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It had been almost a year since Harry and Louis decided to “cool it for awhile.” More strictly speaking, since Louis had decided that maybe management was right to try and keep them apart—that his friendship with his younger bandmate was “probably not the healthiest in the world, if we’re being honest. C’mon Harry, even you have to be able to see that, at least.”
Almost a full year since Harry had effectively lost his best friend. Sure, they were still friendly, and got on well, but it wasn’t the same…wasn’t even close to the same kind of relationship that they’d had before, and Harry couldn’t help but feel as though a tiny part of him was dying each and every day of this fucking tour that he was supposed to have the time of his life on all because Louis was such a fucking cunt. Except…Harry was hopelessly in love with him. Still. Always.
And sure, it’s not like Harry had ever expected that anything would actually happen between them. He was more than well aware that Louis was hell bent on declaring his super-manly-straightness to whoever would listen. Harry half suspected that his questionable sexuality was one of the reasons he’d continued on with Eleanor as long as he had, even though everyone knew how unhappy they’d become. There was a time, once, when Louis would have confided in him, told him all about his concerns and feelings and confusion…
And Harry would have listened, just like he always had. He would have listened and given Louis his honest opinion, because no matter how badly he might want Louis to himself, he wanted his friend to be happy even more.
And that was just it, wasn’t it? Louis had always known that Harry was bisexual, and it had never been an issue. Ever. They were closer than close, and for the first time in his entire life, Harry felt like he had finally found someone who just understood. Who understood all of him—every crevice and crack and corner of his soul. Louis had always known that Harry was half in love with him, and Harry had always known that Louis had loved him, even if it was purely platonic. And it worked for them. Harry didn’t mind that Louis didn’t love him back in that way, because who would know better than he that you can’t change your sexuality no matter how hard you wish that you could. It wasn’t about that—it was never about that. The problem was that everything suddenly bothered Louis so much. His agreement with management about their friendship was like a stab in the back for Harry—a betrayal on the deepest level. It didn’t feel like Louis was trying to preserve the band’s image, because when the fuck did he ever really care about that, anyway? To Harry, it felt like an outright rejection. Not of Harry’s love, but of Harry himself.
And Harry wasn’t quite sure how to handle that. How to cope with the loss of so much. So, he didn’t cope. He didn’t process, or think about it, or even cry. He just threw himself into the persona that management so desperately wanted him to be. He became that person, and embraced it with everything he had. And sure, it wasn’t all bad, all the time. He had made some new friends, branched out a bit, and had a few laughs…
Except that Harry hated the new him. He hated everything about himself. He liked to go out and party, sure, but not because he had to be seen with a certain person. Not because his reputation and image relied upon it. His reputation…he loathed his fucking reputation. Harry didn’t use women; he never had and certainly never planned to. He was a shameless flirt, sure, but he didn’t usually let it go any further than that. Now, he was the playboy, the man of the hour, the party animal, and he had to be always on when all he really wanted to do was curl up on a large couch with a certain brown haired boy and drink tea while watching bad movies. That was Harry.
At least…that was Harry. Now, Harry didn’t even know who he was anymore.
The worst part of it all? He didn’t just lose his friendship with Louis, he had isolated himself more and more until his friendship with all of his bandmates was strained, and he had no idea how to even begin to fix it.
Harry had never imagined that one person, constantly surrounded by so many people, could ever feel so helplessly alone.
And that was how Harry had come to sit at the table on the tour bus, sitting still while life went on around him. They were driving to who knows where in Australia, and his bandmates were laughing all around him when suddenly everything caught up with Harry at once. How could everyone around him be so happy, while he felt so miserable? How could Louis be so happy? How could he?
Suddenly, Harry felt the familiar sting of tears pooling in his eyes. He hadn’t cried all year, and now, in the middle of Australia he was about to start? He would have laughed at the absurdity of it all if he didn’t so desperately just want to disappear.
Harry abruptly got up from the table, practically knocking Louis out of the way as he made a beeline for his bunk, the only place where he knew he could have a modicum of privacy while traveling at over 60 miles per hour. If he had shoved Louis a little harder than usual, good. He deserved it. Fucking prick.
The one flaw in Harry’s plan was that a hasty exit always draws attention…particularly when one steamrolls over their former best friend with tears in their eyes.
Harry heard a soft knock on the wood paneling outside of his bunk. He sniffled once, but didn’t answer, hoping that whoever it was would just take the hint and leave him alone.
Another knock, then, “Harry?” It was Louis. Fucking hell.
“M’sleeping,” Harry mumbled, figuring that Louis would take the easy out. It’s what he was good at, anyway.
Instead, Louis pulled back the curtain, letting the light from the bus shine in on Harry’s tear-stained face. Harry threw an arm over his face and sighed.
“What is it?”
“Hazza…” Louis started, but trailed off, looking genuinely concerned. “What’s wrong?”
The bitter irony of it all was almost enough to make Harry laugh, except that he felt like dying.
“Don’t,” Harry said softly. “Just…don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Louis asked.
“Pretend like you care,” Harry spat, more viciously than he had intended.
“Harry…of course I care,” Louis said softly, sounding genuinely bewildered.
The complete and utter gall that Louis had to say that made Harry snap his head up from under his arm, revealing to Louis his red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks as he fixed the older boy with a glare.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Louis, I’m so sick of your bullshit,” Harry bit out.
“Haz…” Louis said, reaching out to touch the younger boy, but Harry recoiled and Louis looked like he’d just been stabbed in the gut. Harry couldn’t deny a small amount of satisfaction from that. Louis deserved to know how it felt. “Budge over,” Louis said quietly, and Harry got a look of panic on his face. Surely Louis didn’t mean to actually get in bed with him? That would be breaking all of the rules.
But, that’s exactly what Louis did. He climbed in under the covers and cuddled close to Harry, just like it was a year ago and no time had passed at all. Harry wasn’t sure whether to knee him in the balls or pull him close and hug him. So he did neither, and just lay there staring pointedly at the ceiling, waiting for Louis to say something.
“Say something, Harry,” Louis prompted, and despite everything Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their similarities.
“I’m fine. Just a long day, yeah?”
“You’re clearly not fine.” Louis said, voice soft and concerned and so unlike anything Harry had heard come from the older boy in almost a year that Harry couldn’t help but start crying again.
“You don’t get to do this,” Harry said, voice thick and angry behind his tears. “You don’t get to pretend like you suddenly care about me when you’ve done nothing for almost an entire year except prove to the world that you couldn’t give two fucks about me.”
“Is that what you think?” Louis asked, the same bewildered tone enveloping his words.
“Of course it is!” Harry cried. “You did a good fucking job of it, too. Congratulations.”
“Harry, I never…” Louis trailed off, looking completely lost. “Harry, please stop crying,” Louis begged softly, his hand reaching out and gently wiping the tears from Harry’s eyes. The move was so gentle, so loving, and so Louis, that it just set Harry off into a fresh round of tears. “Hazza,” Louis whispered brokenly, throwing his arms around the younger boy and pulling him close, letting Harry cry into his shoulder.
“Stop,” Harry protested weakly. Couldn’t Louis see how much more this hurt? And Harry only hated himself all the more for being weak enough to allow it to happen.
“No,” Louis said firmly, tightening his hold on Harry, running his fingers through Harry’s curls.
It took a minute for Harry to get his emotions under control, and Louis just held him and waited patiently. The two boys lay in silence. Harry was too afraid to speak, knowing that once he did the moment would end, and even if that was all he could get of Louis for another year, he’d take it.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” Louis finally said, and his voice sounded so broken that Harry couldn’t help but look up at the older boy in bewilderment. To Harry’s astonishment, Louis actually had tears running down his face. In the three years that they’d known each other, Harry had never once seen Louis cry.
Nothing made sense anymore.
“I broke you, Harry,” Louis whispered, painfully. “You’re so beautiful and I broke you.”
Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so instead he focused on the fact that Louis called him beautiful. If nothing else, that was something that he could hold on to.
“I’m sorry,” Louis said genuinely. “I thought that I was helping you, letting you go. I didn’t realize…you never said anything.”
“Letting me go?” Harry asked incredulously, suddenly feeling as if he were going to be sick. “You were my best friend, Lou, where the fuck do you think I wanted to go, exactly?”
Louis had no answer.
“Did you think I wanted something to happen between us?” Harry asked, desperate for answers now that they’d begun. “Because fuck you, Louis Tomlinson. What, do you think I can’t control myself when I’m around you? Newsflash, I’m attracted to boys. Sometimes they like me back, sometimes they don’t. I’m a big boy, I can handle that. And you can’t say it was affecting our friendship because you know fucking well that it wasn’t. How could you even think that I’d let anything get between our friendship in the first place?” Harry asked incredulously. “It was only the most important friendship of my life, and—“
“I miss you every day,” Louis blurted out, interrupting Harry. “It’s like…this horrible, dead feeling inside of me that I can’t get to go away. And I’ve tried, I really have, but I’m at the end of my rope here. I thought that putting some distance between us would be for the best, and that with time everything would work itself out. That you’d be happy. I didn’t—I never really expected that I’d ever really be okay again, but that’s not really the point, is it?”
“Then what was the point?” Harry asked, completely bewildered as to why Louis had felt the need to put them both through so much.
Louis didn’t answer immediately. Harry wasn’t sure he was going to answer at all, until he said quietly, “You’re everywhere. In every room in our flat, in every cup of tea, in every smile and joke and l…you’re such a big part of who I am. I’m not as smart as you, Harry. It took me a little while to understand that there are some things that I just can’t control. That no matter how much distance I put between us, you’re still the most important thing in the world to me.”
“Louis,” Harry started softly, his eyes imploring, “I don’t understand. How is any of that bad? Why distance yourself in the first place? I’ve spent the last year convinced that you hated me and I just…I couldn’t figure out what I did or how to fix it, and…I don’t care about your reasons. I mean, I do, but more than anything I just want our friendship back. It’s like I’ve lost myself completely without you,” Harry admitted.
Harry turned his head, and his eyes met Louis’s. For the first time in almost a year, he looked at his friend. He really looked at him, and finally realized that the past year hadn’t been as easy on Louis as he’d imagined. The boy looked so much thinner, and sadder, and older, and Harry couldn’t believe that he’d let himself miss all of that. There was a time when Harry would have known the second Louis skipped a meal, even.
“I don’t hate you,” Louis said quietly. “I love you, probably too much. Don’t you see? You might be able to compartmentalize all those different parts of yourself, but not me. I knew that I wasn’t being fair to you.”
Harry wanted to scream, or beat his head against the wall repeatedly. All he wanted was answers, and all Louis was doing was talking in circles and giving him fucking excuses that didn’t make any sense.
“No,” Harry protested, angrily. “You know what wasn’t fair? That you knew everything about me, every little piece of me, and it’s like you threw me back. That wasn’t fair. I trusted you.”
Louis laughed a hollow, painful laugh.
“God, I’ve fucked absolutely everything up,” Louis said bitterly. “I wasn’t throwing you back, you stupid, beautiful boy. I was setting you free. I couldn’t keep you, as much as I wanted to.”
“Setting me free?” Harry asked incredulously. It was such Louis logic that he couldn’t even stand it. “Why?” Harry asked, a broken look of bewilderment running across his face.
“Because I’m in love with you,” Louis said, so honestly and simply that Harry had no choice but to accept it as truth. “I’m in love with you, and seeing the way management reacted to all of the gay rumors when there wasn’t even anything going on between us made me realize that it could never happen. It could ruin us, both as a band and as a couple, and the only way I could think of to fix that was to let you go. Because if I held on…I couldn’t have stayed away.”
Harry’s heart simultaneously exploded and broke with Louis’s confession.
“You’re such an idiot,” Harry said, voice thick with emotion. “Did you ever think to ask me or the boys how we felt?”
“Management made their stance perfectly clear. I thought that I’d just be causing you more pain by bringing it up,” Louis admitted. “I didn’t realize…”’
“What, how shattered I would be?” Harry asked incredulously. “How could you honestly not know?”
“You’re so full of life, Harry,” Louis admitted. “I knew that our friendship was important to you, of course I did, but I also knew that you burn so brightly. And I thought that you’d just be able to find someone else to hold your flame for a while.”
“There’s only one you,” Harry said honestly. “No one else has ever come close. Will ever. God, Lou, you’re so stupid,” Harry lamented. “Just…I wish you would have talked to me. We could have figured something out, found some way to work around the rules.”
“I just didn’t see how,” Louis admitted.
“There’s always a way, you know that.”
“Maybe,” Louis acknowledged. “Or it could have destroyed everything.”
“Louis…” Harry trailed off. “You fell yesterday. Hard. And you didn’t get right back up. And everyone ran to your rescue, except for me. Every part of me was screaming to go to you, but I froze. I froze, and then I turned and walked away, because that is the person that management expects me to be. I’m already destroyed,” Harry spat bitterly.
“Stop,” Louis said sharply. “That isn’t you. I know you, and that’s not even close. Don’t confuse your image with who you really are.”
“Didn’t really have much of a reason not to, lately,” Harry admitted. “Thought I’d lost everything, didn’t I?”
“I’m right here,” Louis said, grabbing Harry’s hand and lacing their fingers together. And because he was Louis, and he did know Harry, and he knew that it was about so much more than just the two of them, he added, “We’re all right here. All of us. We’re not going anywhere.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully, and the two boys lay in silence for a few more moments. Louis occupied himself by playing with Harry’s hand, and Harry closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the feel of something so normal, so them, that he could almost pretend that they were okay. Harry shifted his gaze so he was looking at Louis out of the sides of his eyes.
“So, you’re in love with me, huh?” Harry asked, a cocky grin spreading over his face before the two boys burst into simultaneous laughter, and Harry’s cheeks hurt from the strain of the first real smile that he’d had in months, and he just kept laughing because fuck it felt good.
“Yeah,” Louis replied after a while. “Pretty hopelessly, actually. I’ve been a prick, and I understand if you kind of hate me now. I just want…I just want us both to be happy again, whatever that entails.”
“And management?” Harry asked breathlessly, letting himself hope for the first time in almost a year.
“Fuck management,” Louis said. “We can’t live our lives for them. I get that now.”
Harry smiled brilliantly, dimples and all before joking, “How hard did you hit your head, anyway?”
Louis giggled and shoved him playfully before his eyes turned serious.
“Hard enough to realize that it’s been far too long since I’ve seen you smile,” Louis said honestly.
“I haven’t exactly been the easiest person to be around lately,” Harry admitted. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my self pity that I’ve…well, I’ve missed a lot, actually. I should have seen that this wasn’t just affecting me.”
Louis looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Harry rolled over onto his side so that he was facing Louis.
“And I’m mad at you,” Harry said honestly. “I’m really fucking angry, and I probably will be for a while. You said you’d understand if I hate you, and I hate…I hate how much I’m in love with you.”
Before Harry could get another word out, Louis’s lips were on his, kissing him hard. Harry kissed him back with everything he had, pouring all of the emotion, frustration, pain, hope, love of the past year into the kiss. It was a little awkward at first, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry registered that he was Louis’s first boy kiss, and that thought drove Harry wild—all his brain could register was mine, as he sucked Louis’s bottom lip between his teeth, nipping him gently.
Louis flipped Harry onto his back and crawled over him, breaking the kiss only to briefly readjust the angle before his tongue was suddenly dancing with Harry’s and Louis had figured out how their bodies fit together and ohgod Harry could almost cry from the sheer joy of that moment. Because how was this his life? How did he go from feeling so low to feeling so high? It was as if a weight, a heaviness that he had been carrying around for far too long, had suddenly been lifted from him and he could breathe again. And Harry wanted to laugh, and laugh, and laugh because he realized that he finally felt free, and isn’t that just the pinnacle of irony? Louis, in his misguided attempt at love, had tried so hard to set Harry free when it turned out that all Harry needed was to finally be caught.
Harry moved his hands underneath Louis’s shirt, relishing the feel of his warm, smooth skin, making Harry’s body want moremoremore.Harry wanted to touch and explore and caress every last part of Louis’s body so badly that he had to restrain himself from physically ripping Louis’s shirt off. Louis let out a soft whimper on top of him, and then the same part of Harry’s brain that reminded him that he was Louis’s first boy kiss also reminded him that he was Louis’s first boy everything, and a small seed of doubt planted itself in the back of his mind. What if Harry can’t turn him on the way that girls do? But then Louis was sucking on Harry’s bottom lip, and his hand fisted Harry’s curls and Harry let out a low moan that had Louis grinding his hips into Harry’s, and…oh.
This was just the beginning.