Work Text:
1.
Niall tried with food, of course he did.
“Look, Louis. Do you want a hamburger-” he sneered the word- “or a hot dog?” he waggled his eyebrows and offered the hot dog up like a trophy.
Louis barely glanced up from his phone and precious, precious Twitter feed.
“I’ll take the burger, thanks.”
“No!” Niall slammed his hand down on the table rather dramatically, causing Louis to jump and stare at him.
“No Louis,” the Irishman was passionate, blue eyes wide with intent, “You like hot dogs.”
Louis nodded hesitantly. “Um. Yeah. But I want a burger.”
“No. You want hot dogs, Louis.”
Niall pushed the hot dog to the older boy insistently, and Louis took it with a shrug. Niall thought he made his point, until Louis held out his phone with a girlish giggle and asked him what he thought of a pair of shoes.
They were high heels.
He would have to try harder.
-
His next opportunity came a few days later on the set of an interview, in the form of a platter of fruit in the dressing room.
Perfect.
“Louis! Lou! Come quick!” he called urgently, grabbing what he needed. He hurriedly arranged
the plates appropriately- or, rather, inappropriately, as the case may be.
“What, Niall?” the boy snapped, rushing over, “This better be important, they were just about to do my nails.”
Just in time, then.
“Pick.” Niall said simply, pointing to the two fruits he laid out.
On one plate laid a provocatively peeled banana- oh my god, what is that even?- and on another, a papaya, cut in half and therefore, equally provocative.
Louis huffed. “I so don’t have time for this right now, Niall, you know-”
“Pick, Louis!” Niall cut him off, pointing frantically at the plates. “Pick!”
“Um… I guess… the banana?”
Niall beamed. “Good. Good job, Louis. Yes, the banana.”
He was proud. He had succeeded.
Until Louis opened his mouth.
“But I’ve never had papaya before-” in the background, Liam quipped “we know”- “and you know I like to try new things. Like when Nick convinced me to put on those lacy panties, remember?”
And, really, how could they forget?
“He’s so silly! Anyways, I guess I’ll take the papaya. Thanks, Niall!”
Grinning, Louis reached out and grabbed the obviously wrong fruit.
Niall wouldn’t admit defeat. Not yet.
-
They were at a buffet. Niall knew he would never get such an opportunity again.
He didn’t even wait with the others before heading straight to the sushi bar and taking several rolls, then moving on to the cold cuts and loading his plate with steak.
“Okay.” he said, taking the seat opposite Louis. “Okay. Louis, focus here.”
He presented his plate to the Doncaster lad. Beside him, Zayn choked on his water.
“Louis- sushi, or steak?”
Louis bit his lip in concentration, staring at the plate like it was a particularly difficult puzzle. “Um.”
“C’mon Louis. You can do it.” Niall encouraged. “I believe in you.”
Louis’ eyes darted from the plate to him, then to the others in a plea for help. Beside him, Harry
was not-so-quietly whispering “the steak, Lou, come on”, but stopped when Niall shot him a glare.
This was something Louis needed to do on his own.
“Um, uh. The… sushi?” the other lad answered hesitantly only to be met with a chorus of groans from their fellow band mates.
“No!” Niall yelled, drawing the attention of several other patrons, “No!”
Louis’ blue eyes went wide in fear.
“I like sushi, Louis! You like steak!” Niall explained passionately.
“But- but I like sushi too…” Louis whispered, bottom lip trembling.
Oh, for the love of-
“No, Louis.” Niall said gently, reaching across the table and taking the boys small hands in his own, “I like sushi, but you- you just like steak. And it’s okay. Nobody cares.”
Louis whimpered in confusion. Niall let it go.
He thought, for sure, he had made headway, but halfway through dinner Louis snuck a sushi roll and tried to pick up a girl by complementing the tasteful use of both tangerine and turquoise in her outfit (Louis’ words, not his. Obviously.).
It was then that Niall realized he hadn’t made any progress at all.
-
It’s a test. He knows that.
“Ok. Ok, I can do this.” he murmurs to himself, staring at the plate before him. The choices Niall gave him were simple:
Sausage or eggs.
But why was it so hard?
To be honest, Louis had no idea what the Irishman wanted, or why he had been making him pick from different kinds of foods all week. All he knew, was that Niall’s general passion for all things edible seemed to extend to the things Louis ate as well, and while that was flattering, it was also, you know. Disconcerting.
“Are you going to yell at me again if I get it wrong?” he asked warily. Niall growled in response, blue eyes narrowing dangerously. Louis took that as a yes.
He didn’t want to be here. Tyra was going to be on soon, and today they were having a special tutorial on how to look slimmer in photographs that he did not want to miss.
Frustrated, Louis closed his eyes and thrust out a finger. Whatever one he pointed to, that was just going to have to be good enough for Niall, and if he got yelled at so be it but at least he wouldn’t miss his favorite American daytime talk show host.
“Good. Yes. Finally.”
Louis peaked open an eye to find a relieved Niall grinning at him and holding out the plate of sausage.
He returned the smile and took the plate happily.
“Hey, Niall, Tyra’s on in like, one minute. You wanna watch it with me? She’s going to show us how to look slimmer in photographs.” he offered, taking a bite of the delicious sausage link.
Niall’s mouth dropped open, stunned. Louis froze, link halfway to his mouth. What had he said, now?
“That’s it.” the blonde said in defeat, shaking his head in frustration. “That’s it! I give up.”
Niall walked off, muttering under his breath. Louis watched him go, frowning.
Weird.
2.
Zayn tried with art.
“Louis, tell me what you see.” he said, cornering the older boy on the bus. He was holding an abstract piece that vaguely resembled the female form.
“I don’t know, Zayn, shapes?” Louis barely spared the painting a glance.
“No, Lou. Look at it.”
Louis huffed. “C’mon mate, can’t we do this some other time? You’re blocking the TV.”
Zayn half turned to see what his friend was watching.
It was Fashion Police.
“No, Louis, we have to do this now.”
“Fine.” Louis rolled his eyes, but obliged. “Ok, um.”
Zayn waited patiently while the Doncaster lad stared intently at the painting. It had taken him, personally, all of two seconds to see the abstract naked woman. It had taken Niall even less time.
But this was good- the longer it took Louis to figure it out, the more it proved his point.
“I guess it’s a- is it a camel?” Louis hazarded.
Zayn smiled indulgently. “No, mate.”
“Are you sure? See, look- those there, those are the humps-” he pointed at to round circles that were clearly breasts- “and that, that’s a toe.” And, well.
“Ok, Lou. Now tell me what you see in this one.” Zayn held up the other painting; an equally
abstract painting, done by the same artist, of a naked man.
Louis took one look and blushed.
“Oh my god Zayn, why are you showing me that?” he squealed. Zayn grinned.
“What do you see?” he repeated.
“It’s, uh. You know. A naked, um. Guy.” Louis said while obviously trying very hard to not stare at it.
“Good!” Zayn chirped. “So, if this one is a naked man, then this one is a…”
He held the paintings side by side, mentally coaxing Louis to make the connection.
Louis sighed in frustration. “I don’t know Zayn, all I see is a camel. Why are you- oh my god she did not pair cheetah print with lavender sequins, what was she thinking?”
Behind him, Katy Perry was on screen in an, admittedly, truly ghastly outfit, and Zayn knew he had lost Louis for the next thirty minutes or so.
That’s ok. If Zayn is anything, it’s patient.
-
“Okay, Louis. Take a look at this and tell me how it makes you feel.” Zayn instructed several days later.
It had taken him literally hours of internet browsing to find the perfect pieces, but it had been worth it.
The one he was holding now was done in the late nineteen fifties and depicted a surrealist interpretation of heterosexual sex. Of course, you kind of had to tilt your head, squint a bit, and take a step back to see it- but that’s definitely what it was.
Louis frowned from his perch in the dressing room. “I’m no good at art, Zayn, why are you asking me?” he whined.
Zayn just smiled in return and prompted him again.
Louis rolled his eyes but complied, taking a good, long look at the painting. To Zayn’s surprise, the older lad seemed to be taking it seriously, turning his head from side to side in evaluation.
Finally, Louis squirmed. “I don’t know- uncomfortable?”
Zayn beamed. “Good. That’ s really good, Lou.”
“It is?” Louis asked. Zayn nodded assuredly.
“Yes. Ok, so this painting makes you feel uncomfortable.” he clarified, “What about
this one?”
The second painting had been even harder to find than the first. It was from a completely different era, and not even remotely surrealist, but equally obscure. It was, of course, a painting of two men having sex- only, you know, you had to almost know beforehand to be able to see it.
Again, Louis let his eyes scan intently over the entire painting, staring for several moments before grinning.
“I guess, good? Like, happy, maybe?”
“Good, that’s very very good, Lou.” Zayn praised. Louis gave him a confused smile in return.
“Now,” he began, “the first painting I showed you is really two people, a man and a woman, having-”
“Louis! I picked up that stuff you wanted. Here, catch!” Zayn was rudely interrupted by Harry entering the room, tossing a bag to Louis.
“Yay! Thanks, Haz!” Louis cheered, reaching in and pulling a tube of lip gloss.
Strawberry lip gloss.
“What?” Louis asked innocently, staring at Zayn’s incredulous expression with wide eyes. “It makes my lips soft and it tastes good.”
Zayn sighed, packing up his paintings.
Another day, perhaps.
-
Sculptures. Since the subtleties of abstract and surrealist art were so clearly lost on Louis, Zayn will try sculptures.
He started simply, easily. Obviously.
“Alright, Lou. Pick one.” He held two photos in his hands; one of the Statue of David, the other, a naked statue of Aphrodite.
“Have you been talking to Niall?” Louis asked suspiciously.
“What? No. C’mon, Lou- focus.”
Louis rolled his eyes and looked at the photos.
“Statue of David, of course.” he answered simply, which threw Zayn off. Had Louis accepted his homosexuality? Had all his work been for nothing?
“Why?” he asked, just for clarification.
“Because it’s the Statue of David. Duh. I don’t have to be an art connoisseur like you to recognize it.” Louis rolled his eyes again in an offended manner, like Zayn had insulted his intelligence.
And okay, maybe that one was too easy, too in-your-face. He would just have to adjust.
-
His next try was with a little more finesse, and all but fell into his lap when they were out and about on a rare day off.
“Hey Louis. What do you see?” he asked, pointing to an obscure piece of public art. It was, really, just a bunch of long, thin, twisting pieces of metal that were painted red, but from an angle it kind of (sort of) looked like two people doing it. Doggie style, at that.
They weren’t gender specific, so Zayn figured it would be perfect for his exercise.
Louis groaned but obliged him, turning to stare hard at the sculpture.
“I guess…” he began, before tilting his head. Suddenly, he blushed bright red and Zayn cheered in success.
“Oh my god, why would they put that out here? In public?”
“What is it, Lou?” Zayn pressed.
“It’s two men, you know. Having sex.” Louis whispered, looking frantically between him and the sculpture, scandalized.
“Why makes you think it’s not a man and a woman?” Zayn thinks it’s a rather profound, thought provoking question- one that might make Louis go huh and open the door to exploring his sexuality.
In retrospect, that was clearly asking too much.
Instead of careful consideration, followed by a life altering realization, Louis gives a huff and a sassy eye roll.
“Please.” he says, looking at Zayn as if he’s the artistically incompetent one, “As if anyone would want to see that.”
Louis walks off, leaving him standing with his mouth hanging open, because seriously?
His next several attempts were made out of sheer desperation.
“Pick.” he would say, pointing at two things that could vaguely be interpreted as male and female genitalia.
Louis would pause before, inevitably, choosing the more phallic looking one and then go back to what he was doing.
It was hopeless, and Zayn was running out of ideas.
Finally, one day, after forcing Louis to choose between a picture of the Washington Monument and McDonald’s golden arches, Zayn had had enough.
“Really?!” He yelled, startling both the older boy and Liam, who had been laughing silently at the other end of the couch.
Louis opened his mouth to respond, but Zayn wasn’t quite finished.
“I mean, seriously Lou?! Are you- are you completely blind?! Or just plain stupid?”
A look of hurt flashed across Louis’ face and his blue eyes grew watery. Liam shot him a disapproving, reproachful look.
“I just don’t know what you want me to say!” Louis worried his bottom lip before pushing it
outwards, pouting- and that was it.
“Stop- stop that, Louis, no self respecting, grown adult man pouts like that! Don’t you see? Don’t you get it?” Zayn presses. His words just prompt more tears to gather, and fuck. He wishes Louis didn’t look so upset.
“I don’t- you’re not making sense, Zee.” Louis whispers miserably.
Deciding to cut his loses, Zayn just shakes his head and storms off to his bunk at the back of the
bus.
In the background, he hears “Can you snuggle with me, Li? For some reason I always feel better with your arms around me.”
And Zayn, officially, gave up.
3.
Harry tried the sympathetic, brothers-in-arms approach.
“You know I’m gay, right Lou?” he asks casually while they’re backstage, hours before they’re set to perform.
Louis beams at him. “Yup!” He chirps.
“Do you know why?” Harry asks, causing Louis to pause and give him a confused look in return.
“Um, because you don’t like girls?”
Harry smiles. “That’s true. But I’m gay because I like guys, not because I don’t like girls.”
He can immediately tell that his attempt at clarification failed, if Louis’ puzzled expression was anything to go by.
No matter.
“Look, Louis.” He begins seriously, “I like guys. I like feeling their scruff on my face when we kiss. I like their hard chests and hairy legs. I like their deep voices and big hands- and I like watching the way their jeans stretch over their asses when they bend over, kind of like you’re doing now to Liam.”
“Am not!”
Harry rolls his eyes, but doesn’t press.
“But most of all, Louis, I like their cocks.”
Louis chokes.
“I like to touch them. I like to stroke them. I especially like to taste them.”
Louis whimpers.
“Because I am gay.”
Louis whines.
“Gay, Louis.”
Louis turns bright red and all but runs away.
He doesn’t look him in the eye for the rest of the night, but Harry thinks he’s made some headway.
-
They’re watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire together, all five of them, when Harry decides to try again.
It’s at the part where Moaning Myrtle tells Harry Potter that Cedric Diggory was in the bath until
all the bubbles were nearly gone when Harry leans over to whisper in Louis’ ear.
“I got my first boner thinking of that.” he admits.
Louis jumps and squeals, flinging the popcorn en route to his mouth into the air. The others jump and stare at him incredulously, but he just blushes. He shoots Harry a half hearted glare before turning back to the movie.
Harry waits until his attention is fully back on the screen before leaning in again.
“It made me so hard, thinking of that charming Hufflepuff all alone in the steamy water.”
Louis doesn’t jump this time, thankfully, but does shoot him a look that could easily be either
why are you telling me this? or please tell me more.
“I imagined myself licking a drop of water from his neck to his chest, down his stomach, all the way to his-”
“Popcorn!” Louis yells urgently, once again startling the boys. “I think we need more popcorn, yes?”
“Um, mate, there’s a full bowl right there.” Niall says slowly, like he’s talking to a child. Sure enough, there’s a bowl full of popcorn next to Zayn.
“Well, Zayn is hogging it.” Louis defends, blush still staining his cheeks. Zayn rolls his eyes and passes the bowl down, muttering under his breath about drama queens.
Harry grins to himself and continues to nudge Louis every time Cedric appears on screen for the
rest of the movie.
Unfortunately, a little while later Louis begins a rant on Emma Watson and all the things he’d like to do to her if he got her alone (which, apparently, includes meeting with her personal stylist and going to the theatre together).
Harry counts it as a loss.
-
Operation: Sympathetic Fellow Homosexual has quickly devolved into Operation: Share My Personal Sexual Exploits.
From there, it was only a short leap to Operation: Shove My Sexual Exploits in Louis’ Face.
In other news, Harry learns he’s a bit of an exhibitionist.
Regardless, Harry has taken to grabbing the nearest gay man and shoving his tongue down their throat (or his hand down their pants) whenever Louis is around and the situation allows.
It is, admittedly, a lot of fun and has had varying degrees of success.
Sometimes- okay, most times- Louis will do his mortification-induced tomato impression before stuttering out an apology and retreating whatever direction from which he came.
Sometimes, though- sometimes Louis will linger in the doorway for a second, his blue eyes bright as he watches Harry neck some poor, unsuspecting lad. Of course, he’s gone the next instant, before Harry can even think of confronting him, but he knows.
And Louis knows he knows.
And Harry knows Louis knows that he knows.
So, yeah. Harry decides it’s working, because even if Louis doesn’t admit anything to him, hopefully he’s starting to admit it to himself.
Because when he watches Harry with other men, his eyes aren’t bright with curiosity- they’re bright with arousal.
So Harry will keep doing what he’s doing for now- all for Louis’ benefit, of course.
-
“Harry…” Louis asks him tentatively one day while they’re on the bus.
Harry glances up from his game and pauses it once he sees the serious look on his friends face.
Louis isn’t quite making eye contact and is biting his lip while his hands twist and turn in his lap.
“Yes?” he prods gently.
“H-How…” Louis stutters before taking a deep breath and starting over again, “How did you know you were gay?”
Harry’s heart stops. He hears a sharp intake of breathe from the other couch, and knows Liam and
Niall are already texting Zayn to get in here NOW it’s finally happening.
Harry wills himself not to break out in an excited grin.
“Well, Lou, I suppose I always kind of knew. As a small lad I always fancied boys more than girls, and when I got older I just sort of realized what that all meant. But I suppose I knew for sure when Michael Donnelly asked to kiss me behind the bleachers when I was 14, and I said yes.” He watches Louis’ considering expression carefully.
Louis frowns a bit. “So you never… you never doubted yourself?”
Harry grants him with a kind, understanding smile, and answers in what he hopes is a soothing voice.
“No, I didn’t- but not everyone is like that. It’s perfectly normal to be confused, Louis. Some people go their whole life believing they’re straight, simply because they never considered any alternative. It can be very confusing.”
“But you never were confused? Or unsure?” Louis presses. “Not even once?”
Harry gets a small inkling that he may have missed something.
“Um, no. Why do you ask, Lou?”
Louis grants him with an understanding smile, and Harry knows he misinterpreted the situation.
“It’s just, lately, you seem to be a bit more… you know, promiscuous. With the lads. And I thought, maybe you were having- I don’t know, like an identity crisis? Or a sexuality crisis?”
Harry’s mouth drops open in shock.
What?!
“You- you think I’m confused about my sexuality?” he shrieks, completely flabbergasted. On the other couch Niall and Liam try to smother their laughter.
Louis holds his hands up in the universal sign for calm down.
“It’s okay to be straight, Harry- or bisexual, if that’s what you think you are.” Louis says
sympathetically. “Just look at me. I’m perfectly happy as a heterosexual man, and there’s no reason you can’t be too.”
Harry makes a strangled noise, because this whole thing is wrong, wrong, wrong, and he’ll be damned if he sits here and listens to Louis lecture him on accepting your sexuality.
“Oh, fuck this.” he snarls and stands to leave, bumping into a sleep ruffled Zayn on the way out.
Behind him, he hears Niall say to him “False alarm, mate, you can go back to sleep.” and Louis begin a tirade on supporting your friends in their times of need.
Needless to say, Harry completely and utterly gives up.
4.
Liam tries the sensible, reasonable approach.
No tricks, no gimmicks, just good ole logic and sensibility.
“I think it’s time you faced the facts, Louis.” He says, purposefully sitting across from where the
other boy was eating. He opens his mouth to continue, but is abruptly cut off by a suddenly tearful Louis.
“I know!” He quivers, throwing his sandwich down with a dramatic flair and hanging his head miserably. “You don’t even have to say it!”
“Um, right. You- you do?” Liam asks cautiously. A part of him hopes that Louis is on the same page as him, but there have been so many near misses recently that he knows it’s too much to ask for.
“Yes, Liam, god!” Louis wails, and follows it up a sob. Tears are racing down his face in earnest now, and all Liam can do is shift uncomfortably.
“What- uh, what exactly do you think I’m talking about again?” He asks tentatively, only to flinch under Louis’ heartfelt glare.
“You’re really going to make me say it?” His voice is shrill and kind of hurts Liam’s ears.
He wisely chooses not to comment on it. Instead he swallows, shifts again, and averts his eyes.
“Well, I’m just not sure we’re talking about the same thing.” He attempts to explain, only to be met
with an eye roll.
“Puh-lease, like it could be anything else. It’s obvious now, isn’t it?”
Liam knows it’s a rhetorical question, can hear the sarcasm in Louis’ voice, but on the off chance they are both talking about his flaming homosexuality- well, needless to say, Liam nods.
Louis wails- he’s probably saying something, Liam just can’t make it out through to sobbing- and his eyes get puffy and red and snot is running down his face and Liam just sits there like. What?
A moment later Niall and Harry rush in, clearly alarmed by the sound of hysteria, though relaxing slightly in a practiced way that says oh, it’s only Louis.
“What did you do to him, Liam?” Niall asks, trying to hide his amusement as he begins rubbing circles on the crying boys back. Harry lingers in the background, as he’s still holding a bit of a grudge with Louis ever since he tried to convince the younger boy he just might be straight.
Which, yeah. Liam gets that, so he doesn’t blame the boy, even though it happened weeks ago.
In response to Niall’s question, he just shrugs helplessly and opens his mouth to say I don’t even know mate, when Louis abruptly stops his tears to point at him accusingly.
“Liam called me fat!”
Liam’s mouth drops open because he’s one hundred thousand percent sure he did not.
“What?” he manages to squeak out, but the sound is lost in a new, fresh batch of sobs coming from the Doncaster lad.
“There, there.” Niall soothes halfheartedly, “I’m sure Liam didn’t mean it.”
“Liam didn’t even say it!” he interjects, but it seems to go completely unheard.
“He did mean it, Ni!” Louis protests, “You know how he gets!”
“Hey!” Liam objects, because what the hell does that mean? Again, he is ignored as Niall just nods understandingly.
“C’mon, Lou, I’ll do your eyebrows for you. That always makes you feel better.” Harry offers reluctantly, obviously unwilling to spend time with Louis but equally unwilling to leave his friend a tearful, blubbery mess. (Harry is the best kind of person, really.)
Louis turns to him with hopeful, watery, wide blue eyes, and Liam momentarily pities the tall lad because he can practically see the boys persistent grudge fade right before his eyes. Apparently, all it takes to earn the taller boys forgiveness is a truly pathetic Louis.
Harry nods and takes the blue eyed mess of a boy by the hand, leading them both out.
Niall turns to him with a shit eating grin.
“What’d you do that for?” he asks, holding back his laughter.
“Oh, shut up, you.” Liam snarls humorlessly. Niall loses it and cracks up, and Liam seriously needs new friends.
Niall walk off, leaving him sitting alone at the table with a half eaten sandwich, still trying to figure out just what had happened.
He thinks, maybe, perhaps, the sensible approach might not work with Louis- but he’s not willing to give up just yet.
-
“Have you ever thought about your sexuality?” Liam asks in a rush, so that there’s no room for misinterpretation.
Louis glances up from the magazine he’s reading- it’s Vogue- to arch an eyebrow at him. It’s been a week since the “fat Louis” incident, and the lad has been more than a little cold towards him.
At least he’s stopped pointedly staring at him during meals, daring him to say something about whatever food he happened to be eating at the time. Liam thinks it’s progress, but he can’t ever be sure with Louis.
“What?” Louis snarks. Liam pays it no mind, because a snarky Louis is infinitely better than a tearful, hysterical Louis.
“You know. Like. Have you ever thought about, you know, being with other people. Other men.” He aims for casual, but hits mostly on awkward.
Louis sighed and turned fully to him.
“Look, Lili-” Liam can’t even begin to explain how much he truly despises that
nickname- “I know that ever since I helped Harry with his, you know, sexual crisis you guys think I’m some sort of human sexuality expert,” To say that absolutely no one thinks that would be a gross over exaggeration, “but I’m really not, okay? I’m just a normal guy, with a weird ability to tell when someone is in denial about being gay or straight. Okay?”
Liam feels his mouth drop open and just leaves it there, because he’s stuck trying to process the absurdity spewing from Louis’ mouth. He discreetly pinches his leg to see if this is a dream- and yep, this actually is his reality.
He would respond, but there are no words. Louis doesn’t seem to mind and graces him with a kind smile.
“I would say you should talk to Harry about this, but, you know. If it helps, I never really got those vibes from you, and I do have a pretty fantastic gay-dar. But you can always talk to me if you want to, even if I can’t really relate.”
Louis’ not done, Liam can see that he’s gearing up to give him a proper pep talk, but he can’t take it.
With a strange, strangled noise, Liam stands and walks off wondering how someone can be so completely fucking ridiculous.
He’ll have to try harder.
-
Nothing makes sense.
It’s not sensible.
And that’s not okay.
Liam has tried several times to broach the subject of homosexuality to Louis, only to be rebuffed, redirected, and detoured so many times that he’s beginning to think Louis has a solid career in politics later in life.
Liam would think it’s on purpose, if it weren’t for Louis’ wide, sincere, and honest blue eyes staring at him in a way that says look at me, I’m a puppy. A cute, stupid, oblivious puppy.
And Liam has officially Had Enough.
“You are gay, Louis.” he blurts out over Chinese one night.
Niall, Harry, and Zayn freeze, staring at him in shock and appall. That’s okay, though- because Liam has decided that this ends tonight.
“What are you doing?” Zayn hisses next to him. He ignores it.
“What?” Louis asks, laughing, “Just cause I can use chopsticks like a pro and you can’t?”
Louis thinks it’s a joke.
It’s not.
“No, Louis,” he says calmly, “Because you like men.”
Louis laughs in earnest, now. “No I don’t. Pass the rice, Niall.”
Niall doesn’t move
“Louis, listen to me. You like men, and it’s okay. But it’s time you accept it.” Liam keeps his face serious and his eyes sincere. Across the table, Harry begins frantically cutting his hand near his neck in the universal sign for ‘cut it out!’ and Niall is chanting “Abort, abort, abort!” under his breath.
Liam ignores them, too.
“Liam, listen to me,” Louis begins, mockingly, “I am not gay, and I do not like men.”
Liam sighs. “Look at your nails, Lou.”
Louis frowns and begins inspecting them. “What’s wrong with my nails? Did I break one?”
Liam rolls his eyes. “You’re wearing nail polish.”
“So?”
“Pink nail polish, Louis!”
“It compliments my skin tone!” Louis defends. He doesn’t seem to realize it only proves Liam’s point.
It becomes a battle of wills- one Liam will win.
“You have Channing Tatum as the background on your phone!” He accuses.
“It’s my inspiration to go to the gym!” Louis’ retorts.
“You’ve never had sex with a woman!”
“I’m saving myself for marriage!”
“You have a gay skin mag under your pillow!”
“I confiscated it from Harry to help him accept his heterosexuality!”
“You asked me what size I thought you’d be in heels!”
“You know I needed to know for the prank we played on Nick!”
“Oh, you mean the prank where you dressed up like a girl and flirted with him?” Liam asks
sarcastically with a dramatic eye roll.
“Yes! It was funny!”
“Nick got a boner!”
“Yeah- funny!”
“You wear girl jeans all the time, Lou!”
“I have a curvy figure, you know that Liam!”
“But you wear the ones with sequins!”
“I like how they glitter in the sun!”
“Enough!” Niall yells suddenly. Liam’s mouth, open and ready to retort, snaps shut with an audible
clink. Across from him, Louis’ cheeks are tinted pink with heat and he’s pouting.
“Okay.” Niall says in the silence. “Right. So can we just agree that no one is gay and move on?”
Liam feels a stab of betrayal and glares. Niall shrugs sheepishly, but doesn’t look apologetic.
“No.” Liam says stubbornly, as does Harry. Louis shoots him a pitying look.
“Well, we’re not talking about it anymore tonight.” Zayn says with finality. “Here’s the rice you wanted, Lou.”
Liam concedes that the discussion (read: argument) is over, and grumpily turns back to his lo mein. There are several minutes of awkward silence before conversation slowly picks up again, and before long everything returns to normal. Normal, of course, meaning Louis is flirting shamelessly with Harry while touching Zayn inappropriately from atop Niall’s lap.
It’s illogical. It’s non-sensible. Liam realizes he’s out of his depth, and gracefully bows out.
5.
“There’s something I want to tell you lads.” Louis says nervously. He called a band meeting five minutes ago, and the four others are squished on one couch, while he takes the one opposite.
“If you seriously called another band meeting to let us know you’re changing your hair, Louis, I’m going to hurt you. We discussed this last time, band meetings are for serious matters that effect all of us, not just you.” Harry huffs, which Louis thinks is a little unfair. His hair is important, and changing the style could very easily effect the morale of the band.
In any case, that’s not why he called them here.
“No!” he interrupts. “No, that’s not why I called you.”
“Alright then. What’s up?” Niall asks, though his attention is on his phone.
Louis licks his lips and can hear his heart thudding in his chest. He feels his hands begin to shake
and sweat, and nervously wipes them on his pants. Aside from auditioning for the X Factor, this is probably the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.
“I-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat before starting again, “I think, I mean I know, I mean-
I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”
Zayn chokes on his spit.
Liam’s jaw drops.
Niall drops his phone.
Louis panics. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. They’re supposed to smile at him and tell him they accept and love him no matter what. Why are they just staring?
Louis feels tears prick his eyes and hurriedly begins to explain.
“I know it’s a bit of a shock-” Zayn, who just finished coughing, choked again, “and I guess I’m
not entirely sure, but, I mean, I think I am.”
There’s more silence, and Louis can’t help but shift uncomfortably under their stares. He forces down the feelings of hurt, reminding himself that they were blindsided and it will take some time to get used to.
He tells them this, tells them he understands, but Niall cuts him off.
“No,” his voice sounds slightly strangled, “It’s fine, mate. Just- just how did you happen upon this realization? We’re dying to know.”
Louis frowns, considering.
“Well,” he begins, “I guess it was a couple of days ago. I was leaving the hotel room after spending the night with Tanner- you remember him, right guys? From the interview? We watched Grease and he wanted someone to sing Sandy’s parts, and I obviously know them, so. - anyways, I was leaving his hotel room one morning and I was stopped by this fan. She kept going on and on about how proud of me she is for all I’ve been doing for the Gay Rights movement here in America, and I just kept thinking, what is she talking about?”
Louis pauses for dramatic effect. Usually when he tells stories he has people on the edge of their seats, but right now all he’s getting from his band mates is varying degrees of disbelief and bafflement.
Huh. He must be losing his touch.
He hurriedly presses on.
“So, anyways, when I got back to the bus I looked it up. And, like, apparently, everyone thinks I’m gay. Which totally makes no sense, right? But then I started thinking about it, and I thought there must be a reason they all think that. And then it hit me- the indisputable proof that I’m gay.”
That’s more like it- Louis can clearly see the interest and anticipation on their faces. Liam is leaning forward significantly from his perch on the edge of his seat, Niall is biting his nails, and Harry is turning a bit blue from holding his breath. Zayn just has a small crease between his perfectly shaped eyebrows, so Louis takes that as the Bradford boys’ equivalent of ‘waiting with bated breath’, though with Zayn one can’t ever be sure.
One thing he does know for sure, though: he didn’t lose his touch after all.
Louis grins smugly and opens his mouth to put them out of their misery, when-
“Louis! Get your arse out here and explain to me why you bedazzled my entire security teams walkie-talkies!” Preston interrupts their band meeting with an angry bellow from just outside their bus.
Louis huffs and rolls his eyes, partly because he’s irritated the man stole his thunder, and partly because he didn’t think bedazzling walkie-talkies needed an explanation.
Obviously they were too dull and boring, now they’re nothing short of fabulous.
“Sorry, lads. We’ll continue this later, yeah?” He apologizes, standing up and stretching his arms high above his head. The action causes his shirt to ride up, and- hm. How would he look with a belly ring?
Maybe later.
Louis turns to leave, but is stopped by an indignant squawk. The sound came from Harry, or
possibly Niall- but definitely not Liam who is muttering “But-But… But…” (that boy never does make sense to Louis- always speaking in riddles, that one) or Zayn, who is frowning proper now.
Louis pauses, wondering what could possibly be the matter, when oh.
He gets it.
Louis heaves a heavy, woe-begotten sigh.
“With time, I hope you can all come to accept my sexuality.” He says dramatically, “Until then, I will do my best to be discreet. It will be just as it was before, yeah?”
As he goes to step off the bus, he can’t resist a parting shot.
“At least I have made peace with my sexuality.” Louis gives first Harry, then Liam, a meaningful look, before descending the stairs with all the flair of a Broadway diva.
Behind him, he hears the solid, continuous thud of someone’s head banging against the wall, a choked huff, a disbelieving groan, and incredulous muttering.
Louis shakes his head. Sometimes he just does not get these boys.