Work Text:
Louis bursts into the dressing room with Harry’s polaroid camera in hand, an urgency to his actions that gradually settles when Harry looks up from his phone. Louis smiles, a little amused by the way Harry’s draped across the leather sofa. “Come on, love.” Louis strides towards him.
Harry doesn’t make a move to get up from the sofa. He’s half dressed, in a black Gucci blouse that’s open and untucked, and black, flared trousers with red embroidered dragons running down the pant legs. At least his hair and makeup are done.
“What are you doing?”
Harry shrugs. “Voting for you for an EMA.”
Louis smiles automatically and reaches for Harry’s hand to pull him up. “Thanks, but fix yourself would you? You have a show to put on in twenty minutes.”
With a sigh Harry tosses his phone onto the sofa and tugs his trousers up using the belt loops. “What are you doing?” He gestures at the camera in Louis’ hands.
“You haven’t taken a picture yet for this show, so I’m doing the honours.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Louis comes closer to place a hand on Harry’s hip, right underneath the shirt where he can feel the soft skin of Harry’s hip bone. There’s a sly smile on his lips and Harry may know what it means. His hands curl around Louis’ waist.
Harry breathes heavy for a second before Louis ducks to press a chaste kiss to his exposed chest, right between his pecs. Harry giggles and shifts as a ticklish sensation runs through him.
Louis pats his hip. “No time to waste, Harold.” He steps away and waits for Harry to button up his shirt and tuck it in.
They lace their fingers together as Louis drags him out of the dressing room and into another where Harry’s band is getting ready amidst the chatter.
They gather for a quick snap, and Louis joins them for one as well, handing the camera to Harry’s stylist.
Louis takes a moment to stare at the photo, where he stands between Harry and Sarah, arms around them. They’re smiling wide and Louis had tried not to pull a silly face because Harry had pinched his waist and warned him under his breath. Harry pops up with a sharpie to scribble the date and place behind the photos.
When they walk back to the dressing room, it becomes a bit of a flurry. Lou checks on Harry’s makeup and the tech team circles him to clip on the receiver pack. The band spills into the room soon after and Louis has to step away to avoid being accidentally knocked into.
But he watches as the band and Harry huddle close to whisper a few words to each other. They then make their way to the wings from where Louis can hear Muna finishing their last song.
When Harry wraps around him from behind, Louis turns in his arms to cup his cheeks. “Good luck, babe.” He presses their lips together for a few seconds. Harry beams back and goes in for another peck.
“Thanks. I’m gonna break a leg.”
Louis chuckles, fingers clasping around Harry’s left wrist where a bandage sits tight over the scars of his surgery. “Responsible fun, yeah?”
Harry huffs an amused breath. “Of course.” And with a wink he’s swept away with the band.
Louis watches as the band gets ready behind the curtain that hides them from the audience. Harry straps on his guitar and fits his in ears. His shoulders raise as he takes a deep breath and stares at his silhouette on the curtain. Louis throws up two thumbs when Harry glances over at him.
The music starts, a strum, then several. The beat picks up. And the curtain falls. The crowd's screams multiply by a thousandfold when it does. The sound is so familiar, it brings back years of memories. Louis smiles at that, a chill running up his arms.
The set begins with Ever Since New York , followed by Two Ghosts . Louis sways on the spot, eyes fluttering close as he listens to the band back up Harry’s vocals, and the fans singing along except for the occasional scream. It’s lulling but there’s also an underlying buzz in his veins.
When the set proceeds onto Carolina , Louis goes in search of something to eat and to fetch a chair.
Water bottle and a sandwich in hand, Louis settles in the wings in the most discreet location he could find, so he can’t be seen from any angle via the audience. For a moment, he’s paranoid enough to contemplate waiting in the dressing room.
It’s clear that no one can see him though. So he watches comfortably, and sings along to every song. Harry has sung his own lyrics countless times at home, Louis knows all of it.
Louis spends some of the time playing games on his phone and sending texts back and forth with Niall. The majority of the time, he’s entertained by Harry prancing around on stage and bickering with the fans. He’s endearing and sweet and puts on such a show, Louis can’t deny the flare of his performances. And he may be biased but he’s pretty sure every single person in the audience thinks so too.
Harry grows wilder as the night progresses. He dances across the stage and throws water at the audience, he’s flushed and sweaty and his shirt has come untucked. His jacket lays on the drum platform. He had to ditch it halfway through when it seemed to make him stuffy.
Louis is no stranger to any of it. In fact he can feel the rush that Harry’s having just from the sidelines, and he loves nothing more than watching his better half own the stage and have the time of his life.
Louis can’t help moving along to the beat of Kiwi , dancing in his seat. His lips quirk, watching Harry do a little strut that has the crowd in hysterics.
“It’s New York, baby, always jacked up!” Harry does a pose as he sings, a hand on his hip cocked out, and legs crossed. The many times Harry had pulled those dance moves in the kitchen and gotten Louis to follow along is ridiculous.
Louis hums the words beneath his breath, head bobbing and leg tapping to the rhythm of the song. Harry does his classic whale spray with the water and Louis chuckles. He doesn’t forget to catch some of these on tape for the very purpose of teasing Harry with them when they get home.
The crowd finds Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart emotional and Louis agrees. But he’s conditioned to it, so it only reminds him of the day Harry met him for lunch with a demo of the song. He closes his eyes and listens to the way Harry pours his heart into the song, the way his voice quivers at certain points. It makes Louis’ chest twinge.
It happens further in the night, towards the end of the set. Louis hadn’t seen it coming. He’s not sure he would’ve been prepared either way.
“I uh--this is our last song,” Harry begins, fiddling with his in ear. “and um--I’d like to get very serious for one second before we leave.” Louis stands up to lean against a beam, crossing his arms over his chest. “And uh--just tell you that I’m well aware that I don’t get to do this if it's not for you coming. Thank you for the support since the album came out, for supporting me through the years. Thank you so much. Since the single came out, since the album came out, and being here. You being here tonight means more to me than you’ll ever know so thank you so so much.”
Louis smiles. A part of him wishes he could be there, thanking the crowd, thanking the people who make all of this possible. It’s evident how much Harry realises that, how thankful he is. He never stops thanking.
Harry fidgets with the mic, then his in ears again as he continues with his speech. “I think that every single one of you are wonderful and I could not ask for a better group of friends so thank you so much.” The fans grow uproarious, screams and shouts that fill the theater. Harry grins and waves his hand towards the crowd. “If you have a flash on your device, please do put it up for this one, and if you know the words, please do sing along. This is Sign Of The Times.” Louis’ watching Harry closely enough to see his eyes widen, and his mouth hang open a little. “These are beautiful.” He says it so seamlessly, a hint of amazement laced for Louis to pick up. He cranes his neck to see what it’s about.
He’s unprepared for the sight before him. The sea of rainbow flags that rise in the air like victory, a soundless cry of triumph just as the song begins. Louis’ breath hitches.
“Wow.” Harry’s awestruck exclamation is caught by the mic and the fans shout in reply. He locks gazes with Louis for a brief moment before he starts singing.
But Louis doesn’t move. He can’t . He’s so captivated by the waving flags. He’s not sure he will ever stop being blown away by the things their fans do. It’s obvious this is a fan movement, standing in solidarity to a community that struggles to be heard every fucking day.
A quarter of the way into the song, Louis doesn’t realise he’s crying till he feels the wetness that runs down his cheeks. The tears tickle the end of his nose and Louis has to furiously rub at his eyes.
It’s a vivid sight, a tight feeling in his chest, an evident mark. He feels proud, for Harry, for the fans, for the strength they display together. It’s moving how everyone has come together to stand as one, to create a safety net at every one of Harry’s concerts. Louis’ seen it all. And Harry has constantly expressed his delight at having being able to do that, to provide that space for the fans who need it, for them to be who they want for just one night.
And Louis believes he can too. He’s here, reveling in the moment they all share as one. There’s a swoopy feeling in his stomach and he lets out a watery chuckle. He’s so glad he gets to witness this moment. It reminds him of how much love can be spread.
He feels welcomed even if he’s not there in the crowd, even if none of them knows he’s here. Their display is one of warmth and acceptance towards everyone, to the fans at home, to the people in the theater, to anyone who reads about the event in the papers and Louis is among them. The love tonight makes up for the years of unbridled homophobia he has had to deal with.
He sniffs, throwing his head back to get rid of the tears. He’s happy, so immensely happy. It’s a crazy moment when he darts into view to snap a photo, he can’t imagine not capturing this moment. The first people he sends it to are Niall and Liam.
Louis sings loudly with the crowd, a renewed sense of strength that overpowers him. He feels invincible with it. His vocals strain as he sings so fucking madly, so thrilled and full of hope. A part of him wishes he could throw himself into the crowd and thank them profusely.
As the song slowly walks to its end, Harry takes a moment to breathe in what’s before him. “Thank you, Philadelphia.” He blows kisses and bows. He walks from one end of the stage to the other, thanking the fans over and over in bows and kisses. His band makes their way backstage, and Harry continues to wave and thank everyone. He places his hand over his heart and follows Clare into the wings.
Louis’ waiting for him and Harry immediately falls into his open arms without preamble. “Look what you’ve done.” Louis says in a wet, croaky voice.
Harry lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder to look him in the eyes. He smells strongly of sweat and his skin is sticky but Louis clings tighter. “It was so beautiful, Lou.” His voice is thick, filled with emotion.
Louis nods, a small smile on his lips. “I saw. You made this possible.”
“I’m so happy.” Harry laughs, emotion on the brink of spilling. “They never cease to amaze me. I didn’t think I’d ever see something like this.”
Louis pulls away and tucks Harry’s floppy fringe so it doesn’t stick to his forehead. “Now you have. You did such a good job out there, babe. I’m so proud of you.” Harry catches Louis’ hand in his and brings it to his lips. He presses a kiss across the knuckles and smiles. Louis clears his throat. “Don’t make me cry again, Haz.”
“Alright.” Harry ducks to kiss him on the lips, and Louis smiles into the kiss.
“Did you take a photo?” Harry asks as they slip into the dressing room, arms around each other’s waists.
Louis pulls up the picture on his phone in reply. Harry takes a good look at it, eyes crinkling the longer he stares at it. “This is going in your tour journal don’t you think?”
“I definitely agree.” Harry hums.