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Summary
"So how old does that make you?"
It takes Harry a second. "Twenty."
Louis arches an eyebrow. No matter how morally dubious that makes him, this boy is not twenty years old. "Bullshit."
Harry pinches his bottom lip between two long fingers. "Eighteen."
"What is this, a missile launch?"
Harry giggles. "Seventeen."
Or, Harry is 17 at a college party, and Louis is not Brian Kinney.
