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I.
The first time Harry got kissed by someone who wasn’t a family member Harry was five and Louis was seven. Harry had decided that he wanted to learn how to drive a bicycle. Unfortunately he didn’t have one. Louis though did. So one day in November when Harry went over to his friends’ house he didn’t immediately ring the bell but climbed on Louis’ bicycle and just tried. For the first few moments he was convinced he could actually do it. He could see himself driving around the yard on that way too big vehicle, he could see Louis coming outside and applauding, he could see his mom and sister looking at him with proud eyes. “Our little cupcake,” they’d say. “Just teaches himself. He’s a natural.”
Then he fell. And since his feet were still on the pedals which were just so in the way, he fell flat on the side with the bike half on top of him. He was fine, actually. It didn’t really hurt. Just that noise was annoying. He was about to ask who was causing that noise, because it was starting to really hurt his ears so much, until he noticed that it was himself, crying. And he wasn’t only crying, no, he was screaming from the top of his lungs and he couldn’t breathe and his knee hurt and his arm and head hurt and he was cold and wet because he had landed in a puddle and could everything just stop please, he just wanted to ride the stupid bike. Suddenly there was hair in his mouth and small but not too small arms wrapped themselves around him and someone was talking to him, telling him it would be okay, and the same mouth that was saying these words kissed the top of his nose and little hands held his face, and through the veil of tears he saw a face, a face he knew, a face that meant home, and he fell forwards into the waiting arms of the other boy because it was Louis, his Louis and he would make everything better.
Everything that happened from that point would always be a blur in Harry’s memories. Louis’ mom later told him that she had carried the boys inside and had taken care of his wounds which weren’t that bad actually. Louis had brought him dry clothes from his own drawers while she had called Anne so she could pick him up. And since he wouldn’t let go of Louis’ hand and Louis wouldn’t let go of his, Anne had taken both of them and Louis had stayed until the next day when he had to go to school. The next day the doctors had diagnosed a mild concussion, which mostly meant staying home in bed for a week and also lots of sleeping. Louis had come over every day and had told him about how stupid school has been and also lots of cuddling.
Two weeks after Harry was completely fine again Anne bought him a red bicycle in the right size. It wasn’t a new one, because they didn’t have the money for it, but Harry loved it because it was red and his and also perfect.
II.
The second time was at Louis’ eighth birthday. Harry had spent nearly three weeks drawing twelve pictures of their every day adventures, like that time they climbed on the tree to get apples only to find out that they were too sour, or the time they came home from school and got chased by a dog. He had put the drawings on a DYI-calendar his mom had bought him. He even had drawn red cycles around his and Louis’ birthdays. When Louis tore off the wrapping paper and saw January, himself and Harry having a snowball fight with a snowman, he started laughing of joy and hugged him and kissed his cheek. Their moms aw-ed simultaneously and Louis proceeded to also kiss his mom and Anne on the cheeks. Then he pulled Harry down to sit on the floor with him and together they looked at every drawing and explaining their adventures in full detailed length to everyone who happened to be near. He took the time to point out his favorite part in every single drawing. Harry beamed.
III.
When Harry was old enough to finally join the drama club, they were doing Peter Pan. Louis obviously played Peter, Harry got a minor role of one of the lost boys. He had two sentences, one of which was “Oh, really?” Of course he could understand that as a beginner he wouldn’t play one of the main roles, but he had hoped of sharing the stage experience with Louis a little longer than ten seconds. Mary, the girl who was playing Wendy, had beautiful long, blonde hair and seemed really nice, but something about her was not right. She annoyed Harry and he did his best of avoiding her whenever he could. She was in Louis’ grade, two years above him, so it wasn’t that hard.
Coming closer to the event, the drama club practiced more and more, first two, later three and four days a week. After school Harry and Louis went through the parts again with Louis performing as Peter and Harry reading the other parts. They especially practiced the parts with Peter and Wendy. Louis told him that he couldn’t really learn them with Mary that well, and Harry happily obliged. On the day of the performance they were both incredibly excited. Louis, having one of the lead roles had to be at the auditorium a little earlier and when Harry and his mom and sister arrived, Louis was close to crying. “What happened, Lou?” asked Harry when he saw Louis’ devastated face.
“We can’t perform! Mary is sick, she had to go to the hospital, Hazza! It was all for nothing!”
“But I thought that is why Laura learned the text, too?” Harry asked confused.
“She’s got the same. So stupid! Stupid girls, why did they have to be sick today?”
Harry hugged him carefully and murmured “I’m sure they didn’t mean to be sick today, Lou. “
“Yeah, whatever, I don’t care. I didn’t want to do this stupid play anyway.”
“But Lou, you love Peter Pan!”
“Fine. Just leave it.”
“Can someone else play her maybe?”
“Who would that be, huh? Nobody knows the text.”
Harry frowned. “I do.”
“What?”
“We practiced so much. I know her text.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
And that is why Harry wore a blue dress and a wig and kissed his best friend, Louis Tomlinson in front of 500 people.
IV.
To Harry’s eleventh birthday Louis was late. Harry tried calling him, but he didn’t answer his phone. His mom suggested starting with the cake but Harry shook his head. They had to wait for Louis. He was invited and he would come, Harry said again and again. Finally Anne gave up and they started unwrapping the presents instead. It was alright, mostly, because his friends were there and his family was there and he got a couple of really amazing presents and he was very excited about that keyboard he got because surely Louis could teach him how to play, and he laughed and turned around to see if Louis had the same thought and. Oh. Right. Louis wasn’t here. Yet. He’d come. Harry knew.
Louis was coming, of course he was. Just, right now he was at detention. Earlier today during lunch break he had gone to Harry’s class so they could eat together and chat like they always did. But on that day a different teacher was supervising the students and, well, Louis didn’t like him very much. He already didn’t like him for multiple reasons, like e never let them go to the bathroom during History and he was rude to the girls during PE and he had told Louis that Louis’ pants wouldn’t fit and even that Louis’ sweaters would insult his eyes once. But now he had another reason to dislike him, because he had come over to tell Louis he couldn’t sit with Harry and should sit with his own class instead. Obviously Louis had told him to fuck off and, well, detention.
So when Louis finally arrived at the party it was already getting dark. He immediately spotted Harry’s wild mane in the crowd and he ran to him and pressed a wet kiss on his cheek. Harry complained with a lazy “heeey,” but no force behind it and Louis ignored it because oh, hey, Harry was hugging him and Harry’s hugs consisted of Harry pulling him as close as physically possible and pressing him even closer, drawing all air out of his lungs and his hair tickling his nose and all that wouldn’t matter because he was finally complete again. He eventually had to draw back though, when Anne told him that they had waited with the cake for him and the others looked quite hungry. So Louis handed him his present, a box of homemade cupcakes and whispered “Happy birthday, love,” and they joined the others in making as much of the food disappear as possible. Under the table their hands were intertwined and Louis didn’t let go until he had to go home.
The teacher never told him to leave Harry again.
V.
Louis’ last year on middle school was the best and worst year altogether. He didn’t want to leave Harry alone, and while he knew that Harry wouldn’t actually be alone, he had other friends as well, he was scared of going to a new school not because of everyone being strangers to him but because of Harry not being there.
“I could just fail all tests and repeat the year,” he murmured one day. They were lying on Harry’s bed, Louis’ head supported by pillows and the wall, Harry’s head on his stomach. He mindlessly stroked through the curls, carefully pulled at them and watched them jumping back.
“Don’t be stupid,” Harry responded quietly. “You are the best in all classes, you have perfect grades. Think about how disappointed everyone would be.”
Louis scoffed. “I don’t care about everyone though.”
“Yes you do,” Harry smiled timidly. Louis felt miserable. Harry raised his head and spun around, now sitting on his knees in front of him. “I know. But you can’t just throw a year of your life away so we can have lunch together.”
Louis let his eyes sink down to follow the patterns of the covers. It was soft green and blue lines, twirling around one another and finally resulting in simple items like a cat or a chair or a flower.
“Hey, look at me!” Harry took his face between his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “We’ll text every day and we still have afternoons and weekends. We’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be perfect.”
And Louis was so overwhelmed by happiness that he threw himself against Harry and they fell back, hugging and laughing and maybe, maybe the light touch of their lips wasn’t an accident but it didn’t really matter.
VI.
“I didn’t get in,” Harry whispered, clutching the letter to his chest until his knuckles turned white. Louis felt like falling down, further and further and when he landed all that was left of him was a mash of “no” and “why”. Except that he didn’t move one bit. He didn’t even blink. “What?” was all he could get out, because his lungs didn’t contain enough air to say anything else or maybe his brain just couldn’t form any more orders for his mouth to follow.
“They don’t, they say I should go to a different school.”
“Where?”
“Not far from here. It’s a… it’s not a musical high school. It’s a regular one, a bit out of town. One hour with the train and I’m here.”
“You- you’re moving?”
Harry’s hands fell down and the letter he had shown to Louis fell on the floor. “Yes.”
Louis didn’t even bother hiding the tears that ran over his face. “When?”
“We’ll text and skype every day. Louis, it’s okay, we’ll make sure to go to the same college and-“
“How long do we have?”
Harry closed his eyes. “We’re leaving in September.”
“Two months.”
“Yes.”
It couldn’t be true. It was a joke, Louis thought, because Harry wouldn’t leave him! But he wouldn’t joke about something like that either and it was true and he was leaving. In two months.
Louis stormed forward, grabbed Harry’s face and pressed their lips together, face himself four eternal seconds before letting go of his friend, stumbling backwards and running out of the house. He ran all the way home and up the stairs, curling into a ball on his bed, sobbing and hiding his face in the pillows. He hadn’t even noticed that Harry had followed him until he felt the familiar body pressing itself against his back, hugging him from behind and gently stroking his hair. He got hit by another wave of sobs, but at least Harry was here now and he didn’t leave and he wouldn’t leave until September and in that moment Louis decided to stop being sad, because these two months that were left would be the best two months Harry had ever had.
VII.
When Harry was sixteen he was working at a bakery. He had a group of close friends and he took care of his mom when she was too tired to take care of because she was working double shifts.
When Harry was sixteen he missed Louis most, because Louis had a girlfriend and Harry didn’t want to call him all the time, fearing he might intrude.
When Harry was sixteen he decided to join The X-Factor.
His mom drove him all the way to the building where he would be singing. He was nervous. Very.
He hadn’t told Louis about the whole X-Factor thing, because he didn’t want to disappoint him if he wouldn’t get through and he wanted to surprise him if he did. But also because he didn’t want Louis to think he was ignoring their college plans and he wouldn’t get through anyway. So he didn’t tell him. The problem now was that he did get through. The coaches had actually let him pass. Next station Boot Camp. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Louis and when he finally tried to call him Louis didn’t pick up. Of course they kept texting, but Harry didn’t try to call him a second time, so he couldn’t blame anyone but himself when he entered the train with a suitcase and a backpack, not having seen Louis another time. He had to sing again and dance and the masses of people where quite overwhelming, but he still felt comfortable enough to stay there. He met another boy, Niall, and they got along really well. But even Niall couldn’t help when that guy had told him to leave the show because he was talentless on the second day. He ignored Niall’s words that were meant to be soothing and ran to the bathroom. He didn’t cry. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure because the liquid running down his cheeks might as well be from the water he splashed against his face. Suddenly the door of the stall behind him opened and a boy came through, staring at him in disbelief and then he recognized the boy. His mouth dropped open and words failed him.
“H-hi!” Louis stuttered. Harry wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not. But Louis’ eyes went from Harry to the sink where water was running over the rim, running down and slowly forming a puddle on the floor. Harry hastily stopped the flow and opened the drain. “Oops.”
And the next thing he felt was Louis pressed against him and around him and his lips on his own.
VIII.
“I’m out,” Louis whispered and Harry swallowed his tears. “Me too.”
The last weeks at the X-Factor had been incredible. Obviously it had been nice to sing and dance and all that. But he had gotten Louis back. His Louis. Now he’d have to go back home to school and the bakery and Louis would go back to his music school and his girlfriend and they wouldn’t be together anymore. The tears didn’t stay in his eyes. Even Louis couldn’t make them stop. He had the same tears and the same desperate expression on his face.
Then they got called back. Niall, too, and also two of the other boys they had met by now, Liam and Zayn. They told them where to stand and Harry let Louis’ hand go only after his friend’s promise to give it back as soon as possible. When the coaches told them that they all got through he couldn’t think straight anymore. His feet automatically carried him to Louis and he felt like he was flying, not only because Louis was holding him up and spinning him but mostly because Louislouislouislouis.
Then the voices around him made it clear that they were to stand in a row again, for whatever show stuff they needed again.
Later that day Harry and Louis were celebrating in one of the unused staircases. They didn’t share a room and everyone used elevators to get to different stories, so the stairs were a pretty good place for privacy. They sat down on one of the top steps and Harry leaned against Louis, using one of Louis’ arms as a blanket.
“You know I love you, right?” Louis murmured and pressed light kisses against his hair. Harry smiled to himself. “’Cause I do.” He took Louis’ free hand that wasn’t stroking his back and pressed it against his heart.
“You know I love you, too, right?” Louis laughed quietly. “’Cause I do.”