to him in bits and pieces. Perrie and Zayn making out against the fridge. A kegstand \u2013 god, really? Louis is a champion. A few bowls of weed being passed around. Everyone in their year \u2013 and a few not in their year \u2013 crammed into Harry's bungalow. <br \/><br \/>Harry. Oh. Louis remembers stumbling outside with Harry. He said some things, he's sure he did. Oh. Oh, no. Louis kissing Harry. Harry not kissing Louis. <br \/><br \/>It's hazy. It's vague enough Louis can definitely pretend he doesn't remember. Can definitely say he blacked out before any of that. He's not responsible. <br \/><br \/>Louis can definitely say it never happened. Can definitely laugh it off. <br \/><br \/>Now, though, he pulls his knees up to his chest and closes his eyes, resting his forehead on his kneecaps. Fuck. <br \/><br \/>Eventually, he pulls himself out of the shower and wraps himself in a towel, kicking his dirty clothes to the side. He tiptoes through the silent house to Harry's room. No one's in the bed, and Louis drops his towel and digs through the dresser for some jimjams and a jumper. <br \/><br \/>Just as he's pulling the jumper over his head, the door creaks open behind him. He jumps a kilometre into the air and squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of nausea.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, sorry,\" comes Harry's raspy whisper. \"Hi, love. How are you feeling?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows before turning around. \"I've been better,\" he says, forcing a half smile. He can't quite meet Harry's eyes. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Um. I've made some toast?\" he says, holding it out. \"Have a piece. You should eat something.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I think I'd maybe rather die?\" Louis offers back. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says, and tries to chuckle. \"Hey, um. Can we talk?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rubs his hand over his face. \"We really don't have to.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. \"I'd like to, though? If that's okay? I started up a fire outside on the patio. Let's go out there.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, okay,\" Louis says, resigned. He trudges after Harry and tucks himself into a big lawnchair, scooting it close to the fire. He pulls his legs up so he can wrap his arms around himself. \"What's up, Haz?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's sitting on the chair closest to Louis and Louis can feel his eyes, his gaze, examining him. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes against it. <br \/><br \/>\"I wanted to maybe talk about last night? Um. If you remember?\" <br \/><br \/>And here it is. Louis opens his mouth to deny, deny, deny, but in the end, he realises, it's all futile. Harry's gonna know, regardless of whether or not Louis remembers. Harry will remember everything, and that's too much for Louis to live with. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, Harry,\" Louis says quietly. <br \/><br \/>Harry lets out a breath, and Louis thinks he's maybe surprised by Louis's admission. <br \/><br \/>Louis jumps in before Harry can say anything, \"Harry, look. I don't need to be, like, let down easy, you know? It's not, like, a big deal or anything. I was never meant to tell you that stuff. And I shouldn't have done. I never wanted to put you in that position. <i>This<\/i> position. It was really shitty of drunk-me and I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel, like, guilty.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's quiet for a moment. \"Lou,\" he says. Louis just stares into the fire. <br \/><br \/>\"I'd really appreciate it if you'd let it lie, Harry.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Harry says firmly. \"Listen. You were <i>drunk<\/i>. You were borderline blackout. I couldn't, like. God, come on. You told me you wanted to marry me. You told me you're in love with me. You <i>kissed<\/i> me.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis screws his eyes closed and digs his fingernails into his palms. \"Harry, please,\" he whispers. He's so fucking humiliated. <br \/><br \/>\"No, Lou, just. You've always been it for me. And I couldn't take that \u2013 I couldn't <i>accept<\/i> that from you when you were trashed. I couldn't deal with getting everything with the chance you'd laugh it off in the morning. You know?\" Harry's voice is breaking, desperate.<br \/><br \/>Louis is holding his breath so hard there are stars behind his eyes. \"What?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry lets out a rough laugh and runs his fingers through his hair. \"I just. When you told me that you, y'know, liked boys or whatever, all I wanted to do was scream <i>me too me too me too<\/i> and hold your hand and kiss you all over, but I couldn't steal your thunder. I know how hard that was for you, you know? And I didn't wanna trivialise that by being all, like, <i>hey, I could like Zayn too<\/i> or whatever. But, god, Louis.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows. \"What,\" he barely gets out in a whisper.<br \/><br \/>\"Since I was ten, Lou,\" Harry says. He slides off the chair and sits on the concrete in front of Louis, hands coming up to wrap around Louis's. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks down at him, hard; once, twice, three times. \"Harry.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry gently loosens Louis's hands from where they're twisted together and wraps them up in his own, his huge hands covering all of Louis's, overlapping. \"Can I kiss you for real?\" he asks, all wide green eyes. <br \/><br \/>Louis is not sure he's breathing, but somehow he lets out a shaky sigh. He nods, unable to think of a single word to express how much that would mean to him. <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles at him, but it's small, scared. Louis can't bear that. He tightens his hands into Harry's, tugging him up to sit on the chair with him. \"Haz,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Harry's smile becomes a little more sure. \"Lou,\" he says back, and leans in, brushing his lips against Louis's. Louis opens his mouth slightly and frees his hands to slide one into Harry's hair, guiding their lips together firmly. <br \/><br \/>Harry's hands flit all over, cupping Louis's cheeks, down to his neck, thumbing at Louis's collarbones, then over his shoulders, feeling him out. Eventually one combs through Louis's hair and the other covers the small of his back, and Harry gently guides him down to lay back into the chair, and drapes his own long body half on top of Louis's. <br \/><br \/>Letting out a soft sigh, Louis lets himself relax, lets Harry smile against his lips, and lets himself smile back. <br \/><br \/>When Harry pulls back for a breath, Louis pushes Harry's fringe out of his face and grins up at him. \"Does this mean you wanna get married?\" he asks, teasing. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, quiet and intimate. \"I could probably do the Tomlinson name proud,\" he says back. <br \/><br \/>Louis tucks his smile into Harry's neck. \"I think so, yeah.\" <br \/><br \/>The sound of the sliding glass door scratches through their little bubble and they both jerk up, looking back at the house. Zayn stands there, shirtless, scratching at his belly, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuckin' finally,\" he rasps. <br \/><br \/>*<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:15976","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15976.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=15976"}}],"title":"like a simile, i paint suggestive pictures (of me and you) (hs\/lt)","published":"2013-04-24T00:11:20Z","updated":"2013-04-24T00:17:07Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: like a simile, i paint suggestive pictures (of me and you)<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~15,000<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. louis is a TA for an english 101 class and harry is stupid gorgeous which of course leads to a morality crisis.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: ugh so i was writing sadfic and then i realised that if i\u2019m going to contribute to breaking this fic-drought i probably shouldn\u2019t contribute with the most depressing shit in the world. so then this came out. and ended up longer than i meant it to. umm. it takes place at an Unnamed American University, but really it\u2019s based on the university of montana, but like. whatever that\u2019s really unimportant. thanks and love to everyone who has to put up with me, because i am motherfucking intolerable when i write.<br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/>It's not that Louis specifically <i>hates<\/i> discussion sections, it's more that <i>everyone on earth<\/i> hates discussion sections. The problem lies within the way each individual handles and projects their hatred that breaks down what could be a moment of beautiful solidarity. There's the silent majority \u2013 the ones who race for the row at the back of the classroom and huddle over their laptops, very clearly biding their time until the hour hits. There's the rare minority \u2013 the ones who hide their resentment well and do what they can to further discussion, who ask insightful questions, who pretend to care. Louis, in turn, pretends they aren't sucking up for the grade. And then there's the vocal minority \u2013 the group of students who sit very deliberately in the front row, who project their opinions and analyses and very Deep, Subversive, and Unique thoughts and then sink back into their chairs with a look of impressive self-satisfaction, as if the heavens have opened and sprayed the surrounding lesser mortals with a comeshot of Intellect.<br \/><br \/>His section is the end of the alphabet; a sixth of the full lecture capacity. The S's to the Z's. Twenty five first year students who chose to take Introduction to Literature. Four years later and Louis pities them already.<br \/><br \/>But whatever. He has a bagel with what could possibly considered too much cream cheese and a massive thermos of tea and no set lesson plans aside from standard name and favourite author bullshit. There's no need to fully alienate twenty five eighteen year olds before strictly necessary. Louis knows he's a dick; they don't need to know that until later.<br \/><br \/>The classroom is empty when he arrives, ten minutes before class begins. It's one of the shitty classrooms, stuffed in the annexes of the art building, fit for neither man nor beast. There's a quaint spread of black mould surrounding the windows, which do not fully close. The facsimile of hardwood covering the floor is peeling laminate. The chalkboard has a permanent dick drawn on it, pointing towards Louis's desk. The dick is ejaculating exactly over where his head would be, should he choose to sit. So. Auspicious beginning.<br \/><br \/>There's a scuffling by the door, and Louis snaps out of his standard <i>woe woe woe desolation woe woe<\/i> brainspace, glancing over. A boy \u2013 young, nervous looking, and unfortunately <i>absolutely fucking gorgeous<\/i> \u2013 is standing there. \"Is this, um, are you Louis? Discussion section, um?\"<br \/><br \/>And oh, well, bend Louis over and shove cucumbers up his arsehole, because this beautiful thing is British. Louis swallows and flicks his fringe off his forehead, smiling brightly at the boy after a brief pause. \"Yes! Glad you found it alright. I'm pretty sure this classroom is not on any official map, actually. Maybe directly underneath the <i>here there be monsters<\/i> disclaimer, but, yes! Welcome.\"<br \/><br \/>The boy blinks, smiles. \"Brilliant, cheers. Where are you from? Unless you're mocking me.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"I'd have become an actor if I could mock you this well, mate. I'm from Yorkshire. You?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Cheshire,\" the boys drawls, shaking his stupid curly fringe into his eyes and then flipping it back out, giving him a ridiculous pompadour until gravity flops it right back where it was. Louis bites back a smile.<br \/><br \/>\"Excellent. Except not, because I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to have favourites. Especially before I've met anyone else. What's your name?\" Louis asks, because he's fairly certain calling this boy Stupid Pretty for the rest of the semester would lead to a breakdown in the TA-student relationship. Or something.<br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" he says, biting his stupid red lip and smiling with stupid white teeth and stupid green eyes.<br \/><br \/>Stupid Pretty Harry, then.<br \/><br \/>Or maybe just Stupid Predator Louis.<br \/><br \/>Louis grins back, and like. Well, just, like. Shit. Shit, because Harry's clearly a huge fucking flirt with his stupid self, and Louis does not do well with being flirted with by Stupid Pretty Boys without turning into Stupid Flirty Louis and when Stupid Flirty Louis is combined with Stupid Predator Louis, there is really only one outcome and that is clearly Stupid Unemployed and Disgraced Louis.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm Louis,\" he says back.<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles.<br \/><br \/>Louis sits right under the ejaculating penis because he is teaching a literature discussion section and he is nothing if not well-versed on the art of the metaphor.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Niall is sitting at the kitchen table when Louis gets home. Niall has three tacos in front of him and his guitar is propped up on the chair across the table, a separate plate of tacos in front of it. Louis pauses.<br \/><br \/>There's a slight possibility that the guitar's tacos are meant for Louis. There is a bigger possibility Niall did actually buy his guitar tacos, solely so once he finished his own he could politely ask his guitar to share the tacos and his guitar will be more likely to say yes than Louis.<br \/><br \/>\"I am going to stress-eat those tacos, Niall, and I will not hear a word otherwise.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall looks up and blinks at Louis for a moment, before smiling around a mouthful of beef. \"Louis!\" he yells.<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him. He is well-versed in Niall's distraction tactics. Distractics. \"I am going to stress-eat those tacos, Niall,\" he says again.<br \/><br \/>Niall looks over across the table and a look of deep conflict passes over his face, eventually clearing with a sigh. \"Okay, Louis. I love you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I love you too, man. How was your day?\"<br \/><br \/>Niall's in his last year of a music something something degree. Engineering? Is music engineering a thing? Louis is not sure but he's pretended valiantly for three years, so he's very adept at it by now.<br \/><br \/>\"Good! Good. I decided to take a geology class. It seems cool!\" Niall is still talking around tacos. Louis pulls a face and sinks into the chair next to the guitar. He looks at it, hopefully with enough of an apology in his eyes so Niall won't get offended on its behalf, and slides the plate of tacos in front of him.<br \/><br \/>\"Geology? What? Like, you decided in your last year to take, like, Geology 101?\" Louis takes a huge bite of the taco and winces at the actual <i>three gallons<\/i> of hot sauce the guitar apparently prefers.<br \/><br \/>Niall nods, excited. \"Yeah, like, apparently if you take more than twelve credits, it's all the same price? So I had extra room for another three credit class and, like, I dunno. I remembered that I like to drop rocks into the swimming pool because the splash was cool, so. Geology!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis tilts his head. \"That is physics. The splash is physics.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Niall says pityingly. \"Louis, Louis, Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis waits.<br \/><br \/>\"Louis, you can't even tell the difference between a stalactite and stalagmite. Forgive me if I do not take you seriously.\"<br \/><br \/>Chewing thoughtfully, Louis regards Niall. \"I think I want to fuck an eighteen year old,\" he says, after he swallows.<br \/><br \/>Niall nods slowly. \"I hope you realise that the dean will probably take you more seriously than I do.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis leans back in his chair, sighing at the ceiling. Which, inexplicably, has a picture of Zac Efron taped to it. Louis stares at that instead. Zac Efron is over eighteen and also not in his discussion section. Zac Efron is safe.<br \/><br \/>\"It's not like he's twelve,\" Louis tries.<br \/><br \/>Niall gags. \"Don't,\" he says, pointing a finger at Louis. The finger has a string of carne asada hanging off it. Louis pulls a face.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm just saying. I could be worse!\"<br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Niall says, \"Yes, Louis, if that reassurance gets you through the night, go for it. I assume this kid is in your class?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, sighing. He rubs a hand over his face. \"He's British and, like, unnaturally pretty. Like... He's got this hair. And these eyes. And this <i>mouth<\/i>, christ.\" Louis turns pleading eyes across the table. \"Niall.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall shrugs. \"Good thing you're so well-versed at pining, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flinches. \"Wow.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I mean, living with me must leave you with perpetual blue-balls. I'm not jealous. My manly essence exudes in waves. I am so impressed you haven't cracked by now, I mean, like. I walk around in me pants, don't I? Most of the time I can't keep my own hands off myself.\" Punctuating this with a loud burp, Niall gets up and pulls out two beers from the fridge. He places the extra one in front of the guitar.<br \/><br \/>Louis says, \"Bend me over this table right now, you stallion, my will has crumbled.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall nods. \"I saw this day coming years ago.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>There's this coffee shop in the center of this college town that serves relatively cheap specialty coffees and their espresso machine only pulls double-shots and the interior decor reminds Louis of when his twin baby sisters took every puzzle in the house and dumped them into one box. And then tried to solve it.<br \/><br \/>Garage-sale chic is possibly the term, but Louis thinks that tacking <i>chic<\/i> on the end of anything creates a romanticised image of garbage that is rather unnecessary. Niall could order a pizza, unsupervised, and defend it as <i>anchovy-chic<\/i>. That's not a thing. That will never be a thing.<br \/><br \/>Louis's favourite drink involves about sixteen squirts of chocolate sauce, four shots of espresso, some marshmallow flavouring, and possibly the tears of kittens. He'x compare it to an orgasm in his mouth, but that usually collapses around the reality that orgasms in his mouth tend to not involve chocolate, marshmallow, or espresso.<br \/><br \/>He has maybe had too much caffeine. He has some pseudo-grading to do \u2013 really just writing a little welcome message on the bottom of the <i>what is your literature experience thus far<\/i> cop-out paper he'd assigned \u2013 and he has a growing stack of novels to read and he wants to write something.<br \/><br \/>He has very grand aspirations for this coffee shop, but it's rarely failed him before.<br \/><br \/>Curling up in his usual chair by the window, he balances his mug on the arm and pulls out the stack of papers. He very deliberately does not flip through them to find Harry Styles'. Except that he totally does and he totally hates himself.<br \/><br \/>It takes him an hour to get through the essays, and after the sixth variation on his <i>This is great to hear, [insert name]! I'm excited to work with you this semester! Please let me know if you ever need any help with [insert listed weakness]! - Louis<\/i> theme, he starts recycling them. Stock phrases are great. Louis just hopes no one knows each other well enough to compare. Except, of course, Harry's essay was witty and self-deprecating and eloquent and Louis had to actively resist adding his fucking phone number to the bottom of the page, underneath a series of hearts and xoxo's.<br \/><br \/>\"Louis?\" comes a stupid, slow drawl from somewhere above his head. Louis looks up and oh. Yep. Yep, Louis actually must have been Jack the Ripper in his last life because Harry Styles is smiling down at him, all windblown hair and reddened cheeks and... well.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles, because he can't <i>not<\/i> smile at this boy in front of him. \"Harry! I just read your paper. You're a good writer!\" Inane, inane, inane, death, death, woe, woe.<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little. \"Thanks! Are you waiting for someone?\" he asks, eyes straying to the chair next to Louis.<br \/><br \/>Death, death, woe, woe, here be monsters, woe, death, shut it down.<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says back, gesturing at the empty chair. \"Help yourself. I recommend ordering something very caffeinated and very sugary, though. It's really the specialty here.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry winks \u2013 he actually fucking <i>winks<\/i> and goodbye, world, Louis is Sylvia Plath-ing himself as soon as he gets home \u2013 and drops his bag on the chair before going up to the counter.<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls out his phone, sending a text to Niall. <i>red alert red alert SOS SOS SOS jailbait jailbait woe woe do you even realise what would happen to me in jail NIALL!!!!!<\/i><br \/><br \/>Harry comes back with a steaming mug of Louis's dignity and settles himself in. \"So, Louis,\" he starts, and Louis's phone goes <i>IT'S LIKE 151 RUM PINEAPPLE JUICE AND MALIBU CARIBOU GET THEM ALL NUMB MAKE BABYGIRL COME<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Harry jumps and looks entirely too much like a startled baby deer for Louis to handle. \"Sorry,\" Louis says. \"I like to express myself.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry chokes on a mouthful of whatever he's drinking, coughing and laughing in equal amounts and it's cute and endearing and Louis just smiles at him for a moment before checking his texts.<br \/><br \/><i>lou i learnt some valuble advice in geogley today....... uve got a gr8 booty<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis makes a low noise in his throat and drops his phone on the floor, glaring at it. Everyone betrays him.<br \/><br \/>\"Everything alright?\" Harry asks, eyebrows coming together, concerned.<br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says, \"listen to grandad's advice, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods, rolling his lips into his mouth to hide the smile Louis can clearly see in his eyes.<br \/><br \/>\"Do not trust anyone. Never confide in anyone. Everyone will always like their guitars more than they like you. They will buy their guitars tacos and beer and you will be left, naked and alone, shivering in a gutter like you are caught in the middle of revolutionary France.\" Louis stares at Harry intently, seriously, and taps the side of his nose.<br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" Harry intones, nodding again. \"Wisdom does come with age.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes. When you are as old and decrepit as I am, young Harold, you will understand. The world does not love you and we are all going to die anyway.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry glances around the coffeeshop, taking in the myriad array of empty seats. \"I am overwhelmingly glad I chose to sit with Doctor Death, Louis, thank you.\"<br \/><br \/>Scoffing, Louis fixes his fringe and levels Harry with a look. \"I'm just trying to protect you.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles at him, a small, secret, closed-mouth smile, and his eyes are shining. \"Of course you are.\"<br \/><br \/>It's all a bit too knowing. Louis is in Trouble.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/><br \/>Louis ends up spending two hours in the coffeeshop. He decided about an hour in that he is a vigourous and enthusiastic fan of revisionist history.<br \/><br \/>He spent two hours in the coffeeshop grading papers, reading very intellectual literature, and writing prose gorgeous enough to bring the country to its knees.<br \/><br \/>He decidedly Did Not spend two hours in the coffeeshop trying \u2013 succeeding \u2013 to make Harry laugh, just to see the way he ducks under his fringe. The way he laughs so openly. The way he looks at Louis.<br \/><br \/>It's all very problematic, revisionist history, but, Louis thinks, it has its time and place.<br \/><br \/>He's meeting Zayn for dinner now and he's trying to control his face, really, because it's absolutely disgusting that he cannot stop smiling. Disgusting and inappropriate and unprofessional and Louis is none of those things.<br \/><br \/>He's not.<br \/><br \/>Zayn's already slumped over a notebook in their usual booth. His hair is flattened in the back and sticking up in the front. It's either sex-hair or thesis-hair, Louis isn't sure.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" he says, sliding in across from him.<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks up blearily. There's a lovebite on his neck, but his fingernails are also bitten down to the quick and his face is pale. \"Lou,\" Zayn says. \"Hey. How are you? Do you know anything about the European Union?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Um,\" Louis says, reaching for a menu. They're at their regular diner, but the menu is vast and delicious and Louis has a strict rule that he's not allowed to order anything twice until he's tried everything first. Except for the chicken-fried steak. He maybe cannot think of anything that sounds grosser than chicken-fried steak. Chicken should never be used as an adjective. \"No, mate, sorry. Why? What are you doing?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn mumbles something about diplomatic policies and Louis zones out. He was an English major with a writing minor for a reason. And that reason was avoiding the world and higher thought and generally, like, everything. He'll get the Denver omelet.<br \/><br \/>\"I'll get the Denver omelet,\" he tells Zayn as Zayn pauses to inhale.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm getting the chicken-fried steak,\" Zayn says. \"And I don't want to hear a single word out of you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis is pretty sure his facial expression counts as a response. \"Zayn, I need to unload my troubles.\"<br \/><br \/>The change is immediate. Zayn sits up and his face immediately clears from any poli-sci worries. His gaze softens and his fingers twitch toward Louis's hand. Louis really does not deserve someone like Zayn in his life. \"Of course, Lou. Anything. What's up?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis heaves a sigh and tangles his fingers with Zayn's. \"I think I may be, like, scum of the earth. Maybe.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn's brow furrows. \"Louis, no. Louis. You're amazing and hilarious and so, so caring. You never let anyone you love think they're less than they are. You\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Okay, so, like, the problem with having someone as absolutely, purely wonderful as Zayn in his life is that Zayn knows too much. Zayn completely cares about Louis more than anyone in Louis's immediate life, and running parallel to that, Zayn knows all of the little bits of Louis that Louis tries as hard as he can to hide.<br \/><br \/>It's all very confusing when Louis exaggerates for dramatic and comedic effect, because Zayn has been there when Louis was not exaggerating.<br \/><br \/>\"Zayn,\" Louis interrupts. \"Zayner.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn stops, but the concern in his wide, earnest eyes stays. God.<br \/><br \/>\"Zayn, I have a crush on a boy in my discussion section.\"<br \/><br \/>Immediately slumping back into the booth, Zayn closes his eyes and sighs. \"Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sorry,\" Louis says, sheepish. \"Sorry, sorry, sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fuck,\" Zayn says. He sighs again and rubs his hand over his face. \"Okay. Walk me through it.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Promise not to judge me?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Zayn says. \"Considering the possibilities that were just running through my head, I think you're safe.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Cheers.\" Louis rolls his eyes. \"Okay, so like. There's this boy. His name is Harry Styles, which, I know, right? What kind of stage name is that? But really. And he's like. He's so tall and lanky and built and just. He's got this mess of curly hair and these big eyes and. Okay, like. No. Zayn. You have to see his mouth. It's like... words won't do it justice. It's pornographic, frankly, and then when he <i>smiles<\/i> with it, like. I don't know what to do. Oh, also he's from the north, right? So like. Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn's trying and failing to hide a smile. \"The north as in, like, Massachusetts or Newcastle?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Like, outside of Manchester. Ew, Newcastle, who <i>are<\/i> you?\" Louis wraps his hands around his glass of water, hoping the coolness on his palms will travel up to his cheeks. Fuck.<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs. \"So you have a crush. I'm failing to see the problem.\"<br \/><br \/>\"He's eighteen! I'm a step away from being his <i>professor<\/i>!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Zayn says dryly. \"You are many, many, many steps from being a professor. Miles, I'd say. Lightyears. Galaxies.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis's mouth drops open. \"Ex<i>cuse<\/i> me? I would be a fantastic professor. I'm like. Smart. And eloquent. And shit.\"<br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Zayn takes a sip of his coffee. \"Okay, so let me recap. Correct me if I've missed anything. You have a crush on a boy who is four years younger than you, yes? And he's in your discussion section. Which is a semester long. And once he is no longer in your discussion section, he is fair game, yes?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Louis says miserably. \"But he'll probably think I'm old and creepy and boring. He probably thinks I have erectile dysfunction.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I...\" Zayn blinks. \"Um. Why would he think that, Louis?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't know, Zayn! Why does anyone think anything!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Zayn says, drawing the word out. \"Let me paint you a little picture. Eighteen year old Louis Tomlinson. Twinky as fuck. Just got to the big, bad colonies for his university education. Let's say little Louis has a discussion section with a sexy TA who happens to have an excellent bum. Let's say said TA is twenty-two. Is Louis's first thought, hey, I bet he has erectile dysfunction?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis chews on his bottom lip, thinking it over. \"Okay,\" he allows. \"Probably not. But eighteen year old Louis Tomlinson was gagging for it. Twenty-two year old Louis Tomlinson is gagging for it. If you saw eighteen year old Harry Styles, you would definitely agree with me that eighteen year old Harry Styles is decidedly not gagging for it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Zayn says. \"You're going to say whatever you can to talk yourself out of this, and I can't stop you, but just know that if I was in your class, Lou, I'd be rubbing one out under the desk.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles over at him. \"You're wonderful. I'm swooning.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn just shakes his head. \"And, Lou? Even if it doesn't work out, you're not creepy. There's nothing wrong with you. You know?\"<br \/><br \/>The waitress comes up to them, then, and Louis gives her a rather manic grin. \"Hello, love,\" he drawls. \"I'll take the Denver omelet, and this fine piece of meat over here will have the waffles.\" He shoves the menus at her, giving her one more winning smile as she walks away. He looks triumphantly back at Zayn. Niall's not the only one with distractics.<br \/><br \/>Zayn flips him off lazily. \"I'm going to get the chicken-fried steak someday and when I do, I am going to tie you down and sit on your stomach, eating it right in front of your face.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Please,\" Louis says. \"No dirty talk at the dinner table. Have you no manners?\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>For the next month, Louis dreads Tuesdays. Tuesdays, ten o'clock, in the art annex. He dreads them because he looks forward to them so much. Harry is always there to catch his eye, wink at him. He'll mime gagging whenever someone is particularly obnoxious. He'll mime sleeping when Louis is being particularly boring. It's actually excruciatingly adorable and Louis is Struggling.<br \/><br \/>One Tuesday, Louis comes home to Niall and a shockingly ginger boy sitting at his kitchen table. They both have a plate of tacos in front of them, and the table is covered in empty bottles of Guinness.<br \/><br \/>\"Guinness from a bottle actually tastes like rank ejaculate,\" Louis says, setting his bag down on the floor and collapsing into a chair. Niall nods and slides a bottle toward him. Louis takes it and pops the cap, lifting it in a mock salute.<br \/><br \/>\"Ed,\" Niall says, \"this is my roommate, Louis. Louis is in a state of perpetual bitch-mode because he is in love with a child in his class.\"<br \/><br \/>Ginger boy \u2013 Ed \u2013 laughs. \"A child? Please tell me you don't teach elementary school.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glares at Niall. \"Thank you, <i>Niall<\/i>. And no, Ginger, I do not teach elementary school. Who are you?\"<br \/><br \/>Niall very clearly mouths <i>bitch-mode<\/i> to Ed, who smirks. \"Ed is a musician, Lou. Pretty good, too. I'm producing his EP. It's really good.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You <i>produce<\/i>?\" Louis asks. \"How did I not know this?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Because, Louis,\" Niall says patiently, \"you have never once feigned interest in what I do.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis considers this, and then shrugs. He takes a long pull of his beer. \"Anyway, I just want to disclaim to you, musician Ed subtitled stranger, that I have a crush on an eighteen year old \u2013 completely overage and legal \u2013 student. I just happen to be his TA and discussion section leader. It's all very horrifying in the face of my professionalism.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Interesting,\" Ed says, drawing the word out.<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I'm glad my internal morality crisis and emotional distress is interesting to you. Niall, do you just invite any breed of sociopath into this apartment? Because I need to have some veto power.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Nah,\" Ed says. \"It's interesting because I live with a kid who has a massive crush on his discussion section leader. And he's eighteen. And I've heard a bit too much about butts than I really ever need to.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall chokes on his beer. Louis sits up straight, eyes sharpened on Ed. \"What's his name?\"<br \/><br \/>Lunging across the table, Niall shoves his hand over Ed's mouth. \"I can't let this happen,\" he screeches. \"Louis is <i>already<\/i> unbearable. This <i>will not help<\/i>. Don't say anything, Ed, I am begging you. I will speed your vocals up so much you sound like fuckin' Alvin and the Chipmunks.\"<br \/><br \/>Ed's shoulders are shaking with laughter and he nods. Niall removes his hand. \"Sorry, man,\" he says to Louis.<br \/><br \/>Louis's hands are clenched around his beer, and he stares intently at Ed. \"Ed,\" he says slowly, \"if that is your <i>real name<\/i>, I shan't forget the day you chose Niall over me.\"<br \/><br \/>Ed smiles back. \"You just let me know when you get your boy, yeah? I've got a song for you, I think.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"Sappy.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall laughs into his beer. \"Ed's got a show at the end of the semester, Lou. Maybe your boy will be there.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Maybe he will,\" Ed says. He waggles his eyebrows mysteriously.<br \/><br \/>\"You both think you are helping me,\" Louis grumbles, \"but when I have a heart attack at age twenty five, my death letter will be addressed to you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"That's suicide, Lou. You don't have a letter for a heart attack.\" Niall thinks he's the fucking voice of reason here, apparently. Louis scowls.<br \/><br \/>\"I'll write it right now and secret it about me person, just in case. Twat.\" Louis downs the rest of his beer and gets up. \"If you lads will excuse me, I have papers to grade. Like a proper adult who only has proper relationships.\"<br \/><br \/>He walks down the hallway to his room amidst hoots of laughter.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Fridays have always been Louis and Zayn nights. Ever since they first became friends, they found themselves going out together Friday nights, or at least finding each other before the night ended. And then they were Friends But Also More, and Fridays were their night to go out and drink and come back to the apartments and fuck. And then they circled back to Friends with the added bonus of You Know Too Much To Ever Leave, and they spend their Friday nights drinking and lamenting their disinterest in life, love, and general happiness.<br \/><br \/>This Friday is no different.<br \/><br \/>\"Zayn,\" Louis says. \"Zayner, Zayn, Zayn.\" He's only three beers in and he foresees a long night of hard drinking. It's cool; he had pasta for dinner. \"Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What,\" Zayn says back. He's perched on the window seat, and the window is pushed wide open, because Zayn generally decides about two days after signing a lease that outside is too far to go for a smoke.<br \/><br \/>\"Zayn, here's the thing. It has been a month and two weeks since I fell in love and it's not getting better. It always gets better by now. Why isn't it getting better? He's not even that special! He's just, like, pretty. And stuff.\" Louis stretches out on the couch and props his head up on his fists, gazing at Zayn with big, sad eyes. He assumes. He feels sad and he widens his eyes, so he hopes the sadness is conveyed.<br \/><br \/>Zayn takes a slow drag of his cigarette. Louis watches him with interest. Smoking is very poetic in a dirty, death-causing, smelly, gross kind of way. If smoking could just only be poetic without the other symptoms, Louis would be an avid smoker. He thinks he would look very Deep and Introspective with a cigarette. Zayn always warns him that this is a dangerous train of thought, because that is how Zayn started smoking. But Zayn has always had more literal delusions of grandeur than Louis. Louis just likes to hypothesis and complain. Zayn likes to smoke and internalise.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou, have you considered that you maybe genuinely like him as a person?\" Zayn looks over with an arched eyebrow.<br \/><br \/>Louis immediately shakes his head. \"Impossible. I like very few things genuinely as people. He's pretty and charming and I have fallen under the spell and someone must break it! Come over here and break me of it, big boy.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"You like me genuinely as a person.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well, yes,\" Louis allows. \"And I panicked about it for three weeks, so thanks for that, arsehole.\"<br \/><br \/>Smirking, Zayn says, \"Flattered, thank you. I'm just saying, maybe he's one more name you can add to the list. It's very unhealthy to only like me and Niall. You need some, like, variety or something.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hums. \"That sounds unappealing. Another beer sounds more appealing.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You didn't used to be so fucking misanthropic,\" Zayn yells after him as Louis goes into the kitchen.<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. It's true, though, he didn't. There wasn't really a specific moment where he gave up on humanity as a general species, it was more the steady progression of time and the unfortunate curse of being alive.<br \/><br \/>There is also the cliche that he prefers not to dwell on \u2013 the steady stream of shithead boyfriends and shittier flings and general disillusionment with love. It's not that he doesn't believe love exists, he just thinks maybe it's not for him.<br \/><br \/>And, predictably: \"Is this about Theo?\" Zayn asks him as he walks back into the TV room with two more beers.<br \/><br \/>\"Is what about Theo?\" Louis asks, innocent. That's the key with Zayn \u2013 feign ignorance until Zayn gets to that perfect mixture of annoyed and bored with the conversation to drop it.<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \"You've not properly been with anyone since him.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Excuse you, I was with you for like. A lot of months. Six? Seven? Don't sell yourself short, love.\" Louis will have to ride this one out. Zayn gets into these moods sometimes where he decides he's a fucking psychoanalyst and tries his techniques on Louis. Louis is very against being psychoanalysed because he can't even get any drugs out of it. He just has to sit and listen to Zayn telling him how he feels.<br \/><br \/>Louis is not a fan of being told how he feels.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, but we weren't properly together. We were friends who fucked and stuff.\" Zayn taps his cigarettes against the heel of his hand. The sun is setting outside and the orange glow lights up his profile. It's pretty gorgeous. Zayn's pretty gorgeous. It's rather unfair.<br \/><br \/>\"You loved me,\" Louis says dismissively. \"It counts.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I still love you, Lou, but that's like. We weren't in love and we're never going to be in love. Stop deflecting.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs sharply. \"I'm not fucking deflecting because there's nothing to deflect. What, exactly, do you want to talk about here? Theo? That was three years ago and I genuinely do not care about what happened anymore. He didn't give me any diseases and that's the only thing worth remembering there. Can we fucking move on?\" He sounds angrier than he actually is. He is not drunk enough for this.<br \/><br \/>\"No, Louis,\" Zayn says back, just as sharp. \"I wanna talk about this.\"<br \/><br \/>\"About <i>what<\/i>, Zayn? Like, no, honestly, I'm so confused here. I have a stupid crush on someone. Nothing is going to come of it and I will move on. This is not the first time this has happened and it will not be the last time. I don't know why you need to label me as fucking emotionally disturbed. There's nothing to discuss.\" Louis finishes his beer. He stares down at it with surprise. He's pretty sure he just opened it.<br \/><br \/>\"I wanna talk about why you act as if it's the end of the fucking world that you have a crush on some boy. Crushes are <i>fun<\/i>, Louis, and every fucking time you're attracted to anyone you freak the fuck out and hide in your fucking room and emerge months later with hundreds of pages of emotionally traumatising prose. That's not what is generally known as <i>healthy<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"So fucking what, Zayn? It's better than getting coked up and fucking anyone who touches my arse at a party, and you and I both know I already tried that one.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn flicks his ash out the window. He's stayed remarkably calm through this conversation. Louis is agitated. He'd prefer it if Zayn was just as agitated. When Zayn gets agitated, the chances of him letting Louis give him a blowjob go up. Louis could be agreeable to giving a blowjob tonight. It's been awhile.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Zayn says, more gentle this time. \"I just want you to be happy. You talk a good game, but come on.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis scoffs. \"I'm fine, and I swear to god, Zayn, if you try to bring this back to my fucking parents or something, I am leaving.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs around a mouthful of smoke. \"Yeah, okay. I do have theories there, too, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I fucking know, you sad excuse for a person. Seriously, get a hobby or a boyfriend or something and leave me alone.\" Louis pulls his legs under him and leans back into the couch. \"And will you get over here? What's the fucking point of making me feel like shit if you're not even going to cuddle me?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles and stubs out his cigarette, sliding off the window seat. \"Yeah,\" he says, plopping down onto the couch. Louis throws his legs over Zayn's lap and Zayn strokes at his ankle. \"Can you tell me what you're worried about, though?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and tilts his head back. \"Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou.\" Zayn's voice is soft. \"Is it his age?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"He's very charming. Very... he's not cocky, really, just. Assured. He knows the effect he has on people. And that's scary, I guess. To feel manipulated that way, even if he doesn't mean it. He's not, like, forcing me to fall in love with him or whatever, it's just. The way he is. And I don't like falling into that trap.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods and his hand comes to circle Louis's ankle, comforting. \"You're not exactly the most resistible person on the planet either, though, Lou. You know that, right? You're gorgeous and hilarious and you've definitely got your own brand of charm.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles faintly. \"I just can't afford to be in love with, or pine after, or whatever the fuck, another boy like Theo.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn's grip tightens. \"Theo was just a dick, Louis. Theo wasn't charming because he was a good person; Theo was charming so he could fuck people. And I think you could tell that, and I think you would be able to tell if your boy was doing that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh well,\" Louis says, wrinkling his nose. \"It doesn't matter anyway. Let's not forget that Harry is untouchable for another two months. And maybe straight. Or taken. Or any number of possibilities that do not involve being interested in me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Zayn says, rolling his eyes. \"He's probably whining to his best friend right now about the hot TA who pretends not to like him.\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's Friday night, Zayner. He's a freshman in college. I sincerely doubt he's as boring as we are,\" Louis says back. \"I need another fucking beer. Or shots. We should definitely be doing shots.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs. \"You just want to get me drunk.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis only smirks.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Office hours are probably the three most tedious hours of Louis's life. Over the course of the semester, he's probably had three students enter the office. Two of them were looking for the bathroom and the other one was a girl who clearly was more interested in sleeping with Louis for the grade then actually working on her paper.<br \/><br \/>And it's another Monday afternoon wasted on three hours of nothing but brooding. It's not like Louis can't work on his own stuff, because he can, but he's much more talented at pouting.<br \/><br \/>He sighs and picks up his pen, leaning over his notebook. He's trying to work on a short story, but it's daunting. Life is daunting. Louis needs strong coffee and possibly a vacation.<br \/><br \/>There are footsteps outside the office and Louis perks up a little. There are three days until the midterm paper is due and Louis cannot believe he hasn't gotten more concerned students. Not that he ever took advantage of office hours when he was undergrad, but, like, he's sure other people did. The swotty-types.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" comes a voice from the door and Louis swallows. He knows that voice.<br \/><br \/>He looks up and, yep, Harry's smiling that stupid, devastating smile at him. \"Hey, Harry,\" Louis says, smiling back. \"Paper troubles?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs and sits down across from Louis. \"What're you working on?\" he asks.<br \/><br \/>Louis glances down at his notebook, startled, as if he's never seen it before. Christ. \"Oh, um. I'm working on a collection of short stories? Like, I don't know.\" He laughs nervously.<br \/><br \/>When did he get to this point? When did he start <i>caring<\/i> what Harry thinks of him, or his work? How did this happen and how can he reverse it?<br \/><br \/>But Harry leans forward. \"Really? Are they, like, connected? What are you writing about?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Um,\" Louis says. No one really asks about his writing anymore, because he's trained them not to. He doesn't like to talk about it, the same way people generally don't like to talk about therapy. This is his therapy. \"Oh, um. I guess, like, they're interconnected thematically? They're about divorce, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, wow,\" Harry says, and fuck, but he does look actually interested. \"That's... could I read some? Is that something you do? I just. You know. That's one of those topics that...\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says quickly, cutting him off. Oh no. Abort abort death death woe woe. Harry is <i>vulnerable<\/i> and Louis. Just. Fuck. \"Yeah, um. I don't usually? But, um. I mean. I guess you could? I could, like, email you one or something. I don't know. You don't have to, like, say anything back.\" Louis lets out another nervous laugh. \"I mean, they're probably shit. I just kind of write for myself, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods slowly. \"No, Louis, I'd be really honoured. I get that it's private, so if you're at all uncomfortable, I mean. Don't worry about it at all. I don't mean to pry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a wan smile. \"No, really. I don't mind. You... it's. Wow.\" He laughs again, flustered. \"Um. So did you have a question about your paper, or...?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Harry says, shaking his head a little. \"Yeah, I mean. So I decided to analyse <i>One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest<\/i> through the lens of Roland Barthes' <i>Mythologies<\/i>? And I have my thesis and everything, I'm just a little stuck on one of the points, and I was wondering if maybe you could explain this idea to me in a little more depth?\" Harry starts digging through his bag, pulling out the books.<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks. \"Harry, that's some pretty intense lit theory, there. You don't have to, like, overachieve. It's a 101 class.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks at Louis a little blankly. \"I... oh.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I mean,\" Louis hurries to add, \"it's really, really advanced. That's not a bad thing. Just, you know, when he said to use a theoretical piece he meant more like the T.S. Eliot essay we discussed a few weeks ago. But there's nothing wrong with using Mythologies. You just surprised me. I'm impressed.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles, cheeks red.<br \/><br \/>Louis is <i>so absolutely gone<\/i>. \"Um,\" Louis says. \"I'll just. Let me read what you have so far and I'll send you some feedback, okay? Does tonight work for you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"That'd be great,\" Harry says, looking relieved. \"Thank you so much.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis swallows. \"Not a problem.\"<br \/><br \/>\"And,\" Harry says, standing up, \"I really would love to read your writing. So. Again, only if you're comfortable with it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'll... send you some tonight,\" Louis says weakly. \"Thank you.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry gives him another devastating smile and leaves.<br \/><br \/>Louis slumps forward onto his desk, head in his hands. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/><center><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15627.html\" target=\"_blank\">continue<\/a><center><\/div><\/center><\/center>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:15627","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15627.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=15627"}}],"title":"like a simile, i paint suggestive pictures (of me and you) (hs\/lt)","published":"2013-04-24T00:10:36Z","updated":"2013-04-24T00:11:44Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15976.html\" target=\"_blank\">part one<\/a><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis spends the rest of his office hours reading over Harry's essay and by the time he gets home, he is upset.<br \/><br \/>\"Niall,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Niall is on the couch, watching Adventure Time. Louis is not entirely sure how Niall has so much free time in his last year of undergrad, but there is not much about Niall that Louis understands.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, Lou,\" Niall says, not taking his eyes away from the screen. \"I think Finn is gonna make a move on Princess Bubblegum, hold on.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I am upset, Niall,\" Louis says, laying down on the couch with his head on Niall's lap. Niall immediately starts petting his hair.<br \/><br \/>\"Okay, okay, just gimme a second,\" Niall says.<br \/><br \/>Louis hums and closes his eyes. Niall knows just how to pet him and it turns him into a cat.<br \/><br \/>Ten minutes later, Niall shifts underneath him. He says, \"Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks his eyes open. \"Hey.\"<br \/><br \/>Laughing a little bit, Niall strokes his hand through Louis's hair one more time. \"What's up, babe?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sits up and yawns. \"Long day.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, same. Man, why didn't you tell me that geology isn't actually about throwing rocks at things?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles, sleepy. He leans his head on Niall's shoulder. \"Sorry, Nialler. Didn't want to shatter the illusion.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall laughs a little. \"So, what's up? Why are you upset?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh.\" Louis sighs and it comes out long-suffering. Accurate, then. \"I am in way, way too deep, Niall.\"<br \/><br \/>\"The boy?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"On top of being, like, lovely, he's also really fucking smart. And, like. Whatever. Kill me. I have to go email him notes on his paper. And he asked to read some of my short stories? Like, what the fuck?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Wow,\" Niall says, shifting back to look at Louis. \"You don't let any of us read your stories. Well, me, anyway. Maybe you let Zayn. You let Zayn do a lot of things to you that you don't let me do.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bats his eyelashes up at Niall. \"Just say the word, darlin', and I'm all yours.\" He stands up and stretches, before looking back down at Niall. \"Hey,\" he says. \"I'm sorry I'm so, like, self-obsessed lately. I know it's annoying. This'll go away soon and I'll go back to being raptly invested in your life.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall snorts. \"Right. And nah, Lou. It's good. You've seemed happier. I mean, aside from the tortured part. But, yeah, I don't know. It's good to see you, like, more alive. I guess. Think about that, or whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"You've been talking to Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well.\" Niall smiles, shrugging. \"We're your support group of two.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You both need to get... things. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. What the fuck ever. Am I not narcissistic enough for you? Stop <i>handling<\/i> me!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" Niall says. \"If you must know, a girl in my geology class offered to help tutor me. She's cute. She likes my accent.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"She probably just pities how absolutely shit you are at geology, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oi, fuck off. I open up to you and this is how you react.\" Niall grabs his guitar from behind the couch. \"I'm going to write a song entitled Louis Is The Worst Friend And He Can Choke On My Dick Metaphorically Not Literally Please Stop Looking At My Crotch Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flips him off and goes to his bedroom. Time to deal with this stupidly not-stupid boy who he is stupidly stupid over. Sitting down at his desk, he opens his laptop and email and stares at the blank white. It's all so intimidating. Anything he's saying here is a <i>record<\/i> and can be used against him. It's permanent. He's terrified, a little.<br \/><br \/>A half an hour, two laps around the apartment, and three beers later, he sends the email with his critique of Harry's essay. He added a postscript: <i>I've attached one of the stories in the collection. It's... well, sorry, mate. Don't feel like you need to reply.<\/i><br \/><br \/>He stands up and falls face first into his bed.<br \/><br \/>A half an hour later, his phone dings with his email alert. His intestines are alive, on fire, and trying to claw their way into his stomach. SOS SOS SOS woe woe death death imminent death.<br \/><br \/>He crawls over to his computer and with absurd trepidation, he clicks on the unread email.<br \/><br \/><i>Louis,<br \/><br \/>Thank you so much for your notes. I completely understand what you're saying and, man, maybe you should rewrite Barthes, because that makes so much more sense. Thank you, seriously. I've been thinking about what you said, about this being too advanced or whatever, and I'm a little nervous. I hope it doesn't come off like I'm sucking up or anything! I just found an excerpt of Barthes on JSTOR and was intrigued. I don't know. Please tell me if I'm being dumb here.<br \/><br \/>And, Louis, god. Your story was... I don't even know what to say. The way you use words is powerful, and that's an understatement. I almost teared up, mate! Maybe it's because I'm close to the situation (forgive me for getting personal here \u2013 my parents divorced two years ago) but god. You're so talented. The emotion was subtle and striking and just enough to give me the choice to be affected, if that makes sense? You're not holding my hand through it, you're not telling me how I should feel. You're presenting the facts, you're showing me what's happening through your characters, and you're allowing me to be affected in the way that I choose. That is an amazing talent.<br \/><br \/>Thank you so, so much for sharing that with me. I'm really grateful and honoured. I don't want to, like, be that person who asks if it was personal, but if it was, then I feel very close to you and I just want to tell you that I think you're an amazingly strong person. Just. Thank you again.<br \/><br \/>Harry Styles<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis immediately goes back to his bed and screams into his pillow for five minutes. Niall knocks on his door.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Go away,\" Louis says. He screams again.<br \/><br \/>\"Are you okay?\" Niall asks.<br \/><br \/>Screaming into a pillow is a sacred act, Louis thinks. If there's muffled screaming in a room where there's very clearly only <i>one person<\/i> occupying it, the Official Roommate Code should be to ignore it.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm fine. Go talk to Zayn about my fucking emotional distress or whatever.\" Louis rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling.<br \/><br \/>He wants to tell himself he won't reply, but even as he thinks that, he's going back to his computer.<br \/><br \/><i>Harry,<br \/><br \/>I'm... overwhelmed? I guess. I don't really let people read what I write. All of my friends have learnt by now not to ask, I guess. You must have caught me offguard, haha. Not that I mind, really! I'm weirdly overprotective. But, god. I'm really flattered that you feel so strongly. That it hit you in that way, I guess. And, yeah, it's a personal piece. I suppose I'm just a big mess of daddy issues piled into one slightly humanoid shape. My dad left when I was little and my stepdad left when I wasn't so little and the time in between was kind of a catastrophe for me and my family, you know. Probably teenage boys shouldn't have to deal with emotional trauma, because that shit lingers, haha. I don't mean to overshare! I'm just really touched that you appreciated it the way you did. So thank you for that.<br \/><br \/>Louis<\/i><br \/><br \/>He sends it with a knot in his stomach. He's crossing a line here, he's sure. He's sure this is wildly inappropriate. He needs space and time and oceans between him and this boy, because this boy is making him insane. He decides to watch Parks and Recreation instead.<br \/><br \/>It takes an episode and a half before his email lets out another alert.<br \/><br \/><i>Louis\u2013<br \/><br \/>Oh, god, I really hope you don't feel like I pressured you into sending me that!! I feel awful now, haha.<br \/><br \/>But seriously, I completely understand. My mum recently got remarried and it's just a big adjustment, I guess. I don't know. I kind of came to the US to get away from it all. Not that he's awful or I'm unhappy with it or anything! Just, like, it's a lot to have to deal with. It's a hard adjustment, and I cannot imagine having to deal with it before I was more actualised. If that makes sense. Not that I see myself as fully actualised or anything, god, I sound crazy right now. Just, like, as an early teenager, is all I mean. I know I said this already, but you seem like a really strong person.<br \/><br \/>I think you really showed that in your piece \u2013 the feeling of independence that comes through abandonment, if that makes sense? Your character, Max, spent a lot of time defining himself through his father, and through the image of his father that he created, and then came through in the end stronger, having shattered that. And I just think that's something that every young person goes through, regardless of their family situation, you know? Being defined through their parents, and the inevitable disappointment that comes with the realisation that they're not and never will be their parents.<br \/><br \/>I think I'm still dealing with that, actually. I don't know. Sorry for emoting at you hahaha.<br \/><br \/>Harry .x<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis sits in front of his computer, dumbfounded. He knew Harry was smart. He knew Harry was an intelligent, sensitive person. He was well aware of all that, before this bomb of an email exploded on his fucking foxhole.<br \/><br \/>He's spent a lot of time acknowledging Harry's academic prowess, and absolutely point-blank refused to acknowledge his <i>personhood<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Louis is very, very talented at appreciating aesthetics. He is the first one to elbow Zayn and point out a fit boy across the room. Whilst watching telly with Niall, Louis spends most of his brainspace deciding who is the hottest male lead and who is the prettiest female lead and deciding who should fuck based solely on that. He's predicted the outcome of the last three seasons of the Bachelor based purely on his knowledge of what the vapid contestants are looking for. Louis is incredibly accomplished at being shallow.<br \/><br \/>What Louis tries desperately to avoid is introspection. He despises Zayn's desire for his deep talks. He envies Zayn in equal amounts, though, for his ability to express his feelings with the ease he does. He is in awe of people who can sit down and open themselves up to the world without fear of being laughed at, of being rejected. Louis is crippled by the fear that if he opens himself up without the fragile protection of a character to hide behind, the world will string up his insecurities one by one and use them against him until he has nothing left.<br \/><br \/>But then Harry fucking Styles comes along and knocks Louis out with his perfect aesthetics and now. Now Louis has tangible proof, glowing against his face, that Harry can see through him, can see through his characters \u2013 on the page and off \u2013 and he can see Louis without any of the bullshit he uses to obscure himself. He can see Louis, he's seeing Louis, and he's not finding him wanting. He's saying Louis is <i>strong<\/i>. He's saying Louis is someone to be admired.<br \/><br \/>Standing up on shaking legs, Louis walks directly into the bathroom and throws up.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next day, during the discussion section, Louis avoids Harry's eyes intently. Immediately after class, he shoves his papers into his bag and ignores the fact Harry is hanging back, looking worried.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, um, Louis?\" Harry asks, and he actually fucking shuffles his feet. Harry is the embodiment of everything Louis has ever read about and assumed was a literary exaggeration.<br \/><br \/>He doesn't turn around for a moment, he just says, \"One sec, Harry,\" and pulls out his phone.<br \/><br \/><i>here's the thing what if i just compared harry to mr darcy in my head<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Zayn will appreciate that.<br \/><br \/>Grabbing his bag and turning to face Harry, he smiles brightly. \"What's up?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Harry says, blinking nervously. \"I just wanted to make sure that we're, like, okay? I mean, I don't want to be annoying or anything, I just. You didn't reply to my email last night \u2013 which is totally fine, obviously! \u2013 I just wanted to make sure I didn't cross any lines or anything, I guess?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis forces a laugh and Harry's brows furrow. \"No, Harry, god, sorry, I got distracted. My roommate was being stupid, you know. Of course you didn't! I'm really flattered by your insight. Thank you, again.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods and runs his hand through his hair. \"Okay. Good, um. Well. I'll see you around, I guess? Have a good day.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You too,\" Louis says. He lets Harry walk out before him so he can silently tell whatever higher power that is constantly, consistently, and thoroughly fucking him over to <i>get a life<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Deciding he needs a quad shot of something chocolatey, he heads immediately to his coffeeshop. Spreading the papers he needs to grade out on the corner table, he orders his usual and immediately puts his head in his hands. There is absolutely no reason this boy should be causing him this much anxiety. He's had crushes before. He had a massive crush on Zayn, before everything. He memorised Zayn's schedule and conveniently placed himself where he knew Zayn would walk by. He wrote a novella on a character based on Zayn. He fancied himself In Love with Zayn, before everything.<br \/><br \/>And with Theo, he was even stupider. He made sure he was at every party Theo went to. He added Theo on facebook minutes after they spoke for the first time. He managed to get drunk and managed to make out with Theo at least eight times before they fucked. He asked Theo out with a shaky voice and a certainty he would get laughed out. He dated Theo for two and a half years, while Theo simultaneously dated the majority of the English department, unbeknownst to Louis.<br \/><br \/>There were boys before and after, too, that Louis became \u2013 for lack of a better word \u2013 obsessed with. He obsessively checks their facebooks, their relationship statuses. He is borderline psychopathic, honestly. But it always fucking <i>fades<\/i>, is the thing. He gets crushes, and then he doesn't. He panics, tortures himself for a few weeks, and he gets over it.<br \/><br \/>And all Louis can think about now is the fact that it's not happening. It's not fading. He's completely consumed and it's irrational and he's writing horribly metaphoric poems about swimming upstream and chronic falling and autumn and green eyes and Louis wants to vomit, die, and make this <i>end<\/i>. He's getting dangerously to the point of impact, he thinks. Dangerously to the point of realisation that this is not a <i>crush<\/i>; to the point of realisation that if something doesn't happen, he will <i>be<\/i> crushed.<br \/><br \/>Dragging his fingers through his hair, he sits up and sighs. He doesn't have time for this. It's stupid. He's just a stupid, stupid boy with a crush on someone unattainable. He'll read some Whitman and get the fuck over it.<br \/><br \/>He will.<br \/><br \/>His email pings with an alert, and Louis rolls his eyes. He's pretty sure it's the professor, asking for an update on his discussion section. Mindlessly flipping through his tabs, he gets to his email and his stomach drops.<br \/><br \/>It's not the professor. It's Harry fucking Styles.<br \/><br \/><i>Louis,<br \/><br \/>I just wanted to apologise again. I know you said not to worry about it, but I've been thinking a lot and you said you never let anyone read your work, and I'm really sorry if you feel like I've pushed too hard after you've given me that privilege. I honestly would never intentionally intrude upon your privacy and I feel terrible thinking I may have crossed that line.<br \/><br \/>Harry .x<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis lets out a deep breath. <i>Fuck<\/i>. Fuck.<br \/><br \/><i>Harry\u2013<br \/><br \/>God, please, no. Don't feel that way. I don't... really know what to say, I guess, because you're right. It's private and it's hard to let people into that side of me. I'm not really built for that.<br \/><br \/>I think you are an incredible person. Just know that.<br \/><br \/>Louis x<\/i><br \/><br \/>He closes his eyes and sends it. His palms are sweating. He doesn't know what he's doing. This is getting too much, too close. The urge to run is too, too strong.<br \/><br \/>Harry replies almost immediately.<br \/><br \/><i>Louis,<br \/><br \/>If this is too forward, please, please, please tell me to fuck off and I will, immediately. But. Is there any chance you would want to get dinner with me?<br \/><br \/>I really hope... god. I don't know. I am hoping to hell I'm not intensely creepy here and I'm sure you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or. Just. I don't know. I'm so sorry. Ignore this. Or yell at me. I'm so sorry.<br \/><br \/>But I think I'll feel worse if I never ask, so.<br \/><br \/>Harry .x<\/i><br \/><br \/>Standing up so fast he almost upturns his table, Louis motions to the barista that he's stepping outside and all but runs out the door.<br \/><br \/>With shaking hands, he frantically dials Zayn.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, what,\" Zayn grunts upon picking up.<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks furiously at the ground. \"Zayn. Can\u2013can you talk?\"<br \/><br \/>There's a pause, and then Zayn's voice comes back, clearer, more gentle, and concerned. \"What's up, Lou?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I\u2013\" Louis chokes on the words. \"Harry just. Harry just asked me out.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, Lou,\" Zayn says. \"Are you okay? Is he there now?\"<br \/><br \/>Pinching the bridge of his nose, Louis squeezes his eyes shut. \"No, fuck. It was over email. Like I'm Meg Ryan, I don't know. Oh my god.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey. Hey, Louis,\" Zayn says, soothing. \"Lou, it's okay. What are you going to say?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't know, oh my god. This was never even in the realm of possibility.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"Of course it was, Louis. Everyone could tell from the way you talked about him that he was into you. What are you going to say?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I <i>can't<\/i> go out with him! I'm his TA, Zayn! I... oh my god.\" Louis is <i>not<\/i> going to cry, because Louis promised himself a long time ago that he would never cry over a man again.<br \/><br \/>\"Look,\" Zayn says. \"I'm gonna need you to calm down, Louis. You're gonna email him back and you're going to tell him that you want to go out with him, and you can phrase that however you'd like, but you need to <i>reassure him that he's not blindly hitting on his TA<\/i>, and then you're going to remind him that you <i>are his TA<\/i> and that sort of thing is frowned upon. Then, you are going to tell him that there is a month until the semester is over, and you are looking forward to taking him out the moment he turns in his final paper. Got it?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath. \"What if he finds someone better in a month, Zayn?\"<br \/><br \/>He is so, so pathetic and all he wants is to curl into a ball in Zayn's bed and have Zayn wrap his skinny arms around him.<br \/><br \/>\"There's no such thing, Louis. Believe that. I'm hanging up. Go email Harry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis spends five more minutes sitting on the curb and staring at traffic before gathering himself and going back inside.<br \/><br \/><i>Harry,<br \/><br \/>You're not crossing any lines. Well, technically, I suppose you are, but before we get to that, I just want to say that I do want to get dinner with you. Very much so. At the risk of making myself sound even creepier, I've wanted to since you walked into that shitty classroom for the first time.<br \/><br \/>But, while I'm your TA, I can't. We can't. Just... if you're still interested when the semester is over, you know how to get ahold of me.<br \/><br \/>Louis x<\/i><br \/><br \/>Woe woe death death woe.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The days crawl by, and Louis feels as though he's literally crawling through them.<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Niall says one afternoon \u2013 two weeks after what Louis considers D-Day \u2013crawling into Louis's bed, where Louis is trying desperately to stay alive. \"You're being melodramatic.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Your mum's melodramatic,\" Louis grumbles back.<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Louis<\/i>,\" Niall says. \"You're better than that.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs, rolling over to face Niall. \"Not anymore. Everything has abandoned me, even my creativity with comebacks.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall rolls his eyes. \"You could be on the stage with these dramatics. You know what I think you need? A night out.\" He nods, as though that settles it.<br \/><br \/>\"I am ill-equipped. I haven't been out in ages. There's nothing out there for me. All I have is my bed and crippling self-doubt.\" Louis sighs into Niall's face, fully aware of the turkey-guac-onion sandwich he had for lunch.<br \/><br \/>Niall chokes. \"I absolutely loathe you. No, though. I talked to Zayn. We're taking you out. We're gonna meet up with Liam and them at that club down on fourth and we are going to get shitfaced and dance and meet cute humans.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Humans aren't my type,\" Louis says.<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Louis<\/i>,\" Niall groans. He gets out of the bed and pulls on Louis's wrist. \"We're going. Zayn's going to be here at eight and we are going to pregame and then go <i>have fun<\/i>. Remember fun, Louis? It's something you used to be.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes. \"Fine. If I go out I get two weeks of immunity. No dragging me into civilisation.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fine,\" Niall huffs. \"But get up. Put on ass-pants. Something sexy, I don't care.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Niall, you cheeky little minx.\" Louis grins at him.<br \/><br \/>Niall winks back. \"Someday, Lou, we're gonna have done with it and make passionate love. I am ninety-nine percent positive that is how this rom-slash-buddy-com ends.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Let me ride you off into the sunset, Nialler,\" Louis says. \"Just say the word.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall just laughs and leaves the room. Louis surveys his closet. Something sexy. Right.<br \/><br \/>Two hours later, Louis is on the way to Very Drunk. Zayn and Niall are pouring shots in the kitchen and Louis is sprawled on the couch. Zayn appears behind him, holding a shotglass. Louis tips his head back and opens his mouth. Zayn smirks.<br \/><br \/>\"This looks familiar somehow,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis giggles and Zayn pours the shot down his throat. It's tequila and Louis is going to hate himself in the morning, but right now he can't even pretend to care.<br \/><br \/>\"Oi,\" Niall shouts. \"We should go before Princess Lou passes out.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"We should go. I want to dance. Let's dance.\"<br \/><br \/>The apartment is only a couple of blocks from the club and Louis clings to Zayn as they walk, whispering in his ear.<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Louis<\/i>,\" Zayn hisses, flustered.  \"Stop it, shit.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles to himself, smug. \"I love you, Zayner. I love you I love you I love you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Zayn says, exactly at the moment Niall says, \"<i>We know<\/i>, Louis. \"<br \/><br \/>Louis just laughs, letting go of Zayn to skip ahead. The cover is four dollars and Louis throws his arm out for a stamp, ignoring the bouncer's suspicious look.<br \/><br \/>\"Watch him,\" the bouncer says to Zayn. Zayn just sighs.<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" he yells, and Louis just waves behind him, weaving his way to the bar.<br \/><br \/>Three drinks later finds Louis on the dancefloor, grinding into some very muscular bloke behind him. His eyes are closed and he's heedless of the hands on his hips, running over his body. Niall was right. He used to be fun. He needed this reminder.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Zayn says, and Louis opens his eyes. He smiles hazily at Zayn in front of him.<br \/><br \/>\"Zayner,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Let's get some water, yeah?\" Zayn grabs his wrist and pulls Louis away from the hands on him. Louis sends the bloke an apologetic look back, but follows Zayn to the bar. Niall's sitting on a stool, talking animatedly to a laughing couple.<br \/><br \/>\"Nialler!\" Louis yells, pulling away from Zayn and rushing over to him. \"Nialler, I've missed you, you need to come dance with me, let's get this rom-com back on track!\" Louis turns to greet the couple Niall's been chatting with and.<br \/><br \/>And his stomach drops to the floor.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" he says. \"Hello.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes are wide, and the air between them is charged. The girl Harry's with is oblivious, still laughing at whatever Niall's saying, but Harry's arm is around her waist, and it's intimate. There's lipstick on his mouth and on his neck.<br \/><br \/>Louis feels every point of contact between them like a punch in the gut.<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Harry says. \"Hi.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just stares back at him, and hopes like hell he's got a convincing smile on his face.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou!\" Niall's shouting. \"Lou, Lou, Lou! Harry here's from <i>England<\/i>! You know what I said, I said, Hey, Harry, my roommate's from England too! You should meet him! And now here you are! It's like fate!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis turns away from Harry's intent gaze and looks down at Niall, who's grinning madly. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is sweaty and Niall is <i>drunk<\/i>. He smiles a little more real at Niall. \"Yeah, Ni, Harry and I know each other. He's in my discussion section.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh!\" Niall exclaims. \"Oh, god, is this fate or <i>what<\/i>! Harry, mate, Louis has the most intense crush on some kid in\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"Niall, can we chat?\" Louis cuts in sharply. \"Can we chat like right now?\"<br \/><br \/>Niall blinks a few times before he focuses in on Louis's expression. His grin immediately falls off his face. \"Oh. Fuck.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn finally comes up to them. \"Christ, Louis, don't just take off like that, mate,\" he says, slightly out of breath. He looks over at Harry and the girl Harry's with and he nods. \"Hey. I'm Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks overwhelmed, completely out of his depth. Louis can relate. \"Harry,\" he says weakly. Louis can feel Zayn's sharp breath behind him as the girl smiles at Zayn. \"I'm Steph.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis gives her a half smile. \"I'm Louis.\" She grins back at him. Louis is feeling his drunkenness slip off him like he's crawling out of the ocean, and all Louis wants in the world is to crawl back into it and drown.<br \/><br \/>Zayn's arm snakes around Louis's waist and Louis thinks vaguely that he's the only thing keeping him standing. He thinks that about Zayn a lot. He is very, very glad Zayn is in his life. Turning around in Zayn's arms, he raises up onto his tiptoes to press his mouth against Zayn's ear. \"We need to leave. We need to leave before I lose it. We need to leave.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn breathes back. He grabs Niall by the back of his jacket and pulls him up. \"Well, it was lovely to meet you both, but this is the end of the night for us. The grown-ups have to get to bed or something. Have a good night.\"<br \/><br \/>Steph says, \"Good luck, guys. Great to meet you. See you around!\"<br \/><br \/>Harry just stands there, staring at Louis, looking like he's been hit by a car.<br \/><br \/>\"Bye, Harry,\" Louis says.<br \/><br \/>It sounds final, even to his own ears.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm busy.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis, staring at a pile of paper is not busy. If you were grading them, you could possibly be busy. You are not busy. We're going out for dinner.\" Zayn's got his <i>do not argue<\/i> voice on.<br \/><br \/>Louis rubs his hand over his face. \"I can't. I'm busy. I genuinely have to get these graded.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs and sits down on Louis's bed next to him. \"Lou, come on. Let's talk.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flops onto his back and starfishes out. \"No. Don't you have your own problems? Let's talk about your problems. Don't <i>internalise<\/i> so much, Zayn, it's not healthy.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, but, Louis,\" Zayn says, \"I'm not the one here who's likely to forget to eat for days and days because I refuse to deal with what's bothering me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm dealing just fine, thank you,\" Louis snaps. \"I'm not upset. I have no reason to be upset. He had absolutely no commitment to me. There is less than a single reason for me to be upset with him. He is eighteen, which, <i>god<\/i>, what was I thinking anyway? And being eighteen and gorgeous, he has people all over him always. I don't blame him. Good for him, really.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods a little and lays back next to Louis. \"Okay, I mean, yes. But that doesn't invalidate the way you're feeling. It doesn't invalidate the fact that you're not <i>happy<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm never happy,\" Louis says. \"This is hardly revolutionary. If it's not this, it'd be something else. Shut up. God. Do you just have Dr. Phil hooked up to an intravenous line into your brain?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis.\" Zayn rolls over to face him.<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes at the ceiling. \"<i>Zayn<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Look, hey, let me set you up, yeah? Liam broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago, and I know he always thought you were fit, so, like. You like Liam.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not getting <i>set up<\/i>, oh my god, will you fuck off? How old am I?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You need to do <i>something<\/i>! You can't just rot away under a pile of papers you're not grading.\" Zayn huffs a sigh.<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says. \"If I go out to dinner with you, will you leave me alone?\"<br \/><br \/>Giving Louis a half-smile, Zayn just says, \"Maybe.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis groans.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>It's office hours again, and Louis is actually writing. It's a week before the end of the semester; a week before final papers are due, and Louis has completely given up on even the swottiest of the swots asking for help. Good riddance. He might just fail everyone out of general spite.<br \/><br \/>He's writing a short story, but deviating from his theme. He's writing about two boys, one scared, and one not. It's all just a shitshow. Louis is a shitshow. He's not pretending otherwise, except to, like, Zayn. Zayn doesn't need to know that he's a shitshow, because Louis has been doing Very Well with convincing Zayn that he is Absolutely Fine.<br \/><br \/>Whatever.<br \/><br \/>Louis is in the middle of a scene where the unnamed main character is brooding. He thinks this unnamed main character broods a little bit too much. This unnamed character needs a hobby. This unnamed main character is a self-absorbed, selfish, unlikeable piece of shit. Louis should maybe make this unnamed main character a little more likable. He'll edit it later.<br \/><br \/>Too bad he can't edit himself, he thinks. He could do with a little bit more likability. <i>He<\/i> doesn't even like himself. He scrawls in the margin of his notebook: <i>self-loathing is sooooooo unattractive.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis scowls down at his page. He's great. He's funny and he has a great arse. He's great. Everything is great. Leaning forward until his forehead hits the table, Louis groans into the table.<br \/><br \/>It's office hours. No one can hear him scream.<br \/><br \/>Except there\u2019s a knock on the doorframe. Louis raises his head, and oh. Well. Shit.<br \/><br \/>Harry\u2019s standing there, looking hesitant, nervous, tentative. \u201cHi,\u201d he says quietly.<br \/><br \/>Louis wants to faceplant right back down onto the desk and resume his groaning. Instead, he says, \u201cHey, Harry. Paper troubles?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cI, um. Well, no. Not as such.\u201d Harry\u2019s still standing in the doorway, as if waiting for an invitation. Louis holds in his sigh and nods at the chair across from him.<br \/><br \/>\u201cWhat\u2019s up, then?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry shuffles over and sits down. He slides his hands under his thighs and peeks up at Louis through his fringe. \u201cI... this is really awkward, I\u2019m sorry. But I feel really bad about the other night and I just. I guess I wanted to explain?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis smooths his expression into something he hopes is blank. Expressionless. \u201cHarry. There\u2019s nothing to explain. Everything is fine.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry blinks a bit. \u201cOkay,\u201d he says doubtfully. \u201cBut, I mean, I wanted to apologise? I mean, I know that looked bad and I know I said I--\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cHarry,\u201d Louis cuts him off. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing to apologise for, seriously. This isn\u2019t a conversation we should be having anyway, but I don\u2019t want you to feel guilty for anything, because there\u2019s nothing to feel guilty for. Don\u2019t worry about anything.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry stares at him, dubious. \u201cI... okay. Is that, like, it? I mean...\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis huffs out a resigned laugh. \u201cDo you have any questions about your paper, Harry?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cNo,\u201d Harry says softly. \u201cI\u2019ll see you around, Louis.\u201d He gets up and walks to the door, but pauses again in the doorway, turning to face Louis. \u201cI am sorry, though, if you think I feel any differently about you now.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes briefly. \u201cHarry,\u201d he whispers.<br \/><br \/>Harry just bites his lips and nods before leaving.<br \/><br \/>Swallowing his internal screaming, Louis scrawls out a quick note to tape on his door for any swots and leaves his office a half an hour before his hours are over.<br \/><br \/>He gets home and before he even unlocks the door, he hears the sound of two guitars in the living room. He wanders in, dropping his bag on the floor by the couch, and watches as Niall and Ginger Ed riff off each other. Niall\u2019s laughing and there are empty beers on the coffee table. Louis sinks onto the floor at Niall\u2019s feet and leans his head against his knee.<br \/><br \/>\u201cHey, Louis,\u201d Niall sings, still strumming. \u201cLouis, Louis, pretty Louis, Louis, why are you sad? Louis, Louis, don\u2019t be sad, Louis, Louis, we love you, Louis.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cPretty, pretty Lou,\u201d Ed croons, \u201cPretty Louis, pining over pretty Harry, pretty boys, what a pity they can\u2019t get all kissy, pretty pretty.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis turns his face into Niall\u2019s leg and groans. \u201cI hate both of you.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Niall\u2019s guitar rings out an echo, and his hand comes down to card through Louis\u2019s hair. \u201cAlright, baby?\u201d he asks, softer.<br \/><br \/>\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d he says. \u201cWhat are you guys up to?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Niall shrugs. \u201cJust jamming. Ed\u2019s got a show coming up, actually, Lou. You should come. We\u2019re all going, actually, so you don\u2019t technically have a choice.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Ed nods. \u201cYeah, it should be good, actually. I\u2019ve got some mates coming along to jam with me, and we\u2019re just gonna have fun up there. I think you\u2019d like it, Louis.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \u201cSure, no, that sounds like fun. I\u2019ll be there. There\u2019ll be a bar, right?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Ed snorts. \u201cAs if I\u2019d play somewhere without a bar.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles at him. \u201cIn another world, Ed, you and I would be brothers.\u201d<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The last day of the semester comes all too quickly. Just two weeks ago, Louis thinks wryly, he was anticipating this day ridiculously. The days were coming too slowly. Now, it\u2019s just another clock ticking down the minutes he\u2019ll have to ever see Harry again.<br \/><br \/>Not that he wants to see Harry again. Right. Because he doesn\u2019t. Because he\u2019s Over It.<br \/><br \/>\u201cI am over it,\u201d Louis tells Zayn, on the Sunday night before finals week. \u201cI am so over it that I\u2019m not even sure what the <i>it<\/i> I\u2019m referring to is.\u201d He has maybe had a few beers.<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods from his window seat throne. \u201cOh, yeah, Lou, I believe you. Water off a duck\u2019s back, that\u2019s your philosophy.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cExcuse me,\u201d Louis says, haughty. \u201cI do <i>not<\/i> think in idioms.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cWhatever,\u201d Zayn says. \u201cI think you should talk to him.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing to talk about.\u201d<br \/><br \/>And there\u2019s not. Louis isn\u2019t <i>devastated<\/i>, he doesn\u2019t think. He\u2019s functioning. He thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, he expected this. Harry was always sort of a ghost of expectation, just out of grasp. The beautiful boy sitting in the third row, smiling at him. There was the professional barrier between them, and Louis thinks he wouldn\u2019t have crossed that line. He thinks -- hopes -- he would have had enough self control. Harry was always just a metaphor for his life, maybe. Something beautiful, something so good, just too far away. Just on another plane.<br \/><br \/>\u201cOi,\u201d Zayn says, interrupting his thoughts. \u201cIf you\u2019re gonna get lost inside your head, at least let me in. It\u2019s literally all I want.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \u201cThere\u2019s a penis on the blackboard in my classroom.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn blinks. \u201cOkay,\u201d he says. \u201cAnd?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cAnd, so, like, Harry\u2019s sort of the personification of everything I want but can\u2019t have, right, and the penis is life. Ejaculating its reality on my head. Comeshot of reality. Reality-check bukakke. It\u2019s poetic, really,\u201d Louis muses.<br \/><br \/>\u201cLouis.\u201d Zayn sounds unimpressed.<br \/><br \/>\u201cI\u2019m just saying!\u201d Louis says.<br \/><br \/>\u201cWhat I\u2019m confused about, mate, is why you\u2019re so set on the fact that Harry\u2019s unattainable. Because the way I see it, is like. He asked you out. He approached you to explain and apologise for the night at the bar. He read and liked your writing. Which, by the way, you haven\u2019t even let me read. He seems like a really intelligent, sweet guy. Who is into you. And you\u2019re just sitting on my couch, whining about how you\u2019ll never have him. So, like, I don\u2019t get it.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn has this really fucking annoying habit of putting things in context and simultaneously making sense. Louis despises it.<br \/><br \/>\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter,\u201d Louis says.<br \/><br \/>\u201cUh,\u201d Zayn says. \u201cActually, yeah, Lou, it does. Because I am always here for you whenever you\u2019re having problems. I will always listen to your bitching and I\u2019ll do whatever I can to help you out, you know that. What pisses me off a bit, though, is when you create these elaborate problems in your head that have no actual basis in reality.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cSo, basically, what you\u2019re saying is that <i>you\u2019re<\/i> the penis ejaculating reality onto me.\u201d Louis\u2019s basic retaliation strategy for Zayn\u2019s logic is to be as bitchy as possible.<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \u201cYeah, Louis, that\u2019s exactly what I said.\u201d<br \/><br \/>They\u2019re quiet for awhile. Louis runs his thumb through the condensation on his beer bottle. He picks at the label, peeling a corner of it off. Sighing, he says, \u201cOkay, Zayn. Alright.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn leans forward a little, ashing his cigarette out the window. He nods a little at Louis with his eyes cast down.<br \/><br \/>Louis licks his lips. \u201cIs there a term for, like, reactionary abandonment complex? Like, naturally I\u2019ve got sidebags full of abandonment issues, but like. Preemptive abandonment. Is that a thing?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn hums around his filter. \u201cI think that\u2019s just. Abandonment complex. I don\u2019t know. But go on.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cYeah,\u201d Louis says, staring at his fingers. \u201cI dunno. I, like, left my family before they could leave me. Leave me <i>again<\/i>. Or whatever. And, like. It\u2019s just easier, you know? To stop something before it\u2019s started. To want the unattainable, because then there\u2019s less disappointment when it doesn\u2019t work out? And I think that\u2019s what I\u2019m doing, with the Harry thing. And that\u2019s not fair to Harry.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks out the window at the setting sun. It catches on his eyelashes. Louis sighs. He doesn\u2019t deserve his friends. His friends don\u2019t deserve having to deal with him.<br \/><br \/>\u201cBut, like,\u201d Zayn says after a moment. \u201cDo you like him? Like, genuinely, Louis, be straight with me. Do you like him aside from the base attraction? Do you think he\u2019s someone you\u2019d want to be with?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Pulling his legs up to his chest, Louis hugs them close. He rests his forehead on his knees. \u201cYeah. I do.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Humming again, Zayn says, \u201cYeah. Then don\u2019t blame you being chickenshit on your daddy issues, or whatever. This is you making an active decision to not take what you want. This is pure fear.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis doesn\u2019t lift his head. \u201cI know,\u201d he says in a small voice. \u201cStop.\u201d<br \/><br \/>There\u2019s a rustling from the window, and then there are arms around him and lips pressing kisses into his hair. \u201cIt\u2019ll be okay, Lou. You\u2019re okay.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little into his knees. Yeah. He\u2019s brilliant.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>It\u2019s Friday night and campus is slowly coming back to life, the library emptying out. The deep, held breath of finals week is being audibly let out.<br \/><br \/>Louis is standing in front of his mirror, frowning, playing with his fringe. He\u2019s wearing black skinnies and his thighs look massive. His shirt won\u2019t sit right on his shoulders. His hair looks fucking stupid.<br \/><br \/>\u201cNiall,\u201d he calls out pathetically.<br \/><br \/>Niall bounds into his room, cheeks already flushed. They\u2019ve been pre-gaming for two hours.<br \/><br \/>\u201cNiall, I look stupid.\u201d Louis pouts at him dramatically.<br \/><br \/>Niall just looks him up and down and laughs. \u201cYou look great, Lou, shut up. You always look great. You look great when you\u2019ve got a fever and, like, leprosy.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs, despite himself. \u201cBut would you fuck me?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Niall wraps his arm around Louis\u2019s waist and tips his head to rest against Louis\u2019s. \u201cSomeday, Lou, it\u2019ll be you and me. A wedding in the country, I think. Maybe the white cliffs of Dover. Honeymoon in the south of France. A brood of children. Dogs. You\u2019ll teach pottery at the local college and I\u2019ll coach U-8 football. We\u2019ll be disgustingly domestic.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles at him. \u201cI love you.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Niall pinches his cheeks. \u201cI love you more. You look gorgeous. Let\u2019s go. We\u2019ll get drunk and dance and generally make merry. Zayn\u2019s meeting us there; I think he\u2019s going with Aiden and Liam and all of them.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cAlright.\u201d Louis nods, patting his pockets. He has his wallet and his phone. \u201cLet\u2019s get wild. Another semester down.\u201d<br \/><br \/>The bar is already packed by the time they get there, but Zayn\u2019s with Aiden, Liam, and Greg, and they managed to snag a table. They all stand up and pass around hugs when Niall and Louis show up.<br \/><br \/>\u201cI\u2019ve heard good things about Ed,\u201d Liam says.<br \/><br \/>Niall nods excitedly. \u201cEd\u2019s brilliant! His EP is on sale tonight. I produced it, you know, no big deal or anything.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Everyone rolls their eyes.<br \/><br \/>Niall laughs. \u201cAnyway! Oi, we need shots. First round is on me, but the next one\u2019s on Louis!\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cHey!\u201d Louis protests.<br \/><br \/>Niall just winks as he walks toward the bar. \u201cIn exchange for being such a whingey bastard all semester!\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis wrinkles his nose at the rest of them. \u201cRude,\u201d he says. Zayn just snorts.<br \/><br \/>After four rounds of shots, Ed finally takes the stage. \u201cHelloooooo, motherfuckers!\u201d he yells into the mic. Everyone yells back. Louis is just a touch past Very Drunk. It\u2019s wonderful.<br \/><br \/>Ed and his band start in on their set and Niall grabs Louis\u2019s hand, dragging him to the dancefloor in front of the stage. Standing behind Louis, Niall wraps his arms around his waist and starts swaying them to the beat. Louis smiles to himself and leans back to rest his head on Niall\u2019s shoulder. \u201cReally love you, man,\u201d he yells into Niall\u2019s ear.<br \/><br \/>Niall smiles down at him and squeezes him a little tighter. \u201cGlad you\u2019re here,\u201d he yells back.<br \/><br \/>Louis grins. He is too. He needed this. He needs to, like, rediscover himself, or something. Find a balance between <i>too<\/i> fun -- cocaine was never his drug, really -- and deathly boring. He needs to learn how to not live in such a state of extremes.<br \/><br \/>Ed\u2019s voice is soothing, accented, and his songs are heavily acoustic. Louis feels his eyelids getting heavy, and Niall is warm behind him. It\u2019s good. It\u2019s the best he\u2019s felt in a long time.<br \/><br \/>Somewhere in the middle of the set, Ed\u2019s talking to the crowd, and he says, \u201cI\u2019m gonna get some help from a mate of mine for this next one. Styles, get your little booty up here.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis\u2019s eyes fly open and his body tenses. Niall\u2019s hands don\u2019t let go of him and Louis is privately grateful for that. Louis watches with wide eyes as Harry walks out onto the stage. He\u2019s wearing a white teeshirt with a big flannel overshirt and impossibly skinny jeans. His hair is a mess and his lips are pulled into a lazy smile as he gives Ed a quick hug.<br \/><br \/>\u201cHey, everyone,\u201d Harry says, voice smooth, low, and slow. \u201c\u2018M Harry, and Ed and I are gonna be singing a song called Little Bird. And I\u2019m gonna go out on a limb here and dedicate it to someone in this audience who probably doesn\u2019t want me to name him. Or even speak to him again, maybe. But. You win some, you lose some, I guess. So, yeah. This is for you.\u201d Harry\u2019s eyes are dark, scanning the crowd with intent, and when they find Louis, his lips quirk up, half rueful, half pleased.<br \/><br \/>Louis has no idea what his face is doing, but he\u2019s pretty sure he\u2019s got an ace impression of a fish going on.<br \/><br \/>The song starts with a catchy beat and jangling guitars and Harry\u2019s voice comes in on the harmonies and Louis wants to close his eyes again, wants to suspend himself in Harry\u2019s low, rough voice, but he can\u2019t. He can\u2019t stop watching Harry. Harry, leaning into the mic, eyes closed. Harry, with his big hands wrapped around the mic stand. Harry\u2019s foot tapping to the beat. Harry under the lights, lit up like he was born to be onstage.<br \/><br \/>Zayn comes up to them sometime in the middle of the song, touching Louis\u2019s elbow in greeting. He doesn\u2019t hide his pleased smile and Louis just gives him a small, warm smile back.<br \/><br \/>When the set\u2019s over, Niall kisses Louis\u2019s hair and melts away into the crowd, probably to get more drinks. Zayn raises an eyebrow at Louis. \u201cGonna talk to him now?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his bottom lip. \u201cI should, probably.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn just nods. \u201cI\u2019m not gonna lecture you, Lou. I\u2019m not some fucking Jedi Master here. Just, you know. Nothing wrong with being happy, and, like. I\u2019m pretty sure that boy wants to make you happy.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \u201cI feel like I\u2019m in some kind of fucking rom-com.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cWhatever,\u201d Zayn says. \u201cAppreciate it. Those generally have happy endings.\u201d He gives Louis and encouraging slap on the arse. \u201cGo find your boy.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cYeah,\u201d he mumbles. Zayn goes off back to the table and Louis stands in the middle of the fading crowd on the dancefloor. He shakes himself and steels up to go find Harry. He takes a step forward and promptly bumps straight into a broad body.<br \/><br \/>\u201cOh, so--\u201d Louis stops. Harry\u2019s standing in front of him, bright red lip pulled between his teeth, eyes wide. Nervous.<br \/><br \/>\u201cHi,\u201d Louis says.<br \/><br \/>\u201cHi,\u201d Harry says back, smiling a little. \u201cI\u2019m, um. Glad you\u2019re here.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cYeah,\u201d Louis says, shaking his head. \u201cYou\u2019re good. Shit, Harry. You\u2019re really good.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Laughing softly, Harry looks at his feet. \u201cUm. Thanks. Can we, um, talk?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis nods and grabs Harry\u2019s hand, pulling him toward the door. Once they\u2019re outside, the cold air hits Louis like a tidal wave. He shivers a little.<br \/><br \/>\u201cSo,\u201d Louis says. \u201cI want to apologise, I guess.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry\u2019s head jerks up, alarmed. \u201cNo, no, Louis, wait, I want to--\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis cuts him off, holding his hand up. \u201cNo, me first.\u201d He waits for Harry to nod before continuing. \u201cI fucked up a lot here. I excused it at the beginning with some sort of, like, justification that I was your TA and you were untouchable, which was true, but beyond that I was just, like, scared, I guess. And I wasn\u2019t open with you about that, I guess. Which. I mean. We weren\u2019t anything. And I guess we\u2019re still not? Unless you want to be. But, like, I don\u2019t know. You got too close to parts of me I don\u2019t really let people see and that freaked me out, because I kind of liked it. So. I\u2019m kind of a mess and I pushed you away without really explaining why. So. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry\u2019s fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, staring down. He nods. \u201cIt\u2019s... no, Louis. I mean, I kind of figured I was pushing a little too hard. Ed and I have a joke that you\u2019re kind of a startled deer.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cOi,\u201d Louis says. Harry smiles.<br \/><br \/>\u201cNo, but like. I don\u2019t know. Seeing you that night at the bar kind of shook me a little, because I did really want to be with you. I <i>do<\/i> really want to be with you. But I think I didn\u2019t really take it seriously? Or take <i>you<\/i> seriously, I guess? Because, shit, Louis. You\u2019re older, gorgeous, brilliant, hilarious... you\u2019re like...\u201d Harry trails off, laughing to himself. \u201cYou\u2019re like perfect.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis huffs a small laugh and nudges his knee against Harry\u2019s. \u201cThat was pretty much my exact justification for why <i>you<\/i> wouldn\u2019t want to be with <i>me<\/i>. Except, like, reversed. And younger. God, Harry.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles at him again, all wide green eyes and pale skin and dark curls. Louis has something squeezing at his gut and for once, he\u2019s not entirely sure that it\u2019s unpleasant. He takes a chance and reaches his hand out to grab at Harry\u2019s. \u201cSo,\u201d Louis says, smiling down at his feet. \u201cYou still want to take me out to dinner?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Taking a step closer until their toes are touching and Louis has to tilt his head back to meet Harry\u2019s eyes, Harry says, \u201cI think I\u2019d maybe like nothing more.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis drops Harry\u2019s hand and takes a deep breath before settling his hands on Harry\u2019s hips, still gazing up into his eyes. Harry\u2019s lips widen into a small, private smile and he brings his own hands up to slot his fingers between the gaps of Louis\u2019s ribs.<br \/><br \/>\u201cWill you think I\u2019m easy if I kiss you before I take you out?\u201d Harry whispers.<br \/><br \/>Louis pretends to think about it for a moment, before saying, \u201cNah, I\u2019ll let it slide this time.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cOh, good,\u201d Harry murmurs, and leans in.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:15425","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15425.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=15425"}}],"title":"a runaway american dream (hs\/lt)","published":"2013-03-01T14:39:41Z","updated":"2013-03-01T19:09:04Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: a runaway american dream<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~16,000<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets. <br \/><b>warnings<\/b>: instances of homophobia, brief use of a slur.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: thank you so much to everyone who read over parts of this and reassured me it wasn't shit or a lost cause. i am tentatively proud of the way this turned out and i have so much hope that you all like it. <br \/><br \/>(quick logistical detail: the age to rent a car in the united states is 25. neither harry nor louis are 25 in this fic. please suspend disbelief regarding that, i apologise. and also, i have never driven route 66, so there's that.)<br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/>The problem, Louis thinks, is that he and Harry tell each other everything. It's become, like, a <i>thing<\/i>. It started when they were twelve and Louis was burning up inside with his secrets and Harry curled up next to him, petting his hair, all big eyes and turned down red mouth, begging Louis to tell him what was wrong. <br \/><br \/>So it's a thing, now. They have a night, every year, where they stay in and eat pizza and watch some sad movie probably targeted at a female demographic and tell secrets they can't keep inside anymore. <br \/><br \/>At twelve, Louis told Harry he liked boys. At fifteen, Harry told Louis he kissed Jessica even though she was dating Ethan. At seventeen, Louis told Harry he let Jackson fuck him. At eighteen, Harry told Louis he accidentally read his dad's email and found out his dad had been cheating on his mum. At twenty, Louis told Harry his family couldn't afford for him to go back to uni. <br \/><br \/>And now Louis is twenty one and Harry's sprawled out on the couch next to him and Blue Valentine is on the telly, volume down and unnoticed, because all Louis can see are Harry's shining eyes and all Louis can hear is Harry's secret ringing in his ears. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou?\" Harry asks, kicking his feet out at Louis's knee. \"You hear me?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows tightly and smiles, as big as he can, immediately crawling over to drop heavily on top of Harry, rubbing his nose into his cheek. Harry's arms come up around him, digging into his sides, tickling. \"I'm so proud of you,\" Louis whispers. \"God, H, that's amazing.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry lets out a pleased little breath and Louis closes his eyes as he feels it ruffle through his hair. <br \/><br \/>\"Harvard business school, mate,\" Louis repeats, letting it dig deeper into his chest, sinking into his body. \"That's so...\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says, shaking his head a little bit. Louis rests his forehead in the stretch of muscle between Harry's neck and shoulder, biting down softly. \"I can't believe it,\" Harry breathes out.<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs lightly, sitting up on Harry's thighs. He looks down at him, still stretching a grin across his face. \"I can,\" he says softly. \"You're brilliant, H, you deserve this.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes a little, blushing. He flicks Louis lightly on the thigh. \"Anyway, your turn.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and slides off Harry's lap into the gap between his skinny legs and the back of the couch. He stares at the television. \"Ryan Gosling is hot,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>He can <i>feel<\/i> Harry's eyes rolling. \"Not a secret.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little. He shrugs. \"Haven't got one this year, I guess.\" He chances a glance at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry stares at him, eyes narrowed. \"Bullshit. How are you and Aiden?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs again, picking at the seam of his trousers. \"I dunno. It's ending, I think.\" <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Harry sits up, looking intently at Louis's profile. \"I thought you guys were, like, solid.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Louis chuckles dryly. \"No, I don't know. It's fine, but he's moving to London in a few months and we've kind of talked about it, you know. It's casual.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's hand snakes out to grab Louis's, intwining their fingers. \"I'm sorry, Lou.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and tugs a little on Harry's fingers. \"Shut up, god, it's fine. We need to celebrate your news! I have some champagne, I think, hold on.\" He heaves himself off the couch and pads into the kitchen. <br \/><br \/>It's all autopilot now: he pulls open the fridge and grabs one of the bottles of champagne that lives in the door, setting it on the counter and reaching up for two pint glasses. As he starts unwrapping the foil around the mouth of the bottle, his hands start shaking and Harry's words sink in. <br \/><br \/>Harry's <i>leaving<\/i>. Not to London, not to some fancy job somewhere in the UK, not even to Europe. Harry's leaving to <i>America<\/i> and Louis is rotting in a dreary northern city with a boyfriend he doesn't particularly care about in the mornings, a laughable amount of education, and a pathetic job as a receptionist. <br \/><br \/>And it's not like Louis wasn't expecting this, in all honesty. Harry's always been so smart, so devoted, so encouraged. Harry's never been anything but shining; brilliant at everything, smart and loving and wonderful. Louis knew, somewhere inside him, that Harry would grow up and out and away, away from his deadbeat, directionless best friend. Louis would never, ever want to drag him down; keep him from that potential. It's just, knowing and preparing are two horribly different concepts, and Louis is not <i>prepared<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Louis's secret is that he is in love with Harry. And for the first time since he was twelve, that's going to stay a secret. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>A month later, when June warmth was finally reaching Manchester, Louis knocks on the door to Harry and Niall's flat, rolling his lips into his mouth. <br \/><br \/>Harry pulls the door open and Louis glances at him, breaking into a grin. \"Love the hair, mate,\" he says, pushing past Harry and into the kitchen, digging into Niall's cupboard of food, surfacing with a bag of cheetos. <br \/><br \/>Harry smirks, hand coming up to adjust the ribbon tying his curls back. \"Thanks, I'm thinking this is really gonna be the fashion in the fall, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods, glancing around the flat, noticing the half-full boxes and general chaos. He swallows the handful of cheetos in his mouth and says nonchalantly, \"Packing, then?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"Yeah, lease is up on the 15th and Niall's got Zayn moving in, so, yeah, figured I'd stay with my mum till I leave.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis's lips quirk up as much as he can make them. He nods slightly. \"So, um, hey,\" he starts. <br \/><br \/>Harry quirks an eyebrow at him and turns back to a box labeled BOOKS. \"What's up, Lou? Haven't seen you much lately.\" His voice is a little curious, a little hurt, and a little cold. <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip again. \"Yeah, sorry, been working a lot. I, um. Well, you might laugh at me a bit, but like. I...\" he trails off, staring into the bag of crisps and kicking at the cupboard under the counter that never stays closed. <br \/><br \/>Harry turns back to him, eyebrows furrowed, and pads back into the kitchen, leaning against the fridge across from Louis. \"What's up, Lou?\" he says again. <br \/><br \/>Letting out a slightly breathy laugh, shaking his head a bit. He scuffs the toe of his shitty, beat-up vans against the shitty, beat-up linoleum. \"This is dumb, but like. I've kind of... been thinking? That maybe we could do something? Before you go off to your big American life. You know?\" He looks back up at Harry, fingers twisting together. <br \/><br \/>Harry's eyebrows raise and his mouth parts slightly. \"Yeah, of course! Of course, Lou, god. Why's that dumb, you idiot?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, scrunching his nose at Harry and smiling, closed-mouth and small. \"Yeah, I mean. It's just I've been planning a bit? And like. Saving some money, I guess. And I was thinking, like. Have you seen that episode of An Idiot Abroad? Where Pilkington does Route 66?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Uh, yeah, I think so...\" Harry says slowly, not looking any less confused. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods, dropping his eyes again. \"I was kind of thinking maybe we could do that?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry blinks. Once, then twice. Louis scrunches his face up again. After a moment, Harry speaks, \"You wanna do Route 66 with me?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis's fingers are losing blood from twisting together. \"A last hurrah kind of thing, you know? It'd be cool. And get you all Americanised.\" He laughs a little. \"We could leave, like, soon, maybe? Fly into Chicago and rent a car and, y'know, take off.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's staring at him blankly. \"But... your job? And, like, that's expensive, Lou, how're we gonna...\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says quickly. \"I've been saving up and I've looked into flights and they're not too bad if we don't fly in on a weekend and if we get a small car and stay in cheap motels and eat shitty food we should be okay, I think?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's starting to nod, a slow smile stretching across his lips. \"I've got some money saved up too, like. I was gonna use it to fly back here for Christmas, but I'm sure my stepdad can fly me out if they end up missing me, right?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis feels himself relax, feels his fingers slow their twisting, feels his shoulders slump back down from around his ears, feels his forehead smooth out. He beams back at Harry. \"It'll be the best summer ever, mate. Legendary.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins back, giddy suddenly, and grabs Louis's hand, tugging him into his body. He wraps his arms around Louis, burying his face into Louis's neck. \"Love you.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis runs his hand down the curve of Harry's back, smiling tightly at the wall behind him. \"Love you too, H.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Chicago is <i>hot as fuck<\/i> in mid-June, it turns out. Louis was not expecting this. All he knows of Chicago is gangster movies and, like, snow. Or something. He's sweating through his thin teeshirt and his stupid khaki trousers and Harry's next to him, looking haggard and tired. <br \/><br \/>Harry pulls his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face and Louis very carefully and very deliberately saunters over to the terminal map, trying to figure out where the fuck car rental is. Harry comes up behind him, resting his elbow on Louis's shoulder. <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face, but says, \"So, baggage claim is that way\u2013\" he points, \"\u2013and the rental agency is in the next terminal, I guess? So we'll have to take a train thing. Sound good?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's head is resting on the arm he has on Louis's shoulder, but he nods, hair brushing Louis's neck. \"Sounds good, Lou,\" he mumbles. <br \/><br \/>They end up with an older model of a Toyota Corolla. Louis nudges Harry over to the car as he signs all the paperwork, watching out of the corner of his eye as Harry drops his bags into the boot and then slumps in the passenger seat. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods his thanks at the attendant, grasping the keys in his sweaty hand and making his way over to the car. As he slides in, Harry cracks a bleary eye in his direction. \"You good to drive on the wrong side of the road, mate?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a tired half-smile. \"Think so. Hopefully we won't have to make too many turns, yeah?\" Harry quirks his lips up slightly. <br \/><br \/>\"We'll kip before we do anything, superstar,\" Louis says quietly. Harry nods, eyes closing. Louis stares at him for a moment, the late afternoon Chicago sun beating hotly down on the car and making Harry's pale skin bright, as if lit up from the inside. There's sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat, and his cheeks are slightly red, sunburnt already. There are lines on his forehead and around his eyes, as he squints against the brightness, too tired to find his sunglasses. Louis licks his lips and takes a deep breath, shaking himself slightly. There's a six hour time difference; he's knackered. They need a cheap motel and hamburgers, like, three hours ago. He sighs and shifts the car into gear, backing out of the car park. <br \/><br \/>Louis finds an old, seedy motel within a half an hour. It advertises cable and a forty-five dollar single room. Pulling up next to the office, he nudges Harry awake with his elbow before gently brushing Harry's hair off his face. <br \/><br \/>Louis hates himself a little when Harry's eyes open, bleary and tired, and Louis can't control the soft smile he knows should be giving him away. <br \/><br \/>Harry doesn't notice, just smiles back. \"Here?\" he asks, raspy. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"Gonna go grab a room, yeah? Wanna come or stay here?\"<br \/><br \/>Arching his back off the seat, stretching his long arms, and letting out a groan, Harry smacks his lips together, finally saying, \"I'll come with.\" He unfolds himself out of the car and throws his arm around Louis's shoulder, leaning heavily into him. Louis wraps his own arm around Harry's waist, taking the weight. <br \/><br \/>A woman who has smoked herself into middle age raises one heavily penciled-in eyebrow at them as they approach the desk. \"Can I help you?\" she drawls. <br \/><br \/>\"Er, yeah,\" Louis says and watches the woman's expression change as she catalogues his accent. \"We'd like a room, please.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Single or double?\" she asks, glancing between Louis and Harry, eyes lingering where they're pressed together. Louis's chest feels tight and he licks his lips again, every point of contact between him and Harry alight with nerves. <br \/><br \/>\"Single, please,\" he says, as casual as he can manage. He thinks he sounds breathless. He possibly hates himself a lot. Harry's half asleep on his shoulder, breath heavy and stale on his neck. <br \/><br \/>It's hot and it's humid and Louis has his favourite boy slumped into him and they're going to be <i>sharing a bed<\/i> and Louis has to close his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed. <br \/><br \/>The woman behind the counter just gives them another eyebrow raise and snaps her gum, sliding a paper for Louis to sign as he passes over his credit card. She drops a room key on the counter and gives Louis a long look and a cheeky wink as he grabs it. <br \/><br \/>Pressing the key into Harry's hand, he nods down the long stretch of doors as they exit the office. \"Go find the room and hop in the shower, yeah? I'll bring the car around,\" he says and Harry nods, eyes heavy-lidded and smile sweet. Louis watches him walk down the corridor for a moment before sinking back behind the wheel. <br \/><br \/>When Louis stumbles into the room with their bags, he hears the shower running, Harry's clothes forming a path on the floor to the bathroom. Louis sinks down on the bed, laying back and sighing deeply. The air is damp, but luckily there's air conditioning, and the sweat on Louis's skin prickles, drying into a tacky sheen on his skin. <br \/><br \/>He feels proper disgusting. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry's voice comes rasping from the doorway to the bath. He's smiling at Louis. Louis blinks a few times.<br \/><br \/>\"Must've drifted off,\" Louis says, pulling a face at Harry. He takes a deep breath and hoists himself to his feet, toeing off his shoes and pulling his shirt over his head. \"Shower,\" he mumbles. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods, patting Louis's side as he walks past him into the bathroom. <br \/><br \/>When Louis finally scrubs the interminable flight and sticky American summer off his skin, he pads back into the main room, digging out a pair of clean pants. Harry's spread across three quarters of the tiny bed, breathing deeply. <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and eyes the tiny sliver of mattress left for him. He rolls his eyes to the sky and mouths <i>why<\/i> before climbing in, shoving Harry's warm body a little. <br \/><br \/>\"Hmm?\" Harry sounds, grumbling a little. <br \/><br \/>\"Budge over,\" Louis whispers. \"You've got not even half the arse I have, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry smirks slightly, eyes still closed, and he scoots back to free roughly half the bed, and Louis tweaks a curl in thanks. He rolls over, putting his back to Harry and closes his eyes, taking slow and steady breaths until he feels himself relax. <br \/><br \/>And then, of course, that is kicked to hell because Harry moves suddenly, moves till he's pressed against Louis's back, curved around him, and sliding a hand around his waist, pulling him into Harry's body. <br \/><br \/>Louis's eyes fly open and his muscles tense immediately. <br \/><br \/>There's no sound in the room but Harry's even breathing, quiet, hot, and damp against Louis's neck. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The sun beats in through the dirty window at half eleven in the morning and Louis wakes up sweating, sticking to the sheets and to Harry, still curled around him. Groaning, he buries his face in the pillow for a moment, before taking a deep breath and rolling out of bed. He washes his face and brushes his teeth, staring at himself in the mirror. Jet-lag isn't a great look for him, he decides, as he lazily gels his hair into a halfhearted quiff. <br \/><br \/>\"Oi,\" he calls, stumbling back into the bedroom. \"Lazybones.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry doesn't stir. Louis rolls his eyes and grabs his calf, shaking. \"H,\" he says. \"Get up.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry mumbles a bit, cracking an eye, and then flopping over onto his stomach. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis raises his voice. \"We've got an itinerary, mate, get the fuck up.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You're the devil,\" Harry groans into the mattress. \"Feel like I've been hit by a truck.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Come on, princess,\" Louis says. \"We've got lands to conquer. <i>Go west, young man<\/i>, and all that.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry finally sits up, scrubbing his hands over his face. \"Yeah, Lou, you're a real literary genius.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck off,\" Louis replies mildly. \"Get dressed. We'll get some breakfast on the road. We'll check out Grant Park, I think, and then head on to Dwight and Odell, probably stop in Pontiac for lunch.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him. \"You've really got this planned, haven't you?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"It's gonna be legendary.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Alright,\" Harry says, rolling out of bed. \"Let's do this. Middle America, here we come.\" <br \/><br \/>The temperature is already climbing once they check out of the motel, and the stale air in the tiny car is suffocating. They decide to get as far as they can with just the windows down, avoiding the use of the air conditioner, and Louis can't stop smiling over at Harry. <br \/><br \/>\"Calif<i>ornia<\/i>, here we <i>comeeee<\/i>,\" Harry yells, sticking his head out the window with a whoop, hair whipping across his face. He leans back into the car, grinning giddily at Louis. \"Everything is so <i>American<\/i>,\" he exclaims. \"Look at these <i>signs<\/i>, mate, I feel like we're in a Jack Kerouac novel.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks innocently. \"Who?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just laughs, throwing his feet up on the dash and reclining his chair. \"Man, cornfields and all. We're gonna be proper outsiders, you know? We should stop at bars and see what American girls are into. They'll probably think we're cultured as hell.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis wrinkles his nose a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. \"I'll leave that one to you, love. You'll just have to give me the PG-13 version later, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles over at him, and Louis can see his eyes crinkling behind his wayfarers. \"Come on, mate. What's more American than a threesome? I'm sure you could get into that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Actually,\" Louis says, rolling his eyes as he stares at the road, \"I'm pretty sure that's a French thing.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs, defeated. \"Fine. Well, then, you can pick up blokes and I'll pick up chicks and we'll get the whole spectrum of experience.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says dryly, \"I am pretty sure we're in redneck country. I can live with a few weeks of celibacy, don't you worry about me.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's quiet, thinking about this for a moment, until, \"Okay, yeah, don't want your pretty face to get broken. When we get to California, though, mate, I expect you to go buckwild.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes again and tosses Harry his iPod. \"Choose something. Some road music, though, none of your weird faucet-dripping, alt-hardcore, undefined-genre shit.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry snorts, but obliges, scrolling through, muttering, \"Well, people will think <i>I'm<\/i> cultured at least,\" as he settles on Bruce Springsteen. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances at Harry, grinning hugely, and Harry reaches over to grab Louis's right hand off the wheel, holding it tight. <br \/><br \/>\"Cos tramps like us, baby, we were born to run!\" Louis yells over at him and Harry laces their fingers together. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis stops at every roadside attraction that catches Harry's attention, and by the fifth, Harry proclaims, \"I'm going to start a bolo tie collection.\" <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Harry<\/i>,\" Louis groans. \"This is not the eighties and I still have to be <i>seen<\/i> with you.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry beams at him and picks up a rainbow one from the display at some kitchy cowboy -themed market sprawled along the highway in rural Illinois. He holds it up to Louis's throat. \"Suits you, I think.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis bats him away. \"Save your money, babe.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just laughs and scampers out the door onto the rickety boardwalk, staring up at the old-time wooden fa\u00e7ade. \"This is amazing,\" he says, and the sun is catching his curls and his skin in his white tank top and cut-off shorts and Louis stands in the doorway, leant up against the jam, smiling over at him. <br \/><br \/>\"You're insane,\" he mutters through his smile, and Harry beams back. <br \/><br \/>\"You know what we need?\" Harry asks. Louis arches an eyebrow. \"A polaroid camera!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Shit,\" Louis says, hopping down the steps to get to Harry. \"Can't believe I didn't think of that!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just shakes his head, wrapping an arm around Louis's shoulders as they walk across the gravel to the car. \"It's not all on you, Lou, just relax and have some fun.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says quietly. \"Just want this to be perfect.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry stops and turns Louis to face him, pushing his wayfarers into his hair and sliding Louis's aviators down his nose to see his eyes. \"It's gonna be perfect no matter what, I promise. Nothin' but the open road and my very best boy. What could be better?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis squints over at him, trying to control his face, but finding he can't. He whacks Harry lightly in the stomach, saying, \"Gonna give me premature wrinkles, mate. Can't fuckin' stop smiling.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and curls his arm around Louis's waist, pulling him into his body. He smells like wind and dust and Harry. Louis rests his forehead on Harry's shoulder and pinches at his side. \"Gonna get looks,\" he mutters. <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head, but lets him go. \"From what, the roadkill?\" he says, glancing around. <br \/><br \/>\"Let's get to St. Louis,\" Louis says. \"It was named after me, you know. Only bastardised pronunciation. Arseholes.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>They end up driving through St. Louis, only stopping at Ted Drewes' for frozen custard and a CVS off Tucker Boulevard for a polaroid camera and a stockpile of film. Harry ends up getting two custards, only so he can push one in Louis's face, smearing it up his nose. <br \/><br \/>\"I hate you!\" Louis shrieks, trying to blow out the mess into a napkin, only managing to spread it across his face. <br \/><br \/>Harry explodes into cackles, flopping across the bench they're on. \"I'm a master.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You're a twat,\" Louis says, getting up to grab more napkins from the counter. The spotty teenager working the window gives him an unimpressed look and Louis just bats his eyelashes coyly. <br \/><br \/>When he gets back to Harry, he's still laughing around the rest of his cone. \"A familiar look for you, I expect. White stuff across your face.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis kicks him in the shin, hard. \"You're awful.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just grins up at him. <br \/><br \/>The sun's setting and everything is orange and gold, shining across Harry's face and Louis can see his own stupid fond expression reflecting in his sunglasses. He's quiet for a moment. \"I'm glad we did this, H,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry's face goes sombre. \"I'm gonna miss you so much, Lou,\" he says softly, and that\u2013 <br \/><br \/>That's the first time either of them have acknowledged it out loud. Acknowledged this whole thing is a <i>farewell<\/i> trip; acknowledged that for the first time since they were eight, they're not going to be a quick drive or walk from each other; acknowledged that this is a real thing that is going to affect them. <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows, purses his lips, and nods shortly. He looks away for a moment, balling his fists and then forcing himself to relax. \"Hey,\" he says, gentle, nudging at Harry's ankle with his foot, \"let's find a motel, yeah? I'm knackered.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry gives a small smile and stands up, stretching. \"Want me to drive?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"Tomorrow, maybe,\" he says. \"I can make it for now.\" <br \/><br \/>They find a run-down old inn called Thunderbird Inn about twenty miles outside of St. Louis, and Louis pulls into the gravel car park with relief. <br \/><br \/>They get dirty looks from the old man chewing on a cigar behind the counter when they ask for a single, but Louis just bites his lip and signs the receipt, taking the key and shoving Harry out the door, ignoring the murmur of <i>faggot<\/i> coming from the desk.<br \/><br \/>\"What a dick,\" Harry mutters, and Louis just rolls his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"You're so cute and na\u00efve.\" He grabs their bags from the boot and tosses Harry one. \"I call first shower.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods, brow still furrowed, lower lip pulled between his teeth. He keeps glancing back at the door to the office, as if he wants some sort of fisticuffs at sundown scene. Louis sighs, pulling Harry into the room. \"Can't start a fight with every bigot, mate, trust me.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"People can't talk to you like that,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis ruffles Harry's hair as he walks toward the bathroom. \"Pretty sure he was talking to both of us, darlin',\" he says lightly. \"See if anything's on the telly, I'll be out in a minute.\"<br \/><br \/>When Louis exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam, feeling infinitely more human, Harry's spread across the bed in just his pants, a baseball game on the television. \"I'm trying to get it,\" he explains when he sees Louis's eyebrow raised. <br \/><br \/>\"Get it?\" Louis repeats, digging around in his bag for pants and joggers. \"What's there to get? Fat men swinging sticks at balls.\" He pauses. \"Sounds like weird fetish porn, actually.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry smirks, but gestures at the screen with the remote. \"Nah, I mean like. It's a huge thing here, isn't it? So there has to be something to it. Strategy and whatnot.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"People also like cricket, mate, there's no accounting.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says absently. The game is between St. Louis and Atlanta, and Atlanta is up 6-2. \"See, in football, that'd be game over. But here it's only the second inning? And there are nine innings? People actually sit through three hours of this, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"It's all very philosophical, I'm sure. Maybe after six beers, it's thrilling, I don't know. Go shower. You'll feel better.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods, tearing his eyes away and swats Louis on the arse as he passes. \"Tell me if anything exciting happens.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What, like a bomb dropping on the stadium?\" Louis winks and curls on the bed, stretching out his back. <br \/><br \/>When Harry's out of the shower he drops onto the bed, brushing close to Louis, shoulders aligned. Louis glances down the bed, frowning when his feet barely come to Harry's ankles. He points his toes and scoots down a little, trying to seem casual. Harry looks over at him and follows his eyeline, breaking into a huge, triumphant grin. <br \/><br \/>\"Tiny Lou, tiny Lou!\" he cries, poking Louis in the stomach. Louis pouts, squirming away.<br \/><br \/>\"S'not fair,\" Louis whines. \"I'm older and infinitely better looking!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry tilts his head, pretending to consider this. \"I'm pretty sure that makes this very fair. You're like my little trophy wife. I can throw you around and you fit nicely on my arm.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You can <i>not<\/i> throw me around,\" Louis says, elbowing him sharply in the ribs. Harry just laughs, turning on his side and throwing an arm around Louis's waist, petting his stomach a little. <br \/><br \/>\"You keep telling yourself that, baby,\" he says, laughing.<br \/><br \/>Louis makes a face and hopes the glow from the television isn't enough to illuminate how his cheeks heat up. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next morning comes too quickly. Louis's alarm goes off at 9:30, and he blinks awake in much the same position as the morning before: Harry's front pressed all along his back, fitting to his curves, arse to groin, with Harry's big hand wrapped around Louis's front, open palm against his stomach, and his other arm under the pillow Louis has his head on. <br \/><br \/>Clenching his jaw and closing his eyes against the rush of want that clouds his vision, Louis bites his lip and gently climbs out of the bed, careful not to jostle Harry. He pads into the bathroom, glaring at his reflection in the mirror, and stands over the toilet, willing his erection to calm down enough for him to pee. <br \/><br \/>He rests a hand on the wall above the toilet, leaning into it, other hand curled around himself, hating himself slightly as he starts to stroke lightly. He turns his head to bite at his bicep, digging his teeth in. He has to make it hurt, he reasons. Can't enjoy this. <br \/><br \/>It's not like it's the first time Louis has wanked to Harry, because Harry's always <i>been there<\/i>, just out of reach but so goddamn <i>pretty<\/i> in his whole unattainable glory, but it's never been, like, <i>okay<\/i> with him. It's never been something he's accepted or allowed to happen very often. It usually comes in flashes of Harry's face, of his arms, stomach, hipbones. He doesn't allow himself to think of Harry kissing him or touching him or inside him. He just doesn't. <br \/><br \/>Except now, now with Harry handprints still warm on his stomach and the memory of Harry's hair still tickling his neck fill his mind and he imagines Harry on top of him, holding him against the mattress with his broad body, arms straining as his hips buck into Louis, filling him up, with his green eyes staring down into Louis's, face flushed with the effort. <br \/><br \/>Louis lets out a whimper against his skin, sparks behind his eyelids and he finishes quickly, squeezing tight, pace punishing as he comes into the toilet. There's going to be a bruise on his arm, teethprints deep and fiery red already. He closes his eyes and pees quickly. He washes his hands and avoids his reflection. <br \/><br \/>Harry's awake when Louis gets back to the bed and he smirks up at Louis from where he's laying on his back. \"Sweet dreams then, eh?\" he says and Louis burns bright red. He points at Harry sternly. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't say a word.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just laughs and rolls out of bed, picking up his cutoffs and sliding them on. \"It's cool, me too.\" He arches an eyebrow in Louis's direction and Louis glances past him to the nightstand, where there's a balled up tissue next to the lamp. <br \/><br \/>\"Gross,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" Harry reaches over and tosses it at him. \"Glass houses, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis dodges it and slides on his own shorts, grabbing a clean t-shirt from his bag. \"I at least was hygienic about it, you animal.\" He focuses intently on sliding on the shirt and grabs his hair gel, walking back to the bathroom. He focuses intently on styling his hair. He focuses intently on their plan for today. He focuses intently on anything that's not the image of Harry Styles jacking off on the bed where Louis just slept all night in Harry's arms. <br \/><br \/>It's just gone ten when they make it out to the car. Harry slides behind the wheel, and Louis rolls down the windows and opens the sunroof, propping his feet up on the dash. The polaroid camera is sitting between them in the gear-shift console. He grabs it, focusing on Harry, his hair tied back with a bright pink ribbon, sunglasses making his face look older, tougher. Louis smirks. It's a stark juxtaposition, but so is everything about Harry. The prison tattoos with his cuddly personality; the long, lean frame with the soft curls; the strong jaw and full lips. <br \/><br \/>Harry is just the best thing Louis has ever seen and he doesn't know what to do about it. <br \/><br \/>So he takes a picture as Harry merges onto the highway. The sun's coming from behind them, casting long shadows across their bodies. It's already burning hot, sure to be miserable, but Harry's face is calm, concentrated on the backwards setup of the car, the road. His lower lip is pulled into his mouth and his arms are bare, huge hands curled around the wheel. Louis turns himself so he's leaning against the passenger door and tilts his body to face Harry, holding the camera up to his eye. <br \/><br \/>He slides the developing photo into the glove box, and says, \"You look like James Dean.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's mouth curves up. \"You flatterer.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hums in agreement. \"Well, I mean, if James Dean were a girl, probably.\" <br \/><br \/>Laughing, Harry just shakes his head. \"Music, Lou. And none of your top 40, bubblegum pop, ridiculous dance music shit.\" <br \/><br \/>\"So demanding,\" Louis mutters, but scrolls through, settling on Ryan Adams. He turns the volume up and settles back into the seat, holding tightly to his map. The wind is whipping through the open windows, throwing his hair everywhere, and he squints down. \"We should have stopped in Eureka, Missouri,\" he says to Harry. \"Meramec River. Maybe we could have skinnydipped.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry looks over at him. \"Are we past it? Where is it?\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's in St. Louis County. The bridge we went over last night, looking for the motel. We could go back?\" Louis already knows what the answer will be even before Harry flicks the turn signal to exit. He smiles to himself. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The river is icy-cold and definitely not meant for skinnydipping. It's moving quickly, current strong.<br \/><br \/>\"Is this the mighty Mississippi?\" Harry asks excitedly. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him and then looks at the sign that proudly states MERAMEC RIVER. \"I think, Harry,\" he says, \"this might be the Meramec river.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's only in ankle-deep, at the very edge, but he looks as if he's about to dive in. Louis watches the fast stream of water rushing past and takes a stick. \"Watch, Haz,\" he says, as he tosses the stick as far as he can into the water. Within seconds, it's out of view, shooting down the river. <br \/><br \/>Harry stares after it. \"You're like me mum.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Just don't want you getting any ideas. Your mum would have me slaughtered if you died on this little adventure.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Legendary,\" Harry says back, smiling into the sun. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"Legendary.\" He gingerly tiptoes across the rocks to stand next to Harry, cursing quietly.<br \/><br \/>Harry grabs his hand and takes a step deeper. \"Shit shit shit,\" he mutters. \"Bloody cold, innit?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis opens his mouth to agree, but there's a loud shout behind them. They whip around, staring at a massively round park ranger on the embankment. <br \/><br \/>\"You can't be down there,\" he's yelling. \"This is not a designated tourist area! You trying to get <i>killed<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis chances a glance at Harry and as soon as their eyes meet they burst into giggles, dashing out of the water and grabbing their shoes, climbing up the steep bank to their car. The ranger watches them go, a distinct call of <i>fucking tourists<\/i> chasing them. <br \/><br \/>Harry's still laughing when he dives behind the wheel, slamming the door and jamming the key in the ignition, barely waiting for Louis to be fully in the car before pealing out of the shoulder of the road.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh my god,\" Louis says, gasping for breath. \"I think that was Peppa Pig's creepy uncle.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Jesus <i>fuck<\/i>,\" Harry exclaims, bursting into another round of giggles. \"What an image.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis glances down and smiles, pleased. He grabs the camera again, taking another photo. The sun is much more overhead now, giving Harry a yellow glow, and his face is open with laughter, limbs relaxed.<br \/><br \/>\"How're we gonna split these pictures up?\" Harry asks after a few minutes of silence. They're whipping past open fields now. Louis is counting the different variations of farm animals, but he has to give up because apparently the only goddamn animal in this country is cow. <br \/><br \/>\"What do you mean?\" Louis responds absently, sunwarm and calm. <br \/><br \/>\"Like, when the trip's over? We're only gonna have one copy of each photo.\" Harry's hands are tight on the steering wheel again and Louis tenses too. Another reminder. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says. He pauses. \"I get the ones of you. You can have the ones of me. We can scan them all, too, so at least we'll be able to keep them all somewhere. But I want the ones of you.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry bites at his lip. \"Yeah,\" he says quietly. \"That sounds good. I want the ones of you.\"<br \/><br \/>They're silent again, but it's not relaxed. <br \/><br \/>Then, \"For my wank bank, obviously.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis throws his head back and laughs, punching Harry in the shoulder. \"Don't get my hopes up, love.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's laughing now, too. \"Aw, baby, you know I'm always good for it.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis keeps chuckling, but a vise is around his chest, squeezing. \"Good for a wank? Yeah, mate, I've noticed.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just waggles his eyebrows and they steady on the ribbon of highway. Louis rests his arm out the window, catching at the air with his fingers, staving off the sadness as best as he's ever been able to. <br \/><br \/>It seems like Harry's trying, too, but it's always been harder for him. <br \/><br \/>His right hand sneaks over and grabs Louis's left as the song changes and Louis just holds on. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The third night is spent in Joplin, Missouri, and Harry sings Me and Bobby McGee until Louis hits him with the folded map. <br \/><br \/>\"Was feelin' as faded as my jeaaaans,\" Harry croons on the fourth morning from the passenger seat. He grabs the camera and Louis tries to bite back a smile but fails miserably as Harry snaps a picture. <br \/><br \/>\"You look a proper Marc Jacobs model, Lou,\" Harry comments. \"Those cheekbones, the jawline, the aviators. The fringe. Proper high fashion.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis just rolls his eyes, rasping out, \"Feelin' good was good enough for me,\" and Harry joins in, singing, \"Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.\"<br \/><br \/>They fade into silence, letting Janis' greatest hits album narrate the drive. The heat is already coming off the road in waves, rippling the air, and Louis wonders when he'll get used to this. <br \/><br \/>Harry hums along a little, staring out the window and tapping his fingers to the beat. \"Hey,\" he says suddenly, \"we should go to a real biker bar tonight.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Sweetcheeks, you're still a baby in this country, remember?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"If they card, <i>which they won't<\/i> \u2013 christ, it's like you've never even seen any movies \u2013 we'll scarper. But we should try.\"<br \/><br \/>And Louis is powerless, here in this moment, this strange country with this beautiful boy,  powerless to not give him everything he wants. He changes the music to Bob Dylan and smiles at the blue sky. \"Alright, H. But when we get our arses kicked, I'm going to remind you whose idea this was.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, delighted. \"I have tattoos. I'll protect you, princess.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, flips him off half-heartedly. <br \/><br \/>Around eight in the evening, after numerous stops at the most ridiculous of roadside attractions \u2013\u00a0Louis honestly did not know souvenir shops had such a wide array of bolo ties \u2013 Harry whacks Louis sharply in the arm, pointing into the distance at a turnoff into a low building with a huge fa\u00e7ade out front and motorcycles lining the car park. Louis smirks. <br \/><br \/>\"Let's find a motel first, yeah?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head. \"Right there, mate,\" he says, pointing again next to the building, where a blinking, half-burnt out neon sign advertises The Red Door Inn. <br \/><br \/>Flipping on the blinker, Louis eases off into the car park, tyres grinding into the gravel. \"Convenient.\" <br \/><br \/>They get a room and Louis makes Harry stay in the car. He's shocked when Harry agrees readily, but figures neither of them need slurs thrown their way at an inn next to a biker bar outside Tulsa, Oklahoma. <br \/><br \/>They drop their bags in the room, and Louis marvels at how they all seem to look the same; every room along this highway. <br \/><br \/>\"What're you gonna wear, Lou?\" Harry calls over to him as Louis stands over the sink, washing his face. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I dunno. White v-neck and cutoffs. I really doubt I can pull off 'tough.'\"<br \/><br \/>Harry snorts. \"Yeah. I'm gonna go with a tank and black cutoffs, I think.\" He laughs a little. \"I'm kind of nervous. Is that stupid?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis walks out of the bathroom and gives Harry a once-over, nodding slightly in approval. \"Nah, I mean, shit, H, at least you're going into this with a definite interest in pussy. I'm the twinky British boy going into a dustbowl biker bar.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry glances away, biting his lip. \"Is this stupid? I don't want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm good,\" Louis says, shrugging. \"Don't, like, pull tonight, though, yeah? I don't fancy being left alone.\" He says it lightly, but his hands are sweating. He shoves them in his pockets. <br \/><br \/>Harry catches his eye and his expression is serious. \"Lou, come on, I'm not here to shag birds.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods. <br \/><br \/>\"I mean,\" Harry continues, glancing away briefly before looking back at Louis. \"All of it, you know? I'm not here with you, on this trip, to get girls. So don't worry about that.\" <br \/><br \/>The mood is heavy, suddenly, and the sun is disappearing over the horizon, glowing orange. Louis swallows. He doesn't want to take this any more seriously than Harry means it. He says, casual, \"Sure.\" He shrugs. \"But don't hold back because of me if you, like, are feeling it or whatever, you know? I don't mind at all. I can sleep in the car or whatever if you want the room.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. \"You're so stupid,\" he says, and it's all fond.<br \/><br \/>\"Rude,\" Louis replies, grabbing the room key and his wallet, making sure anything of any value is hidden from view. \"Shall we?\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The bar is dark, but illuminated all through with neon beer signs and bright lights around the pool tables. There's a poker game advertised in the downstairs, and every single person sitting around the bar looks to be over fifty, with <i>actual<\/i> prison tattoos, not just the Harry Styles brand of overly sentimental doodlings. Harry's eyes are wide and Louis feels his face glaze over into blankness as all eyes rest on them. <br \/><br \/>Harry guides them over to the bar with a hand on the small of Louis back and Louis goes stiff, tense, because Harry is so fucking <i>na\u00efve<\/i>. He steps away slightly, and Harry glances over at him, wounded. Louis glares at him sharply. \"Are you kidding me?\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks around quickly and all eyes are still on them, the two young boys with soft, pretty features. Louis swallows, licking his lips. <br \/><br \/>The bartender swaggers over to them, a mean smirk on his lips. \"Can I get you boys anything?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis clears his throat. Harry likes stupid fruity cocktails and, god, this is <i>so<\/i> not where they should be right now. Harry's too young for this, too innocent for this. He has no idea what people like this think of boys like them \u2013 like <i>Louis<\/i> in particular \u2013 and he's never wanted Harry to have to find out. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, two pints of Bud, please,\" he says, carefully. <br \/><br \/>The bartender's face changes, immediately becoming more amused, more animalistic. A hawk spotting an injured squirrel. \"Sure thing,\" he drawls. \"Where you boys from and what the fuck are you doing around here?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's silent beside Louis, staring at the signage decorating the walls, advertising beer and guns and hunting and how many kills per season and \u2013 god \u2013 taxidermy and barely clothed women. His hands are folded in his lap and his knuckles are white. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances over at him, worried, before saying, \"We're from northern England, actually. Doing a vacation before the brains of the outfit starts school in the fall.\" <br \/><br \/>The bartender scoffs a little, snorting and hocking a loogie onto the floor. Louis thinks every muscle in his body has been tightened like a too-sharp guitar. <br \/><br \/>\"Two Buds,\" the bartender grunts, sliding them over. \"That's $2.50 or tab.\"<br \/><br \/>\"We'll hold off on the tab for now, thanks,\" Louis says, dropping three dollars on the bar. The bartender nods shortly and moves away. Louis very clearly hears the discussions swirling on either sides of them, terms he hasn't registered in years filtering into his brain. <br \/><br \/>He takes a long drink and elbows Harry. Harry glances at him, eyes wide and young and scared. His lower lip is pulled into his mouth, digging in till the skin is white. <br \/><br \/>\"Drink,\" Louis hisses. \"We don't have to stay, but, christ, Harry, you have to relax or we're gonna get eaten alive.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes himself minutely and takes a long drink of beer, trying and failing to hide the face he always fucking pulls. <br \/><br \/>There's movement behind them. Louis very carefully stares at the shelf of liquor, feeling Harry seize up even further. <br \/><br \/>\"You're awful pretty,\" comes a beer-soaked breath onto Louis's neck with a thick southern accent. \"Awful pretty to be in a place like this, sweetheart.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis licks his lips and turns a little to the man. He's huge in every direction, the kind of huge where it's muscle and fat all twisted together to form a kind of solidity Louis will never have. He's scarred and bearded with grey, wiry hair and cold eyes.<br \/><br \/>\"You here for business or <i>pleasure<\/i>?\" the man rumbles, voice dropping lewdly on the last word, eyes raking over Louis's body. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles as best he can, tense. \"Just here on holiday, mate. Thought we'd stop for a drink, is all.\" <br \/><br \/>The man grunts and grins back, dirty, showing missing and half-rotted teeth. He brings his hand up and strokes one knotted finger down the line of Louis's spine. Louis stills immediately, frozen in fear and shock. Harry's motionless beside him for a moment, until he bursts into life, sliding off his stool, pressing a hand into the man's massive chest, and oh god. <br \/><br \/>Harry's big \u2013 he's big compared to Louis and he's big compared to their friends, but Louis is now acutely aware of how fucking scrawny Harry is and how tiny his hand looks on this bloke's chest and oh, god. <br \/><br \/>The man isn't even swayed by Harry and he just sucks his teeth, spitting on the floor at their feet. Louis is still frozen in his chair, watching with wide eyes as Harry faces up to this man. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't talk to him that way,\" Harry says, and oh god fucking damn it, his voice is shaking. Louis is clutching his beer with a deathgrip. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh?\" The man is laughing now, and all eyes are still on them, predatory, amused, and circling. \"He your boyfriend, kid?\" and now the murmurings are clearer, words more defined, enunciated. Louis closes his eyes and slides off his stool to stand next to Harry, grasping his upper arm. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry, leave it. We're leaving.\" <br \/><br \/>And Harry's still staring at the man, wide eyed and every emotion swirling across his face. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Louis needs to get them out of here. <br \/><br \/>\"Looks like your little twink needs a good fucking,\" the man drawls. \"You gonna see to him?\" <br \/><br \/>The whispers are coming closer and Louis's chest is heaving, trying to catch his breath, the hot, smoky air of the bar melting into a cold sweat across his bare skin. \"Harry,\" he says sharply, shaking him. <br \/><br \/>Harry jerks into it, glancing down at Louis and nodding shortly. He pulls out of Louis's grip on his arm and grabs at his hand instead, twining their fingers together and pulling Louis toward the door. Louis closes his eyes and says a prayer to a god he absolutely doesn't believe in, following Harry blindly. <br \/><br \/>Slurs and catcalls escort them out, but they make it to fresh air and Louis drops Harry's hand, stalking determinedly toward the hotel, not pausing to make sure Harry's following. <br \/><br \/>He is, though, and when the door slams behind both of them, Louis is shaking. He can't turn to look at Harry, doesn't know what to say to him. Doesn't know how to make him <i>understand<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Harry says, low and soft, gentle. As if Louis is some goddamn spooked horse. <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and presses his palms into his eyes. He doesn't say anything. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry tries again. \"Are you okay?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down, for his hands to stop fucking shaking. <br \/><br \/>He hears Harry come up behind him, feels his hand press carefully against his side, and he twitches away, walking two steps forward, and he whirls around, looking Harry in the eye. <br \/><br \/>\"What the fuck,\" Louis starts, voice dangerous, sharp, \"do you think you were doing in there?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry takes a step back, flinching. He looks shocked. Louis wants to \u2013 god \u2013\u00a0he wants to <i>hit him<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>\"What? I \u2013 Lou, people can't just\u2013\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis cuts him off. \"No, Harry, people <i>can<\/i> and they <i>will<\/i> and you need to not put yourself in fucking <i>danger<\/i> like you're going to protect my fucking <i>honour<\/i>, you hear me? God, you don't know what people like that are <i>like<\/i>, alright? You don't know what they think of people like us \u2013 me. People like me. You cannot pick fights in a bar full of thirty men, each of them bigger than you and me combined. You cannot. You cannot put yourself in danger like that.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's staring at him, mouth open, face white. <br \/><br \/>Louis drops his eyes, shoulders slumping. \"I'm sorry. I'm \u2013 I'm sorry. I just. I never, ever wanted you to have to deal with something like this and I'm sorry this happened.\" He scrubs his hand through his hair. \"I'm so fucking tired.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's silent, back to gnawing on his lip. <br \/><br \/>Louis steps toward him, hand out. He grabs at the hem of Harry's teeshirt, pulling him in slightly until Harry's legs move and then the mood crashes down around them \u2013\u00a0Harry falls into Louis and Louis wraps his arms around him, swaying them lightly on the spot, whispering in his ear. <br \/><br \/>\"It's alright, Haz, it's okay. We're okay,\" he murmurs. Harry's back is heaving and his breath is heavy through Louis's shirt. Louis closes his eyes and fists a hand into Harry's hair when he feels damp spots soaking through to his shoulder. \"Hazza,\" he sighs. <br \/><br \/>Harry's hands are fitted tightly around Louis's waist, and Louis gently walks them to the bed, tipping Harry carefully down onto it, curling into him immediately. Harry gazes at him, dark, damp eyes and bitten-red lips. He's so <i>young<\/i>. Louis brushes his curls back from his forehead, fitting his hand on the curve of his neck. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm sorry,\" Harry whispers. \"I just \u2013\u00a0I couldn't handle it. Hearing that. About you.\" His breath still isn't coming evenly and his fingers are still digging into Louis's side, under his shirt, pressing into skin as if to make sure Louis won't disappear from him. Louis tucks himself closer, so their bodies are pressed together. <br \/><br \/>\"I know, H,\" he whispers back. \"It's not \u2013 like. I,\" he swallows, wondering how to phrase this. \"I appreciate it, I guess,\" he continues, \"not that I need you to take care of me, you dick,\" he says, a note of teasing in his voice. \"I'm not some damsel in distress.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry coughs out a little laugh and Louis smiles weakly back, before saying, \"But I appreciate your concern, I guess. Or whatever. Just. You're a good friend, H. Best I've got.\" <br \/><br \/>Nodding slightly, Harry lets out a shuddering breath into Louis's hair, pulling him in even tighter before ducking his head down so their noses are aligned. \"Didn't mean to come over all, like, macho,\" he says, looking sheepish. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Trust me, love, you didn't.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry huffs out a laugh. \"Fuck you,\" he says, and leans in more, brushing their lips together. <br \/><br \/>Louis's eyes snap open and his body locks back into frozen muscles. Harry pushes forward, opening his lips around Louis's, sucking lightly on his lower. Louis's hand is still on Harry's neck and his other wrapped around his back and Harry's hands are moving now, under his shirt around to his the small of his back, spreading across the entire thing and pulling him in, opening Louis's mouth with his tongue. He rolls them slightly, pressing Louis down into the bed and sliding his thigh between both of Louis's. <br \/><br \/>Louis's eyes slam shut and his body shocks into it. His fingers are curling against Harry's scalp and digging into the muscles in Harry's back and he's pushing up against the solid weight above him, gasping slightly into Harry's mouth, and Harry's pushing down with his hips and Louis shudders when he feels the hot press of Harry's cock against his own and he sucks in a sharp breath, pulling back. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" he says, and he <i>hates<\/i> how weak his voice is, how needy. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks down at him, eyes still dark, but not scared anymore. He combs his fingers through Louis's hair, pushing his fringe off his forehead. \"Lou,\" he rasps. <br \/><br \/>Louis squeezes his eyes shut and unwraps his arms from around Harry. \"No,\" he says. \"We're not doing this.\" <br \/><br \/>He slides off the bed and takes a shaky breath, twisting his hands together nervously. His feels wild, spinning dangerously off his axis. <br \/><br \/>Harry gazes up at him, mouth turned down. \"I...\" he starts, then stops, blinking quickly. \"Sorry, Lou, I just \u2013\u00a0sorry,\" he mumbles. <br \/><br \/>Louis wants to fucking <i>cry<\/i> or scream or, god, destroy something. \"It's okay,\" he says, choked. \"It's \u2013 it's okay, H, sorry. I just. We can't do that. We can't.\" <br \/><br \/>Hurt flashes across Harry's face, intense. It's fleeting, his expression settling into a blank mask that he's never quite been able to pull off. Louis wants to curl up and die. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says quietly. \"Okay. Sorry.\" He slides over to the far side of the bed, sitting up and swinging his legs over, burying his face in his hands briefly before tugging off his shorts and shirt and curling up under the covers, back to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes, mouthing <i>fuck<\/i> into the darkness, before undressing and sliding into the other side of the bed. They don't touch all night. <br \/><br \/><center><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15290.html\" target=\"_blank\">next<\/a><\/center><\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:15290","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15290.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=15290"}}],"title":"a runaway american dream (hs\/lt) 2\/2","published":"2013-03-01T14:37:17Z","updated":"2013-03-01T19:10:05Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15425.html\" target=\"_blank\">previous<\/a><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/><br \/>The bed is empty when Louis wakes up in the morning, but he runs his hand over the other side, finding it still warm. The shower's running, a curl of steam coming from under the door. Louis sighs, rolling over into the phantom warmth. He stares at the ceiling. <br \/><br \/>Harry pads out of the bathroom and Louis looks over at him. Harry meets his gaze briefly, then drops his eyes, digging around for clean clothes. \"Morning,\" Harry says quietly. <br \/><br \/>Louis lets his eyes fall shut again. \"Morning,\" he says back. \"I'll just... shower, then.\" <br \/><br \/>He gets ready as quickly as possible, because there's no <i>air<\/i> in this fucking room, there are just heavy shadows from the night before. He throws on whatever clothes are closest, does his hair, and slides on his sunglasses. Harry's sitting on the side of the bed, staring out the window. <br \/><br \/>\"Ready?\" Louis says, hesitant. <br \/><br \/>Harry jumps a little, but glances back at him and nods. \"Yeah. What's the plan today?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Was thinking we could stop near Oklahoma City for lunch \u2013\u00a0there's this barbecue place in Arcadia or something? It's supposed to be really good. And we should probably get some barbecue at some point, I think.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's lips twitch up and he nods. \"Sounds good. I'll drive.\"<br \/><br \/>It's early. Earlier than their days usually start, and the sun's not all the way up yet. There's still a sense of newness hanging in the air \u2013\u00a0that quiet of just after dawn. Louis looks over to the bar in this morning light. There are only a few motorcycles outside now, and it's quiet, dark. Louis bites his lip and glances over at Harry. Harry has dark smudges under his eyes and his lips are drawn into a small pout and there's a slump to his shoulders that Louis hasn't seen in a long time. <br \/><br \/>\"H,\" Louis says. \"Should we, like, talk?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks over at him, jerking his head as though startled by the sound of Louis's voice. \"What?\" he says, and then blinks a bit. He pulls his sunglasses down from his hair. \"Nah, Lou, it's fine.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry puts on Gregory Alan Isakov and Louis slumps in the seat, sinking into the melancholy of the morning, the music, the mood. <br \/><br \/>After an hour of dusty Oklahoma road, Harry turns down the music and starts to speak quietly. \"I'm sorry, Louis. About last night. I was way out of line. That was... I don't know. I was really \u2013 I don't know. Over-emotional? Over-protective? I never meant to \u2013 to push myself on you, or anything. Fuck.\" Harry's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes tightly behind his sunglasses. \"Harry...\" he says softly. <br \/><br \/>\"No, I just\u2013\" Harry cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair. The speedometer is creeping up slowly. \"I just, like. I really love you and I just. It was hard for me, I guess, last night.\" <br \/><br \/>Swallowing tightly, Louis thinks maybe his throat is failing him. \"Harry, no, stop. I... it wasn't like that. Don't think that you were, um. Doing that at all. I just... I love you too, you know? And, fuck, Harry, this is <i>it<\/i>, you know? And I don't want you to regret a single minute of it.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's quiet for awhile, driving in silence. He doesn't look at Louis. Finally, he says, just barely above a whisper, \"I wouldn't regret it, Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles bitterly out the window, curling his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around himself. Harry's so <i>young<\/i>. \"We'll be okay, H.\" He reaches out, blindly, grasping for Harry's hand, curling it around his own. <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs, slumping back into his seat, squeezing Louis's hand. \"Yeah.\" <br \/><br \/>They decide to spend the night in Texola, Oklahoma. Another room that looks exactly the same, but Harry takes them a little further off the highway into the town, to a small motel on the mainstreet. Louis points to a diner. <br \/><br \/>\"M'starving,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. <br \/><br \/>They've been quiet all day, barely stopping. Louis stared out the window at the world rushing past them, feeling their time slipping out of his hands too quickly. He wanted to beg Harry to pull over at the curiosity museums, the roadshows, but Harry just drove on, foot heavy on the gas pedal. <br \/><br \/>Now, though, they step into the diner, into a thick cloud of chicken fried steak aroma \u2013 gravy and mashed potatoes on every plate. Harry looks at Louis, now, excitement in his eyes. \"Imagine how much fat is in a single dish here,\" he whispers, and Louis wrinkles his nose, patting his belly. <br \/><br \/>\"Just what I need,\" he hisses back, sticking out his tongue. Harry rolls his eyes, pulling him to a booth. <br \/><br \/>A girl about their age comes up to take their order and immediately melts as soon as Harry opens his mouth. Louis hides his smile in the menu. <br \/><br \/>Harry eats it up, too, of course. \"Tell me, love,\" he says, accent heavy and dripping from his pretty lips, \"what do you recommend?\" and the girl \u2013 Krissy, her nametag says \u2013 just about swoons. <br \/><br \/>\"Well, I love the meatloaf,\" she chatters. \"It's my ma's recipe and we've been makin' it forever, but the steaks are all real good, too. Need some potatoes, also, the garlic ones are my favourite...\"<br \/><br \/>She's still talking but Louis tunes it out, only hopping back into the conversation when he hears Harry order and Krissy's attention is turned to Louis. \"I'd like the chicken sandwich and a house salad, please,\" he says, smiling politely at her. <br \/><br \/>She gives him a closed-mouth smile back and nods, taking his menu. Harry winks at her when she makes to walk away, and she giggles, blushing madly. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes at Harry and Harry just grins, not at all ashamed. \"Why not use it to our advantage, eh?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"You're a pig,\" Louis says, kicking at Harry's ankle. <br \/><br \/>When they ask for their bill, Krissy brings it to them and hovers for a moment, twisting her blonde hair around her finger nervously. \"So, um, I was just thinkin' that my friends and me are gettin' together later tonight? Out past town a little bit, in the field. You just take mainstreet down till you hit the field, it's real easy to find. And, like, maybe you guys would be interested in coming?\" She's looking at Harry, talking to Harry, but she glances at Louis too, smiling a little more warily. <br \/><br \/>Harry's nodding before she even finishes talking and he glances over at Louis. Louis shrugs. \"Sure, babe,\" Harry says. \"We'll be there. What time, about?\"<br \/><br \/>She shrugs her thin little shoulders, biting her lip coyly. \"Whenever, really. Around nine, maybe? It's just like a bonfire and some beers and stuff,\" she says. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks up at her with hooded eyes and red lips. She looks like she's going to pass out, and Louis understands. The full Harry Styles charm is not something to be trifled with. \"Sounds proper American, love,\" Harry drawls. \"We'll see you there.\" <br \/><br \/>She giggles, blushing madly, and twirls away, taking their bill. Louis just shakes his head, amused, grinning at Harry. \"You slag,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Let's go get ready. Big night out, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>They make their way out to the field a little after nine, and they hear it, smell it, before they get there. There's a group of teenagers around a huge bonfire and Louis has a small pang of fear about a brushfire, but shrugs it off. They would know better than he would. <br \/><br \/>Krissy sees them walking up and bounces over, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him over. \"Hey, y'all,\" she yells, \"these are the English boys I was talkin' 'bout!\" There are drunken cheers greeting them, pulling them into the circle. <br \/><br \/>She has a blanket spread out and pats it, motioning for them to sit down. Louis finds a PBR pressed into his hand before his arse hits the ground and he smiles his thanks. <br \/><br \/>Krissy dominates most of Harry's time and attention, which does not surprise Louis in the slightest, so he stares at the fire for awhile, smiling politely at the conversations around him. There are mostly boys, a handful of girls in short cutoff shorts and tiny tank tops, but they're either on the laps of boys or huddled together on the roof of the pickup truck pulled onto the field, coolers filling the bed. <br \/><br \/>A blond boy drops down next to Louis, nudging him slightly. \"So what brings y'all to OK, then? Don't get too many foreigners 'round here, gotta say.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little. \"Yeah, we're doing Route 66. That whole cliche, I guess.\" <br \/><br \/>The boy smirks, nodding. \"Yeah. Hey, I'm Jack.\" He holds out his hand. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Louis says, smiling back at him. He's alright looking, big and broad in the way Louis has always imagined American boys to be, with short, cropped blond hair and slight freckles across his nose. Louis blinks away. <br \/><br \/>Jack nods over at Harry. \"Your buddy should be careful, there.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh?\" Louis says, taking a long drink of his beer, glancing over to where Krissy has draped herself across Harry's back, giving him a massage. Louis tries not to laugh at the slightly trapped expression on Harry's face. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Jack says, snorting. \"She's on the prowl, if you get me. Got dumped a few weeks ago.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" Louis says. \"Well, we're out of here tomorrow, so, like. Harry's good at that.\" <br \/><br \/>Jack laughs knowingly, and then he digs in his pocket, pulling out a glass pipe. \"Wanna toke?\" he says, sparking the lighter suggestively. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances down at it, then up at Jack. \"Sure, then, yeah, mate, thanks.\" <br \/><br \/>He takes a long hit, letting the smoke curl in his lungs, and passes the pipe back to Jack. Jack shakes his head and motions over at Harry. \"Your bro want any?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs and leans over to tap Harry. \"Weed?\" he offers and Harry's eyes light up, nodding. <br \/><br \/>\"Brilliant, mate, cheers,\" Harry says, leaning over Louis to see Jake.<br \/><br \/>Jake laughs. \"Y'all are so English.\" <br \/><br \/>\"It gets us out of trouble,\" Louis says with a wink. <br \/><br \/>The pipe is passed around a few more times and Louis is melting into the ground. Jake's pressed close to him, halfheartedly explaining American football strategy. Louis isn't really listening to him, attention more zeroed in to Harry on his other side, delicately fending off Krissy's far from subtle advances. <br \/><br \/>Jake seems to notice, too, because he leans in and mutters, \"So what's up with you two?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks. The fire is golden like sunsets and Harry's face reflects it, golden skin and glassy eyes. He turns to Jake. \"Hmm? He's my best mate. Going to Harvard in the fall.\"<br \/><br \/>Jake nods a bit. \"You... y'know?\"<br \/><br \/>Tilting his head, Louis looks Jake full in the face curiously. \"Nah,\" he says, figuring that's the safest answer. Jake relaxes a little bit, nodding. <br \/><br \/>Harry turns to Louis then. \"'S gone midnight, Lou,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says, smiling up at Harry lazily. \"Having fun?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry lies down on the blanket and folds his arms under his head, staring up at the sky. Louis copies him. There are a lot of stars in Oklahoma, he thinks. \"Orion,\" he says, pointing. Harry nods, nudging Louis with his shoulder. Louis looks over at him. <br \/><br \/>Their faces are too close, but Louis is too high and too warm and too happy to care. <br \/><br \/>\"It's pretty out,\" Harry says, eyes jumping from Louis's eyes to his lips to his cheeks, roaming his face. Louis smiles softly. <br \/><br \/>\"You wanna go, H?\" he says, reaching out to pat at his hip, but something gets lost in the motion and Louis's fingers crawl under Harry's shirt to stroke little circles on the jut of bone. Harry's eyelids flutter briefly. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, Lou, let's go.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods and pulls himself up. Jake's looking at him again, this time more guarded. Louis just claps him on the shoulder. \"Thanks for the chat, mate. Great to meet you. Good luck with the football, and all. Come to England, yeah? We'll show you real football.\" <br \/><br \/>Jake just raises his eyebrows and nods a bit, smirking at him. \"Have a good trip, guys.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stands up, nodding at the rest of the lads around the circle. Everyone's eyeing him curiously, but he doesn't care. Harry's making his excuses to Krissy, who's pouting. Rather unattractively, Louis thinks. <br \/><br \/>After a kiss on the cheek that Krissy tries her hardest to turn into a snog, Harry waves his goodbyes around the fire and presses himself behind Louis, a hand firm on his hip, walking them back to the car. <br \/><br \/>The drive back to the motel is slow. Harry's behind the wheel and Louis lets his eyes glaze over, buildings and lights blurring together. Harry reaches a hand out for Louis's and he holds it tight. <br \/><br \/>They stumble into their room and Louis hasn't been this high in a long time. He feels loose, calm, horny, eager, and Harry's staring at him, smiling big and red and so pretty and he can't help it. He corners Harry against the sink, leaning into him. They're just in their pants, getting ready for bed, and Louis can't help himself. <br \/><br \/>There's a voice in the back of his mind, muttering furtively that he can't just be another one of Harry's mistakes, can't be another straight-boy mistake, can't do that again, and Louis knows that. Louis knows he would rather die than have Harry avoid his eyes and apologise uncomfortably, loving him but not loving him the right way. Louis knows that, knows he won't handle that well, but. But there's a louder voice, a more insistent, stoned, sweet voice in the front of his mind telling him to do it, to kiss him, because fuck knows if he'll get another chance. <br \/><br \/>He curls a hand into Harry's hair, tugging a little, loving the way Harry's eyes flutter, the way he naturally submits, curling down into Louis's hand. Harry fits his big hands around Louis's hips and their faces are so close, their breath heavy. Louis can't help himself. He pushes himself slightly onto his toes, leaning further into Harry's body, hip to hip, and nudges his lips against Harry's. Harry responds immediately, letting out a huff of breath that sounds like <i>yes<\/i>, and pulling Louis in tight against him, sweeping his tongue across the seam of Louis's lips. Louis closes his eyes and relaxes into Harry, into being held close, and wraps his other arm around Harry's neck, opening his mouth against Harry's mouth. <br \/><br \/>They kiss lazily against the sink, not moving, not progressing further than chaste kisses, until Harry shudders a little and his hands drop from Louis's waist to the top of his arse, as if asking permission. <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls back a little, grinning, and before Harry's face can fall into disappointment or rejection, he pulls Harry's hand and leads him to the bed, falling onto his back and tugging Harry down on top of him. <br \/><br \/>Harry immediately shoves a thigh between Louis's and his elbows frame Louis's head, huge hands cupping his face. Harry dips back down, kissing him deeply, and the weight of his body on top of Louis's makes Louis groan, sliding his hands from Harry's shoulders down across his back and down further to clutch at his bum, pressing down as he pushes his own hips up. Harry stills, eyes clenched shut tight, and then lets out a harsh breath against Louis's lips, rutting them together, grinding down into Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis slams his head back into the pillow and Harry just bends down and attacks his neck, biting and sucking harshly, definitely leaving bruises, as he finds a rhythm to rut their hips together, cocks aligned perfectly. <br \/><br \/>\"God, Lou,\" Harry pants out, lifting up on an elbow and staring down at him. \"<i>God<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>And Louis doesn't know what to say to that, because, yeah. God. He slides a hand back up to curl into Harry's hair, stroking through, letting his thumb drift down to rub at his cheekbone. Harry leans into it, closing his eyes. He grabs Louis's thigh and hooks it up, fitting himself perfectly in between Louis's legs, and oh. The angle changes and it's perfect \u2013 Harry's cock is sliding just up against his balls, so close to where Louis wants him, and Louis's cock is rubbing, slick in his pants, against Harry's hard stomach and Louis hazily thinks he could come this way. <br \/><br \/>Harry seems to be on the same wavelength, because he presses in hard \u2013 once, twice, and stills, face tight, mouth dropped open, eyes clenched shut, and Louis watches, rapt. He wishes he had the polaroid on him, wants to capture Harry's face in this moment, coming into his pants like he's fourteen fucking years old, but coming just from Louis, just from rubbing up on Louis's body. And fuck if there's anything better than that. <br \/><br \/>Louis sneaks a hand between them, curling it into his own underwear and stroking hard, fast, almost there already. He comes quickly, cupped into his hand, letting out a small whimper as his eyes finally close, breaking their eye contact. <br \/><br \/>When he comes back to earth, Harry's staring down at him and Louis wants to hide his face because Harry's looks fucking <i>wondrous<\/i> and there's really nothing in Louis's So You're In Love With Your Straight Best Friend manuel that guides him through this. <br \/><br \/>Harry rolls off him, but not far. He keeps an arm wrapped around Louis's waist, pulling him close to press a kiss to his hair. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles over at him, a bit hesitant, and Harry just grins back. <br \/><br \/>\"Shower?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis relaxes. \"Race you there.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next morning dawns like the fiery depths of hell. The thermometer on the car says it's 104 degrees and Louis things he might already be well-done. The leather of the seats is griddling his thighs and the thick air chokes him. <br \/><br \/>\"Amar<i>illo<\/i>,\" Harry trills next to him, rolling the r, \"Tex<i>as<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>They have Fast Car on the radio and Louis hums along, \"Startin' from zero, got nothin' to lose.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Me and myself, I got nothin' to prove,\" Harry finish, beaming over at him. <br \/><br \/>They stop in Shamrock, Texas to see the Pioneer West Museum and Harry searches every souvenir shop on the block for a bolo tie with a shamrock for Niall. It's futile, and Harry drops back into the car, spitting, \"What is even the bloody <i>point<\/i>, then?\"<br \/><br \/>They drive on to McLean to see the Devil's Rope Museum and Louis is hot, tired, and cranky. \"Can we bloody <i>go<\/i>, H?\" he snaps, when Harry gets distracted by the <i>thrilling<\/i> history of barbed wire. <br \/><br \/>Harry glances back at him, laughing at Louis's pout, pulling out the camera and snapping a photo. \"Almost better than your o-face,\" he says, winking, and Louis flushes. <br \/><br \/>They make it to Amarillo for lunch, and Harry insists on barbecue again. He gets the sauce all over his face and Louis laughs, taking a picture and resisting the urge to kiss the mess off, but Harry sees the look in his eye and takes his time licking his lips, eyes sparking with laughter. <br \/><br \/>Louis kicks him under the table and dips his finger in his own excess sauce, drawing it into his mouth, batting his eyelashes across the table at Harry. Harry just narrows his eyes and says, \"You just wait.\" <br \/><br \/>They make it out of the city unscathed, but narrowly, because Harry yanks them into an old alleyway just off the main street, pushing Louis against a wall and kissing him until Louis is grasping at Harry's shoulders just to keep standing. Louis shoves him off after a good five minutes of snogging, giving Harry a dirty look. \"You're gonna get us in trouble, babe,\" he says, trying to force his giddy expression into something serious. Harry just shrugs, holding his hands out as if to say <i>I can't help it<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Louis wants to punch him and then kiss him. And then kiss him again and again and again. <br \/><br \/>Louis is possibly in the eye of the goddamn storm. <br \/><br \/>They make it to Tucumcari and check in at the Blue Swallow Motel, drawn in by the huge neon sign on the highway. Louis's eyes are closing already and he can't even be annoyed by Harry's hands gripping his hips tightly when they stand at the desk. There's an old woman behind the counter and she barely notices, anyhow. <br \/><br \/>They stumble to their room and Louis falls on the bed. He's sticky and hot and exhausted, but mostly he just wants Harry to fall down next to him. <br \/><br \/>And like Harry's reading his mind, he does. He has to be just as hot and he's definitely as sticky as Louis is, but he wraps himself around Louis, flipping on the telly to a baseball game. It's the Houston Astros versus the Seattle Mariners and Louis doesn't even pretend to register it, just turning in to nose at Harry's neck as Harry presses small kisses down the side of his face. <br \/><br \/>They fall asleep that way and Louis briefly thinks before he drifts off that they really need to shower in the morning. The thought makes him smile. <br \/>\u2028Things are really almost perfect, however momentarily. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>It takes them two more days to get to Flagstaff, and they decide to spend the night there. They find a quiet diner and Harry pours over the map for long enough that Louis gets impatient, kicking at him under the table. <br \/><br \/>\"What could possibly be so interesting? We literally stay on the same road the entire way,\" Louis whines. \"I'm prettier.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry smirks down at the map and catches Louis's ankle between his feet, holding it in place. \"Wouldn't dare argue, darlin',\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Then pay attention to me!\" Louis grumbles. <br \/><br \/>Looking up with a long-suffering sigh, Harry props his head on his fists and gives Louis a mockingly attentive look. \"Dazzle me, Tommo,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis makes a face. \"What are you even looking at, though?\" he says, gesturing to the map. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"I think we should go up to the Grand Canyon.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis raises his eyebrows. \"Okay.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Really?\" Harry sounds surprised.<br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Louis says, shrugging. \"Why not? We're basically there, aren't we? It's just, like, what, 80 miles north?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Yeah, about that far. We can take Highway 180 straight there, basically.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sounds good.\" Louis smiles over the rim of his milkshake. \"Romantic, innit? Grand Canyon and all.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little. \"Gonna sweep you off your feet, I think.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm planning on it.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's feet stroke over Louis's briefly, before pulling away. \"Back to the hotel?\" and Louis is out the door before Harry's left the tip. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry makes them wake up at five o'clock in the morning the next day, because he wants to get to the Canyon before it's too hot. Louis makes him drive and sleeps on the way, huddled in the corner, waking up when they arrive to the sound of the camera spitting out a photo. Louis mumbles into his arm and rubs at his eyes. \"We here?\" he asks.<br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"I haven't looked yet. Waiting for you.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles, rolling his eyes. He ruffles Harry's hair. \"You're so cute. Let's go.\" <br \/><br \/>They step out of the car into the desert and Louis is almost knocked back by the intense dry heat. Harry rounds the car and holds out his hand to Louis. Louis stares at it for a moment and shakes his head, smiling at his feet. <br \/><br \/>\"God, Harry,\" he says, taking his hand. <br \/><br \/>Harry just looks at him, all earnest big eyes and soft grin. \"What?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head again. \"You're gonna ruin me,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry scoffs and pulls Louis close, knocking their hands between their hips, leading him to the edge. And\u2013<br \/><br \/>Oh. <br \/><br \/>Staring down, Louis feels like he's the biggest, sorriest cliche in the entire world. He feels every single thing he's ever mocked anyone for feeling in his entire life. He feels infinity and he feels connection to nature. He feels connection to something bigger than himself and a sense of awe and\u2013<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" he says quietly. Harry tightens his hand around Louis's in response, too caught up to say anything back. <br \/><br \/>\"Back in uni\u2013\" Louis starts, and swallows, because he doesn't like to talk about his brief time there. He gets mad and jealous and guilty and inadequate, especially around Harry, with Harry's success and privilege and future. Harry looks at him now and pulls him closer, untangling their fingers and wrapping his arm around Louis's waist. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Harry prompts. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath. \"Back in uni, I was in some psychology class, I don't know, entry-level stuff, but we read <i>Civilisation and its Discontents<\/i>, you know? That shitty Freud manifesto?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods, fingers slipping under Louis's shirt to pet at his hip. <br \/><br \/>\"And,\" Louis continues, \"I mean, it was mostly bullshit, right, but like. He described this feeling, I dunno, it was mixed in all the penis talk or whatever, but he described this thing called the oceanic feeling? Like, it's the feeling of limitlessness. He used it to describe the religious experience, but like, also the feeling you get by staring into something so, like, untouchable? I don't know. But you know what I mean?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis feels Harry staring at his profile and his cheeks burn red. \"Sorry.\" He laughs a little. \"I probably just rambled stupidly about something you wrote a goddamn thesis on. Sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Harry says immediately. \"Keep going.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I don't know, it's dumb. Just like. This, you know?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods, and turns a little, facing Louis. He brings his fingers to tilt Louis's chin up and presses a soft kiss to his lips. He pulls back and gives Louis a small smile. \"I think you're pretty oceanic, Tomlinson,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, huffing out a laugh. He rests his head on Harry's shoulder and stares out into the Canyon. They're silent for almost ten minutes, until Louis says, \"Thank you. For doing this with me.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. \"Of course, Louis,\" he says, choked.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm just \u2013\u00a0I'm going to miss you so fucking much,\" Louis says. \"You're the best thing in my life.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry turns his head and buries his mouth into Louis's hair. He doesn't say anything, but Louis feels his uneven breath. Closing his eyes, he brings Harry's free hand, the one not on his waist, up to his mouth and holds it there, mouthing words he can't make himself say. <br \/><br \/>They decide to spend the night on the rim of the Grand Canyon, folded up on the reclined seats in their dirty little car, because Louis wants to see the sunset and Harry wants to see the sunrise. <br \/><br \/>Harry decides they need supplies, so they stop at McDonald's for dinner and then some little convenience stores. Louis buys cheap fleece blankets and a stockpile of candy, energy bars, and soda. Harry buys a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. <br \/><br \/>Louis arches an eyebrow at him. \"Okay, <i>Zayn<\/i>, wanna explain?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry grins, cheeky. \"You did say I was James Dean.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Harry laughs, \"but I want the whole literary experience.\" <br \/><br \/>\"And that involves lung cancer?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No, it involves pretending we're beat poets and laying on the hood of our car, smoking cigarettes and discussing infinity and oceans and constellations and other pretentious shit.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs and pulls Harry in for a kiss. \"Okay.\" <br \/><br \/>So they do. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next morning, Louis blows Harry as the sun rises over the Canyon, and then they fold themselves back in the car, heading back down to Route 66. They make it as far as Barstow, California, where Louis turns into the first motel he sees and throws the car into park. <br \/><br \/>\"I am sunburnt and exhausted and hungry and exhausted and cramping and exhausted and hungry and thirsty and exhausted and we are stopping here, okay? I will not drive another mile.\" Louis stares at Harry challengingly, daring him to argue. <br \/><br \/>Harry blinks back, bleary. \"No complaints, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods shortly and stalks into the front office of the motel, saying no more words than are strictly necessary. <br \/><br \/>Harry's leaning against the car when he comes back out, holding their backs, awaiting direction. Louis jerks his head and leads them to their room, opening the door and immediately falling onto the bed. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm never moving again,\" he says into the pillow. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs softly behind him. \"Okay. Give me the car keys, love, I'll go grab us dinner.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You're my favourite,\" Louis mumbles, passing them over. <br \/><br \/>Harry's gone for a half an hour which is approximately twenty minutes longer than it takes for Louis to find out there is literally nothing on television in Barstow, California. <br \/><br \/>\"This place is a shithole,\" he grumbles when Harry walks back in, holding takeaway bags from a taco place. <br \/><br \/>\"Someone's in a good mood,\" Harry says lightly. <br \/><br \/>Louis glares at him. \"Give me food, wanker.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry does and Louis stuffs the food in his face, staring at the local news blankly, feeling nothing but exhaustion. <br \/><br \/>After Louis has finished his tacos, he flops back out on the bed. \"God,\" he moans. \"That was fantastic. Let's move to Southern California. I will live on tacos and you will earn me taco funds and we will be happy ever after.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry smirks into his food. \"After a few years I'll have to roll you to the taco truck.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Worth it.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You're way too incredibly, unbelievably, ridiculously vain for that.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis flips him two fingers and wrestles with the pillow behind his back, pulling it into a better position. <br \/><br \/>Harry eats and they sit in silence, only the faint mumble of the newscaster and the wrappings on the tacos breaking the stillness. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, Lou?\" Harry says, suddenly. <br \/><br \/>\"Mmm?\" Louis responds, eyes half-lidded and growing heavier. <br \/><br \/>Harry hesitates. \"Should we, like, talk? About... this thing?\" <br \/><br \/>And there it is. <br \/><br \/>Louis tenses, chills washing over him. \"What thing?\" he asks, casual. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis.\" Harry's looking at him, intent. Serious. <br \/><br \/>Sighing, Louis rolls to face him, reaching out to stroke a hand up his thigh. Not suggestively, just. Comforting. \"Harry,\" he sighs. He pauses, and then: \"What's the point?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry freezes, taco halfway to his mouth. He looks at Louis, wounded. <br \/><br \/>Louis squeezes his fingers into Harry's leg. \"I mean. God, Harry. You're moving away. To fucking Boston. It's just. We have only a few days left. Can we just leave it?\" He can't look at Harry now. <br \/><br \/>\"Do you \u2013\u00a0do you <i>want<\/i> to just leave it?\" Harry asks quietly. <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows hard and turns off the TV. He rolls off the bed and walks to the bathroom. \"Yeah,\" he says. \"I do.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The battle through Los Angeles traffic makes Louis want to swerve into the oncoming lane. <br \/><br \/>It's not helping that Harry isn't speaking to him. <br \/><br \/>It takes six hours to reach the Santa Monica pier. The sun is gleaming off the water, catching Harry's skin. The beach is fucking packed, because it's the afternoon at the end of June. Screaming children and screaming parents and if anything has ever been so stereotypically American, Louis is sure this is the peak. <br \/><br \/>They walk the boardwalk silently, breeze flipping through Harry's hair and Louis takes a chance, because they're at the end of the road, literally and metaphorically. Harry's mad at him, mad because Harry thinks Louis doesn't care enough and the thought alone makes Louis want to laugh, vomit, and die, respectively. But they weave through the crowds of teenagers and families and surfers and drunks and Louis reaches out for Harry, needing his hand. <br \/><br \/>Harry tenses when Louis laces their fingers together, but his lips turn down slightly and his hand curls around Louis's smaller one and Louis just. Needs something. Needs a moment. <br \/><br \/>\"Let's go down to the water,\" he says suddenly, leaning up to say it into Harry's ear, and because Harry is Harry, he immediately leans down to make it easier for Louis. <br \/><br \/>There isn't one aspect of this day that doesn't make Louis want to cry. <br \/><br \/>Kicking off their shoes, they make their way across the scalding sand until they're ankle-deep in the water, waves slapping noisily against skin. <br \/><br \/>They're alone now. Well, as alone as they can get. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry has his hands stuffed in his pocket and he's standing distantly, staring at the horizonline where the water meets the sky. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry, please look at me.\" <br \/><br \/>And Harry turns to him, biting his lip, obviously reluctant. Louis thinks back to how powerless he's felt this whole trip \u2013 how powerless he always is to Harry. He wonders if Harry ever feels that. If Harry could ever feel anything Louis feels. <br \/><br \/>\"D'you remember the night you told me you got into Harvard?\" Louis asks, and sirens immediately go off in his brain: <i> what are you doing what are you doing you stupid fucking arsehole what are you doing<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods slowly. \"Secret night,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Louis lets out a dry chuckle. \"Secret night.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's still looking at him, eyes obscured behind his black wayfarers. \"You didn't have a secret. For the first time. You didn't have a secret.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis runs a hand through his hair, already hopeless from seawind. He digs his toes into the soft sand underfoot. \"Yeah. I did, though. I do.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry keeps looking at him. <br \/><br \/>Taking a deep breath, Louis says, \"My secret is that I've been in love with you since I was thirteen years old, Harry. And I don't expect you to, like \u2013 whatever. Feel the same. Obviously. But that's my secret and you're leaving and it's just pointless. I shouldn't even be, like, putting this on you. You have this whole amazing life ahead of you and I'm just\u2013\" Louis pauses, shrugging. \"I don't want you to feel tied down to anything. But that's my secret.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's still, silent, and everything around them is moving. The ferris wheel behind them is spinning, never ending, and there are children splashing in the water, there are surfers drinking beer twenty feet away from them, the waves are constantly crashing, the world is still turning. Everything is in motion but Harry. <br \/><br \/>Louis waits. <br \/><br \/>Finally, after an agonising few minutes of Louis choking back his panic, Harry speaks. <br \/><br \/>\"Do you remember when we were kids? Like, really young, I don't know. Eight, maybe.\" Louis nods, but Harry's turned back to the ocean, leaving Louis with only Harry's profile. Harry continues, \"I did everything I could to be your friend. Everything. I told you my mum packed me two bags of crisps in my lunch, said I already ate one at break when I gave them to you. I fell out of my window when I was grounded, sneaking out to see you  when you broke your arm. And remember when I got sacked at the bakery? It's not cos I was caught snogging Jenny, it was because I gave you too many free pastries.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis feels sick, unsure. <br \/><br \/>\"And when I was sixteen, when we had secret night, I wanted so badly to tell you what a huge crush I had on you, how you were the only thing I ever saw, how I wanted to be around you every fucking second. It was killing me to keep that inside. Instead I said I fucked Stephanie Carr at Michael Henderson's party, remember that?\" <br \/><br \/>Nodding slowly, Louis turns away from Harry, too, staring out across the water. He reaches out again, their constant, to link their hands again. <br \/><br \/>Harry holds on so tight. Louis is wound so tight, and not with fear, just. Expectation. Uncertainty. Hope. Hopelessness. <br \/><br \/>\"And then I just figured the time had passed, I guess. You had your string of boyfriends and I had my string of girlfriends and I was scared you wouldn't take me seriously and we were such good friends, so comfortable. I couldn't lose that. I figured if you were interested, you would have, like, said something.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis licks his lips. \"So I'm too late,\" he says quietly, nodding slowly.<br \/><br \/>Harry doesn't respond, doesn't move, until: \"And then I decided the best solution to, like, move on or whatever, would be to move away. So I applied to schools in the US, but I \u2013\u00a0fuck.\" He cuts himself off, and rubs a hand across his eyes, under his sunglasses. \"I \u2013 couldn't. Fuck, Louis, I'm going to Oxford in the fall. I couldn't fucking leave. You. I couldn't fucking leave you.\" <br \/><br \/>And that's a gigantic fucking lorry Louis did not see coming. He's winded, drowning in this. \"You're \u2013\u00a0<i>Harry<\/i>,\" he chokes out. He turns to face him, and Harry doesn't move, jaw held tightly, shoulders high. <br \/><br \/>Fuck that. Louis yanks him until they're chest to chest, and Louis pushes his own sunglasses up into his hair and then reaches up to do the same to Harry. Harry's eyes are red, wet, and he's so <i>young<\/i>, Louis thinks again, again, again. \"Harry,\" he repeats. Harry, Harry, Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry's face crumbles and he winds his arms around Louis, pulling him close. \"I love you so much, Louis,\" he whispers into Louis's hair and Louis is shaking now, clutching at Harry's back and burrowing his face into Harry's neck and there's so much rushing through him. <br \/><br \/>He pushes up onto his toes to fit his mouth against Harry's ear. \"I think, Styles, that we're oceanic.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's hands tighten around him and they're standing in the water, holding each other so tight and Louis is sure they're being stared at. Watched. Photographed. He doesn't care. He continues, \"Limitless.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry makes a choked noise and Louis hears him swallow. \"Legendary,\" he says, hoarsely. <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls back so they're face to face. <br \/><br \/>\"Legendary,\" he agrees. <br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><center><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/bf96c80c8dfbdc0bdbb398d406e96bd5a4d44f268aaa2e298d5e4c1a1bd5ba3d\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tp98dTWUMdsf-ah7h00kuGTrMdm8Xe8RTG28KqBQV-UxQhThh0shQDnmTcNgUdRApez0g5-RIJjXOfbriAvxVEsRxjJgDTGu2Vv89LtmBZpENrckIq8Wrt53kRPs9gRidAO1KG:mJ-mRswt8VdGoov87-MCeg\" fetchpriority=\"high\"> <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/0cb2e6d5c086fc47c79535e082761a446990baacc6fa91bfed91b93f521323d1\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tp98dTWUMdsf-ah7h00kuGTrMdm8Xe8RTG28KqBQUjV0IkShh35RtRmmnYZVRGRFQIm046-UAN2nXOO7_TvxVEsRxjJgDTGu2Vv89LtmBZpENoanJB3mTt53kRPs9gRidAO1KG:m7-TYCrdIRJqenu2VmChug\" loading=\"lazy\"><\/div><\/center>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:15053","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15053.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=15053"}}],"title":"could fly for freedom (h\/l)","published":"2013-02-01T07:00:18Z","updated":"2013-02-01T07:00:18Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: could fly for freedom<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~3,300<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: what maybe probably should have could have maybe happened the night harry styles turned 19. (but most likely not.) aka a blowjob and weed and best friends. <br \/><br \/><b>( <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/665238\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">could fly for freedom<\/a> )<\/b>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:14838","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/14838.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=14838"}}],"title":"lookin' so satisfied (ng\/lt)","published":"2013-01-25T04:48:11Z","updated":"2013-01-25T04:48:11Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: lookin' so satisfied<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: nick grimshaw\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~5,300<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. nick's a big fat stupid jerk and he stole louis's favourite kitten.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: based on a prompt from and dedicated to my gurls <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"checkthemargins\" lj:user=\"checkthemargins\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/checkthemargins.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/checkthemargins.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>checkthemargins<\/b><\/a><\/span>, <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"miss_mady\" lj:user=\"miss_mady\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/miss-mady.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/miss-mady.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>miss_mady<\/b><\/a><\/span> even tho i doubt she'll like this but whateva, and also sadie because she's had a bad few days. also hahahahaha 2 fics in 2 days what the hell is going on. this is just dumb and overly cute and it's about goddamn kittens and it was real hard not to make nick a jerk but i think i did an admirable job. anyway. everyone should write more of this ship bc it's like crack in every sense. <br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/>The first thing Louis does when he gets to work is let the kittens out of their crates. There's only three right now, because it's just after Christmas and apparently kittens are popular gifts, and after unlocking the register and feeding them, he lays down behind the counter and lets them crawl all over him. There's never customers until around noon, so Louis has a good two hours to play with the kittens. There's an orange and white tabby that he calls Snap, there's a black and white one he calls Crackle, and there's a tan fluffy ball he calls Pop. Pop is his favourite \u2013\u00a0he's the tiniest, even with the long hair, and he is the least graceful animal Louis has ever seen. He trips over his own paws and he's got so much fur that he can barely see, so he runs into the little barrier Louis creates with his legs, swaying on his short little legs and looking adorably confused. <br \/><br \/>His favourite place in the world is curled up in the hood of Louis's sweatshirt, batting at his neck, and crawling up to nestle in the curve of his shoulder.<br \/><br \/>Louis would adopt him in a minute if he had the time \u2013 he would never get to class or either of his jobs on time if he had a warm little kitten to play with \u2013 or if he didn't have two insane roommates. Niall would probably mistake him for a sandwich and Harry would hoard all of Pop's attention until Louis felt like the absent father and Louis <i>refuses<\/i> to be an absent father. <br \/><br \/>So, basically, the kittens are the reason Louis doesn't mind opening the pet shop in the middle of a dark, cold winter after working the closing shift at the restaurant the night before. He rubs his sleepy face into Crackle's warm stomach and lets Snap nip at his fingers and Pop curls up on his shoulder, apparently just as tired as Louis. It's 9:30 in the morning, and Louis has just turned the sign to open, prepared for at least an hour to wake up and get his kitten-time in before having to deal with anyone. <br \/><br \/>This Monday, apparently, is the anomaly, though, and really, that's just Louis's luck. The door dings just as Louis closes his heavy eyes, leaning against the shelf behind the desk, and now he has to try to adopt out his favourite creatures on the planet to some unsuspecting customer who's just looking for a dog leash or whatever. <br \/><br \/>He sighs under his breath, clutching the kittens to him as he pulls himself to his feet. Crackle falls off his chest with a tiny squeak, and Snap wriggles away, cowering around his ankles, displeased. Only Pop stays, digging his little claws into the fabric of Louis's sweatshirt. <br \/><br \/>\"Good morning!\" Louis tries to chirp. It's raspy and probably frightening. He winces. <br \/><br \/>The guy in the dog toy aisle jumps a little, turning to face him. \"Oh, hey, good morning.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rubs at his eyes and says, \"Can I help you with anything?\" <br \/><br \/>The guy squints a little at the display in front of him, an assortment of balls and rubber bones and squeaky shit, and he shrugs a little. Louis watches his mouth pull to the side. He's tall, a lot taller than Louis, and he's wearing black skinny jeans and a leather jacket over a Dr. Dre teeshirt. His dark, curly hair is shaped into a floppy quiff. He looks rather twatty in the kind of way Harry would adore. Louis feels immediately uncool in his white keds and cuffed khakis and plain zip-up hoodie. He <i>hates<\/i> feeling uncool. It's too early and he's too tired \u2013 an immediate spark of resentment burrows into his belly. <br \/><br \/>The guy looks back at him after staring at the toys for a moment and he drawls, \"What the fuck do you get for the most spoilt dog on the planet?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and rounds the counter, raising a hand to hold Pop safe against his neck. \"I dunno, mate. Dog toys confuse me, to be honest. They're all the bloody same \u2013 you either throw them or they make a lot of irritating noise.\"<br \/><br \/>Laughing a little, the guy reaches a finger to stroke under Pop's chin. \"Cat person, then?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis turns his face to nose into Pop's furry neck. \"Yeah,\" he sighs. \"Stupid little things.\" <br \/><br \/>The guy's smiling. \"Never had a cat, meself. Do you think that'd be a good toy for a dog?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis raises his eyebrows. \"Not gonna sell you a kitten for slaughter, mate, sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Nah,\" the guy says, still grinning a little. \"But do you think a little thing like that could get along with a little stupid dog?\" <br \/><br \/>Fighting the urge to curl protectively around Pop and hide him away, Louis just shrugs. \"They'd both have to, like, adjust. And assuming the dog hasn't got, like, violent tendencies, I think this little guy could stand his ground. He's a feisty thing.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Hmm.\" The guy's tilting his head, smiling down at Pop and still tickling at him with his long, pale fingers. Pop is staring at them with bemusement through his insane fur, batting lightly. The guy chuckles. \"Can I hold him?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods grudgingly. He really, really doesn't want to give up Pop, but he can't imagine his boss would be pleased if he scared off all potential adopters. He scoops Pop into his palms and breathes, \"Don't you dare like him better than me,\" into his ear before handing him gently to the guy. <br \/><br \/>\"Cheers,\" the guy says. \"I'm Nick, by the way.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods again. \"Louis,\" he says. He watches Nick carefully handle Pop until he's holding him like a baby, cradled in his arms. Nick makes him look even tinier, and Louis is trying incredibly hard not to snatch him back and hide him away. <br \/><br \/>The look on Nick's face is entirely enamoured, though, and Louis sighs to himself. <br \/><br \/>\"I love him,\" Nick coos. \"I love him. I want to take him home and spoil him forever.\" He's tickling into the fluffy fur of Pop's stomach and Pop is squirming around, flailing his paws. <br \/><br \/>\"Our adoption policies are in this pamphlet,\" Louis says, walking back to the desk and pulling a bright blue and yellow slip of paper from the holder. \"It's a ninety quid rate, but all our kittens are spayed and neutered, de-wormed, and fully healthy. We include a crate and enough food for the first week. If he doesn't fit into your lifestyle or you need to return him for whatever reason, we ask you do it sooner rather than later,\" Louis rattles off. <br \/><br \/>Nick nods, not taking his eyes off Pop until the last minute, glancing up at Louis and smiling. \"You kind of look like him,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis arches an eyebrow. \"Come again?\" <br \/><br \/>\"You know,\" Nick says, laughter in his voice. \"Small and sleepy and fluffy.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis scowls a bit \u2013 it's enough he might have to give up his favourite playmate, he's not going to be mocked by some twatty twentysomething. \"Cheers.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, c'mon, love, it's a compliment,\" Nick says, looking back down at Pop. \"Isn't it, buddy? Don't you want to look like cute pet shop boy? Sure you do, don't you. Sure you do.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. <br \/><br \/>Nick looks back up. \"I'll take him. He's going to be Thurston's best friend.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods shortly and rounds the desk, pulling out the paperwork. Nick awkwardly tries to hold Pop as he scrawls his information, eventually setting him down on the desk. Pop immediately stumbles toward Louis, ramming his little soft head into the back of Louis's hand. Scooping him up, Louis stares into his little blue eyes and sticks out his bottom lip, pouting. \"I'll miss you, little guy,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Pop mews back, chewing on the drawstring of Louis's hoodie. Louis scratches behind his ears and drops a kiss onto the top of his head. \"I'll go get the crate and food,\" he says to Nick. Nick nods absently, still writing, and Louis goes to the back, carrying Pop, holding him close to his chest. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next day, at 10:30 in the morning, when Louis is mourning the loss of Pop and pouting his sorrows into Crackle's belly, the door dings. Louis sighs, hoisting himself to his feet, and slings Crackle over his shoulder. Crackle's a weird sort of kitten \u2013 a rag-doll type, content to be handled like a teddy bear. He's got the softest belly in the world, perfect for burrowing faces into. Louis tries to resist when there are customers around. He supposes it looks a little weird. <br \/><br \/>\"I need your help.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis looks up, and Nick's standing there, wringing his hands and looking worried. Louis immediately panics a bit. <br \/><br \/>\"What? Is P\u2013the kitten okay?\" he asks sharply. <br \/><br \/>Nick blinks a bit, before saying, \"Yeah, yes, he's fine, but, like, he wants to play <i>all the time<\/i> and I totally forgot about cat toys, like. I know they like, like, feathers on string and little squishy footballs and allsorts, but like. All the toys we have are dog toys and they're too big for him and\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Louis holds up a hand. \"Alright, mate, relax. I'll show you what we've got.\" He leads Nick toward the cat toy shelves, asking over his shoulder, \"What'd you name him, anyway?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Bertrand,\" Nick answers absently, gazing over the toys with a lost expression. <br \/><br \/>Louis nearly snaps his neck turning to look at Nick. \"<i>Bertrand<\/i>? You named an innocent little kitten <i>Bertrand<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>\"After Bertrand Russell,\" Nick says, reaching out to check the price on a dangly feather toy. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath. <br \/><br \/>Nick glances at him. \"What? It's a perfectly good name.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grunts. <i>Twat twat twat twat<\/i> twat, he thinks. <br \/><br \/>\"What do you suggest, toywise?\" Nick asks. \"Anything you've had particular, er, <i>success<\/i> with?\" He winks lewdly. <br \/><br \/>Louis kind of wants to punch him in the face. He clenches his jaw and picks out the most expensive toys he can think of \u2013 determined to make this pretentious arsehole pay out the nose for <i>Bertrand<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>He may be a little irrationally furious. <br \/><br \/>Shoving the toys in Nick's hand, he stalks back to the counter, picking up Crackle and muffling a frustrated noise into his furry white tummy. Crackle squirms against him, and Louis gets fur up his nose. He sneezes loudly. Nick laughs. <br \/><br \/>Scowling, Louis looks up at him. <br \/><br \/>\"I'll take these,\" Nick says grandly. <br \/><br \/>Ringing them up, Louis says, \"That'll be forty twenty-nine,\" he says. Nick blinks a little, but grins, handing over his credit card. Glancing at the name on it, Louis squints up at him. <br \/><br \/>\"Nicholas Grimshaw? <i>Grimmy<\/i>?\" he asks, incredulous. <br \/><br \/>Nick brightens immediately, preening like a <i>twat<\/i>, Louis thinks. <br \/><br \/>\"You've heard of me?\" Nick says, batting his eyelashes. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs, ripping the receipt from the machine. \"My roommate listens to your show religiously,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Nick raises an eyebrow, putting his hand over his heart. \"And you <i>don't<\/i>? I'm wounded, love.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Don't play the same ten songs over and over again, and maybe I would.\" <br \/><br \/>Laughing, Nick scrawls his signature on the receipt and hands it back. Louis bags up the toys and slides it across the counter. <br \/><br \/>Nodding at Louis, Nick heads to the door and pauses with his hand on the doorknob, turning back to say with a smile, \"Listen tomorrow, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just rolls his eyes. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The thing is, Louis really, really doesn't mean to listen to Nick's show the next morning. But, like, Harry's got it on in the kitchen when Louis is drinking his tea, and usually Louis smacks him until he changes it because, really, every living human on earth has heard that fucking Muse song enough. But this morning, Louis is tired and he spaces it out until he hears that now-familiar voice drawling over the airwaves. He jerks his head up, and blinks at Harry, who blinks back slowly, raising an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>\"I know him,\" Louis says.<br \/><br \/>Harry's forehead furrows. \"Who?\" he rasps. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods in the direction of the radio. \"Nick. Grimmy. Whatever. He stole Pop from me.\" Louis frowns. <br \/><br \/>Harry frowns back, all exaggerated and big eyes. \"I'm sorry, Lou,\" he says, holding out his hand to Louis. Louis rolls his eyes at Harry, at himself, but lets Harry rub over his knuckles comfortingly. <br \/><br \/>But then Harry remembers what he just said and squawks, \"Hold on a minute, you know <i>Grimmy<\/i>? Ohmygod, Lou, is he amazing? Is he <i>so cool<\/i>? God, you have to make him be your friend and bring him over. Or just call me the next time he comes in. Oh my <i>god<\/i>.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis socks Harry in the shoulder. \"He's a pretentious little twat, is what he is. He named Pop <i>Bertrand<\/i>.\" He wrinkles his nose. <br \/><br \/>\"Bertrand,\" Harry repeats slowly. \"Oh my god, he's so <i>smart<\/i>.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis hates Harry with fiery intensity, and he glares at him through the entirety of that fucking Muse song. Harry doesn't notice, just gazes into the distance with an adoring look on his face. Louis just <i>knows<\/i> he's imagining how he'd impress Nick if he met him. <br \/><br \/>\"I hate you,\" Louis says, but Harry shushes him as Nick's voice comes back on the radio. <br \/><br \/><i>This next song is for my little pet shop boy<\/i>, the radio says, before leading into the opening chords of 'Cat Scratch Fever.'<br \/><br \/>Louis's mouth drops open, and Harry turns to look at him with wide eyes. They stare at each other in silence. <br \/><br \/>That afternoon, Louis is getting ready to close \u2013 scooping up Snap and Crackle and easing them into their crates, making sure they have enough food and water, and scratching his goodbyes behind their ears. He's about to flip the sign and close the register when Nick slips in the door. <br \/><br \/>He looks unbearably smug, and Louis still wants to punch him. <br \/><br \/>\"Did you listen?\" he asks, leaning against the counter entirely too familiarly, smirking at Louis. <br \/><br \/>Scoffing, Louis nods. \"Against my will. Ted Nugent? <i>Really<\/i>?\" <br \/><br \/>Nick looks even more smug, and Louis has no idea how that's possible. \"Listen tomorrow, too, yeah?\" He pushes off the desk and winks at Louis. \"Have a good night, pet shop boy.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sticks his tongue out at his back as he saunters out of the shop.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/><i>Another one for my feisty little petshop boy<\/i>, says the radio the next morning. <i>Here's 'Kitty' by the Presidents of the United States of America<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>\"He's <i>in love<\/i> with you, Lou!\" Harry crows. \"I'm so jealous! I am going to faint with jealousy. I am going to curl up and cry in the corner. Lou<i>is<\/i>, oh my god, what are you going to do? You have to ask him out.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis scowls down into his tea. \"I should set him on fire, actually,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Nooooo,\" Harry moans. \"Marry him and have little cuddly babies. I call best man! Oh my <i>god<\/i>, Lou, <i>Grimmy<\/i>.\" He sighs longingly, closing his eyes, a content smile on his face. \"I want to hate you so badly right now.\" <br \/><br \/>\"He's a twat, Haz, honestly,\" Louis says. \"He's <i>unbearably<\/i> pleased with himself and he <i>stole Pop from me<\/i> and he named him after a fucking <i>philosopher<\/i> like a <i>twat<\/i> and he's just... the worst.\" <br \/><br \/>\"He's <i>in love with you<\/i>,\" Harry all but shouts. \"How could you <i>resist<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Easily, shockingly enough.\" <br \/><br \/>He half hopes Nick comes into the shop today, just so he can tell him off. Or at least tell him he's very much interested in woman. Pussy. Louis smirks to himself. Harry watches him suspiciously. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm going to tell him I'm straight,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry narrows his eyes. \"If you make a pussy joke...\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles serenely. <br \/><br \/>Nick doesn't come into the shop that day. Louis closes the shop angrily. Typical fucking wanker.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis gets into the kitchen before Harry the next morning. He makes his tea in silence, drumming on the counter with his fingertips, shifting from foot to foot. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck him,\" he mutters to himself, flipping on the radio. Nick's in the middle of a story, stupid club beats in the background. <i>My kitten is sad<\/i>, he's saying. <i>He keeps pouting around the flat, gazing up at me with these big sad blue eyes. I think he misses someone.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Harry pads in, smacking Louis on the bum, grumbling a good morning. Louis grunts back, ears trained to the radio. He's staring at his tea. <br \/><br \/><i>My kitten \u2013 Bertrand is his name, very clever, I think, a proper solid name for a kitten \u2013 is this little tan squirmy thing, you see, and the first few days he was well excited to have someone to cuddle him every day, but now he's pouting. Finchy, what do you think the problem is?<\/i><br \/><br \/>Harry raises his eyebrows at Louis, a smile threatening to explode over his features. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't say a bloody word,\" Louis growls. Harry's lips twitch and his eyes are <i>shining<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, <i>Lou<\/i>,\" he says, excited. <br \/><br \/>Louis kicks him swiftly in the shins. <br \/><br \/><i>Well, Grimmy<\/i>, a voice that is apparently Finchy's is saying, <i>I don't know. What do you think would make him happy?<\/i><br \/><br \/>Nick hums into the microphone, before saying, <i>I think he needs a fluffy, tan, squirmy, blue-eyed companion. I'll have to see what I can do about that.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis makes a furious noise under his breath, stalking over to the radio and unplugging it. \"What a <i>wanker<\/i>,\" he hisses. <br \/><br \/>Harry's shaking with uncontrollable laughter. \"Oh my god, Lou, oh my <i>god<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut the fuck up!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just smiles at him hugely. \"You love him. Oh my god, I can tell. You think he's adorable. He's <i>wooing<\/i> you. Oh my god.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis throws a dishtowel at him. \"I think he's a complete horrible <i>knob<\/i> and you're not much better. Traitor.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You want him to hold you! You want him to loooove you! You want him to wrap you up in his big, strong arms and rock you to sleep!\" Harry grabs Louis around his waist, burying his own face into Louis's stomach, making cooing noises into his teeshirt. Louis yanks on his hair harshly before thumping him <i>hard<\/i> on the neck. <br \/><br \/>\"You're a shit friend and a shit person,\" Louis mutters.<br \/><br \/>Harry's smile fades a little. \"Louuuu,\" he says. \"A cute guy is in love with you! Why are you being this way?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Firstly, you have no idea if he's cute or not, Haz. He just has the same shit taste in music as you. Secondly, <i>he stole my kitten<\/i>.\" Louis frowns at his hands and slumps back into his chair. <br \/><br \/>Harry rests his chin in his hands. \"Lou, you couldn't have kept that kitten anyway. You're never home and kittens need attention and if he liked me better than he liked you, you'd kill yourself.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis scowls. <br \/><br \/>\"And, furthermore,\" Harry says, \"you're totally lying to yourself because you think he's super hot.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I absolutely, categorically do <i>not<\/i>,\" Louis snaps. <br \/><br \/>\"Then what's the problem?\" Harry blinks innocently. <br \/><br \/>Louis wants to poke him in his stupid big kitten eyes. \"He's\u2013he's just. Intolerable! He rolls in with his fucking <i>quiff<\/i> and <i>leather jacket<\/i> like he thinks he's goddamn <i>Elvis<\/i> and then he fucking <i>takes my kitten<\/i>,\" Louis splutters, \"and then he <i>names it Bertrand<\/i> like a complete twat and now he's making fun of me to thousands of people who just want to fucking hear Muse for the eleventy billionth time!\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's stupid smile is back. \"You looooove him.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis kicks him again and goes to get dressed for work. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>At 11:30, Louis is sprawled out on the floor, letting Snap and Crackle wrestle on his belly. He's got his eyes closed, letting them thump around on top of him. It's kind of like a particularly spastic massage. Except when he gets kitten-butt in his face. <br \/><br \/>The door dings and Louis hears the now fucking familiar click of boots on the wood floors. He sighs to himself, cracking an eye open. Nick is standing over him, peering down in his face. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh!\" Nick says when Louis looks at him. \"Brilliant, you're not dead!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes again. \"I wish I was. Or I wish <i>you<\/i> were.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Darling, you wound me,\" Nick says flippantly. \"I'm here on a mission, I'll have you know.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grunts. <br \/><br \/>\"Bertrand's depressed, sweetheart.\" Nick slides down the wall to sit next to Louis's head. <br \/><br \/>\"Maybe because his name is <i>Bertrand<\/i> and he's owned by a <i>wanker<\/i>,\" Louis mutters. <br \/><br \/>Nick laughs. \"If I dangle my fingers in your face will you bite at them, too?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I don't know what you want <i>me<\/i> to do about it. You're the one who stole him away from his soulmate.\" <br \/><br \/>Nick raises his eyebrows. <br \/><br \/>\"Me,\" Louis clarifies. <br \/><br \/>\"Aww!\" Nick looks delighted. \"You miss him!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis frowns. \"Of course I do. He was my best friend.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Perfect! You have to come visit him.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I absolutely am not going to your flat. You're awful.\" Louis sits up with a groan, spilling kittens onto the floor. He leans against the desk and brings his knees up to his chest, glaring at Nick. Nick smiles back, eyes soft. <br \/><br \/>\"What have I done, love?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis squints over at him. \"I hear your stupid show every stupid morning at stupid o'clock and you're stupid.\" <br \/><br \/>Nick grins. \"I'm charming. You think I'm charming.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and bangs his head against the desk. \"You and my roommate would get along. Can I call him in here and maybe you can charm him instead, how about that?\" <br \/><br \/>Nick hums, as if considering it. Louis cracks open an eye. He doesn't honestly know what he'd do if Nick said yes, because Harry would be here in a heartbeat and if Nick took Harry from him <i>as well as<\/i> Pop, he'd probably have to turn Nick over to the mob or something. <br \/><br \/>\"Nah,\" Nick says, finally, grinning. \"I think I'll keep you. Have you got paperwork, too? Do you come with a crate?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis kicks him in the shin, or he tries to, but Nick just grabs his ankle and strokes his thumb over it. \"Come over after work. See the kitten and have dinner with me,\" he says softly. <br \/><br \/>Halfheartedly attempting to free his foot from Nick's grasp, he sighs. \"Fine,\" he says grudgingly. \"But only because of Pop.\" <br \/><br \/>Nick smiles, then, big and brilliant. It makes him look younger, Louis thinks uncharitably. \"Of course. <i>Bertrand<\/i>,\" he corrects, smirking.<br \/><br \/>Louis shoots a rubber band from the floor at Nick's forehead. It hits his quiff and stays there. Nick sighs and it sounds fond. \"You're just like him,\" he says. \"I'll pick you up at closing.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sticks out his tongue. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis is oddly hyper and anxious for the rest of the day, and it's slow, so he has nothing to do but tease the kittens and rearrange all of the paperclips into rude words across the desk. He does <i>not<\/i> google image search Nick Grimshaw or go through his twitter or read his wikipedia page. Definitely not. But if he stumbles across pictures of Pop being held against a chest covered in twatty indie band teeshirts, he's not gonna admit to it. <br \/><br \/>When 5:30 finally rolls around, he tries to drag out closing as long as possible. He gives Snap and Crackle extra cuddles, checking on them three times after putting them away. He counts the cash in the register as slowly as possible, double checking his math. There's a posh car idling outside the shop, and a stupid, quiffed twat leant against it, smoking a cigarette. <br \/><br \/>Louis frowns down at his outfit: cuffed light blue trousers and a thin white henley of Harry's and glances back out at Nick, who's dressed in his apparent <i>uniform<\/i> of black skinny jeans and an oversized jumper underneath a leather jacket. Louis <i>hates<\/i> feeling uncool. He fixes his fringe primly and slowly makes his way to the door, double checking the lock before turning to face Nick. <br \/><br \/>Nick smiles slowly at him, eyes looking him up and down. Louis gives him a half-smile back. \"Wow me, Grimshaw. Wine me and dine me.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, darling, I plan to,\" comes the smug reply, and Louis's eyes roll of their own accord. <br \/><br \/>Nick holds the passenger door open for Louis, and he slides inside. Nick rounds the car, dropping into his seat and turning the key. The Beatles come blaring out of the stereo, and Louis sighs, grinning to himself as he realises the song is 'Leave My Kitten Alone.'<br \/><br \/>\"I really hate you,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Nick smiles out into the traffic. \"Oh, I know.\" <br \/><br \/>Twenty minutes later, fighting London rush hour traffic, Nick pulls up to a series of posh flats in Primrose Hill. Louis steps out of the car gingerly, afraid of <i>breaking the sidewalk<\/i> or some shit, because, honestly, it's probably worth more than he is. Nick comes around and guides Louis toward the door of his flat by the small of his back. Louis's skin feels too tight. He is most certainly out of place. <br \/><br \/>\"Relax, love,\" Nick says, glancing at him. \"Everything alright?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Bit out of my element, to be honest. There's no, like, trash on the ground. Or drunks vomiting in alleys.\" <br \/><br \/>Nick chuckles. \"Well, I have a lot of wine, if you'd like to fix that.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Louis says. \"Just lead me to my kitten.\" <br \/><br \/>Unlocking the door, Nick steps into the front hallway of his massive flat, ushering Louis inside. \"Bertrand!\" he calls. \"Bertie!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"<i>Bertie.<\/i> God, poor thing,\" he mutters. <br \/><br \/>A tiny tan ball of fluff comes skittering across the floor, running headfirst into the doorjam between the living room and the hallway. \"Pop!\" Louis cries, sinking to his knees and holding out his fingers. Pop regains his bearings and barrels over to Louis, sniffing cautiously at him first, before piling in his lap. Louis laughs delightedly, falling back onto his bum and holding Pop close to his chest. \"Hey, love,\" he whispers into his fur. \"How are you? You look good. I've missed you.\" <br \/><br \/>Pop immediately starts kneading at his stomach as Louis runs his fingers through his long fur. He glances up to where Nick is still standing, watching them fondly. A small smile plays across Nick's mouth. <br \/><br \/>\"He missed you,\" Nick says. <br \/><br \/>Louis huffs a little sigh, burying his smile into Pop's side as he scrabbles up Louis's chest to burrow into his neck. Louis stands gingerly, holding the kitten against him. He looks up at Nick, who's watching Louis hesitantly now. Louis arches an eyebrow, questioning. <br \/><br \/>Nick shakes his head and tosses his jacket up onto a hook beside the door. \"Would you like a glass of wine?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Sure,\" he says, following Nick into the kitchen, unable to stop smiling as Pop starts gnawing on his hair. Nick stands at the granite countertop, pouring two glasses of wine and sliding one over to Louis. He's still got this hesitant expression on his face. <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Louis asks, exasperated.<br \/><br \/>Nick opens his mouth and pauses, closing it again. Louis gives him a look. Nick chuckles and shakes his head. \"This is stupid,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>What<\/i> is?\" Louis widens his eyes. <br \/><br \/>Nick shrugs, still chuckling a little. \"You do know this was meant to be a date, right?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks for a few seconds, staring up at Nick. He shakes his head slightly, before turning to the kitten on his shoulder. \"Hey, Pop,\" he says. \"Your owner is probably the thickest man alive.\" <br \/><br \/>Pop presses his paw to Louis's cheek and Louis grins down at him before setting him gently on the floor. He turns back to Nick, who's watching him, biting his cheek. Louis rolls his eyes and grabs the hem of Nick's stupid jumper, pulling him around the island and in front of Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"Of course I know it's a date, you insufferable twat,\" Louis grumbles, but smiles up at him. <br \/><br \/>Nick grins back and fits his hands around Louis's hips. \"Oh, good,\" he mutters. \"Then I'm gonna kiss you.\" <br \/><br \/>\"If you mu\u2013\" Louis starts, but his reply is muffled by Nick's lips pressed against his own. Nick's hands tighten briefly, before one slides around to press against the small of Louis's back, pulling him into Nick's body, so Louis has to wind an arm around Nick's neck and press up onto his tiptoes. <br \/><br \/>Nick pulls back after a moment, before it can really turn into anything, and drops a kiss onto the tip of Louis's nose. \"I've found a way to shut you up!\" he crows. <br \/><br \/>Louis's fingers find a lock of Nick's hair and he tugs sharply. \"Smug fucking bastard,\" he says, and god <i>damn it<\/i>, but it comes out fond. <br \/><br \/>Nick pinches his side and Pop bites at his ankle and Louis sighs. \"You still have to wine and dine me,\" he says, untangling himself from Nick and scooping Pop back up into his arms. Pop makes a small noise and scrambles up to rest on the join of Louis's shoulder and neck and Nick scratches first behind Pop's ear and then Louis's. <br \/><br \/>\"My little pet shop boys,\" he coos. <br \/><br \/>Louis kicks him in the shin.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:14560","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/14560.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=14560"}}],"title":"how do you like your blue-eyed boy? (hs\/lt)","published":"2013-01-23T14:01:50Z","updated":"2013-01-23T14:01:50Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: how do you like your blue-eyed boy?<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~9,000<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. louis likes pills and harry likes whiskey and the church basement smells like sadness and mold. spoiler alert there's a happy ending.<br \/><b>warnings<\/b>: this deals heavily with addiction\/recovery and drug\/alcohol use.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: sorry, etc. i can never write what i want to write, but i guess i wrote this for me. thanks and love to <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"checkthemargins\" lj:user=\"checkthemargins\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/checkthemargins.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/checkthemargins.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>checkthemargins<\/b><\/a><\/span>. <br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/><br \/>The metal folding chair under Louis's bum is unforgiving. The beige man at the head of the circle \u2013 do circles have heads? All the chairs are centered around this man, at least \u2013 nods to Louis, as if he is slightly thick and unable to gather it is his turn to speak. <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees. He fiddles with the sleeves of his oversized jumper, pulling them down over his hands, balling his fists. His hands are shaking slightly. He's used to that. <br \/><br \/>Opening his mouth, he draws in a breath, and then unclenches his left hand, shaking it out of the sleeve and glancing down at it. \"I'm Louis,\" he reads, \"and I'm addicted to pills.\" <br \/><br \/>They're all in a church basement. All of these fuckups gathered together to breathe this musty air and <i>heal<\/i>, or something similar. It's called taking <i>initiative<\/i>, Louis has learned, and it's admirable and they should all be proud of themselves, apparently. Louis thinks that maybe it's less admirable that he was court-ordered here, but he thinks he's probably not the only one. Glancing around the circle of fuckups, he notices one boy with dark, almost black hair slumped irreverently in his metal folding chair, looking thoroughly unimpressed. <br \/><br \/>The man at the head of the circle \u2013 Peter, Louis thinks his name is \u2013 nods at him encouragingly. \"Welcome, Louis,\" he says, and Louis really tries not to roll his eyes. Thanks, arsehole, he says in his head. He balls his fists in his jumper again, tightening his arms around his knees. His fringe falls in his eyes. He leaves it. <br \/><br \/>Beige-Peter is still looking at him, all big eyes and soft encouragement. \"What kind of pills in particular, Louis? Can you name them for us? Identity is a huge part of the process to overcome.\"<br \/><br \/>Right. Louis does roll his eyes now, because like fuck is he going to be spoken at like he's a goddamn five year old. \"Anything,\" he says shortly. \"Uppers to get me out of bed, painkillers to make me nice, sleeping pills to do their job. I don't care, really.\" His hands are shaking again. <br \/><br \/>The circle of fuckups is staring at him. Twenty four eyes, Louis counts. He doesn't meet any of them. There's a boy two seats down from Louis, sprawled lazily. His eyes are heavy lidded, green. His wide mouth is set in an amused smirk. Louis curls his lip back at him. The boy grins, flipping his hair out of his eyes. It's curly. Louis looks away. <br \/><br \/>Peter sighs. \"Identity, Louis, is\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't exactly look at the label, mate.\" Louis meets his gaze, glaring. Peter backs down, nodding and scribbling something on his notepad. <br \/><br \/>The girl next to him is addicted to cocaine. Her name is Cher. <br \/><br \/>The boy with the eyes and the curly hair smiles around the circle when everyone's gaze turns to him. \"I'm Harry,\" he drawls, \"and I'm an alcoholic. I prefer whiskey sours.\" He grins at Peter. Peter sighs again, but this time there's a hint of fondness. \"Welcome back, Harry. We've missed you.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry beams. Louis's fingernails are digging into his hand. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>There's free coffee at the end of the meeting. Louis doesn't fill his all the way up. His hands shake too much for that. <br \/><br \/>\"Haven't seen you here before,\" a slow voice says behind him. <br \/><br \/>Louis turns around. Harry's standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his fucking <i>jeggings<\/i>. Louis blinks. \"Yeah,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Harry keeps smiling. \"I like your jumper.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glances down at himself. He forgot what he was wearing. Some old jumper of Aiden's. \"Thanks,\" he says. \"I like your...\" he trails off. That's how it goes, right? Compliment back. \"Eyes,\" he finishes.<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Thanks, mate. So, what brings you here?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Coercion.\" Louis stares down at his coffee, watching it tremble in his hand. Harry giggles a little.<br \/><br \/>\"Want to come out for a drink?\" he says. \"Me and Zayn\u2013\" Harry nods over to the boy with the dark hair and the combat boots, the one who looked like he'd rather eat nails than sit through a session of fuckups emoting. He was addicted to Ritalin. \"\u2013are heading out.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis looks at the clock. It's 8:34. \"I thought you're an alcoholic.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods and his curls bounce. \"Yep!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"I'm gonna pass. See you later.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Okay! Next week then,\" Harry says, smiling sunnily. \"Have a good night.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sure.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis drops his untouched coffee in the garbage bin as he walks out the door. He balls his hands in his sleeves and hunches his shoulders, making himself as small as possible. <br \/><br \/>The tube station is too bright, too fluorescent. Louis squints as he reaches the bottom step into the light. It's not crowded. There's an old man huddled in his coat in the corner, shaking. Louis nods at him, some sort of solidarity thing. The man bares his teeth and leers. Louis hunches, fingernails biting into his palm. He forgot a jacket. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The flat is cold when he gets back \u2013 he thinks he forgot to pay for heating. Hopefully the water is still on. <br \/><br \/>\"Hello,\" he calls out dully. <br \/><br \/>There's a rustling on the couch. \"Yeah,\" Aiden says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says back. \"You're still here.\" <br \/><br \/>Aiden shrugs. His hair is falling over his forehead and he's wearing a jumper that's not his or Louis's. Louis feels his jaw tighten. <br \/><br \/>\"Matt's in Manchester for a show.\" Aiden stretches out lazily. <br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Louis responds. \"You could at least pay rent if you're going to keep living here.\" <br \/><br \/>They broke up a month ago. Louis was going to keep the flat, because Aiden had been sleeping with Matt for two months already, and he said Matt wanted him to move in. Louis had agreed numbly. It was a very numb transaction. He'd known about Matt for weeks, he just hadn't found the energy to care. That became a problem when Louis came home to Matt and Aiden fucking in his \u2013 their \u2013 bed. It became a problem Louis had to deal with <i>at that moment<\/i>, and all Louis could do is squeeze his eyes shut and ask them to leave. Louis can't remember exactly what happened. He might have actually given them directions to the nearest TraveLodge. <br \/><br \/>It ended with Aiden being furious with him for not caring, and Louis staring blankly back at him. He was pretty sure Aiden had no right to be this angry, because, shit, Aiden was the one cheating. That was the oxy month, Louis thinks. Nothing hurts with oxy. Aiden said it wasn't cheating if he was dating a zombie. Louis shrugged. <br \/><br \/>But Aiden never actually ended up leaving. Well, he left that night, and he stayed away for about a week, but then he came back. Not back to Louis, but back to the flat. His clothes were still in the dresser, his shoes still by the door, his toothbrush still by the sink, his weird flaxseed still in the fridge next to Louis's expired milk. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm not living here,\" Aiden says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh.\" Louis drops his keys on the counter and turns on the kettle. \"Then why are you here so fucking often?\" <br \/><br \/>Aiden rolls off the couch and stumbles over to the counter, pulling out a stool and plopping down. He rests his chin on his hand and studies Louis. \"I missed you?\" he tries.<br \/><br \/>Louis feels himself smirk. He doesn't look back up at Aiden. \"I'll just bet. Do you need money? Or is there trouble in paradise?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Aiden says, chuckling emptily, \"if I needed money, you'd be the last person I'd come to.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. The kettle is almost whistling \u2013 there's a weak hum at least. That should be warm enough. Louis wonders when the gas and electric will be shut off. He doesn't think he paid those either. <br \/><br \/>\"You look good.\" Aiden's still talking. Louis has gotten quite adept at tuning him out. \"I mean, considering. Have you been eating?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes at his tea. <br \/><br \/>\"What are you on this week?\" Aiden continues. <br \/><br \/>The rim of his mug is stained with coffee. Louis remembers he meant to buy dish soap. \"I've made the switch to meth,\" Louis says dryly. \"And I've decided you're the one I want to write my eulogy. Love of my life, and all.\" <br \/><br \/>Aiden snorts. \"You write it and I'll read it, how about that?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Deal.\" <br \/><br \/>Aiden's still looking at him thoughtfully. \"Who'd come to your funeral?\" <br \/><br \/>It's one of those questions that should probably make Louis flinch, send a stab of hurt through him. It doesn't. It's a fair question. He ignores it. \"I went to Narcotics Anonymous tonight,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh?\" Aiden's interested now. \"How'd that happen?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Undercover cop selling me MDMA.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Shit, Lou.\" <br \/><br \/>\"It was in the basement of that Church of England on 8th. Couldn't breathe. Black mold.\"  Louis's hands are shaking again. He sets the tea down carefully and leans back against the fridge, finally making eye contact with Aiden. <br \/><br \/>Aiden just studies him. \"Do you think it'll help?\" he asks, and there's not even a thread of hope in that sentence. Louis considers being offended. <br \/><br \/>He shrugs instead. \"It was either kids my age working the whole disaffected youth angle or middle aged mothers whingeing on about their children breaking their hearts or their husbands leaving them or what the fuck ever. Whatever.\" <br \/><br \/>Nodding, Aiden says, \"Do you think you'll go back?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis tips his head back, letting it bang against the fridge. A magnet falls and Louis hears it break. He thinks about beige-Peter and his sad, hopeful eyes. He thinks about the black-haired Zayn with the skinny fingers. He thinks about alcoholic Harry and his big eyes and curls. <br \/><br \/>\"It's on Tuesday nights,\" Louis says, \"and it's not like I've got a boyfriend or anything.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Aiden agrees. \"Well, good for you, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Louis dumps the rest of his tea in the sink and walks to his bedroom. \"Maybe I'll find God,\" he calls behind him. <br \/><br \/>He imagine Aiden flips him off, but he doesn't turn to check. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Did you hear Snow Patrol is releasing a new album?\" says the boy who is doggedly flirting with Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't look up from the sticker gun. \u00a36.99 stamps out, over and over again. This stack is mostly old Paul McCartney and Wings CDs with a mix of Peter Gabriel. He wishes some people didn't have ears, but he can't control that. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis mutters. \"Snow Patrol are terrible.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" says the boy, pausing. \"What do you like, then?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Creed.\" Louis stands, shoving the stack of priced CDs to the corner of the counter, grabbing a handful to put away. He doesn't look at the boy. He's got sandy brown hair and big eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Really?\" the boy says. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes, flipping through the Ms till he gets to McCartney. \"No, not really.\" <br \/><br \/>The boy laughs, uncomfortable. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath, counts to ten. <br \/><br \/>The boy says, \"There's a show next week. The Walkmen. If... if you were interested.\" <br \/><br \/>This is sad, really. Like watching a three-legged dog chase a particularly vengeful cat. Louis almost feels bad for this boy. <br \/><br \/>\"Not really,\" Louis says again. \"Sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>The boy is quiet for a moment. Louis glances back at him. He's staring at his feet, hands  twisting together, cheeks flushed. Christ. Louis says, \"Look, what's your name?\" <br \/><br \/>The boy looks up, blinking, hope spreading through his face. \"Liam,\" he says breathlessly. <br \/><br \/>\"Right. Liam.\" Louis turns back to shoving the CDs on the shelf. \"I just got out of something, you know? I'm taking some me time. Finding myself. Reexamining my feelings on Creed.\" <br \/><br \/>Liam lets out an awkward laugh, again. \"Okay. That's... good, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis's hands are shaking around the CDs in his grip. Liam is one of those people who sees the best in everything, apparently. \"Necessary, one might say,\" Louis mutters.<br \/><br \/>\"I work at the Triple Door, down the road. If you ever wanna, like, stop by for a drink.\" Liam's still gazing at him with big hopeful eyes. His eyes remind him of beige-Peter's. Louis tries to hide his shudder. <br \/><br \/>\"Thanks, Liam,\" Louis says pointedly. <br \/><br \/>\"Right.\" Liam nods to himself. \"Okay. Nice to meet you...\" <br \/><br \/>\"Louis.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Right. Louis. Nice to meet you.\" The bells on the door handle clang together as it closes behind Liam. <br \/><br \/>Ed stumbles out of the office, giving Louis a look that means he heard everything. \"You're a twat,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"It was really sad, mate. I felt like I ran over a dog and then needed to put it out of it's misery.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Look at you, caring about other people,\" Ed coos. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck off.\" <br \/><br \/>Ed shoves him a little as he walks past to the desk. \"Hey, so, I might have a gig at some pub in Camden \u2013 some Pink Floyd tribute act backed out \u2013 so I'll need to bunk off an hour early. That chill?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"What's in it for me?\" <br \/><br \/>Ed rolls his eyes, but digs in his pocket. Louis wanders over, curious. Ed pulls out three white pills. <br \/><br \/>\"Vics?\" Louis asks, incredulous. \"Am I fourteen?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Come on, mate, I need the money.\" Ed grabs Louis's hand and drops the vicodin in his palm. Louis closes his fingers around them before they can shake out. <br \/><br \/>\"Fine. Only because I love you.\" <br \/><br \/>Ed grins at him. \"You're a prince among men.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Don't I know it,\" Louis says. He fingers the pills in his hand, popping one in his mouth, swallowing dry. <br \/><br \/>Ed says, \"You should come by, though, once you close. Should be good.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I'm a busy man.\" <br \/><br \/>Shaking his head, Ed puts on <i>Band on the Run<\/i>. Louis hates him. <br \/><br \/>\"Should come out, though,\" Ed says. \"You might have a laugh.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles to himself. His shoulders are starting to feel looser. \"We'll see.\" <br \/><br \/>Ed leaves at 5:30 and Louis has an hour and a half of nothing to do but think. He sets the two remaining pills on the counter and stares down at them. He tosses one in the air and lets it fall down his throat. The other one sits on the counter. <br \/><br \/>It feels left out. <br \/><br \/>Louis pets it lovingly and places it gently on his tongue. <br \/><br \/>The bells on the door clang and Louis doesn't look up. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" comes a slow, deep voice. \"Is Ed here?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Nope,\" Louis drawls. \"But if you're looking for the <i>perfect<\/i> album to get into a bird's trousers, I can probably help you out just as well.\" <br \/><br \/>A body comes to stand in front of the counter, and it's still speaking. \"Oh! Hey! You're Louis with the pills!\" <br \/><br \/>Louis looks up, eyes narrowed, and finds himself staring at alcoholic Harry with the eyes and the hair. \"Oh,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi!\" Harry looks just as genuinely pleased to see Louis as he was last night. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are sparkling and Louis smells whiskey. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods at him. \"Ed's playing a gig in Camden.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry pauses for a moment, then grins again. \"Brilliant for him!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis props his head up on his hand and gazes at Harry for a moment. \"You a friend of his?\" he asks.<br \/><br \/>Harry nods, curls bobbing. \"He crashed on my couch for like three months. We're good mates.\"<br \/><br \/>Scoffing, Louis shakes his head fondly. \"Parasite.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Anyway,\" he says, \"now I want to know the perfect album to get into someone's trousers. Do your magic, Louis with the pills.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis squints over at him, but slides off his stool. \"Just Louis will do.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry says. \"Just Louis, then.\" <br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Louis leads them down the aisle. \"So, give me some information. What kind of music does she like? What's her taste run toward?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry hums consideringly. \"Well, I just met them the other day. I don't know them very well at all. Only exchanged a few words, you know.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pauses. \"So you're trying to woo a girl you've only just met with a CD and you've not even got a clue what music she likes?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry tilts his head to the side, as if Louis brought up a valid point. \"Fair enough,\" he says. \"What's <i>your<\/i> favourite album, then?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis balls his hands in the sleeves of his jumper and hunches his shoulders. \"Alright.\" He leads them back farther into the shop, back toward the shelves of vinyl. Digging around for a moment, he yanks out an old, dusty record and shoves it into Harry's hands. \"Bob Dylan, <i>Hard Rain<\/i>. S'like finding religion.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry runs his hands over it curiously. \"I'll take it.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis raises his eyebrows. <br \/><br \/>Harry grins and shrugs. \"Come to the Ed's gig, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Buy that and I'll come.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I already said I'd buy it, didn't I?\" Harry digs in his pocket and pulls out a crumpled fiver. He slips in in Louis's shaking hand. Louis gives Harry a look but nods, going back to the register and handing Harry two quid change.<br \/><br \/>\"I close in fifteen minutes,\" Louis tells him. <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles. \"I'll wait.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The tube station is still too fluorescent, too bright. Louis forgot a jacket again. Harry is beside him, bouncing a little with each step. The record is under his arm. Louis's hands are shaking. <br \/><br \/>\"Are you cold?\" Harry asks suddenly, concerned. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I'm always cold.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You should wear a coat!\" Harry's already shrugging out of his peacoat, draping it over Louis's shoulders. He's only wearing a thin henley underneath. <br \/><br \/>\"Won't you be cold now?\" Louis asks, instinctively curling back into the wool. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little. \"I'm hot-blooded, check it and see. I've got a fever of\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Louis raises a shaking hand and covers Harry's mouth tightly. He can feel Harry's warm laugh against his fingers. \"You're mental,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Harry waggles his eyebrows and Louis lets himself smile at him. He takes his hand from Harry's mouth and shoves his arms into the sleeves of the jacket, pulling it around him. It's too big, the cuffs falling past the tips of his fingers, the shoulders too broad. Harry just winks and links his arm through Louis's. <br \/><br \/>The pub is warm and crowded, dark except for the orange glow coming from the stage. The stage is empty, but Louis can see Ed's guitar leaning on a stand next to the amp. His lips quirk up. \"Guess he got the gig,\" he says to Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at the stage and his eyes brighten even more. \"Excellent! Ed's such a talent.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. Someone bumps into him from behind and he hunches into himself. Harry's hand presses into the small of his back and Louis finds himself being guided toward the bar. <br \/><br \/>\"Let me buy you a drink,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"Whiskey coke.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry winks, calling over to the bartender for a whiskey coke and a whiskey sour. He slides a tenner across the bar when the drinks arrive. Harry grabs them both, pulling Louis's out of his reach. He looks to Louis thoughtfully. <br \/><br \/>\"You on anything?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods, and slides the glass to him. He smiles a little and leans in, whispering in Louis's ear. \"I know you're lying.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis flinches. \"I'm not.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just tips his drink in Louis's direction with a silent <i>cheers<\/i>. \"Can't lie to a liar, love.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a long drink, and Harry does too. Louis watches the line of Harry's throat as he swallows, flushing slightly when Harry catches his eye. The noise swells; Ed is onstage. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The gig is good. Great, really. Ed onstage alone with his guitar and an amp, getting the crowd to clap out the beat, throwing in dirty lyric changes. <br \/><br \/>By the encore, Harry's got his arm draped over Louis's shoulder, his head resting on Louis's head. Louis would pretend his own arm isn't wound around Harry's waist, but he can't. Louis would pretend it's because Harry needs help standing, but he can't. Harry's warm and his fingers are cold so he tucks them against the tight skin of his hip and doesn't close his eyes. When he closes his eyes, the world starts to spin again. <br \/><br \/>Ed's done. He's setting his guitar down and he's blowing kisses and he's yelling <i>you beautiful motherfuckers<\/i> at the crowd and the lights are making his shock of orange hair stand out like a halo. His smile is big, easy. <br \/><br \/>Louis isn't jealous. Lights make him look sickly, pale, shadowed. He doesn't smile easy. He's not got a halo. <br \/><br \/>Ed jumps down, heading toward the bar, towards Louis and Harry. Louis wants to unwind himself from Harry, but he pretends he can't. Harry doesn't either. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou! You came!\" Ed sounds delighted and Louis smiles back at him. <br \/><br \/>\"Wouldn't miss this, mate. You were unreal.\" <br \/><br \/>Ed beams and notices Harry. \"Haz, you sly bastard, what the fuck are you doing here!\" he yells into Harry's ear as he grabs him in a headlock. Harry's arm falls from Louis's shoulder and Louis delicately takes his hand from Harry's hip. <br \/><br \/>\"I stopped by the shop to see if you wanted a pint and I heard from Louis here that you were playing a gig! I couldn't <i>not<\/i> come, mate!\" Harry and Ed descend into playful slaps and easy punches until Ed just laughs. <br \/><br \/>\"Brilliant! And you met Lou? Let's all go back to your flat, mate, I need to get <i>drunk<\/i>.\" Ed laughs again. <br \/><br \/>\"Sounds like a strong choice,\" Harry says. \"Lou?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis hesitates, but Ed's grabbing his arm and Harry's looking all <i>imploring<\/i> and Louis isn't even sure if his flat has electricity anymore so he shrugs, looks down at his feet for a moment, before saying, \"Sure.\" <br \/><br \/>Ed claps his hands together, delighted. \"Text Niall, get him over. And Zayn! Shit, brilliant, I haven't seen the lads in so long.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry lights up, pulling out his phone and texting rapidly. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a pull of his third drink, a long one, trying to steady his heartbeat. He looks at Ed. Ed meets his eyes and his forehead pulls down. He leans over to Louis, whispering, \"You alright, mate? They're solid lads. Don't worry.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis counts to ten, with deep breaths. \"Yeah. It's fine. Have you got anything?\" <br \/><br \/>Ed bites his lip, thinking. \"I've got some E and some more vics. Either or both?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Both.\" Louis holds out a shaking hand. <br \/><br \/>Ed pulls out a baggy from his pocket, stepping in close to Louis with his back to anyone who might be watching. He drops four pills into Louis's hand, clasping his own around it, winding their fingers together briefly. \"You should really take care of yourself, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, yeah.\" Louis rolls his eyes. \"I owe you.\" <br \/><br \/>Ed looks at him for a moment. \"Nah. I'm glad you came tonight.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry drops his phone back in his pocket and Louis balls the pills in his fist. \"Shall we, lads?\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>\"Let's get the fuck outta here.\" Ed's laughing again, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulders. Louis watches the way Harry's smile spreads across his whole face, pulling his eyes into heavy-lidded slits. Louis watches the way his red lips part around his white teeth. They're stumbling toward the door and Louis drops behind briefly, swallowing the pills dry. Before stepping out onto the street, Harry pauses, glancing back to Louis, and holding out his hand. <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows again, feeling his social graces sliding down his esophagus with nothing but saliva to ease the way. He presses his fingers into Harry's. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Ed was right \u2013 the lads are lovely. Very <i>laddish<\/i> in a way Louis hasn't felt for a long time. Niall's blonde, loud, Irish, and fucking crazy. He arrived at Harry's flat with a loud knock and a hug for everyone \u2013 even Louis, grabbing his face and pressing two kisses to his cheeks loudly. <br \/><br \/>\"He's dating a French girl,\" Harry had said, rolling his eyes and submitting to his own cheek kisses from Niall. Niall just laughed and scrubbed a hand through Harry's hair before moving on to Ed. <br \/><br \/>Zayn arrived and let himself in, walking with a slow roll that Louis hasn't seen since leaving the north. His eyes are bright and his hair is quiffed high. He nodded to everyone, eyes lingering on Louis curiously, but just offered him a slow smile. \"Good to see you, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grinned back, offered a short, \"Louis,\" as a reminder. Zayn nodded again, winking. <br \/><br \/>Now they're piled on the couch. Well, Ed, Louis, and Zayn are on the couch. Niall's on the ground, mixing drinks precariously on the coffee table, and Harry's laying on the floor on his back with his feet in Zayn's lap as if he were about to break into a string of sit-ups. <br \/><br \/>They're drinking whiskey. Ed's got his guitar and he and Niall are screaming 'Wonderwall' at the top of their lungs. Zayn's texting with one hand and holding Harry's ankle with the other. Harry's smiling at the ceiling and Louis alternately. <br \/><br \/>Louis folds his shaking hands between his thighs, laughing when he knows he's supposed to. <br \/><br \/>Harry sits up, sliding his feet off Zayn. \"Hey,\" he says. \"Hey, Lou, come here.\" He stands up and wanders to the door of the living room, pausing and waiting for Louis to unfold himself from the couch. Louis grabs both of their drinks before following. <br \/><br \/>Harry leads them to the kitchen. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Louis says, leaning against the counter, arching an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Harry just smiles, grabs Louis's hand and pulls him in. \"Wanted to do this, hope it's okay,\" is all he says before kissing him messily. <br \/><br \/>It tastes like whiskey, but that's okay. Louis rocks into it, presses up on his toes slightly, wrapping his arm around Harry's neck when he feels Harry's hand press into his lower back. Harry walks them so they're against the cool steel of the fridge, Louis's back flush against it, Harry crowding around him. He pulls back, staring down at Louis, smiling slightly. His eyes are glassy and green, shining like his lips, and his hair is falling down his forehead. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks up at him, knows his eyes are hazy as well, cocktails of chemicals running through him. This is easy. He knows how to do this. <br \/><br \/>\"You fucked up?\" Harry asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"No. You?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Harry says, smiling still. He's lying. <br \/><br \/>\"Can't lie to a liar,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry hums slightly, slumping forward to press a kiss to Louis's neck, biting down on his collarbone. \"Been thinking about your hips,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Louis says breathlessly. Harry's hands are wandering now, from his back to his arse to his hips to his thighs and up to his stomach then ribs and chest \u2013 his hands are huge and warm and covering so much of Louis and Louis's head is spinning. <br \/><br \/>His own hands are still on Harry's neck and he slides them into Harry's hair, pulling slightly. Harry's eyes flutter and he bites down again. There's going to be a bruise on Louis's collarbone. Harry's breath is panting out, hot and wet, and Louis pushes his hips forward, feeling Harry push back, hard in his tight trousers. Louis feels light, alive, twitching desperately in his skin, but pliant and silk. <br \/><br \/>\"Have you got a bed?\" he asks and Harry laughs, his hand sliding back down to palm at Louis's arse, squeezing tightly. He starts walking them again, arms tight around Louis so he doesn't trip, out into the hallway and down until Louis feels his back hit a door, feels it swing open, and they're still walking. Louis's knees hit a bed and he lets himself fall, easy, onto the comforter. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs dirtily. Switching on the lamp next to the bed, he digs around, pulling out a condom and lube, setting them on the table. He turns away briefly, fussing with something on the messy desk by the window, and suddenly there's a hiss and a crackle \u2013 the sound of a record player coming to life. Dylan's voice fills the room, low volume, but spreading through the silence. Harry comes back to the bed, looking down at Louis, the light casting shadows across his face. Louis stares back at him, waiting for direction. <br \/><br \/>Harry seems to sense that, his face relaxing into a fond expression. He kneels down, bracketing Louis's hips, and slides his hands up Louis's jumper, gently untangling his arms from the sleeves and pulling it over his head. He kisses Louis again, then, hand flat on his chest, drawing little circles on Louis's ribs. Louis closes his eyes, lets his hands feel out Harry's broad shoulders, sliding them down over his arms, then grabbing for his hips. Harry pulls back, tugging his own shirt off, then leans back down, pressing their chests together. Louis feels his breath catch at the all the warm skin holding him down.<br \/><br \/>\"How do you do this?\" Harry mutters into the hollow of Louis's throat. <br \/><br \/>Louis slides his fingers back into Harry's hair, combing through once, before pulling his hand out and grabbing for the condom on the nightstand. He sits up a little, so Harry's on his thighs. They're still dressed from the waist down, trousers and boots and pants. He presses the condom into Harry's steady hand. \"You're wearing that,\" he says, arching an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods, kissing Louis lightly before sliding off and standing up. \"Take off your trousers,\" he says, fussing with his own flies. Louis watches for a moment, watches the unbearably tight jeans Harry wears slide down his long legs. He isn't wearing pants, and he's hard already, red and curving up to his flat stomach. The dim light puts everything in stark relief \u2013 the gaps between Harry's ribs and the lines of muscle in his stomach, the shadows of his collarbones. Louis watches Harry and Harry notices. <br \/><br \/>He smiles slightly \u2013 Harry's always smiling. He kneels down onto the ground once his chelsea boots and trousers are off, spreading his big hands across Louis's hips. \"You're still dressed,\" he whispers, husky. <br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him, mouth dry. He nods. Harry shakes his head, still grinning, and bends his neck to kiss at Louis's stomach, a line from his belly button to the band of elastic peeking up over the waist of his trousers. \"I guess I'll have to take care of that,\" Harry says. His long fingers work over the flies, hooking them in the beltloops and tugging them down till they're bunched around his knees. He presses more kisses to Louis's thighs, along the line where Louis's pants end, dipping down into the soft skin of his inner thighs, biting gently. Louis squeezes his eyes shut, resisting the urge to palm himself. Harry's <i>so close<\/i> to where Louis needs him.<br \/><br \/>\"Tease,\" he chokes out. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks up with shining eyes and laughs. He carefully removes Louis's shoes, sliding his trousers off his feet and then slides his fingers under the waistband of his pants, pulling them down. Louis leans back on his elbows, lifting his hips slightly so Harry can slide them down and off his arse. Once he's completely naked, he scoots back on the bed, so he can lean against the pillows and Harry follows him, crawling up the bed. Louis spreads his thighs and Harry's expression softens. He kisses his thigh, moves up to his stomach, then his neck, cheek, and finally mouth. His hand finally closes around Louis's, slowly sliding up and down with a light grip, and Louis's hips buck into the circle of Harry's fingers. <br \/><br \/>Arching his back and letting his head drop fully back into the pillows, Louis closes his eyes and focuses on breathing. Harry's mouth wanders down until he's sucking mark after mark into Louis's neck, hand working him over slowly. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says brokenly. \"Harry, come on.\" His hand gropes blindly until he finds the tube of lube, and he drops it next to Harry with a small bounce. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, okay,\" Harry gasps. \"Fuck.\" He sits up a little, fumbling with lube until his fingers are coated and he spreads his huge hand over Louis's thigh, pulling it up. He studies Louis's face and Louis nods, eyes fluttering as a finger traces his rim and slides in. <br \/><br \/>The prep goes quickly \u2013 Harry's talented, all long, curving fingers: one, two, then three, and Louis is writhing, hands grasping at Harry's strong forearms, the comforter, pillows. His breath is being pushed out in rhythm with the press of Harry's fingers and he desperately tries to hold onto his heartbeat, worried it's going to pound right out of his chest. <br \/><br \/>\"You ready?\" Harry whispers into his lips. Louis nods frantically. Harry sits up again, slick fingers pulling out gently. He tears the condom open with his teeth and rolls it on fluidly, spreading more lube over himself. Louis plants his heels into the bed, knees pulled up. Harry gazes down at him momentarily. \"You're so fucking gorgeous,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath as Harry positions himself, letting it out with a sharp cry as he pushes in. <br \/><br \/>They settle into it smoothly. Harry goes slow, working himself inside, and Louis feels like every single one of his nerve endings are on fire. He holds onto Harry's huge shoulders as Harry starts moving, arms flexing hugely over Louis, holding himself up. Louis stares at the pale stretch of skin of Harry's neck for a moment before leaning up and attaching his mouth to it, hiding his sounds against his skin. Harry's breath is coming quickly, panting against Louis's cheekbone. Louis works one of his hands between them, tugging at his own cock, dropping his head back down, eyes squeezed shut. Harry slumps down, then, onto one elbow and bats Louis's hand away, pulling him with intent now, alternating strokes to his own thrusts. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck,\" Harry lets out finally \u2013 neither of them broke the relative silence of gasps, choked off whimpers, and Dylan's melodies. \"Fuck, I'm close.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis breathes. \"Yeah, c'mon.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's face crumples and he pushes in hard, once, twice, and his eyelids flutter over his pretty eyes and his mouth drops open as his cock pulses into the condom. His fingers fumble around Louis but he regains his control quickly, pumping him harshly until Louis is crying out and spilling into his hand. Harry finally drops down onto Louis, pressing his forehead into the join of Louis's shoulder and neck. He kisses him lightly, there, before rolling off. <br \/><br \/>He stands, tossing the condom into a bin by the bed and tugging a teeshirt from a pile on the floor, crawling back over to Louis and wiping up his belly. Louis looks up at him and Harry smiles back. Louis closes his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, finding his pants and trousers in a pile next to his jumper. He starts pulling them on, back to Harry. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry says, his voice startling in the dark silence of the room. \"You don't have to leave.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis hunches his shoulders, balling his fists, as he kicks the clothes on the floor around, looking for his shoes. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis snaps back and immediately feels guilty, softens his voice. \"I should get home, though. I'll see you, okay?\" He turns to look at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry's sitting on his bed, under the covers, knees up against his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He looks at Louis with those big shiny eyes. \"I don't have your number...?\" he says, as if he's unsure whether or not to ask. <br \/><br \/>Louis feels like that cat being chased by a three-legged dog. \"I'll see you at group therapy on Tuesday, yeah?\" he offers. <br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip, but nods. <br \/><br \/>\"Have a good night, Haz,\" Louis says softly, before letting himself out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis unlocks his door. It's 3:21 in the morning. <br \/><br \/>\"Where have you been?\" Aiden says from the couch. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs, leaning back against the door and letting his head thunk harshly. His high wore off on the walk from Harry's flat to his own. And Aiden's still here. \"Out,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Aiden shuffles over to the doorway to peer at him. \"You got fucked.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes. \"It's really none of your business.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Were you fucked up? Could you even feel it?\" Aiden's voice is nasty, now. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him cooly. \"Get out,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Get out of my flat. You don't live here. I don't care where you go, but I want you gone. Get your stuff when I'm at work on Thursday.\" <br \/><br \/>Aiden's staring at him. \"Matt's still in\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't,\" Louis tries to keep his voice steady, \"give a shit.\" <br \/><br \/>Silence rings through the tiny flat for a moment, until Aiden says, \"Fuck you, Louis.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Yeah, sure.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You're so fucking selfish,\" Aiden's saying as he stuffs his shit into his rucksack. \"You dragged me down with you for a fucking <i>year<\/i> and you didn't even care when I left you. Fuck you. Fuck you and fuck your shitty fucking lifestyle and your shitty little pills that you love more than anyone else. You're like a goddamn cockroach. The world could end and you'd still be here in this post-apocalyptic shithole of a flat, stuck in your miserable, single-minded existence. Fuck you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis presses his palms into his eye sockets. He's too sober. There's no buffer between him and Aiden's words and it's all pouring in. <br \/><br \/><i>Who'd come to your funeral?<\/i><br \/><br \/>\"Get out,\" Louis says again, weakly. <br \/><br \/>\"Fucking <i>gladly<\/i>,\" Aiden spits, wrenching the door open, shoving past Louis, and slamming it behind him. <br \/><br \/>Louis slides down the wall until he can wrap himself into a ball. <br \/><br \/>He wakes up in the morning with his limbs numb and prickling, Aiden's words still pounding through his veins like an overdose. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>On Thursday, Louis has the sticker gun and it's pounding out \u00a36.99. He's pricing a stack of Van Halen CDs. He still wishes he could revoke ear privileges to the general public. <br \/><br \/>Ed says, \"So, Harry.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis punches a sticker out with unnecessary force. \"Sweet kid,\" he says back. <br \/><br \/>\"He asked me for your number.\" Ed's at the computer looking up guitar tabs to a Beyonce song. Louis doesn't understand him. <br \/><br \/>\"Did you give it to him?\" <br \/><br \/>Ed looks over at him. \"Nah, you know. But I told him your hours.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes.<br \/><br \/>\"He said he might stop by today.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Great,\" Louis mutters. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Ed says. \"He's wonderful. Don't fuck over my friends, Lou.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grunts noncommittally and Ed shakes his head, turning back to the computer. They're quiet for an hour and twenty three minutes. Louis watches the clock and tells his hands not to shake. <br \/><br \/>The bells on the door jangle together and Louis looks up, jumpy. Harry's standing there, wrapped in his coat and a scarf. He three coffees in his huge hand. He looks nervous. <br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a half-smile. \"Hi,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" Harry says, hesitant. <br \/><br \/>Ed jumps up. \"Haz!\" he yells. Harry sets the coffee down quickly before Ed has in him a headlock, scrubbing his hand through his hair. <br \/><br \/>When he's done, Ed grabs all three of the coffees, licking the lids quickly. \"Oh, shit,\" he says. \"These are all mine now. Looks like you two will have to go and get your own.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis glares at Ed. \"I have two hours left.\" <br \/><br \/>Batting his eyelashes innocently, he just stares at Louis. \"But you need to go get coffee with Harry.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment and looks up at Harry, who's staring at his feet. \"Right,\" Louis says. \"Okay.\" <br \/><br \/>Balling his fists into the sleeves of his jumper, he rounds the counter opens the door, arching an expectant eyebrow at Harry. Harry smiles quickly, following him out the door. <br \/><br \/>Louis hunches his shoulders and Harry walks next to him, their arms brushing together. \"So,\" Harry starts, tentatively. \"I wanted to call. Or text. Or whatever.\" <br \/><br \/>\"But you didn't have my number.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Harry says. \"And I didn't know if you, like, wanted me to?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Yeah.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Did you?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis leads them into the bakery, two doors down from the record shop. He slides into a booth in the corner, under the heater. Harry sits across from him. The question hangs in the air. <br \/><br \/>\"It's complicated,\" Louis says finally. <br \/><br \/>Harry raises an eyebrow. \"Why? Have you got a cagefighter boyfriend?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No.\" Louis plays with the threads of his jumper and stands, walking to the counter and orders a coffee. \"Want anything?\" he says back to Harry, still at the table. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"Just a drip.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis comes back, holding the drinks carefully. They're too full. <br \/><br \/>\"Why do your hands shake?\" Harry asks.<br \/><br \/>\"You ask a lot of questions,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>The lights are soft, warm, and they make Harry's hair shine in waves. His eyes are bright and his cheeks red from the cold. He doesn't smell like whiskey. <br \/><br \/>\"It's psychosomatic,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks up again. \"Asking a lot of questions is psychosomatic?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"No. My hands. It's psychosomatic.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry rests his head on his hand and gazes at Louis thoughtfully. \"What do you mean?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I mean, I can't control it but I can. Or something. I don't know. My therapist said that when I was fourteen.\" Louis starts tearing up a napkin, making confetti. <br \/><br \/>\"Huh,\" Harry says. \"I thought it was the pills.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Louis tears open a packet of sugar and pours it on his pile of confetti. \"Everyone does.\" <br \/><br \/>\"What came first, the shaking or the pills?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"So many questions.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry wraps his big hands around his coffee cup. \"Well, ask some of your own?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Fine.\" Louis grins a little. \"Why whiskey? <i>Grandpa<\/i>.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"S'what my dad would drink. I like the taste. I like what it does.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"And why are you in group therapy?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ah.\" Harry shrugs. \"Zayn's sisters begged him to go and I said I'd go with him. It's comforting, I don't know. Sad, hearing everyone want so badly to get better. It's kind of a social experiment. Or something.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis thinks of the middle aged housewives addicted to dexies or vodka. He thinks of beige-Peter and his sad eyes. He thinks of Cher, addicted to coke. His hands are shaking. \"I think I want to get better,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry blinks a bit. He opens his mouth and closes it again, looking wary, as if Louis were a frightened animal. \"That's... good, Lou. That's good.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rubs a hand over his mouth and looks away. \"I didn't feel anything for a long time,\" he says. \"I think I want to now.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods slowly. \"Why?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Looking sharply at Harry, Louis says, \"What do you mean, <i>why<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Shrugging, Harry just looks back levelly. \"You need a reason, if you mean it.\" <br \/><br \/>\"General wellbeing isn't a reason?\" <br \/><br \/>\"You're telling me you've never thought of your general wellbeing before?\" Harry raises an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and traces his fingers through the mix of sugar and torn napkin on the table. \"I had this boyfriend for awhile. He was cheating on me and I didn't care. We broke up but still lived together. I kicked him out the other night. He said a lot of things.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Like what?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Stuff.\" Louis rolls his eyes. \"I don't know. I'd like someone to come to my funeral.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Fair enough.\" <br \/><br \/>They're quiet for a minute, until Harry speaks again. \"Can I have your number?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him. He bites his lip and tilts his head to the side, thinking. \"Do you want to get better, too?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"I don't have a reason.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods and stands up, dusting his hands on his trousers. \"Then no. I'll see you at therapy, Harry.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis spends the next few days scrubbing out his flat. Aiden's cleared out his stuff and Louis tosses anything that reminds him of whatever the past year has been. He buys dish soap and he buys cleaning fluid and rubber gloves and bin bags and sponges and he <i>cleans<\/i> and tries not to think of it as <i>purifying<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>When he's done, and the flat that smelt of stale vomit and old tobacco smells of mostly lemon and chemicals, Louis sits at the kitchen table and lines up all of the pills he has in his possession. The prescription bottles of painkillers on on the far left and then it varies by size and colour. He organises them into a rainbow and stares for a moment. <br \/><br \/>It's been three years of this, maybe. Around there. There's no set anniversary, really. He's been taking pills since sixth form, but he's not felt like a fucking <i>junkie<\/i> since three years ago. He closes his eyes, pressing the palms of his hands into the sockets. The pills are staring at him. His skin itches and his hands are shaking. <br \/><br \/>It wasn't a <i>thing<\/i> until it was. It was fun, exciting, to go out to clubs and roll. It was fun to drink a bottle of champagne with Aiden and his friends, swallowing a perc to make everything hazy and loose. It was <i>fun<\/i>, until it wasn't. It was fun until being alone with himself made Louis want to scratch his eyes out. Until his brain wouldn't stop turning. Until everything felt too sharp, too real. It was fun until something made seeing the world without a chemical filter made Louis curl into himself. It was fun until Louis had to remind himself to keep breathing when someone brushed against him on the street. <br \/><br \/>Blinking down at the display in front of him, Louis sweeps the pills into the palm of his shaking hand, cupping both of them together around the collection. He swallows, mouth flooding with saliva as if expectant. Walking slowly towards the bathroom, Louis closes his eyes and opens his hands over the toilet, flushing before he does anything stupid. <br \/><br \/>He clutches the porcelain sink tightly, knuckles whitening, and stares at himself in the mirror. His lips are bitten red and there's high colour on his cheeks and his eyes are blue and sharp. He looks alert. <br \/><br \/>He walks back into the kitchen. The only thing left on the table is one bottle of painkillers. He takes it, weighs it in his hand, fingers curving around the smooth plastic. Opening the freezer, he shoves his hand in the very back, dropping the pills behind an old box of microwave burritos. <br \/><br \/>He needs a safety net, just in case. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The first two days are the worst. His hands are shaking and he thinks the world is shaking. He buys four packs of cigarettes and shakes himself through them. He can't sleep. The lights are too bright and the world is too loud. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The third day he wraps himself in a jumper and a scarf and closes his eyes as he enters the tube station. Too bright, fluorescent. The church basement smells like mold and Louis's eyes water. He feels like hell. He looks like hell. His hands are shaking. <br \/><br \/>Harry and Zayn are sitting in the circle when Louis arrives. Harry tries to catch his eye and Louis looks at his feet. The metal folding chair is unforgivingly hard. He curls his legs up to his chest and rests his forehead on his arms. <br \/><br \/>Beige-Peter starts the meeting with a prayer and Louis stares at his feet, curling his toes back and forth, making sure they're still there. The circle greetings start. <br \/><br \/>When it's Louis's turn, he blinks twice, hard, and Peter stares at him with his big sad eyes. Louis swallows. \"I'm Louis. I'm addicted to pills.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Welcome back, Louis,\" Peter murmurs. Louis stares at his feet. <br \/><br \/>The circle keeps going. Louis doesn't look up when it gets to Harry, but he listens hard, listens for <i>something<\/i> to hold onto. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm Harry,\" comes the low, warm, slow voice. \"I'm an alcoholic.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Welcome back, Harry,\" Peter says. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Today's topic is strategies for recovery,\" Peter's saying. \"Let's start by talking about why we want to heal.\" <br \/><br \/>The circle starts again. Louis feels every muscle in his body locking with every mention of an absent husband or hateful son or rebellious daughter. <br \/><br \/>And then Harry speaks. <br \/><br \/>\"Are there any invalid reasons for wanting to get better?\"<br \/><br \/>Peter blinks, and everyone's eyes turn to Harry. Peter says, \"Can you expand on that thought, Harry?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs, and his voice is small. \"I always thought there needed to be a <i>moment<\/i>, you know? A sort of, like, revelation thing? And then it would be easy to give up all this bullshit, to <i>heal<\/i> or whatever.\" <br \/><br \/>Peter hums encouragingly, understandingly. <br \/><br \/>Louis stares at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry's fingers are tight, twisted around each other. His knuckles are white. \"I think, like. I thought that, like. If I could get my dad to talk to me. Or to come back. If I could get some closure there, then. Then it would be easier? But, like. I'm nineteen, you know? It's been ten years. And I feel like. I feel like I can't keep waiting. Relying on someone else to fix things, you know? To spark that change?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yes, Harry,\" Peter coos impotently. \"The change lies within you.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis wants to punch beige-Peter, wants to hold Harry's hand, wants him to keep talking. <br \/><br \/>\"So, like. I've been thinking, I guess, that it's dumb to try to, like, <i>be<\/i> my father, as if that would do anything? As if I could get the closure through that? I never saw it as a problem, really. But I guess I've met someone recently who might be a lot stronger than I thought I could ever be. And that's like. I don't know. It's not helping me grow up to just. Be stuck on something I could never control?\" Harry's looking around at the circle now, at all the middle aged mothers nodding sympathetically, dabbing at their own tears, probably thinking of their lost husbands, their own fathers. <br \/><br \/>Louis's fingernails are biting into his shaking palms. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him, finally. \"And I think that, like, ordering my dad's favourite drink every night is pretty fucking childish of me.\" <br \/><br \/>Beige-Peter looks like he wants to kiss Harry on the mouth. \"Harry, realising this is probably the strongest thing you could do in your life. It won't be easy, but realisation is the first step...\" he drones on, and Louis tunes him out. <br \/><br \/>The rest of the hour passes so fucking slowly. Louis's skin is too tight around his body and Harry's eyes are burning into his chest and Louis can't breathe through the black mold. <br \/><br \/>Someone bumps his chair accidentally and Louis nearly has a coronary. <br \/><br \/>Finally the clock ticks to 8:30 and Louis jumps up, rubs a hand over his face and leaves the room, taking the stairs two at a time until he slams out of the doors, curling up on the front stairs of the church. <br \/><br \/>Two minutes later, a pair of long legs stretch out next to him. <br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't look up. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" Harry says. \"I'm Harry. I'm a recovering alcoholic. Three days sober. I was wondering if I could have your number?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis peeks over at him with the corner of his eye. \"I'm Louis. I'm addicted to pills but I'm getting better. I'll give you my number if you get coffee with me.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles, just like always. He has hollows under his eyes and his skin is pale, but his eyes are sharp. <br \/><br \/>\"I'd like that.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis gets two drip coffees, and they're full. He stares at them on the counter and glances back at Harry, slumped in his chair, hands in his hair, eyes closed. He looks worn out, <i>strung<\/i> out. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath and stretches his hands around the mugs, carrying them carefully. <br \/><br \/>Looking up as Louis approaches, Harry's eyes follow his movements as he sets the coffee down. <br \/><br \/>Reaching out and grasping Louis's hand before he can pull it back, Harry smiles. <br \/><br \/>Louis's hand is steady.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:14143","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/14143.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=14143"}}],"title":"bring your love, it's on your tongue (h\/l, l\/z)","published":"2012-12-01T21:21:55Z","updated":"2012-12-01T21:28:08Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: bring your love, it's on your tongue<br \/><b>pairing(s)<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson, side liam payne\/zayn malik<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~12,000<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. louis ran away to spain after a breakup and now he's back to a snowy london winter and this kid allegedly called harry styles. <br \/><b>notes<\/b>: everyone's switching to ao3 and i know i should too but i have a weird loyalty to lj and ugh idk i suck i'm sorry. okay so anyway! this was meant to be some sort of cute cuddly winter fic, and i guess in a sense it is, but then my need for actual plot took over and this happened. this is for <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"tracedust\" lj:user=\"tracedust\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/tracedust.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/tracedust.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>tracedust<\/b><\/a><\/span>, who demanded i write this (\"lovingly\"), and <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"influira\" lj:user=\"influira\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/influira.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/influira.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>influira<\/b><\/a><\/span> and <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"wandersfound\" lj:user=\"wandersfound\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/wandersfound.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/wandersfound.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>wandersfound<\/b><\/a><\/span> because \"after all this time?\" \"always\", and mady and sadie and daniella for pumpin me up, and <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"teapirate\" lj:user=\"teapirate\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/teapirate.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/teapirate.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>teapirate<\/b><\/a><\/span> because it's her birthday!! massive and huge thanks and love to <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"checkthemargins\" lj:user=\"checkthemargins\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/checkthemargins.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/checkthemargins.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>checkthemargins<\/b><\/a><\/span> for encouragement and playing therapist and not letting me take the easy way out. <br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/>Louis curls tight into his coat as he hurriedly walks down the snowy sidewalk, trying as hard as he can not to slip. He slipped earlier, when he was leaving his flat, and it was quite humiliating. Like, at least ten people saw. Three laughed. Two did that horrified <i>alright, mate?<\/i> courtesy yell. All Louis could really do is stand up, laugh a little at himself, and brush the snow off his arse. <br \/><br \/>But, really. No repeats necessary, thanks. <br \/><br \/>He's coming up on the cafe now, just one more block. He can make it. He's been promised a free coffee, and he hopes to fuck Zayn's got some whisky hidden away to make it Irish. Or maybe Niall will be in. Niall's always got whisky secreted about his person. Louis balls his icy fingers in his coat pockets and noses deeper into his scarf. The snow's coming down quite quickly now, making his view white and hazy. The streets are quiet and blanketed and the trees are reflecting the light off the streetlamps. <br \/><br \/>It's all very romantic. Louis is incredibly cold. <br \/><br \/>Finally, finally, he reaches the door. <br \/><br \/>\"Bloody fucking shit motherfucker bastard wank shit fuck!\" he exclaims as he slams inside. \"It's fucking freezing out there.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn glances up \u2013 well, fair play, <i>everyone<\/i> glances up \u2013 at him as the door slams behind him. <br \/><br \/>\"And if it isn't the ever-polite, soft-spoken Louis fucking Tomlinson,\" Zayn says, wiping his hands on his apron. His smile is stretched all the way across his face, eyes crinkling so his lashes brush together. He comes over to Louis, struggling to hang his coat on the rack, and throws his arms around him. \"Shit, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins back, tucking himself close into Zayn's warm body. \"Hi,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" Zayn says back, smiling down at him, softer now, private. \"Missed you.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Missed you back,\" Louis says, rubbing his icicle nose under Zayn's jaw. He pulls away slightly, surveying the inside of the shop, with its soft lighting and Zayn's paintings along the walls and the mismatched armchairs and dark wood coffee tables. \"Looks lovely in here, Zayner, really.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn stands back, watching him, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. He shrugs, glances away, bashful. \"Thanks. Hey, let me introduce you around.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods excitedly and loops his arm through Zayn's elbow, walking them up towards the counter. There's a tall pretty boy with big pretty brown eyes and a big pretty mouth and big pretty shoulders standing behind in, watching them curiously. He offers Louis a small pretty smile. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi!\" Louis exclaims. \"I'm Louis Tomlinson. I'm your boss's best mate, so I'll require free muffins and love.\" <br \/><br \/>The boy blinks a bit, but his smile stays put. He holds out a big pretty hand to Louis. \"Hi. I'm Liam.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"Lou, if I could afford free muffins for <i>myself<\/i> even...\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pretends to pout for a moment, before smiling back at Liam. \"Fine. But I'll still require that free love.\" <br \/><br \/>Still standing, smiling, and looking confused, Liam delicately extracts his hand from Louis's grip, glancing to Zayn deferentially. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, mate, you are quite needy that way,\" Zayn says, tugging him in closer to whisper in his ear, \"But not Liam, yeah? We're kind of...\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls back, eyes widening a bit in understanding. \"Zayn Malik. <i>Zayn Malik<\/i>. I leave for six months and you've gone and fallen in love with someone <i>else<\/i>? How <i>could<\/i> you?\" he all but shrieks, voice rising hysterically. <br \/><br \/>Liam's mouth falls open and he steps back from the counter, looking horrified. \"I don't\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ignore him, Liam,\" Zayn says sharply, teeth clenched. \"He thinks he's funny.\" <br \/><br \/>Grinning beatifically, Louis turns back to Liam. \"I kid, I kid. You're a lucky boy. How long did it take him to ask you out? Were there months of stuttering and dropping plates and avoiding eye contact and walking away in the middle of sentences? Because, I tell you what, mate, Zayn here isn't the most\u2013\" a hand wraps around his mouth, effectively cutting him off. <br \/><br \/>\"You've been back not five minutes and you're already making me want to strangle you, Lou. Were you going for some kind of record?\" Zayn pinches his side and it's decidedly <i>not<\/i> a love-pinch. <br \/><br \/>\"Oi!\" Louis cries, squirming away. \"Be nice to me! I've only been back five minutes and you're already hurting me!\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm sorry about him,\" Zayn says to Liam, rolling his eyes. Liam laughs nervously. <br \/><br \/>\"You're not...?\" he trails off, glancing back at Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes pity on him. \"No, mate, no, no. Strictly best friends, like. But I'll warn you, I am the <i>worst<\/i> third wheel. So, um. I hope you don't think I'm too annoying already.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs a little, smiling at Louis. \"Yeah,\" he says, shaking his head ruefully. \"But he'll grow on you. Like a little parasite.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis sticks out his tongue. Liam laughs. <br \/><br \/>\"So, anyway,\" Zayn says, sliding back around the counter. \"Where's Harry?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Liam says, \"I think he took a break?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Another?\" Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Don't I pay him to, like, work?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam shrugs. \"It's the face, no one can resist.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glances up from where he was studying the list of tea. \"Wait, what? Who? Irresistible faces? I'm intrigued.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, no,\" Zayn says to Liam, ignoring Louis. \"I forgot. This is going to be insufferable.\" <br \/><br \/>\"What?!\" Louis demands. <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Liam asks. <br \/><br \/>Zayn's still speaking exclusively to Liam. \"Louis. When Louis meets Harry. This is... well,  you'll see.\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>What<\/i>?\" Louis says, leaning over the counter to peer into Zayn's eyes. \"Am I going to like him? Am I going to <i>love<\/i> him? Is he perfect?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shit,\" Zayn mutters.<br \/><br \/>Liam just laughs. \"Can I get you anything, Louis?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, yeah, a cuppa Yorkshire, please, mate, thanks,\" he says, distracted. <br \/><br \/>Liam nods and and digs around for a teabag. \"Where have you been? Zayn says you've been <i>gallivanting<\/i>, but I'm not quite solid on what that means.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"I took the semester off and went to Spain! Andalucia and Valencia, mainly. I ventured up north a bit. And Madrid, of course.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Wow,\" Liam says, eyes widening. \"That sounds amazing.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"It really was. But now I'm back and broke and cold and lonely! Speaking of free love, mate, seriously \u2013 check out Spain.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam chuckles. \"I'm not really a free love kind of guy, I guess you could say.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Nah.\" Louis smiles down at the counter. \"Really gotta work for it with Zayner, don't you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey now,\" Zayn says. \"What's that mean, then?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam slides a steaming mug over to Louis and Louis wraps his hands around it, finally sinking down into one of the barstools. \"It took me months until you even deigned to acknowledge my presence, love. And I sat with you <i>every day<\/i> in maths.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smirks. \"You were annoying as fuck.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I wanted to be your friend!\" <br \/><br \/>\"You wanted to copy my homework.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pauses, concedes. \"Well, okay, but I <i>also<\/i> wanted to be your friend!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Zayn says to Liam. \"His way of trying to be my friend was turning my backpack inside out, tugging on my earlobes when he had a question, and doodling rude cartoons on my notes.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I am <i>charming<\/i>,\" Louis sighs, smiling wistfully.<br \/><br \/>\"Parasite,\" Zayn says, raising his eyebrows to Liam. Liam chuckles. <br \/><br \/>A slam echos through the room, coming from the back of the shop. Louis glances up and Zayn takes a deep breath, speaking quickly in low tones to Louis. \"Okay, Lou, so you're about to meet Harry. He's a kid, alright? He's 18 and he's sweet as hell and very earnest and lovely and I need you to not smash him into tiny pieces, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flinches. \"Excuse me?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fuck,\" Zayn whispers. \"You'll see, okay? Just... lay off, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>And then this <i>boy<\/i> enters the room \u2013 Harry, presumably \u2013 and he's shaking snow out of his hair and his cheeks are flushed from the cold and his long body knocks into the counter as he turns to grab his apron and Louis bites his lip because, yeah. <i>Fuck<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>\"Zayn!\" Harry says brightly. \"I just took a quick fifteen, hope that's okay.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn grins, wry. \"Not much I can do now, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, batting his eyelashes. Snow's still clinging to them, Louis notes. \"Well, don't fire me, please, boss. How could I get the ladies with no job?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam snorts. \"Ah, yes, it's hard enough for you as it is.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes widen innocently. \"Whatever are you insinuating, Mr. Payne?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Sure, yeah. Alright, Haz, this is my best mate, Louis. He's just come off a six month sex extravaganza on the Continent and shown up like a lost kitten in my shop. Louis, this is Harry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis slides off the stool and holds his tea-warmed hand out to Harry. Harry looks over at him and lights up, smiling with big red lips and warm eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" Harry says, shaking Louis's hand and dragging his curly fringe across his forehead, out of his eyes. \"Harry Styles.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks, laughs. \"Harry <i>Styles<\/i>? Nope. Not falling for that one. Do you get a lot of facebook stalkers or something?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry throws his head back, mouth opening wide into a deep laugh. \"No, mate, no. I swear to you. Harry Styles.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis arches an eyebrow, smiling at him. \"Zayner, I'm gonna need to see your employee records. I think this boy is lying to me, and I won't stand for it.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's still giggling, grinning widely at Louis. \"And you're Louis...?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Tomlinson,\" Louis supplies. \"And <i>that<\/i> is a real last name, my friend.\"<br \/><br \/>\"How can I get you to believe me?\" Harry asks, tying his apron around his slim hips with long, pale fingers. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs, trying to pretend like he's not staring obscenely. \"It would take quite a lot for me to believe some northern boy has got a name like that.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oi!\" Harry says. \"Low blow, there. Watch it.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"I'm from Yorkshire, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah, I see.\" Harry studies him, smiling. \"Hey, have you got your mobile on you?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ooh, quite forward of you, Styles,\" Louis says, digging in his pocket. \"I like it.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and takes it from him, fingers tapping expertly. \"There,\" he says. \"You've requested me on facebook.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"But now I look like the forward one, don't I? Not sure if I fancy that, to be honest.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry leans over the counter to whisper conspiratorially, \"I won't tell a soul.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis winks and tips his mug in a salute. \"I'd just die from the shame.\" <br \/><br \/>\"So, tell me about this six month sex trip, then,\" Harry says, settling in and leaning on his elbows. <br \/><br \/>Zayn clears his throat. \"Haven't you got work to do, Haz?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry looks back at him and then glances around the empty shop. \"I... er? I feel like the answer's meant to be yes, but...\" <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Zayn's just trying to stop me from seducing you with my wiles. Is that the word you used, Zayner? Wiles?\" <br \/><br \/>\"It absolutely is not,\" Zayn spits, as Liam and Harry laugh. <br \/><br \/>Smirking, Louis slides a pound across the counter and hops off his stool. \"I should get going, I want to phone my mum and all, but drinks later? All of us?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Excellent.\" Harry beams. <br \/><br \/>Liam nods and gives him a bright smile. Zayn scowls but it quickly softens into fondness, and he rounds the coffee bar and pulls Louis in for another hug. \"Glad you're home, mate. Missed you.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Louis says quietly. \"I missed you too. And I'll be good, I promise. He's lovely, though. Liam, too. I'm so glad things are going well for you.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs a bit, ruffling Louis's hair. \"Harry's great, Lou, and I won't, like, stop you, you know? Just. I know you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and tries not to look hurt. \"Sure,\" he says lightly. \"Right.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Lou, wait\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's fine,\" Louis says, smiling. \"I know what you meant.\" He straightens up and walks over to grab his coat from the hook. \"Linda's at nine, then, lads?\" He waits for three nods before waving and stepping out into the frigid London winter.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't manage to leave his flat until 8:45, because he's pretty sure the bloody heater is broken. He's pretty sure he's not meant to see his breath when it's been turned on high for three hours. He's pretty sure he might have hypothermia. But he makes it out, and he even braves his near-freezing bedroom to change into what he considers <i>evening clothes<\/i>. He wishes someone was there to laugh at him, honestly \u2013 tired of hearing his own footsteps echoing through the empty rooms. <br \/><br \/>But there's not, and that's his own damn fault, because he drove Greg off seven months ago, and that's that. <br \/><br \/>So he changes into some black jeans and a black sweater and pulls on some boots. Studying himself in the mirror, he tries to weigh the pros and cons of fringe versus quiff, turning his head to the bed, opening his mouth to ask for an opinion, only to shut it again. Rubbing a hand over his face, he grabs his product and quiffs his fringe lazily, then he slips into his coat and dashes out the door. <br \/><br \/>He's only ten minutes late. As he walks in the door, Zayn and Liam are curled up at the center of the rounded booth, framed by Niall and Harry. They wave him over, yelling greetings. Louis grins and flings his coat up on the hook by the door, sauntering towards the table. <br \/><br \/>\"Glad to see you didn't feel the need to wait for me,\" he says, arching his eyebrow at the round of pints spread out. <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs. \"Got you one, mate,\" he says, holding out the darkest beer Louis has ever seen. He pulls a face and slides into the booth next to Niall. <br \/><br \/>\"It's like you don't know me at all,\" he mutters, grinning. Niall laughs again, tugging Louis into his body for a one-armed hug. <br \/><br \/>\"So glad you're back! Need someone else single around. Been getting boring and frankly disgusting.\" Niall nods his head to where Zayn is whispering in Liam's ear, but really just brushing his lips against his face. Louis sighs, takes a long pull of the pint in front of him.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, fuck <i>off<\/i>,\" he exclaims, making a face at the glass. \"This is rank. I need a Corona.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs from across the table where he's nursing something fruity-looking. Vodka-cran, maybe, Louis thinks. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi, mate,\" he says to Harry, smiling over. <br \/><br \/>Harry grins back. \"How was the rest of your day?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Well, I live in an ice box that I am paying an obscene amount for, so that is a tad disappointing. Oh, and I'm in bloody England, instead of at a club in Spain getting fawned over, so, you know. It is what it is.\" Louis winks. <br \/><br \/>Harry chuckles and takes a sip of his cocktail <i>through the straws<\/i> \u2013 honestly, is this boy real? \u2013 and says, \"I feel your pain, mate. Well, no, I don't. But I sympathise.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Thank you,\" Louis says. \"That means a lot. I'm going to go get a different, better drink. While I'm away, please break that,\" he gestures to Liam and Zayn, who have abandoned all pretense and are now just making out, \"up and remind them we are in public and I am bitter.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall snorts. \"You've been gone too long, mate. There's no stopping them. I've tried.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Brilliant,\" Louis mutters. <br \/><br \/>When he gets back, Niall's moved on to finishing Louis's beer and a woman is curled into Harry, playing with his fingers, and glancing up at him coyly as he speaks to her in low tones, eyes dark.<br \/><br \/>Louis's fingers tighten around his glass and he blinks down at the ground for a moment before sliding back in beside Niall. <br \/><br \/>Harry and the woman look up. \"Louis, this is my friend Caroline! Caroline, this is Zayn and Niall's friend Louis! He's just back from Spain, the lucky bastard.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles politely, nodding at her. <br \/><br \/>\"Spain!\" she exclaims. \"Why did you ever come back?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ah, love, I've been asking myself that all day,\" he says. \"Alas, the funds ran out.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a bit, then turns back to Caroline, asking, \"Are Nick and Pix and the rest coming?\" <br \/><br \/>She nods and pulls out her phone, glancing at it. \"Yeah, actually, they should be here any minute.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis glances at Niall, who's sprawled easily into the leather of the booth, sipping at his beer idly. Liam and Zayn have disappeared. <br \/><br \/>\"Where's Zayn?\" Louis asks. \"Liam doesn't seem like a bar-loo shagger, really.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall smirks. \"This is what they do now. They show up for a semi-polite period of time and then go back to Zayn's.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks. \"They <i>left<\/i>? But I've just got here! Zayn didn't even bloody say hello!\"<br \/><br \/>Niall shrugs. \"He said to tell you goodbye and that he'll call you tomorrow.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry watches their exchange. \"Some of our friends will be here in a minute, if you're lonely!\" he says, grinning at Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances away and takes a long sip of his gin and tonic. Niall nudges him under the table. \"Alright?\" he mutters.<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I should maybe go. I don't know.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall sits up. \"Come out for a fag, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>They slide out of the booth and Louis absently listens to Niall assuring Harry they'll be right back before palming the small of Louis's back and guiding him out into the alley. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks to him expectantly. \"You smoke now?\" <br \/><br \/>Niall shrugs and pulls a pack out of his pocket. \"Socially. Want one?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis takes one and waits for Niall to hand him a lighter before saying, \"So, exactly how much has changed since I've been gone?\"<br \/><br \/>Sighing, Niall tilts his head back to gaze up into the falling snow, eyes clenching shut as flakes his his face. \"A lot. It's... I dunno, mate. It's been weird without you.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Well, you smoke now.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall laughs a little dryly. \"Easy to find people to talk to when you're smoking.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Since when have you had trouble talking to people?\" Louis asks. <br \/><br \/>\"It's like... you've not been here, we don't hang out with Greg anymore \u2013 sorry \u2013\u00a0and I don't see Zayn unless he's attached at the mouth to Liam, and even then he never sticks around long. Aiden's got Matt and all of Matt's music friends. Cher stopped wasting her time with me. I dunno. Everyone's just... spread out.\" Niall takes a long drag of his smoke. \"You kind of held us together, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis leans back against the dirty brick of the building. \"This Harry bloke seems nice, though.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall cuts him a sharp look. \"Yeah, no, he is. He's a laugh.\"<br \/><br \/>\"But...?\" Louis says, raising his eyebrows.<br \/><br \/>Niall shrugs. \"A bit hard to read. Has all of these older friends, you know? Comes out with us and ends up disappearing for half the night. I don't know. Bit of a mystery.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says, flicking the cigarette between his fingers, sending a shower of gold onto the wet ground. \"Zayn warned me off him.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Really?\" Niall laughs a little at that. \"Would have figured he'd want you to go for it. Rebound, and all.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Seemed to imply he's all sweet and innocent and that I'm too awful and slutty for him, actually,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Niall pauses. \"Huh.\" <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I mean, don't get me wrong, Harry's sweet, but innocent? Nah. From what I can tell, anyway, he could give you a run for your money. Pre-Greg, that is.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis's mouth tightens. \"Can we not, actually?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, sorry, mate. Have you heard from him, though?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says shortly. \"I think I'm gonna head home.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall studies him for a moment. \"Want company?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Thanks.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall nods and stubs out his cigarette, stepping back inside to grab their coats and say goodbye to Harry for the both of them. <br \/><br \/>Louis stays outside, shivering in his thin sweater, and stares at the hazy dark grey of the sky, still spitting down snow. It's December fifth. Last year at this time, he and Greg were holed up in his flat, probably decorating a damn Christmas tree while Louis laughed protestations about how <i>stupid<\/i> it was, and Greg convinced him it was <i>fun<\/i>. Mostly, they were probably making out. Or <i>cuddling<\/i>. Or watching Harry Potter marathons. <br \/><br \/>Last year, winter was lovely. Winter was hot chocolate and snowball fights and friends and love and all of that bullshit. <br \/><br \/>Now, Louis is alone and he's not sure what's happened. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>There's the scent of bacon floating through the flat when Louis wakes up. It's freezing \u2013 of course it is \u2013 so Louis digs around until he finds a pair of sweatpants and a huge knit jumper. As he walks out of his bedroom door, he glances in the mirror and hazily recognises the jumper as Greg's, one that Louis used to nap in on the couch, one that Louis begged Greg to let him keep. One that hasn't been touched in seven months. <br \/><br \/>Louis scrubs a hand through his hair and pads to the kitchen where Niall has the radio cranked up and bacon crackling on the stove. <br \/><br \/>\"I love you, Nialler,\" Louis mumbles, hooking his chin over Niall's shoulder and wrapping his hands around his waist. <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs. \"You're mad if you think any of this is for you, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins and gets down two plates and two mugs, flicking the kettle on and hoisting himself on the counter. He kicks out at Niall's hip and Niall catches his foot. <br \/><br \/>\"It's good you're back, Lou. We were all a bit worried, you know?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I'm fine. Nothing a bit of sun and dozens of gorgeous Spanish boys can't cure.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall smiles softly. \"Okay. Well. You know.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Louis says, glancing away. \"What the fuck is on the radio, honestly?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Niall says, laughing. \"'S the Radio1 Breakfast Show, remember that?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"Fuck Moyles.\" <br \/><br \/>\"No, yeah, but it's not Moyles anymore. Some bloke Nick Grimshaw. Good mates with Harry from last night.\" <br \/><br \/>Raising an eyebrow, Louis says, \"Harry the coffeeshop boy is mates with a Radio1 DJ? High roller, that.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Niall turns to look at him, faced scrunched up in thought. \"They might be sleeping together, actually. Can't ever tell with him. That group, actually. Harry's older friends? Think they all just might orgy instead of, like, have individual sex lives.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks. \"Oh. Well. Can't judge, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall snorts. \"Bit like what you got up to in Spain, I imagine.\" He pours out the bacon onto the plates in a puddle of grease, dropping some bread on top to soak it up, apparently. Louis is faintly disgusted, but a lot more hungry. <br \/><br \/>He scoots over on the counter so Niall can hop up next to him and they set their plates down between them, staring out the window over the sink and nudging their ankles together in tandem. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, Ni?\" Louis asks, glancing down at the strip of bacon between his fingers.<br \/><br \/>Niall's chewing loudly. \"Mmm?\" <br \/><br \/>\"D'you think I fucked up?\"<br \/><br \/>\"What? Coming back?\" Niall's talking around a mouthful of bread and bacon. Louis pulls a face. \"Nah, I'm glad you did. Zayn would be too, if he could get his damn head out of his ass. And it'll probably be good for you, y'know. Can't run away forever.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Louis looks down at their feet, hooks his around Niall's and holds them still. \"But, no, like. I meant with Greg. Do you think I fucked up there?\" <br \/><br \/>Niall stares hard at Louis's face in profile. \"This... is usually Zayn's job,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Right.\" Louis laughs bitterly. \"And where the fuck is Zayn?\" <br \/><br \/>\"He'll come round. Liam's great, though. You'll love him. And I'm glad for Zayn. About time he got over\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis cuts him off, not wanting to hear it. \"Yeah. No, I'm happy for him. I'm just selfish, I don't know. Missed him.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Niall says, chewing some more. \"And, like. The Greg thing? I don't know the whole story, like, but from what I do know, it sounds like you made the best decision? If you'd gotten married just because he wanted to, Lou...\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know.\"<br \/><br \/>They're quiet for awhile. <br \/><br \/>\"Zayn's better at this,\" Niall says finally.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles over at him and punches his arm lightly. \"You're not so bad. Looks like we're gonna be hanging out a lot anyway. Too bad you're straight, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Niall chokes. \"Don't even try it on, Tomlinson.\" <br \/><br \/>Laughing, Louis slides off the counter and gathers their plates, dumping them in the sink. \"Wouldn't dare.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Niall leaves around 10am and Louis wanders around his flat, reacquainting himself with it. It turns out that exploring a tiny city flat only takes about a half an hour, no matter how slow he moves, so he showers and dresses and sits in front of the television. <br \/><br \/>Everything is so <i>quiet<\/i>: his flat is empty, the streets are covered in the life-stalling blankets of snow, and there's not even a goddamn siren in the distance. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. He hates being alone for too long now, because it just makes him think about what could have been. He pulls on his coat and his boots and sets out on the silent street. Dragging his feet, the snow builds up on top of them and he kicks it up, trying to juggle it like a football, scowling when it all splatters across his thighs. <br \/><br \/>Ten minutes later, cold and wet, he makes it to the coffee shop. <br \/><br \/>\"Zayn!\" he yells as he shakes off his coat. \"Zayner, I need whisky in my coffee and I need it, like, twenty minutes ago.\"<br \/><br \/>Someone laughs from the coffee bar and it is decidedly not Zayn's laugh. \"He's not here today. Actually, no one's here today. Well, I am, obviously. But that's it.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis turns around after beating all the snow off his body to meet Harry's eyes. \"Oh,\" he says. \"Well. You'll do. Have you got whisky?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry winks. \"Only if you hang out with me for awhile. It's dead empty and no one's been in all day. I've been baking pastries, otherwise I'd close early.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Pity, that,\" Louis says. \"But can I have one? I've just trekked through the wild Russian tundra for you, love, it's really the least you could do.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ah, but I'm pretty sure you trekked for Zayn. I'm just what you're stuck with.\" Harry taps his nose pointedly.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles a little and curls into one of the overstuffed armchairs by the window. \"Bring the coffee, whiskey, cream, and two glasses, babe. Let's have ourselves a snowday.\" He waves Harry over, indicating the other chair beside him. <br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip, hiding his grin. \"Yeah, alright.\" <br \/><br \/>As Harry walks over with his hands full, Louis gives him a lazy smile, tilting his head back. \"You're quite pretty,\" he says. \"Zayn warned me off you, you know.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry snorts. \"You did mention something like that. Don't quite get it.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ah, well. You see, I had a bit of a <i>reputation<\/i>, I suppose. But I settled down.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry raises his eyebrows. \"Before or after your sex trip?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis huffs a little laugh, lips quirked. \"Right. Well, that was deserved. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me everything.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Everything, hm?\" Harry grins rather wickedly. <br \/><br \/>Louis wrinkles his nose and takes a sip of the coffee Harry hands to him. \"Well, leave some things to my imagination, you know. A boy likes to be surprised.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, delighted. \"Right, well, I'm from Cheshire. Moved down here when my mum married a rich bloke, so I could go to uni and all. In a band, sort of. I dunno. I'm rather boring, honestly.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, I doubt that. I hear you're sleeping with an R1 DJ.\" Louis tilts his head, amused, giving Harry an out if he wants it. <br \/><br \/>Harry just barks a loud laugh and promptly covers his mouth. \"Where on earth did you hear that one?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I have my sources,\" he says, waggling his eyebrows mysteriously. <br \/><br \/>\"Right.\" Harry peers over, curious. \"<i>Well<\/i>, anyway, yeah, Nick's a good mate. He's fun. You should meet him. I'd bet you'd get on, you have similar senses of humour.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis kicks off his boots and pulls his feet under him. \"Better him than Moyles, I suppose.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry laughs. \"I'm not friends with Moyles.\" <br \/><br \/>\"We should all put that on our CVs, I think,\" Louis muses. \"21 years old, uni degree in progress, not friends with Chis Moyles. Surefire hire, I'd say.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry hums, nods. \"What's your degree in?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"English,\" he says. \"Of course.\" <br \/><br \/>\"'Of course,'\" Harry echoes. \"What do you mean?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I mean what would you expect from some flaky mess of a boy who takes off for Spain randomly, yeah?\" Louis stares out at the falling snow. \"It's a mess of a degree for a mess of a person.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You don't seem like a mess to me,\" Harry says, quiet.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles tiredly. \"You don't know me, Harry.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry just wrinkles up his nose in a kind of adorable way and pours another shot of whisky into Louis's coffee. \"Let's not get all morose now, love. It's snowing!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis grumbles. \"It's bloody freezing and wet and miserable.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him for a long moment, considering. \"Come on,\" he says, getting to his feet. His back cracks loudly. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks up at him. \"Er, thanks, mate, but I'm actually comfortable and warm, and I really doubt whatever you have planned is better than that, so.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"Come <i>on<\/i>.\" He holds out his hand to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Sighing, all long-suffering misery, Louis grabs it and lets Harry pull him up. Hands joined, Harry kicks Louis's boots toward him, then drags him over to the coat rack, pulling on his own boots and jacket. \"Get warm,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis watches him warily. \"I want it on the record that I am doing this under extreme duress.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Noted. Put your damn coat on, Tomlinson. We're going to have a proper snowball fight.\" Harry winks and wraps a scarf around Louis's neck. \"Now, get warm.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fine,\" Louis huffs, biting his cheek, knowing he's not hiding a smile, like, at all. He pulls on his jacket and gloves and yanks the door open, racing outside. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay, so. The rules are\u2013\" Harry starts, and then finds it quite difficult to talk around a faceful of snow. \"You little <i>shit<\/i>,\" he yells. <br \/><br \/>Louis dashes away, diving behind a car, cackling madly. \"No rules in <i>street ball<\/i>, motherfucker!\" he screams in his most obnoxious American accent. <br \/><br \/>Harry just laughs and starts pelting snowballs in Louis's direction while Louis bobs up and down, teasing and hurling more back. After fifteen minutes of the most competitive snowball fight Louis has ever been involved in, he crawls out from behind a lorry \u2013 his home base \u2013 and flops in the middle of the street on his back. <br \/><br \/>\"I surrender, Styles. Your stamina is too much for me,\" he calls. <br \/><br \/>There's silence for a moment, and then a rustling noise as Harry drops from a tree on the other side of the road. <br \/><br \/>\"Free shot?\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"Fine. One.\" He sits up, resting back on the palms of his hands behind him, legs splayed out. <br \/><br \/>Harry grins wickedly and takes his time, winding up like a pitcher and spitting at the ground. Louis rolls his eyes, and lets out an <i>oof<\/i> along with most of his oxygen as a packed ball of snow hits him right in the ribcage. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Cunt<\/i>,\" he groans, collapsing back. \"I've been hit! Medic!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and runs over, dropping heavily on top of him. \"I declare myself victorious! Happy V-E day, bitches!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Louis says. \"You're such a geek.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry bats his eyelashes. \"I'm wonderful and charming and you're besotted.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pushes at Harry's face, trying to ignore how close they are. \"I certainly am not! My keeper has told me off you, remember?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" Harry says, raising an eyebrow. \"But can you resist?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis lets himself smile softly. \"Not a good idea, love.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry repositions himself on top of Louis, one leg between his and one on the outside and leaning heavily on his elbows pressed against Louis's chest. \"What do you mean?\" he asks, thoughtful.<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at the sky. \"I'm a bit fucked up at the mo.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Harry says. \"Who's not, honestly?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little. \"Fair enough, yeah.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry hums quietly to himself, but it's recognisable. Louis quirks an eyebrow, humming along. Harry grins broadly and finally rolls off Louis to lay next to him, staring at the sky, belting out the chorus: \"<i>Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, chuckling. \"You're insane.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Mmm, I'm going to get you to kiss me someday.\" <br \/><br \/>Sighing, Louis sits up and rubs his face with cold, wet hands, squeaking as they touch his skin. \"Fuck. Let's go inside.\" <br \/><br \/>\"And get drunk?\" Harry asks hopefully. <br \/><br \/>\"You're the worst, honestly. I'm going to tell Zayn.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry stands up and holds out his hand. \"You're such a tattletale.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grabs it and pulls himself up, smiling up at him. \"I just don't trust myself around you,\" he says, and turns, straightening his coat and walking back into the coffee shop. He glances into the rippled reflection of the window, grinning privately into his scarf when he sees Harry beaming to himself.<br \/><br \/><center><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/13885.html\" target=\"_blank\">part two<\/a>.<\/center><\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:13885","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/13885.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=13885"}}],"title":"bring your love, it's on your tongue (h\/l, l\/z) (part 2)","published":"2012-12-01T21:20:17Z","updated":"2012-12-01T22:29:32Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/14143.html\" target=\"_blank\">part one<\/a>.<br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/><br \/>The next morning starts quietly, everything still tainted by that snowy haze that muffles real life into a dreamlike state. Louis is curled up in bed, wrapped in his duvet and Greg's jumper, reading some novel he found in the corner of his bookshelf. It's about a shipwreck. Louis doesn't know how it found its way into his shelf, but it's interesting thus far. Really, he's just avoiding responsibilities. He needs to register for classes for next term; he needs to call the uni library and see if he can get his job back; he needs to get groceries. Everything can wait till the snow melts. <br \/><br \/>The buzzer rings just as the first mate dies. Louis jumps, burying his face in his pillow and groaning, before forcing himself out of bed and tiptoeing across the ice sheets disguised as hardwood floors. <br \/><br \/>Zayn's standing behind the door, hands balled in his pockets, looking sheepish. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says, leaning against the doorframe, secretly glad Liam's not with him. He misses <i>Zayn<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" Zayn says, looking at him up through his eyelashes. \"I'm sorry about the other night.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Just wanted to hang out with you, mate. It's fine.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs a bit, glancing down the hall. \"Can I come in?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis steps back holds the door open. \"Can't let the heat out,\" he says wryly. <br \/><br \/>Zayn snorts. \"It's fucking freezing in here.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Louis says. \"The landlord is supposed to come by tomorrow. Fuck. Whatever. Come to bed.\" He tiptoes back to his room, diving under the covers as soon as he's close enough. Zayn follows, toeing off his shoes and curling up beside him. <br \/><br \/>\"I talked to Niall a bit,\" he says quietly after a moment. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes. \"Ah.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Are you okay, mate? I thought this Spain thing would get it out of you.\" Zayn's hand rustles under the covers until he finds Louis's, entwining their fingers. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs, sighs a little. \"I dunno. It's just\u2013hard. Being back here. I guess. Alone. Whatever. It's just hard to not think about it.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" They're quiet for a moment. <br \/><br \/>Louis breaks the silence first. \"Have you seen him?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn bites his lip. \"A few times, yeah. I don't know. He's okay.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Is he\u2013?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn's hand tightens around his. \"Seeing anyone?\" Zayn finishes. \"I don't think so. I don't know. We don't, like, hang out. But I see him around, I don't know. Dev and I hang out a bit. I think he's just, like. I don't know. But, Lou, look. You're in really different places, you know? You're twenty one. You don't want to be married. He's twenty seven. He does. There's really just, like. I know you love him, but.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know.\" Louis squeezes his eyes shut. \"I know. I just\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"Miss him, yeah. But we'll find you someone, you know? To get you over this.\" Zayn scoots his body closer to Louis's, brushing his fringe away from his forehead with the hand not trapped by Louis's fingers. <br \/><br \/>Louis breathes an empty laugh. \"Yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Zayn chides. \"You've only been back two days, yeah? It'll get easier. Once this damn flat gets some heat.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis hums, hoping Zayn will take it as agreement, and tucks his head under Zayn's chin. \"I think I like Harry,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Zayn's arms tighten around him and he presses a kiss to Louis's hair. \"Yeah, love, but everyone likes Harry. I was wrong before, you know? It's not him I'm worried about with you.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I know.\" <br \/><br \/>\"It'll be okay.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Zayn makes him promise to make more of an effort with Liam, so in the afternoon, after Zayn's gone to work, Louis drags himself out of bed and into the shower, bundling up and trudging back to the coffee shop. <br \/><br \/>Liam smiles as he walks in and Louis finds himself smiling back. Liam's <i>sweet<\/i> and he can't begrudge him \u2013 or Zayn \u2013 that. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis! Yorkshire tea?\" Liam says as Louis settles himself at the counter. <br \/><br \/>\"Yes, please,\" Louis says, fingers already twitching to wrap around a warm cup. <br \/><br \/>Liam nods and busies himself behind the counter. Louis rests his head on his fist and looks around \u2013\u00a0it's not empty today. There are two couples at the tables by the windows: one pair kicking each other lightly under the table and giggling, the other reading quietly with their ankles hooked together. Louis blinks a bit and turns back to Liam. <br \/><br \/>\"So, how are you today, Liam?\" he asks as Liam slides him his tea. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh! Good! It's not too busy still, with all the snow, you know. Harry's taking a break. I honestly don't know what he does out there. He doesn't smoke, I don't think.\" Liam genuinely looks confused. <br \/><br \/>Louis arches an eyebrow. \"Sounds like a real hard-hitting detective story, mate. Better get on that.\" <br \/><br \/>Smiling down at his hands, Liam says, \"Yeah, sorry. I can be kind of dumb sometimes.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"I've experienced that feeling,\" he says. \"Once or twice.\" <br \/><br \/>\"How's your day?\" Liam asks. <br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Louis says. \"My flat still has no heat so I either have to be in bed or kitted out in full Arctic gear. So, there's that. Zayn dropped by, which was nice. And now I'm here! Real fast paced life, as you can tell.\" <br \/><br \/>Liam chuckles. \"Yeah, Zayn's in the back, if you want to find him. Doing the paycheques, thank god.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Hmm.\" Louis squints over at him. \"Isn't it a bit of a conflict of interest \u2013 you two?\" <br \/><br \/>Liam blushes, shrugging, and stutters over his words for a moment. \"I mean? It's not like he's running for office or something? It's just, you know. A coffee shop. I don't get, like, paid more...?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Relax, mate. I'm kidding. I don't think you're abusing your position.\" Louis smirks at him, winking. <br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Liam says, still blushing. \"Well. Yeah. Good.\" <br \/><br \/>And this is frustrating, because Louis was meant to win him over, or something. He's meant to make them all some sort of best friend circle so Louis isn't insufferable to Liam when he inevitably will third-wheel and he needs to, like, acclimate Liam to Louis and Zayn's friendship so there's no awkward jealousy and he needs to do it <i>better<\/i>, because all he's doing is making Liam uncomfortable. <br \/><br \/>\"So, I, um\u2013\" Louis starts, but he stops as Harry walks in, nose bright red from the cold and hair all windswept. He smiles brightly as soon as he sees Louis at the bar.<br \/><br \/>\"Couldn't stay away, could you?\" he teases, gaze sweeping over Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip around his own stupid grin. \"I'm actually working on my seduction technique with Liam here. I've already hooked you, love.\" <br \/><br \/>Liam's eyes widen. \"I\u2013oh! Well! I just\u2013I mean\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Harry walks by and claps Liam on the shoulder firmly. \"He's joking, Li. Honestly.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis squeezes his eyes shut. \"Sorry, Liam. You'll get used to me.\" <br \/><br \/>Muttering to himself about needing to ask Zayn something, Liam disappears down the back hallway quickly. Louis drops his forehead to the counter. \"He's meant to <i>like me<\/i>,\" he whines to Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Liam likes everyone. Don't worry about him. <i>I<\/i>, on the other hand, need constant convincing.\" Louis peeks up at him and he's grinning down wickedly. <br \/><br \/>\"Do you, now?\"<br \/><br \/>Nodding firmly, Harry says, \"Yes. Which is why I think we should all go out tonight, yeah? And we won't let Liam and Zayn fuck off. You should sit in between them. A good time will be had by all.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Alright. But you can convince Liam and Zayn. I shouldn't talk to Liam unless he's liquoured up, apparently.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"He just takes some getting used to. Or, well, <i>you<\/i> take some getting used to.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh?\" Louis asks, tilting his head, flirtatious. \"And are you used to me, Harry?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Not a chance, babe,\" he says with a smile. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>When he gets back to his flat, he's starving and staring at empty cupboards. It's frankly depressing. He feels like a squatter, actually: no heat, no food, no noise. He spins around and pulls his jacket back on, trudging outside once more, heading to the grocery. <br \/><br \/>Shopping whilst hungry is dangerous for Louis, and his basket is piled with biscuits and crisps and cheese and pasta and now he's in the ice cream aisle, trying to make a seriously difficult decision: does he go for it, or does he listen to the logical voice in his head saying <i>his flat has no heat<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>Fine. He turns away. He'll get some rum and hot butter mix. That sounds good and only <i>slightly<\/i> less depressing. Almost like tea. Not like drinking alone. Right?<br \/><br \/>He's staring at the ground as he contemplates the issue of impending alcoholism as he runs right into a body. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh!\" he exclaims, looking up. \"I'm so\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis.\" <br \/><br \/>Everything stops. Louis freezes, staring up at Greg. \"I\u2013hi. Greg. Oh.\" <br \/><br \/>He looks <i>good<\/i>, is the thing. He looks healthy and bright and he's in one of his stupid Christmas sweaters and his basket has food from all the seven groups and he's got his mobile phone in his hand and his <i>hair<\/i> and <i>face<\/i> and oh god. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks away, biting his lip. <br \/><br \/>\"How are you?\" Greg asks tentatively. \"I\u2013I heard you went to Spain.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Louis says quickly, flustered. \"Yep. Took a bit of a gap year. Gap term. Whatever. Went to Spain. Was lovely. Lots of fun, you know. New adventures and all. Good. Um. How are you? I, uh. Um?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I've been alright, yeah,\" Greg says. His mouth pulls down slightly. \"I haven't heard from you.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks up at him under the fluorescent lights in the fucking Tesco. He can't believe this is happening here, now. \"Right. Well. Needed some time, I guess. Um.\" <br \/><br \/>Greg nods a little sadly. \"Yeah. Um. Are you still at the flat? Er. Your flat. I mean.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yep. Yeah. I just got back two days ago. It's quiet. I keep waiting for you to make fun of my outfits. There's no bloody heat,\" Louis says. He feels wildly off-kilter, a spinning top two seconds from tipping over. <br \/><br \/>Greg's hand tightens around his phone briefly and he slips it into his pocket. He looks at the floor for a second, then back into Louis's eyes. \"Is... are you okay? How is everything? How's Zayn? Niall?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh!\" Louis says, forcing some life into his voice, a big smile across his face. \"Zayn's great, actually. So good. He has a boyfriend now! A bloke called Liam. Very sweet. Big and pretty, you know. Really great. I'm still in the process of making him like me. Apparently I'm a bit <i>much<\/i>.\" He's rambling now, laughing manically at his self-deprecation. Greg just looks sad and it's <i>terrible<\/i> because he's <i>not<\/i> going to be pitied by Greg. He's just not. <br \/><br \/>\"Good for Zayn,\" Greg says slowly. \"And you? Are you seeing anyone?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs again and holy christ he needs a drink or a fucking tranquiliser because he literally <i>cannot control himself<\/i>. He wraps the arm not holding his basket around his middle, clutching his hand desperately at his jumper, just to have something to squeeze. He fixes his smile and beams up at Greg and he <i>knows<\/i> he looks like he's either completely lost it <i>or<\/i> like he's about to fucking break down and he's not completely sure which is more accurate. <br \/><br \/>\"Me?\" he says, incredulous. \"No, no, you know me.\" He laughs again. \"Just, you know, living life. Ridin' solo, as they say. I don't know who says that. Not me usually. Sorry, wow. That was weird.\" He laughs more. <br \/><br \/>Greg's eyes are wide and sad and Louis wants to lock himself in one of these massive stock freezers to the left of them because <i>how is this happening<\/i>. They're quiet for a moment. <br \/><br \/>\"So, anyway, um. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?\" Louis cuts himself off before he makes some sort of snide remark about two-point-five kids and a house in the country or something, because that's. That's too much like what happened last time. <br \/><br \/>Greg glances away now \u2013 it's guilty, Louis knows him well enough still to know that \u2013 and Louis's heart is in his throat. <br \/><br \/>\"I, um, yeah. I've been seeing this guy for a few months. It's not really serious, um, yet. But, uh, yeah. It's good. His name's Tim.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Tim!\" Louis exclaims, smile firmly in place and hopefully without <i>crazy eyes<\/i>. \"Lovely. Wonderful. That is so great for you. And Christmas together, yeah? That'll be great. Well, wow, you know what? I'm actually running late for a thing! So, I should go! You've still got my number if you need me!\" He delicately sidesteps Greg and bounds a few steps down the aisle, decision <i>definitely<\/i> made to buy some rum. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou, wait\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, you know what else?\" Louis adds, spinning back to face him. \"I think you've left a book at the flat. About a big shipwreck? I've been reading it. It's quite good. I can give it back to you, though. Maybe Tim would like it.\" <br \/><br \/>Honestly, what the fuck greater power gave him the power of speech because Louis needs to have some harsh words with them. He smiles sunnily again and turns away. \"Bye, Greg!\" he calls. \"So good to see you!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Bye, Lou,\" Greg says softly. <br \/><br \/>Louis manages to make it all the way to the liquor section before leaning against the wall and putting his head in his hands. <i>Fuck<\/i>. He fumbles in his pocket for a moment until his fingers brush against his mobile. <br \/><br \/>\"'lo? Lou?\" Zayn says, sounding distracted.<br \/><br \/>\"Zayn,\" Louis gets out, choked.<br \/><br \/>He snaps to attention. \"Are you alright, babe? What is it?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis drags a hand through his hair, pushing the palm into his eye socket briefly. \"I've just run into Greg. At Tesco. He was buying whole-wheat bread.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're coming out with us tonight, right?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>\"We'll get plastered.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Love you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>At last count, he's had five vodka-redbulls and two shots of whisky. <br \/><br \/>\"You've a nice quiff, Zayner,\" he says \u2013 quite clearly, he thinks. <br \/><br \/>Zayn looks amused. \"Come again, love?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Quiff. The blonde. Quite like it. Very edgy. Bad boy.\" Louis pets his hair and Zayn bats him away. <br \/><br \/>\"You know better,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins. He feels warm and fluid and light. Liam's standing just behind Zayn, hands on his hips. Louis can't read his expression. <br \/><br \/>\"You alright, darling?\" he says to Liam. <br \/><br \/>Liam's eyes snap up to him and he smiles a bit tentatively. \"I'm fine, Louis. How are you doing? Can I get you some water?\" <br \/><br \/>Laughing, Louis shakes his head, letting his eyes wander as he leans back against the bar. He sees Harry talking to some tall bloke over by the pool tables. \"Whozat?\" he says, elbowing Zayn sharply in the ribs. \"Talking to Hazza, whozat?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn pulls a face, rubbing over where Louis struck him, and glances up. \"Oh. That's his friend Grimmy. The Breakfast Show host.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis narrows his eyes. \"Ah, yes. The famous <i>Grimmy<\/i>.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Lou...\" <br \/><br \/>Louis pushes off the bar and grabs his drink \u2013 he thinks it's his drink \u2013 calling over his shoulder, \"Won't be a mo!\" He's walking quite steadily, maybe. Not perfectly in the right direction, but he's upright. He counts it as a win. <br \/><br \/>\"Hazza!\" he cries, once he makes it up the four steps to the halflevel of pool tables. \"You disappeared on me! Bored already? We've only met the other day!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry turns to him and smiles, catching his waist as Louis just about tumbles into him. \"Hi, love. How're you doing? What've you been drinking?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Vodka things,\" he says, and immediately turns to face the tall, dark, and quirkily somewhat-attractive \u2013 Louis's hotter \u2013 man Harry's been <i>chatting up<\/i>. \"I'm Louis!\" <br \/><br \/>Grimmy smirks a bit, looking him up and down, eyes catching on where Harry's hands press into him, holding him up. \"I'm Grimmy. Harry's mentioned you once or twice.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis turns his face back to Harry, pleased to discover how close they are. He could nose into Harry's collarbone, maybe. Rest his cheek on his shoulder. Good. \"Has he? Have you?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry blushes and laughs a little good-naturedly. \"He makes things up all the time, don't listen to him. Except on the radio. I'm meant to promote that.\" <br \/><br \/>Grimmy huffs a short laugh. \"So this isn't the fit boy with the great... <i>cheekbones<\/i>, then, Haz?\" His eyebrows waggle suggestively on <i>cheekbones<\/i> and Louis laughs too, free of inhibitions. <br \/><br \/>\"Cheekbones, eh?\" he teases Harry. \"Yeah, I get lots of compliments on my <i>cheekbones<\/i>.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry closes his eyes and shakes his head, but he's laughing. \"You are both terrible. I'm a <i>respectful young man<\/i>, alright?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis grins and pokes a finger in Harry's dimples. \"Look at that face,\" he says. \"Take that face home to a mother, you could.\" <br \/><br \/>Grimmy barks a sharp laugh. \"Your boy is <i>pissed<\/i>,\" he says to Harry.<br \/><br \/>Harry nods a bit at Grimmy, pulling Louis closer and turning towards him, leading them to a table. Grimmy melts off, tipping his drink in Harry's direction, winking. Louis collapses into the booth, pulling Harry down next to him. <br \/><br \/>\"'m <i>drunk<\/i>,\" he says, delighted. \"Drunk and <i>you're here<\/i>! How lovely!\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, reaches out to brush Louis's sweaty fringe off his forehead. \"You are certainly drunk, love. Is everything alright?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little and tilts his head to press his temple against Harry's. \"A bit fucked, really, but I'll live.\" <br \/><br \/>Humming softly in acknowledgement, Harry scoots Louis's glass farther down the table, out of reach, and wraps his arm around Louis's shoulder. \"Wanna talk about it?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and tugs on one of Harry's curls by his ear. \"You don't wanna hear about it. 'S not fun.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, if you wanna talk, I wanna hear it.\" Harry pulls him closer, tucking their heads together. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and makes a halfhearted attempt for his vodka. \"Just, like. Have you ever been in love?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles a little sadly. \"No. I guess you have?\"<br \/><br \/>Drawing a design on the grimy table with his finger, Louis says, \"I was with this guy for about a year and a half. Perfect and stuff, right? But he was older and he wanted the whole marriage and kids and house and just. I couldn't do that, you know? Like I'm twenty one, right?\" He looks up at Harry, begging him to understand. <br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes are soft. \"Of course, Lou, yeah. It's not a bad thing to not be ready.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"We broke up about six months ago and I ran away to Spain and then bumped into him at Tesco tonight and now I am very much too drunk.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry makes a sympathetic noise. \"Do you wanna go home?\" <br \/><br \/>Nodding pathetically, Louis buries his face in Harry's neck. Harry lets out a breathy laugh and says, \"Okay, love,\" sliding out of the booth and tugging Louis up with him. \"Let's just get a taxi, then. Can you tell me your address?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis mumbles it out, eyes drooping. He's losing his happy-drunk fast, sinking into that stage of about-to-pass-out drunk. Harry walks them towards the door, stopping only when Zayn grabs his arm.<br \/><br \/>\"The hell you think you're doing, mate?\" Zayn says angrily to Harry, trying to tug Louis away from him. \"He's <i>out of it<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis tries weakly to protest and Harry talks over him smoothly, \"Zayn, mate, come on. Who do you think I am? I'm just taking him home. He's had a rough day, you know?\" <br \/>\u2028Zayn's grip loosens on Louis's arm, but he's still staring hard at Harry. \"I'll take him home.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"It's fine, man. You enjoy your night with Liam. I'll make sure he has water and everything.\" Louis smiles a bit to himself and folds back under Harry's arm. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says, watching them carefully. Harry nods and starts to turn Louis again toward the door, but Zayn stops them again. \"Haz?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry turns back, keeping Louis steady. \"Yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Stay the night, yeah? Don't let him wake up alone.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods again, shortly, and they're finally free to go. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis wakes up way too early, immediately closing his eyes to the hazy-blue light of the winter morning. His stomach rolls and his head pounds and his mouth tastes like a bear vomited in it and <i>death is coming<\/i>. Greg's arms are tight around his waist and he scoots back into his body tiredly, hoping like hell he can get more sleep. <br \/><br \/>Except, wait. <br \/>\u2028Shooting up into a sitting position, Louis stares down at the boy in his bed, heart pounding. Harry blinks blearily, jerked awake by Louis's sudden movement. <br \/><br \/>\"Are you okay?\" he rasps. \"Do you need to throw up? There's a trash can on the side of the bed.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him for a beat longer. \"Are you\u2013? Did we\u2013?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes widen and he sits up too. \"Louis, <i>no<\/i>, christ, no. You were <i>trashed<\/i> and I took you home and I meant to sleep on the couch, but \u2013\u00a0did you know your flat is bloody sub-arctic?\" <br \/><br \/>Blinking a few times, Louis lays back down, pulling the covers tight over him. He catalogues what he's wearing: pants and an undershirt. Harry's dressed similarly. He doesn't <i>feel<\/i> like he's had sex, and when he was younger he definitely had his fair share of blackout fucks. Okay, then. Smiling sheepishly at Harry he says, \"Sorry. I know you wouldn't do that. I just\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little, curling his hand around Louis's wrist. \"I know. I get it.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis groans. \"I feel like death, actually.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Well, yeah. Vodka-RBs will do that. Mixing it with whisky will do it better and faster. Sorry, love. There's some paracetamol on the nightstand.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a half-grin in thanks and rolls over to reach for it. After swallowing it down and getting the bear-puke taste out of his mouth, he says, \"Why are you <i>here<\/i>, then? Shouldn't you be out shagging by the millions?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry snorts. \"Excuse me?\"<br \/><br \/>Curling back down next to him, Louis widens his eyes innocently. \"I've heard about you, Mr. Styles.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh?\" Harry raises his eyebrows. \"And what, pray tell, have you heard?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, the usual stuff,\" Louis says lightly. \"Orgies, different blokes every night, you know.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, turning to bury his face in the pillow. \"Christ,\" he says, muffled.<br \/><br \/>\"I don't judge, don't worry.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry peeks back up at him. Louis smirks. <br \/><br \/>\"Do you <i>believe<\/i> that?\" Harry asks. <br \/><br \/>\"Well, I don't really know you, mate. It could be true,\" Louis says, shrugging. <br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes and turns over on his back. \"Trust me, it's not.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis quirks an eyebrow, burrowing deeper into the covers.  \"Oh?\" <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Harry says, arching an eyebrow right back. \"I'm a closet romantic. Don't tell anyone. Wouldn't want to ruin my reputation, apparently.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis forces a little laugh, hiding his reaction in his duvet. His heart is <i>twisting<\/i> and, like, what the fuck, he definitely didn't allow this. \"How sweet,\" is all he says back. \"Gonna make someone very lucky someday.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him for a long time and then glances away, lips twitching up a little sadly. \"I guess so, yeah. Someday.\" <br \/><br \/>They go quiet. Harry stares out at the still-falling snow and Louis tries to disguise how he's staring at Harry through his eyelashes. Eventually Harry looks back at him, kicking at his shins under the covers. <br \/><br \/>\"How about I make some breakfast?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins a bit, huffing a dry laugh. \"I am all for that, if you're some kind of wizard-type. I've got like crisps and biscuits and milk. If I'm lucky. I don't fully remember.\" <br \/><br \/>\"How are you a grown-up?\" Harry pulls a face. \"Nutrition is important. I heard that on the BBC.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yes, <i>mum<\/i>, I'm just trying to hold on to my youth and youthful figure for as long as I can. Shut up.\" Louis kicks back at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Laughing, Harry reaches out and starts pinching at Louis's side and stomach, saying, \"Youthful figure, huh?\" and Louis squeaks, squirming away wildly, and they start rough-housing until Harry grins, rolling them together so Harry's arms wrap around Louis, holding them both still. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks up at him, heart racing. Harry just smiles back, softly. \"Can I take you to breakfast, then?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Louis whispers, and Harry beams. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>It takes them awhile to get out of the flat, because Louis needs to shower the day before off him and then choose an outfit and do his hair and Harry takes every opportunity he can to mock him for it. Louis just grins into the mirror privately, relishing the weird comfort that signs of life bring. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh my <i>god<\/i>, princess. You look phenomenal. Gorgeous. I won't be able to keep my hands off you. Can we <i>go<\/i>, please? I'm fucking starving and I'm wasting away and no one will find me for weeks because this flat is so fucking cold that my body will freeze, postponing the decomposition process.\" Harry's laying flat on his back on Louis's bed while Louis fusses with his hair in the bathroom. <br \/><br \/>He yells back, \"At least some of us take pride in our appearance and don't feel the need to subscribe to the <i>false and horrifying<\/i> trend of dirty-chic.\" His fringe has been fine for awhile, but he's just soaking up the feeling of someone in his bed, talking at him as he gets ready. He's missed this. <br \/><br \/>\"But you could take pity on me, right? By trying not to look stunning and emphasise the contrast between you and dirty old me.\" Harry's staring at the ceiling, clutching at his stomach, when Louis walks out of the bathroom. <br \/><br \/>\"You're ridiculous,\" Louis says. \"I don't think it's possible to be prettier than you.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry looks up and smiles, giving Louis a blatant once over. \"I'm questioning both the quality of your mirrors and your eyesight, darling.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Let's go, then. Where are you taking me?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry hums. \"I was thinking something big and greasy for breakfast and then \u2013 if you're not busy \u2013 I've got the day off and I've been really wanting to go to the aquarium.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I\u2013\" Louis squints his eyes over at him. \"The <i>aquarium<\/i>? Are you real?\"<br \/><br \/>\"If you don't want to\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"No!\" Louis cuts him off. \"I do. You're just... cute.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry blushes a little bit, smiling at the ground. \"Shall we go then?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Well, I say, good chap,\" Louis says, holding out his elbow for Harry to loop his arm through. \"Let's face the day.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>They both order huge fryups for breakfast, and there are only a few derisive <i>youthful figure<\/i> comments that Louis answers with a swift kick to the ankles, and it's <i>good<\/i>. Harry asks Louis about university and Louis learns more about Harry's  <i>tragically hipster<\/i> band and then they sit in their booth for awhile, making up stupid backstories for all the other patrons, and they don't try very hard to muffle their laughter. Harry pays, much to Louis's indignation as he actually tries to <i>wrestle<\/i> the cheque from Harry's hands, and it's <i>good<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>When they walk to the aquarium after breakfast, their hands keep brushing together and Louis hovers between a state of pleased and embarrassed, wondering what Harry would do if he linked their fingers together. He <i>knows<\/i> Harry likes him; he knows they have this mutual flirting thing going on; he knows if he tried anything, Harry wouldn't <i>reject<\/i> him, but. But he's just a little fragile. A little shaken. And the thought of opening himself up like that again is terrifying, but what's mostly terrifying is how badly he <i>wants<\/i> it and how acutely aware of how he'll collapse if something goes wrong again. He's just not sure if it's fair to himself <i>or<\/i> Harry to start something he can't follow through on. But he wants.<br \/><br \/>Harry keeps sending him these little private smiles, nudging at him with his entire body, keeping Louis so <i>aware<\/i> of his presence, of his physical closeness. Louis has to close his eyes and breathe a few times, reminding himself this is <i>happening<\/i>, that it seems unavoidable. <br \/><br \/>Harry likes the sea otters best, because of course he does. He keeps grabbing at Louis's arm, whispering loudly, \"Look, Lou! They're holding hands. Look! Oh my <i>god<\/i>, that's so cute. Oh my god. They're floating around holding hands. I want to try that. We need to find a swimming pool. Where's a swimming pool? Can we try that?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis can't stop smiling, is the thing. <br \/><br \/>They spend forty minutes at the sea otters, with Harry documenting every goddamn move they make. <br \/><br \/>\"You should get a notebook,\" Louis says. \"Observe, record, hypothesise. Isn't that how it goes? I took sciences once.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry pulls a face. \"If I wrote down my thoughts, I'd need a sparkly pink pen and lots of heart stickers, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Let's see the jellyfish. I love the jellyfish.\" He tugs on Harry's sleeve, guiding him towards the door. As his hand slides down Harry's arm, he glances back out of the corner of his eye. Harry bites his lip and captures Louis's hand in his own. <br \/><br \/>Louis can't stop smiling. <br \/><br \/>They stand in front of the huge jellyfish tank, leaning against each other, hands entwined. Harry says, \"These aren't that cute.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and nudges him with his elbow. \"But they're hypnotic, look at how they move.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Right, but they're not floating around holding hands, Lou, and that's really what I'm here for.\" Harry squeezes Louis's hand for emphasis.<br \/><br \/>Louis tries to sigh, to pretend he's annoyed, but all he can do is smile like a complete idiot, staring at their reflection in the glass. Harry's smiling back at him. <br \/><br \/>\"Wanna go?\" Louis asks, turning toward him. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"Sure. What do you wanna do?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Let's go for a walk.\" <br \/><br \/>They head back outside, winding through small crowds of people, never letting go of each other's hand. It's snowing when they push the doors open, and Louis scampers out into the middle of the sidewalk, tilting his head up and letting flakes hit his face. <br \/><br \/>\"Winter's not so bad,\" he says, cracking an eye open in Harry's direction. <br \/><br \/>Harry's standing a few feet away, hands shoved in his pocket and watching Louis <i>adoringly<\/i>. Louis's breath catches in his throat. <br \/><br \/>\"C'mere,\" Harry says, tilting his head. <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows and walks over, standing in front of him. <br \/><br \/>Harry whispers, \"I really like you, Louis,\" and he looks unsure, not quite blushing, but almost. <br \/><br \/>Louis reaches up and tugs on the collar of Harry's coat, pulling him down slightly. \"I really like you back,\" he says, and Harry smiles, red lips spreading into a huge grin across his face. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, good.\" And then he leans down further, pressing a cold kiss to Louis's lips, and it's sickeningly perfect. The snow's swirling down around them and their lips heat up against each other's and Harry's hands are huge, pulling Louis in by the small of his back. Louis wraps one arm around Harry's neck, the other palming his smooth cheek. <br \/><br \/>After a moment, Harry pulls back, resting his forehead against Louis's. \"Is this okay? I mean... I know you've just gotten out of something, and\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Louis cuts him off by pressing his lips to Harry's quickly. \"I really like you,\" he says again. \"In, like, the long-term kind of way. You just \u2013 you might need to be a little patient with me.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, pulling Louis in tighter, and brings one hand up to card through Louis's hair. \"I can do patient.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I can be really annoying,\" Louis warns. <br \/><br \/>\"So can I,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis wrinkles his nose. \"And I can be really bitchy.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head, smiling. \"I'm a big boy. Stop trying to talk me out of this.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm just letting you know!\" Louis says, tugging on one of Harry's curls by his ear. <br \/><br \/>\"You're crazy,\" Harry says, \"if you think you're going to put me off by being <i>human<\/i>, Lou.\" <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>They end up at the coffee shop in the late afternoon. Liam and Zayn are behind the counter, gazing <i>lovingly<\/i> at each other, and Louis and Harry start making overdramatic gagging noises, pretending to puke. <br \/><br \/>\"I hate you both,\" Zayn says, turning toward them. His eyes widen as he sees their fingers tangled together and he looks at Louis quickly. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles back, a real one. <br \/><br \/>\"So,\" Zayn says hesitantly. <br \/><br \/>Harry lets go of Louis's hand and wraps his arm around his waist. \"A Yorkshire tea for the lady, and I'll take a hot chocolate. Chop chop!\" <br \/><br \/>Liam is smiling to himself as he starts heating the milk and Zayn keeps staring suspiciously. \"Explain.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I\u2013\" Louis starts, then stops, glancing at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry just tightens his arm around Louis. \"I quite like your boy, Zayn. Do I need to ask for his hand, or something?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn blinks a few times. \"I\u2013I mean. Well. Good? Just. Lou...\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I quite like your boy, Zayn,\" he repeats sarcastically. \"Do I need to ask for his hand, or something?\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn makes a face. \"Lou<i>is<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles at him, privately and reassuring. \"Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at them for a few minutes, considering. \"Yeah. Okay. Good, then.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles and shakes his head. \"Li, could we get those to go?\" and then he says to Louis, \"I want to show you something.\" <br \/><br \/>Liam nods, pouring their drinks into disposable cups and slides them over. \"Have fun, lads,\" he says with soft grin. Louis raises his cup to him. <br \/><br \/>\"Cheers, mate.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis gives Zayn one last happy look, and Harry drags him towards the back door. <br \/><br \/>\"Zayn always gives me a hard time for taking so many breaks, but you'll see why,\" Harry says as they push out back into the cold air. Harry takes his hand and leads him down the alley. <br \/><br \/>They walk for awhile in silence, warming their hands in each other's and with their drinks, until Harry pulls him to a stop. \"Look,\" he says, pointing. <br \/><br \/>There's a small pond at the end of the street, really not much more than an incredibly massive puddle, but it's surrounded by trees and piles of fluffy, white snow. The ice is thick, frozen completely through, and Harry pulls him forward again, to the edge. <br \/><br \/>\"I really like to ice skate,\" he says sheepishly, as if he's embarrassed. <br \/><br \/>Louis's heart does that stupid twisting thing again. He steps out onto the ice, holding both his hands out to Harry. \"This is the sappiest thing I've ever done,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, stepping out, and starts sliding them together, skating messily in their winter boots. \"I could stay out here for hours.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I've got nowhere to be.\" <br \/><br \/>Tugging Louis's hand, Harry slides Louis into his body, wrapping his arm around him. \"I'm glad you came back from sunny Spain, Louis Tomlinson. <br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" Louis says, nudging his nose up against Harry's. \"You know, I'm rather glad myself, Harry Styles.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry leans down to kiss him, pulling Louis's lower lip between his, biting softly, palming at his lower back. Louis arches up into him, sliding his cold fingers into Harry's hair, opening his mouth slightly into the kiss. <br \/><br \/>After a moment, Louis pulls back to say, \"If that even is your real name.\"<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:13466","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/13466.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=13466"}}],"title":"captain's privilege (hs\/lt)","published":"2012-10-23T20:30:34Z","updated":"2012-10-23T20:32:26Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: captain's privilege<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: 2,200 words<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: it's a steak and blowjob kind of night. (post-match head, essentially.)<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: this is short and stupid, but hahaha. wish i was harry.<br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>Louis sinks down onto the bench in the empty dressing room, leans his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes. <br \/><br \/>He's wet and he's distantly aware that he's cold and that he's shivering, but it has to be adrenalin. Everyone's gone \u2013 to the pub or home or... he's not sure. He needs a minute away from the screams, the hugs, the cameras. <br \/><br \/>He's overwhelmed in a way that he hasn't been in a long time. He's overwhelmed with love for his town, for the fans, for the sport, for his family. He's overwhelmed with the sheer rush of emotion that comes from kicking a ball, from a successful cross, from a gritty slide-tackle. <br \/><br \/>And it's not like he's unaccustomed to being adored. He's not. It's stupid and shitty, but he's used to the screams, the marriage proposals, the admissions of undying devotion, all of that. He's not <i>ungrateful<\/i> or anything, he's just. Well, it's been almost three years. Three years of constant adoration is fucking mindblowing, yes, but it's also become a little hollow. He's well aware that his <i>talents<\/i> are secondary to his looks, to his relationship with his band, to the band as a whole. He's well aware he's not appreciated so much for what he can <i>do<\/i> as he is for the image he presents. <br \/><br \/>But tonight. Tonight was different. Tonight he was out with his old mates \u2013 his old mates who just see him as Tommo, the loud little shit from down the street \u2013 doing what he hasn't been able to do for two years. He was out having a kickabout with his mates and it felt right. It felt like something he was good at, something he knew about, something he's felt inside him forever. <br \/><br \/>Except, shit, he was on the pitch at Keepmoat playing against footballers he idolised (or hated) ever since he was a kid, with ten thousand people watching, yelling his name, being there for <i>him<\/i> to see what he could <i>do<\/i>, not what shade of trousers he was wearing or how often Harry left his hand on his back for too long. <br \/><br \/>There's a shuffling by the door and Louis cracks open an eye. <br \/><br \/>Harry's standing there, leaning against the doorjam, smiling softly. \"Hey, skipper,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins a little. \"Here for an autograph?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry raises his eyebrows and nods. \"'ve got a kit for you to sign,\" he says, pulling a tiny shirt from his pocket, tossing it at him. <br \/><br \/>Louis grabs it, flips it over. LUX 17 it says. He laughs a little. \"Got a sharpie?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Haven't you?\" Harry gasps. \"Big footballer that you are, gotta be prepared, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"Shouldn't I have people to carry that around for me by now?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Oi, the success is getting to your head. Next thing we know, you'll be stropping around, demanding transfer to Real Madrid. Or worse, <i>Chelsea<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Louis says, tilting his head, considering. \"John Terry <i>is<\/i> at the end of his game. Also racist. And generally a shit person. I could do better than him.\"<br \/><br \/>\"John Terry's also about three feet and a billion stone bigger than you, babe,\" Harry says back, pushing himself away from the door and stepping over to stand in front of Louis, looking down at him. \"Though you held your own out there wonderfully. Was a bit worried all the big strong men would push you down and I'd have to carry you to hospital.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and halfheartedly kicks out a foot at Harry's knee. \"Tosser.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry hums consideringly and shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it on the floor at Louis's feet. Louis arches an eyebrow as Harry gingerly gets on his knees in front of him. <br \/><br \/>\"Captain's spoils?\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry smirks and slides his hands up Louis's thighs, chuckling a little. \"You're <i>cold<\/i>, Lou. Why haven't you showered yet?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Was waiting for you,\" Louis says, shivering. <br \/><br \/>\"Mm.\" Harry runs his fingertips under the edges of the compression shorts before reaching up to the waistband and tugging at the elastic of both pairs. \"Lift up,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis stays where he is and looks down at Harry's expectantly. Harry sighs. \"Lift up, captain,\" he amends. <br \/><br \/>Grinning smugly, Louis braces himself against the wall and tilts his hips up, giving Harry access to pull his shorts down, pooling them around his ankles and boots on the floor. He settles back down on the bench, gasping, \"Fuck,\" as his bare arse touches the cold wood. <br \/><br \/>Harry snorts as he bends down, kissing a line up Louis's right thigh to his hip. \"Think I can warm you up?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs breathily. \"You've got a good a shot as any, I s'pose.\"<br \/><br \/>Smiling into the crease of his hip and thigh, Harry mumbles, \"Bet you'd get millions of offers tonight. So fucking good out there, Lou. So fucking amazing.\"<br \/><br \/>Closing his eyes and leaning his head back to bump against the wall, Louis sighs. \"Yeah?\" he says quietly, and immediately feels pathetic. <br \/><br \/>Harry glances up at him, lifting his lips from where they were sucking a mark into the thin skin stretched over his hipbone. \"God, Lou, don't you know?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis scrunches his face up and strokes a hand through Harry's hair, tugging him back down. Harry resists minutely.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" he says. \"You smashed it. You were a proper footballer. I heard Fowler talking out there to Saunders, right, and he was making comparisons to Gerrard, to Giggsy. Fuck, Lou, it's unbelievable.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Louis mutters. \"Not gonna get me hard by talking about Steven goddamn Gerrard.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles, shakes his head. \"Fine,\" he says. \"But we're talking about this later. I'm gonna praise you so much you'll think you made the wrong career choice, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts, but Harry ducks back down, tickling Louis's skin with the ends of his hair, and spreads Louis's thighs as wide as they'll go with his hands on the inside of his knees, fitting his shoulders between. <br \/><br \/>Louis grunts, \"Wait,\" and toes off his boots, kicking them to the side, pushing his tangled shorts off as well. Harry smirks. <br \/><br \/>\"Much better,\" he says, and hooks Louis's legs over his shoulders. <br \/><br \/>Louis's fingers tighten in Harry's hair. \"Oh god,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry sucks another bite to the inside of Louis's thigh, close enough to his cock to get his hips bucking. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Harry<\/i>,\" he whines. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks up again, all heavy lidded eyes and pink mouth. \"What'd'you want, Lou?\" he whispers. \"Captain's choice.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis gazes down at him, brushes his thumb down the line of his jaw, over his swollen bottom lip, over his cheekbone. \"Feels like a steak and blowjob kind of night, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry buries his laugh into Louis's skin. \"\"S'what I was thinking,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Then stop bloody teasing!\" Louis snaps, tugging briefly on the curls wrapped around his fingers. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs again and spreads his huge hands back between Louis's legs, pushing them off his shoulders and as wide as they'll go. He glances up again, licking his lips showily, before licking a stripe up Louis's half-hard cock. <br \/><br \/>\"Shit,\" Louis sighs. <br \/><br \/>Bringing his hand up to fondle at his balls, Harry licks again and again, sliding his tongue up and down, coaxing Louis to full hardness despite the cold of the dressing room. He pulls off, jacking slowly, his saliva slicking the movement. Harry stares down, watching Louis's cock disappear in his huge hand. <br \/><br \/>Louis bucks his hips up slightly. \"'m ready,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry grins filthily. \"Oh, I know, captain,\" he says, and slides his hand down to grip tightly at the base, pressing his lips to the head. His tongue flicks out, stroking at the slit where precome is bubbling lazily. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Harry<\/i>,\" Louis grits out. <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles once again, this time around his cock, and bobs down, taking him halfway, tongue flicking. Louis clenches his fingers briefly, before relaxing and stroking through his hair, cradling Harry's skull in his hands. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, Haz,\" he breathes. \"C'mon, you're so good.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry lifts off a bit, pressing his soft lips to the head, and then goes back down, hollowing his cheeks, and the slick heat of Harry's mouth causes Louis to punch out a deep breath, clenching his fingers again. Harry starts bobbing in earnest, sliding his tongue roughly against the underside of Louis's cock, lips tight, squeezing around him. <br \/><br \/>He pulls off again, working his mouth against the head, teasing, tongue flickering soft licks until Louis is so hard, so wet inside his mouth. He groans and Harry leans back, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. <br \/><br \/>\"Gonna go for it?\" Harry asks, raising his eyebrows. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks down at him. \"Are you sure?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles. \"It's your night, Lou,\" he says, clasping one of his own hands around Louis's at the back of his head. \"Take what you want.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis lets out a strangled little noise and flutters his eyelashes. <br \/><br \/>\"C'mon,\" Harry urges again, and fine. Fine. Louis drags Harry's head back down and Harry closes his eyes, taking Louis back in as deep as he can, before relaxing his throat and completely submitting. Louis's hips twitch forward and Harry groans around his cock, sending vibrations up through him like a heavy bass. Keeping his hand tightly on the back of Harry's head, Louis guides him up and down, staring wide-eyed at himself disappearing in and out of Harry's mouth, hard and red and slick; at Harry's lips, full and tight around him; at Harry's face, relaxed and open, with slight tears forming at the corners of his eyelids. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>God<\/i>,\" Louis moans, and pushes him all the way down, gasping as Harry's throat flutters around him, swallowing but never choking. \"God, Harry,\" he says, holding him down, and Harry's fingers clench at his thighs, pressing in, fingertips whitening. Louis pulls him all the way off and Harry sits back on his heels, gasping. Louis brushes his thumbs over his cheekbones, wiping at the tears there. \"So good for me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry stares into his eyes and licks his lips again. \"Come for me, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles faintly, and Harry takes him in again, all the way down, swallowing tightly then pulling off, up and down, each time taking Louis in all the way, fucking him into this throat in earnest. <br \/><br \/>Louis leans back and tangles his fingers between Harry's, still gripping his thighs. His hips are moving of their own accord, meeting Harry's mouth in a set rhythm, and Harry squeezes at his his hand briefly before pulling it away and wrapping it back around the base of his cock, screwing his mouth down until his lips are kissing at it, sucking in earnest.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh god, Harry, oh god oh god, I'm gonna come, oh god,\" Louis gets out through gritted teeth and Harry pulls back till just the head is in his mouth and starts jacking his hand furiously, slick noises coming from every stroke. His orgasm hits and Louis bangs his head back against the wall, biting his lip, unable to stop a high whimper from this throat, unable to stop his eyes squeezing closed. He feels Harry swallow around him, holding him in his mouth, sucking lightly, tasting everything. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck,\" he whispers as his head starts to clear. He opens his eyes and stares down at Harry. Harry gazes back at him, smiling softly, red cheeks and red lips and red-rimmed eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs weakly. \"Hey.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry pushes himself up, wincing at the ache in his knees, and settles on the bench beside Louis, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in so his head catches in the curve of his neck.<br \/><br \/>\"You're beautiful,\" Harry says quietly, \"always. Out there on the pitch, in here, onstage, everywhere. You're so fucking talented, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts and presses a kiss to Harry's adam's apple. \"I know. I'm the best, essentially,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs, kisses the top of Louis's head. \"Wish you could see it like I can, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just shakes his head, but reaches out to grab Harry's other hand, tangling their fingers together. \"Shower with me?\"<br \/><br \/>\"'Course,\" Harry says. \"Then I think the Man of the Moment needs to make an appearance at the pub, yeah?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis chuckles. \"You gonna buy me a drink?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Mate,\" Harry laughs, \"I think I'll have to join the queue to buy you a drink. Captain of the damn town tonight, you are.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and pushes himself to his feet, a little unsteadily. \"Shower with me, buy me a drink, take me home, and I'll pay you back for sucking my brain out my cock, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles up at him, eyes soft. \"Sure. But I haven't even come close to finishing your reward, skipper.\"<br \/><br \/>Arching an eyebrow, Louis points at him. \"I'm gonna hold you to that,\" he says, and turns to walk to the showers, hips swaying. He glances back to Harry, smirking. \"Coming, then?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins wickedly. \"I sure hope so.\"<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:12933","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/12933.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=12933"}}],"title":"many moons have come and gone (hs\/lt)","published":"2012-10-11T16:47:16Z","updated":"2012-10-11T16:47:16Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: many moons have come and gone<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: harry styles\/louis tomlinson<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue. <br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~8,500<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: they can never seem to communicate when it matters. but it's all love, anyway. SEQUEL TO <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/8526.html\" target=\"_blank\">blackjacks running down my back<\/a>.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: um, so from what i've gathered, 'blackjacks' was kind of a hit with y'all, so i really hope this isn't a disappointment! infinite thanks to my one true, <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"influira\" lj:user=\"influira\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/influira.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/influira.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>influira<\/b><\/a><\/span> for everything, and of course <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"miss_mady\" lj:user=\"miss_mady\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/miss-mady.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/miss-mady.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>miss_mady<\/b><\/a><\/span> for her encouragement, and everyone on <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.tumblr.com\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">tumblr<\/a> for their massive love. you're all absolutely fantastic and i appreciate every single thing you say to me. also i have a ton of comments to catch up on and leave on fic and i'm so behind, i'm really really sorry! <br \/><br \/>here's the <a href=\"http:\/\/www.mediafire.com\/?9n21r0zbj152g5t\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">mix<\/a> for this one. it's not as good as the last one, but it's important, i guess. <br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>\"Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis groans slightly, wondering why a polar bear is talking to him. Why this polar bear knows his name. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou!\"<br \/><br \/>Seriously, though. Louis didn't even know polar bears could speak. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis, hey, love, wake up,\" and oh. Louis blinks his eyes open, grumbling nonsense under his breath. <br \/><br \/>Harry's standing next to the bed, stroking Louis' fringe off his forehead. \"Hey, babe, I've gotta go. I'll see you tonight after the shows?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks some more, still hazy from arctic dreams and too-early hours. \"Wha'?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip before leaning over and pressing quick kisses to Louis' cheek, temple, nose, forehead. \"Have to meet up with my bio group before class, then I'm busy all day,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says. \"We haven't, like, hung out in a long time, Haz.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know.\" Harry sighs, grabbing Louis' hand from next to the pillow, twining their fingers together briefly. \"I'm sorry. It's just... you know. My classes are getting crazy.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says and Harry kind of twists his mouth sadly. Louis brings their hands up to his mouth, kissing Harry's knuckles. \"This weekend?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Harry opens his mouth, and his expression causes Louis' stomach to drop. <br \/><br \/>\"Never mind,\" Louis says, cutting him off. He forces a smile. \"We'll figure it out. Study hard. Do me proud, and all that.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry twitches his lips into an almost-smile back and squeezes Louis' hand, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. \"I'll see you later. Love you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Love you,\" Louis says back and curls up under the covers again, wrapping his arms around himself. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Hello, party people!\" Louis chirps into the microphone. \"I hope you're having a lovely evening already, because it's about to get pretty wicked. Here's Katy Perry with 'Teenage Dream' and I don't want to hear any complaints about how it's like <i>sooo<\/i> 2010, because I love this song and you know you do too.\"<br \/><br \/>He presses play and slips off the headphones, just as one of the producers walks in the booth. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou!\" Greg says. \"Hey!\" <br \/><br \/>Louis tilts his head back, getting an upside-down view of Greg. \"I didn't swear! I am a hundred percent positive I didn't swear!\" <br \/><br \/>Greg laughs. \"No, I know, I'm literally just saying hi.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says, and he takes his feet off the counter and swivels his chair around to face him. \"Well. Hi!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Can I sit?\" Greg asks, motioning to the empty chair next to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"No,\" he says. \"Get away from me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"So what are you playing next?\" Greg says as he sits down, sliding the chair closer to see Louis' playlist. <br \/><br \/>Louis growls and tilts his screen away. \"Get away. You're awful.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Wait,\" Greg says. \"Did I really just see 'My Boo'? Are you serious?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sniffs. \"I don't know about y'all but I know about us.\"<br \/><br \/>\"And\u2013uh\u2013it's the only way we know how to rock,\" Greg finishes. \"Let me guess. You're dedicating that to darling Harold?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Louis says, and leans back in, switching on the mic. \"Alright, and I'm thinking tonight is going to be a throwback night, because here's Usher featuring Alicia Keys with 'My Boo.' Relive being thirteen again, because having a crush when you're thirteen is quite honestly the best feeling.\"<br \/><br \/>He presses play and sticks his tongue out at Greg. \"I'm a hit,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Greg rolls his eyes. \"Believe me, darling, I know. So, what's your Harry dedication tonight, then, if not fucking 'My Boo'?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Louis says, pulling a face. \"I'm not a complete sap, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Greg says. \"Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Let me see your playlist and see if I can guess, okay?\" Greg reaches out to take his laptop. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes, but hands it over. \"You're not going to get it.\" <br \/><br \/>Greg snorts. \"Try me.\" He starts scanning over the list of songs quickly, making considering sounds. \"These are all love songs. You are actually disgusting.\"<br \/><br \/>\"They're not all for Harry!\" Louis protests. \"Just, like...\"<br \/><br \/>\"Most of them?\" Greg finishes, arching an eyebrow. \"I may puke.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up!\" Louis says again. \"Guess. I'm interested now.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Greg says. \"Okay, using my intense detective powers, I'm going to guess 'Crazier' by Taylor Swift, because you usually choose Swifty for him. Because you're a little arsehole.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and the Usher starts fading out, so he switches the mic back on and says, \"This next one is dedicated to our own Harry Styles, who's up next. It's called 'Crazier' and it's by Harry's favourite, Taylor Swift.\"<br \/><br \/>As soon as he hits play, his phone buzzes on the counter and Greg makes to grab it but Louis gets there first, sending Greg a warning look. <br \/><br \/><i>i hate you xxxxxxx<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis smiles to himself, typing back, <i>love you miss you ): xx<\/i><br \/><br \/>\"That the lover boy?\" Greg asks, tilting dangerously in his chair, trying to peer at the screen.<br \/><br \/>\"Seriously, James, you need a sense of privacy,\" Louis says, sliding his phone in his pocket. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, you know I'm just jealous,\" Greg says, a teasing lilt in his voice, and Louis rolls his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't you have actual work to do?\" Louis asks, kicking out at him. <br \/><br \/>Greg shrugs. \"I mean, my main job these days is making sure you don't swear on air, so here I am, doing that.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis wrinkles his nose. \"Does this mean I'm going to have to put up with you in here every Monday?\"<br \/><br \/>Smiling winningly, Greg says, \"Don't pretend like that doesn't send shivers down your spine.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis huffs a laugh, shaking his head. He pulls up his email and leans back into the mic. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright, guys, I've gotten quite a few emails this week, but I've only got time for one tonight, so I'm really sorry! I'll try to get back to everyone privately. Anyway, this is from 'A Lot Of Nothing Ever,' which, nice acronym, and she says: <i>dear louis, i'm twenty years old and i've never been on a date or kissed or anything and i'm wondering if there's something wrong with me. i just have no interest in doing that with anyone and i don't even really like being touched that much. do you think there's something wrong with me?<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sits back a little, straightens up in his chair, and clears his throat. \"Okay, ALONE, this is a really interesting email, and thank you for trusting me, and us, enough to send it, because I know that can't have been easy. But first off, no. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, and before I say anything else, I need you to know that. Everyone is different, and everyone's sexuality is different. I'd recommend doing a bit of research on asexuality and aromanticism and similar labels, because maybe if you find something you identify with, you'll feel a little bit less alone. But labels are ultimately just that: labels, and they're just words. The most important thing is to feel comfortable and accepting of yourself, and to realise that you are not weird or broken or wrong at all, no matter what society might make you think. Good luck, and feel free to write again.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg's kind of staring at him and Louis raises an eyebrow, before continuing, \"And now, we're gonna hear some Rita Ora. Here's 'Shine Ya Light.'\"<br \/><br \/>He turns back to Greg. \"What?\"<br \/><br \/>Greg shrugs. \"You're really good at that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Louis says, rolling his eyes. \"Thanks for noticing, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I've never seen the master in action,\" Greg says. \"It adds a certain something.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he pulls it out. <br \/><br \/><i>try to stay awake after my show ;) i have a surprise<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis purses his lips in an attempt not to smile, but he hears footsteps down the hall anyway and fixes his eyes on the doorway. <br \/><br \/>Harry appears through it within seconds. His eyes light up as soon as he sees Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, you,\" he breathes, and flicks a glance over at Greg. He nods, saying, \"Oh, hey, Greg.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg nods back, smiling politely. \"Alright, Harry?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, mate, thanks. How are you doing?\" Harry asks, standing halfway between the door and Louis, and Louis doesn't appreciate this. <br \/><br \/>\"So, Greg,\" Louis says loudly, cutting him off preemptively. \"Weren't you just saying you had really important work to do elsewhere?\"<br \/><br \/>Greg's raises his eyebrows until they crawl up towards his hairline. \"Was I? Must have slipped my mind.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Nope,\" Louis says. \"I'm almost certain there was something that was quite urgent that must be taken care of.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" Greg says, tapping his nose and pointing at Louis. \"Yes, the top-secret, ultra-confidential, case-sensitive uni radio business. You're right. Thank god you reminded me.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles beatifically. \"S'what I'm here for.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg gets up and heads for the door, giving Harry a quick slap on the back as he passes by. He pauses just before turning into the hallway and looks back at Louis. \"Seriously, though, Lou. Good show.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis waves him off. \"Thanks, mate. See you later.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's watching Louis when he turns back to the controls. \"One more song,\" Louis tells him. Harry nods, smiling softly. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright, guys, I'm about to hand this over to Harry,\" Louis says into the mic, \"so I'm gonna leave you with some Adele. This is her cover of 'Make You Feel My Love.' See you next week. You're all beautiful.\"<br \/><br \/>He flips off the mic and slides out of his chair, wriggling into Harry's lap and presses a series of soft kisses to his mouth. \"Hey,\" Louis whispers, tangling his fingers in Harry's hair. <br \/><br \/>Harry's hands come up to stroke down Louis' back, squeezing lightly at his hips, pulling him tight. \"Hey, you,\" Harry whispers back. \"How was your day?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Missed you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says, and looks down. \"I know. Me too.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says. \"Hey, Haz, look at me. It's okay, yeah? You're busy. I get it.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his hair out of his eyes. \"I know. I just. It sucks, you know? I just want to be around you all the time.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles into Harry's eyes. \"We should see if Hallmark's hiring.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Harry laughs. \"I'm trying to be, like, serious.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know, love,\" Louis says, chuckling a little. He kisses the tip of Harry's nose. \"Fuck school, right?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"Yeah. Everything's just getting dumped on me right now, you know? Like it's my last term and suddenly I have more work than ever. Combined.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis kisses the top of his head, now. \"If there's anything I can help you with, you know. Just tell me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head a little, as if to clear it. He smiles and digs his fingers into Louis' side, right where he's most ticklish. Louis squeaks, squirms. \"I love you, you know,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"I know, you freak. Play your stupid, unlistenable music and I'll see you at home.\" He slides off Harry's lap and gathers his gear, throwing it into his bag. As he heads toward the door, he turns back and arches a cheeky eyebrow in Harry's direction. \"Is this surprise something I should, ah, prepare for?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smirks down at his laptop, before turning to wink at Louis. \"If you felt like, I suppose. Or you could leave that to me.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles. \"See you in a bit, love.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry waves. \"Listen.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Always.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>As soon as Louis flips on the radio when he gets back to their flat, Harry's rich voice floats over him as he says, \"This next on is for Louis. It's called 'Atlas Hands' by Benjamin Francis Leftwich. Love you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles to himself, rubbing his hands over his face. He drags out his copy of Anna Karenina and his notebook, settling at the dining room table with a cup of tea. <br \/><br \/>They only have three months of university left, and on one hand Louis is unbearably excited. He's thrilled for the opportunity to become a real person, to make his own decisions and fuck things up on his own, and experience that whole scary in-between space of not having a career and not being in school. He's been hearing from Radio 1 producers about maybe taking an internship there and his stomach twists because ever since he sat in the radio studio his first year of school, he's wanted to do this. <br \/><br \/>And he thinks London would be a spectacular place to live on his own for the first time. The whole world is in London, or some stupid cliche that Liam would probably burst out with, completely unironically. <br \/><br \/>There's just \u2013 it's just, like. He and Harry haven't talked about <i>anything<\/i>. They talk about everything else that pops into their heads \u2013 every stupid half-thought about varieties of cheese or what Gordon Ramsay would look like in a thong, but they haven't talked about what they're going to do in <i>three months<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>The thing is, if there's one thing Louis is not insecure about, it's his relationship with Harry. They've been together for two months, officially, but Louis likes to discount their years of being stupid, so he really just calls it forever. <br \/><br \/>Forever has a nice ring to it, he thinks. <br \/><br \/>But he's worried that Harry's not thinking about forever. He's worried Harry's got his own future all sorted. He's worried, mostly, that Harry's not considering them in his forever.<br \/><br \/>\"<i>I've got a plan; I've got an atlas in my hands<\/i>,\" sings the radio. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs, presses his palms into his eyes. He opens his book and takes out his highlighter. Homework now, he thinks. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" says the rabbit, this time. \"Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks, lifts his head up. A page sticks to his cheek. Harry's smiling down at him again. \"Tolstoy not getting you off tonight?\" he asks.<br \/><br \/>Louis groans. \"Time's it?\"<br \/><br \/>\"A little after midnight. Let's just go to bed, love,\" Harry says, tugging on his elbow gently.  <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis protests feebly. \"You had a surprise.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"It can wait, babe.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says again, pouting. \"I want a shag.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry says, leveling him with a look. \"We're both tired. Let's just...\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Harry<\/i>,\" Louis whines. \"Shag me. Shag me shag me shag me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"We'll see, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis groans, but heaves himself up from the table, leaving everything spread out. He'll deal with it tomorrow. He follows Harry into his bedroom, which has morphed into <i>their<\/i> bedroom and that thought never fails to warm him up. <br \/><br \/>Harry starts stripping down and Louis sits on the bed, watching. Harry throws him a pointed look. \"Get changed.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs, pulling off his shirt and tugging down his trousers, grabbing a teeshirt from the floor, lifting it over his head. As it settles, Harry's staring at him again, this time with a decidedly different look in his eyes. <br \/><br \/>Louis raises an eyebrow. \"Yes?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins wickedly. \"Love you in my clothes,\" he says simply. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances down at himself, noting how the shirt hangs down, almost grazing his thighs, pulled loose over his collarbones. \"Ah,\" he says, smiling. <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head ruefully, saying, \"Come here,\" holding out his hand. <br \/><br \/>Louis kneels on up on the bed, tugging Harry down to kneel on the other side, wrapping his arms around his neck. \"I miss you,\" he whispers against Harry's lips. <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"I miss you all the time,\" he says back, sliding his hands down Louis' ribs to settle one on his arse, the other on the back of Louis' thigh, hitching him closer so their legs are entwined, thighs laced together so Louis is straddling one of Harry's. <br \/><br \/>Pressing their lips together, Harry gently turns them, holding onto Louis tightly, dipping him down so they're lying flat on the bed, Harry leaning over Louis, hips pressed together. <br \/><br \/>Louis lets out a soft noise, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss, tangling their tongues together. Harry groans a little, shifting himself so they're better lined up, letting their half-hard cocks graze together through the thin cotton of their pants. Louis' eyelashes flutter, and he slides his legs out from underneath Harry's, brings them up to wrap around his waist, hitching his hips up pointedly. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry sighs, breaking away. \"You're so tired.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not!\" Louis argues. \"I rested, remember? Tolstoy read me a bedtime story.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry says, and Louis lets out a sharp noise.<br \/><br \/>\"Harry, I barely see you. You're always out studying or at class or who the fuck knows what and I never see you and right now you're here and I miss you and I want you, okay? So can you fuck me or get me off or <i>something<\/i>?\" Louis snaps. <br \/><br \/>Harry pulls back a little, blinking. \"Lou,\" he starts. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"Sorry. Just. Sorry. I don't mean to, like, blame you. Sorry.\" He lets his legs fall back to the bed and glances away. <br \/><br \/>Harry brings his hand up to brush Louis' fringe from his eyes, running his fingers delicately along his eyebrows, his cheekbones, down to rub over his bottom lip. \"I hate this, too, you know?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says quietly. \"Yeah. It just sucks being the one waiting around.\"<br \/><br \/>Sighing heavily, Harry rolls off Louis to slump next to him, sharing the pillow. \"I'm sorry, for what it's worth,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"No, I'm not, like, looking for an apology. You have to do what you have to do. I get it. I'm just being selfish. <i>I'm<\/i> sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry leans in again, kissing a trail up Louis' neck. His hand slides under the t-shirt Louis is wearing, and he rubs lightly at Louis' ribs, hand spanning across his side, thumb stroking a circle into the soft skin of his stomach. He trails his fingers down lightly to play at the waistband of Louis' pants. \"We could...?\" Harry offers. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles sadly at him, resigned. \"No, you're right. I'm tired. We'll just... you're right.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry says softly. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs a little, pecking a kiss to Harry's lips, and another to his cheek. He turns over, back to Harry, but keeps ahold of Harry's hand, bringing it around him and holding it close to his chest, pressing the palm against his heart.<br \/><br \/>Harry curves his body around Louis', pulling them together so they're touching from ankles to where Harry's mouth is pressed against Louis' neck. <br \/><br \/>\"I love you,\" Harry whispers. <br \/><br \/>Louis tightens his grip on Harry's hand. \"I know,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry's gone when Louis wakes up the next morning. There's a note tucked inside the Tolstoy on the kitchen table. <br \/><br \/><i>tried to wake you to say goodbye but you needed the sleep i guess. love you. i'll see you tonight. maybe dinner in? if you want. i love you xxxx<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and crumples the note in his fist, before immediately feeling guilty and flattening it out again, using it to hold his place in the book. <br \/><br \/>He texts Zayn, <i>brekkie?<\/i> <br \/><br \/>After a shower and getting dressed, there's a knock at the door. He pulls it open. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright?\" Zayn grumbles. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"What's up with you?\" he asks, studying Zayn, noting his flat hair and dark circles under his eyes, with an outfit Louis is <i>sure<\/i> hasn't been washed in awhile. <br \/><br \/>Zayn grunts, shrugging back. \"Up all night.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts, waggling his eyebrows. \"I see.\"<br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Zayn shakes his head. \"Paper.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, ew.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah. Dining hall?\" Zayn offers. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods, grabbing his jacket. He shoves his hands in his pockets and they walk in silence across campus. <br \/><br \/>Finally, Zayn says, \"Gonna tell me what's wrong, then?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"It's nothing.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs humourlessly. \"It always is. Go on, then.\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's just\u2013\" Louis stops, sighs. \"It's stupid, like, I shouldn't complain, really.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Zayn says.<br \/><br \/>Louis huffs out a breath. \"Okay, well, it's like, Harry's classes have gotten really intense lately, and he's just never around. And if he is, he's always tired and just. Out of it. I don't know. It's not his fault and I shouldn't complain.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn hums thoughtfully as they reach the dining hall. He pulls the door open and holds it for Louis. They wander through the buffet lines, grabbing a bagel each and some orange juice, with a cup of coffee. <br \/><br \/>\"I mean,\" Zayn says, picking up the thread as they sit down, \"have you talked to him?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I mean, a little? But, like, what can I say? Tell him to drop out of class and focus all of his attention on me? It's not his fault,\" he says again. \"And it's not like it's forever.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn raises an eyebrow. \"Yeah, speaking of, have you guys talked about what happens next?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis studies the poppy seeds on his bagel. \"Have you and Liam?\" he asks, avoiding the question. <br \/><br \/>\"Uh,\" Zayn says, \"<i>yeah<\/i>, Louis. I think we talked about that first when we started dating. Two years ago.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glances up at Zayn. \"Seriously?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You guys haven't talked about that?\" Zayn says, incredulous. \"<i>Louis<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and looks across the room at nothing, eyes unfocused. \"I just. I just have no idea what he wants,\" he says quietly. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Zayn sighs. \"He wants to be with you. He's wanted to be with you since you fucking met, alright? You both just have to figure out what that means, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>\"But what if he gets a job in Liverpool, or something? And I get a job in London? How's that going to work?\" Louis asks, a hysterical note in his voice. <br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Zayn says slowly. \"That's something you have to talk about. With <i>him<\/i>. Like a proper grown up in a proper relationship, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>\"But I don't want to scare him off!\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn widens his eyes. \"You think telling him that you want to make your relationship work in real life is going to scare him off?\" he asks. \"Have you ever met Harry? Has he changed drastically since I last saw him?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis picks up on the unspoken <i>are you stupid?<\/i> implied in Zayn's tone. He picks at his bagel again. \"I know, shut up,\" he says. \"I just. You know.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shakes his head. \"You gotta get past your weird insecurities about this, Lou. He wants to be with you and you want to be with him and everything beyond that is details.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I hate talking to you,\" Louis says by way of reply. <br \/><br \/>Zayn snorts. \"You hate being called out, more like.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, but lets it go at that. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>That afternoon, after his Russian Literature class, Louis is trudging back across campus, thinking idly about getting coffee before going back to the flat to get started on his paper. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis Tomlinson!\" comes a voice booming behind him. <br \/><br \/>He turns, and once again, \"Are you stalking me, Greg James?\" he asks, smiling. <br \/><br \/>Greg grins sunnily. \"I just can't reign in my excitement, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"What're you up to?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Just got out of class,\" Greg replies. \"Gonna get some coffee. You?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says, blinking. \"Me too.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Great!\" Greg holds out his elbow, as if he's in the 1720s, and Louis rolls his eyes, ignoring it. <br \/><br \/>Greg carries on. \"I have so much to do tonight, god, it's like the professors don't care that it's spring and all we care about is getting laid and the sun!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"I feel you. I've got a paper due in two days and I keep falling asleep on it.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg hums sympathetically. \"I know, right? I have to work on massive proofs and also keep little shits like you from fucking up this grand university's reputation on the airwaves.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Life's rough,\" Louis agrees. <br \/><br \/>\"So where's lover boy?\" Greg asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs and doesn't say anything, squinting into the hazy brightness of English sunlight. <br \/><br \/>\"Uh oh,\" Greg says. \"Trouble in paradise? You crazy kids will work it out.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis clenches his jaw. \"Everything's fine, mate, thanks.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg's expression softens. \"Do you wanna talk, or something?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs again, and plops down into a booth at the far corner of the cafe. He bats his eyelashes up at Greg. \"I'd love a latte,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oi, I see,\" Greg says, laughing. \"Fine, but when I get back, we'll chat, yeah?\" He points at Louis, an eyebrow raised expectantly. <br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says, smirking. \"Skim milk, please.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg rolls his eyes. \"Okay, princess.\"<br \/><br \/>Five minutes later, Greg sits down across from Louis and slides a mug toward him. \"Now, spill. All the dirty details. I'm invested, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Are you?\" Louis asks, arching an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, yes,\" Greg says. \"Can't bear to see the cutest couple ever to walk the earth fall apart.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Gross,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Please<\/i>, mate, you two dedicate songs to each other every show. It's puke-worthy, is what it is.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Don't hate me because you ain't me,\" Louis sings, smirking. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shut up,\" Greg says. \"Is everything okay, though? <br \/><br \/>Louis' lip twitches as he takes a sip of his coffee, sobering slightly. \"I mean, yeah, everything's fine. We're just busy and, like, I miss him, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg nods. \"Yeah, the end of the year is rough like that. Have you planned out what you're gonna do next year?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis scrubs his fingers through his hair, frustrated. He says, sharply, \"Jesus, why do we have to have everything planned out already? Why does it matter? Why can't it just be like, hey, let's move to Morocco, and have done with it? It's not a fucking big deal.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whoa,\" Greg says, eyes widening. \"Uh, it <i>is<\/i> kind of a big deal to most people, is all. I just figured you two would be that kind of couple. Sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis actually wants to scream, maybe, because being lectured on this for the second time in a day is pretty specifically something he's <i>not interested in<\/i>, and it's stupid that all these other fucking people think they know his relationship better than he does, or Harry better than he does, when in actuality, Harry won't even talk to <i>him<\/i> about it, so what the fuck could they know?<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says. \"It's whatever. Who knows what will happen next year? Maybe we won't even be together. This whole conversation is stupid. I have homework.\"<br \/><br \/>But Greg's not looking at him anymore, because Greg's looking up and to the right of Louis' shoulder, face carefully blank and eyes very, very startled. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Harry says from behind him. \"Okay.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says quietly. <br \/><br \/>Greg stands. \"I'm gonna \u2013 yep, okay,\" he says, and disappears quickly back out into the commons. <br \/><br \/>Louis turns to face Harry, who's frozen behind him. \"Harry,\" he says again. <br \/><br \/>Harry blinks a few times, eyes glassy and huge. \"I didn't know you felt that way,\" he says, and fuck, his voice breaks on that last word. <br \/><br \/>Louis feels like he might actually have a knife through his stomach. \"I don't. Harry. You know I don't.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I have to go meet with my study group,\" Harry says, staring down at the ground. \"Maybe I'll see you later, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis whispers, \"please.\" He stands up and reaches out to catch Harry's arm, pulling him closer. \"Please. I didn't mean that. I don't feel that way.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry squeezes his eyes shut. \"I really have to go, Louis,\" he says, twisting out of Louis' arms. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs hollowly, brittle. \"Yeah. You always do.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Harry mumbles, stumbling back. \"Right.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis watches him leave. \"Fuck,\" he whispers to himself. \"Fuck.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry doesn't come back to the flat that night, and Louis knows he's with Niall, because he's not stupid, but there's still the <i>what if what if what if<\/i> running through his head incessantly. <br \/><br \/>Zayn texts him around midnight. <br \/><br \/><i>you're a motherfucking idiot.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis curls around himself on Harry's empty bed. <i>i know<\/i>. <br \/><br \/><i>this is exactly what i said you should not do, you actual shit for brains cunt,<\/i> Zayn sends back almost immediately. <br \/><br \/>Louis throws his phone across the room and it lands on a pile of Harry's dirty clothes. <br \/><br \/>He's not going to cry, is the thing. He's not.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next few days are tense. Harry is barely around, but that's become status quo. It hurts more now, though. It hurts more now, because Harry's not crawling into bed late at night for cuddles and kisses and soft whispers as they drift off to sleep. <br \/><br \/>It hurts more, because Louis hears the front door close quietly after midnight every night, and  then he hears Harry's bedroom door close just as quietly a few minutes later. Louis pulls his comforter over his head and tries not to think about how long it's been since he's slept in his own bed, in his own room. He tries not to think about how long it's been since he's slept alone. <br \/><br \/>He goes to class and he wanders around campus aimlessly, listening to shitty, sad, love songs and staring at the sky and ignoring every single text or call from Liam or Zayn or Niall, and he curls up in his bed in his own room and he ignores the click of the door every night and he is totally, totally fine. <br \/><br \/>By the time Monday rolls around, Louis hasn't actually seen Harry in two days. There are only hints to his existence around the flat \u2013 a few more dishes in the washer, a jumper across the back of the couch that wasn't there the day before, the quiet sounds of another life, just out of reach. <br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't even know if they're broken up or not. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't cry. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Greg's waiting in the studio when Louis gets there. Louis quirks his lips up into a facsimile of a smile, the best he can do. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Greg says. \"Hey, um. How are you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Smashing, mate,\" Louis says flatly. \"You probably should sit in this week. Watch my language and all that.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg hesitates, then nods. \"I... I just. Fuck. I'm so sorry. I feel responsible?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Don't. My fault.\"<br \/><br \/>\"If \u2013 if you want to talk, or anything...\" Greg offers, trailing off. <br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him for a moment. <br \/><br \/>\"Actually, the last time I tried that, I ended up losing the best thing in my life, so,\" Louis says with an edge to his voice. He sighs immediately. \"Sorry. Sorry. No. It's not your fault at all. Just. Ignore me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"It'll be okay,\" Greg says. \"He loves you so much.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis clenches his jaw and tightens his lips. \"Please stop,\" he says quietly. <br \/><br \/>Greg nods and reaches over, nudging the microphone in front of Louis. \"Go get em, tiger.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes himself, straightens up, and flips on the mic. \"Hey, pretty ladies. And boys, I choose to believe. I hope you're all fantastic tonight, because you deserve it. I'm Louis Tomlinson with your favourite radio show on air, so let's get it going. To kick us off, here's some Ke$ha with 'The Harold Song.'\"<br \/><br \/>He presses play and pushes the mic away, pulling out the headphones and letting the song fill the room, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, Lou, no,\" Greg says. \"Come on, mate, none of this.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Greg,\" Louis says, forcibly polite through his teeth. \"Please don't take this the wrong way but kindly fuck off.\"<br \/><br \/>His phone buzzes in his pocket and he grabs for it with embarrassing desperation. He glances at the screen. Niall. He sighs, but opens it. <br \/><br \/><i>he's listening x<\/i> is all it says. <br \/><br \/>As the song fades out, Louis leans back in. \"Alright, here's 'Viva Forever' by all our favourites, Spice Girls. Had such a crush on Geri, back in the day. As you do.\" <br \/><br \/>After a few minutes, Greg speaks up again. \"Christ, Lou, you're going to make everyone suicidal. You better have some Girls Aloud coming up, or something.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I do!\" Louis says defensively. <br \/><br \/>Greg narrows his eyes. \"What song?\"<br \/><br \/>\"A good one, fuck off.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"'I'll Stand By You'?\" he says tentatively. <br \/><br \/>\"Give me your laptop,\" Greg orders. <br \/><br \/>\"No!\" <br \/><br \/>Greg looks at him for a moment, before his expression melts into something softer. \"I just want to see, Lou, I won't change anything.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes, slides over his laptop. Greg furrows his brow immediately. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" he says. \"You're the only person in the world who could find a sad Mika song, I swear to god.\" <br \/><br \/>\"It's not sad,\" Louis snaps, and grabs the mic. \"Next up is Mika with 'Blue Eyes.' Hope you're all studying hard and all that. I'll get to some of your emails next.\"<br \/><br \/>As soon as he says it, his email pings and he wrestles the laptop away from Greg, aiming an elbow at his pancreas. \"Jesus,\" Greg gasps. <br \/><br \/>Louis quickly opens his email, scanning over it. \"Ugh,\" he says. \"My mood has affected others.\"<br \/><br \/>Greg shoots him a flat look. <br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Louis says absently. <br \/><br \/>As the song fades out, Louis leans back in. \"Alright, now, I had a different email prepared, but I just got this one and I think it fits better with the theme of the show tonight. So here we go. It's from Lost In A Mudpuddle, apparently, and they say: <i>hey, louis. so i know this couple who recently sort of broke up but not really and they really need to talk it out, but i don't know how to get involved without appearing to take sides. they're both my best friends and one is hiding away and not seeing anyone and the other is throwing everything into school and ignoring the problem. what should i do? i love them too much to let this happen.<\/i>\" <br \/><br \/>Louis straightens up and rolls his eyes at Greg, who's looking lost. \"Well, LIAM,\" he says wryly, \"I'd recommend staying out of it, because it's none of your bloody business, and they'd probably appreciate being left alone. Thanks anyway, mate.\" Louis takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, tugs at his fringe a little, and then he leans back in and adds quietly, \"Take care of him, please,\" and then, in a much louder voice, he says, \"And now, here's Girls Aloud with 'I'll Stand By You'.\"<br \/><br \/>There's a shuffling in the doorway behind them, and Louis whips around. Harry's standing there, clutching his bag across his chest and staring at the ground. \"I can, um, wait in the lobby,\" he mumbles, turning to leave. <br \/><br \/>Louis shoots Greg a <i>get the fuck out<\/i> look and says, \"No. No, Harry, wait.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry pauses and Greg squeezes by him, giving him a small smile and giving Louis a stern look. <br \/><br \/>Louis swallows. \"Hey.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry kicks at the ground a little with his shoe. \"Hey.\" He doesn't look at Louis. <br \/><br \/>Glancing rather desperately at the time left on his song, he says, \"Harry, I'm so sorry. We need to talk and I need to... I need to know that we can fix this.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry raises his eyes to Louis' then, and Louis bites his lip, because Harry's eyes are sad and sunken and the skin underneath them is bruised and his mouth is bitten red and turned down. He shrugs at Louis. \"If we're not going to be together after we get out of here, what's the point?\"<br \/><br \/>The song's coming to an end and Harry quickly pulls out his laptop, leaning into the mic. \"Hey, everyone. Harry Styles here. Gonna start you off with some Imagine Dragons. Here's 'Bleeding Out.'\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry turns back to Louis and rubs a hand over his face, through his hair. \"Go home, Louis. We can talk when I get back.\"<br \/><br \/>So Louis nods \u2013\u00a0because what else can he do? \u2013 and trudges to the door. He pauses, leaning his head on the doorjam. \"I love you,\" he says to the floor. <br \/><br \/>Harry's quiet for a long moment and Louis swallows, prepares to leave without an answer for the first time. <br \/><br \/>But then, \"I love you, too,\" he says quietly. \"Go home.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The first thing Louis does when he gets home is turn on the radio. <br \/><br \/>Jack's Mannequin is playing, and Louis falls back on the couch, pulling a throw pillow over his face. Harry would never play this, if not for him. Louis isn't even sure how they got here, really. He's not sure why he hasn't cornered Harry before now, caught him and held him till he let Louis explain, till he understood. <br \/><br \/>He's not sure why Harry hasn't cornered <i>him<\/i> and yelled at him, made him apologise, explain, <i>something<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>Harry's voice fills the flat, then. \"That was Jack's Mannequin with 'Swim,' which, sorry. Guess you're getting two depressing shows back to back. Here's Stabilo with 'Kidding Ourselves.'\"<br \/><br \/>Louis curls in on himself, then, and stares at the wall for the next hour, letting Tegan & Sara, To Have Heroes, and Rilo Kiley wash over him. <br \/><br \/>Harry comes back on, \"Alright, before I let Dev take over, I have two songs left. This first one is The Swell Season with 'In These Arms,' and after that you'll hear Hope with 'Who Am I To Say.' Hope this gets the point across. See you all next week.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, Harry,\" Louis mumbles into the dark room, \"I <i>fucking get it<\/i>.\" He throws the pillow as hard as he can at the radio. It switches off. <br \/><br \/>Twenty minutes later, Louis hasn't moved and the front door opens. Harry walks in, eyes darting over Louis on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. \"Lou,\" he says, and comes over, sitting on the opposite end. Louis pulls himself up, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his forehead in them. <br \/><br \/>\"That wasn't\u2013\" Louis starts and stops, breathing harshly. \"What I said the other day, that wasn't anything I wanted. Want. It's not what I want.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"I know.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks up, eyes narrowing. \"What do you mean, <i>you know<\/i>. You haven't spoken to me in almost a week.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry tilts his head back to rest against the couch, closing his eyes. \"Louis, it's like. I know you love me. I don't, like, doubt that. But I also know how I feel, you know? And that scares me, I guess. It scares me because you've never once brought up what we're gonna do next year. And I can't handle feeling like <i>this<\/i> if it's not as important to you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him, hard. \"What are you saying, Harry?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I just.\" Harry shrugs. \"I love you and I love you in the long-term kind of way, I guess is what I'm saying. And if that's not what you want, then we need to figure that out right now.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis opens his mouth, and closes it. Opens it again. \"Harry,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry opens his eyes and turns his head, still leaning his neck back against the couch. He looks so <i>tired<\/i>. Louis wants to crawl over and fit himself alongside him, wants to wrap him up in his arms, wants to kiss away the tightness behind his eyes. <br \/><br \/>But Louis stays where he is. \"Is that how I come off to you? Like I don't care?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rubs his eyes. \"No, Lou. No. But all I know for certain is how I feel, you know? That's all I have.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods slowly, and reaches out with his toes to nudge Harry's thigh. \"Hey. Look at me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry peers over at him blearily, eyes heavy-lidded and exhausted. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath. \"I'm not good at this sort of thing,\" he starts. And then he reconsiders. \"Well, I'm not good at <i>talking<\/i> about this sort of thing, I mean. I'm good at feeling it, because, like, Harry, I've felt it for you for years. I've got practice.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry blinks once, twice. \"Wait. What? What is <i>it<\/i>, specifically.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh.\" Louis furrows his brow. \"Um. I didn't\u2013? I mean. Forever, you know? Like. In that I really don't ever want to, like, not be with you? I guess? If that's okay with you?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry huffs out a sigh that borders on a laugh. His lips curve upwards slightly. \"I think I'll survive that revelation, yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him, considering the three feet still between them. Harry looks back, eyes soft and warm, finally. \"C'mere,\" Harry rasps. <br \/><br \/>Louis crawls over to him, cupping his hands on his jaw and presses a small kiss to the corner of his lips, before moving up his face, trailing kisses across his cheek, the bridge of his nose, between his eyes. \"I love you,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Harry wraps his arms around him, pulling Louis sideways into his lap, fitting one hand around his hip and the other tightly on his thigh. \"I love you, too,\" he says, and presses his forehead into Louis' shoulder. \"And I'm sorry I never brought it up either. It's not all on you. It's never been all on you. I guess I was just scared to hear something that would hurt?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis huffs out a small laugh and curls his fingers around the back of Harry's neck. \"I... yeah. Me too. Exactly, me too.\" <br \/><br \/>Lifting his head up, Harry smiles into Louis's eyes. \"We're dumb,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"The dumbest.\"<br \/><br \/>\"So,\" Harry says, tightening his hands on Louis, pulling him closer, and sliding his fingers under his shirt, up to trace over his ribs. Louis squirms into Harry's chest, ticklish. \"Forever, then?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles into Harry's neck, breathing him in. \"Okay.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" whispers the waterbuffalo. <br \/><br \/>And again, with a little nudge. \"Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks his eyes open, smiling up at Harry. \"Hey, you,\" he rasps. <br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes crinkle and he leans down to kiss Louis deeply, tangling their tongues, curling them together. <br \/><br \/>\"Whoa,\" Louis says, pulling back. \"You brushed your teeth. Not fair.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry huffs a laugh. \"I don't care. Shut up.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis wrinkles his nose. \"But\u2013\" he starts, and is cut off by Harry's lips on his again, tugging his lower lip in between his teeth. Louis closes his eyes and melts into it, bringing his hands up to grasp Harry's hair, guiding his head against his lips.<br \/><br \/>Harry slides his hand up Louis' chest, rolling over to fit himself between Louis' legs, the thin cotton of their pants the only barrier between them. He rolls his hips slightly and Louis sighs against his lips. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Harry murmurs, glancing down between them. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes, bringing a leg up to fit behind Harry's knees, pulling him in closer. His hand slides down Harry's ribs and grabs at his arse, hitching his own hips up against Harry's. \"Do you need to ask?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles a little, dipping back down to kiss Louis softly.  \"I missed you so much, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis squeezes his eyes shut. \"What was that surprise you had for me?\"<br \/><br \/>Smirking, Harry brings his hands down from where they were cupping at Louis' jaw to paw at their underwear. Louis sighs, frustrated, and lifts his hips to shove them down, wriggling his legs out from under Harry to kick them to the side. Harry laughs a little, pushing his down as well, hooking them around his foot and flinging them across the room. <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts, but is immediately cut off by the press of Harry's cock against his, rutting up, turning it into a groan. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" is all Harry says back, before sliding down Louis' body, leaving a path of kisses down the dip of his sternum and into the dip of his hips, before sucking a mark on his inner thigh. <br \/><br \/>Louis groans, grabbing a handful of Harry's curls. \"Haz.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles against his skin wickedly, nipping gently at the thin skin next to his cock where his thighs begin. He raises his eyes up to meet Louis', dark and blown out, and Louis drops his head back against the pillow, breathing out heavily. <br \/><br \/>\"You're so beautiful,\" Harry mutters, and then he takes Louis' cock in his hand, circling lightly at the base. He presses a kiss to the tip, where a thin shine of precome is already   present, and then he licks his lips and takes Louis all the way down. He pulls off briefly, jacking his hand, spreading the wetness from his mouth, before ducking back down, taking him halfway and hollowing his lips as he sucks. <br \/><br \/>Louis arches his back, head thrown back against the pillows, eyes tightened closed. His hips twitch upwards toward Harry's mouth and Harry slaps his free hand down on the sharp wing of bone, holding him still. He pulls off, breathing harshly. \"Lube, Lou,\" he says hoarsely. <br \/><br \/>Louis shudders a sigh and Harry quickly tightens his hand at the base of Louis' cock, holding him at bay. Eyelashes fluttering, Louis takes a deep breath and gropes blindly into the nightstand until his fingers brush up against the tube and he grabs it, pressing it into Harry's hand. <br \/><br \/>Harry kisses Louis' thigh in thanks, and drizzles some on his fingers, taking Louis' cock back down, deep in his throat, distracting him from the fingers tracing wetly around his hole. <br \/><br \/>Louis groans weakly, throwing an arm over his eyes, stomach clenched in an attempt to keep his hips from bucking. \"<i>Harry<\/i>,\" he moans. \"<i>Please<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles around Louis' cock, and slowly slides his middle finger inside. Louis lets out a sharp breath, and Harry starts fucking it in steadily, building up a rhythm before adding a second, curling in on the upstroke. He drags his mouth up and off Louis, sitting up on his knees, spreading Louis' legs further apart with his other hand. <br \/><br \/>\"You almost ready for me?\" he asks quietly, studying Louis' flushed skin, blood rising to the surface of his cheeks, chest, stomach, and thighs. Harry's cock is so hard that it must hurt, anger-red and flat against his stomach. Louis nods desperately. \"C'mon,\" he chokes out. <br \/><br \/>Harry ignores him for a few moments, keeping up the steady pace with his fingers and squeezing desperately at Louis' thigh, trying to stay in control. \"Okay,\" he says. \"Yeah,\" and he slowly takes his fingers out of Louis, squeezing more lube into his hand, slicking up his cock. He leans down, nudging at Louis' jaw with his face, tilting his head up and kissing along the soft skin of his neck, up past his ear and to his cheek before bringing their lips together, sucking at Louis' mouth as he positions himself against Louis' hole. <br \/><br \/>Louis gasps as he pushes in, clutching at Harry's back, nails digging in. He shoves his hips out to meet Harry's, and Harry groans as he struggles not to fuck in too soon. Louis isn't having that, though, and he shifts his back, bringing his heels up to rest against the small of Harry's back, pushing him closer. <br \/><br \/>\"I can take it, Haz,\" Louis grits out, squirming underneath him. <br \/><br \/>Harry lets out a shaky breath and says, \"Yeah, babe, I know,\" and starts thrusting in earnest, sliding Louis up the mattress until he has to reach up and grasp at the headboard to give himself leverage. Each rock of Harry's hips causes a short <i>uh<\/i> to escape his lungs and Harry licks every noise out of his mouth. <br \/><br \/>It's been a long time for both of them, and Louis feels himself pushed closer to the edge as each second goes by. He laces his fingers at the base of Harry's neck and stares up into his eyes for as long as he can until Harry brings his own hand down to wrap back around Louis' cock, twisting slightly on the upstroke and Louis has to squeeze his eyes shut as his head drops back and his mouth parts, letting out a small whimper as he comes across his stomach. <br \/><br \/>Harry groans and ducks down, bites at Louis' stretched neck, clamping down on the curve of muscle between his neck and shoulders, jerking his hips sharply, once, twice, before pressing in as deeply as he can and letting go. <br \/><br \/>After a few moments of breathing together, Harry rolls off to the side, bringing Louis to turn into him. \"Hey,\" he says breathlessly, eyes hooded, dark, hazy.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles tiredly. \"Hey, love.\"<br \/><br \/>\"That wasn't my surprise,\" Harry says, blinking slightly, as if just remembering. \"Was gonna be more exciting.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I dunno, Haz,\" Louis says. \"That was pretty special.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry brushes his hand over Louis's forehead, pushing his fringe away from his eyes. \"Not gonna let this happen to us again,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and curls his arm around Harry's hip, tucking his head under Harry's chin. \"We're gonna be so good.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Forever, yeah?\" Harry says into a mouthful of Louis' hair. <br \/><br \/>Louis chuckles sleepily. \"You're going to get so sick of me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I doubt that.\" Harry wraps his arms around Louis' back, and Louis smiles into his chest, relaxing into sleep. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Next Monday, Louis pulls the microphone towards his face, smiling to himself. \"Hey, beautiful people,\" he says. \"I've got something a little different from my usual brilliance to start us off tonight. Here's some huge throwback to the early 1970s with Paul McCartney's 'Maybe I'm Amazed.'\"<br \/><br \/>Harry glances up from where he's curled up in the chair next to Louis, working on applications to research labs in London. He grins so bright that Louis blushes, glancing down at his laptop. <br \/><br \/>\"You're ridiculous,\" Harry says through his smile. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs, a soft, fond sound bubbling up from his chest. He kicks out at Harry's knee. \"Just love you.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head, biting his lip. \"The mic better be off for what I'm about to do to you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis makes sure the little red light is off before slipping out of his chair and kneeling in front of Harry. \"No, love, I think it's my turn. Think you can come before the song's over?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry curls his fingers in Louis' hair. \"I do like a challenge.\"<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:12324","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/12324.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=12324"}}],"title":"your translation's just a little off (lt\/ng)","published":"2012-09-30T14:53:13Z","updated":"2012-10-04T23:33:21Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"seriously why"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}}],"content":"<b>title<\/b>: your translation's just a little off.<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: nick grimshaw\/louis tomlinson (sorry)<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~9,500<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. so louis kind of doesn't like nick. like at all. really. he swears.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: okay OKAY DON'T YELL AT ME I'M REALLY SORRY, this is the one and only time this will happen, I'M JUST SO INTERESTED IN THEIR DYNAMIC okay omg i'm sorry. i'll write so much harry\/louis that you'll want to throw me off a CLIFF, okay, cool. anyway. a lot of people are responsible for this, not just me, so! based on a prompt idea by <a href=\"http:\/\/riseofthematriarchy.tumblr.com\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">carla<\/a>, shamelessly encouraged by my girls <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"flimsy\" lj:user=\"flimsy\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/flimsy.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/flimsy.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>flimsy<\/b><\/a><\/span> and <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-deleted  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"miss_mady\" lj:user=\"miss_mady\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/miss-mady.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/miss-mady.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>miss_mady<\/b><\/a><\/span>, and read over by <a href=\"http:\/\/aliferuined.tumblr.com\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">sadie<\/a>. thanks so much, ladiez. <br \/><br \/>going off that, i guess i have <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.tumblr.com\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">tumblr<\/a> now. that's a very louis-positive space, enter with care. <br \/><br \/>sorry again.<br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>It's one of those nights where everything manages to come together perfectly. Harry's on his last encore just as Louis issues last call, there are no drunken arseholes propositioning him (or threatening him, or threateningly propositioning him), Nick's not too drunk to stand, Liam is manning the door and directing the taxies, Zayn's calmly chainsmoking out back, and Niall's ready at the wings of the stage to haul equipment. <br \/><br \/>It's refreshing, Louis thinks, because usually Harry's swayed by adoration into six or seven encores and Louis has to deal with disgruntled arseholes who want more drinks because the music's still going and Nick's a complete mess at the soundboard and egging Harry on and Liam sometimes gets distracted by Zayn and Niall's too busy socialising to actually cut Harry off and in that hour span of disasters, Louis manages to receive an upwards of twenty comments on his arse, spanning the spectrum of complimentary to fucking illegal. <br \/><br \/>But tonight it seems like they might actually have the club emptied by three in the morning and that might be a goddamn record. <br \/><br \/>Nick's looking over at Louis, now, arching an eyebrow, and Louis nods to him. Nick jerks his head at Harry and Harry throws him a wink and drawls into the mic, \"Thanks so much, everyone, I've had a brilliant time up here, as always, and you were fantastic. I'm Harry Styles and behind me on keyboards is Aiden Grimshaw, with Matt Cardle on guitars, and Greg James on drums. We're Upset Victory. Thanks for listening.\"<br \/><br \/>And everyone's yelling as they set their instruments down and Louis raises his eyes to the sky, mouthing a quick prayer that Niall will unplug the amps immediately and he <i>does<\/i> and everything's just coming up aces. <br \/><br \/>Louis is so, so, so, tired. <br \/><br \/>It takes about an hour to clear everyone out and it's okay, it's fine, because no one's belligerent, and there are only three blokes who grab his arse as he rounds the bar and Zayn comes back in to help and. <br \/><br \/>Yes. Three o'clock on the dot, the place is empty, but for their rag-tag little group. Harry comes to the bar and slumps down, resting his cheeks on his fists. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry moans, voice rasping dangerously. \"Whisky.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"Haz, by the sound of it, you'd do better with some tea.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him murderously. \"Whisky.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs and turns around to grab a glass, just as Nick, Zayn, Liam, and Niall sit down. <br \/><br \/>\"Where'd the band disappear to, then?\" Nick asks, glancing around the empty room that looks so much smaller and grottier when there aren't two hundred sweaty patrons pressed together. <br \/><br \/>Harry snorts. \"Aiden and Matt had some <i>stuff<\/i> to do, apparently, and Greg copped off with some bloke in the crowd, I don't know. He was short.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oi,\" Louis interjects mildly. <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles at him and Nick smirks. \"No offense, love,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and sets the whisky in front of Harry, sweeping his eyes over the rest of them. \"Anyone else going to exploit me after my shift? Tell me now before I sit down and die.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam looks at him sympathetically, before glancing at Zayn. <br \/><br \/>Zayn purses his lips to hide the stupid smile Louis knows he wants to let out. \"Actually, I think I'm gonna head home. Uh, Li, do you want a ride?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam smiles down at his hands. \"If you're headed in my direction.\"<br \/><br \/>\"That could be arranged,\" Zayn replies, quirking an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Louis widens his eyes at Harry, blinking exaggeratedly. Harry giggles. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, just go, you two,\" Nick snaps. \"We get it. You're getting laid. Rub it in more, thanks.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam blushes spectacularly and Zayn just smirks. \"Fine. We're out,\" Zayn says, grabbing Liam's arm and they stumble out the back entrance, hips knocking together. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck them,\" Louis mutters under his breath. <br \/><br \/>\"Aw,\" Nick coos. \"Did the poor little pretty boy not find anyone good enough?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis clenches his jaw. <br \/><br \/>The thing is, Nick is the anomaly of their weird little clique. He's thirty \u2013 seven years older than Louis, ten years older than Harry, and nine years older than Liam, Zayn, and Niall. And it's <i>weird<\/i> \u2013 well, at least, <i>Louis<\/i> thinks it's weird \u2013 that he hangs out with them once the shifts are over. Because it's not like Nick doesn't have other friends. Nick is a professional shmoozer, a professional networker. He's a <i>socialiser<\/i> in the exact way Louis is not. <br \/><br \/>So, it doesn't make sense to Louis, because if he were Nick, he wouldn't be hanging out with a group of boys that were essentially <i>kids<\/i> compared to him. He'd need some extra motivation there. And that's why Louis is worried, because he has a vague idea what Nick's motivation might be and it makes his stomach clench involuntarily. <br \/><br \/>And it's <i>dumb<\/i>, because Harry can do whatever he wants. Harry can fuck whomever he pleases and Harry is his own person and Louis has absolutely no claim over him and it's just. Dumb. Louis is being dumb. But Harry's also so <i>young<\/i> and <i>trusting<\/i> and blindly unaware to the cynicism of thirty year old men and Louis just. <br \/><br \/>Louis just <i>worries<\/i>, because if Harry sleeps with Nick, if Harry falls in love with Nick, and Nick hurts him, Louis will probably have to go to jail for murder. <br \/><br \/>And, like, Louis wouldn't do well in jail. Louis can barely make it through a shift at the club unscathed. <br \/><br \/>The point is, Louis is wary of Nick and Nick seems vaguely unimpressed by Louis as a whole anyway so they orbit each other carefully, stuck in a cold war. A tentative detante. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks, and everyone's staring at him, because apparently he just spaced the fuck out, staring at Nick, and grinding his jaw together. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" he says, dumbly. \"No, actually. I prefer not to sleep with blokes that think it's acceptable to drunkenly grope their bartenders, shockingly enough.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall snorts. \"Sounds fair enough. Can I get a pint off you, mate?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods and starts pulling it, focusing intently on the glass because he can feel Nick's eyes on him and whenever Nick starts looking too closely, Louis' skin feels tight and. <br \/><br \/>There's just something about Nick that puts Louis on edge. <br \/><br \/>He slides the pint over to Niall and arches an eyebrow back at Nick. \"And anything for you, highness?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick considers him for a moment. \"Would a G and T be out of the question?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs, pulling down two glasses, rapidly mixing the two drinks. He hands one off to Nick and says, \"Budge over,\" to Harry, squeezing his way in between the two of them. <br \/><br \/>He gives Nick a vaguely triumphant look, but Nick isn't looking at him anymore. He's turned, talking to Niall rapidly about carpooling to Rita's party next Thursday.<br \/><br \/>Harry says quietly, \"Everything alright, mate?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis could probably make some pretty embarrassing sex noises about how good it feels to sit down, to rest his feet, to relax on this uncomfortable bar stool, but he just shrugs and says, \"Always,\" with a small smile, just for Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry just looks at him skeptically. \"Really?\" he says, dropping the volume of his voice even more.<br \/><br \/>Louis leans over and rests his head on Harry's shoulder. \"I'm so tired,\" he breathes. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says into his hair, voice soft. \"Yeah, I know. Shall we go home?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes for a moment, then straightens up, shaking himself, glueing on a bright smile. \"No. No, I'm fine. Whatever you want to do.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick looks back at them, then. He eyes Louis. \"You look knackered, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs, taking a long pull of his drink. \"Really?\" he says. \"I feel fine.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry says, \"Come on, Lou. Let's go home. I need some sleep.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Louis says. \"If you're sure.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Nick's still watching them. \"I'll drive you home,\" he offers. <br \/><br \/>\"That'd be\u2013\" Harry starts, but Louis cuts him off.<br \/><br \/>\"I've got it, thanks,\" Louis says, smiling tightly. He waves his half-full glass. \"First one of the night.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick glances from the glass to Louis' face. \"You look dead on your feet, love,\" he says. \"I'll drive you guys home.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grips Louis' shoulder as Louis opens his mouth to refuse again. \"That'd be great, Nick, thanks,\" he says pointedly, fingers digging into Louis' collarbones. <br \/><br \/>Louis clenches his jaw. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry invites Nick inside when they pull up to their flat, because of course he does. <br \/><br \/>\"Beer?\" he offers. <br \/><br \/>Nick glances at Louis, who's standing in the doorway of the kitchen, fidgeting. He wants to go to bed but he doesn't want to leave Harry alone with Nick, or Nick alone with Harry, and he hates himself for it, because Harry's an adult and why can't Louis remember that?<br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Nick says. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs internally. \"Me too, Haz.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks surprised. \"Really? Are you sure you don't want to go to bed?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis forces a smile. \"I'm sure.\"<br \/><br \/>They file into the living room and Harry takes the opportunity to show Nick the sound system he'd spend an entire weekend hooking up and \u2013 Louis notices \u2013 completely fails to mention the fact that it was actually <i>Louis<\/i> who did most of the work. <br \/><br \/>\"This is pretty fuckin' brilliant,\" Nick says, nodding. \"Play something for me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry beams and grabs his iPod. \"Let's see. Any suggestions, Lou?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis tilts his head back on the couch, studying them both with half open eyes. \"How about some Wagner?\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes and Nick just blinks, letting his gaze float over Louis as if he were nothing more than an inconvenience. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a long, slow pull of his beer. \"But anyway, I'm sure Nick would rather hear something nice and sensual, wouldn't you, big guy?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Nick says, curling his lip. \"Yeah, Harold, play me some Boyz II Men.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes again. \"You two, I swear to god.\" He puts on Fleet Foxes and Louis groans, because, like, <i>boring<\/i>, but Nick grins. <br \/><br \/>\"Did you know, young Harold, that when you were just a wee one, I saw Fleet Foxes at one of the tiny stages at Leeds and they were fucking horrid. Look where they are now! That'll be you in a few years, once you leave the horrid phase.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry swats at him. \"You evil man!\" he gasps. <br \/><br \/>Nick chuckles, catching his hand before it hits him. \"It's tough love, babe. Tough love.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry pulls them both onto the couch beside Louis and Nick crashes down, long legs tangling with Harry's, and like. <br \/><br \/>Yep. That's Louis' cue to leave. <br \/><br \/>\"Well, lads \u2013 or, I guess, lad and man \u2013 I'm going to turn in, I think,\" he says, sitting up a little. His head feels like it weighs about sixteen stone. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Harry whines, wrapping his arms around Louis' waist. \"No, cuddle. Cuddles now.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Cuddle with Nick,\" he says, trying oh-so-hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Harry moans. \"Nick's not soft like you are.\"<br \/><br \/>From beside Harry, Louis hears Nick snort. \"I wouldn't stand for that, if I were you, Lou,\" Nick says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shut up, you know what I mean,\" Harry says. \"Nick's all bony and sharp and you're all soft and warm and cuddly.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis scoffs. \"You're saying words, but all I'm hearing is fat fat fat fat.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Aw, come cuddle, Lou,\" Nick says mockingly. \"We don't care that you're fat.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry elbows him hard in the stomach, and <i>yeah<\/i>, Louis thinks. Harry can say what he wants, but he's the only one. <br \/><br \/>\"Thanks,\" Louis says, all ice, \"but I'm going to pass.\"<br \/><br \/>He drops his bottle in the sink and trudges towards his room, not getting there in time to miss Nick's whispered, \"I was just kidding,\" and Harry's reply, \"Well, don't.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Nick's gone when Louis wakes up. Harry's curled up on the couch with a blanket over him. Louis lays down next to him, pressed between Harry and the back of the couch, and wraps his arms around him. <br \/><br \/>Harry shifts, rolls over. \"Hey,\" he rasps. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles. \"Hey.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry blinks a bit, scrunching his face up. \"Oh,\" he says. \"Oh, Lou, Nick was just kidding, you know? Just being a bit cheeky.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says. \"I don't care. Did you guys do anything?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Nah, he finished his beer and left. I dunno. I think he felt really bad,\" Harry says, widening his eyes at Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, stop it with those,\" Louis says, blowing gently into Harry's face so he has to squeeze his eyes shut. \"I don't care. There's just a difference between what you can say and what, like, anyone else can say, you know? Especially people who don't even like me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What!\" Harry exclaims. \"He likes you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Sure.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sure he does,\" Harry says confidently. \"He hangs out with us, doesn't he?\"<br \/><br \/>\"He hangs out with <i>you<\/i>, Haz,\" Louis replies, rolling his eyes. \"Just... be careful there, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's brow furrows. \"What do you mean?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"You know.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry blinks a bit and then his mouth drops open. \"Oh my god. No, Louis, seriously, come on.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says, shaking his head. \"Just be careful.\" He pulls himself away from Harry then, sliding off the couch and padding into the kitchen. Harry follows closely. <br \/><br \/>\"I promise it's not like that, Lou,\" Harry pleads. <br \/><br \/>Louis puts the kettle on and glances back at Harry. \"I don't <i>care<\/i>, mate, seriously. I just don't want you to get hurt!\"<br \/><br \/>Harry brushes past him to get to the fridge, pulling out eggs and peppers and onions and potatoes. Louis grins. He loves Harry's fry-ups. <br \/><br \/>Harry says, \"I'm going to forget this conversation happened, because Nick doesn't fancy me and I don't fancy Nick. Got it?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just shakes his head and pours two cups of tea, sliding one over to Harry. Harry nods his thanks, keeping his gaze on Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"Is that why you were being weird last night?\" Harry asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis huffs a breath. \"I wasn't being weird last night.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You were, though.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I was just tired. Make me food, slave.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry throws him an unimpressed look and shakes his head. \"Nick and I aren't going to fuck.\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Fine<\/i>, jesus, sorry I mentioned it,\" Louis snaps. \"Let's move on.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis' mobile buzzes, then, on the coffee table in the living room. Louis groans and Harry rolls his eyes, but stops chopping vegetables and goes and gets it.<br \/><br \/>\"I love you so much, Harry Styles,\" Louis calls after him. <br \/><br \/>Harry comes back wearing an evil smirk. \"Yes,\" is all he says, and tosses Louis the phone. <br \/><br \/>There's a text open and Louis says, \"Your mum really never taught you privacy, did she,\" as he glances down at it. <br \/><br \/>It's from Nick. <br \/><br \/><i>hey louis i just wanted to say i'm really sorry about last night? i never meant anything, just banter. sorry again x<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"You read this?\" he asks Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"Yeah. Sweet, innit? Told you he likes you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just wrinkles his nose. \"Whatever.\" He sets his phone down. <br \/><br \/>\"What are you gonna say back?\" Harry presses. <br \/><br \/>\"Er,\" Louis says. \"I dunno? Nothing?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You can't just say <i>nothing<\/i>, Lou! Rude.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fine.\" Louis grabs his phone again. \"What should I say then, o great all-knowing one?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks exasperated. \"Just say it's not a big deal!\"<br \/><br \/><i>its cool mate<\/i> is what Louis ends up typing. He holds it out to Harry. \"Good enough?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry pulls a face. \"You could be friendlier. Why aren't you friendlier to him?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm perfectly friendly!\" Louis protests<br \/><br \/>Harry levels him a look. \"You're borderline polite,\" he says. \"At best.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fine!\" Louis says. \"Fine.\" <br \/><br \/><i>its cool mate i was just really tired no worries x<\/i><br \/><br \/>He holds his phone out again. \"Better?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods, a small smile pulling at his cheeks, and gets back to fixing breakfast. <br \/><br \/>\"You're weird,\" Louis says, watching him. <br \/><br \/>\"You're crazy,\" Harry shoots back. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis sighs. <br \/><br \/>Harry slides a plate in front of him, fried up just the way Louis likes, because Harry is fantastic. <br \/><br \/>Louis sometimes really regrets they never fell in love with each other, because the thought of ever living apart from Harry scares the fuck out of him. The thought of not having Harry read his every mood and his every affectation is genuinely terrifying. <br \/><br \/>Which, speaking of:<br \/><br \/>\"Are you alright, mate? Like, really?\" Harry says, through a mouthful of potato. <br \/><br \/>\"Of course!\" Louis says, smiling at him. \"What do you mean?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You've just...\" Harry trails off, motioning wildly with his hands, as that was an acceptable answer. \"Seemed off, lately, I guess,\" he finishes. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles kind of wryly. \"Just a bit tired, H, really.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Harry looks at him skeptically. \"Well. I mean. If you ever... you know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says quietly. \"I know.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Work is quieter that night. It's a Sunday and Sundays generally end earlier than any other night, and Louis sends a silent thank you to the working week. Zayn has the night off, so Louis is working the bar alone, and Harry doesn't play Sundays, so Nick is blasting his shitty pseudo-ironic pop (Louis would bet a million quid that Nick secretly loves it) and a few people are dancing, but more are huddled around the bar, talking quietly, looking for a shag. <br \/><br \/>Louis could do with a shag himself, honestly. He scans the line of faces at the bar, looking for something promising. <br \/><br \/>All he's met with is a various assortment of leers. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. It gets hard, sometimes, watching people cop off. It gets hard, sometimes, knowing that he's fueling these people's chances of getting laid. It gets hard, sometimes, when he's not had any sort of connection with anyone in months. <br \/><br \/>And, like, it gets hard <i>literally<\/i>, too, because he's twenty-three and how the fuck is he this celibate? He doesn't have, like, <i>leprosy<\/i> or anything. <br \/><br \/>Maybe he has leprosy of the personality, he thinks. Maybe that's what it is. <br \/><br \/>After the crowd thins out even more and Louis issues a quiet last call, Nick puts on a folky playlist and wanders over to the bar, pulling up a chair. <br \/><br \/>Louis raises an eyebrow in his direction, running a grimy rag over the mahogany. \"Get you anything?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Nick shrugs a bit. \"G and T?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods shortly and Nick takes a deep breath. <br \/><br \/>\"So, again, I just wa\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Louis holds up a hand, effectively cutting him off. \"Seriously, mate. I was being too sensitive.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick shakes his head. \"Anyway,\" he says, \"how was tonight?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I'm just a bit wiped. Watching people finding other people to shag really drains me.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick chuckles. \"I feel you there, love.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis eyes him. \"You haven't got a bit on the side, then?\"<br \/><br \/>\"On the side of <i>what<\/i>, exactly?\" Nick asks incredulously. \"My trousers are as barren as the desert. It's a national tragedy, to be honest.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts a laugh. \"Yeah. I think I've got leprosy.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick pauses, with the glass in his hand, halfway to his lips. \"Excuse me?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Louis nods. \"Yeah, like, invisible leprosy? You can't see it, but you can tell? Or something.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick blinks a few times, still holding his glass like a dumbshit. \"You... think you have... invisible leprosy...?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Leprosy of the soul,\" Louis supplies. \"Yeah, that. That sounds good. That'll be the title of my memoir.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick's just staring at him now, and he mouths <i>leprosy of the soul<\/i> silently, shaking his head. \"You, my dear, are fucking batshit.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well, what else could it be?\" Louis exclaims. \"I'm twenty three, I've never really thought I was <i>terrible<\/i> to look at, I'm clean, I have a stable job. What's the problem?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Nick hums thoughtfully. \"Maybe it's the six fucking inches of bulletproof glass around you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis arches an eyebrow. \"Excuse me?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick sighs. \"You're not exactly approachable.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well, no one's trying hard enough,\" Louis says, affronted. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Nick says, looking down into his glass and swirling the ice around. \"Maybe not.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis narrows his eyes, feeling a weird shift in the conversation. \"Or I'm too <i>fat<\/i>,\" he says pointedly. <br \/><br \/>Nick's head jerks up again, mouth opening to protest, until he sees Louis' wink. \"You're awful,\" he says instead. <br \/><br \/>\"And you're miserable,\" Louis says back. <br \/><br \/>Nick raises his glass in a mock toast. \"Pour yourself one, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glances around the almost empty room, noticing Liam ushering the stragglers out the door and into the taxis lined up outside. <br \/><br \/>\"Why the hell not,\" he mutters and makes himself a vodka tonic. <br \/><br \/>Nick smirks. \"Not a gin night?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I turn into a lonely forty year old woman with gin,\" Louis says, taking a long drink. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, and vodka's the cure for that?\" Nick asks. \"Because I'm pretty sure you just said you had leprosy of the soul, totally sober.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, \"and you said nothing to make me feel better.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick laughs. \"Oh, what, you want some ego stroking? Fine. Louis Tomlinson, you are the most gorgeous piece of ass I've ever seen and the things I'd do to you are absolutely filthy.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ego stroking,\" Louis snorts. \"Whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick rolls his eyes. \"You're insufferable.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says again, downing the rest of his drink and pouring another. Nick watches him warily. <br \/><br \/>\"Might wanna slow down there, darling,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles. \"Want another?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Nick sighs. \"Fuck it.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis is starting to feel warm and loose. He grins at Nick again, sliding the glass back across to him. \"If you hurt Harry, I'll kill you,\" he says through his million-dollar smile. <br \/><br \/>Nick pauses with his glass in midair again. \"What?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs.<br \/><br \/>Nick unfreezes, takes a long drink. He swallows slowly, setting his glass down all careful-like. \"You think,\" he says, \"that I'm after Harry?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs again, taking another long drink and staring at the wall behind Nick's head. <br \/><br \/>Nick's quiet for a moment, before bursting into loud laughter. \"Oh, honey, no.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis scowls. \"I'm not <i>stupid<\/i>, Grimshaw. I know what old men like you do with little boys like him.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick's laughter cuts off shortly and he stares at Louis, shocked, before his face crumples into laughter once more. \"Oh my <i>god<\/i>, Tomlinson,\" he shrieks.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shut the fuck up,\" Louis says. \"Just don't you dare fuck with him.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick shakes his head, eyes crinkled into a fond smile. \"You are something else, babe.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm a prize,\" Louis says haughtily. <br \/><br \/>Nick's still chuckling, staring down into his drink. \"You are unbelievable.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't want to let this go without a real answer. \"If you're not after him, why the <i>fuck<\/i> do you hang around with us?\"<br \/><br \/>Taking another drink and avoiding Louis' eyes, Nick shrugs. \"You guys are fun? I didn't know I needed to justify being friends with you? Would you rather I stopped? I just <i>might<\/i> be able to fill my time after the obligatory <i>Louis doesn't like me<\/i> mourning period.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis narrows his eyes. \"You're honestly not trying to fuck him? Why not?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick widens his eyes back. \"Seriously? A minute ago you were about to kill me because you thought I <i>was<\/i>!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry's lovely!\" Louis says, offended. \"Everyone wants him. Why wouldn't you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Louis<\/i>,\" Nick says, exasperated.<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"Nope. Walk me through it, cowboy, or no more drinks for you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Jesus,\" Nick sighs. \"I don't know. He <i>is<\/i> lovely. And kind, and funny, and cheeky, and gorgeous. But I just... don't? I don't know. He's a brilliant mate. And, fuck off, if you want him so much, why aren't you together?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis cringes. \"Because,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Because...?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"In twenty years, if we're both single, maybe. But he's just... I don't know. I don't want to do that to him.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Do <i>what<\/i> to him, exactly?\" Nick asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis almost smiles. \"Me.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry's asleep when Louis gets home. Louis opens his bedroom door quietly and slips across the room, pulling the covers back and sliding in next to Harry. Harry shudders in a deep breath and rolls over, throwing an arm around Louis' waist. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and curls into it, pretending for a moment it's something real.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis wakes up to his mobile buzzing on the mattress next to his head. He glances over to Harry to see if he's awake, and stares right into a bright smile. <br \/><br \/>\"Was I the luckiest boy alive last night and don't even remember it?\" Harry asks, delighted, teasing. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and grins back. He opens the text and it's from Nick. Of course it is, because this is Louis' life. He braces himself for something embarrassing.<br \/><br \/><i>if the leprosy isnt catching, want to do brekkie ?x<\/i><br \/><br \/>\"Who's it from?\" Harry says, watching Louis' expression change. <br \/><br \/>\"Nobody,\" Louis mumbles, shoving the phone under the pillow. <br \/><br \/>Harry waits just a moment to lull him into a false sense of security before snatching it. \"Oh my god, Lou,\" he says. \"Oh my god, are you and Grimmy fucking?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Christ, Harry, <i>no<\/i>,\" Louis spits out. \"He probably just wants to make fun of me for whatever I said last night.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Uh huh,\" Harry says. \"And what'd you say last night?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blushes. \"I maybe said some things I shouldn't have.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh no. Lou. No. You didn't,\" Harry groans, and shoves his face in the pillow. <br \/><br \/>\"Whatever!\" Louis says. \"You should be honoured I'm protecting your virtue from the big scary old man.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry just shakes his head and types something into Louis' phone so quickly that Louis can't gather the mentality to grab it back. <br \/><br \/>\"There,\" Harry says, smiling. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck off,\" Louis grumbles, grabbing the phone and reading what Harry sent. <br \/><br \/><i>sounds lovely babe as long as you pick me up :) x<\/i><br \/><br \/>\"Oh my <i>god<\/i>, Harry, you absolute wanker.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins just as the phone buzzes. <br \/><br \/><i>.........yeah ok harold youre not invited<\/i><br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Nick does pick Louis up, as it turns out, and they walk down the high street rather awkwardly. <br \/><br \/>\"We've never hung out alone outside of work, you do realise,\" Louis says after a few moments of silence. <br \/><br \/>Nick smirks. \"Well, we're mates now, so.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Are we?\" Louis asks. \"How do you figure that?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You got drunk and told me your problem with me, I cleared up the whole situation, and now there's no reason why not,\" Nick recites smoothly. <br \/><br \/>Louis is silent for a moment. \"I still don't understand why a thirty year old man is hanging out with a bunch of twenty year olds.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick grins wickedly. \"You're cute, babe, but you're not twenty anymore.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis elbows him sharply in the side. \"Arsehole. Closer to twenty than you'll ever be again.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick just laughs. \"Let's get croissants.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Posh,\" Louis says, pulling a face. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Delicious<\/i>,\" Nick corrects as he guides Louis into a bakery. <br \/><br \/>They sit close to the window and Nick expertly tears off a piece of his croissant and dips it in his hot chocolate. Louis watches, disgusted. <br \/><br \/>\"This isn't breakfast,\" he says. \"This is a coma.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick rolls his eyes. \"What do they eat where you're from, then? Gravel and cinnamon?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You can't get through the day on bread that's more air than anything!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Nick says patiently, \"you don't work until eight o'clock in the evening. I guarantee you'll be able to hold onto your stamina until lunchtime. Have a damn croissant.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You know nothing about my stamina, Grimshaw,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Nick winks. \"Just say the word, love,\" he drawls. <br \/><br \/>\"So, really. Why are we here?\" Louis asks. <br \/><br \/>Nick narrows his eyes. \"Because we are <i>friends<\/i>. Dammit, Tomlinson, are we going to have to get matching teeshirts or something?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis considers this. \"Only if I choose them. Your fashion sense is frankly appalling.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're in public with me,\" Nick says. \"Are you embarrassed?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Dreadfully,\" Louis responds. \"Literally if anyone I know sees us, I'm ducking under the table.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick slides a wounded expression onto his face. \"I'm going to have to blog about how the cute boy in my english class won't talk to me in public,\" he says, punctuated with a heaving sigh. <br \/><br \/>Louis just shakes his head and takes a tentative bite of the fucking croissant. He chews slowly, before swallowing and looking at Nick suspiciously. \"You're not going to take me to a fucking art museum or summat, are you?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick grins winningly. \"As a matter of fact, my mate's got a show opening today and it's just around the corner.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glares at him. \"We are <i>not<\/i> friends.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The gallery is a large white room with massive pillars in hugely inconvenient places. The paintings on the wall are graphic, colourful, and life-sized depictions of men in various stages of undress, and, as they walk further through, various stages of arousal and fornication. <br \/><br \/>Louis shoots Nick an evil look. \"You took me to a porn show,\" he accuses. <br \/><br \/>Nick's eyes are wide as he takes in the scene. \"I honestly had no idea, I'm not fucking with you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Bullshit,\" Louis says, staring at a startlingly lifelike oil painting of a man, bent in half, with the head of his own dick touching his lips. \"That's not even possible, is it?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick tilts his head, considering. \"I mean, I guess it'd depend on flexibility and, you know, size,\" he says thoughtfully. \"Have you ever tried?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flushes. \"I\u2013oh, fuck off. Who <i>hasn't<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>The corners of Nick's mouth tighten as he tries not to smile. He arches an eyebrow down at Louis. \"No success, then?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis turns away, walking to the next painting. \"Can't be that awesome doing it to yourself, though, can it? I mean, you have to do all of the work, deal with the mess, and be stuck in a supremely uncomfortable position, right? And,\" he says, turning back to Nick, \"at your age, that could do some lasting damage to your back, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick ignores that, moving to stand beside Louis again, their shoulders and arms brushing lightly. \"One could argue the same for giving someone else head, too, though, right? Are you saying you don't do that, princess?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grins wickedly. \"Wouldn't you like to know?\" he says, glancing up at Nick through his eyelashes. <br \/><br \/>Nick stares at the painting in front of them with dark eyes. It's depicting a very interesting angle of a rimjob, and Louis blinks a bit before looking down at the floor. A couple comes up next to them, talking quietly to each other, and Nick leans down, grazing his hand across Louis' lower back and whispering in his ear, \"How many people here do you think are taking notes?\" he asks lowly. <br \/><br \/>Louis fights back a shudder and something tight, hot, and unpleasant twists in his stomach. \"Are <i>you<\/i>?\" he shoots back, raising an eyebrow challengingly. <br \/><br \/>Nick makes a small noise in his throat. \"I really wasn't expecting this,\" he says. \"Completely forgot my bloody notebook.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Pity, that,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>\"Grimmy!\" <br \/><br \/>Nick and Louis turn around, seeing a tall, slight, <i>pretty<\/i> man walking toward them, bouncing excitedly, almost gracefully. \"Grimmy, you son of a bitch, you didn't tell me you were coming!\" he exclaims, as his eyes travel from Nick to Louis. He brightens even more. \"And look what you've brought me!\" he purrs.<br \/><br \/>Nick's hand tenses, still on the small of Louis' back. Louis steps away from Nick slightly, nodding to the man. \"Louis,\" he says, holding out his hand. <br \/><br \/>The man grins delightedly. \"Alex,\" he says, shaking Louis' hand and winking, before looking back to Nick. \"Grimmy, what a <i>delicious<\/i> opening gift, I'm <i>so<\/i> honoured. If you see anything that inspires you, Louis, please just say the word.\" He winks lewdly.<br \/><br \/>Louis fixes his polite smile with some effort, but Nick's lips thin coldly. \"Actually, we were just heading out. Sorry, mate,\" he says, and his hand finds the small of Louis' back again, pressing his shirt against his skin firmly, guiding him towards the door. <br \/><br \/>\"Good show,\" Nick calls over his shoulder and Louis nods shortly. Alex watches them leave, eyes narrowed. <br \/><br \/>Once they're outside of the gallery, Nick drops his hand and turns to face Louis, running a hand through his floppy quiff. \"God,\" he says, \"Sorry about that.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"S'fine.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick squints at him, saying, \"I can see what you're thinking.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Louis says, smirking. \"What am I thinking, then?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're thinking about how you're used to it and how it'd be weirder if that didn't happen every time you stepped out of your fucking flat,\" Nick says. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins, shrugging again. \"You said it, not me.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick shakes his head. \"You make me look bad just standing there, kiddo,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Actually,\" Louis says, \"I probably make you look awesome. I'm just saying.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Because your beauty far surpasses mine and random observers should be high-fiving me as we walk down the street?\" Nick says dryly, arching an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Louis chuckles. \"Don't take it too hard. I'm sure they're also thinking you're very rich, so.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick blinks, and then says, \"You are actually a devil child, Tomlinson.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says, laughing a little. \"I need to get back, but I guess this was fun?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You guess,\" Nick repeats flatly. \"Cheers.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grins and elbows Nick in the ribs. \"Come on, Prince Charming. Drive me home. Harry'll be there, probably.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick nods a little, cutting a sharp look at Louis. \"Maybe I <i>should<\/i> be trying to sleep with Harry,\" he says. \"At least Harry is nice to me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry's nice to everyone,\" Louis replies loftily. <br \/><br \/>\"And you're not?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis raises an eyebrow and Nick snorts. \"Fair play,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Nick leaves their flat two hours before they're all due at work and as soon as the door closes behind him, Harry turns straight to Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"You're so full of shit, Lou,\" Harry says, smiling with his eyes. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks at him. \"Excuse me?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You were not <i>protecting me<\/i>,\" Harry answers, laughing. \"You were <i>jealous<\/i>! I cannot believe I missed that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I... Excuse me?\" Louis says again. <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head. \"You want Grimmy to hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear and take you home to his mum and give you back rubs and propose marriage and pop out babies.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. \"Excuse me?\" he says, one more time. <br \/><br \/>Harry's smile fades slightly and he peers curiously into Louis' face. \"Don't you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"No!\" Louis exclaims. \"That's ridiculous. We don't even <i>get along<\/i>, Haz.\"<br \/><br \/>Brow furrowing, Harry says, \"It certainly looked like you get along, Lou. I was bloody third-wheeling with my two best mates.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at Harry. \"All three of us were playing FIFA, Harry. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to third wheel there.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You honestly don't like him?\" Harry asks, frowning a little. <br \/><br \/>\"Er. No?\" Louis says. \"I mean, to be fair, it's never crossed my mind, but that's pretty telling, so.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" is all Harry says for a moment. Then, \"I'm not usually wrong about you, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just shrugs. \"Sorry?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry just looks at him. He says quietly, \"It wouldn't be bad if you did, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks down at the ground, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. \"Whatever,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The night is decidedly <i>not<\/i> going well. Before Harry's set, a group of uni girls bought him shot after shot and he downed them, licking his stupid lips and smiling his stupid smile and basically getting them to drop trou right at the bar and Louis couldn't say <i>no<\/i>, really, because money is money but he was getting furious so Zayn took over and now Niall is nowhere to be found and Louis thinks it's because one of the girls that Harry was playing with had spotted him and now they were playing PacMan or whatever the fuck Niall does with birds and Liam keeps drifting towards the bar, towards Zayn, heedless of the countless underage kids coming through the door and Louis is fucking overwhelmed. <br \/><br \/>Nick, though. Nick's sober. Which, like, whenever a night even has a slight bad turn, Nick's first move is to get trashed and let someone else deal with the fallout and the subsequent clean-up. And that someone is always Louis. <br \/><br \/>But tonight, Nick's sober and glancing over at the bar worriedly because Harry's at the end of his regular set and there's no sign at all that he's stopping and it's closing in on two in the morning and Niall's not there to cut him off and if Harry will ignore Nick if he tries anything and Louis' head is killing him and <i>fuck<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>He presses the heels of his hands to his eye sockets. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright, love?\" drawls a voice from across the bar. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks up into the leering face of a forty year old man, whose eyes are running over his chest and hips and thighs, then back up to his lips. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes a deep breath and avoids his gaze. \"What can I get you,\" he says flatly. <br \/><br \/>The man smirks. \"How much for a blowjob?\"<br \/><br \/>A muscle in Louis' cheek jumps. \"You've got three seconds to order a drink, mate,\" he says, letting his eyes scan the room as if bored. <br \/><br \/>\"Ooh, feisty,\" says the creep. \"I like that. Are you a screamer? Do you scratch? Bite back?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis has no idea what his expression looks like, but it must not be pleasant, because suddenly Nick is there, grabbing the guy's shoulder. \"Mate, you need to leave,\" Nick says, all authority. <br \/><br \/>The guy snorts, looking Nick up and down. \"Yeah, in a minute,\" he slurs. \"Gonna get this piece to come with me.\" He gestures to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis balls his hands behind the bar, fingernails cutting into his palms. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Nick says, voice forcibly calm. \"You're not.\"<br \/><br \/>The guy steps up into Nick's face. \"And who the fuck are you? Is he yours?\"<br \/><br \/>And, see, Louis is usually better at standing up for himself. Louis is the fucking champion of standing up for himself. But tonight all the fight drains out of him and he just looks at Nick, and Nick looks back at him for a brief moment before turning back to this fucking arsehole, who's now prodding his finger into Nick's chest. <br \/><br \/>\"He good in bed?\" the guy's saying. \"He a screamer? He looks like he can take it hard, can't you, babe?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis just looks at Nick, saying nothing. <br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Nick says, and punches the guy in the face. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, fuck,\" Louis says, into the moment of silence that always begins chaos. <br \/><br \/>And then the guy buries his own fist into Nick's stomach, and Nick doubles over, gasping, and Liam's there \u2013 thank fuck for Liam \u2013\u00a0and restraining the guy as his nose pours blood. Everyone's yelling, swarming around, trying to get closer to the action, and Harry's finally lost his audience, so he jumps off stage, heading over to see what's happened. <br \/><br \/>Liam looks at Louis. \"What the fuck happened?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis opens his mouth and widens his eyes and just shakes his head briefly. \"I... he was being rude?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Liam looks at him hard for a moment, and then nods, seeming to understand. \"Alright, mate, you're out of here,\" he says to the guy, holding his arms behind his back by his wrists, as if Liam were a goddamn cop. <br \/><br \/>The crowd is dispersing a little, the fight having brought everyone back to reality. The obviously underage kids scarper off, clearly afraid of police being called, while everyone else backs away, realising the music's over and the bartender's shaken and perhaps it's closing time. <br \/><br \/>Louis rounds the bar and comes to stand next to Nick, who's slumped onto a stool, leaning against the counter. \"Fuck,\" Nick says. \"That's what I get for defending your goddamn virtue, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles weakly. \"You shouldn't have done that, you fucking idiot.\" <br \/><br \/>Nick just shrugs. \"I mean. People can't talk about you like that, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry comes up to them, then. \"Fuck, mate, what the hell happened?\" he asks Nick. \"I just had to wrestle that guy into a taxi with Liam and he was screaming about lawsuits and shit. What did you <i>do<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick grins, delighted. \"Harry Styles! You think I provoked a man twice my girth into a fight?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Harry says, blinking, obviously considering this. \"I mean, no, but he did say you threw the first punch.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah, well.\" Nick nods sagely. \"We can't have our Tommo harassed in the workplace, can we?\" He throws his arm around Louis's neck, bringing his hand up to pinch Louis' cheek. <br \/><br \/>Louis squirms away. \"Fuck off. I can take it.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's face immediately darkens. \"What'd he say to you, Lou?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just shakes his head. \"It's fine. It's over. This knight in shining armour took care of it, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry doesn't look convinced, but he nods, keeping his eyes on Louis. \"Well,\" he says, \"I need a drink, lads, what about you?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick says, \"God, yes.\"<br \/><br \/>Sighing, Louis starts to round the bar again, saying, \"Orders?\" but Nick grabs his arm. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Nick says, \"your shift is over.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I don't mind.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Harry says. \"Nick's right. Let's go to ours, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Brilliant!\" Nick says, clapping his hands together. \"I'll get us a cab.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hesitates. \"Wait, though. Who's gonna take care of closing up everything here?\" <br \/><br \/>Nick and Harry turn back to look at him. \"Louis,\" Harry says patiently. \"Let someone else do things for you, for once.\" <br \/><br \/>Nick eyes Louis curiously after Harry says that, but nods his agreement. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"Alright, alright. Let's go.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>An hour and a half later, Louis is spectacularly drunk. <br \/><br \/>Like, phenomenally drunk. <br \/><br \/>\"Three fuckin' sheets to the wind!\" he crows, throwing his arms above his head. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him from the floor, where he's inexplicably playing dead like a goddamn possum, limbs held straight into the air. <br \/><br \/>Nick just looks at both of them, amused, from his spot lounged across the couch, toes nudging against Louis' thigh. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry says, slowly. \"Hey, guys, I just had the best idea <i>ever<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ooh!\" Louis yells. \"Harry idea! Harry idea Harry idea Harry idea!\" He turns to Nick and whispers conspiratorially, \"Harry always has the best ideas.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick arches an eyebrow lazily, his eyes half-lidded and dark, his lips bitten red, swollen. Louis glances away, taking another drink. <br \/><br \/>\"I think,\" Harry says, \"we should play truth or dare!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Truth or dare!\" Louis yells, throwing his hands in the air again. <br \/><br \/>\"With three people?\" Nick asks. \"How's that work?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry stares blearily at Nick. \"Are you new? I go like, hey, Grimmy, truth or dare? And then you choose one, and\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"No, fuckhead,\" Nick says. \"I know how fucking truth or dare works. I was twelve once, too\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"But your memories must be getting hazy by now,\" he interrupts.<br \/><br \/>\"\u2013but I mean, how is it going to be fun with only three people?\" Nick finishes, throwing Louis a dark glare. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles serenely. <br \/><br \/>\"No, no! It'll be fun. I promise,\" Harry says. \"I'll go first. Lou, truth or dare.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Dare,\" Louis says, smirking. <br \/><br \/>Harry makes a considering sound, glancing from Louis' face to his half-full drink. \"Okay. Chug your drink.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs, does so. \"Okay. So. Hazza, truth or dare?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis feels warm, light, loose, and his thoughts are jangling around dangerously. Nick's toes are stroking against his thigh and he reaches down a hand to still them, but his hand ends up staying there, just resting. <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles. \"Truth.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Boys or girls, Harry? Answer honestly now.\" Louis smiles right back. <br \/><br \/>Nick laughs. \"Whippin' out the big guns, I see.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry tilts his head to the side, his eyes going distant and thoughtful. \"That's a tough one,\" he says. \"Why do I have to choose?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"You don't have to choose, like, only to fuck one or the other for the rest of your life. I'm just wondering, like, which you prefer.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry hums to himself for a few seconds, swaying back and forth. \"Girls, maybe? But also boys? But girls. I think. But, wait.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick snorts. \"Don't hurt yourself, love.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Harry says. \"Grimmy. Truth or dare.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Dare,\" Nick sighs. \"I cannot believe we're doing this. You're such children.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis coughs into his hands, and it sounds suspiciously like <i>paedophile<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes turn wicked in a millisecond. \"Right. Nick, snog Louis. Thirty seconds, open mouths, real snogging.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis' head snaps up and his cheeks flush even <i>more<\/i>. He stares at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Nick's gone pale. He says, \"What?\" and his voice breaks. <br \/><br \/>Louis chances a glance over at him and Nick quickly meets his eyes before turning back to Harry. \"What?\" he says again. <br \/><br \/>\"I dared it, and so it is law!\" Harry cries. <br \/><br \/>Swirling his drink in his hand, Nick stares down, before taking a long pull, draining the glass. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright, sailor,\" he says, licking his lips and raising his head to Louis. \"Come on over here.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hesitates, because Nick's sprawled out across the couch lengthwise, and the only way to get in a comfortable snogging position \u2013 Louis can't believe this is his life \u2013 would be to actually crawl up his body and straddle his hips.<br \/><br \/>But Nick doesn't seem like he's about to move so Louis shrugs and sets his glass on the table and crawls up his body to straddle his hips. <br \/><br \/>Nick makes a choked off sound, as if he wasn't expecting Louis to rise to the bait, but Louis smirks down at him, raising an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>\"Well? Lay it on me, old man,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Nick narrows his eyes and pulls Louis down by the nape of his neck, long spider-fingers brushing through the soft hair there. He pauses, barely a breath away from pressing their lips together, and meets Louis' eyes. Louis stares back, before rolling them and crashing his mouth down on Nick's. <br \/><br \/>It's nice. It's sloppy and wet and neither of them are too concerned about form, apparently, and it tastes a little too much like gin for Louis' comfort, but Nick's hands are large and warm and they stroke down Louis' back, resting on his hips, pulling him in tighter, and Louis groans a little, rocking down, feeling his thighs tense. He brings his hands up to grab onto Nick's hair, clenching and tugging lightly and smiling against his lips when it makes Nick gasp. <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls back briefly to catch his breath. He stares down at Nick for a moment, who's gazing up at him, flushed, absolutely wrecked, with his fingers still digging into Louis' hips and Louis blinks. He turns to look at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry's still on the floor, but now he's sitting up straight, staring, open-mouthed. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says, and he's pulling back for real now, rolling off Nick's body and onto the floor. He crawls over to Harry on his hands and knees, burying his face in Harry's neck. <br \/><br \/>Harry's hands come to wrap around his waist, and he presses a kiss to Louis' hair. \"Bedtime, love?\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods and pulls himself up. He avoids Nick's eyes as he picks his way across the living room floor. \"G'night, lads,\" he rasps. <br \/><br \/>\"Night, Lou,\" Nick says, and it sounds resigned.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>At some point in the night, Harry crawled into his bed. <br \/><br \/>Louis realises this the second he blinks into consciousness, because he snorts up a curl and his body is so overheated he thinks he might burst into flame. <br \/><br \/>\"Oi,\" he says, and then winces because his motherfucking <i>head<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Right. <br \/><br \/>Right, last night. <br \/><br \/>Right. <br \/><br \/>Fuck. <br \/><br \/>He gropes for his phone to check the time. 9:32 in the morning. That weird grey area between too early and too late. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says, shaking him by the shoulder. \"Harry!\"<br \/><br \/>Harry mumbles something incoherent and turns over, flopping his face into the pillow. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry!\" Louis says again, tickling at his ribs. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck off, <i>what<\/i>,\" Harry grunts. <br \/><br \/>\"Did Nick say anything to you after I went to bed?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Harry squeezes his eyes closed. \"I dunno, mate. Maybe? I think he was a bit ticked off at me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"At <i>you<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Sighing, Harry rolls over to look into Louis' face. \"Yeah, me. Why?\"<br \/><br \/>\"What do you mean, why?\" Louis snaps. \"Because we snogged and it was awkward and I kind of drunkenly ran away?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"Didn't look awkward. Was hot.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Did he go home?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I think so,\" Harry says around a yawn. \"He said he'd kip here for a few to sleep it off, then head home.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"So I should like. Talk to him. Right?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis, fuck, I really want to help you through your emotional crisis here, you know I do, but my head feels like a bloody warzone, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles slightly, saying, \"Yeah, 'course. Sorry. Go back to sleep.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry puckers out his lips in a garish and pathetic air-kiss and rolls back over, immediately breathing steadily and deeply. <br \/><br \/>Glancing back down at his phone again, Louis unlocks it and hesitantly types a new text. <br \/><br \/><i>hey mate. brekkie again ? maybe no porn gallery but i'd like to see you x<\/i><br \/><br \/>After five minutes of locking his phone, unlocking his phone, refreshing his text messages, staring at the ceiling, and playing with Harry's hair, the stupid thing buzzes in his hand. <br \/><br \/><i>sounds good. i'll come get you in an hour x<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his lips into his mouth and stares at the text, analysing all the possible tones it could have, before shaking himself and slipping into the shower. <br \/><br \/>When Nick arrives, he's clean and shaven and quiffed another six inches high, looking entirely too put-together in tight jeans and a loose v-neck. He gives Louis a half smile. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says back. \"So, um\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Nick shakes his head quickly. \"Breakfast first,\" he says, eyes soft. \"Gotta get a croissant in me before being let down easy, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh.\" Louis blinks. \"Oh, no, I\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Nick says. \"Breakfast.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods, and they make their way to the same bakery as before, this time completely silent. It's not awkward, per se, but it's tense, almost frenetic; potential energy crackling between them. <br \/><br \/>The release of potential energy turns it into kinetic energy, or something. Louis almost snorts at his train of thought. <br \/><br \/>They get their food and sit at the same table as before. <br \/><br \/>\"So,\" Louis starts. <br \/><br \/>Nick holds up a hand. \"Can I go first?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods, picking at the flakes of bread on his plate. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Nick says. \"So you know how you thought for apparently, like, <i>ever<\/i> that I was into Harry?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods and his stomach tightens, dreading this already. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Nick says again, nodding back. \"I was never, ever into Harry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stills momentarily, then nods. \"Okay,\" he says slowly. <br \/><br \/>Nick's looking at him meaningfully, as if there's something he should be understanding. Louis has no idea. \"And?\" he prompts. <br \/><br \/>Nick rolls his eyes, then, snorting, \"Christ,\" under his breath. \"Okay, boy genius, what I'm saying is, like.\" He stops and rubs a hand over his face. \"Fuck, okay. I've liked <i>you<\/i>, you little brat. And you seemed to really, really hate me until, like, three days ago? So, I'm sorry if this is going to get weird, or if last night is going to make it weird, or what the fuck ever, but I figure, like, you know. Since last night <i>happened<\/i>, you probably deserve to know?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stares across the table at him.<br \/><br \/>Nick's eyes flit around the room nervously. \"So, like, you know, if it's ever like, <i>oh, Grimmy's being a bit weird around me<\/i>, you can just be like, <i>oh, right, because he's in love with me. Poor bloke.<\/i> Or whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You...\" Louis trails off. \"Really?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick huffs out a sharp breath. \"No. No, actually, I'm completely joking. I just thought it'd be a laugh to wind you up,\" he snaps sarcastically. <br \/><br \/>Louis feels the corners of his mouth tug up involuntarily. \"You're insufferable,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yes, well, you look like you're about to laugh at the arsehole who just told you he was in love with you, so neither of us are really at our best right now,\" Nick says. <br \/><br \/>Louis just shakes his head, the smile on his face growing. \"I was <i>so sure<\/i> you liked Harry and it bothered me <i>so much<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick rolls his eyes again. \"Well, sorry for that too, then.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says. \"No, I mean. It really, <i>really<\/i> bothered me. And I couldn't figure out why, so I just, like, blamed your age?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick looks like he's trying as hard as he can not to get hopeful. Louis keeps smiling, looking over at him through his eyelashes. <br \/><br \/>\"But, like, I think I know why it bothered me?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Nick says, \"you're going to have to say something like <i>Oh, Nicholas, I want your lovely quiff pressed up against mine<\/i> within the next ten seconds or I might actually have a coronary.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Quiff shagging?\" Louis asks. \"Is that a thing these days? Are you more hip to the sex scene than I am? Frankly, that's embarrassing.\"<br \/><br \/>Nick ignores him and says, \"Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"Yeah, Nick. Right?\"<br \/><br \/>Nick finally allows himself to smile, and it spreads across his face, reaching his eyes. \"Right,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>After a moment of them sitting in a bakery over stupid fucking posh croissants, smiling at each other, Nick says, \"I hope you realise I'm going to hold the fuck out of your hand.\"<br \/><br \/>\"In public?!\" Louis asks, feigning horror. <br \/><br \/>\"I think you'll get over the embarrassment,\" Nick says confidently.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:11620","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/11620.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=11620"}}],"title":"i guess i have some things to say. ","published":"2012-09-18T13:00:16Z","updated":"2012-09-18T13:00:16Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"(in case anyone tracks that tag idk)"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}}],"content":"alright, hello. in light of recent events \u2013 and i'm sure everyone who bothers to read this will know what i'm talking about \u2013 i've been doing a lot of thinking, which is both annoying and time-consuming. <br \/><br \/>here's what i've come to: shipping and theorising are a part of fandom life. fanfiction is a part of fandom life. it's obviously expanded exponentially since the advent of the internet \u2013\u00a0and places like livejournal, ff.net, and ao3 \u2013 but my general opinion is that it's always existed. shakespeare's historical plays, any hbo docudrama, fucking <i>braveheart<\/i>, etc; historical fiction as a whole:  that all strikes me as rpf \u2013\u00a0the manipulation of real figures to suit an author's purpose. <br \/><br \/>it becomes a problem when the real-person shipping and theorising reaches a level where it affects said <i>real figures' actual lives<\/i>. when there is a 20 year old boy lashing out violently on twitter because thousands of people are saying degrading, abusive, and invasive things to him, it's a <i>problem<\/i>. i cannot imagine anyone disagrees with this. <br \/><br \/>the personal lives of celebrities have become so marketed and advertised in this society that i feel like it has become an entitlement, almost, to know everything that goes on at all times in celebrity personal lives. and that feeling of entitlement is also a problem, because it causes people to lose sight of the fact that the celebrity they're so desperate to know everything about is an actual real life person. with the rise of social media, the lines between celebrities and their fans are blurred, which has led to a rise of this entitlement, because now we feel like we <i>know<\/i> them. we feel like they <i>owe<\/i> it to us to explain themselves, to confide in us. this is problematic. it is problematic to confront someone regarding their sexual orientation. it is problematic to try to force someone out of the closet. it is problematic to harass someone based on a <i>theory<\/i> about their personal life. i'm using the word \"problematic\" repetitively as a placeholder for \"intensely fucking disgusting.\"<br \/><br \/>through social media, a direct connection between celebrities and fans has been created, and that is a new and scary privilege. and it's a privilege that is being obscenely abused. i would guess that maybe 90% of tweets sent to any celebrity at any point in the day are words that would never come out of someone's mouth when directly faced with another human. that is another problem. i'm not trying to get all, like, \"celebrities are people, too, guys!!!\" here, but that's basically the point. zayn deleted his twitter for specific reasons. louis was upset to the point of almost cruelty. this should not be acceptable. it's <i>not<\/i> acceptable. <br \/><br \/>sexuality is one of the most intensely personal aspects of a person's life. it is absolutely no one's business, and there is absolutely no excusable way to validate the way the members of one direction are talked about on the internet. since tentatively joining this fandom, i have seen and heard the term \"f*****\" thrown around more times than i have in my life, and i went to a pretty shitty middle school. the fact that such disgusting language is used so casually is a result of the anonymity and presumed \"safety\" of the internet \u2013 and possibly partly the younger age of this fandom who maybe (hopefully) don't yet realise the effect their words have \u2013 but it is <i>hatespeech<\/i>. it's not funny or clever or endearing or lovingly mocking, or whatever it's excused as. it's hate, pure and simple. it is a horrific slur that is meant to degrade someone in the most personal way. <br \/><br \/>there is no problem with having personal theories or personal opinions or personal ideas, but we cannot presume to <i>know<\/i> anyone's sexual identity unless it is directly told to us, and \u2013 with possibly a few exceptions \u2013 there is no one on the planet who \"deserves\" to be told or know someone's sexual identity. it is a privilege to be trusted with that information. basically my point is, we have no idea whether any member of one direction identifies as gay, straight, bi, queer, or anywhere on the vast LGBTQ spectrum. what we <i>do<\/i> know about their personal lives \u2013 and their personal intimate relationships \u2013 is minimal, and must be respected. there is no excuse for shipping to have escalated in such a way where it's commonplace to send hateful and abusive tweets and messages to a celebrity's significant other. there is no excuse for shipping to have escalated in such a way where it's commonplace to send hateful and abusive tweets and messages to a celebrity based on theories about their sexuality. <br \/><br \/>i obviously ship harry and louis. i also ship louis and zayn. i also ship liam and louis. i could probably find a way to ship louis with any human that has a pulse. i write fanfiction based on manipulations and interpretations of the <i>characters<\/i> they present to the media and the public. i \u2013 we \u2013 have no idea how they personally choose to identify themselves, but it is public knowledge they are all interested in women. unless any of them say anything publicly disputing that, that is all the information we have. i write alternate-universe fanfiction because i can take my interpretations of their personalities and place them in a setting away from reality and create a story around them. i don't have a problem with this \u2013\u00a0the likenesses and names of public figures become common property, as is seen with the official one direction barbie doll things, and why would a fan buy those if not to create their own play-acted version of these characters? \u2013 but i am uncomfortable, and have become increasingly more uncomfortable, with the two non-au stories i've posted. i wrote those two pieces almost six months ago, before i was exposed to fandom, when i was still getting a feel for how i saw the members of this band as characters, and figuring out how i wanted to write them in various other realities. i made a mistake in posting them, and i am now uncomfortable with the presumptions they make \u2013\u00a0they were never meant to be any sort of representation or assumption regarding the <i>actual realities<\/i> of louis or harry, but in light of everything that's happened, i no longer want them public. so i've made the decision to take them down. i don't know if this will anger or irritate people, or even if anyone will care, but i figure it's fair enough to let people know. <br \/><br \/>i know many people have started locking their fics because of the spotlight that's being cast on fandom, and specifically this fandom, and specifically this \"larry stylinson\" frenzy. i do not want to do this. i don't have the time or patience to add people back, i don't think there is anything inherently wrong with writing fanfiction, and i would hope anyone who chooses to read what i write has the decency and respect to not link it to anyone who it could potentially upset. <br \/><br \/>this post is basically to get this whole situation out of the front of my mind and partially to express my frustration and disappointment that something that should be fun, should be lighthearted, has turned into something cruel and ugly. i enjoy reading fanfiction. i enjoy writing fanfiction. i enjoy shipping people. but i do not put my own enjoyment before the actual happiness and wellbeing of the people involved, and the fact that louis is so obviously affected by this entire situation disturbs and upsets me. ughhhhh morality crisis. anyway. <br \/><br \/>on a final note: i think it would be fantastic for the straight-washed culture of the current mainstream society to end. i think it would be fantastic if the world were a safe enough place for young celebrities \u2013 and young people in general, and old people, and everyone in between \u2013  to feel comfortable and secure enough to be themselves. there is too much hate in the world already for so many people to hate love, whatever form of love that may be or how it is expressed. regardless of how any member of one direction (specifically, for the purpose of this post) identifies, the recent events have made it clear that society has not reached that point. trying to force an individual out of the closet  (again, regardless of how the specific person in question identifies \u2013 because <i>we have no idea<\/i>) is nowhere close to creating a safe environment. and that is one of the sadder things i've witnessed."},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:11252","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/11252.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=11252"}}],"title":"if not the happiest, surely the luckiest (lt\/zm)","published":"2012-09-16T14:33:44Z","updated":"2012-10-04T23:32:09Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: if not the happiest, surely the luckiest<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: louis tomlinson\/zayn malik<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~10,000<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. reform boarding school for the obscenely wealthy, essentially. zayn is new and louis is hot shit.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: i really try not to write things that i know nothing about, but here's some boarding school au that seems to be a vague mix of my first year of college and probably a bad teen movie. we're all adept at suspending disbelief, right? so many infinite thanks to my one and only <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"influira\" lj:user=\"influira\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/influira.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/influira.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>influira<\/b><\/a><\/span>. <br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><small><small><i>oh god, it\u2019s so wonderful<br \/>to get out of bed<br \/>and drink too much coffee<br \/>and smoke too many cigarettes<br \/>and love you so much.<br \/>\u2013 frank o'hara<\/small><\/small><\/i><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\">On his first day at Herrington's School For Boys, after his dad fills out all the paperwork and helps him lug his trunk into his room and gruffly pats him on the back with a terse  <i>don't fuck this one up<\/i>, Zayn is greeted by a tall, smiling, curly-haired, gorgeous boy. <br \/><br \/>\"Hello,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" says the boy. \"I'm Harry! I'm your roommate and also your tourguide. And whatever else you want me to be.\" He winks at that. <br \/><br \/>Zayn just looks at him. Harry's smile stays firmly in place. Expectant, Zayn thinks. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm Zayn,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods excitedly. \"Yes! What's your first class? I'll walk you there. I've got a bit of time before mine.\"<br \/><br \/>Glancing down at his schedule, Zayn shrugs. \"US History,\" he says after a second. \"But I think I can find it. Thanks anyway.\"<br \/><br \/>Now Harry's smile fades a little. He blinks. \"Oh. Well. Are you sure? Who have you got? Truman? He's dull as fuck, sorry if you do.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says. \"Whatever. Hey, thanks, man. I'll see you later.\" He looks at Harry, expecting him to leave. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs a little and plops down on the bed parallel to Zayn's. It's got three patchwork quilts and a bunch of throw pillows and four stuffed animals. Zayn's not quite sure where he finds room to sleep. Harry's entire side of the room is an array of colour and pictures and postcards. His closet is spilling out onto the floor and his desk is covered in papers that look distinctly like notes \u2013 but not class notes, just. Papers covered in three or four different sets of handwriting. <br \/><br \/>\"So where are you from?\" Harry asks, eyes brightening again. As if he can make Zayn be friendly. <br \/><br \/>It's cute, sort of. <br \/><br \/>\"California,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Harry bobs excitedly. \"Cool! Where in California? My best friend's from San Francisco and he's crazy as fuck. You're gonna love him.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn's not entirely sure why people say things like that: <i>you're gonna love him<\/i>. Zayn's mostly positive he dislikes everyone that sentence is ever used in reference to.<br \/><br \/>\"LA,\" he answers. \"Southern California.\" He speaks slowly; condescending. Hoping Harry will get the message. <br \/><br \/>\"Right! Awesome. Do you know tons of celebrities?\" Harry kind of shudders. \"That'd be so weird, like, being able to say shit like, 'Yeah, I partied with Hannah Montana last night, it ain't no thang.'\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn stares at him. \"I've never partied with <i>Hannah Montana<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"No, no, I know, just. That'd be funny. I'm from Seattle, anyway. I used to live next door to Kurt Cobain! Before, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Zayn says.<br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"So that's my claim to fame.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Zayn says again.<br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him a bit longer before shrugging a little again and pulling out his phone. \"Well, if you ever wanna, like, hang out, just let me know! West Coasters should stick together.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Zayn says and grabs his school bag off his bed, turning for the door.<br \/><br \/>\"And if you wanna grab dinner tonight, my friends and I are heading down at six!\" Harry calls after him. Zayn waves his hand behind his head, hoping that passes for an answer. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry was right. Truman is dull as fuck. But, to be fair, Zayn reasons, US History is already dull as fuck. It starts off with a bang and it's all downhill from there. <br \/><br \/>He sits at the back of the room and he keeps his head down and he hopes to god that this isn't one of those places that takes the new kid and makes them stand up and say their favourite fucking colour or something. Zayn doesn't have a fucking favourite colour. If he's asked, he'll say something ridiculous, like, black, to match the colour of his soul. Actually, that's pretty good. Maybe he kind of wants to be asked, just to see the look on everyone's face. <br \/><br \/>Anyway, he can feel everyone staring at him. He stares at his desk. It has <i>L+H<\/i> engraved in it, but the <i>H<\/i> has been crossed out in marker, with an <i>A<\/i> scrawled under it, but it looks like that's been scribbled over in ballpoint, as well. Zayn considers replacing it with a <i>Z<\/i>, just to see if that could cause gossip. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't, though. He just draws a picture in his notebook of a building going up in flames. He imagines mailing it to his father. That could be funny.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The first audible whisper comes after US History, when Zayn is wandering the halls for his next class. <br \/><br \/>\"My father is on the board and he told me that the new boy is some <i>delinquent<\/i> who got kicked out of <i>public school<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn hunches his shoulders into the starched collar of his fucking <i>uniform<\/i> and keeps walking. <br \/><br \/>He has Chemistry next and the classroom has huge floor to ceiling windows and marble lab tables and massive microscopes. Zayn could probably cause damage in here. <br \/><br \/>The teacher \u2013 Johnson something \u2013 glances up from his desk as Zayn walks in. <br \/><br \/>\"Malik?\" Johnson-something asks, bored.<br \/><br \/>Zayn gives a little nod. <br \/><br \/>Johnson-something glances down at a paper on his desk. \"You're partners with Tomlinson. Tomlinson, wave.\"<br \/><br \/>A boy in the second to last row, leaning back precariously in his chair with his feet slung up onto the table in front him, lifts a hand and waggles it around a bit. Zayn glances at him. He's got hair that looks like it's been through a tornado, but probably a tornado that involved a lot of time and product and mirrors. His tie is loose and the top buttons of his shirt are undone and his trousers are rolled up above his ankles and his tan is unseasonably bright. Zayn closes his eyes to hide how they roll up into his head. <br \/><br \/>Zayn makes his way back. The boy \u2013 Tomlinson, apparently \u2013\u00a0gives him a once-over and grins lazily. \"Hey. Louis,\" he says, sticking his hand out.<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at it, then up at Louis's face. \"Zayn,\" he says shortly and arches his eyebrow, ignoring the hand. <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks and lets his hand drop. \"You're Harry's new roommate.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs and pulls out another notebook. \"Sure,\" he says, sitting down.<br \/><br \/>Louis smirks again and turns back to face the front, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting rapidly. \"Where you from?\" he says, once he's done and sliding the phone back out of sight. <br \/><br \/>\"SoCal.\" Zayn doesn't look back over.<br \/><br \/>\"Nice. I'm from NorCal.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. Johnson-something stands up and walks to the projector, clearing his throat to the class. <br \/><br \/>\"Good chat,\" Louis says with a hint of amusement. \"Real thrilling.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn closes his eyes to hide how they roll. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The second audible whisper comes as Zayn is walking back to his dorm room. <br \/><br \/>\"My mom is friends with the president of the board and she told me the new kid is some huge drug dealer but his dad got him out of prison because they're oil money.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn hunches his shoulders again and comes to the conclusion that <i>it's not worth it<\/i>. Not worth it to set any stories straight, not worth it trying to change anyone's opinions, not worth it to make any friends. <br \/><br \/>He stands outside his door, fiddling with his keys for a moment. He hope Harry's not here. He just. Needs a minute. <br \/><br \/>No luck. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey! Zayn!\" Harry yells, as Zayn lets himself in. Louis is sprawled on Harry's bed next to him, shoes kicked off and tie on the floor. Harry jumps up and bounces around excitedly. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis told me you two already met! That's great! Liam's gonna be stopping by in a few, I'm sure you'll like him. He's a bit less crazy,\" Harry says, beaming. <br \/><br \/>Zayn looks from Harry to Louis. Louis gives him a raised eyebrow and a smirk. \"Hey again, Zayn,\" he drawls. \"H here was just telling me you're from LA.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods shortly. \"Yep.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him for a few seconds before smiling to himself and glancing over at Harry. \"Was he like this with you, or am I just special?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry furrows his brow and gives Louis a sharp look. Zayn rolls his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Anyway<\/i>, Zayn, would you like to come to dinner with us?\" Harry asks. <br \/><br \/>Zayn clenches his jaw. \"Not particularly.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs, just as someone knocks on the door. Harry bites his lip and gives Zayn the most pathetic kicked-puppy expression. \"Please come,\" Harry says, walking over and opening the door. Two boys are standing there, the blond one is leaning against the doorframe, texting rapidly, and the tall, brunet in full uniform smiles easily at Harry. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" Harry says. \"Guys! This is my new roommate, Zayn! Zayn, this is Liam and Niall!\"<br \/><br \/>The blond \u2013 Niall, apparently \u2013\u00a0looks up from his phone with a huge grin. \"Hey!\" he says. Liam smiles, too, a bit more shyly. <br \/><br \/>Zayn nods. Is it some kind of fucking code to be overly fucking friendly here?<br \/><br \/>\"So, Zayn,\" Louis says. \"What brings you to this lovely institution all mysteriously in the middle of November?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn glances at him, before turning around and facing his trunk and bags that have yet to be opened. \"Bad luck, I suppose,\" he replies shortly. <br \/><br \/>Liam makes a sympathetic noise and, seriously, Zayn did <i>not<\/i> sign up for some Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants situation. <br \/><br \/>\"Well, yeah, obviously,\" Louis says. \"I don't think any of us are here because our parents are especially proud of us.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn arches an eyebrow down at his luggage, but doesn't turn around, doesn't say anything. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" Liam protests. \"What do you mean?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"When was the last time you even heard from your dad, Li?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn subtly peeks over to see Liam's expression fold into itself. Louis sighs and holds out his hand, motioning for Liam to sit on the bed beside him. As he does, Louis curls up around him, stroking a hand through his hair. <br \/><br \/>\"Anyway,\" Harry says nervously, \"all Louis meant was that we're all generally neglected rich kids.\" <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs and throws himself on top of Louis and Liam. \"I was shipped over here from Ireland!\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn squats down to unlock his trunk, facing all the shit he threw in at the last minute, horribly disorganised and horribly daunting. <br \/><br \/>\"Come to dinner with us before doing all that, Zayn,\" Harry pleads again. <br \/><br \/>Zayn finally turns around to face the pile of boys on Harry's bed. Niall's looking at him excitedly with red cheeks and bright eyes. Liam's looking at him curiously. Harry's looking at him with big, hopeful cow-eyes. Louis... isn't looking at him. Louis is staring out the window into the dark New England autumn. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says. \"Fine, alright. Okay.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry brightens immediately, turning the grin up full force. \"Excellent! I think it's taco night, isn't it?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts, turning back. \"Oh boy. Get ready for a real treat,\" he says dryly. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The dining hall is packed already when they make their way down, but there's a smaller table in the corner that is noticeably empty. Zayn feels every eye in the room follow their group as Louis leads them to the table, plopping down dramatically. <br \/><br \/>\"H,\" he says, turning on what Zayn assumes to be his most charming expression, \"would you be a dear and get me a taco?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes and Liam coughs a laugh into his palm. Niall's the only one who openly giggles. Zayn just watches. <br \/><br \/>\"Fine,\" Harry says. \"We'll just be <i>nice people<\/i> and show Zayn how to do it while you sit around like a bum.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis beams. \"Love you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn blinks. \"Wait. I know how to both make tacos and navigate a line, thank you,\" he says sharply. <br \/><br \/>They all look at him sort of pityingly. \"Not here, mate. Not here you don't,\" Niall says. <br \/><br \/>To Zayn's immense frustration, it turns out they're right. He has to swipe his ID card to even get in line, enter his room number, swipe again to get a plate, and then there are three separate buffets. <br \/><br \/>\"That one's vegetarian,\" Harry says. \"That one's vegan. And this one's normal. Then at the end, for desserts, it switches order. Normal, vegan, vegetarian. Oh, and salads are on the other side, next to the drinks. Oh, and if you need silverware, you have to swipe again over by the door.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What the fuck,\" Zayn mutters.<br \/><br \/>Niall laughs. \"It's insane. I don't know if they've had a problem with, like, badgers stealing their food or summat, but they keep this shit locked up tighter than Liam's trousers.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" Liam says. Zayn smirks involuntarily. Harry catches him and looks delighted. <br \/><br \/>After guiding Zayn through everything, they make their way back to the table. Louis is laying on the bench, arms folded under his head, eyes closed. Harry nudges him with his hip, setting down a plate with three tacos. Louis sits up and grabs one. \"You've always been my favourite,\" Louis coos. <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs before tucking into his own plate of food as if he hasn't eaten for a week. Zayn slowly sinks down next to Liam, the only one who seems to have any sort of normal habits. Liam smiles at him softly. \"First time can be a bit weird,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances up at that. \"Not like you'd know, Li,\" he says, laughing. Harry shakes his head, smiling. <br \/><br \/>Liam blushes. \"Whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks around the room. \"Why's everyone staring?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"You're new. Oh, and Louis never lets anyone else eat with us.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn arches an eyebrow as Niall says, \"Except Aiden!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis's face darkens. \"Not Aiden.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Trouble in paradise, then?\" Liam asks.<br \/><br \/>Harry glances at Louis worriedly. \"It's nothing,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Nothing but an art teacher.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam's eyes widen. \"Cardle? Really? I thought that was just\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's <i>just<\/i> nothing,\" Louis spits. \"And we're not talking about it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sorry, Lou,\" Liam says softly. \"I know you really\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Anyway<\/i>,\" Harry says. \"Zayn! Tell us about yourself. Seriously, how'd you end up here from LA?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Bad luck,\" he says again.<br \/><br \/>Louis eyes him suspiciously. \"Alright, how about this, we'll go around in a circle and tell you all the bad shit we did to get here, and then we'll revisit this question, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Niall perks up excitedly. \"I'll start! When I was thirteen, my parents were on tour, so I threw a house party in my parents' vacation house in Dublin and it caused a bit of a national scandal. The papers were all saying that I was being raised some sort of rock 'n' roll alcoholic-type so I was sent to America for damage control purposes.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Niall's parents are musicians,\" Liam supplies in a tone that suggests he thinks he's being quite helpful. <br \/><br \/>Zayn says, \"Cool.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry sets down his taco. \"When I was fifteen, I slept with my dad's second wife. So. That didn't go over too well.\" He doesn't look very guilty.<br \/><br \/>Now, Zayn bites back a smile. \"Nice.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Liam?\" Louis prompts. <br \/><br \/>Liam looks down at his plate. \"Well. I don't know, really. My parents are, like, doctors? And they were just never around, so I guess coming here was easier than dealing with nannies or whatever you hire for teenagers.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn glances over at him. \"That's less exciting and more sad, dude,\" he says. Liam shrugs. <br \/><br \/>Everyone looks at Louis. Louis raises an eyebrow back before turning to Zayn. \"And I'm gay,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Zayn just stares at him, waiting. \"And...?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"And nothing. It's your turn.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at Louis thoughtfully. \"Alright. I burned down my old school.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Liam gasps. <br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Well, okay, not really. My best friend and I were hanging out on the field one night, smoking or whatever, and he thought it'd be hilarious to toss his butt in one of the open windows, so he did, and it landed in a recycle bin and the whole west wing lit up before anyone but us noticed and by then we were long gone. There was security footage, though. I took the blame because my dad has money and his doesn't.\" He stops. Looks back to Louis. \"And I'm gay, but I don't think that was a factor.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him, speculative. \"So you're like Andy Dufresne.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn blinks back. \"That doesn't quite fit.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Couldn't think of another reference. Innocent guy in jail, whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall says around a mouthful of food, \"That's really cool of you though, mate. I don't know many people who would have done that.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods seriously. \"Watch out here, hero. Pretty much everyone will blame anything on whoever's closest.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Except if you're Louis Tomlinson,\" Liam snorts. \"He gets away with everything.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis raises his taco in a mock-toast. \"Born fabulous, darling.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>After dinner, they all split up, ostensibly to go to their rooms. Harry and Zayn wander back to their dorm in silence. Once they're inside, Harry looks over at him.<br \/><br \/>\"Want some help unpacking?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \"I'm fine.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay.\" Harry turns to his desk and uselessly straightens the papers that have exploded all over it. \"So, um, I hope you liked everyone.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn glances over at him. \"Yeah, I, um. Yeah. Thanks, you know. Sorry for... how I was. Am. How I am.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs with a little smile. \"No, no. You actually \u2013 well. You remind me a lot of how Louis was when he first got here.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis? The Louis I just met?\" Zayn says, incredulous.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry laughs. \"Yeah. He was so quiet and bitchy and I thought he <i>hated<\/i> me for a long time. But, like, I get it. It's shitty, getting sent away. Hit him harder than he'll let on.\"<br \/><br \/>\"And you?\" Zayn asks. <br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs again. \"My mom died when I was little, you know? And my dad and I never really cared about each other. He's a film director and always gone or busy or whatever, so I was just. I don't know. I never really had any attachment to my family or home or anything. And now I have best friends here, so I don't mind.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods. \"That's... um.\" He has no idea what to say, not now, and not when all the boys were spilling their shit at dinner. He's not used to being around such <i>complicated<\/i> people. <br \/><br \/>Harry gives him a sympathetic smile. \"It's fine. Anyway. You've gotta be pretty overwhelmed, right?\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's whatever.\" Zayn shrugs. <br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Harry says. \"Well, I'm really glad you liked everyone. They liked you, too. Well, Louis did, which is the main thing. Niall and Liam like everybody.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn turns to look fully at Harry. \"I'm really not too concerned about Louis's approval, actually.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Harry lets out a little laugh. \"We all thought that at one point.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Zayn finally ducks down to start throwing clothes onto his bed from one of his suitcases. \"What's his story?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry stops fiddling around with his desk and instead stretches his long body out on his bed, shoving over all the pillows and stuffed animals and absolute <i>crap<\/i> that's covering it. He exhales rather loudly. \"I never really know how to explain him, if that makes sense? He's mental, absolutely crazy. But, like, really wonderful. And there's just, like, something about him. I dunno. He's special. Gets hurt too easily and often, s'probably why he's such a little bitch to everyone but the people he trusts.\"<br \/><br \/>\"His parents really sent him here because he's gay?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Well\u2013\" Harry starts, then stops, shaking his head. \"No, sorry, it's really not my place, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn feels a rush of admiration for Harry at that. \"Yeah, yeah, 'course. Have you two ever...?\" he asks, trailing off, remembering the <i>L+H<\/i> carved into the desk in his history classroom. <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles sort of sadly. \"For a minute. But. It was too much for me at the time. <i>He<\/i> was too much for me at the time. So, yeah, I dunno. We got over it and now he's my best friend. You know? Love him so much it's scary, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn stares into his tiny, empty closet with a handful of jackets, not moving. \"Yeah,\" he says. \"That's a good feeling, sometimes.\" He turns his head and smiles at Harry. \"Until they burn down the school.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, and Zayn thinks, yeah, alright. He could be okay here.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The second day is better.<br \/><br \/>He forgets to set an alarm, probably because he turned his phone off sometime yesterday so he wouldn't have to deal with his father, and probably also because his actual clock is buried somewhere in a bag he didn't unpack, because at some point Harry suggested they watch <i>The Shawshank Redemption<\/i> and that startled a laugh out of Zayn, so they did. <br \/><br \/>\"Is Louis going to hook me up with a rock hammer?\" Zayn asked lazily. <br \/><br \/>Harry had smirked. \"How come he gets to be Red and not me?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugged. \"You can supply the posters,\" he said, flicking a glance to Kate Upton on Harry's wall. <br \/><br \/>So now, he's woken up by a fucking stuffed panda in the face and Harry grinning at him. \"Breakfast?\" Harry asks. <br \/><br \/>And breakfast is mostly the same as dinner \u2013 Louis is slumped at the table and Harry stacks his plate for two and Zayn struggles with swiping his fucking ID card about seventeen billion times and Niall eats more food in the line than Zayn even considers putting on his own plate and Liam blushes at nothing and everyone stares. <br \/><br \/>\"What's your first class?\" Niall asks him once they're all seated. <br \/><br \/>Zayn pulls his crumpled schedule from his pocket. \"English. With Sharpe.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glances up at him. \"Me too.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods a little and looks to Harry, who's just smiling down into the plate he and Louis are sharing. \"Okay,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis sticks by him after breakfast, shooting Harry a look. Harry nods, waves, and takes off to the library building with Liam in tow. Niall melts away back towards the dorms. <br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at Louis, who's looking back at him. \"Class doesn't start for an hour,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"But you have that twitch.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and grabs Zayn's elbow, pulling him across the grass of the courtyard, through a small path between the administration building and the auditorium, walking quickly beside him until they reach the cutoff of the grounds \u2013 manicured lawns sinking into tall fir trees, close together and hazy with morning fog. <br \/><br \/>Louis keeps walking until they're out of sight of the buildings and stops, leans against a tree, and shoves a hand in his pocket. <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Zayn says again, vaguely nervous. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little, pulling out a pack of Parliaments and a white lighter. \"Yeah?\" he says, motioning. <br \/><br \/>Zayn feels his face relax, his lips curve upward. \"Yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis taps the pack against the heel of his hand harshly before tipping two out, putting them both between his lips and lighting them together. He inhales sharply before sliding one between his fingers, handing it off to Zayn gracefully. <br \/><br \/>Zayn takes it, eyes never leaving Louis's face. He squints over. \"How are you real?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and tilts his head back against the tree to stare up. They can't see the sky from here \u2013 the trees are pressed too close together, claustrophobic. \"Tell me about yourself, Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I thought I already did,\" Zayn says, letting the smoke curl out with his words. <br \/><br \/>Louis lets his eyes fall down to meet Zayn's. \"No, you told me your friend burnt down your school. Unless that's all there is to you. In which case I want my cigarette back.\"<br \/><br \/>Flicking his ash to the side, Zayn digs his toe into the blanket of needles on the ground. He shrugs. \"I'm from LA.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs at the sky. \"Yes.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't know,\" Zayn says.<br \/><br \/>\"Should I ask questions, then?\" Louis says, amused. <br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs again.<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Louis says. \"Tell me how your dad has money.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at him sharply. \"Excuse me?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs again, bitterly this time. \"Please. You're gonna need to get over the impropriety if you're going to make it here.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn exhales a cloud of smoke. \"Gross,\" he says. Then, \"Oil.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"Figured.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Racist.\" Zayn arches an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Louis arches one right back. \"No, but that's another thing you're going to need to get over. People can smell oil from a mile.\"<br \/><br \/>Rolling his eyes, Zayn says, \"What about you, then?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" Louis says, smiling wryly. \"I am old California money, my friend. Gold rush, wine country, you name it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Classy,\" Zayn snorts. <br \/><br \/>\"Isn't it?\" Louis takes a long drag. \"So, what do you do?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Zayn says. \"If you're going to force me to do this, you need to be more specific.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis eyes him sort of proudly. \"Yeah,\" he says. \"I mean, like, what's your thing? Like, everyone has a thing. Harry can sing and charm. Niall can drink and make friends. Liam can get good grades and please everyone.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn furrows his eyebrows. \"What's <i>your<\/i> thing?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, I'm sure Harry's told you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Huh,\" Louis says, surprised. \"Well, me, I'm just the bitch.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn studies him for a moment. \"Nah,\" he says. \"Cop-out.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Maybe,\" Louis says, smiling softly. <br \/><br \/>There's a rumbling in the distance and Louis glances up again. \"Storm,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"I can draw and keep secrets,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis drops his cigarette, grinding it out with his toe. \"Perfect. Let's go to English.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn follows suit, carefully making sure the embers are extinguished. \"You're going to tell me your thing sooner or later,\" he promises.<br \/><br \/>Louis glances at him. \"We'll see.\"<br \/><br \/>When they get to the classroom, Louis pulls Zayn down into the seat next to him. Everyone stares. Louis pulls out a sheet of paper, and Zayn grabs it. <br \/><br \/><i>are they staring cos i'm new or cos no one's allowed to sit by you<\/i>, he scrawls. <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. <i>both<\/i>, he writes back. <br \/><br \/><i>so you really only hang out with harry liam and niall?<\/i> Zayn writes. <br \/><br \/>Louis writes, <i>i'm a bitch<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Zayn shakes his head. <i><u>cop out<\/i><\/u>.<br \/><br \/><i>just wait and see<\/i>, Louis writes and shoves the paper under his textbooks. <br \/><br \/>Class begins with a lecture that stretches fifty minutes long and ends with a partner project assigned. Louis raises an eyebrow at Zayn and Zayn shrugs. They get Postmodernist poets in the 20th century. <br \/><br \/>\"Perfect,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>\"Um,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins and pinches Zayn's cheek. Zayn squirms away. \"I know about poetry,\" Louis says. \"Don't worry.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Is that your thing?\" Zayn asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"No.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn just shakes his head. \"I have studio art,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah. See you in chem.\" Louis gives him a little nod and looks at him for a second before disappearing into the hallway. Zayn stands in the English classroom for a moment before noticing all of the hostile stares. <br \/><br \/>\"I heard the new kid sucked Louis Tomlinson off in Harry's room last night and that's why he's allowed to sit with them,\" comes the next audible whisper. <br \/><br \/>Zayn hunches his shoulders and walks to the art building.  <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>By the time Zayn gets to History, the <i>A<\/i> on his desk is fully scribbled over in permanent marker. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"You're making everyone hate me,\" Zayn says as he drops his bag next to their lab table. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances up from his phone. \"Excuse me?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn repeats, \"You are making everyone hate me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You mean despite your overwhelmingly friendly attitude and general love for humanity, little ol' <i>me<\/i> is causing everyone to hate you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis appears to considers this. He shrugs. \"Probably. But it's just jealousy.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn huffs a laugh. \"Modest.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"I prefer honest, actually.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn eyes him. \"So you're, like, the hot shit around here?\"<br \/><br \/>\"God.\" Louis rolls his eyes. \"Take your gossip to Harry.\"<br \/><br \/>\"But you are, aren't you?\" Zayn smiles a little. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him and relaxes once he sees Zayn's teasing. \"The hottest shit around. Stick with me, kid, and you'll go places.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I might swoon. What do I have to do to get your varsity jacket?\"<br \/><br \/>Johnson-something clears his throat at the front of the room. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins and pulls out another sheet of paper. <i>i can think of a few things<\/i>, he writes. <br \/><br \/>Zayn silently mock-gasps. <i>you dare cast aspersions upon my virtue???<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis raises an eyebrow in Zayn's direction, flicking a glance up and down his body. <br \/><br \/>Zayn blushes. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>When Zayn gets back to his room after his last class, Louis and Harry are sprawled on Harry's bed, heads together, talking quietly. <br \/><br \/>Zayn hesitates in the doorway. \"Should I...?\" he says, trailing off, unsure whether or not this is private Louis-and-Harry time or if he's interrupting something <i>else<\/i> or <i>what<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>\"No, no! Come here!\" Harry says, sitting up and leaning against the wall, throwing his legs over Louis's hips. He pats the bed beside him and Zayn quirks an eyebrow but crawls over Louis to sit next to Harry. <br \/><br \/>\"How was your day, darling?\" Harry asks, wrapping an arm around Zayn's shoulder once he's settled. <br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \"Fine. Everyone hates me because of Louis, though.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Set him straight, H.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little. \"I wouldn't dare do that to you,\" he says. Louis rolls his eyes. Harry smirks and turns back to Zayn. \"Everyone hates you?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Zayn nods. \"Apparently being deemed worthy of the great Louis Tomlinson's attention is justifiable cause.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah, yes.\" Harry nods back. \"We've all suffered through that. Niall had it the worst, didn't he?\" Harry says to Louis. Louis rolls his eyes and shrugs, bringing his arm up to drape across his face. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm not in this conversation,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry stage-whispers to Zayn, \"There was a rumour for <i>months<\/i> that Louis only hung out with Niall because Niall let Lou bend him over in the bathrooms at any time during the day or night.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs. \"Yeah, I've heard that I suck you off for your attention. I mean, it's rather flattering to know everyone assumes I give good enough head, but, like, also... not really.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis says, \"I'm really, really not in this conversation.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn says to Harry, \"What's the deal with him, anyway? Why do people care who he hangs out with?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"I don't know, because, honestly, if they got to know him they'd see that he's just crazy. But I think it's mostly that he refuses to let anyone get to know him and he's got that <i>attitude<\/i> that makes people <i>want<\/i> to know him, so it's a cycle of mystery.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Seriously,\" Louis says. \"Can I not be here for this?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Why don't you talk to anyone?\" Zayn asks him. <br \/><br \/>\"Because everyone is awful,\" Louis says shortly.<br \/><br \/>Zayn points out, \"You talked to <i>me<\/i>, and you had no idea who I was.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis takes his arm off his face and regards Zayn thoughtfully. \"Harry vouched for you. Plus you didn't have that awful stink of money.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You vouched for me?\" Zayn looks at Harry. \"I was pretty decisively unfriendly yesterday.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"You reminded me of Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"Let's not get all sappy here.\"<br \/><br \/>\"That really wasn't a compliment,\" Harry says, laughing.<br \/><br \/>\"How did you become friends with three of the friendliest people in the world?\" Zayn wonders. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes again. \"I don't know, but I regret it every day of my life.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and ruffles Louis's hair. \"What a lie.\" He looks back at Zayn. \"Louis actually came here last of all of us. He roomed with Niall last year and it's impossible not to be friends with Niall \u2013 believe me, Louis tried. And Liam's best friends with Niall so Lou had to get used to <i>that<\/i>, and I was good friends with both of them and Louis naturally got a huge fat crush on me, so it all just came together splendidly.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Louis says. \"That's so inaccurate. <i>Harry<\/i> had a fat crush on <i>me<\/i> and would always be all like, ooh where are you going, ooh will Louis be there, ooh Louis is so hot, ooh I want Louis in my bed, ooh Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins widely. \"Okay, fine. That actually might be more accurate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"And that worked for you?\" Zayn asks Louis incredulously, unable to picture Louis succumbing to that sort of desperate brand of flattery. <br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Louis says, raising his eyebrows at Zayn before flicking a glance at Harry. \"Look at him.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs. \"Fair enough.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry preens, fluffing his hair and batting his eyelashes ridiculously. \"I am irresistible.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Don't fall for it,\" Louis warns Zayn. \"He'll break your heart.\" He winks at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry's wide smile shrinks into something fond, tinged with regret. The hand in Louis's hair turns stroking, almost comforting, Zayn notices. <br \/><br \/>\"Should we get dinner?\" Zayn says into the sudden silence, uncomfortable. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, kicking the two sets of legs off his lower body. \"H, tell Niall and Li to meet us down there.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry groans. \"It's meatloaf night. Gird your loins, boys.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>After dinner \u2013 Harry was right, the meatloaf was horrid \u2013 Louis jerks his head to Zayn, motioning towards the forest from that morning. Zayn nods quickly, waving to Harry. <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head. \"I won't come to your funerals,\" he calls behind him. <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks and takes off into the darkness. <br \/><br \/>\"Oi,\" Zayn says. \"Slow down. If I get lost and have to scavenge for food and make fires out of pine needles and dried shit, I'm going to be a bit irked.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Please,\" Louis says, but slows down. \"It's impossible to get lost. There's an iron gate around the entire grounds.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What the fuck is this place?\" Zayn asks. \"Is it actually, like, reform school? My dad just said it was boarding school.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"It's on the cusp. Reform school for the obscenely wealthy who don't want to have their friends know they sent their kid to reform school. One of those open secret, unspoken things.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Zayn says, stomach clenching. \"And you're here because...?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I already told you,\" Louis responds shortly. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Zayn pushes. \"No, not unless this is a very different sort of <i>reform<\/i> school.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis leans against a tree and looks at Zayn. \"Look, just drop it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What, so you can ask <i>me<\/i> personal questions but I can't ask you the same?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis lights two cigarettes and passes one to Zayn. \"I don't even know you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Zayn says. \"I don't know you either.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't say anything. <br \/><br \/>Zayn's fine with silence, usually. He generally appreciates it when people don't push for conversation. He sees no need to fill every gap. <br \/><br \/>This silence, though, is different.<br \/><br \/>So he says, \"But, like, I <i>want<\/i> to know you.\"<br \/><br \/>And he remembers what Harry said, about needing Louis's approval. His throat feels dry, but he takes another drag of the cigarette. He's never needed anyone's approval before, he's never felt any sort of desire to impress anyone. But fuck it if Harry wasn't right. Louis is mysterious and Zayn's curious and god <i>dammit<\/i> he wants Louis to like him. <br \/><br \/>Louis finally sighs a little. \"I've only ever told Harry.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \"Whatever, man. You don't, like, owe me. Sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis exhales a cloud of smoke. \"No, just like. Maybe later?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn will take that. \"Sure. It's... yeah. No worries.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Were...\" Louis trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. \"Are your parents cool with you being gay?\" He pauses, then finishes hurriedly. \"Unless you're not, and that was just, like, a joke.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn tilts his head to the side. \"Why would that have been a joke?\"<br \/><br \/>Shrugging, Louis says, \"Sometimes it is.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn bites his lip. \"They don't know, I don't think. I went to a public school in Los Angeles, you know? It was, like, never an ideal time to be like, here and queer or whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"<i>Would<\/i> they care, though? Do you think?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't know.\" Zayn pauses. \"If they did, it would be pretty far down the list of disappointments, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Louis laughs lightly. \"Right, of course.\" He lights two more cigarettes. Zayn nods his thanks. He's not ready to go back, either.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"So, we should go to the library today,\" Louis tells Zayn over breakfast on Saturday. He bats Harry's hand away from the last hashbrown and Harry sighs, exasperated. Zayn rolls his eyes and offers Harry his hashbrown. Harry grins. <br \/><br \/>Zayn says, \"Should we, your highness?\"<br \/><br \/>Niall snorts. <br \/><br \/>Louis raises an eyebrow. \"Yes, we should. We have that paper due next week. Postmodernism.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"Right, right.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam swallows a bite of food and says, \"Louis will do all the work anyway, don't sound so put out.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I will not!\" Louis says, affronted. <br \/><br \/>\"You will,\" Harry says. \"Especially on poetry.\" Harry looks at Zayn, \"He's a bit of a perfectionist.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I am not!\" Louis says. \"Don't you dare think I'm going to do all the work.\" Louis glares at Zayn. <br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Relax. I've already done some research.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him blankly for a moment before a smile spreads across his face. \"Ha! Suck my dick, Liam, I only did all the work that one time because you refused to do <i>any<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam stares across the table at Louis. \"Are you serious? I distinctly remember being told to sit on the other side of the library and <i>do math<\/i> because you deemed me useless.\"<br \/><br \/>Niall laughs loudly and pats Liam on the head. \"I remember that. You were such a bitch last year, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grumbles, \"You <i>were<\/i> useless.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're not selling yourself as a great partner here, dude,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head. \"He's an awful partner. Good riddance.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You could have warned me about this before I got saddled with him as my partner in <i>two classes<\/i> on my first fucking day.\" Zayn glares at Harry. <br \/><br \/>Louis pushes himself up from the bench. \"Relax, princess. It'll be fine. Now come on. Let's get our Lit on.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Did you really just\u2013\" Niall starts. <br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Louis says, scowling.<br \/><br \/>Zayn gets up and trails after Louis as he stalks out of the dining hall, acutely aware of the stares and whispers they're getting. <br \/><br \/>\"Fucking slow down, Louis,\" Zayn hisses. <br \/><br \/>Louis turns back and waits, arching an eyebrow. \"Demanding.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sorry for being a little sensitive to the fact <i>everyone<\/i> thinks I'm going to blow you in the bathroom,\" Zayn says, annoyed. <br \/><br \/>\"You're going to need to get over that,\" Louis says. \"And also, what's wrong with blowing me in the bathroom?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shoots him a look. \"Don't get any ideas.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just laughs and leads them to the library. He weaves through the stacks to an empty table, way at the back, next to huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the courtyard. <br \/><br \/>\"Your need for seclusion is overwhelming,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"You're the one who says everyone just stares anyway. Anyway, I'm thinking we should focus on O'Hara, Ashbery, Levertov, and Spicer.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn shakes his head to himself and pulls out his notebook. \"Is that what you <i>think<\/i>, or what you've <i>decided<\/i>?<br \/><br \/>\"Do you have any other suggestions?\" Louis asks. <br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"No, that's fine. I've already got stuff on O'Hara.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him and his lips curl up into a soft smile. \"Yeah? Do you like him? He's my favourite.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn says, \"Yeah?\" He doesn't know what else to say. He just doesn't really want Louis to stop \u2013 it seems like every time Louis is about to open up, he clamps down suddenly, as if everything is too private to share.<br \/><br \/>Louis looks down at his hands, clasped together tightly. \"Yeah, I like. If I ever got a tattoo, it'd probably be O'Hara.\"<br \/><br \/>Tattoos are something Zayn can talk about. \"Anything specific?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs a bit, looking down again, as if he's hesitating. <br \/><br \/>Zayn studies him. \"I have tattoos,\" he says. And then he cringes, because what the fuck: <i>I have tattoos<\/i>, like, cool, good job, great conversation. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances up. \"Really?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods, but says, \"Tell me about yours first.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I...\" Louis starts. \"Okay, like. Don't, like, laugh?\" he says, and god, he sounds shy.<br \/><br \/>Zayn says, \"Of course.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis digs in his bag for a moment, before pulling out his wallet and slipping a scrap of paper from the folds. He slides it across the table to Zayn. <br \/><br \/><i>Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Zayn stares at the paper for a long time before looking up at Louis. Louis is staring at his hands again, biting his lip, and fidgeting slightly.<br \/><br \/>\"I love that,\" Zayn says. \"That's... yeah. I can see why you want that. I love that.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs shortly, glancing out the window. \"Better than a Bukowski tattoo, I suppose.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn chokes on a small, surprised laugh. \"Probably, yeah. Unless you also want to get a feather weave in your hair and wear fringed boots like all the girls I went to school with in LA.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flicks his fringe off his forehead. \"I would look startlingly beautiful with feathers in my hair, don't you think?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh yes,\" Zayn says. \"Absolutely unmatched.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks back over at Zayn across the table. \"So tell me about your tattoos,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>So Zayn does and Louis stares at him with something in his eyes and his hands twitch toward Zayn's arm as if to touch and Zayn just keeps talking quietly, explaining. <br \/><br \/>When he's done, Louis looks at him and says simply, \"You're different than I thought.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs a little. \"Yeah? What did you think?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't know,\" Louis says, shrugging. \"Thought you were more, like, into an image, or something. Seeming, like, badass. Or whatever. Silent but deadly, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn stares. \"Did you really just \u2013 was I just compared to a <i>fart<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis throws his head back and laughs. \"I was really hoping you'd let that slip by.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Excuse you, I'm <i>offended<\/i>.\" Zayn kicks Louis's ankle under the table, and Louis kicks back, smiling. <br \/><br \/>\"How are your classes going, by the way?\" Louis asks. \"Besides the glorious time you spend with me, obviously.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Obviously,\" Zayn says. \"Um, they're fine, I don't know. Studio seems good. History's awful. Calc is fine. It's whatever. School.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"Who do you have for history?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Truman.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"Me, too. Second period. I just sit at the back and waste away.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says. \"Same. I think I might sit at your desk, actually.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blushes a bit, glances back out the window. \"I probably don't have to ask how you know that.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles. \"Are you actually a thirteen year old girl? Like, just wondering.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Louis says, kicking him again. \"I get bored and like to keep track.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Of who you're currently sleeping with?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"It's just interesting to see how long it lasts.\"<br \/><br \/>\"There are only two people on the list,\" Zayn points out.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, smiling bitterly. \"Neither of them lasted very long.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn plays with the bracelets on his wrists for a moment before saying hesitantly, \"Um, what happened with Harry? I mean, you don't have to tell me or whatever. Just, like, you guys seem to be really close, so...\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair. \"I mean. Whatever. It was my fault, I guess. He just. Well, okay, so, he liked me, right, and I was in kind of a bad place, like I had just gotten here and I was still, like, working through all that, and he was gorgeous and so I sort of, like,\" he stops and stares out the window at the groups of people playing frisbee. <br \/><br \/>\"I just, like,\" Louis starts again, \"I guess I came on too strong? Or something? I don't know. I probably turned into the stereotypical crazy boyfriend, I don't know, you'd have to talk to him. I just latched on and fell too hard, too quickly, and I think it freaked him out?\" Louis turns from the window and looks at Zayn. \"I'm totally annihilating all of my cool today, aren't I?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smirks at that. \"I never thought you were cool to begin with.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Liar,\" Louis says, smiling. <br \/><br \/>\"So you broke up?\" Zayn prompts, wanting to hear the end of the story.<br \/><br \/>Louis shoots Zayn a look, and Zayn assumes he's annoyed at being forced to continue. \"Yeah, well, we talked and he's just an amazing guy, he really is. He was all, like, concerned about me and stuff and blah blah saying he'd always be there for me, but neither of us were in the right place for a relationship, blah blah, standard stuff. But, like, you know, he kept his promise. He's a really wonderful person. You're lucky to be his roommate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says. \"I'm getting that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What about you?\" Louis asks. \"Any long lost loves at home?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs quietly. \"No. No.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him carefully. \"Really?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I...\" Zayn shrugs. \"I mean, every gay teenager has their straight crush, right?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah,\" Louis says. \"The best friend? The arsonist?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You see right through me,\" Zayn says, smiling. <br \/><br \/>\"So? Straight best friend?\"<br \/><br \/>It's Zayn's turn to stare out the window, apparently. He watches two people who are horrible at frisbee chase each other around. \"Oh, it was dumb. He was my best friend and I was in love with him? I guess, I don't know. I liked him a lot, anyway. I never said or did anything though so it was just sort of like\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>\"A slow burning ache,\" Louis supplies and Zayn looks over at him quickly.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says, carefully. \"I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>They're silent for a moment, both staring out the window. <br \/><br \/>And then, \"Poetry's so your thing,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a small smile. \"A little bit.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles back. \"I'm gonna beat everything out of you, Tomlinson,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes, still smiling. \"Best be gentle, I'm delicate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sure, princess,\" Zayn says. Then, \"We've not done any work at all.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis surveys their table: his unopened laptop, Zayn's unopened notebook, uncapped pens, unopened books. \"I want a cigarette,\" he says decisively.<br \/><br \/>\"Thank god,\" Zayn breathes.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry and Liam are spread out on Harry's bed when Zayn gets home after he and Louis attempted some halfhearted work on their paper. Harry's got his math textbook open on his lap, and Liam's leant over it, looking exasperated.<br \/><br \/>Harry brightens up as soon as Zayn walks in. \"My saviour!\" he exclaims. <br \/><br \/>Liam groans. \"Harry, come on, you've almost got it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No, no, Zayn's here now! You <i>promised<\/i> we'd stop when he got here,\" Harry says, widening his eyes at Liam. <br \/><br \/>\"Um,\" Zayn says. Liam glares at him. \"Sorry?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Liam cracks, breaking into a grin. \"How was the library with Lou? Did he let you touch his precious poetry anthology? He treats that like it's the word of God.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shakes his head and throws his bag on his desk, collapsing back onto his bed. \"Yeah, no, it was fine.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's eyeing him carefully. \"Do you like him?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Um, yeah? He seems nice, once you, like, get past his entire <i>thing<\/i>,\" Zayn says, well aware he's ignoring the actual question. <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs, shares a look with Liam. Liam says, \"It's okay, you know. We're pretty sure he likes <i>you<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Can we not?\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at Liam again, and Liam nods. \"I'll see you tomorrow, Harry. Have a good night, guys,\" he says, sliding off Harry's bed. <br \/><br \/>\"Night, Li,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>\"Night,\" Zayn echoes, and once Liam leaves, he says to Harry, \"I really don't want to have this talk.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says. \"I do, though.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Is this where you tell me to treat him right or you'll break my legs? Is this some '40s gangster film?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"No, this is just, like, sort of, like. I mean. If you're actually not into him you should tell me.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn turns over on his side, facing Harry. \"Why? Like, regardless, why does it matter to <i>you<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip. \"Because I'd need to break it to Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Still not understanding,\" Zayn says.<br \/><br \/>Harry sighs. \"He's like. Really fragile about this shit. And I'm sure I didn't help with that. But then, like, all this stuff with Aiden, too, it's just. He's kind of a mess.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says. \"I'm getting that. Who's Aiden?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Just this guy, I don't know. Louis was really into him, and it was good for a minute, because like, he hasn't really shown interest in other humans since\u2013\" Harry pauses, blushing. <br \/><br \/>Zayn smirks. \"You can say it without sounding like a dick, don't worry.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"Yeah, whatever, okay, since me. But yeah, no, I don't know, Aiden was all aloof and artsy and mysterious and quiet and pretty and everything Louis likes, right, and so they kind of started seeing each other? And Louis did that thing that he does where he gets in too deep and then it turns out Aiden is fucking the art teacher. So.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn makes a sympathetic noise into the air. \"Sucks,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Yep,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Zayn's quiet for a moment, and then he says, \"So that's Louis's type, huh?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins over at him knowingly. \"Good news?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Zayn says, smiling back. \"What should I do?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shrugs. \"That part really isn't my business.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Don't you give me that <i>now<\/i>, asshole,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Alright, alright. Um, I don't know. Kiss his nasty cigarette-y mouth with your nasty cigarette-y mouth? Hold his nasty cigarette-y hand with your nasty cigarette-y hand?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're legitimately the worst at this,\" Zayn groans. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs again. \"He's easy, when it comes down to it. He's just pretending not to be.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn just shakes his head. \"I'm telling him you called him easy.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>When Zayn gets up on Sunday, Harry's gone. He makes his way down to the dining hall, preparing himself to face the hell of the line by himself. <br \/><br \/>Except, in the corner table, a small figure is huddled around a cup of coffee. Zayn veers away from the food and walks toward him. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances up as he gets closer. He smiles and his eyes are tired. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Zayn nods, and sinks down across from him. \"Alright?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Get your food, I'll be here.\"<br \/><br \/>So he does, filling his plate up for two, and when he gets back, Louis has another cup of coffee. Zayn hands him a fork and pushes his plate to the middle of the table, between them. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles down at the table, stabbing at a chunk of scrambled egg. \"Thanks,\" he says quietly.<br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Zayn says. \"Where is everyone?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks, and then says, \"Oh, I forgot how very new you are. It's a town day. On Sundays, you can get up at buttfuck o'clock and pile in the van to go into town and spend the day there. It's a big deal. Sorry no one told you.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \"What's there to do in town?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis chuckles. \"Girls.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Zayn says, nodding. \"I was wondering about that whole thing.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"Niall's got a girl in town, Liam's apparently trying to talk to her friend, and Harry's not picky.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs a little. \"Of course. And you don't go?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"I'd rather be alone here than alone there, I guess. Harry gets me cigarettes, and that's really the only reason I'd go.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Excuse you, dick, but you're not alone,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis grins at him over the steam of his coffee. \"Right. Right.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn finishes eating and drops his plate on the conveyor belt to the kitchen. \"Smoke?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, and they start walking out toward the forest. Their hands brush and Zayn smiles to himself, lets it happen again.<br \/><br \/>They smoke three cigarettes and Louis annoys Zayn into talking about art. <br \/><br \/>\"Do you have a favourite artist?\" Louis asks. <br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs, flicking his ash. \"Yeah,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis just looks at him. <br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"I don't know. I like the Renaissance. I like the Impressionists.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"Have you ever been to the Frick?\"<br \/><br \/>\"That's in the city?\" Zayn asks. Louis nods. \"No, but I want to. Always wanted to see the Polish Rider.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him for a moment, before smiling at the ground. \"That's my absolute favourite painting. We should go when we have a jailbreak weekend.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Zayn says, and he reaches out his hand to touch Louis's. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances up sharply, fingers twitching away. <br \/><br \/>Zayn blushes. \"Sorry. I \u2013 sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks up at the tops of the trees, brushing the sky. He takes a deep breath. \"No, I just...\"<br \/><br \/>\"Have to be careful,\" Zayn finishes. <br \/><br \/>Louis meets his eyes, nods. <br \/><br \/>Zayn just shrugs, takes another drag. \"It's fine.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis purses his lips and grinds his cigarette out on the tree behind him. He plucks Zayn's from his fingers and puts that out too. <br \/><br \/>\"Let's go to my room. We can hang out,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs again. \"Sure.\"<br \/><br \/>It turns out that <i>hanging out<\/i> means killing a bottle of whiskey Louis has hidden under his bed. Zayn doesn't mind. <br \/><br \/>\"Who's your roommate?\" Zayn asks, after awhile, feeling lazy and warm, slumped on Louis's bed.<br \/><br \/>Louis glances over to the other side of the room, decorated gaudily with women in various phases of becoming nude. He snorts. \"This guy Nathan. A douchebag, essentially.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods slowly. \"I see that. I like your side, though.\" Louis's half of the room has a string of postcards from all over the world hanging over his bed and a few band posters. The main attraction is a rather cliche print of Van Gogh's Starry Night. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"It's weird, I guess,\" he says. \"Like, I don't think I really have a <i>home<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs and rolls over onto his side, so his eyes are level with Louis's. \"Tell me what happened.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis's gaze traces over Zayn's face. He feels it burn into his jawline, his cheekbones. Louis says, \"I was dating my mother's best friend's daughter. It was one of those, like, expected things. Like, we were basically promised to each other since we were born, or whatever. Expected to be married by twenty five. An old money match, I guess you could say.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods. <br \/><br \/>Louis continues, \"So we were doing that, and like, I <i>knew<\/i>, right, like I knew it was never going to happen. I mean, it was fine, because she was all about saving herself and everything. A very, very good girl. But I think she knew, too. Something about how I held my wrists, or something.\" Louis rolls his eyes. \"But, anyway, at her, like, debutante bullshit or whatever, my mother and her mother walked into her brother's bedroom. Where her brother and I were caught in a very compromising situation.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shit,\" Zayn breathes.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"So everyone \u2013 <i>everyone<\/i>, because the entirety of northern California's socialite circle was present \u2013 found out in a very grand fashion. I mean, I came out with a bang, I suppose. But, yeah, very embarrassing for everyone involved. Don't think my parents have looked me in the eye since. They've definitely been ostracized from their elite little club, which just about killed my mother.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Giant loss,\" Zayn snorts.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, smirking. \"I don't know. I had a choice, right, to stay there and <i>clean up my mess<\/i>, whatever that means, or come here. But it wasn't really a choice, because my father said he wouldn't tolerate such disgusting lifestyle choices in his house. So. I came here.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well,\" Zayn says. \"Can't say I'm too sad about that.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just looks at him, kind of softly, kind of scared. He doesn't say anything. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says, in response to nothing. \"Yeah, Lou, I'm gonna kiss you, alright?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis exhales into the space between them. \"You gotta be sure, Zayn. Just. Please be sure.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods firmly and brings his hand up to cup Louis's cheek, tracing the sharp cut of his cheekbones. \"It'll be okay,\" he whispers. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and Zayn leans in, pressing his lips dryly to Louis's. He studies Louis's face, and Louis's eyelashes flutter as he opens his eyes. Zayn raises his eyebrows and Louis nods, so Zayn leans back in, capturing Louis's lower lip into his mouth, sucking lightly, letting his tongue brush against it minutely. Louis leans into it, then, letting his hand cup Zayn's hip tentatively. <br \/><br \/>\"It's okay,\" Zayn whispers against Louis's mouth, feeling it part under his words. He presses in, turning the kiss from something chaste and hesitant into something decidedly dirtier, and Louis reacts more, pushing his hand up Zayn's shirt, walking his fingers up the ridges of Zayn's ribs. Zayn leans into the touch, rolling to fit his body tighter to Louis's, pressed together on their sides. <br \/><br \/>They stay like that for a few minutes, letting the kiss run its course until they're lazily making out, not moving towards anything further. Louis pulls back first, eyes downcast. \"What's this going to be? Drunken making out or what? I have to know right now.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn blinks. \"Whatever you want it to be. I like to hold hands, though,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis's lips quirk up. \"Where did you even <i>come from<\/i>?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn just smiles up at him. \"You're the one who insists upon lighting two cigarettes at once, like you think you're goddamn Marlon Brando.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis's eyes crinkle at the corners. \"I coulda had class,\" he slurs, leaning back in to catch Zayn's lips again. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>They spend the day in Louis's room, kissing and watching stupid movies \u2013 <i>no, really, Sex Drive is the pinnacle film of our generation<\/i> \u2013\u00a0until Harry texts Louis, demanding them down for dinner. <br \/><br \/>Zayn grabs Louis's hand once he's done locking his door behind him and Louis just smiles up at him through his eyelashes. <br \/><br \/>Zayn keeps ahold of Louis's hand all the way to the table where Liam, Niall, and Harry are staring at them, much like the entirety of the dining hall. <br \/><br \/>\"Please, no photos,\" Louis quips as they sit down. <br \/><br \/>Harry just smiles at Zayn and wraps an arm around Louis, tilting their heads together briefly before pressing a kiss to Louis's hair. Louis rolls his eyes and shoves Harry off, but meets his eyes and Zayn watches them have a silent conversation. <br \/><br \/>Niall says, \"Today was a great day. You two stopped being idiots, Harry got laid, I got laid, and \u2013 get this \u2013 our Liam got laid!\"<br \/><br \/>\"What?!\" Louis gasps. <br \/><br \/>Liam focuses very, very intently on the orange he's peeling, while his ears turn bright red. <br \/><br \/>\"The real question,\" Louis continues, \"is how long did it last? More than four minutes, Li? Please tell me more than four minutes.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shut up,\" Zayn says, kicking at Louis's ankle. <br \/><br \/>Louis just smiles back at him, eyes sparkling. He hooks his ankle around Zayn's leg and holds it there, while Niall changes the subject to talk at length about how the fantastic sandwich he had in town. <br \/><br \/>As they're cleaning up their plates, Liam sits up and looks Louis in the eye. \"It actually lasted for ten minutes, Louis Tomlinson.\"<br \/><br \/>The entire dining hall stares at their table as the five of them dissolve into helpless laughter.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>When Zayn gets to his US History class on Monday morning, his desk smells of permanent marker. <br \/><br \/><i>L+<s>H<\/s> <s>A<\/s> Z<\/i>, it reads.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:10651","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/10651.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=10651"}}],"title":"we took the slow way (lt\/hs, zm\/lp)","published":"2012-09-08T23:15:21Z","updated":"2012-10-04T23:31:39Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: we took the slow way<br \/><b>pairings(s)<\/b>: louis tomlinson\/harry styles, liam payne\/zayn malik<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~16,000<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. liam and louis teach kindergarten and harry styles has a kid and zayn is a dj and it's all very complicated for various reasons.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: a few things: a) this was written despite severe writer's block, so there's a warning right there. b) this has been a long time coming. c) i love you all so much it's crazy. d) huge thanks to the numerous people who have read over the first half of this, seriously. <br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>Louis stumbles out of his bedroom at 6:30 in the morning. He\u2019s wearing khakis and a button-up shirt and a skinny tie and he\u2019s pretty sure he looks fantastic. <br \/><br \/>Zayn\u2019s inexplicably sprawled on the couch watching early morning cartoons as Louis walks to the kitchen. <br \/><br \/>\u201cYou\u2019re up early,\u201d Louis comments. <br \/><br \/>Zayn arches his neck back to see Louis. \u201cHaven\u2019t actually gone to bed yet. Come here, let me look at you.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and smiles a little, but comes over and stands in front of the television. Zayn\u2019s eyes roam over his body appraisingly. He nods shortly, then some sort of realisation dawns on his face. <br \/><br \/>\u201cAre you and Liam having another competition about how many moms hit on you?\u201d Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis gives him an appalled look. \u201cZayn Malik! That would be <i>entirely inappropriate<\/i>!\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn\u2019s looking distinctly unimpressed. \u201cLiam\u2019s going to win.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cWhat? No, he\u2019s not. Impossible. I am <i>dashing<\/i>. How could you say that?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \u201cHe\u2019s hotter.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cImpossible,\u201d Louis says again. \u201cYou\u2019re just trying to wound me now.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cYou also give off a distinct vibe, dude,\u201d Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis brightens. \u201cYes! I know. A dashing and handsome and rugged and sexy vibe.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cI was thinking more of a <i>gentleman of the back door<\/i> kind of vibe.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \u201cYou desperately need some sensitivity training,\u201d he says, as he starts again for the kitchen. <br \/><br \/>\u201cYeah,\u201d Zayn calls after him. \u201cYou know me, always just hating on the gays.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cIt\u2019s despicable and I feel unsafe around you!\u201d Louis pours himself coffee and a bowl of cheerios. When did he become a grown-up? He\u2019s pretty sure he\u2019s not a grown-up. He\u2019s pretty sure he hangs out with five and six year olds all day. He\u2019s pretty sure he\u2019s basically one of them. <br \/><br \/>Becoming a kindergarten teacher was never a <i>goal<\/i> of Louis\u2019s. It just kind of happened. Things always just kind of happen. It kind of <i>happened<\/i> that after three years of an English degree at the University of Manchester, Louis stumbled onto an application to the University of Washington\u2019s early childhood development program, and it just kind of happened that he qualified for some scholarships, and it just kind of happened that his mum approved, and it just kind of happened that he met some California stoner named Zayn, and it just kind of happened that they moved in with each other. <br \/><br \/>So, now he\u2019s a kindergarten teacher at this intensely upper-class, intensely private elementary-middle school in Seattle and he\u2019s wearing khakis daily and going to bed at a reasonable time and only drinking on weekends. He wakes up at 6 o\u2019clock in the morning and he has cheerios for breakfast and he keeps up to date on current events and he shaves regularly. He drives a Toyota Corolla and he has more than twenty dollars in his checking account and it\u2019s all very strange and foreign. He has no idea how he ended up here. The last five years were kind of a blur and when he thinks of all his mates back in Doncaster, working in the factories and the distribution centres, he cringes. Louis gets paid to hang out with five and six year olds all day. He kind of loves it. <br \/><br \/>\u201cZayn?\u201d Louis says, loud enough to be heard over the television. <br \/><br \/>Zayn jerks a little, grunts. \u201cWhat.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cAm I boring?\u201d he asks, swirling his spoon in his cheerios. They aren\u2019t even honey-nut cheerios. Just boring, extra-fibre, low cholesterol cheerios. <br \/><br \/>\u201cThe boringest,\u201d Zayn says. \u201cThe absolute most boring of all the borings. You might as well kill yourself. You used to be fun.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cI\u2019m still fun!\u201d Louis protests. <br \/><br \/>Zayn turns on the couch around to stare at Louis, sitting at the counter. \u201cYou didn\u2019t come out last Friday because you wanted to <i>finish your book<\/i>, dude.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \u201cWe can\u2019t all be DJs.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn snorts. \u201cYou will not believe the looks I get when I tell people my roommate\u2019s a kindergarten teacher.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little. \u201cYeah, well, telling people I live with the DJ at the Crocodile helps my street cred, so thanks for that,\u201d he says.<br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at him suspiciously. \u201cWhy the fuck do you need <i>street cred<\/i>? Who on earth are you telling that to? The housewives who drop their bundles of joy off every day?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cNo, christ, I might get fired for that.\u201d Louis stands and pours the rest of his milk into the sink. <br \/><br \/>Zayn flips off the TV, stands and stretches. \u201cI should probably crash. It\u2019s the first day today, yeah?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis nods and ducks his head into the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror. \u201cSeptember first, how idyllic.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cWell, good luck. Talk slowly so the babies can understand you. Don\u2019t cry when Liam screws all the hot moms.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis scoffs. \u201cLiam is about as likely to pull any mom as I am. He just looks straighter. Bastard.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cYeah, whatever. Slip him my number, would you?\u201d Zayn smacks Louis on the arse as he walks by, heading to his bedroom. <br \/><br \/>\u201cNot in one million years,\u201d Louis says after him. \u201cHe\u2019s too good for you. You\u2019ll corrupt him.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cSpeaking of corruption, shouldn\u2019t you be leaving?\u201d<br \/><br \/>It\u2019s 7:15. \u201cShit, yeah, see you, mate.\u201d Louis grabs his bag and keys and heads out to his alarmingly sensible car that will take him to his alarmingly sensible job. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Liam sticks his head in Louis\u2019s classroom as he\u2019s setting out nametags on the desks. There\u2019s always a sort of nervous excitement surrounding the first week of school \u2013 all the new faces and new school supplies and new personalities and new friends and Louis really loves to watch it all happen; Louis loves to be a part of it. <br \/><br \/>\u201cHey, did you check your roster, Lou?\u201d Liam says.<br \/><br \/>Louis looks over at him with an eyebrow quirked. \u201cNo, I haven\u2019t. I\u2019m actually <i>entirely incompetent<\/i>, are you just now realising this?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam rolls his eyes. \u201cLook at the last names. Particularly the S\u2019s. Then think back to whatever teenybop posters you had on your bedroom wall when you were fifteen.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis goes over to his desks and pulls out the sheet with the list of all his students. He looks down to the S\u2019s. \u201cHang on,\u201d he says slowly. He glances up at Liam. <br \/><br \/>Liam\u2019s nodding, with a smirk on his face. <br \/><br \/>\u201c<i>Styles<\/i>?\u201d Louis says. \u201cAs in...\u201d <br \/><br \/>Liam\u2019s still nodding. \u201cYou\u2019re such a lucky fucking bastard.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis is still staring at him blankly. \u201cAre you telling me I have <i>Harry Styles\u2019<\/i> son in my class?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cMaybe we should extend this competition to the dads as well, yeah?\u201d Liam says. <br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \u201cI think <i>that<\/i> might get us in trouble.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam laughs. \u201cProbably, yeah.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cFuck, Li.\u201d Louis is laughing a little at himself. \u201cI had such a massive crush on Harry Styles when I was a teenager. Like, he was <i>it<\/i>, you know? How cliche is that, right? Realising you\u2019re gay through an <i>X-Factor<\/i> finalist?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Smiling fondly, Liam says, \u201cWell, hopefully this won\u2019t ruin all your memories. I\u2019m sure he\u2019s a nice guy. What\u2019s he been doing lately? The pop career kind of fizzled when he turned twenty or so, didn\u2019t it?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \u201cApparently he\u2019s been up to <i>something<\/i>. Got a kid out of it and everything.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cWell, he\u2019s only twenty fiveish, right? Wear tighter pants, man. He was a <i>popstar<\/i>, I\u2019m sure he swings both ways.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \u201cGod, you and Zayn are just full of stereotypes this morning.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cZayn? What\u2019d Zayn say?\u201d Liam goes a little red. <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \u201cSomething about how you look straighter and more manly and handsome than I do. He\u2019s clearly blind, anyway.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam\u2019s full-on blushing now. \u201cHe thinks I\u2019m straight?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Laughing, Louis shakes his head. \u201cI\u2019m not getting in the middle of this. Get out, kids are gonna be piling in here in a few minutes.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cWait!\u201d Liam protests. \u201cMake sure he knows I\u2019m not straight!\u201d <br \/><br \/>\u201cGet <i>out<\/i>, Payne. Go flirt with mums.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Five minutes after Liam goes to his own classroom, and ten minutes before the first bell is due to ring, there\u2019s a tentative knock on Louis\u2019s door. Louis looks up from the whiteboard where he\u2019s meticulously writing a greeting full of exclamation points, to see two nervous faces peering at him from the doorway \u2013 one about three feet off the ground and pale and the other about six feet off the ground and entirely fucking recognisable. <br \/><br \/>Louis sets down the marker and says, \u201cHello! Welcome! I\u2019m Mr. Tomlinson!\u201d He squats down to be at the boy\u2019s level. \u201cYou must be Jakob,\u201d he says. <br \/><br \/>The boy smiles shyly and nods before turning his face into his dad\u2019s hip. Louis glances up to see Harry \u2013 <i>Harry Styles<\/i> \u2013 smiling down at Jakob ruefully.<br \/><br \/>\u201cJake, why don\u2019t you go try to find your seat, hm? I bet it has your name on it.\u201d Harry nudges Jakob a little with his thigh and Jakob hesitantly steps away from his dad\u2019s body and towards the desk, shooting a nervous look at Louis. Louis smiles at him encouragingly. \u201cIf you need any help, let me know,\u201d he says.<br \/><br \/>Straightening up, Louis extends his hand to Harry. \u201cHi. Louis Tomlinson,\u201d he says, trying so hard not to regress to whatever pathetic teenage behaviour is threatening to come out. He might explode into a burst of rainbow flames, honestly. This is so fucking surreal. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him curiously. \u201cHarry Styles. Can I ask \u2013 where are you from?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis glances at the ground and then up at Harry through his eyelashes. \u201cYorkshire. I probably shouldn\u2019t try to pretend I wasn\u2019t obsessed with you when I was a kid, right?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry blushes a little, but laughs. \u201cI mean, you <i>could<\/i>. Yorkshire, huh. You\u2019re a long way from home.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \u201cSo are you.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry nods and gives Louis another look, before running his hand through his fringe. \u201cSo, I\u2019m sorry we\u2019re early. I\u2019ve got a meeting and I wanted to meet you before having to rush off. He\u2019s a good kid, a little shy, but he\u2019ll be fine. You\u2019ll be fine, won\u2019t you, Jake?\u201d he calls over to his son, who is unpacking his folders and pencils into his desk very diligently, lower lip pulled into his mouth. He looks up at Harry\u2019s voice. <br \/><br \/>\u201cYeah, Dad. Won\u2019t set anything on fire,\u201d he says monotonously, as if reciting something he\u2019s heard a million times. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs kind of proudly and Louis tries not to laugh as well. \u201cAlright, champ, your mum\u2019s going to pick you up, okay? I\u2019ll see you later. I love you. Be good, have fun, don\u2019t cause trouble,\u201d he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry waves goodbye and blows a kiss to Jakob, before shaking Louis\u2019s hand again and giving him a little smile. \u201cI\u2019m sure we\u2019ll meet again, Louis Tomlinson from Yorkshire,\u201d he says with a wink. <br \/><br \/>Louis valiantly succeeds at not choking on his tongue and gives Harry a slightly manic grin. \u201cWould assume so, Harry Styles from TigerBeat magazine.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Harry bursts into a loud shout of laughter and promptly looks shocked at himself. He shakes his head at Louis and backs out of the classroom. <br \/><br \/>It\u2019s not that Louis is pleased, it\u2019s more that he\u2019s <i>completely fucking ecstatic<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The day goes as smoothly as any first day ever does. There are a few tears, a few breakdowns, but nothing Louis can\u2019t smooth over with some jokes and gentle reassurance. <br \/><br \/>At lunch, Louis meets up with Liam in the teachers' lounge. <br \/><br \/>\u201cSo,\u201d Louis says.<br \/><br \/>Liam looks amused. \u201cSo,\u201d he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis glances around the room to make sure no one else is listening and then slumps his shoulders, giving Liam the beaming grin he\u2019s been keeping in for four hours. \u201cHe\u2019s <i>lovely<\/i>.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam laughs. \u201cOh my god, you look like you\u2019re twelve.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cI <i>feel<\/i> like it, mate! God, he was just, like, gorgeous. Only more grown up and legal and handsome and, god. I think he\u2019s married? But I can still look. Oh my god. He was wearing these skinny jeans and this loose-neck teeshirt and this peacoat and hightops and oh my <i>god<\/i>, Liam, I\u2019m twelve.\u201d Louis buries his face in his hands. <br \/><br \/>Liam reaches over and pats his knee. \u201cYou\u2019re so cute.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Sitting up straighter, Louis shakes himself. \u201cI need to, like, get ahold of myself if I\u2019m going to see him every day. He winked at me, did I tell you that? Oh my god.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201c<i>Louis<\/i>,\u201d Liam laughs. \u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him blankly. \u201cWhat do you mean? Nothing! He\u2019s married? He\u2019s a parent? I\u2019m just going to get some sparkly pens to go with my sparkly diary and dot my i\u2019s with hearts. Perfectly sane, normal things for a twenty seven year old man.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam shrugs. \u201cHe might not be married. You could test the water!\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cLiam,\u201d Louis says, leveling him a look. \u201cIf the tables were turned here, and I was telling <i>you<\/i> to hit on a parent, what would you say?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam considers this. \u201cAlright. Fair point. So what\u2019s your tally so far?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles down at his sandwich. \u201cSeven. You?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam makes a frustrated noise. \u201cThree. So many <i>dads<\/i> this morning. With wedding rings.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cTough luck, mate.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cIf you were wearing your suspenders, I\u2019m sure you\u2019d have less.\u201d Liam takes a bite of his bagel and gets cream cheese on his chin. Louis smirks. <br \/><br \/>\u201cAre you saying I\u2019m less sexy in braces? Because I can list plenty of people who would beg to differ.\u201d <br \/><br \/>Liam smiles. \u201cNever. Just saying it might send a different sort of message.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cYou\u2019re awful.\u201d Louis glances at the clock. \u201cWe have to go in a minute. Storytime next! Been practicing my monster voice all summer.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam shakes his head. \u201cYou\u2019re going to get so many nightmare complaints.\u201d<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Zayn\u2019s sprawled out on the couch again when Louis gets home at 4:30. He\u2019s staring rather blankly at the television, which is on the ABC Family channel. Full House is blaring, inexplicably. The living room smells like weed.<br \/><br \/><br \/>\u201cYou\u2019re a sad excuse for a man,\u201d Louis says, standing above him. <br \/><br \/>Zayn\u2019s eyes flicker over to Louis. \u201cHow\u2019d it go? You swear in front of the babies? Kill any of them?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis plops down next to Zayn and pulls his legs up underneath him. \u201cIt was fine. I have <i>Harry Styles\u2019<\/i> son in my class, though.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn arches an eyebrow. \u201cIs that supposed to mean anything to me?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cHarry Styles!\u201d Louis repeats, shocked. \u201cWas he not a big deal over here? Liam knew of him and Liam\u2019s from <i>Vermont<\/i>!\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cWell, Liam\u2019s weird,\u201d Zayn says kind of fondly. \u201cWho\u2019s this guy, then?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cHe came in second on X-Factor when he was just a kid, right? And he was so adorable and cute and then he became this massive popstar in the UK for awhile, I don\u2019t know. He made me gay.\u201d Louis sighs dramatically.<br \/><br \/>Zayn lets out a sharp laugh. \u201cOh, so <i>he\u2019s<\/i> who we\u2019re to thank, then? Not your spectacular genes or whatever?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles over at him. \u201cWell, maybe partially that.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cSo, anyway, what about this guy?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cHis son\u2019s in my class! It\u2019s like. So unbelievable? I met teenage-me\u2019s idol today? And I managed to, like, actually stay in control of myself? I\u2019m shell-shocked, mate.\u201d Louis leans over and puts his head on Zayn\u2019s thigh, wordlessly asking for petting. Zayn obliges. <br \/><br \/>\u201cAre you, like, okay?\u201d Zayn asks. \u201cShould I be worried about your mental state or anything?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \u201cNo, no. He\u2019s just gorgeous and perfect and everything I\u2019ve ever wanted. But I\u2019ll live. His probable-wife is some skinny, blonde, hipster thing, I don\u2019t know. Pretty. God, I haven\u2019t been laid in so long, Zayn.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn chuckles a little, winding his hand through Louis\u2019s fringe. \u201cAre you asking or telling?\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cDepends what the answer is,\u201d Louis says, smiling up at him. <br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes and leans down to press a kiss to Louis\u2019s lips. \u201cAs if you don\u2019t know.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis reaches up into Zayn\u2019s hair, guiding their mouths together clumsily, before pulling back to say, \u201cWait. Let\u2019s go to my bedroom. Can\u2019t do this in front of Mary-Kate and Ashley.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn groans but pushes himself off the couch. \u201cYou\u2019re such a <i>teacher<\/i>, dude.\u201d<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next day, Louis puts on slightly tighter trousers, a slightly tighter shirt, and braces. Zayn whistles at him from Louis\u2019s bed as Louis gets dressed. <br \/><br \/>\u201cThought you weren\u2019t supposed to go after dads?\u201d Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis cuts him a sharp look. \u201cI\u2019m quite sure I don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn snorts. \u201cUh huh.\u201d <br \/><br \/>They\u2019re quiet for awhile as Louis does his hair, and then Zayn says softly, \u201cSeriously, Lou, you look good. I hope you know what you\u2019re doing.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis glances at him in the mirror, naked but for the sheet over his hips. \u201cI\u2019m not doing anything. I just. I\u2019m not going to do anything, really. I just want to feel good about myself, at least, alright?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Zayn closes his eyes and shakes his head a little, smiling to himself. \u201cYou\u2019re so crazy, babe. Have a good day.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis doesn\u2019t kiss Zayn goodbye, because that\u2019s not something they do, but he gives him a fond look and reminds him to empty the dishwasher. Louis goes to the kitchen and eats a sensible breakfast and gets in his sensible car and goes to his sensible job. <br \/><br \/>He sticks his head into Liam\u2019s classroom as he arrives, cocking his hip in the doorway. Liam takes one look at him and bursts out laughing. <br \/><br \/>\u201cI\u2019ll be pulling ahead in the mom tally today, dude, but you might get some experimental dads,\u201d he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \u201cStill not part of the game.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cNo,\u201d Liam agrees. \u201cPlus, you\u2019re only after one dad.\u201d<br \/><br \/>\u201cI\u2019m not after anyone!\u201d Louis protests. \u201cI just wanted to look presentable, is that such a crime?\u201d<br \/><br \/>Liam smirks. \u201cYou do have trouble with that.\u201d<br \/><br \/>Louis gives Liam a quick roll of his eyes and a smile and goes back to his own classroom. His room faces the morning sun and gives the entire space a sort of glow he associates with children's movies about coming of age and, like, boys and their dogs. The hardwood floor shines with the summer break from dirty sneakers and spilled juice and Louis sits behind his desk and smiles. He's got a stack of new picture books and he's going to try to teach kids to read some words today. This is the kind of thing that sticks with him; he loves to play with kids, and he's ace at pretending he's a dinosaur or a lava monster, but the little things \u2013 the things he gets to teach kids that build foundations for the rest of their lives, is what keeps him motivated here. Louis doesn't remember who taught him how to tie his shoes, but someone did. Louis doesn't remember who taught him what sound the letter B makes, but someone did, and that someone shaped his entire education, just by teaching him the alphabet. For nine months out of the year, for twenty three kids, Louis gets to be that person. They might not remember him in twenty years, but he's making an impact. <br \/><br \/>The sound of two little feet dashing into his door, makes Louis look up from the worksheets he's sorting. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi, Mr. Tomlinson!\" Jakob Styles says breathlessly, running over to his little desk and sort of cowering behind it. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, Jake,\" Louis says, smiling. \"Let's remember to walk inside, okay?\" <br \/><br \/>Jakob nods at him, wide-eyed, before his eyes go back to the door immediately. <br \/><br \/>Suddenly, there are massive roars coming from the hallway \u2013 dinosaur roars, if Louis isn't horribly mistaken \u2013\u00a0and Jakob bursts into nervous giggles, twitching and huddling even further under his desk. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't tell him I'm in here!\" he whispers to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis winks at him. \"If he eats me first, I'm gonna be upset!\"<br \/><br \/>And then, suddenly, Harry Styles is filling up his doorway, body puffed up with his dinosaur-persona. He looks around the room and, finding it deceptively empty, looks at  Louis. Harry immediately drops his arms and flushes bright red. <br \/><br \/>\"Um. Good morning,\" Harry says, shoving his hands in his pockets and feigning nonchalance. He leans against the doorjam and whistles a little bit.<br \/><br \/>Louis raises his eyebrows in massive amusement. \"Good morning.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Haven't seen a little terror running around, have you?\" Harry's eyes are twinkling and he is clearly trying very hard to resist looking over at the squirming boy hiding under his desk. <br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs and gives Harry his most innocent look. \"I'm all alone, mate. Dunno what to tell you.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry quirks an eyebrow and says, \"Are you, now,\" but quickly purses his lips and shouts, \"Ah! I've found you!\" and dinosaur-stomps over to where Jakob's laughing madly into his hands. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't eat me, Daddy, I'm too skinny! Eat Mr. Tomlinson instead!\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oi!\" Louis exclaims, before bursting into laughter himself. <br \/><br \/>Harry grabs Jakob under his arms and swings him into the air before giving him a quick kiss on the head and plopping him back into his chair. \"I love you, buddy, I'll see you this afternoon, yeah? Be good.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Bye, Daddy!\" Jakob calls after him. <br \/><br \/>Harry gives Louis a wink and a nod as he passes by Louis's desk. \"Probably would rather eat you, anyway,\" he says quietly through a grin. <br \/><br \/>Louis stares after him with his mouth open, any sort of comeback evaporating before formation. Which is maybe for the best, because there's a <i>child present<\/i>. Christ.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>As all the kindergarten classes are lining up by the parking lot for pickup, Louis grabs Liam's arm and whispers urgently, \"I've got to talk to you.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam gives him a look that's half amusement and half exasperation. \"Give me a ride home?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes, sees the manipulation tactic for what it is \u2013 Liam lives way across the city \u2013 but he nods anyway and starts checking off his kids as their parents pull up in their Lexus hybrids or what the fuck ever. <br \/><br \/>Jakob's the last one left and he sits quietly next to Louis as they wait in the nearly-deserted parking lot. <br \/><br \/>Louis nudges Jakob with his elbow. \"You liking school so far?\" he asks. <br \/><br \/>Jakob nods. \"I like recess. We get candy if we kick a homerun in kickball! Dylan and Thomas always let me kick homeruns because they know I like candy a lot.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Anything else you like?\"<br \/><br \/>Tilting his head as if considering this, Jakob nods. \"Lunch,\" he says, firmly. <br \/><br \/>Louis chuckles ruefully. \"A boy after my own heart,\" he says. \"Do you have a favourite sport to play?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Baseball!\" Jakob yells. \"I love baseball. My grandpa always takes me to Mariners games and he bought me my own glove for my fifth birthday this year! It's so cool, it smells like real baseball things and I can fit it on my head like a hat!\" <br \/><br \/>Louis leans down and whispers close to Jakob. \"D'you wanna hear a secret?\"<br \/><br \/>Jakob nods furiously. <br \/><br \/>\"I don't understand baseball at all,\" Louis continues. \"Never been able to get it.\"<br \/><br \/>Jakob sighs, all five year old frustration. \"Neither does my daddy. He only wants to watch soccer. All day! He just sits and watches <i>boring<\/i> soccer! And he gets all mad about it and won't play video games with me if the red team loses.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites back a smile. \"See, I think your daddy and I would get along.\"<br \/><br \/>Jakob looks up, then, and scans the parking lot. \"There he is!\" He jumps up and takes off running, leaving his backpack on the bench next to Louis. Louis picks it up and walks hesitantly over to where Harry has grabbed his son mid-sprint and is now swinging him around in wide circles. <br \/><br \/>\"Did you have a good day, buddy?\" Louis hears Harry ask. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah! I kicked two homeruns at recess and I got <i>two pieces of candy<\/i>! I gave one to Laura though,\" Jakob tells Harry excitedly. <br \/><br \/>Harry raises his eyebrows and glances up at Louis. \"Laura, huh? Did she like it?\"<br \/><br \/>Jakob blushes and shrugs, kicking at the blacktop with his toe. \"I dunno. She's pretty.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and musses up Jakob's hair. \"Go get in the car, kid. I'm just gonna say hi to Mr. Tomlinson.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry walks over to Louis and takes Jakob's backpack from him. \"Are you teaching my kid to pick up birds?\" he asks, teasingly. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Really doubt he'd get that from me, mate,\" he says. Harry's quiet for a moment and Louis looks up at him, kind of nervously. \"I mean,\" he starts again, but doesn't really know where to go from there. <br \/><br \/>Harry's smiling, and he shakes his head. \"I'm sort of relieved,\" he says, and <i>okay<\/i>, Louis doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. \"Anyway,\" Harry goes on, \"I'm really sorry I'm late. I got caught up in some work stuff and Kristin's busy today. Hopefully this won't be a regular thing.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis waves off the apology. \"No worries. Jake and I got to know each other a little bit. Big baseball fan, eh?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"It breaks my heart, really. I do everything I can to get him to appreciate some footie and he'd rather watch old fat guys stand around and only hit a ball a third of the time. On a good day!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"My roommate's the same way, only with American football. Did you know the ball's only in play for <i>ten minutes<\/i> of a three hour game? Who the hell wants to watch that?\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head. \"This country, mate, I'm just not sure. Hey, we should catch a match sometime. Be nice to watch with someone who's over the age of six and not whining the entire time.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well, I can guarantee I'm over six, but the whining part really depends on who you want to watch,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip. \"Liverpool versus Man United's coming up in two weeks. Regardless of who you support, that'll be a good one.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis quirks his eyebrow. \"Let's be real, it'll only be good for the United supporters,\" he says. \"But I'm a huge United supporter, so let's do it.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins at him. \"Check the attitude at the door, mate. It's Liverpool's year, I can feel it.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"Take your kid and your awful taste home.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Have a good afternoon, Louis. We'll see you tomorrow morning.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis waves goodbye to Jakob in the car and turns back to the school. He goes straight to Liam's classroom. <br \/><br \/>\"Li, I've accidentally got a major problem,\" he groans. <br \/><br \/>Liam looks up from his papers. \"I could have told you that as soon as I saw the name, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Wanna come over for drinks with me and Zayn?\" Louis says, putting on his most pathetic expression. <br \/><br \/>Liam looks skeptical. \"It's Tuesday.\"<br \/><br \/>\"But I'm having a <i>crisis<\/i>!\" Louis whines. <br \/><br \/>\"Fine,\" Liam says. \"Zayn will be there?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shoots Liam a dark look. \"I'm not feeling your sympathy, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam smiles. \"You ready to go?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, just gotta grab my bag. Meet me at the car, I'll be out in a minute.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Zayn!\" Louis yells as he unlocks the door to their flat. \"Zayn, I've brought you a present!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis!\" Liam hisses from behind him. Louis grins. <br \/><br \/>\"Wha'?\" Zayn says, stumbling out of his bedroom, wearing pajama pants and not much else. He freezes as he looks up at Louis and Liam.<br \/><br \/>Louis can <i>feel<\/i> the blushes radiating from either side of him. <br \/><br \/>\"Drinks?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Zayn blinks a bit and focuses on Louis. \"It's Tuesday?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I may be boring, Zayn, but I'm not <i>dead<\/i>,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Liam jumps in. \"Louis is accidentally in love.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods slowly. \"Oh yes, the popstar. I forgot.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis trudges into the kitchen and digs around for some vodka and tonic water. \"He wants to watch football together,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Zayn and Liam have matching confused expressions. \"Someone willingly wants to watch the Seahawks this season?\" Liam asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"<i>Soccer<\/i>, whatever, I need better friends.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam narrows his eyes. \"He asked you to watch soccer with him? Are you going to?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis measures out shots into three glasses and dumps some tonic over them, then turns around and hands them to Liam and Zayn. \"Yes? I think so? I mean, that's not necessarily dangerous, right? We could just go to a pub downtown or something.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn takes a pull of his drink and makes a considering noise. \"Does he know you're gay?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Um.\" Louis blushes. \"I maybe dropped some pretty massive hints.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs. \"You're so typical.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam shakes his head. \"Be careful, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>\"He's married! If we could all remember this, that'd help me out a lot.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Does he wear a wedding ring?\" Zayn asks. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Louis says, moving to the living room. Liam and Zayn follow him. \"But a lot of couples don't these days? Or they, like, wear them on necklaces or something, I don't know. We're going to assume he's married so I don't lose my fucking mind, yeah?\" He sits on the armchair next to the couch and pulls his legs underneath him. Liam hesitantly sits on the couch and Zayn plops down beside him, a little closer than is strictly necessary. Liam looks incredibly tense, Louis notices. <br \/><br \/>\"What if he makes a move anyway?\" Zayn says.<br \/><br \/>Liam's eyebrows raise and he looks at Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis stares at both of them. \"Can we not do this? I'm not going to sleep with anyone who's married or probably married and he's a <i>parent<\/i>, okay.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles evilly. \"He's not <i>your<\/i> parent, though, and that's the only thing that would stop the Louis Tomlinson I used to know.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam chokes. \"Good to know you had boundaries, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and takes a long drink. \"I hate you both. Let's talk about all the sexual tension in this room instead, how about?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn raises an eyebrow and says nothing, but Liam looks down into his glass. \"Let's not and said we did,\" he says.  <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and sends a silent <i>sorry<\/i> to Zayn, who looks a little hurt, but shakes it off pretty quickly. He reaches for the remote and says, \"I think there's a game on.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis groans. The Mariners are playing Oakland and he fucking hates baseball. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry and Jakob arrive early again the next day. Louis glances up from his desk as they walk in and arches an eyebrow. \"Should I just start class fifteen minutes early?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry chuckles. \"Hey, I'm just trying to keep you on your toes. Make you feel younger, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You mean by incessantly reminding me of how pathetic I was ten years ago?\" Louis says with a smile. <br \/><br \/>Shrugging, Harry just grins. \"So, hey, give me your number. I was serious about the football. Haven't got any mates from the homeland around here.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis looks down at his hands, stalling for time. \"How did you end up here, anyway? I mean, Seattle of all places? Really?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry glances back to Jakob, who's got out some little action figures and arranging them in a battle formation. \"All of Jake's family is around here, and I don't wanna mess with that. I like it. Gets a bit lonely, but I manage. Have to travel for work anyway, and it's nice to be able to come home to a kid and all. What about you, though? You're a mystery.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs lightly. \"I'm really not. Went to uni in Manchester, got into teaching over there, and an advisor told me about the University of Washington's early childhood program, so I applied and somehow it all worked out. I can't even pretend to understand it, really. But here I am.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Here you are,\" he repeats. \"So, about that phone number...\" <br \/><br \/>Louis tries to hide his cringe. \"I \u2013 okay. I'm pretty sure I'm really not supposed to do this, but I do want to see your face when United smash the Scousers this weekend.\" He pulls out a scrap piece of paper and scribbles down his number, quickly. <br \/><br \/>Harry takes it from him with a wink. \"I won't tell anyone.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and gives Harry a small smile. Other kids are starting to show up and the room is steadily getting louder and louder. Harry gives him another wink and backs away from Louis's desk. \"I'll text you,\" he says to Louis, and turns to leave. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Zayn\u2019s not at the flat when Louis gets home from school. Louis takes the prime opportunity to turn the television to Fox Soccer Channel and curl up on the couch in front of Sky Sports News. Robin Van Persie\u2019s will-he-won\u2019t-he drama unfolds and Louis leans back and closes his eyes. <br \/><br \/>Louis has never regretted the decisions he\u2019s made. He loves his job and he loves his friends and he loves Seattle and he loves the States and he\u2019s generally content. There\u2019s not one thing he\u2019d change about his life, really. He\u2019d love his mum and sisters to be closer, but, well. Sacrifices were made, and Louis tries to fly home when he has enough time and money. He\u2019s fine. <br \/><br \/>It\u2019s just, like. <br \/><br \/>He\u2019s just <i>lonely<\/i>, is the thing. And it\u2019s not like he\u2019s <i>alone<\/i> \u2013 he has Zayn. He loves Zayn. He\u2019s loved Zayn since Zayn approached him on red square outside Suzzallo Library, stoned out of his mind, complimenting Louis\u2019s shoes. There had been a playful tilt to Zayn\u2019s head, one Louis recognised whenever he hesitantly complimented another man, and Louis had smiled immediately. They got lunch, they went to the Henry Art Gallery across campus, and they immediately became good friends. Who occasionally fucked. <br \/><br \/>What\u2019s never made sense to Louis is how it never became a <i>thing<\/i> between them. It wasn\u2019t unspoken and it wasn\u2019t awkward and it wasn\u2019t serious and there was nothing but overwhelming love between them. No jealousy, no need for the <i>relationship<\/i> talk, and no need for even a friends-with-benefits talk. They just fit in a way that they never questioned. When they were alone together, they sometimes had a drink, they sometimes got high, they sometimes watched a movie, they sometimes had sex. And up until Louis had gained the stability of his current job, Zayn was the only constant in his life. He relied on Zayn for comfort, and Zayn provided that any way he could, in any way Louis needed. <br \/><br \/>But they never fell in love. And that surprises Louis, too. He loves Zayn more than anyone, honestly, in such a familial and adoring and unconditional way that it makes him a little uncomfortable \u2013 they sometimes joke that they might be brothers, and immediately pull faces and scoot apart, only to bounce right back into each other like rubber bands. But there\u2019s never been an <i>in love<\/i> feeling, there\u2019s never been anything Louis could point to and say, hey, look, we belong together. He slept with Zayn sometimes, he loved Zayn all of the time, and they were both just biding their time. <br \/><br \/>Liam was an anomaly to Louis. He was Louis\u2019s welcome wagon on his first day at the Bush School, and when Louis met him, there was an such an intensity about him, such a serious demeanour, that Louis was put off. He thought, <i>well, this guy is going to hate me once he gets to know me<\/i>. But it didn\u2019t work quite that way \u2013 Liam had this shy little smile that started coming out two hours after Louis cracked his first joke, and slowly, slowly, slowly, over the course of two years, expanded to stretch across his face. He laughingly agreed to be dragged along to bars on Fridays for Happy Hour and he laughingly agreed to come to Zayn\u2019s first show at the Crocodile \u2013 <i>my roommate\u2019s so nervous, it\u2019s so cute, you have to come, we\u2019ll be his only fans<\/i> \u2013 and then he not-so-laughingly met Zayn and. <br \/><br \/>Well, that\u2019s about it. He met Zayn and got shy again and Louis worried they\u2019d hate each other and Zayn looked at Liam with wide eyes and talked with a stutter for the rest of the night and smoked an entire pack of Marb Lites and Louis worried, because, like. If Zayn doesn\u2019t like someone, Louis doesn\u2019t need them in his life. And Louis liked Liam. He confronted Zayn about it, after a few weeks, and that turned into Louis grappling Zayn into a headlock until he choked out, \u201cGod, I don\u2019t know, he\u2019s so fucking <i>cute<\/i>,\u201d and that was that. Louis could keep Liam around. <br \/><br \/>The couch that Louis is slumped into vibrates, suddenly, and Louis\u2019s eyes fly open. He gropes for his pocket, only to find it empty, so he digs his fingers into the cracks between the cushions, coming up with at least enough change for a bus fair, Zayn\u2019s medical marijuana license, a travel pipe, and several condom wrappers. <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. They seem to be perpetual college students, regardless of their ages. <br \/><br \/>Eventually his phone turns up. He has a missed text from an unrecognised number. His stomach clenches because his stomach is stupid and presumptive. Louis frowns down at it, then hits \u2018accept\u2019 on his phone. <br \/><br \/><i>louis from Yorkshire! its harry from tigerbeat. if the mancs get van persie i might cry<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and types out, <i>figured you'd be happy he's leaving the gunners, actually<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Not ten seconds later, Louis's phone is vibrating again, but this time with a phone call.<br \/><br \/>\"Hello?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"I'd be happier if he fucked off to Germany,\" Harry says with a grin in his voice. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little. \"Did you hear they're getting Cazorla? Arsene actually made a bloody move for once. Shocked, honestly.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry groans. \"I don't want to talk about this, I get upset.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fair enough.\" Louis stares at the TV without taking anything in. \"Are you so bored on a Wednesday night that you called your son's <i>teacher<\/i>? The life of a popstar really is not what I've imagined.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry huffs out a small laugh. \"I'm in my jimjams eating toast at seven in the evening, mate. Glamourous life, like.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Don't you have a child to take care of, Harry Styles? Am I going to have to worry about the poor boy's home life?\" Louis says teasingly. <br \/><br \/>\"He <i>should<\/i> be tied up outside. Actually I should check on him, the leash sometimes comes undone.\" Harry's chewing his toast across the connection. Louis makes a face. Harry continues after swallowing, \"Nah, though, Kristin took him out for dinner. I've had a long week and whinged till I got some pity.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hums a little in his throat, for lack of anything to say. \"I met Kristin the other day. Very lovely.\" God, that was inane and obvious. Louis hates himself, a little. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says, crunching into another bite of toast. \"Yeah, she's great. Got lucky there.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says faintly. He bites his lip. \"Hey, look, my flatmate just got home, so I should go, but let me know about the match, yeah? Sounds fun.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Will do, mate. Have a nice night and all.\" Harry hangs up first. <br \/><br \/>Louis sits on the couch in his empty flat and stares at the television.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/10337.html\" target=\"_blank\">part two<\/a>.<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:10337","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/10337.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=10337"}}],"title":"we took the slow way (lt\/hs, zm\/lp)","published":"2012-09-08T23:14:46Z","updated":"2012-09-09T07:36:37Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<br \/><a href=\"\" target=\"_blank\">part one<\/a>.<br \/><blockquote><blockquote><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis spends the week jittery with nerves, unable to reconcile the apparent <i>innocence<\/i> of hanging out with Harry with his own undeniable attraction to him, and on top of Zayn and Liam's teasing, by the time Sunday comes, he's a veritable wreck. <br \/><br \/>The match is at two o'clock in the afternoon UK time, and Louis somehow manages to make it to Harry's gorgeous house on the water by six in the morning. <br \/><br \/>\"I hope you realise,\" Louis says, after Harry pulls his front door open, \"that you've made me wake up earlier than I do on a weekday.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smirks and motions Louis inside. \"Ah, yes, but what amazing company you have at this awful hour, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis arches an eyebrow. \"I dunno, mate. I've spent time around Liverpool fans in the past and it's never been pleasant.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You, my friend,\" Harry says, leading Louis to a room which seems to have the sole purpose of housing the <i>biggest television Louis has ever seen<\/i>, \"are severely underestimating the sheer level of horrible you Mancs exude.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis furrows his brow as he settles into the squishy leather couch opposite the TV. \"I...\" he starts, frowning. \"Fuck, it's way too early for this. We're gonna win and you're gonna cry and Michael Owen is going to score seventeen goals on the Kop End.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry snorts. \"I'd like to see him try. Seeing as he plays for Stoke now.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh. Shit, you're right,\" Louis says. \"Big loss for all. Rooney, then. He's an Everton boy.\" <br \/><br \/>By halftime, Louis's head has found its way onto Harry's shoulder and Harry's arm is casually slung over the back of the couch, framing Louis's body. Louis shifts a little, making a small noise. <br \/><br \/>\"Jesus, what's this couch made of? Sinking sand?\" he grumbles, punching a little at Harry's tricep, as if to fluff it up like a pillow.<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little, jostling Louis's head. \"Feels a bit like it, innit. I wind up sleeping down here more nights than not.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis swallows and shoves that thought out of his mind. The match is even at 0-0 at the half, with United threatening and Liverpool just barely holding on. <br \/><br \/>\"You lot are pathetic,\" Louis mumbles. <br \/><br \/>Harry exhales sharply. \"I know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I mean, really, really pathetic,\" Louis says.<br \/><br \/>\"I <i>know<\/i>,\" Harry says. \"I don't want to talk about it.\"<br \/><br \/>They stare at the FSC pundits who know fuck-all about football for a few quiet seconds, before Louis pulls himself up to sit straighter, cracking his back. He glances at his phone and sees it's almost seven in the morning. <br \/><br \/>\"Where's Jake?\" he asks. \"My experience with five year olds is that by seven, they're either dead or they're awake.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry grins, shaking his head and laughing a little. \"You're not wrong there, but now I'm worried about your experience with dead five year olds? But Kristin's got him for the weekend. We don't really have a set schedule.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis's mouth goes dry. \"I \u2013 oh. Um. You're not married?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry leans back slightly and turns to look fully at Louis. \"No,\" he says slowly. \"We're not.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right.\" Louis nods and stares straight ahead, watching the swirling graphics flit across the screen. <br \/><br \/>\"Um. Is that... okay?\" Harry asks, confused. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks rapidly before pasting on a smile and glancing at Harry. \"Of course! Why would I care? It's great you guys seem to have such a drama-free arrangement.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says back, still sounding slightly bemused. \"Yeah, I mean. We were both so young and it was never meant to \u2013 I mean, you know? I, um, didn't even really remember her until she called me up two months later, you know? So, yeah, I mean, it really worked out for the best.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis allows himself a smirk and a quick slap to Harry's knee. \"I sincerely hope that's not the story you've told Jake, mate. Class as hell, that is.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry lets out a barking laugh. \"Shut up. My life was sincerely weird for awhile.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"I believe it. You made <i>my<\/i> life sincerely weird, I tell you what.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh?\" Harry asks, curious. <br \/><br \/>And, wow, that <i>really<\/i> wasn't where Louis meant to steer this conversation. He blames it on the hour and the dizzy, sort of punch-drunk haze of <i>he's not married<\/i> Louis is currently floating through. Shit.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says, laughing, and embarrassed as fuck. \"I mean. Um? This might have just gotten really awkward.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No, no,\" says Harry, smiling kind of knowingly. \"Tell me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I may have, um,\" Louis starts, blushing, \"come to a few, um, <i>conclusions<\/i> during your season of X-Factor.\"<br \/><br \/>And with that, Harry's eyes widen comically and his face splits open as he bursts into laughter, doubling over. Louis rolls his eyes and laughs a little, too, really unsure where this is going.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sorry,\" Harry gasps. \"I'm not laughing at you, I promise.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sure, sure,\" Louis grumbles. \"Sure you're not.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No, no, no,\" Harry says, still laughing. \"I promise I'm not. I'm just imagining <i>you<\/i> at sixteen and <i>me<\/i> at fourteen or whatever and just. I was such an awkward little shit, mate, and, just. <i>You<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Me what?\" Louis asks. \"What does that even mean?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him, eyes twinkling, and lets his gaze blatantly roam Louis's body. Louis blushes even more, if that's possible. <br \/><br \/>\"I just mean, like, it's hard for me to imagine what <i>you<\/i> could have seen in <i>me<\/i>.\" Harry winks. <br \/><br \/>Louis opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Like a bloody fish. \"I\u2013\" he says, pathetically, before closing his mouth to restart. \"Harry Styles, are you <i>hitting on sixteen-year-old me?<\/i>\" he says finally, incredulous. <br \/><br \/>Harry just gives him another beaming grin and says, \"Oh, look. The match is on.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis just shakes his head, face still burning. <br \/><br \/>It ends up being 3-0 in United's favour, and Harry grumbles through making a proper English fry-up for breakfast, while Louis sits on the counter, recounting Rooney's hattrick play by play. <br \/><br \/>After they eat, Harry walks Louis to his car and leans against it. \"You're the worst,\" he says. \"I have no idea why I let you into my home.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"Apparently because you want into my sixteen-year-old trousers.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry widens his eyes. \"Your trousers are sixteen years old? That's... frankly disgusting.\"<br \/><br \/>Huffing a laugh, Louis unlocks his door. \"Thanks for this. It was a lot of fun,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Harry bites his lip and looks hesitant. \"Yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis raises his eyebrows expectantly.<br \/><br \/>Harry glances at his feet and then back up, before saying, \"Would you, um. Like to go out for dinner sometime?\"<br \/><br \/>Now Louis is the one to look down, studying his keys in his hand. \"I\u2013\" he starts, and trails off. \"I mean, <i>yes<\/i>, Harry, of course, but,\" he scrunches his face up, frustrated, \"it might not be the best idea?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry kind of smiles ruefully. \"No, I know. I was expecting you to say that. It's fine. But let's hang out, yeah? I'll suffer through some more United shitshows, even.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"That's <i>awful<\/i> big of you, Mr. Styles.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry winks. \"Drive safe. I'll see you soon.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis gets home to find Zayn awake, sprawled on the couch, smelling of weed and whiskey, watching Adventure Time. <br \/><br \/>\"Seriously,\" Louis says, kicking Zayn's thigh. \"How old are you?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn groans. \"Quiet, peasant. The king has a headache.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"You live a rough life.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I do,\" Zayn agrees. He cracks an eye open in Louis's direction. \"So how'd your little date go?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blushes and bites his lip, before kicking off his shoes and curling up next to Zayn. \"He asked me out.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles a little and punches Louis in the thigh. \"I knew it. I <i>knew it<\/i>. You said yes, right? Liam's gonna owe me ten dollars.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You <i>bet<\/i> on this?\" Louis asks. \"You two are the worst. And no, I didn't say yes.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Excuse me?\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"I <i>can't<\/i>, Zayn. Like. It's not <i>forbidden<\/i> or whatever, but it's severely frowned upon and I can't imagine what the board would say if they found out, you know? It'd maybe be different if I were straight, but.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn frowns. \"How, exactly, would that be different, Louis?\"<br \/><br \/>\"No, shut up, I mean. It would look different to them, you know? This kind of shit matters to their <i>image<\/i> or what the fuck ever.\" Louis rubs his hands over his face. It's only nine in the morning and he's already knackered. <br \/><br \/>\"That's bullshit and you know it,\" Zayn says shortly.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not going to argue this, alright? I'm not saying it's fair or right, but it's how it is and I don't want to lose my job.\" <br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at Louis and his face softens. \"Okay, dude. Alright. I'm sorry, for what it's worth.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"Yeah, me too.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs heavily and turns off the television. \"I need some sleep.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods, unfolding himself from Zayn and standing up. <br \/><br \/>Zayn holds out his hands for Louis to pull him up and says, \"Want to come?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Depends on what you mean by that,\" Louis says, quirking an eyebrow.<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Come <i>sleep<\/i>,\" he clarifies.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says softly. \"Thanks, Zayner.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn keeps ahold of Louis's hand and leads them back to his room, pulling them both under the covers. \"It'll be okay, Lou,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"No, I know,\" Louis responds. \"It just sucks sometimes.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Zayn wraps his arms around Louis's middle, spooning up around him, and rubs his hands over Louis's ribs. They fall asleep that way. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>September fades into October and the Pacific Northwest's personal brand of damp chill starts to set in as Louis gets to know his class and starts settling into a comfortable routine. He hangs out with Liam during lunch and recess in the teachers' lounge, he hangs out with Zayn in the evenings, and he falls into the habit of meeting up with Harry every weekend to watch the football. <br \/><br \/>He comes back to the flat around lunchtime after spending the morning with Harry and he's a confusing mix of content, sad, frustrated, and giddy. <br \/><br \/>Zayn always gives him this <i>look<\/i>. \"Is it pathetic that we fuck each other when it's clear we'd both rather be fucking someone else?\" Zayn finally says one Saturday afternoon, laying back on the couch with his jeans undone and his voice still rough.<br \/><br \/>Louis pauses in the middle of making a sandwich. \"I \u2013 okay, wow, Zayner, don't hold back.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Zayn sighs. \"I mean, come on. This is sort of miserable, don't you think?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flinches. \"Well, we can stop if you're <i>miserable<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not talking about me, Lou,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm not miserable.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis, come on. Just go out with him. Explain the situation, tell him you have to keep it super down-low, and just enjoy it for awhile.\" Zayn walks up behind Louis at the counter and wraps his arms around his stomach. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"No, it's fine. We're friends and it's good and there's nothing to worry about.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou...\" Zayn says, sighing again.<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis snaps, turning around in Zayn's arms. \"What about you, then, Mr. High and Mighty? Ask Liam out if you're pining so hard.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn glances away. \"I have.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Louis asks, shocked. \"What? How did I not know about this.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \"It was around the time you first started seeing the popstar?\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>What<\/i>?\" Louis says again. <br \/><br \/>Zayn pulls away and runs a hand through his hair. \"He said no, anyway. So it's whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis. It's fine.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis tries to school his face into something other than pure confusion, but it doesn't work very well. \"No, it's not. He <i>likes you<\/i>. It's like. No. Okay, no. He does. It's been said explicitly in his own words.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn glances out the window above the sink. He shrugs. \"Well. Then I don't know.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What the <i>fuck<\/i>,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't say anything to him, Lou,\" Zayn pleads. \"It's not a big deal. It's fine.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis narrows his eyes, then visibly deflates. He turns back to his sandwich and chuckles ruefully. \"We are kind of miserable, maybe.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn leans back in and rests his chin on Louis's shoulder, rubbing his hands over Louis's sides. \"Maybe. At least I've got you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"Don't try to flatter me after shoving me into a pit of depression, you monster.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs a little. \"Sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis lets it go for awhile, but he can't shake the feeling of <i>change<\/i>. He and Zayn are changing and it's not... good. They used to fuck for fun, to feel good, to take the edge off an exciting or stressful day. And now it's become a desperate thing, a sad sort of clinging onto affection, and it's not fun. It's rougher and harder and too regular for either of them. It's starting to feel cheap, and Louis knows he's not the only one feeling this way. He sees Zayn's sad expressions, after, when they're laying in bed, not speaking. He feels the resigned, apologetic drag of fingers across his cheekbones. It's not good. <br \/><br \/>It's the first Monday in November. There are fifteen minutes before the first bell. Louis quickly walks down the hall to Liam's classroom. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, could I have a word?\" Louis says, uncharacteristically hesitant. <br \/><br \/>Liam glances up. \"Course, Lou, what'd'ya need?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pauses and licks his lips, toes the ground with his shoe. \"I was just wondering, um. Why you won't go out with Zayn?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam's eyebrows furrow. \"Um...\" he says, shuffling the papers on his desk. \"It's not\u2013? Like. I want to? But?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks at him flatly. \"But what?\"<br \/><br \/>\"It seems sort of \u2013 awkward?\" Liam shrugs, looking nervous. <br \/><br \/>\"Because I live with him?\" Louis asks. <br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Liam says. \"Not really. Just. Like. I know how you two are and I don't really want to, like, get in the middle of that?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks. \"I... what do you mean?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam looks down at his hands. \"Louis, come on. I'm not stupid.\"<br \/><br \/>\"But, Liam,\" Louis says, \"it's really not like that. It's really, really, really not like that. It's just, like. We're not like that.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam smiles kind of wryly. \"But it <i>is<\/i> like that, Louis, whatever that means. I really like him, but I'm not going to be your competition when it matters, Lou, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis scrapes his fingers through his hair. \"Liam \u2013 fuck, I have to go in a second, but seriously. We fuck cos we're lonely, okay? That's literally it. It's not because we've got unresolved <i>whatever<\/i>. We fuck 'cos he likes you and you shot him down and I'm just. There. And just as lonely. Okay? So if I'm the only thing that's stopping this, then please, please reconsider. He's <i>sad<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam exhales heavily and looks up at Louis with wide eyes. \"Lou...\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"I have to go,\" Louis responds quickly. \"But. Just. Think about it, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam nods and Louis gives him a tight smile back, before backing out of his room to his own classroom. <br \/><br \/>As he walks in, he sees two heads of dark curly hair poking out from behind his desk, along with muffled <i>shhh<\/i> sounds. <br \/><br \/>Louis tries in vain to hide the laughter in his voice as he says loudly into the <i>apparently<\/i> empty room, \"Gosh, I am just <i>so excited<\/i> to sit down at my desk.\"<br \/><br \/>There's a muffled giggle, now. <br \/><br \/>Exaggerating his footsteps as loud as he can, Louis walks slowly toward his desk. <br \/><br \/>\"SURPRISE!!!\" Jakob screams as he gets closer, popping up from behind his chair. <br \/><br \/>Louis grabs at his chest and staggers back. \"Oh my goodness, what is this?\" he exclaims. <br \/><br \/>Harry pops up, now, grinning and grabbing Jakob into a headlock. \"Jake,\" Harry stage-whispers, \"I think we've given Mr. Tomlinson a heart attack.\"<br \/><br \/>Jake giggles uncontrollably, before gasping, \"Oh no! Don't die, Mr. Tomlinson. My daddy would be sad!\" <br \/><br \/>Louis bites at his cheek to stop a smile spreading across his face. \"I'll try not to, buddy. Did you guys have a good weekend?\"<br \/><br \/>Jake nods quickly, exploding into an involved story involving his mum and their new puppy and his grandpa getting his shoes eaten. Harry widens his eyes and jerks his head at his son, exasperated, motioning to Louis that he's heard the story about six hundred times. <br \/><br \/>Louis hides his grin and oohs and ahhs at all the right moments in Jake's story. \"That's hilarious, dude,\" he says. \"Maybe you can tell the class during Sharing, what do you think?\"<br \/><br \/>Jake's expression lights up. \"Yes! I brought a picture of him, too! His name's Focus! Isn't he cute!?\" He runs over to Louis, pulling a printed photo out of his pocket. <br \/><br \/>Ruffling Jake's hair, Louis agrees, \"Yeah, Jake, he's cute. Go ahead and grab your seat, okay? Everyone's gonna start showing up soon.\"<br \/><br \/>Jake runs off to his desk, pulling a big book of dinosaurs out of his backpack. <br \/><br \/>Louis strolls over closer to his desk, to Harry. Harry grins down at him. \"He's gonna be kind of off the walls today,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Today<\/i>?\" Louis asks, arching an eyebrow. \"Have you ever met your son?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, ducking his head to peer up at Louis through his fringe. \"Fair enough.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head with a smile. \"So, parent-teacher conferences are coming up,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Should I be worried?\" Harry asks, grinning. <br \/><br \/>\"No, no,\" Louis says, elbowing Harry in the ribs. \"We haven't posted the schedule yet, but. Yours is next Monday.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods, then pauses, eyebrows coming together. \"Shit \u2013 ah, sorry, I mean, shoot. But, um, Kristin's going to be out of town on Monday. Should I reschedule, or is just me okay, or...?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" Louis says. \"I mean, that's up to you two. Talk to her about it. Rescheduling shouldn't be a problem, but \u2013 full disclosure \u2013 there's not going to be anything earth-shattering to talk about. You've got a good kid.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's lips curl up into a small, private smile. \"Yeah. Okay. I'll let you know. And, you know. Thanks,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and feels his cheeks heat up. \"Of course.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next day, Liam shows up to Louis's classroom before the bell. He stands in the doorway, looking nervous. Louis feels his face soften.<br \/><br \/>\"Li,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Liam shakes his head. \"No, I just wanted \u2013 I'm sorry. About yesterday. And Zayn. Maybe... Maybe we can all get drinks on Friday? You, me, Zayn, and... maybe Harry? If you wanted?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles a little. \"Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be good. I'll talk to Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>\"And Harry,\" Liam supplies, giving Louis a look.<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Liam...\"<br \/><br \/>\"Come on, Louis. You deserve this, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head slightly, not disagreeing, but not agreeing. \"I'll ask Harry <i>as friends<\/i>, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam just looks at him kind of sadly, but nods all the same, and ducks out just as the bell goes. <br \/><br \/>When Louis gets home that afternoon, Zayn's in the kitchen talking loudly on his mobile. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm <i>fine<\/i>, Mom. No \u2013 stop it.\" He's leaning against the fridge, staring at the ceiling in frustration. <br \/><br \/>Louis pinches his side and Zayn jumps, before rolling his eyes, pulling a face and gesturing to the phone. Louis grins. <br \/><br \/>\"No, Mom, ugh. I have enough money, yes. Jesus. Sorry. Okay. Louis just walked in, here, say hi, I know you love him better anyway.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis scoffs, but takes the phone. \"Hi, Mrs. Malik,\" he says, listening to her explode in his ear with concerns over Zayn. \"Yes, ma'am. I'll make sure. Yes. Okay. No problem. Yes. Love you, too. Have a good evening. Say hi to the girls. Okay. Yes. Goodbye. He loves you.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn groans as Louis hangs up. \"God,\" he says. \"She thinks I'm, like, starving and naked on the street or something.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flicks him on the rib. \"Well. You are mostly naked in my kitchen, for what it's worth.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Zayn says, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers. \"How was your day?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fine,\" Louis says. \"So, hey, Liam wants to go out for drinks with us on Friday.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn pauses, then straightens up. \"Does he.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah. Zayn. Look, I think he knows he made a mistake, okay? So just. Let's see what happens, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn purses his lips. \"Fine. Whatever. You should invite your popstar.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"I feel like I'm tied to a tree in a witch-hunt, honestly.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Text him right now, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and pulls out his phone. \"What do I even say?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn levels him a <i>you're a fucking idiot<\/i> look. \"Say, hey, mate, my friends and I are going out for drinks on Friday, you should come.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh.\" Louis blinks. \"Yeah, I can do that.\" He types quickly into his phone. <br \/><br \/>Zayn ruffles his hair. \"I recorded Champions League for you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis raises his eyebrows and wraps Zayn in a crushing hug. \"I knew I loved you for a reason.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Zayn grumbles. \"Barcelona beat a team from Hungary in a shocking upset.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Fuck you. Wanna watch?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn sighs, wrapping his arms around Louis. They cuddle together on the couch and at the twenty-first minute, Zayn sighs again. <br \/><br \/>\"Thanks, by the way,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"For what?\" Louis asks distractedly. <br \/><br \/>\"I know you must have talked to Liam.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles kind of sadly and curls into Zayn more. \"You deserve it, you know,\" he says, echoing the sentiment he's heard a few too many times. <br \/><br \/>Zayn just rubs his back and Louis's phone buzzes in the crease of the couch.<br \/><br \/><i>sounds brill, can't wait x<\/i><br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Friday afternoon, Liam and Louis agree to meet at the Hopvine Pub on Capitol Hill at eight, and Louis rushes home as soon as his kids are all accounted for, texting Harry the time and place. <br \/><br \/>\"Zayn,\" he yells as he bursts into the flat. \"Zayn!\" <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" comes a muffled yell from the other bedroom. Louis opens the door. <br \/><br \/>\"What do I wear?\" they say at the exact same time. <br \/><br \/>They stare at each other, before bursting into laughter. <br \/><br \/>\"I hate us,\" Louis says, still laughing. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, me too,\" Zayn says back. \"You should wear your dark maroon pants. The tight ones. Your ass-jeans.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Fine, okay, you should wear your black trousers with, ummm, that one button-up you never wear.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not wearing a fucking button-up, you asshole,\" Zayn snaps. <br \/><br \/>\"Zayn,\" Louis says. \"It's <i>Liam<\/i>. He's going to be wearing a fucking sweater-vest for all we know.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"Fine. Fine. But I'm not buttoning it all the way to the neck. You should wear that one white shirt. The Shirt of Death.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I have no idea what you're talking about,\" Louis says primly. <br \/><br \/>\"Yes, you fucking do. The shirt that gets you laid. The collarbone shirt,\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"We're going to look like proper sluts.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn just winks. \"Throwback to college, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Liam and Harry are already at the pub when Zayn and Louis get there. They wave them over and push two pints at them. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says, sliding into the booth next to Harry. \"Sorry we're...\" he glances at his phone, \"...right on time, you twats.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam and Harry smirk. <br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"So,\" he says to Harry. \"You must be the popstar I've heard all about. I'm Zayn, Lou's roommate.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry extends his hand over the table. \"Yeah,\" he says, chuckling a little, embarrassed. \"I guess I am. You can call me Harry, though.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Zayn says. \"So what do you do now, Harry?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry takes a long drink of his beer. \"I mostly do some producing for Sub Pop up here. I do some stuff down in LA, too. But, yeah, mostly some stuff for smaller labels up here. Nothing major.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods. \"Who have you worked with? I DJ down at the Crocodile.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, cool!\" Harry says, eyebrows raising excitedly. Louis and Liam exchange a look. \"I've worked with Beach House, Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses, Rogue Wave, The Head and the Heart, and Ugly Casanova a bit.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn leans in, interested now, and Harry and Zayn start talking music intensely on their side of the table. <br \/><br \/>\"So,\" Louis says to Liam. <br \/><br \/>Liam grins. \"Well.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little. \"Ready for conferences?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Liam says, \"I've got that girl, Rebecca, you know? I'm sure you've heard of her, anyway, she\u2013\"<br \/><br \/>Louis cuts him off. \"Okay, nope, sorry. We're not doing this on Friday night. Nope.\" He kicks Zayn's ankle and elbows Harry.<br \/><br \/>\"You two need to talk to us because I refuse to talk about work,\" Louis says loudly to them. \"God, how old are we?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs and slings his arm over the back of the booth, scooting closer to Louis. \"Alright, love, how was your day?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes, and lets the conversation flow between the four of them. He keeps an eye on Liam and Zayn as their heads get closer and closer as they down more and more pints. He ignores the fact the same thing is happening to him and Harry. <br \/><br \/>Around eleven, Liam claims exhaustion and Louis agrees. Zayn sighs and shakes his head, but slides out of the booth all the same. They walk out of the club in pairs and Liam tugs Zayn off to the side into the darkness. <br \/><br \/>Harry turns to look at Louis, leaning up against the side of the building. <br \/><br \/>\"This was fun,\" Harry says, smiling. <br \/><br \/>Louis nods, biting his lip, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes. <br \/><br \/>Harry glances down the street quickly, before turning back. \"Can I... I mean. I don't want to, like, cross any lines here. But I'd really like to kiss you, Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and loves the way the lights of the streetlamps cast a glow around Harry's head, how his face is in shadows but his smile is still shining. \"Yeah. Yeah, Harry, me too.\" He reaches up and tugs a little on Harry's hair before letting his hands settle on Harry's neck. <br \/><br \/>Harry's own hands close around Louis's hips and he ducks down, pressing his lips quickly to Louis's. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay?\" Harry asks.<br \/><br \/>Louis just nods, and tugs him in again. Harry steps closer, pushing him farther against the brick of the building, deepening the kiss, parting their lips and pressing their bodies together. <br \/><br \/>After a couple of minutes, Louis hears a distinct cough from somewhere behind Harry. He pushes lightly on Harry's shoulder and peers around, seeing Zayn standing alone, arching an eyebrow in their direction. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm about to head home, Lou. Sorry to interrupt, but do you want a ride?\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and slumps back against the wall. \"Yeah, Zayner. Thanks.\" He looks back at Harry. \"I should go,\" he says softly, carding his fingers through Harry's fringe.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry whispers, still staring down at Louis's lips. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles. \"<i>Really<\/i>,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says again. \"You should really go.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"I'll see you Monday. For the conference.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right.\" Harry's still staring down at him. \"Right. Yes. Great. Brilliant. See you Monday.\" He pulls back, letting Louis straighten up and slide past him to get to Zayn. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances back, once, and Harry's still standing there, watching them leave.<br \/><br \/>Once he and Zayn are in the car, Louis sighs and runs a hand through his hair. <br \/><br \/>\"So,\" Zayn says. \"So much for standing strong, and all.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Louis says quietly. \"Shit.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Zayn says, stopping jerkily at a red light. \"No, I mean. Fuck. Louis, come on. You need this. You <i>want<\/i> this. It's good. You're hurting absolutely no one, okay? If you think it's really that big of a deal to the school, just keep it quiet for awhile and if it's still there by June, his kid won't be in your class anymore, right?\"<br \/><br \/>\"But.. it's a conflict of interest, isn't it?\" Louis wonders. <br \/><br \/>Zayn snorts. \"It's already a conflict of interest. Whether you resist or not.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" Louis stares out the window at the city passing by. \"Yeah, okay. You're right. I know you're right.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>By the time Harry's conference comes around, it's early evening and the sky is darkening against the yellowing leaves and Louis's head is <i>killing him<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>There's a quiet knock on the door and Louis pulls his head up from his hands. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" he says, smiling shyly. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry says, smiling back. <br \/><br \/>\"So, um.\" Louis fumbles with the papers on his desk. \"Have a seat, please.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry sits down across the desk and folds his hands in front of him, looking carefully professional. Louis can't hide his smirk and Harry's expression folds into a cheeky grin. <br \/><br \/>\"So tell me about Jake,\" Harry prompts, still grinning. <br \/><br \/>Louis laughs lightly. \"Okay, well, he's great. A lot of fun. Really energetic. Hasn't really got a whole lot of patience for the actual learning part of school, but he's also five years old, so that's normal. He's doing brilliantly socially and I know he's dying for a playdate with Laura,\" Louis says, raising an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Yeah, believe me, I've heard that one.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, smiling. \"Yeah. Otherwise, I don't know. Maybe you and Kristin should start working on his handwriting at home? But his spelling and grasp of letters is coming along smoothly. He's definitely got a math-brain, as well. Catches on really quickly.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says. \"It's ridiculous. He's gonna be better than me by third grade. Not that that's saying much, honestly.\"<br \/><br \/>\"So, yeah, you've really got nothing to worry about. He's a great kid, very sharp. Hilarious. He's doing really well,\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Great. That's so good to hear. It's been kind of a rollercoaster, honestly, you know? Because five years ago it was like, boom, I've got a son in a whole different country. And so everything's been kind of trial-and-error, you know? A lot of adjustments for everyone. But I'm glad to hear he's doing well. Everything's coming together nicely.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles down at his desk. \"Yeah. Yeah, it seems that way. You two have done a great job. He's so well-adjusted, considering, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Yeah, I'm so relieved. I've done what I can, but there's still that fear, you know?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis agrees. \"Yeah, I can't imagine.\"<br \/><br \/>They're quiet for a moment. <br \/><br \/>Then, Harry says, hesitantly, \"Louis?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis swallows and looks up into Harry's eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"I know, like, you already said no once, and I don't want to, like, annoy you. But. Would you like to get dinner with me?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis reaches across the desk and tugs at one of Harry's curls. \"Now?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes widen and he starts to smile slowly. \"I mean. If that works for you, sure.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sounds great,\" Louis says honestly. \"Really.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry stands up, then, and rubs his hands on the side of his trousers. \"Brilliant. Um. So.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis feels his eyes crinkle into a smile. \"How does pizza sound?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Perfect.\" He holds out his hand and Louis squeezes it once, then drops it. <br \/><br \/>\"We can't... here,\" Louis says, glancing down apologetically.<br \/><br \/>Harry pauses, then nods seriously. \"No, Louis, that's fine. I get that, believe me.\"<br \/><br \/>They walk out the door of the classroom and Harry says, loudly, \"Thank you so much, Mr. Tomlinson. You won't believe how much Jake raves about you. It was great to talk to you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Shut up, idiot. Let's just go.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next week, Liam and Louis are having lunch together in their corner of the teachers' lounge. <br \/><br \/>\"So. You and Zayn,\" Louis says, waggling his eyebrows. <br \/><br \/>Liam blushes. \"Yeah. No. It's good. Thank you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says. \"I'm just happy for you both.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam's expression turns serious. \"And you, Lou. I mean. I'm happy for you.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Yeah. I mean. It's all new. Let's just. Whatever. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Liam says. \"So, wait, how's the sex?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis drops his sandwich. \"<i>Liam Payne<\/i>!\" he exclaims. \"Are you serious?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam laughs. \"Come on, he's a popstar! Is it different?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You mean, does he burst into song mid-orgasm?\" Louis asks dryly. \"I could ask the same about Zayn.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam arches an eyebrow. Louis blushes. <br \/><br \/>\"I mean,\" Louis starts, flustered.<br \/><br \/>\"Let's just... change the subject,\" Liam says, laughing a little. <br \/><br \/>\"Actually, Li, by the transitive property, you and I have basically fucked,\" Louis says. \"But not really, and now I'm feeling left out. How bout it? I'm sure there's a supply closet we could find. A quickie before class?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shut the fuck up, Tommo.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Two nights before winter break starts, Louis finds himself pressed deep into Harry's quicksand couch. <br \/><br \/>Harry leans over him, hair tickling at Louis's nose as Harry works his mouth up and down Louis's neck. <br \/><br \/>\"What are you doing for your two weeks off?\" Harry murmurs into Louis's skin. <br \/><br \/>Louis runs his hands over Harry's back. \"I'm going home for a week, actually.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Home-home?\" Harry asks. \"Yorkshire?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods, tugging Harry's face up to his own so their lips can meet. \"What about you?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry makes a small non-committal noise against Louis's lips. \"Have to be in LA for a bit,\" he says. \"Might have to go to London, but I don't know yet.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods. \"Let me know if you do.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry doesn't answer, just lets his hands drift down to the fly of Louis's trousers, tugging first the zip, then the rest of the trousers down Louis's thighs, letting Louis kick them off his ankles and pull down Harry's own trousers. <br \/><br \/>\"I might get lost in this fucking couch,\" Louis pants. <br \/><br \/>Harry smirks. \"I'll save you,\" he says, slicking up his fingers and leaning back in for a deep kiss. <br \/><br \/>Afterwards, when they're still sweaty and sticky and breathless, Harry curls around Louis, pulling him in for another quick press of lips. \"You're amazing,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"Means a little less after you've just fucked me, love.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"Whatever. I mean it. Thanks for... compromising your morals, I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis turns to face him, so their chests are pressed together. \"They were compromised as soon as I met you, Haz. Resistance was futile,\" he says in a deep announcer voice.<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs, wrapping his arms around Louis's body to slide up and down his back. \"I have been told I'm irresistible.\"<br \/><br \/>\"By TigerBeat?\" Louis arches an eyebrow. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks mock-concerned. \"Do they not count? Fuck. There goes my self-esteem.\"<br \/><br \/>Eventually Louis has to pull himself out of Harry's arms, out of the sandtrap couch, and slide back into his clothing. Harry stands up, too, and walks him out to his car in a situation that is eerily parallel to the first time they hung out. <br \/><br \/>Harry leans against his car door. \"Seriously, though. I really like you, Louis. Like. A lot.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a questioning look. \"Oh-kay,\" he says slowly. \"Are we fourteen? Are you going to ask me to the dance?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks exasperated. \"I'm trying to be serious! About my feelings! And shit!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay, okay,\" Louis says, rubbing his hand over Harry's ribs. \"I really like you too.\" He bites his lip. \"Like, a lot.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"Okay. Well. Good. If I don't see you over the break... well. Just give me a call when you get back, okay? Or... whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Louis says again. \"Are you alright? You're being kind of strange.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head, hair flopping around. \"No, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just. Glad I met you. And I hope you have a great Christmas. And birthday. And I'll text you. And have a great time with your family. And. Just. Yeah.\" He tugs Louis into his body by Louis's wrist and kisses him one more time, letting his hand drift down to cup Louis's arse. Louis grins against his lips, before pulling back.<br \/><br \/>\"Cheeky,\" he says fondly. Harry winks. <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, smiling. He unlocks his car and opens the door. \"I'll talk to you soon, okay? Have a great holiday. I'll miss you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You, too,\" Harry says, biting his lip. \"Bye.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Bye,\" Louis says, reluctant to leave. <br \/><br \/>Harry pulls a face, realising. \"Look at us. Christ.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"I know, god. I'm embarrassed.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Get out of here, you,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis leans back up for one last kiss, then slams his door finally, driving away. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"So, things are going well with the popstar?\" Zayn asks, flopping belly first onto Louis's bed on the morning of the 23rd as Louis is packing to go home. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"He does have a name. A name that you <i>know<\/i>,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Zayn says. \"It's all good, right?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, smiling to himself. \"Yeah, no, it is. He's lovely.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods. \"Good. You've seemed happier.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"Let's not get all sappy. Even though you're all of the sudden Mr. Christmas Spirit, jesus. Liam has really done a number on you.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs. \"I know, what has happened to us? We've gotten boyfriends and gone all soft, haven't we?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oi! Speak for yourself,\" Louis says. \"I'm still wonderfully cynical, thank you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You wish,\" Zayn says, smirking. \"I've seen you smiling into the distance for no reason. You can't hide from me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I have absolutely never done that,\" Louis protests. <br \/><br \/>\"Uh huh,\" Zayn sounds. \"Sure.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh, whatever,\" Louis says. \"Will you drive me to the airport in an hour?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says, leaning over to mess up Louis's hair. \"Yeah. But let's just be happy for now, okay? Why bother pretending otherwise. Your birthday's tomorrow, Christmas after that, you're seeing your family, you've got a great boyfriend, a good job. Things are good, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and leans into Zayn's hand, still stroking through his fringe. \"Yeah, fine, you win. I'm happy.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn presses a smacking kiss to the top of his head, before crowing, \"I knew it!\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis spends his birthday and Christmas being doted on by his mother and chasing his sisters around the house, teasing them about their boyfriends they blush over incessantly. They go ice-skating and go out for cocoa and Louis can't stop smiling because Zayn's right: his life is amazing and he's with his family and everything is going <i>so well<\/i>. He wants to pinch himself. <br \/><br \/>\"Daze,\" he leans over the couch to nudge his sister, who's sitting on the floor. \"Daisy. Pinch me.\"<br \/><br \/>Daisy looks up at him and wrinkles her nose. \"Why?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Fine, missed your chance.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No!\" Daisy yells, jumping up and leaping on Louis's stomach, pinching him anywhere she can. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay! Okay!\" Louis gasps after some light roughhousing. \"You win!\"<br \/><br \/>Daisy grins, showing all of her teeth. \"Music?\" she asks. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, let's see what's up on Radio 1,\" Louis says. \"Haven't done that in awhile.\"<br \/><br \/>Daisy flips on the radio to the tail end of a Lady GaGa song and Louis rolls his eyes. \"Maybe nothing's different over in the colonies,\" he says dryly. <br \/><br \/>The announcer's voice comes in over the fade-out, \"Up next, our own Harry Styles is back with a new single for the first time in six years! It's called 'Seven Circles' and here it is. Enjoy.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis freezes, staring at the radio as if it could explain further. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou?\" Lottie says from the other side of the couch, behind her laptop. <br \/><br \/>Louis blinks. \"Yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Alright?\" she asks. \"You look like your heart's stopped.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs a little. \"No, no, no. You'll just never believe this, but I know Harry Styles.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What!\" Lottie exclaims. \"No way. Didn't you wank over him for about five years when you were a kid?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"Christ, Lottie.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sorry,\" she says, rolling her eyes. \"But seriously.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"Whatever. Anyway, yeah, he's got a kid in my class.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What the <i>hell<\/i>!\" Lottie says. \"That's insane. Does he know you're the ultimate Harry Styles fanboy?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh, you're awful,\" Louis says. \"Now, shut up. I want to listen.\"<br \/><br \/>It's not bad. It's different. It's slower, more heartfelt. Older. Louis feels his chest ache. Harry never mentioned this. Dropping a single is a <i>big deal<\/i>, especially when it's a comeback single, and he never mentioned it. <br \/><br \/>Louis digs around his bag for his phone, switching it on and ignoring the buzzing warnings about international charges. He quickly texts Harry. <br \/><br \/><i>heard the song. really good, haz. hope all is well x<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis doesn't hear back. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>He doesn't hear from Harry all break, actually. Louis calls when he gets back to his flat and leaves a message, but Harry never calls or texts back.<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs, looking worried. \"He's probably busy with publicity stuff, you know? I wouldn't worry.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis wants to point out that Zayn's tensed jaw belies that statement, but he just nods instead. \"It's weird he didn't tell me, isn't it? Or am I overreacting?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn hesitates. \"I... don't know?\" he says slowly, glancing at Louis.<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Yeah. Me either. Whatever.\" He shakes his head, trying to clear it. \"How's Liam doing?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles softly. \"He's good. He stayed here for Christmas, didn't go home. So, we had a nice time.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles wickedly. \"I just bet.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn gives him a slap on the back of his head. \"Whatever.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rests his head on Zayn shoulder as they stare at the television, playing some shitty cop drama. \"Should I be worried, Zayner?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"I hope not.\"<br \/><br \/>But when Louis gets to school on Monday morning, the parking lot is filled with paparazzi, snapping blinding flashes of anything that dares move in their peripheral vision. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey! Hey!\" middle age men with cameras yell at Louis. \"Do you know the Styles family? Are you a teacher?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hurries into the building and dashes into Liam's classroom. <br \/><br \/>\"Jesus fuck,\" he says. \"What the hell is going on?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam looks up at him. \"I was going to ask <i>you<\/i>! Apparently Harry's a celebrity again.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis glances down at his feet. \"Yeah. Apparently.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam furrows his brow. \"Didn't you... know?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Not until I heard his song on the radio. And that's quite literally the last time I heard his voice, also.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam's eyes widen. \"Oh. Oh, Louis. Um.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Whatever,\" Louis says, waving off Liam's concern. He's got enough of that. \"I'll see you at lunch, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam nods slowly, watching Louis walk back to his own classroom. <br \/><br \/>The morning is weirdly tense as the kids start trickling in. All of the parents are accompanying them \u2013 moreso than usual \u2013 and there's a nervous quiet to all of them, the initial excitement from all the cameras and flashing lights fading into a questioning sort of lack of understanding. Louis's gut clenches as the seconds tick closer to nine am and Jakob still hasn't shown up. <br \/><br \/>Then, suddenly, just as the bell rings, Jakob comes dashing in, followed by both Harry and Kristin. Who are holding hands. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances down to their hands, glances up at Harry, and glances away. \"Hey, guys. Jake, go ahead and find your seat and we're going to start.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him pleadingly as he turns to go, but Louis turns to the whiteboard, writing in clear capital letters: What Did You Do Over Winter Break? and inviting everyone to raise their hands and share. He does not look at Harry. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>After school, Louis ducks through the hoards of cameras once more and gets home to find Zayn in bed. He curls in next to him. Zayn turns over and wraps his arm around Louis's middle.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm upset you have a boyfriend,\" Louis grumbles, \"because I need a fuck.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn makes a noise in the back of his throat. \"What happened?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't know. Harry and Jake's mum, Kristin, came in holding hands. And I googled at lunch because I couldn't help it. Apparently they're a couple suddenly?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Zayn says, brushing Louis's hair off his forehead. \"Hey, come on. It's probably just for appearances. Because of the kid and all.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis sighs. \"But still. I haven't heard from him since before I left, you know? It's shitty regardless.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn keeps stroking his hair. \"No, babe, I agree.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis breathes out slowly and folds himself into Zayn. \"Can we cuddle, at least?\"<br \/><br \/>\"As if I'd say no to you, Lou,\" Zayn says quietly.<br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep, focusing only on Zayn's soft breath in his hair. <br \/><br \/>He wakes up two hours later to the insistent buzzing of his mobile in his pocket. <br \/><br \/>It's Harry. Louis's breath catches and he looks over at Zayn, still sleeping. He slips out of bed and stumbles into the living room. <br \/><br \/>\"Hello,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry says. \"Lou, hey.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at the carpet, digging his socked toes in as far as he can. \"Yeah?\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry sighs and Louis can picture him pacing around his kitchen. It doesn't make him feel better. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm so sorry, first of all, for not telling you. About the single. I realised later that maybe came as a bit of a shock?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"A bit.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says. \"Fuck. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that to you. To make you think I kept it from you or something. It's just been in the works for a long time. Long before I met you, you know? So it never really became a <i>thing<\/i> that I realised was necessary to tell you. Which was a huge oversight. And I'm sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"No, it's fine. It's a good song. Congratulations. Number one in the UK.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right.\" Harry lets out a long breath. \"Right.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis cracks his knuckles against his thigh. \"Look, Harry, it's fine, okay? It's all fine. I won't, like, say anything to anyone, of course. I won't cause any problems for you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>No<\/i>, Louis,\" Harry says sharply. \"That's not \u2013 no. I just. Look, my publicist is really pushing the family unit thing, but. No, okay, that's not what I want.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" Louis says. \"It's fine.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Louis,\" Harry says pleadingly. \"We're not gonna go along with it, okay? Kristin has a boyfriend and... so do I, okay? And obviously I'm not going to say anything about you, because that would look bad for both of us, you know, dating my son's teacher, but. I have a boyfriend, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"Harry, come on. This might be more trouble than it's worth.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry's silent for a moment. \"Is that \u2013 is that what you think?\" he says softly. <br \/><br \/>Louis plays with the fraying ends of his trousers at his heel. \"I... don't know,\" he says back, just as softly. \"You didn't talk to me for two weeks.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Lou...\" Harry whispers. \"Fuck. Can I see you? Can I come over?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip. \"Will you be followed?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'll make sure I'm not,\" Harry promises. \"I'll be there in a half an hour.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, okay,\" Louis says. \"Okay.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls open the door as soon as Harry knocks. He holds it open, but Harry just stands there, looking at him nervously. <br \/><br \/>\"Come in,\" Louis says, sighing minutely. <br \/><br \/>Harry follows Louis into the kitchen, where Louis pulls out two beers, taking a long pull of one. Harry just holds his. <br \/><br \/>\"Louis, look. I'm so sorry about the past few weeks. I never meant to ignore you or anything. It's been absolutely fucking crazy. I've been flying all over the damn world to deal with this bullshit and I just. I never meant to let you, like, slip through. It just got so crazy and I know how it looks, right, me not speaking to you and showing up with a <i>girlfriend<\/i> or whatever you've heard...\" Harry trails off, staring down at his unopened beer. <br \/><br \/>Louis stares into space across the room. He says, \"I really like you, but I don't really know what to do with...\" Louis waves his hand around, as if that could symbolise <i>celebrity<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"I know. I don't want to, like, pressure you into anything. You can tell me to go and I will. But I really just. I'm just crazy about you, you know? That's what it comes down to, for me.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis exhales. \"How are we gonna do this? We've got shit on both ends, you know? I know what it'll look like to the school if I date a parent \u2013 a male parent \u2013 much less the token <i>famous<\/i> male parent, and you've got... whatever you've got. How is this gonna work?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks hesitant again, but he overcomes it and moves closer to Louis, tilting his chin up and pressing a quick kiss to Louis's pursed lips. <br \/><br \/>\"I can't, like, make any promises that it won't blow up on us, you know? Because it could. I'm gonna be, like, watched for awhile. Not forever, though. Just until something more interesting happens. But. I don't know about you, but. I really do think it's worth it.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis looks up into Harry's eyes, sees total, intense earnestness. He feels himself nodding slowly. <br \/><br \/>\"I \u2013 okay. Yeah. Okay.\" He smiles a little sheepishly. \"I'm kind of crazy about you, too.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry lights up, smile spreading across his face. He starts to lean in again, but Louis stops him with a light hand on his shoulder. <br \/><br \/>\"But, look, Harry. I'm gonna need to know about this kind of stuff. You can't just... drop something like this on me every few months, okay? Albums, tours, whatever, okay? You need to talk to me. This isn't gonna work at all if you don't talk to me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods seriously. \"I will. I promise. This was like. Everything happened so fast and I wasn't sure where we stood and I just. I promise.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Louis says. \"Okay.\" He slides his hands up and over Harry's shoulders, clasping them at the back of his neck, touching their foreheads together. \"Okay. We'll do this. It's gonna be weird.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs softly. \"Yeah, well. You're way out of my league, anyway.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis snorts. \"I wish I could time travel back to when I was sixteen, to be honest.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry narrows his eyes wickedly. \"Mmm, me too.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up!\" Louis exclaims, pinching the back of Harry's neck.<br \/><br \/>Harry chuckles, before becoming serious again. \"Can I tell Jake? I think he'd be excited. He loves you. And he knows that I... really like you, too.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip to hide his smile. \"Yeah, okay. Make sure he knows he can't tell any of his friends, though.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry nods, smiling fully again, and nudges Louis's nose with his own, catching their lips lightly in a kiss. <br \/><br \/>After a few minutes, Louis hears Zayn's bedroom door open and a rough voice comes from the doorway, saying, \"Oh, good. Shall I call the Mail, then?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis lifts a hand from Harry's back, and flips Zayn off. Harry just laughs a little, burying his face in Louis's neck, pressing small kisses along the line of his throat. <br \/><br \/>\"Want to give me the grand tour?\" Harry mutters into Louis's skin.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says. \"We'll start with the bedroom, I think.\"<\/blockquote><\/blockquote>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:9297","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/9297.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=9297"}}],"title":"doing things you thought you'd never do (hs\/lt)","published":"2012-08-29T05:05:35Z","updated":"2012-10-04T23:29:32Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: doing things you thought you'd never do<br \/><b>pairing<\/b>: louis tomlinson\/harry styles<br \/><b>rating<\/b>: NC-17, jesus.<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~3.5k<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. harry's always wanted to fuck in the bookshop. timestamp to <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/5233.html\" target=\"_blank\">of all the stars most beautiful<\/a>.<br \/><b>notes<\/b>: all i can really say here is that i need to get laid. and if my lovely coworker reads this (i'm sure as hell not showing her), darlin, i've never fucked anyone in the shop after closing. promise. <br \/><br \/>sorry about this, really. <br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>On a Saturday in the middle of April, Louis is shelving a huge stack of World War II biographies in the military history section when the bells on the door of the bookshop clang. He glances between the shelves to see if Zayn is in a friendly enough mood to handle customers this close to closing, or if he'll need to step up and intervene. He hopes Zayn can handle it, because he's wrestling with an almost-full shelf and six books left to put away. <br \/><br \/>He hears Zayn muttering something to someone and shrugs to himself, turning back to try and shove the thirty-second \"reasons why Hitler was fucked up\" book next to the \"reasons why Rommel was a German Hero\" books. As if anyone is presenting new information. Louis thinks he could write a World War II book. All they ever really say are variations of a C-major chord. <br \/><br \/>It's fifteen minutes to closing. Louis is tired and grumpy. <br \/><br \/>Suddenly, hands come from nowhere and grip his hips tightly, pulling him back into a warm, familiar body. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi,\" says a deep voice.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles. \"Hey, you.\" He turns around in Harry's arms and tips up on his toes, heedless of the books between them, to give him a quick kiss. Harry's arms tighten, holding him there, and he keeps smiling down. <br \/><br \/>\"How are you?\" Harry asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes briefly and gives a little shake of his head. \"Tired. How are you?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry steps back a little and lets go of Louis, bringing his arms back around and pulling the books away. He glances at the authors and moves over to the shelves, quickly making space and shoving them in. Louis cringes as <i>The Diary of Anne Frank<\/i> is shoved in next to Churchill's diaries, but lets it go for now. He'll fix it tomorrow. <br \/><br \/>Harry turns back around and pulls Louis in again, this time with nothing between them. Louis pushes himself close, running his hands up Harry's sides, under his teeshirt and along his ribs, loving the warmth and softness of his skin. He tilts his head into Harry's neck, pressing gentle kisses along his throat. <br \/><br \/>Harry makes a small noise and drops his hands to fit into Louis's back pockets, squeezing gently. \"Missed you today.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis breathes out and rests his forehead against Harry's shoulder. \"Yeah. Brought a lunch, sorry. It was busy.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry presses a kiss to Louis's forehead. \"Want me to walk you home? Can Zayn close?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis nods and leans up to kiss Harry one more time, shifting closer as Harry pulls him in by the bum, slipping his tongue in Louis's mouth. Louis makes a small noise and brings one hand up to curl in Harry's hair, tilting his head down farther to deepen the kiss. <br \/><br \/>Harry pulls back for a moment, looking down at Louis, tongue coming out to lick at his own lips. \"We should get out of here,\" he says. Louis shivers. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, Zayn?\" he calls, not looking away from the dark intent in Harry's eyes as Harry pushes him back against the bookshelf. It wobbles in a way that almost worries Louis, but he can't find it within himself to care, because he can feel Harry half-hard against him and he involuntarily rocks into it. Harry's eyes flutter closed and he starts biting at Louis's neck, causing whatever oxygen left in his lungs to catch, then whoosh out. <br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Zayn yells back. \"If you two are getting nasty back there, I'm sure as hell not cleaning it up.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry snorts a laugh against Louis's skin and slides his hands out of Louis's back pockets, brushing them back down over his arse and grabbing him, just where the back of his thighs curve into his bum, pulling up slightly. Louis chokes on a moan and Harry bites him again. <br \/><br \/>\"Just kidding,\" Harry murmurs darkly into his neck. \"Say you'll close. Say he should leave, like, now.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis pants. \"Yeah, okay.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry licks a stripe up his neck and pulls him into another biting kiss, sucking Louis's lower lip into his mouth and letting it go with a small pop. \"Fuck,\" Louis says. \"Fuck, okay,\" he whispers, before calling back to Zayn, \"Hey, I'll close up, yeah? Why don't you head on home? I'm sure you've got a Skype date with Liam or whatever, right?\"<br \/><br \/>They hear rustling coming from the desk and Zayn presumably packs up his stuff and then there are footsteps heading toward them. Harry smirks, but doesn't move back, just digs his fingers in deeper, pulling harder at Louis's arse. Louis rolls his eyes up at him, but doesn't bother trying to argue or move away into a less telling position. <br \/><br \/>\u2028Zayn rounds the corner and stops at the sight of them. \"Jesus,\" he says. \"Like rabbits, you are. I'm out of here.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry gives him a wicked smile and Louis gives him a slightly apologetic smile. Zayn rolls his eyes. \"Don't leave a mess. I'll lock the door. You are gross.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Bye, Zayn,\" Louis says, and as soon as they hear the click of the lock behind him, Harry pulls Louis forward into the aisle and starts walking them back to the drama alcove, all insistent hands and punishing kisses. <br \/><br \/>\"Always wanted,\" Harry pants, \"to do this here.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis tilts his head back, exposing his neck, and Harry latches back on, sucking harsh bruises into the dip between his collarbones. \"You're so dirty,\" Louis gasps. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says with a dark chuckle, and shoves him up against the film biography shelf, the shelf braced against an actual wall. Louis breathes a little moan, now that they're finally alone, and wraps his leg around Harry's skinny hips, pulling him in and rocking up, letting Harry feel the length of his cock in his tight trousers. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck,\" Harry says. \"Yeah, Lou, come on,\" and Louis harshly yanks Harry back down by his hair, positioning him back at his neck, loving the feeling of Harry's warm, wet lips sucking the thin skin there. He can feel the blood pulsing close to the surface and he's way beyond being able to control his breath as it's pushed out of him with every scrape of Harry's teeth. <br \/><br \/>Louis grabs Harry's right hand, which drifted up to his waist, and locks their fingers together briefly, before quickly untangling them and bringing both their hands back to Louis's arse. He squeezes his own hand around Harry's, and Harry huffs a laugh. \"Pushy,\" he says, and slides his hand out from under Louis's and up to his lower back, then shoving it down the back of Louis's trousers, onto his bare skin, long fingers skating down his crack, to grab a full handful. \"Jesus, Lou,\" he breathes as Louis lets out a groan. <br \/><br \/>\"Come on, Harry, yeah,\" he says breathlessly, wriggling back into Harry's hand and trying to simultaneously rock forward against Harry's hips, desperate for more. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck, Lou, you're so fucking sexy,\" Harry says, pulling back from Louis's neck. \"What do you want?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis gazes up at him and Harry pushes forward slightly, rocking their hips together in small circles, their cocks aligned between four layers of clothing. Their faces are so close and the height difference is so marked when they're like this and Louis loves it, secretly, and he knows Harry does too. He likes feeling small with Harry, he likes the way Harry can stare down at him with <i>that<\/i> look, that fucking cock-hardening look,  and he knows Harry likes doing this to him, likes it that Louis seems delicate compared to him, and <i>fuck<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>Louis feels his lips curve up into a small, mischievous smile and he slowly slides his leg down from Harry's hip and drops to his knees without breaking eye-contact. <br \/><br \/>Harry stares at him, all wide-eyed awe, the same look every fucking time Louis does this, as if Louis on his knees is some kind of ethereal sight. His long pale fingers card through Louis's hair, coming to rest on the back of his head, practically wrapping around his entire skull. Louis grins slightly and bumps his forehead against Harry's hip, nuzzling his face against the hard line of his dick. <br \/><br \/>\"Lou,\" Harry says, and it's strangled. Louis smirks up at him before sliding a teasing hand up Harry's thigh to the button of his trousers, letting his fingers tickle at the small track of hair leading downwards. After toying with the button for a few seconds, he quickly yanks it open and pulls down the fly, shoving the trousers down Harry's legs. There's a small wet patch growing at the bulge of his pants and Louis licks his lips, flicking his eyes back up to Harry. Harry just gazes down at him, both his arms now braced against the bookshelf, back arched forward so he can see all of Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, okay,\" Louis mutters and Harry lets out a surprised laugh. Louis grins and yanks down the pants, and Harry's cock bounces free, slapping up against his stupidly hard stomach. Louis breathes hotly against it for a moment, pressing kisses up and down the shaft, before sitting back up fully on his knees and taking the head in his mouth. <br \/><br \/>\"Shit,\" Harry says through clenched teeth. \"Shit, Lou, you're so good, fuck,\" and Louis always wants to laugh at Harry's bad porn talk but he doesn't think Harry even <i>realises<\/i> it, because Harry's so goddamn earnest with everything and it just makes Louis want to try harder, want to get him to say even more ridiculous things because he <i>means<\/i> it, and that's what's so fucking remarkable. So he closes his eyes and focuses on making Harry feel good. He sucks at head for a moment, getting used to Harry's width, before pulling him back out and rubbing the head against his lips, spreading the precome around. Harry lets out a groan and slumps his forehead against his arms, curled over Louis, eyes slipping closed. <br \/><br \/>Louis flattens his tongue and licks one hot stripe up the underside before sucking Harry fully into his mouth, taking him down as far as he can to the back of his throat, bobbing slightly, preparing himself, before pulling off minutely and wrapping his hand around the base, letting the slight rocking of Harry's dictate the pace. He leans back in, hollowing his cheeks and closing his eyes, sinking back down until his lips hit the curl of his fingers and pulling back, again and again until Harry's thighs are shaking and his breath is coming shorter and shorter. Louis pulls off quickly, takes a deep breath and wipes at his eyes, his mouth, before guiding Harry back in and taking him as far as he can, feeling him slide past his throat and works to control his gag reflex, swallowing around him. <br \/><br \/>\"Fuck, fuck, fuck,\" Harry's chanting, and then Harry's hand comes down and strokes over Louis's jaw, his cheek, before cupping the side of his face lightly and pulling himself out of Louis's mouth. \"Come on,\" he says, as Louis struggles to catch his breath. \"Come on, babe,\" and he strokes a hand through Louis's hair and Louis looks up at him, unsure what Harry wants. <br \/><br \/>Harry smiles softly and sinks down to his own knees, facing Louis. He rocks back onto his heels before lifting his shirt off, tugging at the hem of Louis's for him to do the same. As soon as he obliges, Harry pulls him forward, chests pressing against each other and he leans in for a sloppy kiss against Louis's swollen lips. \"You're so amazing, Lou,\" Harry breathes against Louis's mouth. \"So amazing, come on, lay back for me,\" and he reaches around Louis to grip the back of his thighs, pulling him to lay on the rough rug covering the thin carpet of the bookshop. Harry rolls to hover over Louis between his legs, Harry's pants and trousers still trapped ridiculously halfway down his thighs. Louis smiles up at Harry and brings a hand up to palm his flushed cheek and stroke up further into his sweaty hair, carding through and pushing it away from his forehead.<br \/><br \/> \"What do you want?\" Louis whispers, and Harry slumps down to rest his forehead against Louis's collarbone briefly, then kicks off his shoes, sliding the rest of his clothing off shortly afterwards. Louis toes off his shoes as well and starts to work on his trousers, but Harry quickly bats his hands away. \"Mine,\" he growls into Louis's ear, pulling Louis's thigh up to brace against his hip, grinding his cock down so it slides wetly against Louis's stomach. Louis closes his eyes and curls his hands around the back of Harry's neck, rubbing his thumbs against the soft dip underneath his ears. \"Come on, Haz,\" he murmurs. \"Gonna fuck me?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry tenses over him, eyes squeezing shut in an effort to control himself. \"Yeah. Fuck,\" he says, and then his hands are pawing furiously at Louis's trousers, peeling them down his thighs and calves until Louis impatiently wriggles out of them. He immediately spreads his thighs back open, looking up at Harry as he kneels between his legs, digging in the pocket of his own trousers for a packet of lube. He comes up with it and leans forward to kiss Louis one more time. Their cocks nudge together, and they both let out harsh breaths into each other's mouths before pulling back to smile. Louis runs a hand down Harry's ribcage to grab at the sharp edge of his hipbone. <br \/><br \/>\"Come on, sailor,\" Louis teases. \"Give it to me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes and tears open the lube, spreading half of it on two of his fingers. He pushes Louis's thighs open wider and sits back on his heels between them, staring down at Louis's dick, at his arse. \"God,\" he says softly and Louis smiles a little. Harry's so <i>earnest<\/i>. And then Harry's running his fingers along the crack of his bum and those long fingers are rubbing at his hole, teasing him, and Louis arches his back. \"<i>Harry<\/i>,\" he says, sharper than he means to. \"<i>Please<\/i>,\" he softens his voice and Harry gives him a little loving grin, sliding a finger in. <br \/><br \/>Louis feels his breath leave him as Harry works it in, fucking him shallowly before adding a second, curling them slightly. He teases Louis like that for what feels like for-fucking-ever, twisting those two fingers in and out, bringing his mouth back down to Louis's neck. Louis's fingers dig into Harry's back, pressing hard, knuckles white. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry,\" he whines. \"Harry, come on, now, I'm ready, come on,\" and Harry pulls his mouth off Louis before sharply fucking his fingers in, causing Louis's cock to twitch, blurting out  precome. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry pants. \"Alright, yeah, okay,\" and he's fumbling in his trousers again but Louis is <i>not<\/i> down with that, so he yanks them away, and Harry glances up at him, eyes wide. \"Lou...\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"No, come on, we got tested, not gonna get pregnant, come on, Haz, wanna feel you, come on,\" and he's so breathless and flushed and all of his blood is twenty degrees hotter than healthy and he's so ready he's tingling, every inch of him is on fire, and <i>god<\/i>, \"Harry, please.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry's eyes fall closed and he breathes out, \"Fuck, fuck, Louis, you're going to fucking kill me,\" and then he's slicking up his bare cock and the head of it is pressed against Louis's hole and then it's <i>in<\/i>, just the very tip, and every time \u2013 every fucking time \u2013 Louis is so overwhelmed at how <i>big<\/i> Harry is, how he towers over him, how his shoulders go all the way out to <i>there<\/i>, how his legs are never-ending, and how absolutely fucking massive Harry's cock is. <br \/><br \/>Harry presses in further, arms straining next to Louis's head and Louis wraps his legs around Harry's thighs, pulling him in further with his heels until their hips are pressed together and Harry's balls are flush against Louis's arse. <br \/><br \/>\"God,\" Harry breathes again, and pulls out slightly before slamming back in. Louis wraps his fingers around Harry's curls and moans, urging Harry on, until he finds a rhythm that causes both of them to pant out grunts in time with each other. Harry dips down and catches Louis's mouth with his own, breathing heavily, desperately, and they kiss open-mouthed, filthy, as Harry's hips pound into Louis's, over and over until they run out of breath between them. <br \/><br \/>Louis arches his back and rocks his hips into Harry's, meeting each thrust with one of his own, his neglected cock bouncing against his stomach, and he untangles his fingers from Harry's hair, reaching a hand down to grab at it, but Harry catches him with a sharp look, stopping Louis from touching himself. <br \/><br \/>\"Mine,\" he growls for the second time and leans his weight fully on his left elbow, stroking his right hand down Louis's sternum, his stomach, gliding through the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin before reaching Louis's cock, giving it two quick pumps. Harry's thumb comes up to swipe at the precome, using it to slick a path down, then he finds the same rhythm his hips are moving in, alternating between strokes and thrusts until Louis is whining high in his throat, muscles tensed, pushed to the edge. Harry pulls all the way out, then, and Louis gasps, yanking down at his hair. Still teasing at Louis's cock with one hand, Harry brings his other hand down to shove two fingers back in, sharp and hard and Louis clenches his teeth and comes, spurting over Harry's hand and his own stomach, his hips, and before he can come down, or even before he can stop seeing stars, Harry slams his cock back in and thrusts in twice, as deep as he can, before tensing every muscle and letting go, cock pulsing inside Louis, filling him. <br \/><br \/>Louis feels his legs fall to the ground on either side of Harry's and Harry's arm gives out and he slumps heavily onto Louis, pressing his forehead into the curve of Louis's neck. \"Jesus christ,\" he rasps.<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles weakly at the ceiling, sliding his hand over Harry's back. \"Yeah.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry pushes himself up, slightly, and glances down between them, where he's still inside Louis. Grimacing slightly, he feels around for his pants and brings them between their bodies, pulling out slowly and using the fabric to catch the mess. Louis makes a face. \"I didn't think this through,\" he admits. <br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little. \"Sexy as fuck, though,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head ruefully. \"At my place of <i>business<\/i>,\" he says, mockingly appalled at himself. <br \/><br \/>Harry finishes wiping Louis up as best he can and tosses Louis his own pants and trousers. \"Home?\" he asks.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis sighs. \"I'm so tired.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry cards a hand through Louis's hair. \"I'll make you dinner and we can watch <i>Friends<\/i>, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles over at him. \"Love you,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Harry blushes, inexplicably. \"Love you too, Lou,\" and he heaves himself off the floor, wincing a little at the ache in his back, and holds a hand out to Louis. <br \/><br \/>Louis takes it, pulling himself up, and doesn't let go. He knocks their hips together as they walk towards the door, and glances up at Harry. \"Did that meet your expectations?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip thoughtfully before smirking. \"Not sure,\" he says. \"Might have to give it another go.\"<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:8526","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/8526.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=8526"}}],"title":"blackjacks running down my back (hs\/lt)","published":"2012-08-26T15:12:32Z","updated":"2012-10-04T23:31:15Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"why is this my life"}},"content":"<b>title<\/b>: blackjacks running down my back<br \/><b>pairing(s)<\/b>: louis tomlinson\/harry styles (peripheral zayn malik\/liam payne)<br \/><b>disclaimer<\/b>: hilariously untrue.<br \/><b>word count<\/b>: ~10,000<br \/><b>summary<\/b>: AU. university stuff. best friend stuff. music stuff. sappy stuff. <br \/><b>notes<\/b>: this is the sappiest thing i might ever write; this is the sappiest thing you might ever read. and it's dedicated to everyone who reads the shit i put out because you say the loveliest things to me and i'm obsessed with all of you.<br \/><br \/>and because i'm wildly self-indulgent, <a href=\"http:\/\/www.mediafire.com\/?xtiud1i7qafy5f9\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">here's<\/a> a mix of all the songs mentioned or referenced. <br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>The song starts fading out and Louis looks up from his book in a hurry, grabbing the microphone and hovering his hand over the trackpad on his laptop. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright, ladies and gentlemen \u2013 well, mostly ladies, I won't lie to myself here \u2013 that was some modern throwback wonder for you in 'Headlines (Friendship Never Ends)' by the quintessential soundtrack to the nineties and mainstream harbingers of feminist pride: Spice Girls!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pauses briefly and looks down at his notes. \"And now, I'd like to invite you to email  all your agony aunt quandaries to louis-at-chaos-radio-dot-co-uk. Our next email is from 'Betrayed and Miserable' and she says: <i>dear louis, my boyfriend cheated on me with our other good friend. both of them said they were drunk and being stupid and it was a mistake, but i feel so betrayed! my boyfriend is begging for another chance, and i just don't know if i can trust him again! what should i do?<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>Turning away and quickly taking a sip of water, Louis leans back into the microphone. \"Well, BAM, this is a tough one. First off, I'm very sorry to hear about your situation \u2013 I'm sure most of us have been in a situation like that from some angle, and it's generally horrible on all fronts. I think what you have to do is consider the situation and analyse how you feel and what you know about these two people, right? Do you see this possibly happening again? Or do you believe it was just a drunk and stupid night? Cheating doesn't make someone a bad person, and not cheating doesn't make someone a good person. Mistakes do happen. Look at Ross on <i>Friends<\/i>! We all know he'd never cheat on Rachel, but he was upset and drunk and he made a mistake. So I think you should carefully analyse the situation and reexamine the trust you have for your boyfriend and make a decision on your own. He is not suddenly undateable or unloveable because he slept with someone else, and I think you should use this situation as a great excuse to re-examine how you feel about him in the long term. Hope this helps!\"<br \/><br \/>Louis glances at the clock. \"Alright, guys, I've got one last song for you, and because I'm sure all sorts of disaffected hipsters are tuning in right about now, here's something to liven the mood before Harry brings you all back down to your usual brand of misery. This is Girls Aloud with 'Black Jacks' \u2013 a song I was listening to whilst walking to class the other day and got very much caught by many people doing some wonderful Chezza-inspired dance moves. Enjoy. This has been Piss Off If You Don't Like It, I've been Louis Tomlinson, and Harry Styles is up next.\"<br \/><br \/>Tapping the play button, Louis slides off his headphones and pushes the microphone away, turning to smile at Harry, who's just entered the studio. He breaks off into a coughing fit and Harry's eyes turn dark with concern.<br \/><br \/>Harry gives him a pet on the head and Louis leans into it. \"How'd it go? How's your throat?\" Harry asks. <br \/><br \/>Louis pulls a face. \"I need about a week of sleep on a nice warm beach with lots of barely clothed people surrounding me at all times.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles. \"Maybe we can figure that out for summer?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and grins at Harry through his eyelashes. \"You dreamer. Anyway, I'll get out of your way. Have a good show, you indie-fuck. I'll see you at home.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, yeah,\" Harry says. \"I'll dedicate something to you. Will you listen?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bats his eyelashes furiously, heedless of his headache. \"I tune in every week, don't I? Your voice is just <i>so sexy<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Get out of here, you maniac.\" Harry shoves Louis toward the door, giving him a swat on the bum. <br \/><br \/>\"Love you!\" Louis rasps behind him as he walks out the door. <br \/><br \/>Louis stumbles out of the radio department and into the freezing January air, tugging his collar up to his ears and huddling down into his coat. It's two minutes to midnight and he has a paper due tomorrow. Life is not smiling down on him lately, he thinks, burying another coughing fit in his elbow. <br \/><br \/>After the frigid ten minute walk across campus to his and Harry's flat, Louis digs around for his favourite pajama pants and pulls on one of Harry's old, soft teeshirts. He curls down in bed and flips the radio on before digging out his books and notes. <br \/><br \/>Grinning softly to himself, Louis begins to write as Harry's low, gravelly voice comes through the airwaves. <br \/><br \/>\"Good evening, tossers. I'm Harry Styles and you're listening to Manic Underachiever on Chaos Radio. That was The Walkmen with 'The Rat.' Here are Stagnant Pools with 'Dead Sailor.' I hope you all get that homework finished.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and forces his burning eyes to concentrate on his cramped and desperate handwriting, his careful analysis of The Wasteland blurring together into waves of exhaustion. He rubs his eyes furiously. <br \/><br \/>Harry's voice crackles into the air again, and Louis leans back on his pillows, pulling his knees up to his chest. \"Alright, guys, this next song is dedicated to my best friend who's got the most heinous taste in music ever, but let's work on that, shall we? This is Dan Griffin with 'The Fire' all for you, Louis. Finish that paper and I'll make you breakfast before class.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone. <i>i'll hold you to that. also, asshole. also, i love this song.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Harry texts back almost immediately. <i>i know. also, i know. also, i know. finish and get some sleep xx<\/i><br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Louis wakes up at 5 o'clock in the morning to the dulcet tones of his screaming alarm and groans. His head is pounding and his skin is burning and he's freezing cold. He sneezes pathetically before rolling out of bed and sliding on trousers and one of Harry's hoodies. He grabs his big down jacket and his bag and starts walking to the library. <br \/><br \/>Finding a table in the back of the quiet lounge, he pops an adderall in his mouth and begins analysing T.S. Eliot's marriage breakdown and mental breakdown between the lines of The Wasteland. <br \/><br \/>Two and a half hours later, his phone buzzes in his pocket. <br \/><br \/><i>where are you? thought i was making brekkie ):<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and wishes like hell he was back at the flat, watching Harry stumble around him, fussing worriedly, and making one of his fryups. <i>didn't finish ): at lib. more for you!!! sorry x<\/i><br \/><br \/>He doesn't get anything back, so he pulls his headphones out of his bag and hits shuffle on his iPod, grinning slightly when Cat Stevens' jangly guitar pours into his ears. <br \/><br \/>Twenty minutes and four songs later, the door of the study room swings open and Louis glances up from his computer through his fringe. Harry's standing in front of Louis in his pajamas with his hair a mess and just a jumper protecting him from the cold walk over, holding a steaming container in two hands. <br \/><br \/>\"You need breakfast, Lou,\" Harry says with a small smile. <br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him. \"Haz...\" <br \/><br \/>Shaking his head to cut Louis off, Harry pushes the container over to Louis. \"Come on, you're sick and stressed and you need something warm.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis takes it and gives Harry the most grateful look he can muster. He thinks it might border more on pathetic. \"You're the best mate I could ever dream up. Even in my happy dreams. Even in the happiest dreams on earth. Hugh Hefner's happy dreams.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"How's the paper coming?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Coming. I'm editing now,\" Louis says, shrugging. <br \/><br \/>Harry nods. \"Can you rest tonight?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I think so,\" Louis says. \"Niall wants to get dinner with all of us, if we can track down Liam.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'll find Liam. You get Zayn.\" Harry runs a hand through Louis's hair and starts backing away. \"Good luck, Lou. See you after class, yeah? Don't make any plans. You need rest, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head fondly and smiles at Harry. \"Yeah, yeah. Have a good day, <i>mum<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>After eating the lukewarm eggs and sausages and giving his paper one more halfhearted reread, Louis stands and stretches and packs up his bag, heading upstairs to the main stacks and slumping against the circulation desk. <br \/><br \/>Zayn looks at him pityingly. \"You didn't sound too great last night, mate,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis glances up blearily. \"Oh, wow, thank you. Please, hold nothing back, it's not like I work hard on those shows or anything.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. \"I mean health-wise, idiot.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Just a cold. It's nothing,\" Louis says. \"Harry brought me breakfast, though. I'm feeling better. Print my paper, would you? It's in the queue.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods and turns back to his computer quickly, before grabbing the pages the printer next to him spits out. \"You just have the one class today, yeah?\" he asks as he hands it over. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, then dear Harold is forcing me to stay in so he can fuss over me all afternoon,\" Louis says. \"Quite a drag, really.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs lightly. \"I wish <i>my<\/i> boyfriend would do that,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. The boyfriend jokes are too old to even bother acknowledging. \"Speaking of your boyfriend, Niall wants all of us to eat together tonight, so you should find Liam and make sure he comes. It's been too long.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn pulls his lower lip into his mouth. \"He's really busy, you know? I'll ask him.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Come on, Zayn!\" Louis whines. \"We haven't all sat down together in ages! I'm starting to think you two think you're too good for the rest of us, and you know what that does to my self-esteem? Do you? Do you have any idea how worthless I feel?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shakes his head. \"Yeah, shut up, your self-esteem could do with a few knocks, honestly.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis mock-gasps. \"How very dare you! I've worked hard to become as amazing as I currently am.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're too sick to banter, mate,\" Zayn says dryly. \"Please stop. It's like arguing with a kitten.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis feels his face fold up into a rueful smile as he leans down to rest his head on the counter. \"I'm dying.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Go to class. I'll text you about tonight.\"<br \/><br \/>\"'Kay,\" Louis says and he forces himself to pick up his bag and shove his paper inside. \"Make it happen, Malik. You'll have three weeping boys to deal with otherwise.\"<br \/><br \/>\"So, standard practice, then,\" Zayn says. \"See you later, Lou.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Honey, I'm home!\" Louis manages a whispered shout as he opens the door to their flat and slumps against it once it closes behind him. Harry's bedroom door opens immediately.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry says quietly, walking over to Louis and tugging him to lean against Harry's body instead of the door. <br \/><br \/>\"Mmm,\" Louis sounds into his neck. \"Bed.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Harry says, walking them to Louis's room. \"Want anything? There's water on the nightstand and I have soup ready whenever you want it.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head into Harry's shoulder. \"Too good to me, Hazza. Way too good to me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs a little. \"Nah. Hate seeing you like this.\" He gives Louis a little push and Louis dutifully climbs into his bed, toeing off his boots and sliding his trousers down his thighs. He keeps Harry's hoodie on and bundles himself under the comforter. <br \/><br \/>Giving him a small smile, Harry tugs the blankets up to Louis's chin and runs a hand through his hair. \"I'll wake you in a few hours for soup, okay? And Liam said he and Zayn will be at dinner.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes and grins. \"Good. Dream team back together again. We're like Take That. Only sexier.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"Liam's Gary.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're Robbie,\" Louis says, cracking an eye open.<br \/><br \/>\"You're Jason,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Giggling softly, Louis says, \"Niall's Mark.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Obviously. Shut up and go to sleep, okay? I'll be in my room if you need anything.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis reaches out and squeezes Harry's hand. \"Thanks, Haz.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry leaves the room with the door ajar, presumably so he can hear if Louis dies in his sleep or something, Louis thinks with affectionate frustration. He closes his eyes again and huddles under the covers, putting how shit he feels out of his mind by sheer force of willpower. <br \/><br \/>Sleep eventually comes, but it's uneasy and desperate. Louis dreams of shipwrecks, of shifting skies, of wanderlust gone wrong, of the northern star burning out. He dreams of drowning and he shocks awake, gasping and cold, the sheets sticking to his skin by the glue of tacky sweat. <br \/><br \/>He must make a sound, because Harry's there immediately, all dark green concern. <br \/><br \/>\"Everything alright, love?\" Harry asks as he sits at the foot of Louis's bed. <br \/><br \/>Louis closes his eyes again and slumps back against the pillows, pulling the hood of Harry's sweatshirt over his head. \"Bad dream, I guess.\" He takes a drink of water.<br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip. \"It's about time for dinner. I didn't wake you up earlier because I figured I should let you sleep as much as possible. Want to grab a shower and head over? Are you up to it?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles wanly. \"You know me, always up for it.\" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Harry rolls his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"Shower. You smell.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis climbs out of bed, grumbling under his breath. \"I'm not leaving the door open, Harry,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Harry stops on his way back to his room and looks at Louis with wide-eyed worry. \"But what if you fall? Or pass out? Don't lock it, okay?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis stares at him. \"You honestly do think you're my mother, don't you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Harry mumbles. \"Don't lock it.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head, but doesn't lock the door. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>When they reach the dining hall, Harry presses Louis down in a chair. \"I'll get you some food, yeah? Sit tight.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"I'm not a bloody invalid, Haz.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry gives him a look and Louis sighs. \"Fine,\" he says. Harry nods. <br \/><br \/>Niall comes up a moment later with a tray loaded for three, but really, just for one. \"Hey, mate. Heard you're sick? Better eat something.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry's getting it,\" Louis says, eyeing Niall's chips. Niall curls an arm around his food protectively. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't even think on it.\" <br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"You're Mark Owen, did you know that?\"<br \/><br \/>Niall looks up through a mouthful of meatloaf. \"Yeah? Didn't all the girls fancy him? Cool. You're Jason, aren't you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Apparently,\" Louis says, rolling his eyes. <br \/><br \/>Niall laughs, mouth wide open. Louis winces. \"Let me guess,\" Niall says. \"Zayn's Howard. Liam's Gary. Harry's Robbie.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're good,\" Louis says, and Liam and Zayn show up then, hands locked and eyes smiling. \"Did you just fuck? I rescind the invitation. No one who's getting laid regularly is allowed at this table.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn rolls his eyes. Liam looks embarrassed. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi, Liam,\" Louis says, contrite. <br \/><br \/>\"Hi, Lou,\" Liam says, shaking his head. \"How're you feeling?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh my god, being sick is not my only defining characteristic. I'm <i>fine<\/i>,\" Louis snaps.<br \/><br \/>Zayn's eyes narrow now. \"You need food. Stop being a bitch. Where's Haz?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis slumps down and leans his head on his hand. \"Coming. With food. Sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam smiles. \"I wish <i>my<\/i> boyfriend would do that,\" he says with a nudge to Zayn's side. <br \/><br \/>Zayn glances at him. \"What do you want? The chicken? With a salad?\" He stands, waiting for Liam's answer. <br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Niall says. \"You four are disgusting.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Daily reminder that Harry and I are <i>not<\/i> dating,\" Louis throws in, offhand. <br \/><br \/>A bowl of chicken soup slides in front of Louis and Harry sits down in the chair to his left. \"Stop breaking my heart,\" Harry says. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and leans his head over on Harry's shoulder. \"Thanks, babe.\"<br \/><br \/>Liam stares at them. \"You're dating harder than Zayn and I are,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Harry snorts. \"I'd be looking a bit more satisfied if that were true,\" he says. \"A bit like you do now, actually, mate. Good afternoon?\"<br \/><br \/>Liam blushes. \"Shut up.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Also,\" Louis says, \"how do you measure the forcefulness of dating? If Harry and I are dating <i>harder<\/i> than you two, how are we talking here? Do I need to give you some lessons on getting the job done?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh my god,\" Liam says, bright red now. \"Forget I said anything.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Gladly,\" Niall says. <br \/><br \/>\"And,\" Louis continues, \"the point remains that Harry and I aren't dating.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn comes back with two plates of food and hands one off to Liam. \"You just should be,\" he says, sitting down. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Anyway<\/i>,\" says Harry, \"how are we all today? Besides Louis.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh my <i>god<\/i>,\" Louis yells, as much as he can. \"There's more to me than my disease!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Nah. You turn into a massive twat when you're sick, mate. We all know that.\" Niall's still talking around a mouthful of food. <br \/><br \/>\"Chew and swallow.\" Louis kicks him. Zayn smirks. <br \/><br \/>\"Remember when you two hated each other?\" Zayn says, pointing his fork between Louis and Harry.<br \/><br \/>Harry scoffs, \"We didn't <i>hate<\/i> each other.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hides his smile behind his glass of water. \"Well...\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs. \"Yeah, mate, speak for yourself,\" he says to Harry.<br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Harry says, looking at Louis. \"You hated me?\"<br \/><br \/>Still laughing, Zayn says, \"Oh, god, you should have heard him freshman year. Whinging on and on about the fucking <i>hipster<\/i> who was after his timeslot, the fucking <i>hipster<\/i> with the <i>hair<\/i> who still thought playing the Smiths was cool.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oi! Zayn!\" Louis kicks out at him, now. \"We keep roommate secrets to ourselves, okay.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You <i>hated<\/i> me?\" Harry says again, sounding like Louis had announced that the world was actually about to end. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Come on, mate, you didn't like me either.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry blushes. \"I never disliked you!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Really,\" Louis says dryly, \"because I seem to remember overhearing you talking to Cher and saying something about how a Top 40 pop show really had no place on a university station and that that <i>Louis guy<\/i> talked too much.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't remember saying that,\" Harry says. \"I don't remember even <i>thinking<\/i> that.\"  He's staring down at his plate now, brow furrowed. <br \/><br \/>Louis nudges him with his knee. \"Hey, Haz, it's cool. Look where we are now, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I can't believe you <i>hated<\/i> me.\" Harry doesn't look up from his food, his fork running through his mashed potatoes all droopily. <br \/><br \/>Louis looks at Zayn and gives him a wide-eyed <i>fix this<\/i> look. Zayn stares back at him, mystified. <br \/><br \/>\"Harry, mate, it wasn't a big deal. He obviously loves you now, he definitely ditched me \u2013 the only good roommate in the entire world \u2013 for you,\" Zayn says. Liam snorts loudly. <br \/><br \/>Harry gives Zayn a little smile. \"Yeah, I guess. I'm pretty charming.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis sighs. \"Okay, can we change the subject, please? Don't want my little nursemaid moping about all evening.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>Harry's noticeably subdued as they're walking back to their flat after dinner. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey. Come on, Hazza. It's not a big deal,\" Louis says quietly. <br \/><br \/>Harry glances at him and quickly shifts his eyes back to the ground, burrowing his hands deeper into his pocket. \"I'm so sorry I said that, Lou,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. \"Harry! It was three years ago! We became friends like four months after it happened! I'm clearly over it!\"<br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip. \"I do love your show, you know.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis laughs. \"No, you don't. And that's fine, mate, really.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I listen every week!\" Harry protests. <br \/><br \/>Louis gives him a slightly disbelieving look. \"Bollocks. <i>Why<\/i>? You hate my taste in music.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well, sort of,\" Harry concedes, \"but not entirely, I mean, it reminds me of you and I love hearing you talk. Your agony aunt bit is quite wonderful, also. It's definitely how I'm going to get relationship advice.\" Harry kicks a foot at Louis's ankle and Louis laughs, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulders. <br \/><br \/>\"You should write in,\" Louis says. \"<i>Dear Louis<\/i>,\" he affects a high-pitched singsong voice now, \"<i>I'm so upset! My best friend in the entire world is just so much cooler than me and it hurts so much because I've built my entire being based on the fact I'm the coolest boy alive! What do I do?! Sincerely, Brooding Under Morose Moonlight In  Northern Germany.<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"The acronyms are your favourite parts, aren't they?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Totally,\" Louis says. \"I love it when people find themselves clever.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, play me a song next week, okay?\" Harry says, pushing himself closer to Louis. Louis tightens his arm around him. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay. What do you want?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I dunno.\" Harry shrugs. \"Surprise me.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis hums to himself thoughtfully. \"Alright. But I expect the same, mister.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head. \"I <i>always<\/i> have a song for you, you prat.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says, knocking his head against Harry's gently, smiling. \"Yeah, you do.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"I hope everyone is have a brilliant evening, you wonderful people,\" Louis says into the microphone the next week. \"That was Queen Britney's 'Inside Out' from her <i>Femme Fatale<\/i> album, which, quite honestly, might be her best since <i>Oops...<\/i>. We've got some time for an email now, and as always, feel free to send me your personal troubles to louis-at-chaos-radio-dot-co-uk! This is from Too Pathetic For Acronyms \u2013 which, I gotta say, is kind of harshing my vibe here, but I'll go with it \u2013 and they say, <i>dear louis, i'm in love with my best friend but he doesn't take me seriously! what do i do? ps. you're the best agony aunt ever xoxoxo.<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>Louis leans back in his chair, throwing his feet up on the desk. \"Well, Pathetic, thanks for the compliment, that truly warms the cockles of my heart. And your situation is tricky! I assume you don't want to risk losing that friendship, but obviously you're unsatisfied with just being his friend, so there's kind of a fragile balance there. I guess you just have to judge whether the potential benefits outweigh the potential losses? Because if he shoots you down, no matter how nice he is about it, it's going to be incredibly hard to stay his friend. We've all had crushes like that, and it's a bit difficult to overcome the hurt, at least for awhile. I'm a big proponent of honesty, but you've got to go in knowing there's a good chance losing him. But there's also a chance he likes you back! Go with your gut, my friend, and let me know how it turns out!\"<br \/><br \/>Sitting back up and scrolling through his playlist, Louis leans into the microphone. \"Speaking of best friends, actually, here's a song for mine. He's going to hate it and that's okay, because this has been Piss off If You Don't Like it, and I've been Louis Tomlinson. Here's some exit music in the form of Taylor Swift's 'Our Song,' all for Hazza, who's up next. Have a great night, kiddos.\" He hits play and pulls off his headphones, unplugging them, and letting the song flood through the studio, just as Harry walks in, dusting snow from his hair. <br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him with a smile curling across his entire face, pulling his eyes into squints. \"You're the worst.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis grins. \"You love me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate hate hate hate hate Taylor Swift and you <i>know<\/i> it, arsehole,\" Harry says, laughing. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>When we're on the phone and you talk reaaal slow<\/i>,\" Louis yells along to the music, \"<i>cos it's late and your mama don't know<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry mimes vomiting all over Louis and Louis bats him away, smiling up at him. \"I expect something wonderful tonight, babe,\" Louis says.<br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head, trying to not laugh. \"I don't know if I can improve upon this.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I <i>am<\/i> fantastic,\" Louis allows. \"It'll be hard.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"You compliment yourself enough for the rest of us. Get out of here, I know you have that Keats analysis due tomorrow.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay, okay,\" Louis says, hauling himself up and shoving his laptop and papers into his bag. \"Have a good show, yeah? Try not to play the most depressing shit ever.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry sticks out his tongue <i>like a five year old<\/i>, and sets up his own laptop, leaning into the mic as the Taylor Swift fades out. \"Hey, wankers, it's Harry Styles with Manic Underachievers. Now for a refreshing change of pace, here's Wye Oak with 'Holy Holy.' Finish your homework before getting drunk, you hear?\" He leans back and smiles one more time at Louis, who's standing in the doorway. \"See you later,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Bye, Haz,\" Louis says fondly.<br \/><br \/>Louis hurries back to the flat through the slowly drifting snow, pausing briefly to stare up at the sky through the glow of the streetlamps lighting the campus. When he gets back, he's shivering and sniffling, and he pulls off his clothes quickly and grabs a jumper off the back of the couch, smiling softly when he pulls it over his head, overwhelmed with the distinct smell of Harry's cologne and shampoo. He turns on the radio and curls up on the couch with Keats, sinking into the sound of Cities' 'Writing on the Wall.' <br \/><br \/>He must doze off for a moment, because he jerks awake to the sound of Harry's slow drawl.<br \/><br \/>\"Alright, guys, that was 'Truths Arise' by Red Sparowes, with Cities before that. This next song is for Louis, because though he subjects us to Taylor Swift, we still love him. Here's Two Door Cinema Club with 'Something Good Can Work.'\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and pushes his books to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and curling down around himself. He texts Harry quickly.<br \/><br \/><i>why are you so nice when im a dick?? i love this song. also the royal we, haz? really..<\/i><br \/><br \/>Harry texts back, <i>we're just a better person than you, luv.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis rolls his eyes. <i>now you just sound schizo<\/i><br \/><br \/><i>finish your homework, i'll be home soon xx<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis sighs and pulls his blanket around him tighter. He hates it when Zayn's right, he really does, but honestly, sometimes he feels like he and Harry <i>are<\/i> dating. And it's weird, right, because Harry's been his best friend for years now and maybe at first there was a bit of <i>what if<\/i> and <i>he's fit<\/i> and <i>we get on so well<\/i> and all that, and Louis is used to feeling that way when he makes new friends, because new people are lovely and shiny and puzzling and wonderful. But the problem is that Harry's still fit and they still get on so well and he's still lovely and shiny and puzzling and wonderful and Louis has this space inside him, this Harry-space, that's all warmth and light and safety and he doesn't know how to loosen this <i>hold<\/i> Harry has on him, this unwavering desire to be around him all the time. He doesn't know how to not miss him or not want to hear him laugh or not want to give him cuddles. <br \/><br \/>And he knows Harry feels similarly; they don't hide it well. They don't hide how relaxed they make each other, how an arm around the shoulder leads to heads tipped together leads to thighs pressed leads to overlapping limbs leads to spooning on Liam and Zayn's couch during movie nights. They don't hide how they're the first to know everything that happens to each other during any given day. They don't hide how their eyes light up when they walk into a room. And it's worrisome to Louis, honestly, because he doesn't know how he'll cope when Harry finds someone who he has all that with <i>plus<\/i> actually, like, getting laid. He doesn't know how he'll deal with that, how he'll deal with losing what sets he and Harry apart from everyone else. He's never shared well \u2013 too used to protecting what's <i>his<\/i> from a family of seven, and Harry's quickly become his favourite thing, his most important thing. <br \/><br \/>Louis gets lost in his thoughts for a long time. Too long, really, because he's very carefully created a locked box in his brain for this train of thought.  Here be monsters, it says in big gothic print above the steel padlock. <br \/><br \/>The door slams and Louis jerks. Harry drops his jacket in the entry way and does a running leap, landing on top of Louis, forcing all the air out of his lungs in one huge whoosh. <br \/><br \/>\"Whatcha doin'?\" Harry asks, peering into Louis's face from centimeters away, grinning like a maniac. <br \/><br \/>Louis groans, feigning agony. \"Dying, now, thanks to this lump of boy on top of me.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry laughs. \"I thought you liked boys on top of you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Louis says, feeling his cheeks redden <i>completely against his will<\/i>. Here be monsters, he reminds himself. \"How dare you say such a thing about my virtue?\"<br \/><br \/>Smiling kind of softly, Harry shifts to sit in the gap between the back of the couch and Louis's legs, throwing his own legs over Louis's thighs. \"Did you like the show?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Always,\" Louis says. \"I like it when you play songs instead of just noise.\" <br \/><br \/>Harry shakes his head ruefully. \"You need some serious music tutelage, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis smirks. \"Says the boy who <i>dares<\/i> to hate Taylor Swift.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm going to kill you,\" Harry says, leaning over and digging his fingers into Louis's side, where he knows he's most ticklish. <br \/><br \/>\"You're Satan's bit on the side!\" Louis gasps, writhing away from Harry uselessly. They end up collapsed together, breathing heavily, with Harry's head pressed against Louis's heartbeat. Louis brings his hand up to card through Harry's curls and Harry sighs gently. <br \/><br \/>\"Should get to bed,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" says Louis. <br \/><br \/>They don't move until the sun hits them the next morning.<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next three days are filled with torrential snow \u2013 enough so classes get cancelled, which Niall calls a bloody fucking miracle. <br \/><br \/>On Thursday, Louis finds himself alone in the flat, bored out of his mind. He checks his emails, reads over some of the many lonely girl problems in his inbox, and halfheartedly starts putting together a playlist. He doesn't know where Harry is and that makes him restless and twitchy. <br \/><br \/>He eventually texts Zayn. <br \/><br \/><i>snowball fight?<\/i><br \/><br \/>Zayn responds immediately. <br \/><br \/><i>as if, princess. walk?<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis smiles. <br \/><br \/><i>meet me in the quad in five<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Louis grabs his jacket and pulls on his wellies and a beanie before trudging out into the frankly apocalyptic tundra England has descended into. <br \/><br \/>Zayn's waiting for him, leaning against a lamppost, smoking a fag. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright?\" Zayn says. <br \/><br \/>Louis smiles and walks into him, burying his hands under Zayn's jumper. \"Cold, cold, cold, Zayner.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn smiles and pulls Louis into a hug. \"You're always cold.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Louis says. \"If I get sick again like I was last week, someone might die.\"<br \/><br \/>\"What have you been doing with your day off, mate?\" Zayn asks as they start walking down the partially cleared pathway. Louis thinks the groundskeepers have given up, and honestly, he would too. The snow is still falling, creating a hazy shroud of white with a three hundred and sixty degree radius. <br \/><br \/>\"Nothing,\" Louis says. \"Absolutely bloody nothing. I'm losing my mind.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah. Yeah, you're no good when you're bored.\" Zayn flicks his ash, and it hits the snow with a hissing sound. Louis kind of wants to take up smoking, simply to drop lit cigarettes in snow. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm always good, how very dare you. Have you heard from Harry? He left early this morning and I haven't seen him.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs and looks at Louis curiously. \"Can you honestly not go a day without him?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Shut up,\" Louis says, pulling his jacket around him tighter. <br \/><br \/>Zayn sighs. \"Are you ever gonna do anything with that situation?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Excuse me? What situation?\" Louis says. <br \/><br \/>\"Um. The situation where you two are so fucking in love you don't even look at anyone else? Honestly, Lou, have you gotten laid since you met him?\" Zayn sounds frustrated now, which Louis thinks isn't fair. <i>Zayn's<\/i> getting laid all the bloody time. <br \/><br \/>\"Yes!\" Louis says. \"As a matter of fact, I have. Remember Jamie? And there was Henry, too.\"<br \/><br \/>Arching an eyebrow, Zayn follows up with, \"Since you started living together?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis slumps down and shrugs. \"It'd be weird to bring someone back to the flat. I don't know. It doesn't have to be a <i>thing<\/i>, Zayn. We're fine the way we are.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says. \"Yeah, but what if <i>he<\/i> brings someone back? Would that be fine?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Harry's his own person and perfectly capable of making his own decisions,\" Louis sniffs. \"He can do whatever he wants.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn breathes out slowly. \"But how would you feel, Lou?\"<br \/><br \/>\"It doesn't matter how I would feel!\" Louis deflects. <br \/><br \/>Zayn stops walking and turns to face Louis. \"Seriously, Louis, we all know you're in love with him. <i>You<\/i> know you're in love with him. The only thing you're doing by ignoring it is pushing him away.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis is quiet for a long time, and they resume their walk. Zayn lights another cigarette, content with letting Louis think. <br \/><br \/>After a few minutes, Louis says, \"I don't want to mess with it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn says. \"But you're gonna miss your chance.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis punches him lightly in the arm. He's very done with this conversation. \"Oi,\" he says. \"<i>I'm<\/i> the agony aunt here, mate, step off my territory, yeah?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn just shakes his head, disappointed. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>When Louis gets back to the flat, he has an intense and primal craving for pancakes. After pulling off his chronically wet clothes, he throws on Harry's sweatpants and another one of Harry's jumpers and pads into the kitchen, plugging his iPod into the stereo. He busies himself with making pancakes and singing as loudly as he can for the next ten minutes. <br \/><br \/>\"<i>Did you tell him? NO NO NO. Give him kisses? NO NO NO. Whisper honey? NO NO NO. You're god delicious? HELL NO!<\/i>\" Louis shouts into his pancake batter, shaking his arse ridiculously. <br \/><br \/>\"Um. Lou?\" comes a voice from behind him.<br \/><br \/>Louis whips around and quickly turns the music down, blushing bright red. Harry's standing in the doorway looking simultaneously amused and bemused and there's a tall boy with a floppy quiff hovering behind him. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh!\" Louis says, trying like mad to regain some semblance of dignity. \"Hello! I'm, um. Pancakes!\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Harry says, nodding slowly. \"Um, so, this is Aiden. Aiden, this is my flatmate Louis. He, um, really likes Cheryl Cole.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis quickly pastes on a smile in Aiden's direction and says, \"I'd go straight for Chezza, I can't lie.\"<br \/><br \/>Aiden's eyes are wide, as if Louis is some sort of strange woodland animal, and he says, \"Well. I mean. Who wouldn't?\" <br \/><br \/>Louis winks and Harry barks a laugh. \"Right,\" Harry says. \"Well, um. We'll just be in my room, I guess. See you later, Lou.\" Harry tugs on Aiden's beltloop and they turn and disappear down the hallway. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Louis says faintly. \"See you.\" He glances down at his pancakes, suddenly not so hungry. <br \/><br \/><i>haz brought someone back. did you know or are you just bad luck<\/i>, Louis texts Zayn. <br \/><br \/>Zayn texts back almost immediately. <i>i knew he was talking to aiden, i didn't think it'd be that fast. sorry lou. wanna come over? li's here, could watch a movie.<\/i><br \/><br \/><i>think im gonna wallow thx m8 x<\/i>, Louis sends, and turns off his phone. He puts the pancake mix in the fridge and pulls his coat and boots back on, trudging out back into the wasteland to the library. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>When he finally deems it safe enough to venture back to the flat \u2013 two hours later, because no one can go for two hours, right? \u2013 Louis makes to walk straight into his bedroom, but Harry's voice stops him.<br \/><br \/>\"That you, Lou?\"<br \/><br \/>Bracing himself for a quaint view of post-coital cuddling, Louis puts his smile on well before he walks into the living room. Harry's alone, curled on the couch, with footie on the telly. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says, and sits down on the other end, giving Harry way more space than he ever has. <br \/><br \/>Harry throws him a strange look at that, and says, \"Where've you been?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs. \"Thought I'd clear off, you know. Give you some privacy.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry has a pained expression on his face. \"Didn't have to do that.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis forces a little smile. \"Not a problem at all, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, okay.\" Harry sighs, turning back to the TV. \"Think the Baggies can stay up this year?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis pulls his feet under him and sticks his freezing hands in the fold of his knees. \"They did crush Liverpool in the opener, so, you know, there's a chance. I'm thinking Newcastle's the side to watch, honestly.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry says. \"C'mere. You look cold.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and tries to feel like this entire day hasn't been one massive punch in the gut. He crawls over to Harry dutifully, curling himself around his warm body. \"Missed you,\" he whispers into Harry's curls, unable to help himself.<br \/><br \/>Harry's arms tighten around him. \"Yeah, Lou, me too.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>\"Alright, lovelies, that was a reminder to all you nineties babies out there that the Backstreet Boys are still the greatest boyband to grace the earth. That was 'If I Knew Then' from their 2006 album. Still relevant, bitches!\" Louis honestly doesn't know if he's allowed to say that. <br \/><br \/>\"But now, we have a followup from our dear friend Too Pathetic For Acronyms, and they say, <i>dear louis, i'm so confused about my best friend! he acts like he's into me and all our friends say he is, but he backs off whenever i try to push things. i even made him think i got with another guy last week and he didn't care at all! what should i do?<\/i>\" Louis holds in his sigh when he finishes reading the email. He really doesn't want to deal with some girl's drama right now, but this is technically his job. <br \/><br \/>\"Alright, Pathetic, the name is getting a bit biographical, yeah? Don't play mindgames, okay? That's just shitty. There's a good chance he feels awful about it and is pretending not to because he wants you to be happy. There's a good chance he's into you but he thinks you're not into him. I don't know what you expect me to say, really, because you know the only answer here is to tell him how you feel. Write back when you've done that and not before, got me?\" He can't quite tell if he's being too short, too honest, too blunt, but he doesn't care. This is just another punch in the stomach in a long line of punches in the stomach. Harry's been absent from the flat a lot more than usual and when he comes back he looks all ruffled and cheerful and it's killing Louis, a little, and he hates himself for it. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't know how he and Harry got through two years of being this close, and a year and a half of living together without either of them dating, but they did. And now Harry is very much <i>dating<\/i> and Louis honestly didn't realise how fucking much he relied on  Harry, on Harry's constant presence, constant emotional availability until he lost it. It's sickening, is what it is. No fucking wonder he likes pop songs so much, really, because he is the fucking essence of a pop song. Gross. He loves Taylor Swift, he does, but he's never wanted to <i>relate<\/i> to her. Christ.<br \/><br \/>\"And now here's my weekly dedication to our very own Harry Styles. This is 'Hips Don't Lie' by la princesa Shakira. This has been Piss Off and I've been Louis Tomlinson.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flips off the mic and leans back in the chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. Warm fingers suddenly dig into his shoulders, pulling at the muscles, and Louis tilts his head back, gazing up at Harry. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Harry says, smiling through his fringe. \"Love this one, thanks, mate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You'd have to be dead not to,\" Louis says, closing his eyes as Harry works a particularly tense spot. <br \/><br \/>\"You okay?\" Harry asks as he keeps his hands moving.<br \/><br \/>\"Always,\" Louis says. \"Don't stop.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You've been a bit quiet lately.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shrugs as much as he can with Harry's hands on him. \"Dunno. Bit weird without you around.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry bites his lip and looks guilty, which makes Louis feel even worse. \"But, like, come on, I totally understand,\" Louis adds, putting on a smile. \"I almost remember dating. I remember it being nice.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sure,\" Harry says, but he shakes his head and still looks sad. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Louis says, sitting up and pulling away. \"Hey, Harry, come on, stop. It's good. I'm happy for you!\"<br \/><br \/>Harry looks at him for a moment, then nods shortly. He pulls the microphone toward him and says quickly, \"Good evening, douchebags. Harry Styles here. This is the Smiths with 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now.' Enjoy.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis chokes out a laugh as Harry switches off the mic. \"Seriously, Haz? You get a boyfriend and play this shit?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry rolls his eyes. \"Don't you have homework or something?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis tries not to notice that Harry usually know his assignments better than <i>he<\/i> does and grins instead. \"Not tonight, babe. Shall I keep you company? Have you not missed me? Have you completely replaced me?\"<br \/><br \/>He also tries not to be scared of the answer.<br \/><br \/>Harry gives him a sharp look, all hurt dark eyes. \"I know I haven't been around much in the past few days, but...\"<br \/><br \/>Louis lets out a light laugh. \"Sorry, oh my god, Harry, I'm just kidding. Obviously I know I'm irreplaceable.\" He shines a bright grin in Harry's direction. \"My sparkling personality and fantastic arse, I mean, <i>come on<\/i>, you'd need to start dating a Kardashian before I'd believe I've been replaced.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry relaxes a little and shakes his head with a little chuckle. \"You're so insane.\" He reaches a hand out in Louis's direction and Louis takes it, twining their fingers together.<br \/><br \/>\"Have missed you, Lou,\" Harry whispers. Louis tightens his grip. <br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>A few days later, the five of them finally manage to grab dinner together again. They find a table in the corner of the dining hall, somewhat pushed away from the intense noise of the dinner rush. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, Haz,\" Niall says, with a full mouth. Louis curls his lip. \"I hear you've got a fella, yeah? Why didn't you bring him along?\"<br \/><br \/>Harry tenses noticeably. \"It's really actually nothing. We're just hanging out. He's helping me with a paper.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis flinches at that and Zayn glances at him worriedly. <br \/><br \/>Liam says, \"Wait, you live with an English student and you're off with some other bloke for help?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis quite literally wants raise his shirt and check his stomach for bruises. \"I'm gonna grab a biscuit, anyone want?\" he asks, walking off before anyone has the chance to answer. <br \/><br \/>When he makes it back to the table, the subject has been very decidedly changed and Harry pulls Louis closer, wraps his arm around Louis's shoulders. Louis tilts his head to nudge against Harry's, despite himself. <br \/><br \/>Zayn pulls him aside after dinner. \"Can we talk?\" he says shortly. Louis sighs, nods, and turns back to Harry, who's waiting for him.<br \/><br \/>\"Meet you back at the flat, Haz?\" he says. Harry's mouth pulls down but he nods and takes off. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Louis says, turning back to Zayn. \"I'm almost completely sure I don't want to have this conversation, so let's make it quick.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn nods and walks outside, lighting a fag. \"So I was talking to Matt Cardle the other day. He's in one of my studio classes.\" Louis nods, for lack of anything better. He has no idea who Matt Cardle is. <br \/><br \/>\"Anyway,\" Zayn says. \"He's dating Aiden Grimshaw.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis blinks. \"Harry? Yeah, mate, I got that one, thanks for the reminder.\"<br \/><br \/>\"No, you twat,\" Zayn snaps. \"Matt is. Aiden and Harry really have just been working on a paper.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis steps back a little. \"That's bullshit, Zayn. Harry's <i>said<\/i> they were dating.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn considers Louis, shadows falling across his face. \"Has he really, though?\"<br \/><br \/>Louis thinks back, opens his mouth. Closes it. \"I\u2013\" he starts, and Zayn looks smug in a pitying way. \"No, fuck off, he's never once denied it. I've mentioned it way more often than I'd like to. I've been <i>supportive<\/i>, god. He's never denied it.\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn shrugs. \"Maybe you two are doing some sort of weird dance around each other, yeah? Maybe he's letting you think something to be passive-aggressive and maybe you're moping around miserably because it's working.\"<br \/><br \/>\"But that'd be <i>mean<\/i>,\" Louis protests. \"Harry's not mean.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Zayn agrees. \"But maybe he's fed up.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head and stares off into the darkness of the quad. \"You think you're pretty fucking wise, don't you, mate?\"<br \/><br \/>Zayn laughs a little, shakes his head. \"You two are just super fucking stupid. It's not my fault I look brilliant in comparison.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I hate you,\" Louis says, his voice thoughtful.<br \/><br \/>\"Gonna do something?\" Zayn asks, flicking his glowing butt into the shrubs behind him.<br \/><br \/>Louis runs a hand through his hair. \"Might have to, I guess. Gonna get more fucked up if this goes on.\"<br \/><br \/>\"That's the spirit,\" Zayn says. \"Good lad.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shut the fuck up.\"<br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/>The next week, Louis settles into the chair at the studio at the top of the hour and takes a deep breath. \"Good evening, beautiful people. I'm going to start off this show with a quick apology. I've been giving a lot of advice lately and not been taking any myself, and that's kind of hypocritical, yeah? So here's your first song and it's dedicated to Harry Styles. This is 'You Belong With Me' by our favourite straight white girl, Taylor Swift. So. I \u2013 yeah. For Harry.\"<br \/><br \/>He clicks off the mic and slumps onto the desk, resting his head on his forearms. His phone's been shut off all day and Harry's been avoiding him subtly for the past five days and he doesn't know what to do, really. He's on some sort of last-gasp, death-rattle shit right now. He's been avoiding the flat because Harry's been avoiding the flat and he can't stand being there when Harry's not, so he curls up on Zayn's couch and mopes off to Niall's when Zayn not-so-gently kicks him out to have sex with his <i>boyfriend<\/i> \u2013 which, like, thanks \u2013 and Niall just pats him on the head and shoves an XBOX controller in his hand and a slice of pizza in his mouth. And it's not fine, but it sort of is. He sees Harry briefly and they're so forcibly normal. So normal with their banter and their smiles and Louis actually feels like he's being stretched tighter and tighter. He just wants to scream something, like, <i>I know you're not fucking Aiden<\/i>, or, like, <i>Why are you doing this to me<\/i>, and it's ridiculous, because who know that Harry <i>not<\/i> fucking someone else would hurt more than if he actually were?<br \/><br \/>The song begins its fade out and Louis clicks back on. \"Again, that was Taylor Swift, and here's 'Painted By Numbers' by the Sounds. Enjoy.\"<br \/><br \/>He leans back in his chair, staring at the celing, when his email dings. He glances down at it, groaning slightly when he sees it's another lonely girl problem. <br \/><br \/>As the song fades out, he leans back in and says, \"Alright, folks, we just got another email from the lovely Too Pathetic For Acronyms. I told them not to write back until there was development, so let's see what they say. <i>dear louis<\/i>,\" Louis reads, \"<i>you're right. mindgames are shitty and i feel awful about it. if you could see that i'm the one who understands you, been here all along\u2013<\/i>\" Louis stops.<br \/><br \/>Oh, <i>fuck<\/i> no. He fumbles for a moment, staring blankly at the computer screen, drawn so tight he might crumble into powder.<br \/><br \/>\"I\u2013 um. Okay. Here's Justin Timblerlake with 'My Love.'\" Louis quickly plays the song with shaking hands and pulls out his phone, turning it on.<br \/><br \/><i>are you serious<\/i>, he types. <br \/><br \/><i>i still hate taylor swift, lou<\/i>, Harry sends back.<br \/><br \/><i>harry. are you serious<\/i>.<br \/><br \/><i>come on, lou. everyone knew.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Louis bites his lip and tenses his jaw and finishes the last half hour of his show with every muscle in his body strained to the point of breaking. \"Thanks for listening, everyone,\" he finally says. \"This has been Piss Off and I've been Louis Tomlinson. Playing you out is N*E*R*D with 'Love Bomb.'\"<br \/><br \/>There's the slightest noise of a door opening behind him, and Louis turns around. Harry's standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, biting his lip. <br \/><br \/>Louis stands up, and can't move any further. He stands in the middle of the room and stares at Harry in the doorway and he <i>can't move<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>Harry makes a small noise and takes a few steps forward. \"No, okay. I need us to say this. With real words, not shitty songs. For once in our life, can we say something with real words?\" His voice is desperate and cracking and Louis wants to touch him, wants to hold him, wants to tell him that it'll be okay, that he loves him. But he <i>can't fucking move<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>Harry stares at him, waiting for an answer, and Louis just stares back, eyes wide and heart beating so fast he's surprised it hasn't split his chest open.<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Harry looks down. \"Okay, so, I love you. And I've loved you for a long time, alright? And we were so perfect, but I guess I thought we'd never really get to where I thought we should be? So I did some stupid things. I wrote into your lonely girl problems radio show, Louis. That's how desperate I was.\" Harry glances up at him through his stupid curls and gives a smirk. Louis just stares. <br \/><br \/>\"And just. You got the wrong idea with Aiden and I didn't correct you because I thought you'd <i>do something<\/i>, but you didn't, you were so lovely about it and that just made everything worse and I just. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for jerking you around, you know? But I just. I just couldn't do it anymore.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis opens his mouth and then he closes it again. Harry makes a frustrated noise. \"Louis. Please say something. The song's about to end.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis can't. He honestly fucking can't and if someone has a gun in the near vicinity he's sending out mass telepathic messages to fucking blow his brains out because he is <i>the worst<\/i> but he just. Cannot say anything.<br \/><br \/>Harry sighs, and sits down, queuing up his playlist. \"Hey, guys,\" he says quietly. \"This is Harry, and there's a theme for tonight, so just go with it. This is Stars with 'My Favourite Book.'\"<br \/><br \/>Harry presses play and flips off the mic. He looks back up at Louis. \"Lou,\" he says softly. \"Lou, come on, it's just me.\"<br \/><br \/>And, yeah. Yeah. It's <i>Harry<\/i>. Harry, who knows every fucking thing about him, who holds him every time he's upset, who's always loved him in some way, in some tangible, visible, visceral way. It's Harry, now, and Louis loves him. <br \/><br \/>\"I love you,\" Louis says and he chokes a little and Harry's there and Harry's got these big hands on his jaw and he's tilting his face up.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Harry says.<br \/><br \/>Louis nods. He nods and he closes his eyes and he says, \"I was so scared I was gonna lose you, you know? And I just. I just always have loved you and I don't like it when you're not around me and you've never not been wonderful.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Harry says again, and Louis looks up to see Harry's red lips curl up into a stupid happy smile and he feels himself start to smile, too. A small giggle bubbles up from some-fucking-where inside him and suddenly he's <i>laughing<\/i> \u2013 he's fucking <i>laughing<\/i> and Harry's laughing too and Louis buries his face in Harry's shoulder. Harry's hand swipes down his back and his other one reaches out for Louis's. Louis locks their fingers together. <br \/><br \/>\"We're so stupid,\" Louis whispers.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah?\" Harry says one more time, still laughing a little, and Louis shakes his head with a smile and leans up to press a kiss on Harry's stupid red mouth. <br \/><br \/>Harry pulls away after a second and Louis says, \"No, what? Stop,\" and Harry rolls his eyes, gesturing to the mic. He segues into 'Something In The Way She Moves' \u2013 Radiohead's cover, of fucking course, that hipsterfuck \u2013\u00a0and reaches back out to Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"Gonna be for real, now, right?\" Harry asks, kind of tentatively. <br \/><br \/>Louis plops himself down on Harry's lap, fitting himself to the curve of his body, like he's done so many times before. \"Can we still talk through songs?\" he says, tilting his head back onto Harry's shoulder. <br \/><br \/>Harry huffs a small laugh in his ear. \"<i>I'm thinkin' it's a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis turns himself slightly, fitting his mouth to Harry's, pressing in and licking at Harry's bottom lip, pushing in when Harry's mouth opens. Harry's hands curve around his hips, squeezing gently, and Louis brings his own hands up to wind in Harry's hair, pulling him closer. <br \/><br \/>Louis leans back slightly for a moment. \"Everyone's going to be sickened by us.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smirks. \"We're going to be the cutest couple in the world.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm going to dedicate the sappiest songs to you.\" Louis.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm going to make you breakfast every day.\" Harry.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not going to let you out of the flat for days at a time.\" Louis. <br \/><br \/>\"I'm going to leave post-it notes with stupid lyrics around the entire campus.\" Harry.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm\u2013\" Louis starts, and Harry cuts him off with a quick finger to his lips. <br \/><br \/>He leans into the mic. \"This next one is called 'Fasten You To Me' by the Belle Brigade.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis presses his face into Harry's neck, hiding his smile. <br \/><br \/>\"You were saying?\" Harry prompts. <br \/><br \/>Louis shakes his head. \"I love you.\"<br \/><br \/>Harry smiles at him. \"It's weirdly freeing to say that, isn't it? I love you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I love you,\" Louis repeats. \"Yeah, wow, it is.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I love you,\" Harry says again, laughing a little.<br \/><br \/>Louis's phone rings, suddenly. It's Zayn. He answers it, after pulling a face at Harry. \"Yes?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Tell Harry,\" Zayn says, voice unreadable, \"that he fucking <i>left the mic on<\/i>.\"<br \/><br \/>Louis takes one look at Harry's horrified expression and starts laughing. \"Everyone knew, Haz, you said. Now everyone <i>knows<\/i>.\"<\/div>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:dangerbears:7485","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/7485.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=7485"}}],"title":"masterlist","published":"2012-08-20T21:26:21Z","updated":"2013-10-28T23:57:59Z","content":"<center><\/center><br \/><div style=\"padding:50px\"><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/1992.html\" target=\"_blank\">don't give up on us quite yet<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles, zayn malik\/liam payne) <i>AU. louis is kind of a mess and harry is kind of perfect and zayn is kind of dumb and protective and they all work in a restaurant sometimes.<\/i><br \/>\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013 <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/3601.html\" target=\"_blank\">prequel<\/a> | <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/2948.html\" target=\"_blank\">sequel<\/a><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/5233.html\" target=\"_blank\">of all the stars most beautiful<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles, zayn malik\/liam payne) <i>AU. when isn't the right time for a bookshop fic? louis sells books and harry makes sandwiches and zayn meets someone on the internet.<\/i><br \/>\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013 <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/9297.html\" target=\"_blank\">timestamp<\/a><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/6589.html\" target=\"_blank\">sing along and it might just get you through<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. what happens when a northern indierocker stumbles across a teenybopper popstar in the middle of the street in manchester, basically.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/7227.html\" target=\"_blank\">rise from your burning fiat<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/zayn malik) <i>AU of the high school variety. louis and zayn have always been best friends and they always will be, no matter how much time they let pass.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/8526.html\" target=\"_blank\">blackjacks running down my back<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles, peripheral zayn malik\/liam payne) <i>AU. university stuff. best friend stuff. music stuff. sappy stuff.<\/i><br \/>\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013\u2013 <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/12933.html\" target=\"_blank\">sequel<\/a><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/10651.html\" target=\"_blank\">we took the slow way<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles, zayn malik\/liam payne) <i>AU. liam and louis teach kindergarten and harry styles has a kid and zayn is a dj and it's all very complicated for various reasons.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/11252.html\" target=\"_blank\">if not the happiest, surely the luckiest<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/zayn malik) <i>AU. reform boarding school for the obscenely wealthy, essentially. zayn is new and louis is hot shit.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/12324.html\" target=\"_blank\">your translation's just a little off<\/a>: (nick grimshaw\/louis tomlinson) <i> AU. so louis kind of doesn't like nick. like at all. really. he swears.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/13466.html\" target=\"_blank\">captain's privilege<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>non-AU. it's a steak and blowjob kind of night. (post-match head, essentially.)<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/14143.html\" target=\"_blank\">bring your love, it's on your tongue<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles, zayn malik\/liam payne) <i>AU. louis ran away to spain after a breakup and now he's back to a snowy london winter and this kid allegedly called harry styles. <\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/14560.html\" target=\"_blank\">how do you like your blue-eyed boy?<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. louis likes pills and harry likes whiskey and the church basement smells like sadness and mold. spoiler alert there's a happy ending.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/14838.html\" target=\"_blank\">lookin' so satisfied<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/nick grimshaw) <i> AU. nick's a big fat stupid jerk and he stole louis's favourite kitten.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/665238\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">could fly for freedom<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>what maybe probably should have could have maybe happened the night harry styles turned 19. (but most likely not.) aka a blowjob and weed and best friends. <\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15425.html\" target=\"_blank\">a runaway american dream<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets.  <\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/15976.html\" target=\"_blank\">like a simile, i paint suggestive pictures (of me and you)<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. louis is a TA for an english 101 class and harry is stupid gorgeous which of course leads to a morality crisis.  <\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/16248.html\" target=\"_blank\">drawing circles in water<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. it's high school; everything's the end of the goddamn world.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/16539.html\" target=\"_blank\">every day he wears the same thing; i think he smokes pot<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/niall horan) <i>AU. this is mostly meet-cute nonsense. also, it's very hot. temperature-wise. <\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/917284\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">a grocery list pinned to blue<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. after eight years, louis finally has everything he's wanted. except for harry.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/943140\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">tenderness flooded his voice<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. things collapse in on louis, but harry's there. harry's always there.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\u2014\u203a <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/1018539\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">harder to hide than i thought<\/a>: (louis tomlinson\/harry styles) <i>AU. ridiculous self-indulgent high school au. louis's best friend's little brother suddenly got very attractive.<\/i><br \/><br \/><br \/>*<br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.livejournal.com\/tag\/rec%20list\" target=\"_blank\">fic recommendations<\/a> and a running stream on <a href=\"http:\/\/dangerbears.tumblr.com\/tagged\/rex\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">tumblr.<\/a><\/div>"}]}