Archive of Our Own ^beta

            PART ONE

Prologue

In all the years they’d been best friends, Louis had never yelled at Harry quite like this. His broken voice rang out behind Harry, and even with his back turned, he could hear the sadness hiding behind the anger.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!”

Harry stopped, tears gathering in his eyes even as he did his best to blink them back. He sucked in a shallow breath and turned around with steely eyes to meet Louis’ gaze. Louis looked broken, and if Harry didn’t know any better, he’d almost believe it. As it was, he forced himself to ignore the pain in best friend’s expression and responded, voice monotone.

“I’m tired of waiting. Don’t you get it? I can’t do this anymore.” Harry forced the words out, his shoulders sagging below the weight of his admission. Louis’ mouth opened, his lips parted softly as he gathered his thoughts.

“Do what, exactly? Love me?”

Even though he knew it didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, Harry hated himself for what he had to say next.

“I never loved you.”

Louis’ wide blue eyes shattered, and Harry could practically feel his own heart breaking. Louis gasped, knees buckling, as he stared at Harry. He let out a single shuddering sob and Harry was so tempted to run over to him, couldn’t bear to watch Louis cry again when suddenly –

“Cut! That’s a wrap on 109. Good job everyone.”

– The stage lights flickered on and Harry blinked the stars out of his eyes.

The director motioned from behind the camera for the crew to start striking the set, and Harry ambled out of the way as the team started to dismantle the sound stage around him.

One of the production assistants ran over and handed him a water bottle, and Harry twisted the lid off, chugging as much of it as he could in one gulp.

Being on set all day always made him thirsty, and today was no exception as his scenes with Louis had been particularly emotionally charged.

Harry was used to long hours of shooting the same thing over and over again, but there was something about watching Louis fall apart – even though he knew it was all an act, knew it was nothing more than the grown up version of playing pretend – that took its toll on him.

Louis, for his part, didn’t seem to be similarly affected. Harry spotted him lying on the ground in the same spot as he’d ended the scene a moment earlier, giggling to himself.

Harry rolled his eyes and walked towards his best friend, hovering over him so Louis was suddenly bathed in shadow.

“Stop lurking like that, you menace,” Louis muttered in mock annoyance.

Harry grinned and dropped to sit on top of Louis instead, ignoring the squawking sound he made when Harry’s arse landed on his thighs.

“Better?” Harry inquired, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Louis sighed in exasperation but didn’t move to push Harry away, instead choosing to poke him in the dimple.

“You have a bony bum, anyone ever tell you that?”

Harry let out an indignant “Heeeey!” and stood up, pretending to be offended. “Not all of us are as blessed as you in that department, Lou.”

Louis had the audacity to wink at him, the bastard, before grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling himself up into a standing position.

Louis stared at the crew as they struck the sets, the sound stage already looking notably emptier than it had a few minutes ago.

“So I’d say that went well.”

Harry looked at him curiously, confused by the abrupt subject change.

“The scene we just filmed, Haz. Honestly, keep up.” Louis was teasing him, but Harry couldn’t stop himself from shoving him lightly, taking his time answering.

“Yeah, I think so. You looked properly devastated.” Harry fought to keep his voice light, and based on Louis’ lack of reaction figured he’d done a pretty good job of it.

Louis grabbed Harry round the waist and tugged him closer. “’S just acting, love. Besides, I know you’d never hurt me.”

Harry rolled his eyes fondly, but couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his gut that always came with keeping something from Louis.

***

Louis and Harry had been best friends since they were 13 and 15 and Louis had plunked his tray down in the seat next to the younger boy after spotting him sitting alone at lunch. After Harry had recovered from the shock, he’d realized he quite liked the boy with the sparkling blue eyes and soft brown hair, and from that moment on they’d become a unit – LouisandHarry rather than Just Louis or Just Harry.

It came to the surprise of absolutely no one that they both chose to move to London the second they were out of school, with Louis working to save up money while Harry finished with his GCSE’s. Louis was dead set on becoming on becoming an actor, and while Harry himself didn’t harbour any particular desires for stardom, he knew he wanted to do something big with his life, something important – so the entertainment business it was for both of them.

They’d spent their first year splitting the rent on a flat in the suburbs just outside of London, Harry taking odd jobs here and there while Louis went on audition after audition. It was hard, but they were happy, and eventually they’d earned enough to move to a place in London proper.

They’d both managed to land roles on an upcoming destined-to-be-insanely-popular teen drama series through a fortuitous mixture of talent and luck after one of Harry’s customers had tipped him off about the open auditions taking place down the street from the bakery Harry worked at.

The casting agents had been floored by Louis and Harry’s natural chemistry, and within a few weeks they’d gone from scrounging to pay rent to moving into a new flat five minutes away from the studio.

Harry looked down at Louis’ arm encircling his waist as they headed towards the break room, felt the warmth emanating from the beautiful boy beside him, and couldn’t suppress the wide grin stretching across his face.

They’d actually done it. They’d made it out of their small northern town and into the sprawling London streets without burning out or giving up. And best of all – they’d done it together.

                                                                            ____________________________________________________

Louis was terrible at remembering to take care of himself when he was working, he knew that, and so the loud growl that erupted from his stomach the moment he smelled the catering at craft service only served to remind him that he hadn’t eaten anything since six that morning.

Harry turned to him with a small frown on his face. “Lou, when’s the last time you had something to eat?”

Louis squinted, wondering if it was worth trying to lie. Harry knew him too well, though, and Louis knew he’d never get away with it.

“Haz, it’s fine. Promise.”

“Lou, you know I’m just trying to look out for –”

Louis’ salvation came in the form of his other-best-friend-slash-kind-of-ex-boyfriend-slash-all-around-angelic-human-being Zayn Malik. Who was holding not one, but two steaming cups of tea. And a muffin. Blueberry to be exact. Also known as Louis’ favourite.

“Malik, you are a god amongst men.” Louis beamed, rushing forward to grab the cup and the muffin that Zayn held out to him.

“I know how you get, Lou. You’re going to wither away and die if you keep neglecting to feed yourself. Just trying to save casting from having to wrangle up a new series lead.”

“Hey!” Harry muttered, a genuine pout on his face. Louis softened and hip-checked his best friend, careful not to spill his tea on either of them.

“Zayn didn’t mean it, Hazza. He knows you’re just as much the lead as I am.”

Harry’s pout somehow managed to deepen. “You know that’s not the part of the sentence I was objecting to, Lou. We’re allowed to worry about you. ”

Louis rolled his eyes, tired of having the same conversation over and over again. “Guys, please, I’m fine. Promise. I just get really emotionally invested in the scenes, sometimes, and it’s hard to stay focused on anything outside of that. I’m like Daniel Day Lewis, only gayer and not actually willing to build a log cabin from scratch.”

Zayn shot him a confused look as Harry muttered to himself about Louis not actually being able to build a log cabin period.

“And you call yourself an actor.” Louis shook his head at Zayn’s lack of knowledge when it came to somewhat obscure pop culture references.

“Never you mind. The point is, I get quite method sometimes and it affects other parts of my life. I know it’s probably not, like, healthy, or whatever, but it works. This is the last scene until the break, anyhow. You’ve got plenty of time to fatten me up over the next month and a half.”

Zayn just stared at Louis for a long moment before turning to Harry.

“Louis’ inane rambling reminded me why I came over here in the first place. Travis wants to talk to you.”

Louis tried not to be offended that feeding him hadn’t actually been Zayn’s first priority as his curiosity took over.

“Bout what?” Louis inquired. Travis was one of the show’s producers, and he only spoke to the actors when it was about something really important.

Zayn shrugged. “Dunno. Director just asked me to pass the message along.”

Harry bit his lip, a tell tale sign (at least to Louis) that he was nervous and doing his best not to show it. Louis took Harry’s hand in his and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

“It’ll be fine, Haz. He probably just wants to congratulate you on the scene today. You’re actually rather talented, if you weren’t already aware.”

Harry flushed, his grip tightening on Louis’ hand. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious. You’re good at what you do, H. Let yourself believe it once in a while, kay?”

Harry was obviously touched, and he pulled Louis into a giant and only slightly uncomfortable bear hug. Never one to hold in his feelings, Harry was quick to take the moment from silly to sentimental.

“I love you, Louis. Seriously,” he whispered into his ear. “You’re kind of the most important person in the world to me sometimes. A lot of the time.”

Louis felt his cheeks heat up, and he pinched Harry’s bum before the hug could be drawn out for much longer. He’d felt something stirring in his gut at Harry’s words, something entirely unfamiliar until the past few months, and he was worried about how his body might react if he didn’t end things quickly.

Harry had grown up a lot in the past year, becoming both broader and taller, and Louis would had to have been both blind and deaf not to notice how much deeper his already low voice was, or how his formerly gangly limbs were toned and muscular in a way they’d never been when he was 17.

Harry had always been beautiful, but lately he’d blossomed into this tall, sexy, man and Louis was having trouble dealing with it. And so, it seemed, were his hormones.

“Love you too, Hazzababe. Now go dazzle Travis or do whatever it is you do to make everyone you’ve ever come into contact with fall madly in love with you.”

Harry’s smile faltered a bit at Louis’ words, but it was quickly replaced with a full-on grin.

“I’ll do my best.” He waved cheekily and bounded off towards the production office, his long legs swathed in jeans so tight Louis genuinely pondered how he managed to walk in them, let alone run.

He watched him disappear around the bend, and when he turned back Zayn had a curious expression on his face.

“What?”

Zayn merely shrugged, giving Louis a look.

Louis frowned, defensive. “I’m just worried about him, okay? You know how sensitive he is about stuff like this.”

Louis’ voice sounded pretty convincing even to himself, but he sensed that Zayn wasn’t buying it.

“Course, Lou. You know best. He’s your best mate.”

Louis’ shoulders slumped, the tension leaving them. “Yeah. He is.”

After a moment of silence, Zayn reached over and grabbed the muffin from Louis, taking a bite.

“Traitor! All that time spent moaning about my eating habits and then you nick the food right out of my hands!”

Zayn used his sleeve to wipe away the lingering crumbs and passed the muffin back to Louis, ignoring his completely valid complaints as per usual.

“You and Harry are coming out tonight, yeah? I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Louis sighed, biting back a witty comment about being unable to attend due to having starved to death. “Yeah, I guess. I know Haz wants to go, and we’re kind of obligated to meet your new boyfriend eventually.”

Zayn grinned at him, and his whole face lit up. It was kind of breathtaking actually. Zayn was easily one of the most attractive people Louis had ever met.

He could practically hear the choirs of angels singing in the background, and it was moments like these that he wondered how different his life would be if he and Zayn had managed to date for longer than a month before realizing they were better off as friends.

Unbidden, an image of Harry popped into Louis’ head and he felt his brain screech to a halt.

No, he would not entertain that thought. Just like he hadn’t let himself think about what Harry’s lips would feel like on his when they’d cuddled in front of the television the night before.

They were friends. Best friends.

Sure, Louis’ sudden and overwhelming sexual attraction to him was a tad inconvenient, but he’d work through it. He refused to make things awkward and ruin things with Harry. He couldn’t do that to him. He wouldn’t.

***

Louis ended up bumping into Harry on his way back towards their dressing rooms. He grinned, meaning to grab Harry by the elbow, but the closed-off look on Harry’s face stopped him.

“What’s up, Haz? Everything go okay?”

Harry turned to Louis, the somber expression startled off his face. “Yeah, no it’s fine Lou. Just boring contract stuff.”

Louis quirked an eyebrow. “Travis called you up to talk about contract stuff?”

“It’s nothing. Just leave it.” Harry flushed, refusing to make eye contact, and yeah that was odd.

Louis felt his stomach drop a bit. Harry never lied to him, never acted cagey like this. Despite the urge to poke and prod until he figured out the truth, Louis decided to let it go. For the moment, anyhow.

“So Zayn wants us to come out tonight and meet Liam. You’re still up for it, right?”

Harry gave Louis a crooked smile, seemingly back to normal. “Yeah, I can’t wait to watch you make him incredibly uncomfortable. If I know you at all, you’ve been saving up embarrassing Zayn stories for months now.”

Louis hipchecked Harry. “Not just stories, Harold. Pictures and videos too. Got ‘em all loaded up on my mobile and ready to go.”

Harry let out a snort. “I expect nothing less at this point.”

They were nearly at the studio door when Karen, Travis’ frazzled, ginger haired, and overworked assistant sprinted down the hall towards them, her hands waving about frantically.

“Louis! Harry!” She skittered to a stop behind them. “You need to head over to the production office. Head producer wants a word before you go. Zayn’s already up there.”

Louis turned to look at Harry, who in turn stared at his feet, actively avoiding Louis’ gaze.

He frowned, trying not to read too much into Harry’s odd behaviour, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened during his meeting with Travis earlier.

“Right. Okay. We’ll be right up.”

Karen gave them a quick smile, spinning around and running back down the hall, her hair flying behind her. Louis pitied her immensely. Being Travis’ personal assistant had to be anything but fun.

“Shall we head up, then Haz? Don’t want to keep Zayn waiting too long.”

Harry nodded, still keeping his eyes averted.

“Harry?” He looked up finally, his green eyes meeting Louis’ concerned blue ones.

Harry gave him a tiny smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m fine, Lou. Let’s just get this over with, yeah? It’s Friday. I wanna go home.”

Louis took Harry’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Me too, Hazzababe.”

***

When Louis and Harry entered the production offices, they spotted Zayn leaning against the wall, a cup of coffee in his hand as he scrolled through his mobile with a bored look on his face.

He gave them both a tiny nod and pocketed his phone.

“Any idea why we’re here?” Louis asked.

Zayn shrugged. “Nope. Karen practically lassoed me in here. I guess it’s something that came up last minute.”

Louis turned to Harry and elbowed him gently in the side.

“Hear that Haz? Zayn doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t.” Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t bother trying to hide the soft smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Louis turned back to Zayn. “They inside Travis’ office already?”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah. I figured I’d wait for you both and we could head in together though.”

Louis patted Zayn on the shoulder. “Good thinking Zaynie. Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Louis squared his shoulders and walked forward, Harry and Zayn falling into step behind him, as the three of them crossed the threshold into Travis’ office.

As soon as they entered the room, Louis knew this wasn’t going to be a regular, run-of-the-mill production meeting. For starters, Travis wasn’t even there.

Secondly, a man with impressively combed back hair and a rolex sat behind the desk, speaking into his mobile phone.

Louis and Harry exchanged a look, uncertain of the protocol, but ultimately followed Zayn’s lead and sat down in one of the three plush armchairs that faced the desk.

The man gave waved his hand in acknowledgment of their presence and gestured that he was wrapping up his call.

With a clipped, “I’ll call you back,” into the receiver, the man placed the phone on the desk in front of him and clasped his hands together, giving the three men in front of him a pointed once over.

“You’re shorter in person than I’d have thought,” the man directed at Louis after a moment, earning a surprised snort from Zayn and a look of indignation from Harry.

Louis, for his part, bit back a retort, suspecting – no, knowing – that this man was important, and that pissing him off with a sassy comment within five seconds of meeting him probably wasn’t the best course of action. He settled for a smile instead.

“Prettier too, I’m told.”

This time Harry let out a surprised laugh, shooting Louis a sideways grin. The man smiled, charmed, and the tension in the room eased considerably.

“Humble as well, I see.” Louis shrugged. “No, it’s good, I like confidence. It’ll come in handy on the tour too.”

The three of them stared at the man blankly.

“Tour?” Harry ventured, confused.

The man tapped his fingers on the desk. “I realize this wasn’t part of your initial contracts, boys, but an opportunity’s come up that I think you’ll be as enthusiastic about as we are.”

Louis and Harry locked eyes again, communicating silently before Louis turning back to the man.

“I’m sorry, what exactly is this about?” Louis asked, doing his best to soften his tone.

“I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I?” the man said abruptly. “My name is Richard Sewell, I’m the owner of XFACTOR productions.”

Harry’s eyes widened comically, and even Zayn looked stunned.

So this was him. Richard Sewell. The Richard Sewell. AKA one of the richest men in Britain. And also their boss. No, not just their boss. Their bosses’ boss, as even Travis answered to him. This was … well, to put it simply this was a big fucking deal.

Louis was the first to break the silence, standing up and extending his hand. “Lovely to meet you, Mr. Sewell.”

Richard laughed. “No need to be so formal, Louis. It was unconscionably rude of me not to introduce myself earlier.”

Louis returned to his seat as Harry and Zayn both stood up, Harry with a nervous bounce in his step, and Zayn with his normal lethargic pace. Only the slight shake in his hand belied his underlying nerves, and Louis doubted anyone outside of him and Harry would even have picked up on it.

“Good, now that we all know each other, I have a proposition for the three of you.”

Louis couldn’t help the smirk that danced on his lips. Based on the way Harry kept shooting him quick glances out of the corner of his eye, he knew his best friend was resisting a similar urge to laugh. It’s not that it sounded like the beginning of a bad porno, but …. no, that was exactly what it sounded like.

Zayn, mercifully, covered up their immaturity by speaking for the first time since he’d entered the room. “You said it wasn’t in our original contract. Should we be concerned about the terms?”

Richard gave Zayn an appreciative look. “I don’t think so, no, but I can see why you’d be apprehensive. I know you actor types get wary when the word ‘contract’ gets thrown around, but I think you’ll be pleased with what I have to suggest.”

Richard pulled a folder out of his bag and produced what appeared to be three concert tickets. He passed them out to Louis, Harry, and Zayn and then leaned back in his chair with a satisfied look.

“Ummmm…” Louis began, staring at the ticket stub in front of him, baffled. “What exactly does this have to do with our contracts?”

“Might I suggest reading the name of the main act?”

Louis looked down, letting himself properly take a look at the act printed on the ticket. His eyes skimmed across the text, and his heart stuttered. That couldn’t be … but … what? It seemed Harry was on the same wavelength.

“Our names are on the tickets,” Harry choked out, his eyes huge.

Richard clapped his hands together, evidently pleased by the emotional meltdown unfolding in front of him.

“My business partner and I were trying to think of an effective way to drum up publicity for the show while jointly sending you three out on a press tour, and we think we’ve found a happy medium.”

“You want us to sing. In front of people.” Zayn stated, voice monotone.

Richard quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t see the problem, it’s not any different from what you already do on the show. Your characters are in a band, we’re just taking this to the next level. We think it’d be the perfect way to build hype and enthusiasm for the show. Transmedia and all that. You three go out on tour, hit a few major cities across the UK, perform songs from the show, stop for a few interviews, and bam. You three are attractive, young, and talented. The girls’ll eat you right up.”

Harry and Louis smirked at each other. Richard rolled is eyes.

“And the boys too, of course,” he continued. “Look you don’t have to agree right now, but promise me you’ll think about it. The alternative is sending you out to do hours of boring interviews and press junkets for a month. At least this way you get to travel and perform and do minimal press. And ….”

Richard paused, watching the men in front of him carefully before continuting. “Casting agents will be impressed. Acting is one thing, but being able to sing and perform, credibly, in sold out venues? That’s something else entirely.”

Louis’s heartbeat spiked. Richard was right. This was an incredible opportunity. He loved performing, he really did, and more than that, he loved the thought of being spared endless hours of answering the same boring, inane questions over and over again in a traditional press junket.

He turned to glance at Harry, pleased to note the slight flush on his cheeks and the brightness in his eyes. Haz was in, he could tell already. That just left Zayn.

Zayn’s expression was blank, carefully controlled. He wasn’t giving anything away with Richard in the room. He was the logical one of the three of them, and more than that he was careful. He wouldn’t make any split second decisions. Louis was pretty sure he’d agree, though.

If Louis was a good singer, then Zayn was a god. His voice was almost offensively amazing, and it actually wasn’t fair to deprive people from getting to hear him live.

Richard watched them, evidently pleased by what he saw – at least, when it came to Louis and Harry.

He got up from the desk, handing them each a business card.

“I’ll give you the weekend to think about it. Give me a call Monday morning with your answer.”

And with that he swept out of the room, trailing expensive smelling cologne behind him.

Louis beamed at Harry, and Harry grinned back. He knew Harry was thinking the same thing he was. They’d convince Zayn somehow. This opportunity really was too incredible to pass up.

                                                                         ____________________________________________________

“Honestly Hazza, it’s not like you’re the one dating him. Just pick a bloody shirt already and let’s go!” Louis said, sprawled across the couch in their shared flat and trying not to sigh too loudly in exasperation.

They’d gotten home an hour ago, and Harry still hadn’t gotten dressed to go out so they could meet Zayn’s new boyfriend, who they had been reliably informed, was some fit bloke named Liam.

Harry stuck his head out of his room and glared at Louis. “It’s not that simple, Lou. We haven’t been out in ages. I don’t want to just wear something boring. It’s nice, you know, putting in some effort every once in a while.”

Louis rolled his eyes and sat up on the couch, pulling his feet up to tuck underneath his legs.

“Yeah, but it’s not like you normally dress like some horrendous slob. You always look good, H. You know that. I know that. Even bloody Liam knows that and he hasn’t even met you yet.”

Harry flushed at Louis’ words. “Alright fine. I just have to put on trousers but then I’m set.”

Louis hauled himself up off the couch and wandered over to Harry’s room, resting against the doorframe. Harry looked up at him in confusion.

“Just making sure you’re not planning on spending another 15 minutes we don’t have fixing your hair or something.”

Harry slipped out of his trackies and tugged on a pair of what Louis could only describe as offensively tight jeans. Louis consciously cast his eyes downwards, hating the way his cheeks flushed and burned at the sight of Harry’s bare legs, no matter how brief.

What was happening to him? He’d seen Harry naked loads of times. So why was the sight of him in nothing but his briefs suddenly affecting him so intensely?

Louis bit the inside of his cheek, and the sharp pain helped clear his head so he was reasonably positive his expression was back to normal by the time he looked up again.

Harry was staring at him with an amused smirk on his face. “You okay there, Lou?”

Like the five year old he was, Louis’ only response was to stick his tongue out.

“Just peachy, love. Now hurry up and slide your giant yeti feet into your stupid hipster boots so we actually stand a chance of getting there somewhat on time.”

Louis left the room before Harry could respond, smiling to himself as he heard Harry muttering indignantly about his boots being not-at-all-stupid-and-very-expensive-thank-you-very-much before he exited his room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

***

Zayn’s new boyfriend, as it turned out, was kind of awesome. Louis’ reckoned that if Zayn hadn’t already been half-way in love with him before, he certainly was after that night.

The four of them were sat in a booth of the bar down the street from Zayn’s flat, and after two hours and lord knows how many drinks, Louis was this close to proposing to Liam on Zayn’s behalf.

“So, Liam. Lee-yum. Lime.” Louis giggled, testing out a series of fun potential nicknames for future use. He had a thing about embarrassing Zayn whenever possible, and surely said propensity must naturally extend to the boys he dated.

Liam, bless him, looked at Louis with an amused smile. “Yes Lewis?” Louis cringed, ducking his head into Harry’s shoulder.

“No. I am the giver of nicknames. No one else. It’s Louis.” He paused for a moment, the tequila shot he’d consumed moments before fogging up his brain considerably. “Or Your Majesty. I’ll answer to either.”

Harry’s shoulders shook as he bit back a laugh, but he remained otherwise silent, awaiting Liam’s response.

“I think I’ll stick with Louis for now, if it’s alright with you.” Liam decided after a moment, and Zayn squeezed his hand in a thank-you-for-putting-up-with-my-stupid-friends gesture.

After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Louis remembered that he wanted to ask Liam something. “Right. Lima Bean. Tell me,” Louis pulled the decorative umbrella out of his drink and pointed it at Liam as threateningly as possible. “What are your intentions towards my Zaynie-pants? I’ll have you know I throw a mean right hook.”

Harry let out a proper snort of laughter while Zayn groaned, his hands coming up to cover his face. “Lou, do you even know what that means?”

Louis looked at Zayn with a shrug. “It’s just a punch, right? I can do that. I’ve seen Die Hard.”

For some reason, Harry found that particularly hysterical and doubled over with laughter. Zayn gave up on trying to reason with spectacularly tipsy Louis, turning to face his boyfriend instead.

“Li, please don’t judge me because of the friends I keep. They’re not normally this…” Zayn paused, trying to find the right word. After a strained moment, he gave up, evidently unable to land on something appropriate. Louis couldn’t blame him. He could barely remember how to spell his own name at the moment.

Liam, being the kind soul that he was, jumped in valiantly to try and salvage what was left of the group’s civility.

“So, boys, Zayn tells me you’re going on tour for the next month. That sounds exciting.”

It took a moment for Louis to process Liam’s words before the implication behind them worked its way to the front of his foggy brain.

“Wait, does this mean?” He looked at Zayn with wide eyes, and Zayn’s fond eyeroll was all he needs as confirmation.

“Did you hear that Hazzababe? Zayn’s in! We’re going to sing in front of, like, thousands of people every night! Like proper rock stars! WE’RE GOING ON BLOODY TOUR!” Louis threw himself into Harry’s arms, squirming in his lap with excitement like an oversized baby. He burrowed his face into Harry’s neck.

“We get to travel together, and sing together in front of loads of people, and not have to do stupid interviews,” he muttered against the column of Harry’s throat, too ecstatic to register the way Harry’s heartbeat had spiked.

Zayn coughed, but Louis ignored him, relishing in the feel of the warm skin of Harry’s neck against his face. It wasn’t until he realized that Harry hadn’t actually moved and wasn’t hugging him back that Louis realized something was wrong.

“Haz?” Louis looked up at Harry. His face was chalky and white, and his fists were clenched firmly by his sides. Louis moved off his lap gently, choosing instead to rest his hand against the side of his best friend’s face.

“Hazza? Are you okay? What do you need?”

Harry appeared to be stuck in some sort of closed-eyed, panicked state, far beyond answering as his breathing became more and more laboured. Luckily, Louis had dealt with Harry like this before. He’d started trembling, and Louis rubbed his hand up and down his arm, trying to ground him as he assembled a mental checklist of what needed to be done. Sobering up instantly, he turned to Liam and Zayn.

“Liam, I need you to get an ice water from the bar. Zayn, go call a cab for us,” Louis turned instantly back to Harry, cuddling him in close and carding a gentle hand through his hair as Liam and Zayn snapped to attention, instantly doing as Louis had asked.

“Babe, look at me.” Harry’s eyelids fluttered but remained closed. Louis kissed his cheek softly and stroked his curls back from his forehead.

“Hazza, I need for you to open your eyes and look at me, okay? Just one look, that’s all, then we’ll go home and tuck you into bed.”

Harry’s eyes slowly opened, the terrified look in them visible even in the dim lighting of the bar. “Lou?” he whispered softly, his voice breaking.

Louis pulled him into a tight hug, trying to cover as much of his body with his admittedly tinier frame as possible. “I’ve got you, Haz, I’ve got you. You’re safe, okay baby boy? I’ve got you.”

Harry sunk into Louis’ embrace, his eyes closing again as his breathing gradually returned to normal. Harry was having an anxiety attack, and while he didn’t have them often, Louis had sat through enough of them to recognize the signs and coax him through them.

The first time it had happened, Harry had been sixteen and about to audition for their school’s talent show. Louis had been sitting with him backstage, when Harry had suddenly frozen five minutes before he was supposed to go on, his breathing jagged and his face pale as a ghost.

Louis had been terrified, having no clue what to do, but luckily Gemma, Harry’s sister, had answered his panicked phone call, talking Louis through what he needed to do to make Harry feel grounded and safe again.

Harry had gotten better over the years at not reacting so strongly to stressful situations, but alcohol tended to worsen moments of emotional distress. So while he’d seemed fine in the meeting with Richard earlier, Harry was clearly not as okay with the idea of the tour as Louis had thought.

Oh well, that was a problem for another time. Right now, Louis had only one concern, and that was getting Harry home safely and in as little emotional distress as possible.

Zayn and Liam returned to the table quickly, Liam placing the cold water in front of Harry as Zayn gestured to the front door. “Cab’s here.”

Louis held the glass up to Harry’s mouth and made sure he took a sip. Harry was barely able to get anything down, but even the little bit he swallowed seemed to help. Louis reached into his wallet to pay his and Harry’s part of the tab, but Zayn put a hand out to stop him.

“Don’t worry about it, just get Haz home, okay?” Louis nodded gratefully, giving Zayn’s hand a thankful squeeze.

“Haz, we’re going to go home now, okay? Can you stand up for me?” Harry wobbled slightly but managed to pull himself up, clinging to Louis for support. “That’s perfect, babe. Just keep breathing for me.”

Once they were both standing, Harry buried his face in Louis’ neck, hunching over to accommodate their size difference. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry, guiding them both towards the exit with a silent, appreciative nod back at Zayn and Liam.

The breeze when they got outside the bar seemed to snap Harry out of it a bit, and he blinked against the cold, his face still nuzzled into Louis.

“I’m so tired, Lou.” He muttered, his voice even slower and more gravelly than usual.

“I know, babe. We’ll be home soon, okay?” Louis patted his hip gently, sliding them both into the backseat of the cab and giving the driver their address.

When they finally pulled up to their building, Harry was softly dozing, tucked into Louis’ side. Louis paid the fare and gently shepherded his best friend out of the cab and inside their complex.

By the time they made it up to their flat, Harry was barely functioning and utterly exhausted because of the energy expended during his panic attack. Louis knew the stages like the back of his hand, by now. Knew that Harry needed sleep, and cuddling, and so that was exactly what he was going to get.

He tugged Harry into his bedroom, laying him down on the bed and taking his boots off for him. Harry was already gone, making soft snuffling sounds against the pillow.

Louis tucked the blankets around him, shuffling to the other side of the bed and taking off his shoes before climbing in beside him, careful not to disrupt his boy. He tugged his jeans off and dropped them by the side of the bed, pulling Harry close and cuddling him like the big spoon he used to be before Harry grew bigger than him.

Sensing his presence even in sleep, Harry’s body relaxed, the tension draining out of his limbs as he sagged against Louis, his breathing evening out until he was completely peaceful. Louis kissed the back of Harry’s head, breathing in the light floral scent of his shampoo before quickly falling asleep himself, knowing the boy in his arms was finally safe.

***

The next morning, Louis woke up to a sleepy Harry curled around him, their limbs tangled together in a messy cuddle as his soft curls tickled the side of Louis’ face.

He couldn’t help the soft grin that spread across his face as Harry snored softly, his face more relaxed than he’d seen it in ages.

Louis grudgingly extracted himself from Harry, careful not to wake the sleeping boy as his bladder threatened to explode from all of the alcohol he’d tossed back the night before.

When he walked back into his room a few minutes later, bladder blissfully relieved, the sight of Harry curled up in his bed made him stop abruptly, his stomach flip flopping as he was hit with unexpected feelings of possessiveness and want.

He cared about Harry, obviously – he loved him more than almost anyone else in his life, bar his own family. And by this point, Harry pretty much was his family, all things considered. But Louis had never felt like this about his family. No, the want curling in his gut was the opposite of platonic, and to be honest, it terrified him.

Louis shook his head, pushing everything he was feeling down as deep as he could. He realized repression was probably not a healthy response to realizing he was likely in love with his best friend, but too bad. Now was really not the time for an existential crisis.

Deciding the best option for the moment was to flee the scene as quickly as possible, Louis slipped on his vans and ducked quietly out of the flat, a twenty-pound note tucked into his back pocket.

He returned twenty minutes later with a bag full of freshly baked scones and croissants in one hand and a tray with two steaming take-out cups of tea in the other.

He awkwardly managed to jiggle the door open with his bum and some serious ingenuity, setting the tea tray on the table and grabbing two plates from the kitchen for the pastries.

By the time the table was set, the smell of breakfast had awoken Harry, who trudged into the kitchen half-naked and yawning.

“Lou?” His voice was low and gravelly, and Louis felt something stir in his stomach again. He forced it back, focusing on how stupidly endearing Harry looked at the moment, his curls sticking up in the back and wearing nothing but Louis’ (slightly too small) track pants and only one sock.

“Hey Haz. Feeling any better?”

Harry yawned again, shaking his head. “No. I feel like something crawled inside my mouth and died there.”

Louis let out a laugh and picked up the second cup of tea, passing it to Harry with a grin.

“This should help. I picked up some breakfast-y things at the bakery down the road too, if you’re hungry.”

Harry’s eyes lit up at the word ‘breakfast’ and he eagerly shuffled over to the bag on the table, closing his eyes and reverently inhaling the scent of the freshly baked bread inside. He plucked out a croissant and took a bite, groaning blissfully.

“I love you. Oh my god, this is delicious.” Louis tried not to flush too obviously with pleasure, his cheeks going warm.

“Well, after inadvertently sending you into a anxiety attack last night, I figured it was the least I could do.”

Harry blushed at Louis’ words, a slight furrow appearing between his eyebrows. “Right, sorry about that.”

Louis rolled his eyes and strode over to Harry, pulling him into a hug. “I was the one who was supposed to be apologizing, you dolt. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Harry bit his lip. “My freak-out ruined your night out, Lou. Yours and Zayn’s and Liam’s. Just cause I couldn’t – ”

“Harry, stop it, okay? You absolutely do not have any reason to feel bad about last night. Going on tour, singing in front of hundreds of people every night, that’s a big deal.”

“But – ”

“No buts! You’re entitled to your feelings, Haz. I love you, okay, and Zayn loves you, and we only want to do this tour if you’re one hundred percent comfortable with it. I’m not interested if you’re not happy.”

Harry ducked his head, cheeks flushed, but Louis put a hand under his chin and gently gestured for him to make eye contact. “Look at me, babe.” Harry finally met his eyes.

“I meant what I said. Every word.”

Harry beamed at him, his eyes bursting with light, and Louis felt his heart hammer in his chest. He couldn’t deny it any longer, not even to himself. He loved Harry. He was truly, properly in love with him. Shit.

Harry pulled Louis into a hug, his yeti arms quite literally sweeping him off his feet, oblivious to Louis’ panicked internal monologue. He loved Harry. He loved Harry. God this was going to ruin everything.

Their friendship was the most important relationship he’d ever had, and yeah, Louis had dated before, but it was always casual, and it never really mattered to him, not like Harry mattered. Fuck. Harry. What was he going to tell Harry?

As if on cue, Harry finally released Louis, pulling him over to their tiny couch in the living room and plopping him down on the seat next to him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lou, honestly. You always know how to make me feel better.”

Harry snuggled contentedly into Louis’ side, small smile lingering on his face, and Louis made his decision in that moment. He couldn’t ruin their friendship by making things awkward. He wouldn’t.

He’d keep his feelings to himself and act like nothing had changed. And hopefully, as time went by, he’d learn how to deal with it. But for right now, the only thing that mattered was that Harry was okay.

The boy in question was currently humming softly to himself, wrapped around Louis like a clingy kitten.

“You good?” Louis asked him.

Harry nodded against Louis’ neck. “Yeah Lou. Really good.” He paused for a moment, as if weighing his words. “I think …. I think I want to try.”

“Try what, Hazzababe?”

Harry giggled at the nickname, like the over-sized child he was. “Going on tour. I think I want to try it.” Louis’s hand stilled where it had been petting up and down Harry’s side. “You sure? You don’t have to make a decision now, you know. I don’t want you to rush into anything.”

Harry shook his head. “I know. And I appreciate that you’re worried about me. But this is an amazing opportunity, and quite frankly, it’s something I’ve always dreamed about doing but never thought I’d actually get a chance to. I can’t let fear stand in the way of doing something I want. I need to do this for me.”

He paused, letting his eyes meet Louis’. “I know how much you want this too, Lou, and I know you’d turn it down if I asked. But that’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to Zayn. I want this for all of us. And yeah, there may be a few hiccups along the way, but I’ll deal with them. Cause I have you.”

Louis swallowed, his heart in his throat. He was so proud of him for taking on his fears even thought he’d had a literal panic attack about them the night before.

“You’re incredible, Haz. Never forget that, okay?”

Harry rested his forehead against Louis’. “You’re not so bad either,” he muttered, a smile in his voice, and Louis let himself feel the full depth of his love for Harry for a brief, loaded moment before shoving his feelings into the box he’d labeled ‘do not open’ in the back of his mind and pulling away from Harry.

“This calls for a celebration, if I say so myself. We need cake. And wine. And more cake. And we should probably call Richard and let him know we’ve agreed.”

Harry bounced up off the couch, hangover forgotten, and grabbed his cell phone. “I’ll call Zayn and tell him to bring Liam over! I’m baking a pie!”

Harry ran into the kitchen, already dialing Zayn’s number leaving Louis stood in the middle of the living room, staring after him.

***

By the time Monday rolled around, Harry was completely set in his decision about going on tour. They’d called Richard the night before and confirmed the schedule with him, deciding that leaving in two weeks worked best for both the actors and the production staff.

In the meantime, Harry, Louis and Zayn were given some time off to prepare for being away for the tour.

The last thing they had to do before they were completely free was come by the studio offices to meet the production staff who would be accompanying them on tour, and to sign their new contracts.

Louis and Harry met Zayn outside of the studio early that morning, Louis clutching a take-away mug of Yorkshire tea between his hands and looking vaguely like Gollum from the Lord of the Rings.

“It’s too early for this.” He grumbled, taking a long sip. Harry bumped his hip lightly, laughing when Louis hissed at him.

“It’s the last day we have to be at work for the next two weeks, Lou. You can have a nice long nap when we get back.” Ah yes, napping. That was far too appealing a thought considering Louis wouldn’t actually be able to put said plan into action for another six hours. He yawned in lieu of responding, barely catching Zayn’s fond eyeroll.

“How are you even functioning right now? You’re even less of a morning person than I am, Z.”

Zayn shrugged, adjusting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. “Who says I slept last night?”

Louis gagged as Harry giggled. “It’s also too early for me to be hearing about your sex life, good GOD.” He mumbled, taking another long swig of tea.

Before their depraved conversation could continue, the heavy studio door swung open to reveal Karen, a harried look on her face and a clipboard tucked under one arm.

“Alright boys, they’re expecting you in studio C. There’s tea and coffee all set up, though I guess some of you already have that covered,” she finished, with a pointed nod to Louis.

They scurried past Karen through the main doors and down the hall to Studio C, where a small group had gathered around a table set up in the middle of the room. Off to the side, there was indeed an assortment of scones and muffins as well as a coffee machine and a kettle.

Louis threw back the last bitter dregs of his tea and immediately went to make himself a new cup. He heard Harry laugh at him, but he didn’t try to stop him, which Louis counted as a win.

He reached for the basket full of tea bags at the same time as another man, and their hands bumped awkwardly in mid-air.

“Sorry mate, I was just – ” Louis stopped off mid-sentence after making eye contact with the tall, gorgeous stranger standing next to him.

The man grinned, ducking his head a bit in what endearingly seemed to be shyness. “No need to apologize, it’s just tea.”

Louis stared at him in mock horror. “Just tea! How dare you? Let me guess, you’re one of those heathens who thinks coffee is a suitable substitute.”

The man had the decency to look abashed. “Sometimes the caffeine in tea just isn’t enough…”

Louis shook his head, feigning disappointment. “I had such high hopes for you.”

The man burst out laughing, and Louis couldn’t help but grin back at him.

“You’re Louis Tomlinson, right?” He asked after collecting himself.

Louis nodded. “That would be me. You must be a member of the production staff that’s coming on tour with us, then?”

The man stuck out his hand. “Greg James. I’m the line producer. I’ll be acting as the liaison between the people on tour and the producers back here.”

Louis smiled. “Well then, nice to meet you Greg. I hope the tour is as exciting for you as it is for us. Speaking of which…”

Louis craned his neck to look for Harry and Zayn. He spotted Zayn leaning against a wall, looking bored, but Harry appeared to have vanished. Louis shrugged.

“The supermodel texting on his phone is Zayn, but I’m not sure where Haz is. You’ll love him though, everyone does.”

Greg picked up his mug. “I look forward to meeting them both.”

They made their way over to the centre of the room, where Karen stood flicking through a stack of papers. “Louis, great, I need you to come sign some paperwork.”

Louis gave Greg a brief wave goodbye and walked over to Karen. She handed him a veritable stack of contracts and gestured towards the other side of the room.

“Go join Harry, he’ll show you where to sign.”

Louis looked up to see Harry standing next to Zayn, his face uncharacteristically blank as his eyes met Louis’. Louis frowned but did as he was told, heading towards both of his friends.

“You okay, H?” Harry shrugged, his face still blank. Louis wanted to put his arm around him but something in Harry’s stance kept him back. “Uh, Karen said you could help me with paperwork stuff?”

Harry handed him his own stack of papers. “Just sign in the same places as I did. It’s just a basic contract extension – same rules as before, but now they apply to touring. Our lawyers already looked over them so we’re good to go.”

Louis frowned, not liking the slightly cold tone of Harry’s voice. “I’m sure it’s fine. You sure everything’s okay, Haz?”

Zayn coughed pointedly, his eyes still glued to his phone. “Just drop it, Lou. Hurry up and sign so we can leave.”

Louis bit back a retort, taking Harry’s paperwork from him and mirroring all the places he signed on his own.

When he was finished, he handed it back to Karen and the three of them headed out the main doors. Greg met Louis’ eyes on the way out and gave him a polite nod. Louis grinned back, noticing Harry watching them both out of the corner of his eye.

Once they were back outside the studio, they waved Zayn off and Harry and Louis quietly walked over to Louis’ car in the parking lot. Harry had barely said a word to him since they’d left, and Louis was getting worried.

He put the keys in the ignition but paused, letting them hang there rather than turning the engine on. Something was off between them, and he needed to fix it.

“Hey Haz? Please talk to me.” Harry sighed, looking out the window.

“We’re not going anywhere until you answer me.”

Harry rolled his eyes but still didn’t say anything.

Louis shrugged. “Alright then. I guess I’ll take that nap now rather than later.” Louis grabbed the fleece blanket he kept on the back seat and folded it up into what vaguely resembled a pillow. He leaned his chair back, folding himself up until he was comfortable.

Harry watched it all unfold in stubborn silence, but when Louis started to fake snore he couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Louis beamed at him.

“I don’t like it when you’re upset, H. It makes me upset.”

Harry bit his lip, twisting his ring on his finger before deciding to talk. “When Travis called me into his office the other day, it had to do with the tour.”

Louis stilled, waiting for Harry to continue.

“He didn’t give me the specific details, but he let me know that they had something in mind involving our characters’ relationships to each other, and that he wanted to use that during promo.”

Harry paused, still not meeting Louis’ gaze. “He said we have good chemistry, and that it’d be a shame to let it go to waste when it could really help hype up the show and bring in even more money.”

Harry sighed, finally locking eyes with Louis. “He wants to monetize our relationship, Lou. He wants us to play it up on tour, make people wonder and whisper and gossip about us. He wants to take what we have and cheapen it, and I’m not okay with that.”

Louis frowned, reaching a hand out for Harry to take.

“Hazzababe, why didn’t you say something earlier? This must have been eating at you all weekend.”

“Because I thought I could just ignore it. If I didn’t say anything then maybe it wouldn’t matter. But then I was reading through the contract and I got to the appearances clause and I realized how much control they already have over us.”

He peered at Louis, tears pooling in his eyes. “I don’t want them to monetize our friendship, Lou. What we have is ours, not theirs to profit off of.”

Louis reached over the seat and pulled Harry into a hug, running his hands up and down his back comfortingly. “Then we won’t let them. Simple as that, okay? Those bastards can push all they want, but at the end of the day they’re not entitled to anything.”

Louis pulled back to meet Harry’s eyes. “They don’t know anything about us, not really. Let’s keep it that way.”

Harry smiled softly, and all of the tension he’d been carrying drained out of his body.

“I’m sorry I was acting like a child, Lou. I just … I didn’t know if you’d think I was overreacting or something.”

Louis squeezed his hand. “Never, Haz. I’m always on your side. Always.”

Louis moved back to the driver’s side, adjusting his seat and clicking his seatbelt back on. “Well, now that that’s sorted. I have an idea.”

“Oh yeah? Care to elaborate?”

“We have two weeks before tour starts, right? So why not make the most of it. Let’s go home.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing now.”

“No, home home. Let’s go up north and visit our families.”

Harry’s whole face lit up. “You want to go to Holmes Chapel?”

“And Donny. But yeah, let’s visit our mums. It’s been a while since we’ve been back.”

Harry veritably bounced up and down in his seat. “Lou, that’s an amazing idea! God, why didn’t I think of it?” He leaned over to kiss Louis on the cheek, still grinning from cheek to cheek.

Louis laughed. “Alright, I say we’ve spent enough time in this parking lot for the time being. And I still want that nap!”

Harry giggled and reached over the middle divider, turning the keys in the ignition before Louis had a chance to.

“We’re going home!” he exclaimed, and for once Louis didn’t bother trying to hide the fondness in his eyes.

                                                                               ____________________________________________________

The three hour drive up north wasn’t as dull as it would have been had Louis gone alone, and that was mainly due to Harry’s insistence that they play nothing but Madonna’s Greatest Hits nearly the whole way there.

After the third time hearing Harry wail his way through, “Like a Virgin” in the same style as the Duke from Moulin Rouge, though, Louis had had enough. He yanked out the auxiliary cord attaching Harry’s ipod to the dashboard console, breathing in relief at the sudden silence as Harry abruptly stopped mid-verse.

“Heeeeeyyyy,” he began, but Louis reached over blindly to clamp the hand that wasn’t holding the steering wheel over his mouth.

“No. Enough. I’ve indulged you for too long. If I have to listen to one more bloody Madonna song I’m going to throw your ipod out the window and run it over.” Harry paused, clearly taking the threat in Louis’ words seriously.

“I’ve got other stuff on my iPod, too, you know – ”

“I refuse to listen to one more of your hipster bands named after some obscure flower that only grows in the Pacific Northwest. Radio – I get to pick the station – or nothing. Your choice.”

Louis smiled smugly, knowing Harry would choose Jason Derulo or Pitbull over no music at all, no matter how much of a stubborn hipster shit he was.

It was to Louis’ extreme surprise, then, that Harry powered down the car stereo with a tiny smirk, reveling in the silence.

“You’re right, Lou. Quiet is good.” Louis bit back a growl and kept both hands firmly on the wheel. He would not give in to Harry. He was better than that, nay, stronger than that. They still had an hour left of the drive. No way would Harry survive without music.

But rather than acting fidgety and bored like Louis had expected, Harry seemed content to just watch Louis drive, his own hands sitting still in his lap.

“You know,” Harry started after a long moment of silence, “Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like.” He paused again, his fingers plucking at the hem of his shirt as he considered his words.

“Like, imagine none of this London stuff had happened.” He continued in his low drawl, a contemplative expression on his face. “Imagine you’d never wanted to be an actor, but like, a teacher or something. And I’d have been a baker or a lawyer or something boring like that. And we lived the rest of our lives in the same place we grew up, never going further than a few kilometers from our homes.”

Louis wondered why Harry was choosing to bring this up now, but he supposed coming home after successfully establishing yourself in one of the toughest-to-crack cities in the world was reason enough to reflect on what could have been.

Louis picked up the thread of where Harry had left off, anticipating where his mind was going. “And now we’re going on tour, promoting the guaranteed-to-be-a-hit TV show we’re both lucky enough to work on together, and you’re wondering if maybe you made a mistake.”

Harry’s eyes practically bugged out of his head in panic. “No, Lou, not at all. I don’t think any of this was a mistake.”

Louis laughed fondly at Harry’s expression. “I know, Haz, I was mostly teasing. I get what you’re saying, though. It’s hard sometimes, not to wonder what might’ve been if things hadn’t worked out for us the way they did.”

He lifted his eyes from the road for a moment to meet Harry’s. “I have a feeling that no matter what other paths we could have chosen though, we’d still be together somehow.”

He saw Harry’s eyes brighten before he turned his gaze back to the road in front on them. “You think?”

Louis reached out a hand to squeeze Harry’s. “I do, yeah. It’s fate, innit. You and me.”

Harry grinned, his smile so wide Louis reckoned it could be seen from outer space. “Fate,” he repeated, voice soft. “Yeah, I quite like the thought of that.”

Louis rolled his eyes fondly and reattached Harry’s iPod. “Alright, enough silence. You’ve worn me down, Styles. Put whatever hipster claptrap on you want, I promise not to complain too much.”

Harry stuck his tongue out at Louis. “Just for that I’m putting on the Les Miserables soundrack.”

Louis sighed, his voice laced with fond exasperation. “Of course you’d have the bloody Les Mis soundtrack on your iPod. At least tell me it’s from one of the theatrical productions.”

Harry giggled. “Nope. Prepare yourself for an hour of Russell Crowe bleating out ‘Stars’ over and over again.”

Louis leaned his head against the steering wheel for a quick second. “Knew I should’ve brought Zayn instead.”

Harry’s delighted cackle was the last thing Louis heard before Russell Crowe’s dubious take on Javert took over his car’s stereo system.

***

“Harry! Louis! Mind the cat!”

Louis tripped dramatically over the fleeing black and white blob that bolted out the front door the moment they’d pushed it open, toppling forwards into Harry’s back with a soft ‘oof’ sound.

Harry steadied Louis, laughing as the door slammed shut behind them. Anne appeared in the front hallway, her hair haphazardly shoved into a ponytail and an apologetic look on her face.

“Boys, welcome home. Sorry about Dusty. Little rascal clearly wasn’t in the mood to have his nails cut today.”

Louis straightened, gently shrugging Harry’s hands off him and walking forward to pull Anne into a massive hug.

“It’s lovely to see you, Louis. It’s been far too long.” She murmured, squeezing him tight. Louis nodded against her neck, his eyes squeezed tight. It really had been too long. Anne was practically his second mother, and he had missed her almost as much as he did Jay.

“It definitely has,” he muttered, giving her a final squeeze before stepping aside to let Harry through. “I’ve been hogging you long enough. Hazza looks like he needs a hug too.”

Anne laughed, patting Louis’ shoulder and reaching for her son, who shuffled forward grumbling about her loving Louis better. Anne pinched his cheek. “You know how much I love you, baby boy.” Harry flushed, pleased, as Louis smiled, watching from the sidelines.

“Alright boys, you must be hungry after the drive. Help yourselves to whatever you find in the kitchen for now, I’ll run out to Tesco’s later and grab a chicken for dinner.”

Anne ruffled Harry’s hair on her way out of the room, laughing at the grumpy kitten look on his face as she left.

“Mum mentioned something about freshly-baked scones on the phone earlier, interested?” Harry asked. Louis began to nod when a loud and unexpected yawn erupted from his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a ‘maybe later’, then,” Harry giggled as Louis clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah, I think a nap’s in order for me. You won’t mind too much if I crash in your room for a bit, will you H?”

Harry grinned at him. “Not at all. I’ll go hang out with mum for a bit while you recover from the drive up.”

Louis gave him a sleepy grin and shuffled up the stars, collapsing in a boneless heap on Harry’s bed, too exhausted to bother shutting the door properly.

Louis was half-conscious when he heard soft footsteps padding towards him some indeterminate amount of time later, followed by the gentle pressure of blanket being draped over his body.

He felt warm as Harry kissed his forehead softly, trying not to wake him, and then he heard a hushed click as he shut the door quietly behind him.

***

Louis awoke an hour later to the sounds of Harry and Anne speaking in hushed voices. He stirred, rubbing sleepily at his eyes and pushing the blanket off his shoulders as he moved his body into a sitting position, processing what Anne was saying to Harry.

“Are you sure, H? I feel like maybe something’s changed since the last time.”

“No. I feel like, maybe, sometimes, but...” Harry paused, his voice despondent, and Louis fought the urge to burst into Anne’s room and hug him, manners be damned.

“No.” he said, a firm finality in his voice. “And I don’t think it ever will. Not if it’s been this long.” He heard the covers on the bed rustle as Anne pulled her son into a hug.

Harry’s sadness sounded as though it had seeped deep into his bones, and Louis wondered desperately what had caused it, why he’d never noticed that something was wrong. He wanted to know what was bothering Harry more than anything, but he knew it wasn’t his place to interrupt.

After what seemed like a polite amount of time, Louis “awoke” officially, yawning loudly so he could be heard from the other room, and ambled into the hallway towards Anne’s bedroom.

By the time he’d reached the doorframe, their conversation had already ended and Louis spotted Harry cuddled up next to his mother, her arm wrapped around his shoulders holding him close.

“You feeling well-rested?” she asked Louis as Harry uncharacteristically kept his eyes downcast.

Louis shuffled forward, dragging his socked feet over the carpet until he was standing in the room.

“Much better, thanks Anne.” He perched on the edge of the bed, running a hand over Harry’s ankle. “Everything okay, Haz?”

Harry up at him with a small smile, and though it didn’t quite meet his eyes, it was better than nothing, and Louis took that as a sign. Louis launched himself on the bed, tackling Harry and causing him to let out a startled peal of laughter.

“Stop it Lou! You’re going to make me elbow mum by accident.” Harry forced out, a massive grin on his face.

Anne laughed too, obviously not too put off by Louis’ antics, and stood up, leaving the boys sprawled out together on the bed.

“Dinner will be ready in 15, you miscreants. Try to pull yourselves together before then, yeah?”

“No promises!” Harry called out, dimpling at Louis as he answered.

***

They arrived at Louis’ mum’s house the next morning to much fanfare as Harry was swarmed by Louis’ sisters the moment they stepped inside.

“Harry! It’s been ages!” Phoebe exclaimed.

“We missed you!” Daisy chimed in, hugging his leg.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Louis muttered as Harry shrugged at him.

Fizzy and Lottie ambled into the room a moment later, evidently too old and too cool to flock to Harry and Louis like the twins had.

“Louis, you’re a dildo. Hey Haz.”

Louis’ mouth dropped open and Harry let out a loud laugh at Fizzy’s words. It really had been a while since he’d been home, apparently.

“Wha-?” Louis began before Fizzy dropped all pretenses and pulled her older brother into a hug. “You promised you’d be home weeks ago, you loser.”

Louis didn’t bother denying it, knowing she was right and that he was shitty at visiting when he said he would.

“I’m sorry, Fiz. It’s just been insane with filming and things. I lost track of time.”

Lottie, who had been chatting with Harry in the interim, turned her full attention on Louis.

“That’s a piss poor excuse and you know it. Mum says Harry’s been home, like, three times since the last time you were here, and he’s as much a film star as you are.” Harry flushed, despite having been dragged into the conversation against his will.

“Yeah but Harry doesn’t have four annoying sisters bugging him every time he steps through the door.” Louis countered with, knowing even as he said that it was a weak rebuttal.

“Five. You forgot Doris.” Daisy piped up, looking sad on her youngest sister’s behalf.

Louis crouched down a bit to make eye contact with her. “Nah, love, I could never forget your baby sister. She’s just too little to bug me like you munchkins do.” And with that, he started tickling her, grinning as she squeaked.

“Oi! Leave your sisters alone, Louis.” Jay appeared a moment later, a massive grin on her face as she took in the scene in the front hall.

“Lovely to see you again, Harry. I trust your mum’s doing well?”

Harry beamed back at her. “She’s doing great, yeah. She wants to have you over for tea again next week.”

Jay nodded, a pleased look on her face. “I’ll ring her tomorrow and get it sorted. For the moment, though, I’d like you girls to help set the table while Louis and Harry unpack upstairs.”

Daisy and Phoebe bounded towards the kitchen while Lottie and Fizzy exchanged a look, rolling their eyes but going to help nonetheless.

When it was finally just the three of them, Jay pulled Louis and Harry into a group hug, pressing a kiss on both of their foreheads.

“It really has been too long, boys. You know how much we miss having you ‘round.”

Rather than leaving Louis to stew in his guilt for too much longer, though, Jay pinched his bum cheekily. “Alright, upstairs with you both to get cleaned up. A change of clothes’ll do you good.”

Harry trailed up the stairs after Louis, a grin permanently etched on his face. When they made it to his room, Louis flopped on the bed, staring up at ceiling.

“My family is exhausting.”

Harry lay next to him, grabbing Louis’ hands and threading their fingers together. “Your family is lovely, Lou. Seriously.”

Louis turned to look at him. “You’re just saying that cause they like you better.”

Harry blushed, his dimples returning in full force. “Maybe just a little.”

They both burst into laughter, and Louis felt that tugging feeling in his gut again. Whatever this was, this thing he felt for Harry, it was only getting stronger. What to do with that information, however, Louis hadn’t a clue.

                                                                                                         PART TWO

On the night of their first gig in Bristol, Harry threw up backstage twice. Unlike the last time, both he and Louis had been prepared for the worst, and Louis rubbed a comforting hand up and down Harry’s back as he retched into the toilet while Zayn looked on, equal parts concerned and disgusted.

“You sure he’s going to be okay?” he asked Louis, eyes cast nervously at the bathroom door.

Louis nodded, positive. “It’s just nerves, Z. Nothing he can’t handle once he’s gotten it out of his system a bit.” Harry grumbled his agreement, wiping a hand across his mouth and tugging on Louis’ sleeve to help him up.

Louis gave Harry an appraising once-over, taking in his flushed face and slightly glassy eyes. “You all good now Haz? Want some water?”

Harry nodded, and Louis pulled a water bottle out from the small bag of emergency provisions he’d packed just in case.

“Paracetamol?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t want anything fogging up my head when we play.”

He took a long sip from the water bottle, the pallor in his face starting to fade back into his normal complexion (albeit a tad rosier in the cheeks than usual). He stood up on shaky legs, but all in all Harry looked about a million times better than he had twenty minutes before. Louis followed suit, packing up the emergency kit and following him out of the bathroom, Zayn trailing behind.

When they made it back to the dressing room, Harry had a bounce in his step that Louis hadn’t seen since they’d first arrived at the venue.

“You look loads better,” Zayn commented, a small smile on his face. Harry grinned back in response.

Louis laughed. “I’m inclined to agree. You need some gum too, Haz?”

Harry stuck his hand out eagerly. “Yeah, I’d rather not spend our first performance with the taste of vomit in my mouth.”

One of the venue producers ducked their head in a moment later. “We’re about ready to go boys. Showtime’s in five.”

The three of them exchanged slightly panicked looks, doing their best to tamper down their nerves.

“We’re good when you are.” Louis responded on their behalf. And in that moment of locking gazes with his two boys, he realized they were really and truly good to go, and for the first time since Richard had told them about the touring idea, Louis felt confident that they could really do this.

He took Harry and Zayn’s hands in his and the three of them huddled together.

“I love you boys. Now let’s smash it!”

Zayn surprised the both of them by tugging Louis and Harry into a bone-crushing hug, and Louis knew there were no two other people he’d rather be doing this with.

They held their hug a moment longer, letting their hands drop when they heard the crowd fall abruptly silent behind the curtain.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Harry muttered, his eyebrows pulling together.

Louis hip-checked him. “Come on Haz, time to show ‘em how amazing you are.”

***

The raucous sound of the crowd after they’d finished their last song was thrilling, and Louis could barely breathe, adrenaline exploding through his veins.

The moment they were backstage again, Harry tugged him into a rough hug, his sweat-soaked curls rubbing against the side of Louis’ face and his hands getting tangled in Louis’ t-shirt.

“That was just … I can’t … Lou that was amazing!” Harry’s eyes were filled with joy, his whole body vibrating with energy.

Louis grinned back at him, enamored. “We did so good, Haz. So good.”

He turned, looking for the third member of their unlikely musical trio.

“Zayn! Get your arse over here!” Zayn bounced over to them, just as high on the energy of the show as they were.

“Bro, we did it. We just played a fucking concert, in a fucking packed venue. Fuck.” His eyes were wide, pupils slightly blown out. Apparently concert-Zayn was slightly more foul-mouthed than everyday-Zayn.

Louis laughed and tugged him forward by the sleeve, shoving him towards Harry.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Greg James towering behind him, an enthusiastic grin on his face. “Louis! Congratulations!”

Louis beamed back at him, pleased and a little confused that Greg had completely by-passed the other two to talk directly to him.

Seemingly oblivious to Louis’ bewilderment, Greg pressed on. “I knew we’d made the right choice with you. You had the crowd eating out of your hand, tonight. You were born for this, Louis, you really were.”

And to Louis’ utter shock, Greg threw his arms around him, hunching considerably to wrap Louis’ markedly smaller frame up in his own. Louis was frozen to the spot, eventually forcing his sluggish brain to react, and well, attempt to hug Greg back.

The moment was over as quickly as it had started, and Greg pulled away to go congratulate the other boys with slightly more platonic (albeit no less enthusiastic) handshakes.

The air was oddly strained after Greg left, and Harry was quieter than usual. Louis did his best to loosen the atmosphere, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist and trying not to frown when Harry tensed beneath his touch.

“Lads, I think we need to go out and celebrate a job well done. I know the crew are throwing an after party, we should definitely pop by.”

Harry kept his head bowed, and Zayn gave him an appraising look before addressing Louis. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea tonight, Lou.”

Harry gave Zayn an appreciative smile, and Louis tried not to be too hurt at how suddenly he felt like an outsider to their conversation.

“Harry?” he turned, keeping his tone light.

Harry shook his head. “I think I’m going to back to the room. I’m just a bit tired.” His voice was monotone, and if Louis didn’t know Harry quite as well as he did, he might’ve believed him.

As it was, he didn’t want to push. Harry was, generally speaking, one of the most even-keeled people Louis had ever met, but every so often he’d get into a mood that took Louis completely by surprise and tended to vanish just as quickly. If he wanted to be alone, fine. He’d give him his space.

“Aright, cool. I guess I’ll just go by myself for a bit. I know Richard wanted at least one of us to make an appearance.” He turned to leave, casting one final glance at Harry and Zayn over his shoulder when he reached the door.

“Are you sure?” Louis’ voice wavered, and he hated how uncertain he sounded, like a little kid asking his parents’ permission for something.

Harry finally met his eyes, and the façade cracked for barely a second, but it was enough for Louis to see the hurt that was hiding there. Louis didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that, to deserve Harry looking at him like that, but all of a sudden it didn’t matter.

They’d had a great show, a phenomenal show, and yet here Harry was, acting like a child. Louis didn’t want to deal with it.

He shrugged his shoulders and left the room, ignoring the way Harry’s face fell when he thought Louis couldn’t see him and the comforting arm Zayn slung around his shoulder.

***

The after party was held at a bar just down the street from the venue, and Louis instantly regretted coming alone the moment he walked through the front door and realized he didn’t actually know anybody there.

Louis wasn’t normally one to stand awkwardly at the edge of the room at a party, but he also wasn’t the type to show up somewhere without ensuring that he knew at least one or two people.

He picked his way carefully towards the bar, avoiding some of the (already very drunk) crew members grinding on random patrons.

When he reached the bartender, he asked for a pint of whatever was decent on tap, handing his money over quickly and taking a sip of beer the moment the glass was handed to him. Liquid courage, and all that.

He turned, glass in hand, to survey the room in front of him, making note of the people who he recognized (as in, had seen in the production offices at one point but had never actually spoken to) and hoping that the alcohol would kick in sooner rather than later.

He felt a light hand on his shoulder and looked to see Greg standing next to him, a nearly-empty cocktail in hand. Based on the glassy, unfocused state of his eyes, Louis felt fairly safe in assuming it hadn’t been his first drink of the night.

“Louis. Great to see you, mate. Glad you could make it.” Greg drunkenly raised his glass in what Louis assumed was meant to be a gesture of salute.

“Yeah, mate, Richard wanted us to drop by, you know, meet some of the other people working on the show, but Haz and Zayn weren’t up to it.”

Greg looked amused at Louis’ casual mention of Harry’s nickname, and Louis promptly corrected himself.

“Uh. Harry, I mean. I’m not used to using his full name, sorry. Old habits.”

Greg smiled, his teeth lit a radioactive neon blue and green as they reflected the lights strung up around the bar. “So you two’ve know each other a long time, then?”

To his credit, Greg’s voice slurred only slightly. Louis assumed that had a lot to do with his body mass. He really was a rather tall man.

“Um, yeah. Haz and I grew up together. He’s my best friend.”

Greg nodded, engaged in what Louis had to say, but for some reason it made Louis’ stomach twist and churn, and not in a good way.

He felt like he was doing something wrong by discussing this, discussing them, with other people – especially people associated with the show. It was like what Harry had said before about Travis trying to force their chemistry into something he could milk for profit later.

“Anyway, enough about me. What made you so eager to come on tour with us, Mister James?”

Greg chortled at the title, his hand brushing against Louis’ lower back. “I don’t know, I guess I just wanted the challenge. I’ve never been a part of something like this, going on tour, new city every night. I can’t sing or play any instruments so I figured this might be my only chance.”

Louis nodded, shifting forward in a subtle attempt to loosen Greg’s grip on him. “In that case, we should see if we can find you a pair of maracas so you can get the full rockstar experience,” he settled on responding, before turning to scan the rest of the bar a second time.

“Listen, I should really try and go mingle some more. Problem is, I don’t know anybody.”

Greg’s mouth twitched mischievously, and then he was tugging Louis towards the crowd, stopping in front of a rather fit man with tousled hair and eyes that, even despite the glaze of intoxication, seemed alert.

“Louis,” Greg began, gesturing between the two of them. “This is Ashton. Ashton, this is Louis.” Ashton stuck out a hand, and Louis took it in his own.

“Ashton just got here tonight, but he’s going to be accompanying you three on drums for the rest of the tour.”

Ashton grinned, his dimples standing out sharply against his cheeks, and Louis couldn’t help the pang in his gut as he thought of his own dimpled boy back in the hotel room.

“Nice to meet you, mate. I’ve heard great things.”

Louis smiled, feeling the desperate urge to leave the party and go see Harry, but he knew leaving in the middle of a conversation probably wasn’t the most professional thing to do.

“Thanks, it’s always nice to know people aren’t making too much fun of us behind our backs.”

Ashton looked confused, so Louis plowed onwards.

“I just mean, you know, that we’re actors, and we’re going on tour even though we’ve never been properly musically trained, and quite honestly I’m rather pleased no one’s called me Selena Gomez yet.” Ashton let out a snort of laughter at that.

“Okay, so you’re the one everyone was saying was funny.” Louis flushed, pleased, but then Ashton continued. “All that’s left to meet is the fit one and the broody one.”

Normally, Louis reflected, the fit one was Zayn. Like, any sane person with eyes would describe him as the fit one. But the other descriptor, the broody one, there was no way in hell that anyone would ever describe Harry like that.

Even on his worst days, Harry was about a million times more tolerable than nearly everyone else in the room. Which meant that, to Ashton at least, Harry was the fit one.

Louis tried to ignore the sharp tinge of jealousy that zipped up his spine, plastering on a fake smile. “Yeah, Harry and Zayn are sorry they couldn’t be here, but I’m sure you’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Cool. I can’t wait.”

Louis heard a voice calling Ashton from the other end of the bar, and he shot Louis an apologetic look. “Sorry, duty calls. It was nice meeting you, though, yeah?” Louis couldn’t do much more than nod, his heart still sitting somewhere around the level of his ankles.

Greg had wandered off at some point without Louis noticing and he realized he had no real reason to be there anymore.

He’d put in a solid half-hour, and besides, no one cared that he was there because none of these people cared about his TV show; they were hired solely because of their experience with successfully running a tour.

Louis had never felt so grateful to be so seemingly invisible, and after a half-second’s deliberation, he slipped out the door and hailed a cab to take him back to the hotel.

***

When Louis got back to their shared room, Harry was already tucked neatly in bed, his face tense even in sleep. Louis stood at the foot of his own matching queen sized bed, wondering whether or not he should let Harry be or cuddle in beside him.

The problem was, Louis knew that even in one of his moods, Harry always craved his company. On the one hand, having had some time to cool off, he had the feeling that Harry probably felt guilty over how he’d acted towards Louis earlier too and would eagerly take any sign that Louis wasn’t upset with him.

On the other hand, Louis was tired of being made to feel like he’d done something wrong when he hadn’t. He knew he had every right to want some space from Harry, or at the very least, to distance himself until Harry snapped out of it.

Louis made the decision to ignore the logical side of his brain and climbed in bed next to him. Even in his sleep, Harry felt Louis’ presence, and he sleepily rolled over to pull him into his arms, the big spoon to Louis’ little spoon.

Louis felt butterflies in his stomach at the feeling of Harry’s warm, sleepy body pressed along his back, their legs tangling together beneath the covers, and he decided to disregard the part of his brain telling him that this was wrong, that things were weird between them and that sleep-cuddling wouldn’t resolve anything.

Harry sighed contentedly in his sleep, and Louis pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder as Harry cradled him closer. He drifted off to sleep, feeling warm and loved.

***

As was routine for them, Louis woke up with a sleepy, clingy Harry draped all over his back. He thought back fondly to the days when Harry was smaller than him (so what if he was only 15 at the time, it still counted) and Louis would tuck him under his chin while they cuddled.

For a while growing up, they had been the same size at least, but now, Harry was very definitely bigger than Louis – and while it might have annoyed him before (Louis hated feeling tiny), he couldn’t deny that it was sort of turning him on now. Not for the first time, he was glad to be the small spoon because it meant that Harry couldn’t feel the outrageous boner he was sporting as he slowly blinked awake.

Wanting to take care of the problem before Harry woke up, Louis squirmed out of his arms and sprinted to the washroom. By the time he’d returned, Harry was slowly coming back to the land of the living, a small furrow between his eyebrows as he registered the lack of Louis next to him.

“Right here, Haz. Had to pee something fierce,” Louis announced, figuring a little white lie was probably safer than the truth in this particular case. Harry looked up at him with a soft smile, his eyes all squinty and small as he adjusted to the morning light coming in from the window.

His memories from the night before seemed to hit him all at once, and suddenly the smile was gone, replaced by a worried frown as Harry shot Louis an urgent look.

“I’m sorry, Lou. I can’t believe I haven’t said that yet.”

Louis climbed back in bed, a comforting hand rubbing up and down Harry’s arm. “You haven’t even told me what you’re apologizing for, love.”

Harry bit his lip. “For yesterday. After the show. I was being weird, and I made you go to that party thing alone even though it was technically a work obligation and – ” Harry’s frown kept deepening as he went on, looking torn up about it.

“Zayn didn’t come either, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I asked him not to!” Harry exclaimed. He flushed immediately as Louis gave him a questioning look.

“Why?”

“I just didn’t want to be alone last night.”

“You could have asked me, Haz. You know I would have stayed with you.” Louis tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but he knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“No, I couldn’t.” Harry replied, crossing his arms in front of him as if to signal the end of the conversation.

Louis sighed, getting up from the bed. “I can’t stand it when you won’t talk to me. I don’t know what I’ve done, but it’s not fair that you keep shutting me out like this and then blaming me for not being there.”

Harry’s face fell.

“No, Lou,” he got up out of the bed, too, following Louis into the tiny living room. “I didn’t mean it like that, and I’m so sorry – again – for making you think that I’m blaming you. I’m just having a bit of a rough time coping with certain things right now, and I knew Zayn could relate in a way you couldn’t. I promise I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings or make you feel bad. I would never want that.”

Harry looked devastated at the mere thought of hurting Louis, and he knew that Harry meant every word of his apology. He took a step towards him, scuffing his toe on the carpet.

“I don’t like fighting with you, Hazzababe.”

Harry smiled at the nickname, knowing that meant things were okay between them again. “Me neither, Boo Bear.”

Louis shuddered and Harry cackled, squeezing Louis towards him in an asphyxiation-inducing hug.

“If I’d known how often you’d whip out that particular endearment I never would have told you about it.”

Harry kissed Louis obnoxiously on the top of his head. “But it makes me so happy, Lou. I love calling you adorably stupid names.”

And much as he might whinge and moan, Louis quite loved it too.

***

That morning, they had an interview with Nick Grimshaw for BBC Radio 1 to promote their tour and accompanying television show. On the car ride over to the Bristol studio where the interview was to take place, Harry basically reverted to a childlike state, cuddling around Louis and holding him close like a five year old with a teddy bear.

Louis didn’t know what exactly had brought it on (nor did he particularly mind), but he couldn’t help noticing the looks Zayn kept shooting him from the other side of the car.

Zayn appeared curious, but not as if he found Harry’s behaviour odd or unusual. There was something careful in his gaze, a gentle concern for Harry that Louis couldn’t quite understand.

Before he could take Zayn aside and ask him about it, though, the car pulled up to the studio and the three boys were unloaded, blinking the last remnants of sleep out of their eyes as they trudged towards the front doors of the building.

Louis took Harry’s giant paw of a hand and squeezed it, biting back a smile when Harry wove their fingers together a moment later, refusing to let go.

                                                                                 ____________________________________________________

“So today I’m sat in Bristol – yes, I know – speaking with Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, and Zayn Malik of the upcoming ITV show Up All Night. Now boys, is there any particular reason we had to do this here rather than back in the London studio?”

Louis could practically hear the smirk in Nick Grimshaw’s voice as he began the interview, and while his last question may have been directed at all three of them, his eyes were glued to Harry.

To Louis’ utter dismay, Harry grinned back sheepishly. “Well, Nick, it’d be quite hard to interview us in London when we’re out traveling across the UK on tour.”

Louis knew that Harry’s slow, deep voice was made for radio, and based on the look Grimshaw was giving him, Harry knew it too.

“Tour, you say? But I thought you lot were actors.” Nick feigned surprise, and Louis felt the overwhelming urge to strangle him.

He must not have been as good at concealing it as he thought because Zayn shot him a genuinely concerned look from across the room, though every one else remained blissfully ignorant as Harry started speaking again.

“We are. But we also do some singing on our show. We’re quite skilled multitaskers, you know.”

Grimshaw raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Oh, I’ll bet.”

Louis mouth dropped open, appalled, but before he had a chance to respond Zayn (bloody Zayn of all people) sensed Louis’ distress and butted in.

“What Harry means is that our characters on the show are in a band, and so the producers thought it’d be a good idea to send us out on the road, performing our characters’ songs in concert to create some buzz for the show and to give fans a chance to come see us live.”

That was the most Louis had ever heard Zayn say at one time in a public setting, and he did his best to cover up the shock and pull himself together just as Nick turned to address him for the first time.

“Louis, tell me, what’s it like to be on the road? I’d imagine it’s a bit of an adjustment, you know, for an actor.”

Louis would’ve smacked him, he really would’ve, but he knew that wasn’t exactly professional. Plus Harry was still looking at Grimshaw with stars in his eyes and he didn’t want anybody to think he was acting out of jealousy. Nick was a prat. Simple as that.

Sure, no one else seemed to be reacting the same way Louis was to Nick’s taunts but that was because they thought he was funny or charming or whatever. But Louis could see right through that. Jealousy, ha, as bloody if.

“I’d say it’s a bit of an adjustment for anybody, Grimshaw, my profession notwithstanding. Though, what with all the location shoots we have to do in film and television, I’d imagine I’m considerably more prepared for life on the road than, say, a radio dj.”

Louis tried not to look too smug as the people in the room around them burst into laughter. Grimshaw, unfortunately, looked delighted rather than perturbed. “Oooh, this one’s got a bit of a bite, hasn’t he?”

Harry giggled, and Nick grinned, evidently pleased to have elicited such a response. Louis bit back a growl.

“Harry, why don’t you tell us a little bit about who your character is and how that influences you when you’re performing?” Damn it. That was actually a pretty great question. Fucking Grimshaw, actually doing his job properly. Louis was in deep if Nick Grimshaw’s competence at his job was pissing him off.

“Uh, my character, yeah, he’s sort of … he was a bit of a geek growing up, and it’s only recently that he started, you know, feeling comfortable with himself and finding his place in the world. But he still has that mindset of nobody caring about him and being alone most of the time. It’s not that he’s a loner, per se, more that even though he’s successful now, and he has friends and a life he’s happy with, he’s still lonely. So, I guess I try to embody that as much as I can onstage.”

Harry paused, his voice getting softer. “I can relate to him quite a lot, I guess. I was bullied a bit growing up, til I was thirteen, and even after that I was never one of those people that’s really, like, secure in themselves.”

Harry ducked his head, his cheeks flaming red, and Louis wanted to jump into his lap and give him a cuddle. Unfortunately, that whole professionalism thing got in the way of it. Again.

Nick Grimshaw, for his part, pouted over-exaggeratedly. “Aw, poor babe. That must’ve been rough. I never would have thought that someone like you would have had a school experience like that. You’re such a charmer.”

Harry blushed again. “It wasn’t all bad. The opposite, actually. When I said things got better when I was thirteen, it’s cause that’s when I met Lou.”

The room let out a collective awe, and Louis felt his own face flush.

Grimshaw’s interest was certainly peaked now, as he looked back and forth between them animatedly. “What, you mean this Louis? The one sat over here glaring at me all morning?” Oh, he was going to pay for that little comment.

Harry ducked his head, cheeks still flushed. “He’s not a morning person,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

“You can’t just leave it at that! You two have known each other for ages, it seems. Why wasn’t this in my press kit?”

His last sentence was jokingly directed at his producer, who just shrugged lazily as if to say ‘fuck if I know’.

Harry finally looked directly Louis, begging him to do something, and Louis remembered with a sharp punch in his gut what Harry had said about not wanting to let PR take their relationship and twist it so it would bring in more viewers.

“Harry’s my best mate,” Louis began. “I saw him sitting by himself at lunch one day and just … forced him to be my friend, basically.”

“So you two never…” Grimshaw began, but Louis cut him off before he could even finish his thought.

“We’ve known each other since we were thirteen and fifteen, and we’ve been best friends ever since. And that’s all we’re comfortable discussing.” Louis’ voice came out with a finality that surprised even him.

He gestured to his right, quickly trying to deflect Nick’s train of thought. “Zayn, on the other hand, loves talking about his personal life, don’t you Zaynie?”

If looks could kill, Louis entire family would be in mourning. Luckily, the most Zayn could actually achieve with his mutinous glare was cause Louis extreme discomfort.

Nick, mercifully, followed Louis’ lead and quickly set his sights on Zayn, asking him similar questions about character motivations and if he was seeing anyone at the moment.

Harry smiled shyly at Louis, the relief on his face visible even from outer space. He mouthed ‘thanks’ at Louis and quickly flashed him a thumbs-up.

Louis grinned and quickly sent him a thumbs-up back, pleased to be using their signal from back when they were teenagers.

The rest of the interview went by relatively smoothly (minus the occasional sparring between Louis and Nick), and by the time they were off the air permanently, Louis almost felt like maybe things were back to normal again.

Then he saw Harry and Nick bloody Grimshaw exchanging phone numbers and his blood pressure spiked back up again.

Zayn grabbed him by the arm, tugging him out of the room before he could burst a blood vessel in his eye.

Once they were alone in the hallway, Zayn finally let him go.

“Louis. Calm down.”

Calm. Calm was overrated. What Louis actually wanted to do was march back into the room with a flamethrower and see how quickly he could set Nick bloody Grimshaw’s stupid bloody quiff on fire. Based on the sheer amount of hairspray keeping it perched atop his head, Louis imagined it wouldn’t take long.

“Louis.”

Zayn’s voice was more insistent this time, and when Louis finally blinked his way out of the fiery daydream, it was to the sight of Harry giggling as he and Nick exited the studio together, Grimshaw’s arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“Fuck.” He muttered, his voice sounding devastated even to himself.

“I know,” was all Zayn said, and after a strained moment, he pulled Louis into a one-armed hug right there in the middle of the hallway.

“We’ll deal with this back at the hotel, yeah? People are starting to stare.” He murmured quietly in Louis’ ear.

Louis nodded. It was all he could summon the energy to do.

***

By the time they were back at the hotel, Louis had calmed down considerably and Zayn was no longer looking at him like he was a ticking time bomb.

Harry arrived a few minutes later, having chosen to hang around the studio for a bit before heading back on his own.

Louis and Zayn had gone straight up to Zayn’s room, where Louis was currently sprawled across the bed, his face buried in Zayn’s pillow.

“So,” Zayn began, taking a seat next to Louis and poking him in the side. “Are we gonna talk about this or should I go back to pretending I haven’t noticed how weird things are between you and Harry lately.”

Louis grunted into the pillow.

“Lou….”

Louis made a frustrated growling sound, refusing to look at Zayn.

“Fine,” Zayn said easily, walking over towards the mini-bar. “I’m not going to push you. But when you’re ready to talk…”

Louis made a vaguely acquiescing hand gesture that he hoped was enough to placate Zayn, his face still planted in the pillow.

Before Zayn could respond, someone knocked softly at the door. Louis lifted his head from the pillow, a panicked expression on his face.

Zayn frowned at Louis, but walked over to the door anyway, opening it slightly.

“Hey H. What’s up?”

“Is Lou there with you? He wasn’t in our room and I don’t know where else to look.”

Louis put on as neutral an expression as possible, doing his best to look like nothing was wrong, but Zayn surprised him by shrugging at Harry.

“Nah, bro, haven’t seen him since we got back. I reckon he’s gone to grab food or something. I wouldn’t worry, though. He knows we have to leave in like an hour for the show tonight.”

Louis heard Harry sigh from the other side of the door. “Yeah, I guess. I kind of want to talk to him, though. He was acting weird all morning and I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Zayn nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll let him know you’re looking for him if I see him before you do.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Harry paused, weighing his words. “And thanks for last night. I don’t … I think I needed to hear things from your perspective, you know? I’ve just been caught up in my head for so long and … just thanks, basically.”

Louis had no idea what Harry was talking about, but he supposed it was none of his business anyhow. Harry had said, before, that he’d chosen to talk to Zayn because Zayn could relate to his problem in a way that Louis couldn’t. As curious as he might be, he knew Harry deserved his privacy.

“I’m glad to help. Seriously. Why don’t you get some rest before the show? I’m sure Louis’ll be back any minute.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I’d rather not look like a zombie on stage.” Harry laughed at his own joke, and Louis bit down on his finger, trying not to let out any noise.

Zayn closed the door, and after they were both sure Harry’s footsteps had made it all the way down the hall, Zayn shot Louis a pointed look.

“You need to talk to him.”

Louis moaned. “I can’t. I can barely talk to you about this, what makes you think I can stomach talking to him?”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Whatever, your weird co-dependent relationship, your choice. All I’m saying is, if you keep avoiding it, whatever it is, it’s just going to keep getting worse. I think maybe your situation isn’t as hopeless as you seem to think.”

Louis flung his arm over his eyes in exasperation. “Okay okay, enough advice Zayn. I will talk to him, okay? Just not right now. Right now is the time for raiding the mini-bar and ignoring all of my responsibilities until we have to leave for the show.”

Zayn pulled two cokes out of the freezer. “Fair enough.” He handed one over to Louis, who grinned delightedly. “At least tell Harry where you are, though. The poor boy is going to be worrying about you otherwise.”

Louis took a sip of his soda, ignoring the swoop of guilt in his stomach. “Yeah, fine. Just promise me you won’t mention anything.”

Zayn mimed a zipping motion across his lips as Louis dialed Harry’s number.

***

Their show that night was in Gloucester, and Louis had successfully managed to avoid Harry for most of the trip over to the venue.

Harry didn’t seem to suspect anything, what with Louis claiming to have a headache and using it to excuse his silence, but Louis knew that he’d clue in sooner rather than later and that was a conversation he was not looking forward to.

Louis wasn’t even sure why he was avoiding him, exactly. It’s not like Harry had done anything wrong. He just keep replaying the images from that morning in his head, the way Nick Grimshaw had looked at him, and worse, so much worse, the way Harry had glowed under his attention.

Louis knew he wasn’t being fair, but he wasn’t used to having to share Harry. In all the years they’d known each other, Harry had casually dated, but he’d never seemed all that into anyone he was going out with. Louis had always gotten the impression that he was only with them because it was what people expected rather than because he was legitimately attracted to them.

Louis wasn’t used to seeing Harry actually flirting with someone, opening up to them in a way that was very obviously not platonic. And yeah, he guessed he could finally admit it, he was jealous.

He’d only just come to terms with his feelings for Harry, and it didn’t seem fair that he suddenly had to deal with Harry being attracted to someone else. He knew he was being an idiot. And selfish. And that he couldn’t expect Harry to not date other people when he had no idea how Louis felt.

Louis knew what he should do, what the right thing to do was. He just didn’t want to do it.

Talking to Harry, really talking to him and telling him how he felt, was terrifying. Because there was so much more at stake here than there would be with a simple crush. If Harry rejected Louis, it would put their entire friendship at risk, and Louis couldn’t bear the thought of life without Harry.

Sure, Harry might return his feelings, but the chances were far greater that he didn’t. And Louis knew without a shadow of a doubt that the resulting collapse of their relationship would destroy him.

So his only other option was to bury his feelings deep, deep down inside himself and learn to control himself around Harry and other men. Problem was, he wasn’t quite at the stage of being able to do that convincingly yet.

Hence, the tactic of avoidance.

This was the first night Ashton would be joining them onstage, and Louis stood off to the side, methodically scrolling through his phone as Harry and Zayn introduced themselves to him. Zayn kept shooting Louis concerned looks, but Louis ignored him, knowing that 15 minutes before the show was certainly not the time or place to have a serious heart-to-heart.

Harry shook Ashton’s hand and smiled cherubically at him before walking over to Louis. He came to a stop right in front of him and Louis had no choice but to look up.

“Hey Lou, are you feeling any better?” Harry’s face and voice were painted with concern, and for a brief moment Louis felt awful.

But then he remembered the look on Harry’s face when he’d been talking to Nick Grimshaw and it reaffirmed to him just how vital it was to get his feelings under control before they could jeopardize things even more.

“Same as before, I guess.” He responded, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.

Harry reached a hand out towards his face and Louis couldn’t help how he flinched away from it.

Harry withdrew his hand, smile faltering. “You said before that we were okay. But we’re not, are we?”

Harry’s voice was small and his expression was so, so sad.

Louis didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already had, but he couldn’t stand lying to him either. He settled for a shrug.

Harry looked devastated. “I don’t know what I did, Lou, I really don’t.”

Before Louis even had the chance to explain, Harry walked away, brusquely pushing past Zayn’s outstretched hand and going backstage.

Zayn stormed over to Louis. “Louis, you have to stop whatever the fuck it is you’re doing. You think it’s helping, but it’s not, it’s only make things worse. Just fucking suck it up and go talk to him.”

“The show’s about to start, Zayn.” Louis could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, could hear how broken his voice sounded, and Zayn took pity on him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“After, then, okay? This can’t keep going on. You two are so bloody stupid sometimes.”

Louis huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t want him to hate me.” Louis mumbled, his face pressed against Zayn’s shoulder.

Zayn patted his back. “He could never hate you, Lou. He’s just confused right now. And with good reason. You’re not exactly the easiest person to get a read on, you know.”

Louis nodded, wiping his eyes. “I know.”

Zayn ruffled his hair before letting go. “The second the show’s over, seriously. Go talk to him.”

Louis nodded seriously. “I will. I promise.”

***

The show was … well, tense would probably be the best way to describe it, if Louis was being honest. He knew that he was off, that his heart wasn’t in the performance the way it usually was, and it affected the way the other boys played too. Zayn tried his best to pick up Louis’ slack, but it wasn’t enough.

The show wasn’t a disaster or anything; in fact, Louis doubted that most people in the audience had even noticed anything was off. Technically, they were proficient, but emotionally – everything felt disconnected.

Harry too was slightly off, though he was doing a much better job of hiding it than Louis. He kept his eyes straight ahead the entire performance, refusing to make eye contact with Louis and staying rigidly to his side of the stage.

The moment they finished their last song and the boys made their way backstage, Louis made a beeline for Harry, only to be stopped by a large hand on his elbow. He whirled around to see Greg standing behind him, a concerned look on his face.

“Greg. Hi.” Louis tried not to be too short with him, but he was getting more and more anxious by the second.

He turned his head around to see Harry staring at him, his face completely closed off.

Louis made to walk towards him, but Harry’s jaw tensed and he shook his head, taking Ashton by the elbow and tugging him away behind him.

Louis blinked, trying not to cry.

Fuck. He’d lost his only chance to talk to him, to explain. And Greg was still standing right behind him.

Louis turned back around, trying to wipe his expression blank, but clearly he wasn’t doing a very good job of it as Greg’s curious face morphed into one of concern.

“Is something wrong? You look …” Greg didn’t finish the sentence, clearly not wanting to insult him by accident.

Louis laughed, but it sounded harsh. “Let’s just say I’ve had better days.”

“Can I get you something? A water, or …”

And again with the not finishing sentences thing. Louis didn’t like being treated with kid gloves, but he also didn’t want to insult one of the producers on the show, so he merely shook his head.

“Didn’t get enough sleep last night, I guess. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Greg laughed, his eyes lighting up with relief. “God, Louis, everyone’s entitled to the occasional rough night. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed, I don’t know, a bit distracted during the performance.”

Yeah, that was one word for it. Louis didn’t bother to correct him though.

“Yeah, I guess it’s been harder than I thought, adjusting to life on the road.” He sounded awful even to himself, but Greg bought it easily.

“I know this isn’t strictly professional, but why don’t I take you out for drinks tonight? It might help take the edge off, let you get a good night’s sleep for once.”

Louis bit back the ‘no’ that sprang immediately to his tongue, because the thing was, even though he wasn’t even a little bit interested in Greg that way, he was interested in being comforted and cared for by someone who wasn’t Zayn for once.

He was hurt, was the thing, and even though he was sure it was mostly his fault, he was tired of feeling that way. So, yeah, drinks with Greg seemed like the perfect solution. Nothing had to come of it. It would just be nice to sit and talk to someone who couldn’t read his every facial expression like a book.

Louis nodded. “Yeah, mate, that sounds great. Let me just tell Zayn.”

Greg patted him on the back, grinning. “Why don’t you meet me down at the bar in five. We can figure out where we’re going from there.”

Louis nodded, and Greg headed back the way he’d come.

Louis wandered over to the other end of the room where Zayn was sitting on the couch, reading something on his phone. He put it down as Louis approached.

“I’m, uh, going for drinks. With Greg. Just thought you should know.”

Zayn’s eyebrows rose, expression dubious. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Louis’ shoulders sagged. “No. But I’m tired of being so fucking sad all the time.”

“Don’t you think you should – ”

“Talk to Harry?” he snapped. “Yeah, I tried that, but he fucked off with that Ashton bloke as soon as our set was over and I have no idea where he is. Or if he even wants to talk to me.”

Louis was on the verge of tears again, and Zayn sprang into protective best friend mode, pulling him down to sit next to him on the couch.

“Okay, Lou, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business what you do, I just want you to be happy, you know that right? And if going for drinks with Greg and taking your mind off everything for a bit will help, then I think that’s what you need to do.”

Louis sobbed a bit, and Zayn wiped the tears off his face.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered, and Zayn squeezed him close.

“I know, babe. I know.”

Once Louis was back in a somewhat presentable state, he got up off the couch on shaky legs and wiped his eyes one last time.

“I should go; Greg’ll be wondering where I am.”

Zayn smiled softly at him. “Things’ll get better, Lou. Just, try to enjoy yourself, yeah? At the very least, make him use the company card to charge the drinks.”

Louis snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, mate. That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Zayn held his hand out for a fist bump, which Louis returned as enthusiastically as his emotional state could allow.

“Just give him some time to cool down, yeah? You can always talk when you get back.”

Louis nodded, knowing Zayn was right, and that Harry hadn’t exactly been in the right headspace to talk about feelings right after the show either.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Louis tried his best to joke, and Zayn smiled back at him.

“Wanker. Have a good time.”

Louis grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

And despite everything else, Louis knew that the promise of free alcohol always helped to boost his spirits at least somewhat.

                                                                               ____________________________________________________

When Louis got to the bar, he found Greg chatting amiably with another member of the production staff, a half-finished glass of ice water sitting in front of him.

Louis hovered awkwardly behind him, not wanting to interrupt the conversation but, by the same token, not exactly in the mood to socialize.

Seemingly sympathetic to Louis’ plight, the woman Greg was conversing with nodded briefly at him before saying her goodbyes. Louis moved forward to take her seat at the bar, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as Greg finally noticed him.

“So I was thinking,” Greg began, a small smile on his face. “Drinks are great and all, but what I really think you need is some food that hasn’t been sitting under a heat lamp in a catering truck for hours.”

Louis blinked at him.

“Are you asking me to dinner?”

Greg beamed at him, obviously undeterred by Louis’ blatant lack of enthusiasm. “I’m asking if you’d like to grab food.”

“Do I have to pay for it?” Louis asked, not really caring about how rude it sounded. Luckily for him, Greg apparently found Louis endearing even when he was being a bit of a shit. He tugged a black AMEX card out of his wallet with the name of the production company stamped on the front of it.

“Consider this meal courtesy of XFACTOR Productions.”

“Well in that case, I’m getting a steak,” Louis muttered, and Greg let out a raucous laugh as he

stood up and held a hand out for Louis, who grudgingly took it and allowed himself to be towed towards the exit.

***

The restaurant they ended up going to was around the corner from the hotel, which was very convenient because Louis intended on drinking quite a lot and didn’t really fancy trying to navigate a cab ride back while pissed out of his mind.

They were seated at a rather romantic table in the corner, and the waiter was clearly under the impression that they were on a date.

If he were in any other state of mind, Louis would protest, but as it was his only thoughts revolved around acquiring and then promptly consuming vast amounts of alcohol.

Once they were seated, the waiter looked between them with a knowing smile. “Is there anything I can get you gentlemen to start?”

“Vodka.”

The waiter whipped his head towards Louis. Greg merely shrugged, giving his own order. “I’ll take an ice water. And maybe a breadbasket, if you do those here?”

The waiter looked back and forth between the two, clearly trying to figure out whether the jarring juxtaposition between Louis’ sullen demeanor and Greg’s casual indifference to said sullenness was deliberate or not.

“Do you, erm, want that vodka mixed with anything?”

“Nope.” Louis’ voice was flat, and the waiter nodded quickly.

“Right. Ice water, bread basket and, uh, vodka coming right up.” The waiter turned away from the table, trying very hard to control the expression on his face.

“You may as well just bring the bottle!” Louis called out after him, and he could see the waiter shoot him a jerky thumbs up before shaking his head.

Greg cleared his throat and Louis turned his attention back to him with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

“So …” he began, halting abruptly when it was clear Louis wasn’t exactly in the mood for small talk. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about Louis?”

Louis shook his head. “Nope. Everything’s great. Peachy, even. Is that a word people still use? Peachy? It’s quite evocative, I think.”

“Louis – ”

“So how long have you been in television, Greg?” Louis asked, propping his elbow up on the table and resting his head in his hand.

“Long enough to know a blatant diversionary tactic when I see one.” Greg sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Diversionary. That’s a big word. Quite fun to say too. I’d imagine not so much when you’re drunk, though. Speaking of which …”

Louis turned around to look for the waiter, who was approaching their table with the breadbasket in one hand and a bottle of Grey Goose in the other.

“Vodka,” he breathed longingly.

The waiter hesitantly placed the bottle in front of Louis, who promptly unscrewed the top and poured a generous portion into the empty shot glass in front of him.

“Bottoms up,” he cried, holding the glass up in a ‘cheers’ gesture before taking a gulp. His lips pursed, ignoring the clean, hard taste on his tongue and forcing it down anyway.

The waiter stared at him in shock, and even Greg looked a little stunned (which was saying a lot, considering the types of people Louis was sure he’d worked with on previous television shows).

It was as if the vodka burning down his throat had given him a brief yet overwhelmingly necessary sense of clarity.

This was stupid.

Being here when he knew he needed to talk to Harry and drinking vodka straight out of the bottle in a pathetic attempt to ignore his problems wasn’t going to solve anything. He had to leave. He had to, fuck, he had to say something to Harry.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, things had changed irrevocably between them. Louis could ignore his feelings for the rest of his life, but they would still be there, and they would still affect their friendship, even if only inside his own mind.

Louis stood up abruptly. The waiter took a startled step back, but Louis was focused entirely on Greg.

“Greg, I’m so sorry but I have to leave. I know I’ve been a total shit today and I’m sorry for that, I really am, because you don’t deserve having to put up with me like this, but I can’t…” he paused, figuring out just what it was he wanted to say. “You were right, before. I’m not okay. And I thought I could just ignore my problem and drink until it went away, but I can’t, and it won’t. I apologize, again, for the behaviour I displayed tonight.”

Greg stared at him wide-eyed, his lips parted slightly, before a slow smile spread across his face.

“Louis, mate,” he began, “I appreciate the apology, but the so-called ‘behaviour’ you displayed tonight doesn’t even rank on the list of shitty things I’ve seen actors do before. Go, deal with whatever it is you’re running away from.”

Louis nodded his thanks, then looked to the waiter. “If it’s any consolation, the bit of vodka I did manage to choke down was great.”

Louis smiled apologetically before darting out of the restaurant, the sound of Greg’s laughter following him out the door.

***

It wasn’t until Louis was in the elevator that he realized he had no idea what he was going to say when he got to Harry’s room.

He also realized that he had no idea if Harry would actually be there.

Louis made the impulsive decision to use the spare keycard Harry had given him, figuring he could always wait for him to get back if he wasn’t in.

Louis knew they couldn’t put off talking any longer; not only was the strain dangerous to their friendship, but it affected how they interacted onstage, and he really wasn’t in the mood to be given a stern talking to by management about his and Harry’s lack of stage presence.

Louis got out of the elevator and walked down the hallway with as much confidence as he could muster, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the slight shaking in his hands and legs.

This conversation, regardless of how it went, would change his and Harry’s relationship forever, and while he knew there was a chance that Harry might return his feelings, the terror that he wouldn’t was enough to make his palms sweat the closer he got to the door.

It wasn’t until he was stood directly outside of it that Louis gave himself permission to freak out.

Fuck. Fuck. This, what he was confessing, was a big fucking deal.

He was about to tell his best friend, the one person he trusted most in the world outside of his own family, that he was in love with him. There was no way that he could come back from this.

He weighed his options one final time before going inside.

Sure, he could come up with some bullshit excuse for his behaviour, and while that might buy him some time in the short term, surely Harry would notice when he kept acting weird whenever Harry showed interest in another guy.

No, Louis had to tell him the truth, because while yes, it would likely be the most terrifying thing he’d ever have to do, it was also the only way he could get over the weirdness between them lately. Because what if?

What if Harry really did return his feelings? What if the only thing stopping them from being together was Louis’ stubbornness and fear of rejection? He didn’t think he could live with himself if he let Harry go without even trying; if there was one thing Louis feared more than rejection, it was regret.

Louis took one last, deep breath and pulled the keycard from his pocket and slid it into the door, not at all sure what he was going to say if Harry was already in the room but hoping for the best.

The only light on in the room was coming from the bathroom, and Louis blinked for a second as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He thought he saw someone moving on the bed across the room and his hand grazed the wall, looking for a light switch.

He flicked it on, and as the room flooded with light he realized that rather than just one, there were two people tangled up together on the bed.

And that they were in nothing but their underwear.

And one of them had a full head of dark brown curls.

The other was Ashton.

They jolted apart as soon as the light turned on, and Harry turned to stare at the person who’d interrupted, his pupils dilated and his lips red and swollen.

When he saw Louis standing there, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

Louis’ face was burning and he knew he would start crying if he didn’t get out of there immediately.

He turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

His vision was getting blurry and he couldn’t seem to hold back the broken sobs that kept coming out of his mouth.

He had to find Zayn. He had to … fuck, he just had to get as far away as possible. Away from his feelings, away from Harry, away from fucking Ashton who’d already gotten to hold Harry in ways Louis would only ever get to imagine, apparently.

Louis could hear Harry’s door opening behind him but no, he couldn’t deal with him right now, not like this. He needed to hide. He just wanted to feel safe.

He bolted around the corner and banged on Zayn’s door, praying to God that he’d open it before Harry could get there.

Heaven seemed to be on his side, for once, as Zayn jerked open the door a half a second later with a confused look. As soon as he took in Louis’ expression, he pulled him inside his room and into a hug, closing the door firmly behind him.

He walked him over to the bed, his hands rubbing comforting circles on his back as Louis sobbed in his arms.

“Oh babe,” Zayn murmured as Louis curled up into a little broken ball, no longer able to hold the heartbreak back.

They heard a loud pounding on Zayn’s door a second later.

“Zayn, let me in! Louis I need to talk to you! Please!”

Louis couldn’t even answer, and Zayn, bless him, knew that Louis really wasn’t able to deal with anyone right now.

He squeezed Louis tight and kissed him on the forehead, murmuring, “I’ll deal with it,” before getting up and walking over to the door.

Harry started banging against the door, seemingly uncaring about the late hour and the other people he was disturbing. Zayn yanked it open and the knocking abruptly stopped.

“Zayn – ” Harry began, but Zayn interrupted him.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two right now, but you’re not coming into this room.”

“You don’t understand, I have to – ”

“No, Harry, you don’t understand. I have never seen Louis in the state he’s in right now, okay? I don’t know what you two did or said to each other but he’s not in the right space to speak to anyone right now, especially you. So I’m going to have to ask you to go back to your room until he tells me he’s ready to talk with you.”

Harry was silent. “I just want to make sure he’s okay,” he whispered, sounding as if he too was holding back tears.

“He’s not. But he will be. Just … just give him some space, yeah?”

Harry must have nodded in the affirmative, because Zayn sighed sadly.

“Look, I know this is hard on you too, but he burst into my room looking destroyed, and right now taking care of him is my priority. Just … I’ll call you, okay? When he’s ready to talk.”

Louis could hear the sound of clothes rustling as Zayn gave Harry a hug too, and Louis could just picture Harry’s face right now, green eyes wide and tear tracks running down his cheeks. He knew it wasn’t fair to keep him out, but he also knew he needed Zayn right now in a way that Harry didn’t.

Zayn closed the door softly and Louis felt warm arms wrap around him as Zayn climbed back onto the bed, pulling him close and spooning behind him.

“We don’t have to talk until you’re ready, Lou.”

Louis still wasn’t sure he could talk, so he settled for humming quietly, his throat tight. Zayn responded by covering Louis up even more, like a protective human blanket.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured into Louis hair. “It’ll all be okay.”

***

Zayn was on the verge of falling asleep by the time Louis was ready to talk. He shifted slightly under Zayn’s arm, and the motion caused Zayn to blink back to consciousness, his grip on Louis loosening.

Louis sat up against the headboard, his knees tucked up under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. Zayn pulled himself up next to Louis, eyes locked on him.

“I was going to tell him. Tonight. How I felt about him. I was at that stupid restaurant with Greg and I just couldn’t bear it anymore. Not knowing, you know? And lying. I couldn’t keep lying. It hurt too much. So I left, just got up and walked back to the hotel so I could finally be honest with Harry about how I felt. How I feel. I had his spare keycard, so I let myself in, and yeah, in retrospect I probably should have knocked first, cause I definitely would’ve liked to have avoided seeing him and Ashton naked together.”

Even saying the words out loud made him feel sick, but Louis knew he had to tell Zayn, even if it meant he had to fight his gag reflex every step of the way.

For his part, Zayn recoiled a bit, his expression stunned.

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I know. So, like, I panicked, obviously. I freaked the fuck out and bolted. And that’s how I ended up here. Sad and pathetic and crying my eyes out while my best friend slash person I’m stupidly in love with is blowing the drummer of our band.”

Louis could feel his eyes welling up again, and he balled his hands into tight fists, his short nails digging into his palms in an attempt to stem the tears.

Zayn pulled him into another tight hug, carding a comforting hand through Louis’ hair.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. Fuck. I should have stepped in earlier. I had a feeling, but it wasn’t my place, but then all this shit happened …” Zayn trailed off, his eyes full of regret, as Louis stared at him in confusion.

“Z, you can’t possibly think any of this is your fault. I’m the one who fucked it all up.”

Zayn shook his head, expression somber. “Harry overheard Greg talking to one of the production people about going out with you for drinks. He assumed it was a date, I guess, and then just grabbed Ashton and stormed off. I should have gone after him and clarified, but fuck, when he said he had to move on I didn’t think it’d be this quickly.”

Louis frowned. “Okay, I think there’s some vital information missing here because I’m confused. What do you mean, Harry said he had to move on? Move on from what? I got the feeling he never liked Greg, but why …” Louis trailed off, confused, as Zayn shot him a look that was equal parts fond and exasperated.

“Louis. You can’t possibly be that dense. Harry’s in love with you.”

Louis froze, his mouth opening as if to interject and then snapping closed just as quickly. “You can’t just say things like that, Zayn.”

Zayn sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I damn well can say things like that, seeing as Harry told me himself.”

Louis gaped at Zayn. “He what?”

Zayn laughed in disbelief. “You two really are thick when it comes to how the other feels. Harry’s been in love with you for ages, Lou. Literally years.”

Louis’ whole body felt like ice. It couldn’t be true. He would’ve known, would’ve sensed it somehow. He and Harry were as close as two human beings could be without actually being physically attached to one another. There’s no way Harry could hide something like that from him, not for fucking years.

“Stop it. You’re wrong.” Louis could hardly breathe, his whole system going into shock.

“Lou, I love you, but you need to pull your head out of your arse and just listen to me, okay?” Zayn waited for Louis to nod grudgingly before continuing.

“Did you ever wonder why I ended things with you so quickly back when we were dating?”

Louis shrugged. “You said you thought we’d be better off as friends.”

“And didn’t you think that was weird? We were together, what two months? We got along well, we were both attracted to each other, the sex was amazing.” Louis rolled his eyes as Zayn continued. “And yet you seriously never questioned why I wanted to end things with you?”

Louis bit his lip, thinking. “I dunno, I guess I just trusted you had your reasons.”

Zayn laughed. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” Louis ducked his head, embarrassed and more than a little confused with why Zayn was choosing now to wax poetic about their short-lived relationship.

“It’s true that I did think it’d probably be better for us if we were just friends, but that’s only a part of it. Lou, the main reason I broke up with you was Harry.”

Louis’ head jerked back up, his eyes widening. “What?”

Zayn let out a tired sigh. “You really need me to spell it out for you?”

Zayn reached a hand out to Louis, who took it hesitantly.

“I don’t know if you remember, but Harry and I didn’t exactly get on when we first met. At first I thought he was just being protective, you know, watching out for his best friend. I thought it was a bit extreme, but then again the relationship you two had was like nothing I’d ever seen between best friends before, so I shrugged it off. But then I started noticing his face whenever we were together. He’d try his best to close himself off, but he’s a remarkably terrible actor when it comes to his own life, and I realized really quickly that he had feelings for you and that you were oblivious to them. After that, I just couldn’t …” Zayn paused, measuring his words.

“I couldn’t bear to see the pain on Harry’s face whenever he saw us together. And then when I broke things off with you, you were so okay with it. I honestly expected you to put up more of a fight, or at least question my reasoning, because let’s be honest, Lou, it was shallow at best, but you didn’t. You just accepted it and moved on. And that’s when I realized that maybe Harry’s feelings for you weren’t so one-sided.”

Louis flushed, his hand tensing in Zayn’s.

“Though I’m guessing you didn’t actually come to terms with those feelings until recently,” Zayn added.

Louis took a deep breath as his heart hammered in his chest. “But you’re still making some massive assumptions, Z. What if you’re wrong?” Louis could only whisper the last sentence, not even able to make eye contact.

Zayn squeezed Louis’ hand reassuringly. “I guess it’s a good thing he told me himself a few days ago, then.”

Louis blanched, the colour draining from his face. “What?”

“Lou, are you seriously telling me you didn’t question why Harry’s been acting so weird lately? He’s the most even-tempered person we know, and suddenly he’s having all these bouts of moodiness that mysteriously match up with times that other men, like say, Greg, are paying attention to you.”

Zayn wasn’t wrong. Harry was, generally speaking, the most consistent person he knew in terms of temperament, but lately his moods had been erratic. And while Louis hadn’t noticed a connection at the time, there definitely did seem to be a link between Greg’s presence and Harry’s pissiness.

“It’s really only been since the tour started. Before that, things were great. We were great.”

Zayn nodded and continued speaking. “I figured his moods had something to do with Greg, but he didn’t actually come talk to me until the day we had our first gig. You remember how he refused to go to the afterparty?”

Louis frowned, tilting his head in acknowledgement as Zayn kept speaking.

“He said he couldn’t deal with seeing Greg all over you. That he didn’t think he could control his reactions, and he didn’t want to make things harder for himself. After you left, we went back to the hotel and he basically confessed that he’d been in love with you since he was 14 years old. He knew that lashing out at you was wrong, but he didn’t know what to do about it because he was certain you would never feel the same.”

Louis’ pulled his hand out of Zayn’s and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to curl up as much as possible. It hurt – the thought of Harry opening himself up like that because he thought Louis could never love him. So much pain they’d caused themselves and each other because they were both idiots.

“What did you tell him?” Louis inquired, voice quiet.

Zayn gave him a sad look. “I told him to get over you.”

Louis flinched.

“I told him that punishing you and freezing you out when other people showed interest in you wasn’t fair to either of you, and that unless he planned on telling you the truth about his feelings, he had to move on.”

Louis laughed bitterly. “It seems he took your advice. Now it’s too late.”

Zayn shook his head vehemently. “No, Lou, it’s not. Going off with Ashton, that was his way of dealing with everything. He thought you and Greg were on a date, for fuck’s sakes. Don’t blame him for doing what he needed to cope.”

Louis pouted. “But what about Nick bloody Grimshaw?”

Zayn let out a startled laugh. “Oh my god, Louis, what did I just tell you? Harry’s in love with you. Not with Nick. Not with Ashton. With you. Talking to Nick – that was just another way for him to try and move on. Clearly, it didn’t work. I don’t actually think they’ve spoken since the interview.”

Louis couldn’t help the flicker of hope in his chest. “He said he loved me?”

Zayn smiled softly. “No Lou, he said he’s in love with you. You already knew the first bit.”

Louis grinned, and it was the first time he’d genuinely felt happy in days. “I’m such a knob.”

Zayn laughed. “Yes, you are. Now go get your boy.”

***

Louis paused outside of Harry’s door, his stomach dropping. He had an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu, though this time he hoped Harry would be alone. And clothed.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open to reveal Harry pacing tensely by the bed.

His head jerked up at the sound of Louis coming in, his eyes wide.

Louis kept his face carefully blank, not ready to dive right into it, and Harry’s posture sagged as he sank down on the bed.

Louis approached slowly, carefully. He could see that Harry was in agony, but he wasn’t ready for any big gestures just yet.

He sat a few feet away from Harry on the bed, needing the extra space he kept between them as a buffer.

Harry looked desperate to talk, to explain, but Louis needed to talk first.

He needed to be accountable for his own feelings, and he couldn’t do that if Harry apologized and took all of the blame for how they’d gotten there. It wasn’t fair to either of them.

“You know,” Louis began, his voice rough. “I always thought that falling in love with someone was a bit like magic. I thought there’d be this specific moment that just stood out and I’d realize – this is it. This is who I’m supposed to be with. I didn’t expect it to take me completely by surprise. And I really didn’t expect to realize I’m in love after the fact.”

He could Harry’s sharp intake of breath next to him but Louis stared resolutely at his hands as he spoke, terrified to make eye contact.

“I thought there had to be a massive difference between loving someone and being in love. I mean, I’ve loved you my whole life. Surely I’d be able to tell the difference between that and actually, properly falling in love.”

The tension in the room was so thick Louis could barely breathe. It was terrifying, being honest like this. Putting everything out there and hoping to god he wouldn’t be alone.

“I think maybe I didn’t realize that I’d fallen in love with you until now because I always have been. In love with you, I mean. And it might’ve taken me a long time to realize, but it’s always been there.”

Harry was completely still next to him, spellbound by what he was saying, and Louis gathered up the pathetic remnants of what courage he had left.

“But then all this happened, and we can barely talk to each other anymore, and I can’t help but hate myself because I wish I’d realized how I felt sooner.”

Harry bit back a sob next to him and Louis finally summoned the courage to look at him. His eyes were rimmed red, and his arms were wrapped protectively around his torso.

“I wasn’t on a date with Greg. Shit, Haz, he wanted to cheer me up because he saw how miserable I was. And I couldn’t do it. I just wanted you. That’s why I left early. I walked out before we’d even ordered because I wanted to talk to you. I needed to tell you how I felt.”

He held onto Harry’s gaze, forcing himself not to look away. “I needed you to know that I’m in love with you, Haz. I’m so stupidly in love with you. And I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Harry’s eyes welled up at Louis’ words and he turned to face him on the bed.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” Harry admitted, his voice breaking on the last word.

“I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t want you. I didn’t know for sure until that Halloween party, though, back when you were 16, remember? We were at Niall’s house, and you kissed me. I know it didn’t mean anything to you, but god, Lou, that kiss changed my whole life.”

He took a shuddery breath and laughed humourlessly. “I pined after you for years because I was convinced you didn’t feel the same way. I mean, you always had boyfriends and flings and stuff, and you seemed happy. I didn’t … I was fucking terrified of ruining things between us, you know? I couldn’t not have you in my life, even if it meant I’d always be stuck wanting you.”

Louis nodded, trying not to flinch at hearing his own reasoning used against him as Harry kept speaking.

“After Zayn and I talked, I realized I was being pathetic and unfair to you during the tour. You didn’t know how I felt and I was punishing you for it. It was stupid and petty and jealous, and I’m so sorry, Lou.”

“But then why, with Ashton – ” Louis’ tongue tripped over the name, and despite how hard he tried to keep his voice neutral, he could feel the bile in the back of his throat.

Harry flinched, looking utterly miserable.

“Bringing Ashton back to the hotel was a mistake. I was jealous, and I acted out. Fuck, I didn’t even give you a chance to explain, I just jumped to conclusions. I never wanted you to see that, Louis.”

Louis wanted to forgive him, but it still hurt. Harry was right – while they’d both been stupid, he’d been the only one to walk in on Harry having sex with someone else.

“I tried to talk to you. You walked away.” Louis said, his voice breaking.

“You were with Greg – ”

“He’s our producer, Harry! What was I supposed to do, just walk away when he wanted to talk? You never even asked me if I was interested in him! You just assumed!”

And wow, Louis was definitely angrier than he’d realized before. Harry looked miserable, and Louis couldn’t help but think good.

“I know!” Harry cried out, the dam finally breaking as his tears spilled. “I know. And there’s nothing I regret more.”

He hunched into a ball, and Louis felt his anger dissipate.

He moved closer to Harry on the bed, holding his arm out for Harry to duck under. Harry gazed at him, stunned, and hesitantly curled into Louis’ side as Louis dried the tears on his face.

“We can’t keep doing this to each other.” Louis mumbled.

Harry hid his face in Louis’ shirt before speaking, his voice muffled. “I didn’t … with Ashton.”

Louis tensed at the mention of his name, and Harry felt it, looking up with wide eyes full of concern.

“I need you to know that we didn’t have sex. I stopped it before anything could … we still had our pants on and stuff. We were just fooling around before … ” Before he walked in, Louis gathered. Harry flushed but kept speaking. “I don’t think I could have gone through with it even if you hadn’t interrupted. I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons. It didn’t feel right.”

Harry rested his head on Louis’ shoulder and Louis’ tightened his arms around him reflexively.

“I don’t know if that makes you feel better, but I want to be honest with you. I don’t want to fuck this up again. I missed you too much.”

Louis couldn’t help the small smile on his face at Harry’s words, and he bent down to kiss his forehead. Harry met his eyes, a tentative matching smile on his lips. Are we okay? He seemed to be asking. Louis nodded, his eyes warm, and the small smile on Harry’s face burst into a full-on grin. “I love you,” he murmured into Louis’ neck.

Louis tilted Harry’s chin up until the were on eye level, and he sank forward, pulling Harry into a kiss that said everything they’d been hiding from each other. Every I love you, every you’re my favourite person, every I’m so sorry. Every single word they’d kept from each other was expressed in that kiss as Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, molding their bodies together until they fit perfectly.

After a few minutes, Harry pulled away, peppering a bunch of small kisses across Louis’ nose, on his forehead, and finally planting one on his mouth again. “You give me so much shit for being a bad actor, but I’m clearly better than you thought if I was able to hide my feelings from you for so long.”

Louis let out a startled laugh, moving to bite Harry’s ear. “I think that has less to do with your talent and more to do with my own obliviousness, love.”

He cackled in surprise and Louis beamed, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Harry tackled Louis to the bed, his body covering Louis’ completely as he pulled him down into another kiss, this one far more frenzied than before. Louis was so happy he felt like he could burst.

“Love you,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ lips. Louis groaned, tangling his hands in Harry’s hair. “Love you too.” Louis murmured as he nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, causing him to give a startled squawk.

“Heeeey!” he exclaimed, and Louis winked at him. Harry giggled, collapsing on his back next to him, keeping their hands intertwined.

Louis sighed. “So we should probably let Zayn know we worked things out.”

Harry grinned delightedly. “He’s going to call us both idiots and secretly be really happy.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he’s going to hold this over our heads for a long time.”

Louis sat up abruptly, knocking his head against the headboard. Harry looked at him in a panic as Louis burst out laughing.

“What?”

Louis managed to stifle his laughter enough to answer. “We’re going to have to face our mothers now.”

Harry snorted, ruffling Louis’ hair. “I think my mother is slightly more prepared for the news than yours is.”

Louis looked at him curiously. “Oh yeah?”

Harry blushed. “I may have told her I was in love with you and, um, she may have been giving me advice about it?”

Louis grinned, delighted, and plonked himself right in Harry’s lap. “Aw babe, you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

Harry pouted adorably. “Shut up. At least I won’t be the one to have to break the news to your mum.”

Louis frowned, the grin sliding off his face. “Shit.”

Harry pulled him in for another long kiss. “It’s okay. We’ll tell her together.”

Louis kissed him back, his heart full of love and so, so happy. He pulled back after a moment to whisper in Harry’s ear.

“Something tells me she won’t be all that surprised, anyhow.”

***

Despite the overwhelming and near constant desire Louis felt for Harry now that he was allowed to kiss him whenever he wanted, Louis knew that they had to be discreet, at least until they figured out how much they were willing to reveal about their relationship to the public.

“I just want this to be ours, at least for a little bit.” Louis admitted the next morning, wrapped around Harry and gently running his hands through his curls. Harry nodded in agreement, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

“And,” Louis continued, “I haven’t forgotten what you said before about wanting our relationship to be for us, not for the tabloids or our bloody PR firm as a way to boost the ratings. I think it’s probably simplest to just … not say anything. At least at first. Keep acting like we always did.”

Harry laughed softly, his dimples peeking out. “If we’re being honest, Lou, it’s probably not all that different from how we are now. We were pretty coupley without actually being a couple.”

Louis stuck his tongue out at Harry, who grinned and didn’t even hesitate to kiss it. Louis recoiled, horrified. “Haz! How very ungentlemanly of you. I’m appalled.”

Louis made as if to get up from the bed, but Harry draped himself over his back to keep him in place, giggling madly. “Whatever, you love me.”

Louis squinted at him, unable to control the fond look on his face. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He paused, looking up at the ceiling. “Lord knows why.”

“Heeey! Not nice.” Harry pouted at Louis, and it really was just like how they used to be. Only, you know, with more nudity.

Louis smirked as his phone vibrated aggressively on the other side of the room for the eighth time just since they’d woken up.

“We should probably let Zayn known what’s going on,” Louis breathed into Harry’s neck as he kissed his way up towards his face. “It’s a miracle he hasn’t broken down the door yet to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Let’s keep him in suspense a little while longer,” Harry sighed as Louis sucked a lovebite right below his collarbone. “Let’s see how he likes to be the one out of the loop for once.”

Louis grinned, pecking Harry on the lips before shimmying down the bed towards his legs.

“Sounds good to me, love. Now what do you say to a blowjob?”

Harry’s sudden intake of breath and flushed cheeks were clearly answer enough.

***

Their next gig was in Cardiff, and while Louis and Harry had somehow managed to convince Zayn that things were okay between them again without giving him any intimate details, they figured the jig would be up sooner rather than later.

Zayn was being uncharacteristically respectful now, but Louis knew his curiosity was killing him and it was only a matter of time before he forced them to fess up.

Louis and Harry clung to each other all throughout soundcheck, but as Harry had so cheekily pointed out before, it really was no different from how they had interacted when they were just friends. Even so, Louis caught Zayn throwing them confused glances from time to time.

By the time they’d actual gotten up on stage and started their set, the air was thick with sexual tension.

Harry looked good (not that he usually didn’t), but there was something about knowing that underneath his fitted white t-shirt he was covered in bruises and bite marks that made Louis all the more desperate to tear his clothes off as soon as they were alone. Clearly, Harry felt the same way and the romantic undercurrent between them was almost palpable.

Ashton, bless him, hadn’t held a grudge against either Louis or Harry, and other than the occasional amused glance in their direction, had acted like nothing weird had gone on between the three of them the night before.

Zayn was a different story. He watched the looks Harry and Louis exchanged like a hawk, cataloguing every one of Harry’s lip bites and Louis’ flirty eyebrow quirks.

Despite the way his whole body felt like it was on fire, Louis somehow managed to make it through their entire set without throwing himself at Harry and sucking him off onstage.

Harry, it seemed, did not possess nearly the same restraint, and the moment they played the final note of their last song, he turned to Louis, grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him into a passionate kiss in the middle of the stage.

Louis, stunned, felt Harry wrap his arms around him and press their lips together, and while his mind was full of white noise, his body reacted, fisting his hands in Harry’s t-shirt and tugging him closer.

For one, blissful moment, Louis heard nothing but the fireworks going off in his head and his own heartbeat in his ears before the sounds of stunned cheers and whistling from the audience reminded him that they were technically still performing. Louis pulled away a bit, nipping on Harry’s bottom lip as Harry laughed softly enough that only he could hear it.

They heard a loud sound behind them and turned to see Zayn fumbling to hold onto the guitar he’d nearly dropped, his mouth gaping open. Louis shrugged at him in a ‘what can you do?’ kind of way and Zayn beamed at him.

“Fucking finally!” he yelled, and the crowd cheered alongside him. Louis realized that most, if not all of them, had probably heard their interview with Nick Grimshaw and already knew about Louis and Harry’s history.

“And on that note,” Louis cried out, remembering that they should probably wrap up. “Thank you all so much for coming out to our show! We hope you enjoyed it, and remember that the season premiere of Up All Night starts next month!”

He turned to face Harry and dropped down in a dramatic bow. Harry curtsied in response, and they linked arms, walking offstage together.

Zayn followed shortly thereafter, launching himself at them and pulling them into an awkward, sweaty embrace.

“You fuckers! Why didn’t you tell me sooner!”

Harry grinned. “Only seemed fair after all the secrets you’ve been keeping from us.” Zayn’s mouth opened as if to argue when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder and all three of them turned around to see Liam standing behind him, a sheepish grin on his face.

Zayn’s face lit up like a little kid at Christmas and he launched himself into Liam’s arms. Liam flushed, a matching grin on his own face as Zayn clung to him.

“You bastard! You said you weren’t coming.”

Liam tightened his grip around Zayn’s shoulders. “I may have lied. Thought it’d be proper romantic this way, surprising you and all.”

Zayn rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite suppress the fondness in his gaze. “Whatever. I’m glad you’re here.”

Liam kissed him gently before settling an arm around his waist. “Me too. Can’t imagine what I’d have done had I missed those two practically dry humping each other onstage.”

Harry and Louis, who had been wrapped up in their own little bubble, tuned back into the conversation.

“It wasn’t nearly as bad as that,” Harry muttered, standing behind Louis and resting his head on his shoulder.

Liam laughed. “To be fair, considering how adamantly Zayn kept insisting you two were just friends, it was definitely more than I ever expected to see.”

Louis and Harry exchanged a look.

“Fair enough,” Louis agreed before grabbing the front of Harry’s t-shirt and pulling him in for a breathtaking snog. Harry returned the kiss eagerly, his large hands wrapping around Louis’ back and pulling him closer.

They both tuned out the sounds of Zayn groaning behind them, muttering something along them lines of ‘please god don’t be one of those couples I can’t take it’ as Liam laughed, consolingly rubbing his back.

Louis refused to be made to feel guilty for kissing Harry. They had years of making out to make up for, after all.

                                                                                       ____________________________________________________

Epilogue

Harry woke up rather abruptly to the feeling of Louis’ sharp elbow jabbing him in the kidney.

His eyes flew open and he rolled away from his boyfriend with a groan, clutching his injured side. Louis, it seemed, was in the middle of a particularly dramatic dream and Harry was the unfortunate hapless bystander. Bysleeper, really.

He stared at Louis for a long moment, waiting to see if he’d wake up as he sometimes did after a particularly intense bout of dream induced flailing, but other than making a soft snuffling sound he was finally laying still on the bed.

Harry ran his hand softly up Louis’ arm and then ruffled his hair gently, trying not to be too annoyed that he was the only one awake right now.

He shuffled into the kitchen to put the kettle on, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again.

His eyes landed on the clock on the stove. 6:00 am, apparently. Well, at least he’d gotten a solid 5 hours of sleep before Louis had elbowed him awake.

As the water in the kettle boiled, Harry grabbed his laptop from the couch, settling it on the table in front of him.

The first episode of their show had premiered the previous night, and while the reception on social media had been fantastic, they wouldn’t know the final numbers until the following morning. Which, Harry realized with a jolt, was right now.

He and Louis had promised each other they’d look at the ratings together, and as tempting as it was for Harry to take a quick peek, he closed the laptop firmly and got up to start making the tea.

Despite being solid in the knowledge that it was out of their hands now – that they’d gone on an actual tour to promote the show and that fan shot video of their kiss had wracked up over 3 million views on YouTube and had left their show swimming in more positive PR than the producers had ever dreamed of – Harry was still nervous.

He poured the water into two mugs, adding a generous scoop of sugar to his and leaving Louis’ black (“I’m a tea purist, Haz, I’m not going to pollute it with sugar and cream and whatever other useless extras you dump in yours”) before ambling back to the table. He knew Louis would be up soon, anyhow. Neither of them slept very well without the other anymore.

Like clockwork, Louis wandered out of their bedroom 15 minutes later, his hair sticking up adorably at the back as he rubbed his eyes, reminding Harry of a sweet little kitten. Then his eyes landed on the clock.

“Fucking hell.”

So not so much like a kitten, after all, Harry thought in amusement as Louis shot him an accusing look.

“Why. The hell. Are we awake. At six o’clock in the bloody morning?” Louis looked genuinely concerned, and Harry did his best to bite back the grin threatening to overtake his face.

“Because, my love, you were dreaming and elbowed me awake and I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

Louis had the decency to look embarrassed. “’M sorry, Hazzababe. Want me to kiss it better?”

Harry rolled his eyes but gestured for Louis to walk towards him anyhow. Once he was within touching distance, Louis (gently) pushed Harry down onto the couch and snuggled on top of him, kissing everywhere he could reach: his neck, his face, his shoulder, his hair.

Harry giggled, pushing at him, but Louis continued, apologizing softly as he went. Finally, Louis pulled away, leaving a final tiny kiss on Harry’s lips.

“All better?”

Harry grinned. “Much. Also, your tea’s on the table.” Louis whooped like an actual child and shuffled over to grab his tea, holding the oversized mug firmly in his tiny hands.

“Knew I put up with you for a reason.”

Harry joined him at the table, letting the comment slide as he opened the laptop. Louis’ eyes widened as the significance hit him, gently setting his mug back down on the tabletop.

“Right, the ratings are out today.” The colour had drained a bit from Louis’ face, and though he was putting on a confident front, Harry could see how anxious he was underneath it all.

He reached over and took Louis’ hand in his, squeezing gently. “It’ll be great, Lou. We already know the reviewers loved us, no reason for the ratings not to reflect that.”

Louis smiled, but Harry could still see how nervous he was. He gently pulled Louis over towards him, making room for him on the chair. They squeezed in tight next to each other, squinting at the screen as Harry logged into his email.

They were both silent as they stared at the screen, soaking in as much information from the producer’s message as they could understand. What it came down to was this: the episode had been the highest rated show in their demographic, and was the second most viewed program of that whole night. Basically, it was a massive success.

Harry and Louis stared at each other, stunned, and then Louis leapt into Harry’s arms, kissing him senseless.

“Oh my god,” Louis finally said after Harry put him back down. “We did it. We’re actual proper television stars on an actual proper television series.”

Harry beamed at him, wanting nothing more than to keep holding onto each other but knowing that both of their mothers would be eagerly awaiting the news.

“We did it, Lou.” Harry echoed, and he was pretty sure his smile was permanently etched on his face. Louis grinned so wide his eyes crinkled, and Harry, not for the first time, couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Louis stepped forward and wrapped him in a warm hug, his body tucked neatly into Harry’s like it belonged there, and as Harry pressed a kiss to Louis’ temple, he knew that no matter how much their relationship had evolved over the past few months, the way they were made to fit perfectly together was one thing that would never change.