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“What’s the special today, then?” Louis sighed, knowing Harry probably came up with yet another terrible beverage-related pun. (By “probably” Louis meant “absolutely” since there wasn’t a day that went by since they started working at Neil’s Coffee Shop that Harry didn’t find some sort of pun to work with.)
“Not sure yet. Was waiting on your vote.”
“All right, Styles. Lay it on me.”
“Right. So,” Harry held up two hand-drawn chalk signs. One featured a cup of coffee but instead of steam, wispy blue lines drifted off the mug and curled into a stag head, much like tattoo on Louis’ arm. “We have ‘Espresso Patronum’ which is three shots of espresso in added to a normal brew, served hot or cold. With that much power, you’re sure to defeat whatever dementors come your way.”
Louis bit his lip, trying (unsuccessfully) to contain his fondness of the boy in front of him.
“Or, we have ‘Fleetwood Mac-chiato ’ which is an almond milk steamer with either a single or double shot of roasted hazelnut espresso.” Harry showed Louis the second sign that had a scarily accurate chalk replication of the Rumors album cover. “The roast gives it the smooth, smokey flavor you’d expect from a drink with ‘wood’ in it and the single or double shot is all about how much ‘fleet’ you need.”
Louis stared at his best friend with his mouth slightly agape. “You do talk some shit, don’t you?”
“So you don’t like either of them?” Harry’s face fell just the tiniest bit. Had it been any other person watching Harry, they would have missed the slight falter all together. But it wasn’t just any other person. It was Louis; Louis, who had spent more than half his life looking and watching Harry, committing each and every line and facial expression of Harry’s to memory. Knowing he hurt Harry in any way, even over coffee specials, broke his heart more than it probably should.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” Louis tried to recover quickly. “Harry, I love both of them. But I will never understand how your brain works. I can barely remember to put deodorant on both armpits in the morning and you’re creating some of the most ridiculous drinks I’ve ever heard. I’m impressed, is all.”
Louis wasn’t lying. The way Harry’s mind operated had always fascinated Louis. From the time they were kids, Harry would always know the perfect clever response to anything thrown at him. Bullies could never keep up with Harry, no matter how hard they tried to pick on him or Louis. Harry always managed to obliterate them with one hell of a one liner that would leave them floundering. In fact, that’s how they became friends.
Louis was all of nine years old, minding his own business reading the then-new Harry Potter book during outside playtime (like he always did) and stupid Trent Sande came up and snatched the book out of Louis’ hand.
“Oi, Tiny Tommo reading? Think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He taunted while tossing the book to one of his cronies. “Always got your nose stuck in a book. Still not very smart though, are you? Stupid Tiny Tommo and his itty bitty brain.”
“Hey!” a kid Louis had never seen before came strolling over to the scene. “I’ll race you to leave him alone,” the kid said to Trent. Louis had no idea what the kid was on about.
Apparently, neither did Trent since he just stared at this floppy-haired boy with a crooked grin plastered to his face.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Floppy Hair said. “I didn’t realize you were the one with the itty bitty brain. You must have a hard time understand simple things. I said, I will race you. First one to the fence and back wins. If I win, you give him back his book and leave him alone.”
“What if I win?” Trent asked.
Louis ping-ponged his attention between the two boys. He couldn’t help but wonder the same question. If Floppy Hair’s victory meant his peace, what, exactly, would his loss entail?
“No need to figure that out. You’re not going to win,” Floppy Hair shrugged off. Louis couldn’t help but feel panic rise. Floppy Hair was awfully flippant and cavalier with Louis’ life.
Louis was genuinely concerned. Floppy Hair was a good half foot shorter than Trent. His legs looked a bit like twigs, and no offense to Floppy Hair, but Louis was surprised he didn’t have a permanent inhaler attached to him around the neck. Trent must have thought the same thing because he agreed to the race. Wanting to protest, as it was his life that was being gambled on, he tried to speak up but found himself voiceless.
Before Louis knew it, they both took off and everyone was staring at them make their way across the playground and back.
Trent and Floppy Hair were neck and neck until out of nowhere, Floppy Hair must have turned on turbo boosters or something. He literally kicked up dust as he ran, leaving Trent coughing in his wake. Reaching back to their starting point, Floppy Hair grabbed the book from the cronie and handed it back to Louis without so much as a word. Louis sat stunned, and Floppy Hair positioned himself between Trent and the spot Louis sat. Everyone’s mouths were hanging open when Trent finally made it back.
“Maybe,” Harry smirked, “If you ran like you run your mouth, you’d have won.”
Louis’ eyes dang near bulged out of his head while a chorus of oooohhh ’s rang out from the crowd that had gathered. Trent fish-mouthed open and close clearly hoping some response would come.
It never did.
“You can go now,” Floppy Hair motioned for Trent and company to leave them be. When they finally started to walk away, he turned and sat next to Louis.
Still not able to understand what exactly just happened, Louis just stared in silence.
“Hey. I’m Harry. My family just moved here from Manchester. Think you’d like to be my friend?”
And that was that. Inseparable for the past thirteen years. They’ve done everything with each other from trading packed lunches to taking holidays together to moving in together, first as uni dorm-mates (because of course they planned out going to Uni together) and now as freshly-graduated-members-of-society flat-mates, to working the same part-time morning job before going to separate internships later in their days.
"Well, which one do you like better?”
“It’s a Monday. I feel like people are going to need the extra caffeine. Espresso Patronum .”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve already drawn little lightning bolts on a bunch of coffee sleeves. ”
“What if I had picked Fleetwood? There would just been a bunch of unused cardboard laying around.”
“Nah. I’d have saved them for tomorrow and used the ones with lyrics written all over them today,” Harry said, holding up a few he had pulled out of his bag. “Get it, Lou? ‘Brew can foam your own way…” Harry sang to himself, clearly chuffed at his double pun.
Louis would be lying if he said he didn’t find it endearing. All of it. The puns, the pride, the man as a whole. Definitely endeared by all of Harry.
“Tomorrow, then. It’s almost too bad we don’t sell more food than just baked goods here.”
“Why’s that?”
“We could have a whole Fleetwood day. The Fleetwood Mac-chiato. Fleetwood Mac & Cheese. Lindsay Bucking- Ham & Swiss on Rye. Stevie (K)Nick-ed myself making this chopped chicken.”
Harry slowly blinked (well, just regular blinked for Harry). Louis felt slightly embarrassed. He knew he should have left the puns to Harry, he was always so much more clever than Louis could ever hope to be. Just then, Harry cracked the biggest smile and Louis’ heart did a complete 180 and fluttered with abandon.
“Who’s going to call Niall?” Harry asked, confusing the daylights out of Louis.
“What’s he got to do with anything?”
“As he’s our boss, I figure we should probably call him and let him know his only two morning employees are putting their two weeks in.”
Still lost. “We are?”
“How else are we going to open our new shop?”
“H, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Keep up, Lou. I’m talking about our new cafe, Band-whiches!” Harry exclaimed with a flourish of his hand, indicating a grand marquee sign.
“Ah, yes. This shop you speak of,” Louis said now that he finally caught on. “Is it only Fleetwood related eats, or is it open to all bands?”
Harry exaggerated fake contemplation. “All bands, of course! We’re equal opportunity. All bands welcome.”
This game was a particular favorite of Louis’. He and Harry would spend stupid amounts of time coming up with fake business plans, usually (always) based around some sort of word-play. Their bar, La Poisson (French for “fish”) was going to have floor to ceiling fish tanks with every drink being served in a fishbowl. Their landscaping company, Law’n Order, would give the guarantee that they’d do the lawn justice. And Louis’ personal favorite business adventure, Indiana Bones and the Temple of Groom, would offer plenty of pet pam-purrrrrr-ing.
“Well in that case, may I present a ‘Kurt Cuban ’e’ for your consideration? With Cuban style shredded pork on a blunt-cut bun?”
Harry burst into laughter and Louis pushed down the pride that surged in him. It was his favorite things in the world to do, make Harry laugh.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen,” Harry announced to the empty (re: still not open) coffee shop in a fashion reminiscent of an old circus ringmaster, “is why I love Louis Tomlinson, best friend extraordinaire!”
Louis swallowed down the lump in his throat. He looked at his best friend and, though falling in love with him was never part of the plan, it happened. It keeps happening; Over and over again on a daily basis. Sometimes, even that’s too long between falling in love with Harry.
“You too, H,” Louis replied quietly, moving to the door and flipping over the Closed sign to Open. “Love you.”
*****
“Liiiiiaaaaammmmm. You don’t understand!”
“I understand plenty, Harry. I understand that you’re too dense to realize that Louis has feelings for you, too.”
“He doesn’t.” At least, Harry is pretty sure Louis doesn’t have feelings for him.
“Have you asked him?” Liam sighed.
“No. Have you?”
“I don’t need to. Because I’m not blind.”
“I’m not either,” Harry snapped back.
“You’re blinded by love, and that’s just as bad.”
Harry just sighed and slunk down into the super comfy, oversized chair. Having a plethora of lamenting furniture came with the territory of interning at a counseling facility. He avoided eye contact with Liam.
“Fine. Tell me this. Do you think he would turn you away if he knew your feelings?”
Harry figured the answer was yes. Probably not. Maybe?
“Don’t try and be my therapist now.”
“I’ve been your therapist. For the last four and a half years I’ve known you, I’ve been your therapist. Or did you forget Intro to Psych first year?”
How could Harry forget? It was his very first class of Uni and Louis was supposed to be there with him. Instead Louis had changed his major without even telling Harry.
“Law!” Harry had muttered to no one in particular while walking into his psych lecture. “Who even cares about law?”
“My boyfriend studies law.”
“And you are…?” Harry questioned the boy who he had apparently plopped himself down next to in his Louis-induced huff.
“Liam. Liam Payne. You asked me who cares about law. I was just telling you that my boyfriend studies law. This school has a great law program.”
“So I’ve heard. Except we were supposed to be doing psychology. Together. We’ve done everything together and now he’s up and left me for Lady Freaking Liberty.”
“I can see how that would be upsetting to you,” Liam folded his hands in his lap.
“It’s not that I really even care about him doing law. It’s that we registered for classes, together. Made our schedules together. And then he went and changed it all behind my back.”
“Did you tell him how much it bothered you?”
“He told me he never did it to hurt me and didn’t realize I would get so upset about it. I told him he’s a bitch-ass liar and if he really didn’t think it would hurt my feelings, he wouldn’t have waited until our first day of class to tell me.”
“If my boyfriend had done that too, I’d be just as upset.”
“My boyf- what? No. Louis is not my boyfriend. He’s just, well not just , but he’s my best friend. Not boyfriend.”
“Well, you’re certainly upset over your not-boyfriend.”
“It’s just that,” Harry paused. Because what was it, really? “We might be a little codependent on each other and now I’m starting to think maybe I’m way more reliant on him than he is on me.”
“So are you upset with him or yourself?”
And, well, there was a reason Liam Payne was a psych major. Obviously Harry was more upset with himself. He could never actually be mad at Louis, especially for following his dreams. It’s just that, he never saw a life that didn’t completely involve Louis. That’s just how it was. Where there was a Louis, there was a Harry. And now for the first time, there was a Louis, full stop. And there was a Harry, full stop. The idea that this could be the start of the end of LouisandHarry was enough to make him want to vomit. If he was ever pressed as to when, exactly, he realized he had more than friendship feelings for Harry, it would have been then, staring at Liam, wondering how much he owed him for the therapy session.
Turns out, Harry didn’t need to panic quite as much as he thought. Sure, the four years of conflicting schedules and rigorous coursework created some tension between them. But every night, no matter how late, they usually ended up curled together in one bed, despite each having their own. It was a comfort thing. Definitely not a kind-of-in-love-with-you thing. (Except for Harry it was maybe a little bit of a kind-of-in-love-with-you thing.)
Either way, they always made time for each other. It helped that Liam’s law studying boyfriend, Zayn, was in a lot of Louis’ classes so the four of them ended up spending a lot of time studying together.
(It also helped that Liam’s best friend’s dad owned the best coffee shop in town, which happened to be hiring two part-time employees, that Louis and Harry happened to apply for and land.)
All that said, almost five years later and Harry’s kind-of-in-love thing has turned full-on-in-love. Harry was in love with his best friend and Liam just didn’t understand since he and Zayn were practically six seconds away from getting married while Harry and Louis were...not.
“All right, H. I might have a plan.”
Harry’s ears perked up and he finally met Liam’s eyes after what felt like hours (but was probably more like two minutes.) “You do?”
“No, but between me and Zayn and Niall, I promise we’ll figure out a way to get you two together. Now, you need to vacate. My three o’clock appointment will be here any minute. So will yours.”
Harry begrudgingly stood up from the chair and kissed Liam smack dab in the middle of his forehead. “It’s sweet of you to think so, but he doesn’t feel the same way.”
“Whatever you say, H. Just remember to make me best man at your wedding.”
Harry smiles softly. It was a nice thought, marrying Louis. A pipe dream. A fantasy. “Sure Liam. You’ll be my best man. How does a sunset wedding on the beaches of Costa Rica sound?”
(Hey, if he’s going to have a fantasy wedding to Louis, he might as well have it in a fantasy location, too. Go big or go him, right?)
*****
“There’s no way, Zayn. He’s gonna see through this so fast!”
“He won’t. Or, he might. Is it so bad that he does?”
“See through this terrible, not at all realistic plan to make him jealous? Not only would it be bad, it would be utterly humiliating. Because he won’t be jealous. I’ll be heartbroken without even a real date to try and make it better. No. Nope. Not going to happen.”
There was no way Louis was going to go on a fake date with some random person just to see if Harry reacted. It’s not that either of them hadn’t dated in the past. They had. (And had fucked plenty of people along the way, too.) But for some reason or another, it never quite worked out for either of them. Louis managed to find something wrong with every single person he ever attempted to date. One guy chewed too loudly. Another guy moaned too much. A different guy didn’t moan enough. No matter what they did or didn’t do, they were never Harry and that alone was reason enough to not stay for breakfast.
“Just think about it, Louis,” Zayn spoke softly. “You go out with a guy. Either Harry cares and you finally see he’s got feelings for you, or he doesn’t care and you can finally move on. No matter which way it goes, there will finally be some clarity.”
“You really think I could really ever just move on from him? He’s been my life for over half my life. I don’t think there’s moving on from that.”
"No, babes. I don’t think you could move on. But I also don’t think you’d have to. We wouldn’t have to go through this whole song and dance if you’d just tell him how you feel.”
In not so many words, Louis had.
When they were fourteen, it was Louis who first came out to Harry with a whispered I don’t think I’ll ever like girls the way I like you only to have Harry follow up with I don’t think I’ll ever like girls at all.
It was Louis at age sixteen who rubbed Harry’s back while he laid sobbing in Louis’ bed after the heartbreak of a first real crush turning out to be some horrible douche who only asked Harry to the school dance on a dare. It was also Louis at sixteen who got dressed up in his best suit and arranged with Harry’s mum, Anne, to have Harry’s suit ready to go for when Louis showed up on Harry’s doorstep with a boutonniere that perfectly matched the color of Louis’ tie and asked him to the dance instead.
It was Louis at eighteen going with Harry to the pharmacy to buy condoms for the first time, warning Harry that if whoever he was going to sleep with ever hurt Harry, he would plow a city bus through his house.
It was Louis at twenty, holding Harry’s hair back after seven too many shots after getting dumped murmering His loss, H. He was never good enough for you. No one will ever be good enough for you.
And it was Louis just last night making Harry his favorite dinner after a particularly difficult session with a parent who lost their child to anti-gay bullying induced suicide, knowing how without each other, that could have been either Anne or his own mother, Jay, in that chair.
He’s always been the one to hold Harry’s hand through everything. Weren’t actions supposed to speak louder than words?
"I’ve thought I’ve made it obvious enough. He can’t really be that much of an oblivious donut.”
“He can be. And he is. Trust me on this. That boy would launch himself to Neptune if you suggested it.”
“I don’t want him on Neptune. I want him laying his head on my lap instead.”
“He already does that,” Zayn gently reminded him.
“Not in the way I want him to,” Louis knew he was being petulant. But knowing and doing something about it were two very different things.
“Just think about it. I know a guy who, if nothing else, will provide a nice distraction for a few hours. He’s nice and sweet, and funny, too.”
“Why haven’t I ever heard you speak of this guy before now?” Louis asked, suspiciously.
“He’s a paralegal at my law firm. I’d only worked with him in passing, but we started working on a case a few weeks back. Now, getting to know him, I think it would be a really nice time, you and him. I’ll even tell him there is no chance of romance, unless you’d maybe want to leave that open?”
“No. No chance. But I guess I’ll let you pay for my dinner with him.”
“There’s a good lad. I’ll set it all up and tell you where and when to be.”
“What if...what if Harry doesn’t care at all?” Louis’ voice shook. He couldn’t explain it, but he and Harry felt like they were reaching fever pitch and the next thing coming was either a make or break situation for them. Louis would rather swallow glass than break them.
“Then, you come over and Liam and I will cuddle you and spoon-feed you ice cream until you forget your broken heart.”
“Great. I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you boys.”
Zayn just rolled his eyes and opened his arms. Louis was never one to turn down a cuddle, especially a preemptive heart mending cuddle. Besides, the way Louis sees it, Zayn’s going to need a lot of practice for when Louis inevitably shows up devastated after his fake blind date.
*****
Lame-o Payno: I figured it out!
Stroppy Styles: Figured what out?
Lame-o Payno: The great Louis-and-Harry will they/wont they conundrum
Stroppy Styles: *spoiler alert* they wont
Stroppy Styles: But im interested
Stroppy Styles: What is it?
Lame-o Payno: Ok, so Z convinced Lou to go on a blind date
Stroppy Styles: …
Stroppy Styles: Your plan to get us together is to set him up with someone else?
Stroppy Styles: Cancelled. Both of you
Lame-o Payno: Just listen
Lame-o Payno: Z told him you would get jealous of him
Stroppy Styles: I AM JEALOUS OF HIM
Lame-o Payno: It’s fake, H
Stroppy Styles: What kind of fake?
Lame-o Payno: Like he knows he’s only doing it to make you jealous
Lame-o Payno: But you can’t act jealous
Lame-o Payno: Encourage him to go on the date
Lame-o Payno: He needs to go on the date, no matter what
Stroppy Styles: Why would I want that?
Lame-o Payno: Cuz you’re gonna be the date!!!!!
Stroppy Styles: ...
Lame-o Payno: It’s perfect. He’ll go all sad that you don’t care and then when you show up he’ll shit himself
Stroppy Styles: So Im supposed to lie to him and then he’s magically going to fall in love with me?
Stroppy Styles: Wow. Great plan
Lame-o Payno: 2 things
Lame-o Payno: 1 - he’s not going to fall in love with you...he’s already in love with you
Lame-o Payno: 2 - you’ve been lying to him
Lame-o Payno: For years
Stroppy Styles: ...
Lame-o Payno: Exactly. Trust me
Stroppy Styles: I do. But what if this doesnt work?
Lame-o Payno: It will
Stroppy Styles: But if it doesnt?
Lame-o Payno: Then you come over and z and I will cuddle you and spoon-feed you ice cream until you forget about your broken heart
Stroppy Styles: It better be mint chocolate chip
Lame-o Payno: IF it gets to that point, it will be
Stroppy Styles: Fine. We’ll talk more about it at work tomorrow
Lame-O Payno: K. Its gonna work. I promise. Tell him you think going on this date is good idea
Lame-o Payno: Cuz it is a good idea
Lame-o Payno: Cuz you will be his date
Lame-o Payno: ...and Z and I will finally get some peace and quiet!
*****
“Harry? You home?” Louis yelled down the hall. He waited just a moment to hear any sort of reply. He was actually going to tell Harry he was going on a date for the first time in months, perhaps even a year.
“In my room. Be right out!” Harry called back. Louis dropped his bags off on the sofa and paddled his way towards Harry’s room.
“No need, I’ll come to you,” Louis said, walking in to find Harry with the blanket pulled up to his armpits, setting his phone face down (which, he never does that) and smiling weakly back at Louis. “Do you mind?” Louis asked, going to Harry’s closet and pulling out his favorite hoodie. Harry shook his head no, so Louis stripped off his own drizzle-damp sweatshirt and tossed it on the floor before putting Harry’s on and crawling into Harry’s bed. For some reason, he stayed a bit closer to edge than normal, just in case he’d need a quick exit from the conversation he was about to have.
"How was your day? How was lunch with Zayn?”
Of course that would be the first thing Harry asks him.
“Uh, my day was fine,” Louis replied, hoping to gloss over things for a bit until he worked up the courage to tell Harry about his fake date. Harry’s text tone went off but Harry left the phone face down on the comforter. Now Louis was incredibly suspicious. “Who are you talking to?”
“No one.”
Louis knew instantly Harry was lying. What he didn’t understand was why. They never lied to each other. (Well they never lied about anything other than that. )
“Why are you being weird about it?” Louis asked.
“I’m not. It’s just Liam.”
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
“What? I don’t know. He’s just texting to remind me of our team meeting in the morning.”
Louis couldn’t help but wonder if that was the truth. Harry had never needed to lie about Liam texting him before. Why immediately lie now and say no one? If that’s all it was, why was it such a big deal? Maybe Louis was reading too much into it. Maybe it was just that fever-pitch anxiety he had tried to explain to Zayn that was making him so suspicious of everything Harry said and did.
(Or maybe it was just projecting his own stress onto Harry since the reality was he was the one lying to Harry.)
“Right,” Louis tried to cover up his concerns. “Does that mean you’re not going to be at Neil’s tomorrow?”
“And miss Perky Blenders day? Nah, I’ll be there, but I have to bug out early. Niall’s going to come in early to cover for me.”
“Perky Blinders?” Louis smiled into his pillow (no really, they both had their own pillows on each other’s bed). “Do I even dare ask?”
“It’s an Irish Cream coffee frappuccino.”
“Of course it is.”
“What can I say? You binged the entire season twice in like three weeks. I couldn’t stop thinking there had to be a pun in there somewhere. I’m almost ashamed it took me as long as it did.”
“You would be,” Louis laughed a little bit. This was good. It almost felt normal. Like he wasn’t about the lie point blank to Harry. Louis took a deep breath and finally looked up, meeting Harry’s eyes for the first time all night. “Um, H?”
“Yeah Lou?”
"Can I tell you something?” He could hear the blood rushing through his ears.
"Boo, you know you can tell me anything.”
Louis hated how the term of endearment made his heart feel full. It wasn’t long into their friendship that Louis first brought Harry home to meet his family. Louis had spent hours reminding his mum not to call him “Boo”, the way she so very often did. She had promised over and over again she wouldn’t. Not even fifteen minutes into Harry hanging out up in Louis’ room, Jay had called up to them, “Hey, Boo? Snacks are ready for you and Harry!” Louis was so certain Harry was going to tease him mercilessly about the nickname. Instead, Harry just smiled and said “C’mon, Boo. Let’s get some snacks!” and never made him feel silly about it.
Without ever having a conversation in regards to it, Harry somehow instinctively knew “Boo” was reserved for family. He’d never once slipped up around their friends or made mention to it outside of just them.
“So you asked about my lunch with Zayn.”
“I did.”
“It was good. He had a bit of a proposition for me.”
“Oh?” Harry sounded a bit unconvinced. (Harry and Louis both.)
“Yeah. There’s this guy. From his firm, apparently,” Louis went back to avoiding Harry’s gaze. Avoiding looking, but not avoiding feeling. Louis felt like he would have two holes burning into his face if Harry’s eyes were actually lazers. “Zayn thinks we might get on well.”
"So what exactly does that mean?” Harry said quietly. Louis couldn’t figure out his tone, though. Louis had never had a problem figuring that out. (Firstly, Harry wore his emotions out and open at all times. Secondly, Louis and Harry tended to share one brain more often than not. Usually they didn’t even have to speak in order to understand each other.)
“It means he wants me to go on a…” Louis trailed off. He didn’t want to finish the sentence and maybe finally know once and for all that Harry could care less about him dating someone else.
“...a date.”
“Yeah, a date,” Louis confirmed.
“That’s...that’s great Lou. If Zayn says you’d like him, I’m sure you will.”
And.
Louis had to forcefully tell his lungs to expand. Inhale. Exhale. “You think?”
"Louis, outside of me, Zayn is your closest friend, right? So if he thinks it’d be a good match, it probably would be.”
Logically, Louis knew Harry would be right under normal circumstances. But these aren’t normal circumstances. This is fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. But Harry doesn’t know that. Harry doesn’t know this isn’t real and is still pushing him into it.
“I don’t know. Zayn said he’s really funny. Very sweet and smart. And apparently not too bad on the eyes,” Louis took a deep breath, still trying to read Harry. (He might have been over selling it, just in case Harry needed help to catch on.) “Which, all things considered, I could use a nice face too look at for a while, compared to yours all the time.” (Definitely a lie, but the whole thing was, so why stop now?)
“If I were you, I’d definitely want to see a better face than mine all the time, too. You should do it, Boo. It’s been a long time since you even went out with anyone. Drinks and dinner will do you some good. Who knows.”
Well, at least Louis had his answer.
“Sure, H. You’re probably right,” Louis swallowed down hard and blinked away tears that almost threatened to come. He made move to get out of Harry’s bed. He had to before he suffocated from the weight of his whole heart breaking inside his chest.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, uh, I was going to head to my room. I’ve got a bit of work to finish up yet tonight.”
“You can do it in here, I’ll be up for a bit. It wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.”
(That was the problem though, wasn’t it? Nothing ever bothered Harry Styles, Oblivious Donut - including Louis going on a date with someone that wasn’t Harry.)
“That’s okay, H. I’ll be fine.”
“But what if I won’t be?”
Louis was about to respond before hearing Harry’s text tone go off from his phone again.
“Tell Liam hi for me. Goodnight, H,” he said, practically running out of Harry’s room. It was the first night in recent memory that he didn’t spend curled up into Harry
(If he ignored Harry’s faint “Goodnight, Lou.” then so be it. Call it self-preservation.)
*****
Lame-O Payno: ???
Lame-O Payno: Did you get my last messages?
Lame-O Payno: You’ve got to convince him
Lame-O Payno: You better be talking to him
Lame-O Payno: Only acceptable reason to ignore me
Stroppy Styles: He hates me
Lame-O Payno: He doesnt
Stroppy Styles: He does tho
Stroppy Styles: Wouldnt even look me in the eye saying goodnight
Lame-O Payno: Doesnt mean he hates you
Stroppy Styles: I guess
Stroppy Styles: BUT
Stroppy Styles: He’s certainly not happy with me
Lame-O Payno: He will be when you show up for your date
Stroppy Styles: He wont
Lame-O Payno: I’m already budgeting for Costa Rica
Lame-O Payno: Thats how sure I am
Stroppy Styles: Yeah well
Stroppy Styles: You better start budgeting for mint ice cream by the bucket instead
Stroppy Styles: I’m buying like eighteen pairs of stretch pants
Stroppy Styles: Thats how convinced I am
Lame-O Payno: Whatever dude
Stroppy Styles: Im lying to the person I love
Stroppy Styles: Its the absolute worst feeling in the world
Lame-O Payno: Just a few more days
Stroppy Styles: I’ll start packing my bags
Stroppy Styles: Hope your couch is comfy
*****
“For the record,” Niall sighed, handing Louis a fresh cup of tea, “You two are idiots and I think this whole thing is a disaster plan.”
“Take it up with Zayn. He’s the mastermind and I’m clearly an idiot puppet. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. Harry doesn’t care about my date. Might as well enjoy it for what it is.”
“Or, you could just go home tonight and tell Harry it’s him that you’d like to take out on a date instead of playing this bullshit game.”
“It’s too late,” Louis sighed.
“You and I both know it’s not.”
The thing is, Louis didn’t know. He hasn’t known for years where he was supposed to fit long term in Harry’s life. Ever since their first real fight about differing majors, Louis wasn’t ever positive of anything. He thought Harry would have been happy for him when he told him he wanted to be a lawyer. Instead, Harry got upset and slammed the dorm door in Louis’ face. Since then, Louis always kind of felt like Harry didn’t fully support him. Except about this. Clearly Harry fully supported Louis finding someone else to date.
“I don’t want to worry about Harry anymore. I already told Zayn to let this guy know I’m considering it a real date. I’m going to be 24 soon and I can’t fuck off my whole life because of Harry. It’s not practical anymore.”
(Maybe if he said it enough, he’d start to believe it.)
“All right then,” Niall clapped him on the back. “Here’s what you should do. Go all out. Pull on your tightest jeans, you know those black ones with the ripped knees? Those. Then, you get your most seductive shirt. I suggest that red one with the wide collar that Harry got you for Christmas. And you go and pull.”
The thought of pulling whatever random guy Zayn picked out for him made him nauseous. But he needed something to get him out of his head and maybe help put some distance back between him and his feelings for Harry.
“What do you have to lose?” Niall asked.
Louis supposed he was right about that. He’d already lost Harry so what else was there left to lose? (Anything but pride and dignity, not that it meant much anymore.)
*****
“You look...shit, Lou. You look amazing,” Harry’s breath hitched. He was wearing a pair of black skinnies so tight Harry was convinced they were practically sewn on. Paired with it was a cranberry scoop neck Harry had gotten for Louis last Christmas. If Harry had known Louis was going to wear it out on a date that Louis thought was with someone else, Harry would have left it on the rack and walked away. It was kind of like a knife through his heart, if Harry was honest.
“You think?” Louis gave himself another once over in the bathroom mirror. He adjusted his fringe after Harry talked him into wearing it down instead of in a quiff. It didn’t really matter how Louis wore his hair, he always looked stunning. But if this was Harry’s date too, he might as well try and get the most pleasure possible. (And yes, Louis with fringe was one hundred percent pleasurable for Harry since Louis was constantly playing with his fringe with delicate touches that Harry liked to imagine himself doing to Louis instead.)
“You think he’ll like it?” Louis asked.
Harry exhaled slowly. Not that he forgot, but Harry hated being reminded that all of this, everything Louis was doing, was for this imaginary date...not that Louis knew that. It made it worse knowing that Louis actually believed all of this was for someone else.
“If he doesn’t,” Harry collected himself hearing Liam’s chant of Sell it! Sell it! Sell it! in his ear, “He’s a fucking idiot. He certainly doesn’t deserve you.” (Harry wasn’t sure if he was talking about the fake date or himself.)
Louis looked at him with eyes wide. It took every single muscle in Harry’s body fighting against the urge to rush up on Louis and kiss him. Harry knew he was actually going to be Louis’ date, but right now all he wanted to do was beg and please Louis not to go.
Instead, what came out was, “What time is the date?”
“Zayn said for me to meet him at eight, sharp.”
Harry checked his watch. It was barely half six now. The plan was to head to Liam and Zayn’s, as it was close to where Zayn had set up the fake-date for Louis. Shortly after eight, Harry would make his way to the restaurant. It would give Louis just enough time to think his fake-date was bailing on him and give Harry the chance to swoop in and save the day. (And by save the day, Harry meant “try and fix the fucked up situation he had put Louis in in the first place.” Semantics.)
“Cool. Well, I’m going to get out of your hair and let you finish up getting ready.”
“You’re not going to see me off?”
“Nah. You go and have fun. I’m going to go crash at Gemma’s tonight so feel free to...do whatever.”
“Harry, I’m not going to bring my date back here tonight.”
“Don’t be so sure, Lou. One look at you and he’ll probably want to skip dinner all together,” Harry said, giving Louis one last glance. “I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later.” (It was a weird combination of jealousy over a non-existent date and defeat, since Louis didn’t know it wasn’t real.)
“Yeah, H. I’ll...talk to you later. Have fun at Gem’s.”
Harry closed the front door of their apartment and made it to the first step of the stairwell before he broke down. Louis thought he was going on a date. He deserved a good date with a good man, one that didn’t lie to him. He needed to get to Liam and Zayn as fast as possible and call it off.
Harry practically ran to their apartment but the message fell short on his lips when Liam opened the door to him.
“Harry, you need to go to Gemma’s.”
“What the- what are you talking about?”
“Listen,” Zayn thrust his phone at Harry’s ear.
“I’m not doing this, Zayn.” Louis breathed into the phone. “It’s not worth it to me. Tell your guy that I’m sorry but I can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Whatever you need to tell him, just call it off. I’m going to Gemma’s and I’m going to talk to Harry. It’s finally time. I have to tell him.”
“He’s...he’s going to Gemma’s? To tell me what”
“For you, H. He’s...holy shit. He’s coming to get you instead of going on his date.”
“But...I’m...I don’t understand.”
“Harry, you wanker! He’s not going on the date. He’s going to Gemma’s. To you.”
“But I’m not at Gemma’s. Gemma’s not even at Gemma’s.”
“Then you better hurry up and get there,” Liam said, holding up his car keys. “And you’ve got a set of keys to her place. She’s your sister. You know she’d absolutely be fine with you breaking in if it meant you and Louis finally getting together.”
“You think that’s what’s going to happen?”
“You sure are a dense donut. That’s exactly what’s going to happen. How could you even question that? Go get your boy, H. He’s coming for you and you best be ready for him.”
Louis was coming. For him.
*****
Reaching the top of the tube steps, Louis schooled his breathing into an even pace. He was only a block away from Gemma’s and thus, only a block away from telling Harry everything.
Everything. The fake date plan and ultimately, why.
Each step he took in the direction of Gemma’s flat, he rehearsed what he was going to say.
Harry, we need to talk.
Hiya, H. Mind a chat?
So the thing is I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
(Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t lead with that. He’d probably vomit if he even tried.)
Louis stood in front of Gemma’s building, a building he stood in front of hundreds of times but none of those times were ever as important as this.
“Louis! Lou!” Louis heard Harry call from somewhere behind him. He spun around and saw an ou- of-breath Harry charging at him. “I thought...What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? I’m here to see you. What are you doing out here? THought you were supposed to be up there,” Louis gestured vaguely upward at Gemma’s building.
“Went to get some wine.”
Louis squinted his eyes, perplexed. For what he could tell, Harry’s hands were empty and it was highly unlike Gemma to not have at least a handful of bottles of wine on hand, especially when she knew Harry was coming over.
“What about your date?” Harry asked. (Louis would have described his question as coy, but who was Louis to assume?)
“Yeah. About that,” Louis spoke slowly and cautiously. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”
"Yeah. Yes. Absolutely I would.”
“Should we go up and at least let Gems know you forgot the wine you supposedly went out to buy and now you’re going to ditch her?”
“Nah. She’s not here,” Harry said, as if that explained everything. Instead it just confused Louis even more. “So where would you like to walk?”
Louis took a deep breath and figured they’d just walk and let the night take them wherever they ended up. He took a few steps to his left and looked back at Harry, indicating this was the direction they should start in.
After some time of walking in silence, Harry finally broke the tension between them.
“What happened to your date? Didn’t he show?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Louis sighed. “I actually...I couldn’t go through with it.”
“Why not?” Harry stopped short and Louis followed suit.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Louis said, not quite reaching Harry’s gaze. “But first, Louis turned and kept walking, heading directly towards a small chip shop. “I’m starved. Held off eating all day so I could have gorged on Zayn’s dime. Clearly that worked out well for me. Shall we?” Louis knew he was buying some time and was sure Harry could tell. Thankfully, Harry trotted up behind him.
“I could eat.”
They ordered and waited for their food in a slightly uncomfortable silence. Once they picked up their order they made their way to a bench in front of the shop and took their first bites without so much as word or glance between them.
“Hey, Lou?” Once again Harry broke the silence.
“Yeah, H?”
“ Cod I interest you in a bite of my chip butty?”
Louis smiled brightly but rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “I’d like to come up with a clever response, but honestly I’m floundering. ”
“I think we found our next venture. Sole Food.”
“I don’t know, H. Something about a chip shop being called Sole Food seems a bit fishy to me.”
“That’s fair. What about Fishcotheque? We could have live music on Fry- days.”
Louis finished the last of his chips and wiped off his salt-clad fingers, taking Harry’s garbage from his hands and dropping it in the rubbish bin next to him.
“You really are something else,” Louis laughed mostly to himself.
“And just what exactly am I, Boo?” Harry sat, silent, waiting for an answer. Louis knew it was getting to be that point where he needed to come clean. Just a few more deep breaths, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Wordlessly, Louis stood up and held out a hand to pull Harry up. Harry grasped it and together they kept walking. They warmth of Harry’s hand in his sparked a sense of calm, of bravery within Louis. (Not that this was the first time they held hands. It was almost a regular occurrence between them. But Louis would be lying if he didn’t say this time felt different. Charged.)
“So about my date,” Louis eventually started at the exact moment Harry began to say, “I’m sorry I lied about Gemma’s.”
They both stopped short and waited for other to continue.
“What were you going to say, Lou?” Harry spoke softly.
“Oh, uh, I just was going to tell you that my date...it wasn’t really a date.”
“Then what was it?”
“It was-” Louis started. He swallowed hard and dropped Harry’s hand. “It was a poor plan to get some clarification.”
“And did you?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Louis offered in answer.
“I don’t understand.”
“Halfway to the restaurant, I realized I wasn’t in the mood for a date. Well, not a blind one anyway.” Louis knew he wasn’t making much sense.
“Can I tell you something?” Harry asked, then continued without waiting for a response. “I wasn’t really going to Gemma’s. I was actually going to go to Liam and Zayn’s. I just...I couldn’t be there, watching you get ready for your date. It was...it was too much for me.”
Now it was Louis’ turn to be confused. Harry was the one who told him how to wear his hair and which shoes looked best with his outfit. It was Harry who even suggested stopping and getting a flower for his date.
“Harry,” Louis started.
“No, Louis. Let me finish. You’ve always taken the lead when I’ve needed you and I think, I hope, we’re on the same page and I can finally lead you through this.”
Louis gulped, suddenly very aware of the night air growing suffocating around him.
“You’ve always been my best friend, Lou. The moment I saw you reading Harry Potter on the playground, my heart just knew you were going to have a permanent home there. That’s the thing about soulmates. No matter where we are, you always make it feel like home.”
Soulmates? Did Louis really hear him correctly? He opened his mouth to respond but Harry just kept talking.
“I don’t know when it happened, exactly, but jealousy has crept in an consumed me.”
“Jealousy of what, H?”
“Of everything. Of the pillow you rest your head on at night instead of my chest. Of the clothes you wear because they touch your skin in ways I long for. Of Niall, every time he makes you laugh because I was too slow on the joke. And mostly jealous of any man who ever got your attention because I just…” Harry trailed off and reached back out for Louis’ hand. “I hated that you went into law. Not because you’re not going to make one hell of a lawyer. You are. You’re practically made for it.”
“Then why?” Louis whispered, trying to process everything that was coming out of Harry’s mouth.
“Because my whole life since knowing you, I just wanted it to be you and I forever. I was so afraid you’d find something to replace me and I’d be left with a Louis-shaped hole in my heart. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here,” Louis squeezed Harry’s hand in confirmation. “Do you want to know why I went into law instead? I did it for you. I did it because my whole life knowing you , you’ve always been the one to defend me, to help me. I thought someday you’d resent me for not being able to take care of myself. I wanted to go into law to prove to you that I was worthy of you, as an equal. I wanted to show you that I could do something on my own so that when I told you I was in love with you, you’d see I was worthy of being loved, not just taken care of.”
“You...You’re in love with me?”
“I am.”
“You fucking idiot.”
Louis felt Harry’s words like a punch to the gut. The air instantly left his lungs and he couldn’t catch his breath. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything about love. Fucking idiot was right.
“I’m sor-”
“How could you ever think you’re not worthy?” Harry cut him off. “You are fucking everything. The sun and moon, and every other cheesy thing in the universe ever used to describe love.”
“I am?” Louis whispered. The gut punch suddenly turned into a burning fire. Every part of his skin heated from the inside out. His cheeks flushed, thankful the sky had turned dark enough to hide the pink skin.
Harry leaned closer to Louis, using his free hand, the one not clasped tightly around Louis’ own hand, to adjust the fringe that had fallen onto Louis’ eyelashes. Gently, Harry swept the hair to the side and had Louis been closing his eyes, he would have sworn a butterfly had landed on his lips instead of another pair of lips. He watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered closed when he kissed deeper. Louis followed and closed his eyes, leaning back into Harry. Before long, Harry broke the kiss, breathing heavily, forehead pressed against Louis’.
“You are, Boo. You’re everything. My everything. I spend every moment wondering how you are, if you’ve made time to eat a good lunch. I think about stupid puns all day in hopes they make you laugh. I don’t think I love any sound the way I love your laugh.”
Louis went up on his tiptoes to kiss Harry again, just barely on the edge of lips and cheek.
“You’re my everything, too, Harry. I hate when you work late and we miss dinner together. I hate when Liam and Zayn are around when all I want to do is have a cuddle with you. I crawl into your bed most nights because just being around you is like a reset button for my sanity. So often I get bogged down with the weight of everything that I don’t know how I can get up in the morning, but waking up beside you, it feels like I can face anything the day throws at me.”
Harry just stared at him brilliantly. The boy who saved him on a playground from a bully was now the man who saved him from himself, every single day. They began to walk, aimlessly with Louis’ had resting on Harry’s shoulder. Louis gave up control of direction and let Harry lead him until he recognized their own neighborhood. He looked up at Harry with knowing eyes.
“It’s getting late, Boo. We should get home.”
“Why’s that, Harry?”
“I told you. One look at you and your date is going to want you to take him back to your place.”
“So you’re my date now?”
“Always was. Just turned out a bit differently than expected.”
Louis couldn’t for the life of him follow what Harry was saying. Instead of an explanation, Harry just grabbed him tighter and pulled him in closer. Louis felt the tickle of breath on his ear before he heard the rumble of Harry’s voice low and needy.
“Can’t have your ‘fuck me’ outfit go to waste, now can we?”
(They didn’t. Louis let Harry strip him of the cranberry shirt the way he so often wished Harry would ever since he unwrapped it all those months ago. In the morning, Louis presented Harry with breakfast telling him he was egg-cellent and later at Neil’s, Harry handed Louis his favorite chai drink with a kiss to the cheek and a “ I love you a latte .”)
(Five years later, when Louis got down on one knee during breakfast and asked Harry to spend forever together, Harry replied by picking up a pastry saying “You donut know how long I’ve waited for you to ask!”)
(A year after that, Liam showed up to the rehearsal dinner in Costa Rica wearing a resort gift shop “Resting Beach Face” t-shirt and Harry knew he had picked the right best man.)
(Fifteen years after that, Harry opened up the fridge to be met with a post-it on a giant carton of mushrooms that said nothing other than “Happy Father’s day! Thanks for being such fungi!” while Louis opened the cabinet to find a matching post-it on a new box of Yorkshire that said “Happy Father’s day. Thanks for being tea-riffic!)
(On their 30th wedding anniversary, they both accidentally got each other the same card featuring a banana that said “After all this time, you’re still a- peel -ing to me!”)
(It truly was a pun -derful life.)