Archive of Our Own ^beta

He didn’t mean to be this late. He didn’t even mean to be late at all. In fact, he meant to be early. This is his first day of proper university, his first day of something bigger than high school and community college with burnt out peers. Today is supposed to be his first day of becoming a successful young adult, something Louis Tomlinson really wants to be, but it's hard when no one seems to share his sense of urgency this morning.

He rushes towards the direction of his classroom, bumping shoulders with some kid while passing. He opens his mouth to excuse the kid, but the universe decides to let him choke on something instead. He starts hacking it up while he's running, getting his double cardio in for the day. He's choking on maybe a bug, maybe thick air, but he doesn’t know and doesn't particularly care. It could just be his nerves. He's known to get a case of those every once in a while when he builds something up for himself--makes himself believe everything rests on one moment or decision. However, it's not without premise. University is known to make even strongest of men cry.

He makes it to his class with sixteen seconds to spare, and congratulates himself on his decision to skip breakfast and brushing his teeth in favor of chewing three pieces of gum. Bless his critical reasoning skills, really.

Opening the door, he sees the desks set up in pairs, with only a single empty seat left in the second row. He's honestly never been the best student, but at least he may actually pay attention now, what with being so close to the board. Yes, I can totally do this adult thing. He rushes to sit down, slightly jostling the kid next to him in his hurry not to be late.He's heard horror stories about professors chewing students out if they’re standing when class starts. Albeit, they may be far fetched, but never say he’s not a god-fearing man.

“Oops,” the kid mutters, hand jerking when he messes up his drawing of cat whiskers. And when Louis puts a face to the words, he’s mesmerized. All at once, the horrible puns and pick up lines he's heard of and, okay, maybe even used when he gets slightly past tipsy, come to life. He has huge, green frog eyes with delicate eyelashes that Louis wants to braid. His skin looks sun-kissed from the summer heat, and he's wearing a surfer style beanie to pull his hair back, indirectly showing off his face. This kid is an angel. He's more than a 10. He's so hot that Louis needs a band aid because he's falling. It’s people like this boy that make him believe beauty is not only in books and exotic forests, but before him as well. Beautiful boys like this don’t normally waltz into his life and stay there, but Louis would let him waltz wherever he liked.

And, despite his greatest wishes, he can’t just stare at him while class is in session for the next two hours. So he introduces himself to the boy, hoping he comes off like a smooth Leo rather than a dazed Kardashian.

"Hi. Um, sorry about that. I don't know what's going on. I’m usually more coordinated, I swear." Louis fusses his bangs and tries to give the boy his most charming grin, but he knows it's not working properly. He's too stiff and distracted. His heart beating too fast and uneven. All he wants to do is caress the boy’s face and probably touch his hair, too. Curls. What a gift. This specimen here is probably why he’s attracted to boys.

To Louis’ amazement, Curly barks out a hoarse laugh before politely covering his mouth, cat whisker doodle seemingly forgotten. His eyes are still sparkling as he pulls something from his bag and hands it to Louis. "It's alright, mate. This is for you." His voice is as deep as the Pacific Ocean, I wanna be yours.

Louis refrains from serenading the boy right here and now. He instead looks down at the offering, completely thrown off by it. “This is a… Disney princess sticker?”

“Yeah, I like ‘em. Besides, you look like you’ve had a rough morning and... I don’t know. If I was having a rough morning and a stranger gave me an Ariel sticker before my first class, I would be pretty thrilled,” he shrugs. Honestly, he could be Ariel. Louis would definitely buy a sticker with his face on it: It’s definitely the luxurious hair and ethereal face.

The conversations in the room ebb until silence takes over as the professor stands from behind his desk. If Louis spared a moment to recognize him, he would see the professor doesn't look like the type to make students cry. But, as it is, He can’t stop staring at Ariel as he turns to face the front of the room, a blatant invitation to admire his nose. Put it to the test and Louis is convinced his side profile alone could win the Miss America pageant. It's most definitely won Louis’ heart.

“I’m Louis,” he whispers as he places the sticker on the front of his notebook, “and quite frankly, Peter Pan is my favorite Disney movie. I tried to run away to Neverland at least four times when I was younger."

“I’m Harry,” the boy whispers back thickly. “The Little Mermaid is mine. My sister convinced me I was a merman when I was eight.”

He wants to snicker, but he can't help the way his heart melts. He gave him a sticker of his favorite Disney princess on their first day of university. Harry is an actual angel, too good for this cruel world. Louis can't help his googly eyes.

Their professor starts speaking and Louis knows he should be listening, knows he’s in the front and has the chance to pass this class, but how can he look at the board when he could be repeatedly glancing at Harry? It's like a magnetic field. He can’t just pass up on this opportunity, and he can't just physically stop looking. It's creepy, he knows, but he can't help the basic scientific fact that cute boys deserve to be adored and looked at. Not when Harry is so focused and his hands are so appealing and dexterous and fucking nimble as he takes his notes. Of course Harry would pay attention, of course he would have a pink pencil, and of course Louis would end up sitting here so he can fail the class due to a boy.

Louis gazes back up at the board, actually wondering how he ended up here, next to Harry of all people. Why wasn’t there anyone sitting here before? Did Harry promise to brutally murder anyone who invaded his space? Granted, he gave Louis a bloody sticker, but that could just be a decoy. Serial killers make their victims trust them before they kill them. He eyes Harry again, a little suspiciously. But, alas, he's too innocent-looking to be a serial killer. He seems like a wonderful person. Did Harry do something odd, is he some kind of horse-laughing freak, is it just because he sat near the front? Or, in Louis’ case, did he intimidate everyone else with his beauty? It seems like a pretty possible answer. He accepts it as fact and decides to start paying attention--a half-hearted effort at studying calculus rather than Harry's face.

Midway through class he finds himself gazing at Harry's face again when he catches him staring. He smiles before turning back to his own notebook. Louis melts a little despite his blood coursing through his body with intimidation. He accidently spends the whole class alternating between watching Harry’s hands and considering taking notes of his own from the board.

-

Louis throws his keys on the chipped wooden dining table before waltzing into his best friend’s dark bedroom.

“Zayn!” Louis hops onto his bed, shuffling around on his knees until he sees a Zayn-shaped lump beginning to move.

“Louis, ugh, go away. Stop.” A voice mumbles into the pillow.

Louis takes that as a cue to make himself at home. He calms, perching s applesauce style atop Zayn's ankle in order to hold him hostage.

“No, Zayn, listen. There’s this kid. Well, a boy. A most-likely freshman boy. And if you don't give me your full attention right now, I promise it'll take you weeks to drag this out of me."

Zayn rolls over and squints his eyes open, accepting defeat. Propping himself up on his elbows and scratching his perfect, bare torso, he nods for Louis to continue. He’s always there for him during tough times, even if he doesn’t want to be. Louis loves him and his logic dearly. Louis also loves getting his way.

“He’s in my math class and I was running late. I choked on air, by the way. You’re lucky I’m alive.”

“If only you would’ve kept choking,” Zayn mutters, rubbing his face. Louis chooses not to press the issue.

“Okay, rude. But I made it to class and sat next to him, but it was weird that no one was already sitting next to him. He’s so pretty and his name is Harry and I don’t know what we did in class because I spent all of it watching him take notes. The way he holds his pencil should be illegal. He has very large hands.”

Zayn snorts, letting out a big breath. “Okay, tip one: ask him for his notes. You didn’t take any and it’ll give you the opportunity to talk to him. So, you're welcome.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because. He gave me an Ariel sticker. He wanted to make me feel better and I bet he’s smart and great at everything, and I might want to get to know him, but I’m not nearly as smart or as perfect as him and I’m not worthy. He's probably an actual angel."

Zayn’s expression shift from annoyed to understanding. He remembers when they were thirteen and Louis’ biggest doubt about himself was his worthiness. “Louis, please. You’re so worthy. You deserve nice boys and all the Ariel stickers in the world, babes. It sounds like you apparently have a sticker kink, so please, talk to him. Just say ‘hi’ and be charming. But, you really should get his notes and start taking your own as well. Please don’t fail the class.”

Louis stands up, nodding to himself. “Okay, well, wow, that’s simple. But yeah, that could work. I guess. I could do that. I can be charming. I am charming. I am the most charming of them all!”

"Wait." Louis turns back from the door to face Zayn, waiting for him to continue. “Since I’m awake, how are you feeling? From, you know, last night?”

Louis knew he wasn’t going to get off that easily. Zayn never forgets anything. “I’m okay,” Louis says slowly. “I’d feel better if I could help or maybe pay for my own fucking things, but. I’ll pay her back and it’ll be okay.”

And memories from the phone call last night with his mother flood back. She called him wondering how he was and saying she missed him. It was nice to hear her voice again, but something was off. He could practically feel her tears behind her words. They talked about the simple things, like his younger sisters and how Zayn and Liam were holding up. It took some time but he finally got it out of her that they were short on money this month, and the oldest of his sisters wanted a pair of boots that all of the other girls in her class had. He snorted a little, remembering when fashion trends were important to him. And he remembered when he got teased for his colored skinny jeans, and understood why the boots were important. His schoolmates jumped on anything that looked different.

His mom can’t afford the shoes, and she told him she feels guilty for not having enough. She knows Lottie understands why she can’t have them, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting them.

Although she didn’t say, the guilt weighed on Louis because he knows they’re short on money because of him. Books were expensive and the student loans weren’t nearly enough to cover all of his materials. He’ll pay her back when he gets a job, sure, but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re short on money because of him. And he’s guilty.

Zayn reels him back to the present. “You’re not going to sell your soul for some college books you’ll use five times max. Louis, you’re doing all you can and she knows this. She loves you.”

Louis shifts back and forth. He still gets uncomfortable talking to Zayn about his feelings. He prefers the event late at night when they can cuddle in a position where Zayn can pretend not to see Louis cry.

“I know, but... I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Alright. If you say so. But you know I’m always here for you, right?”

Louis nods before watching Zayn roll onto his side and pull his red flannel sheets up to his neck. “Okay, well. Thanks for interrupting my sleep, you wanker. Have a great day and good luck with Pretty Freshman Boy."

Louis almost gets up to leave, but he's honestly not quite done bothering Zayn yet.

“Wait, where’s Liam? Has he ever taken Calculus? Did he save his tests or notes or remember finals...?”

Louis clings to the hope of Zayn’s boyfriend saving him. Liam’s always helpful.

“He’s at practice. He left me in bed, that fucker, and no. What the hell? He’s an English major. No, Louis, he didn’t take high level math.”

“Okay,” Louis raises his hands as he finally backs out of the darkened room. “Sorry. I meant no harm. I’m leaving now. Go back to your nap, no need to get angry.”

Louis shuts the door gently behind him. He loves Zayn. When he’s not trying to hate Louis, he’s a really good friend. They’ve been close since they were eight when some older kid tried to pick on Zayn’s accent and Louis made the kid’s ear bleed by throwing a rock at him. Zayn’s been with him through it all, both of their parents’ break-ups and all of their late night ice cream runs. They went through puberty together with the price being a lifetime bond. Platonic, of course. Louis loves Zayn but it’ll never be like that. Louis is meant for other people. People who are friendly and smart and hand out themed stickers like first grade teachers.

-

Harry sits with his laptop on his dorm bed, definitely not working on making The Little Mermaid his blog’s new aesthetic. If he could just find that photo of him in a red bikini top to set as his avatar, and he would be set. He closes his eyes and leans back against his wall. The dorm bed isn’t as comfortable as he imagined it to be, and the room itself smells like old socks and lube tubes. Harry lit a Salted Caramel candle about an hour ago; hopefully Niall appreciates it.

He’s pointing and flexing his socked feet and admiring what a nice job he did stringing up his Christmas lights when Niall bursts through the doorway.

Niall stops immediately, looking around a bit. Harry almost thinks he hates it, but, “Wow. You’re domestic as fuck. I love this room.”

Harry grins. “Thanks. I was worried but nevermind. How was your first day?”

“Great,” Niall ambles further into the room and sits on his own bed, leaning against the wall so he’s facing Harry. “It was really good. I love uni and my classes aren’t even that hard. They’re actually interesting. I had one class this morning and do you know what we did? We sat around and showed each other our favorite songs. I get to listen to music for two hours and I get graded on it. Damn.” Niall beams, stretching his arms behind his head. “What about you? How was your day? You had one class this morning, right?”

“I did. It was amazing. I love that class.”

“That's amazing! I don't know anyone who actually likes math. So that’s cool.”

“I guess I like math, but that's not it,” Harry shrugs.

Niall gives him an interested look. Harry releases a long exhale through his nose clear his mind.

“Okay, I met this boy. He came in right before class started so I didn’t get to properly talk to him, but he sat next to me and I gave him an Ariel sticker and he put it on his notebook and it was really pretty. He was really pretty. But he also wouldn’t talk to me. He just kept staring and he didn’t take a single note the entire time. Do you think he’s okay? Maybe his hands are broken. Maybe I smell.” Harry wrinkles his nose up in distaste at the thought of himself smelling bad. No one wants to talk to a smelly kid.

“You literally lit a candle in our room that smells like caramel orgasms. I doubt you smell bad on a regular basis.” And Harry’s only known him for three days, but already Niall's the voice of reason in Harry’s life. “He probably wants to date you and doesn’t know what to do.”

Harry smiles dumbly. “Shut up.”

Niall throws a t-shirt at him. “No, listen, he’s awed by your beauty,” he chuckles.

Harry rolls his eyes at the response. “I met a hot guy today, too, at practice. They were all hot, actually. Yeah," Niall dreamily stares into the distance. "Waking up at seven just to practice rowing sucks ass, but I don’t think it’ll be too bad if I get to look at hot boys while doing it.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise on their own. “You’re gay?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, as if he talks about hot boys all the time. “However, I do appreciate beauty when I see it. And let me tell you, those boys are beautiful.”

Harry nods in agreement. He likes Niall, likes his attitude. He’s grateful he got put with such an open roommate. He’s heard horror stories about rooming with a drug dealer or a homophobe. He’s just happy he appreciates his candle.

Niall stands up and stretches his back. “Hey, want to get food? I’m fucking starving and I bought myself a meal plan, so. Might as well use it.”

Harry mirrors the action and grabs a beanie from his desk. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we’ll see one of your hot boys,” he teases.

“Shut the fuck up, Styles. This is the last time I’ll try to appreciate beauty with you.”

-

Louis arrives at class fairly early the next day, and he is prepared for war. He’s on a mission, a charming mission, and so far he's done everything right. He set two alarms, he ate his allotted Wheaties, and he brushed his teeth. He wore his ‘have a nice day’ t-shirt and his tightest (yet still comfortable) pair of black jeans for good luck. Honestly, he’s a little disappointed class happens while sitting down. Maybe he can find an excuse to get up in the middle of the lesson with hopes Harry will acknowledge his glorious ass and then propose coffee or dates or a plan for mutual caring orgasms with feelings.

Everyone's always said Louis dreams big, but Louis knows it’s just healthy to have goals.

He shifts around uncomfortably in his seat and tries not to look like he’s waiting for something or someone. Because, well, he’s not. He’s just here for class. Just here to learn some math with the book his mom bought for him. Louis lets out a sad little breath at that thought. Louis knows Zayn is right though. His mom loves him. He just wants to prove he’s an adult who can pay for his own things.

Moving out was a tough decision to make. He really wants to live his life and focus on himself rather than all of his younger siblings. He loves them, but he’s never had time for solely him, really. He’s always been looking after and caring for them. Never himself. So he’s glad he ended up moving out and away from home; it feels like he’s advancing and bettering his life by leaving that shitty town behind him. He wants to be with his family, yes, but just feels better at this point in his life to… not be with them. He hasn’t yet decided if that makes him a shitty person or not.

When Harry (whom Louis definitely isn't waiting for) isn’t there within the next two minutes, he pulls out his phone and begins playing Flappy Bird, aiming to beat his high score of 287 to pass the time. He concentrates, and goes hard for a good 275 taps, but then a figure nears him with a “hi.” Louis' eyes shoot up, losing his flappy bird to a pillar. He tries not to look too disappointed.

“I’m so sorry! Was that Flappy Bird?” Harry looks genuinely upset about the possibility of distracting him from his game. His eyes widen comically as if Louis is going to yell at him. Which he’s not going to, obviously. Louis doesn’t know much about math, but he does know only a heartless bitch could ever yell at Harry.

“No no, it’s okay. It’s fine, Harry. I don’t care. It’s just a dumb game. Like, I actually hate it. I was just bored. Stop Flappy Bird 2015,” Louis jokes as he locks the phone and slides it in his back pocket. Harry calms down with the reassurance that Louis isn’t actually upset, nodding as he pulls out his notebook. However, Louis doesn’t want this to turn into some awkward ‘hi, we just sit by each other, we’re not actually friends’ type of thing, so he decides to take Zayn’s advice. Anything, really, to talk to Harry.

“Hey, Harry, I actually have a favor to ask.” Louis pivots his head to face him and licks his bottom lip.

“Yeah?” Harry turns towards Louis, his finger scratching the corner of his eye. Louis means to keep talking, but he forgets. He stares. Harry begins to play with his lip, rolling it lazily in between his thumb and middle finger as he waits for him to continue. Louis realizes he’s been focused on Harry’s hands for much too long, and he slightly panics.

“Your hands are really nice,” he word vomits. And then goes to bury his face in his hands to hide his blush. “Wait. That’s not what I meant. No, they are nice, but I meant strong. Your hands look very strong and lumberjack-ish. In a good way.”

Damn Harry for having this affect on him. Maybe the professor will start class now or the floor will open up in flames. Louis waits a couple beats, holding his breath, but nothing happens. Harry stops looking taken back and starts to smirk.

“You must be really good with clay and like molding things,” Louis says shakily.

Harry’s smirk deepens. And so do Louis’ cover ups. “You’re in ceramics, right?”

“No,” Harry continues to smirk like the dumb pretty boy he is. “I’m not in ceramics. However, I have been told I’m good with my hands.”

Louis dies a little.

Harry winks, finally opening his notebook as the professor begins. Louis faces front, trying to hide his embarrassment. All he wanted was some notes and a nice conversation with pretty Harry, yet all he got was shamed and slightly aroused.

-

When Louis finally accepts his shame for what it is (an opportunity to unshame himself), class is almost over. He’s spent it successfully taking half a page of notes he doesn’t understand and willing his nerves to disappear. He knows he needs to act fast.

Louis looks great, the world just has to recognize that fact. And by the world, he means Harry. He needs to get Harry to recognize his attractiveness and then everything will make sense again. So, time to activate part one of his ‘Get Harry’ plan.

First, he must remove his phone from his back pocket in order to make his ass(ets) visible. Second, he must gain Harry’s undivided, lustful attention when he stands; must make sure he’s watching the show. Third, he must get up and walk like he wants to get laid, like his life depends on getting laid. Then, he’ll act like he’s doing something important somewhere before returning to his seat. He thinks it through, visualizing, and he is prepared.    

Quietly and unnoticably, Louis slides his phone out of his pocket, laying it on the corner of his desk closest to Harry. He sets his pencil down on top of his useless notes and stands. Naturally, he bends over just very very slightly when his back is facing Harry, just to catch that undivided, lustful attention all the boys want. He then starts his walk to the back of the room, swaying his hips a more than usual and working the classroom like a runway. Louis is in the zone. He feels good, feels hot, and chances a sly glance back over his shoulder at Harry.

Harry is not so discretely staring. He’s not even pretending to pay attention to the teacher. It’s glorious, the way his eyes are zoned in on Louis' backside with his lips loose and soft, perfect teeth nibbling the bottom one. Louis might cry, it's so beautiful. Mission fucking accomplished. He twists his head back around and beams. He continues on his stroll to the back of the room, where he pulls a tack out of the wall (important business) and heads towards his seat. He notices Harry’s facing forward, the picture of innocence with his lovely hands taking notes once more.

He obviously didn’t think I saw him staring. But I did see him and he was, so. I win.

Louis sits down and clears his throat, pretending to be subtle. Now that it’s been established Louis is king of catwalks, he wants Harry to recognize the fact as well. Don't ever let anyone say Louis doesn't know the definition of validation.

Harry does turn towards Louis, but with a small smile. Which is not the facial expression Louis was expecting from someone who just realized they want to date, and possibly bang, their Calculus partner. “Your phone went off while you were prancing around. Might want to check your texts.”

Harry’s smile grows. Louis doesn't trust that look. He glances down at his phone.

From: Zayn.

hey how r u mr. charming?? did u suk that freshmans dick yet becz ive heard calc can lead to tru love lol haha :-)

Well shit. Harry definitely saw that. He has every reason to think Louis is creepy and avoid him for the rest of forever. Louis might as well just leave the room; what's the point in staying? He’s honestly been through enough emotional trauma today, why prolong the inevitable of Harry telling Louis he’s not interested? Louis sees no point in that. He needs to get out yo save himself.

He doesn’t look at Harry for the rest of the class (even when he can feel him glancing at him, and that takes willpower, ladies and gentlemen). Louis leaves rather quickly after class is dismissed, hoping if Harry cares at all then he'll understand Louis isn't being rude of trying to snub him. Louis' just being self-preserving.

-

"So then he gets up in the middle of class, right? And he starts strutting around like he’s on a catwalk, and his hips! You can't even imagine. They were just... full and perfect and damn, Niall!

He nods, a French fry caught between his lips. Harry leans further over the table, continuing without a pause. "His body is just amazing. Like, his ass is amazing and round and his waist is perfect, too. He's just really pleasant to look at in a hot way."

"Boys are everything," Niall agrees. "Did you know I saw five shirtless boys today at practice? They all had Hollister abs, like, damn."

"Okay... if you ever need to talk to me about anything you can. You know that, right? I'm here for you, pal."

Niall rolls his eyes. "Harry. I’m not gay, okay? This is... It's like going to a museum. Just because you like the art doesn't mean you are art."

"Hey,” Harry says, rolling out the ‘ey’ way too long, “I used to work in a bakery my senior year and I was friends with this grandmother there, her name’s Barbara, and she always told me I looked like a piece of art.”

Niall rolls his eyes.

“Anyway, I wasn’t done with my story. So he’s strutting around the room like his life depends on it, right? It was glorious. But, he left his phone on his desk where I could conveniently see it, and he gets a text. Wanna know what it said?”

Niall slams his hands on the table, standing up abruptly. “You read it? Harry, you privacy invader! I don’t feel comfortable rooming with you anymore. I’m requesting out. I'm out. Consider our friendship over!"

“Niall, literally, shut up. Sit back down. You’re such a child. You would’ve read it, too.”

“Okay, true. But that’s not the point.” He still sits back down, returning to his fries. “What’d it say?”

“It said, and I fucking kid you not, ‘Hey. How are you, Mr. Charming? Did you suck that freshman’s dick yet? I’ve heard Calculus can lead to true love.’ Like, what the hell, right? Do you think it was about me?”

“No, I think it was about the other freshman who Louis talks to in his Calculus class,” Niall snorts.

Harry gives him a puzzling look. One day he might catch onto sarcasm; until then, Niall picks up a fry with a sigh. “Yes, you dork. I think it was definitely about you.”

Harry throws his hands up to shield himself. “Hey, don’t throw fries at me! This is a serious matter.”

“No, it’s simple. You guys are both hot and you’re gonna date. If you wanna know what a serious matter is, then let’s talk about the fact that there aren’t any cookies made with real sugar he- Harry. Oh my gosh, Harry!”

Harry swivels his head around. “What? Stop whisper yelling. You’re so weird.”

“No, Harry, I just saw one of the boys from rowing and he’s with his friends. Do you think if they sit with us I’ll get abs too?”

“Honestly, if you’d just stop eating fries and try some juices once in a while, then-”

“Liam!” Niall waves over his shoulder. “Hey, Liam!” With satisfaction across his face he whispers to Harry, “They’re coming over here, is that cool?”

Harry nods in affirmation as two absolutely beautiful boys sit down across from him, their friend standing at the end of the table, waiting. Harry glances to invite him to sit down, and it’s Louis, looking scared and also a little embarrassed.

“This is Liam,” Niall says, pointing to the boy with a buzz cut and defined shoulders sitting closest to him, “and Liam’s friends.” He waves his hands around to include the boy next to Liam and Louis.

“Lads, this is Harry.”

Harry smiles at Liam, trying to not look at Louis for fear he’ll humiliate himself. The model next to Liam grins at him like something’s funny.

“Guys, this is Niall from the rowing team. Niall, this is my boyfriend, Zayn, and our friend, Louis,” Liam says.

“Nice to meet ya,” Niall grins warmly, like he really is pleased. Which, knowing Niall, he probably is sincerely delighted. He turns his attention to Louis. “It’s okay if you want to sit down, Harry won’t bite. He’s actually pretty innocent. You should see all of the Christmas lights up in our dorm right now, thanks to him. It’s pretty as fuck.”

Louis smiles at Harry with a small “Hi,” before sitting down next to him.

“Hi,” Harry practically whispers back. He can’t help but feel like he’s telling a dumb secret to a pretty dumb boy.

“You two know each other?” Liam asks.

“Um, yeah,” Louis replies. "We have a class together.”

“Ohhhh,” Zayn smirks, at the same time Niall says, “How interesting. Harry, is this Louis Louis? As in the Louis we were just ta-”

Harry kicks him from under the table. “No Niall,” he says, choking up a strained laugh, “that’s not what we were just talking about.”

“Okay then, crazypants. Whatever you say.” He eats another fry to hide his smirk.

Harry glances at Zayn, who looks too amused for this situation to be just what it is. He opens his mouth to speak. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Harry. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

Zayn jumps out of his seat a little, whispering. “Ow, Lewis, stop kicking me.”

“What’s going on? What am I missing? Why is everyone kicking each other?" Liam looks thoroughly disoriented as Niall giggles again, covering it up by turning it into a wheeze.

“Nothing, babe. Nothing’s going on.” Zayn reaches over and squeezes Liam’s hand, faking a sniffle.  “Our little Louis is just growing up so fast.”

Louis stirs uncomfortably in his seat.

“Ha, ha. You’re so funny, Zayn. I just love your sense of humor,” Louis mocks, and he will not blush right now. He just won’t allow his body to do this. He hates his friends. “How about Liam, tell Niall about how annoying you and Zayn are.”

“Oh yeah, how long have you guys been together?” Niall asks, seemingly fascinated.

“About three years,” Zayn and Liam smile at each other. “We met through Louis, actually. He dragged Zayn to this house party my best friend was throwing. I was drunk for our first conversation, kept asking him what country he was prince of and he played along, obviously. Got me convinced he was the Prince of Arabia and that Louis was his bodyguard. It was awful, but I got his number in the end and apologized the next day for being a dumbass.”

“They’re awful. I hate them,” Louis whispers to Harry as the two of them keep rambling about themselves. “Sometimes they think I’m their child." Louis rolls his eyes. "Wanna know a secret, though?"

Harry nods eagerly and Louis feels the warm."They’re such a couple and I pretend to be disgusted, but really, I’m just jealous. They’re great together,” He says, peering up at Harry from under his lashes.

“Goals,” Harry agrees, smiling and looking Louis straight in the eye. Louis almost stops breathing, imagining them potentially together in the future. They’d do coupley things like Zayn and Liam, only they’d be cooler and look better while doing them. They could share their food and feelings and beds. They could go out on Valentine’s Day and eat ice cream together. He bets Harry would look really cute if he dotted ice cream on his nose. And then licked it off and ate him out.

They don’t break eye contact until someone clears their throat, pulling them away from each other. The other three are staring at them, unamused, until Niall finally says, “You know, Louis, this has been a very bad first impression.”

“Niall!” Harry defends.

“No, listen. You guys come to our table to sit down and all you do is stare at Harry. Like, I exist, too.”

And now he’s pouting. Harry thinks he’s the most ridiculous person he’s ever met.

“Also, I need Harry’s attention. Gotta talk to my boy.”

Louis is sitting there speechless and a little afraid. Some kind of distilled feeling settles in his stomach, his heart pounding in his chest. Those words are too possessive for platonic. Are they?

Liam, Zayn, and Harry seem to have the same thought. Niall realizes everyone is staring at him and quickly jumps to explain.

“I’m kidding! I’m trying to be friendly. Do I blame you for gawking at Harry? Nooooo. I do the same thing all the time. How could you not? He’s gorgeous.” Niall reaches over and grabs Harry’s cheeks, but is quickly swatted away.

Louis still doesn’t know, can’t decide.

“Please,” Harry announces, “excuse Niall. He’s recently had a gay awakening and doesn’t know how to handle himself right now.”

“I remember when I had mine…” Liam mutters. “Band camp. Freshman year. He played the saxophone…”

“Okay Payno,” Louis clears his throat to gather himself. Harry’s best friend is only kidding. He doesn’t hate Louis, he doesn’t think. “Let’s not get too reminiscent tonight.”

“Shut it, Tommo. I have so much dirt on you,” Liam raises his eyebrows in challenge.

“I’d like to know some stories,” Harry pipes up. “I’ll trade you for ones of Niall.”

“Hey!” Niall retorts. “That first night when we got drunk and told each other secrets, that was real bro stuff. You can’t just share real bro stuff like that. Real bro stuff isn’t for trading, it’s for life bonds. That’s it. We’re leaving! Let’s go Harry, these people are a bad influence on you.”

Niall stands up, pretending he’s angry while Liam chuckles under his breath.

“Bye, see you tomorrow,” Harry smiles at Louis. “It was nice to meet you guys. Sorry Niall’s like this,” he says to Liam and Zayn.

“Hey! I can hear you, Styles! Quit talking shit and let’s move!” Niall calls from across the cafeteria.

Harry sends Louis one more smile before getting up and following Niall. Louis does not watch his cute little butt as he walks away, only he totally does.

He turns back to the table once Harry’s out of sight, only to see his friends watching him.

“What? God, stop looking at me like that. Stop it,” Louis huffs. Zayn lets his real smile spread across his face, where his eyes get all squinty because he’s just grinning so big and Louis can’t take it anymore.

“Fine. Okay, yes. That was Harry. He gave me a sticker on the first day of class and he’s lovely and absolutely perfect. He’s heaven and I want to date him and maybe spend Valentine’s Day with him.” Louis throws up his hands. “What do you want from me?”

“Louis, no, it’s just funny.”

“Excuse you, this situation is not funny.”

“What Liam’s trying to say is it’s funny to see you go after someone like this,” Zayn explains. “It sounds like you could develop a proper crush on him and I can’t even recall the last time you liked someone like that. It’s just... cute.”

Louis shrugs and kind of agrees. Zayn is right; Louis is cute. He supposes his friends aren’t too bad.

-

“Niaaallllll,” Harry whines, increases his pace, hoping to keep up with him. Harry may have the legs in this relationship, but Niall has the vigor.

“What, Harry? Stop whining. You should be grateful I am such a great friend. I didn’t even mention how much you talk about his figure. What'd you call it? Hour and a bit glass?"

Harry huddles up his shoulders against the cold air as they walk back to their dorm room. “But you basically told him we were talking about him, which is not okay.”

“Please, stop being such a drama queen.” Niall tosses his hair. “You should’ve seen the way you two were with each other. Sickening. He looked at you like he was a lost ship and you were the compass. You really should’ve seen it. Damn, he’s definitely into you,” he smiles toothily, punching Harry in the arm. “I’m so happy for you, man!”

Harry grins down at the grass as they walk through the lawn in front of their building. “Thanks. I mean, I hope he’s into me. It’s just... he’s so much older and cooler and he could have anyone he wants. So, why me?”

“Harry, please. You’re such a catch.” He rests his hand on Harry’s shoulder as they come to a halt. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. And I mean it, bro.”

That’s one of the most sincere things Harry has ever heard, but he has a feeling Niall is just an earnest person. “Thanks, man.” Harry feels his face light up in a grin. He’s glad his roommate is so affectionate.

“Well,” Niall begins as they arrive in their building, “you might as well get used to eating with Louis, anyways.”

“What? Why? I mean we’ll serve dinner at our inevitable wedding, but…”

“But, Zayn and Liam have a late class two nights a week, and stay on campus to eat in the dining hall. It’s cheaper. And while you and Louis were lost in your own conversation, I made plans with the power couple to meet up for dinner on those nights. It’ll be nice,” Niall zones out in the distance. “Like a miniature bro-night, but in a dining hall instead of my future thirty-k living room. You’ll come to my bro-night, won’t you, Harry?”

Harry’s never been one to disappoint. And if Louis and Niall will both be there, it’s not as if he really has a choice. “Sure, Nialler, I’ll go. Let’s just not get romantic about it.”

-

Dinner with the boys quickly goes from twice a week to every other day. Not that anyone particularly minds; the boys get along beautifully. Liam and Zayn practically adopt Niall and provide him with constant attention and food, to which Niall showers everyone in love and adoration. Most of which, Louis notices, is aimed at Harry. And, while he’s never been one to speculate because everyone’s business is their own, he speculates.

He can’t help it when half of the time he arrives at their table first, only to find Harry and Niall practically sending each other heart eyes, Niall trying not to laugh. Harry always chats with Louis, trying to make him comfortable, and it works. Louis finds himself laughing all the time with Harry. Even when Niall’s there, they monopolize each other’s conversations. He almost feels bad, but then he remembers Niall has never defined his relationship with Harry to the masses. He doesn’t understand this mindset, because if Harry was his, he’d scream it from the rooftops of every major city. Niall’s missing out. On the other hand, Louis is also missing out. On Harry.

But Harry knows Louis is the sun. Coincidentally, he wants them to get married and have lots of sons. Or daughters. He’s not going to be picky. He spends his days pining after Louis, and it’s only gotten worse now that they see each other out of class. He’s just so captivating and quick-witted, how can’t someone fall for him? They can banter and rib one another like childhood friends, and it’s exceptional, considering the short time they’ve known each other.

Harry thinks Louis is perfect. Even when Louis scowls at Niall when he thinks he’s not looking; he can only figure he doesn’t like Niall capturing the attention of Zayn and Liam. He remembers when Louis told him he felt like their child, and it’s proven in Harry’s human development class that children often feel jealous when their parent’s attention is on someone else.

Harry tries to remember how easily he's trusted people his whole life, and how horribly some people have taken that advantage on him. He wants to believe Louis is the exception.

“I don’t know,” Harry begins. “In class, all we do is banter, and I consider it flirting. It’s quite a lot of flirting. And he looks at me all the time like he wants to cuddle me.”

Niall nods tentatively, as he usually does when Harry confronts him with his problems.

“I know he likes me. He’s got to. No one looks at someone that much unless they want to devour them. Or murder them, but, obviously... So why hasn’t he made his move? Do you think he doesn’t know I like him? Have I not been obvious enough about it?”

“Mate, you’ve been plenty obvious about it. Besides literally sucking his dick in the middle of the quad, I’m not sure what else you could do. And you’re right, too. He definitely likes you. Zayn and Liam have told me,” Niall reveals, raising his eyebrows.

“You guys talk about us?” He can’t stop himself from smiling at the fact his friends care so much about them.

“Yes! All the fucking time. It’s almost annoying, but you guys are so cute and clueless that we can’t help it.”

“I am not cute and clueless! I am an intelligent, sexy young adult. Do not put me in your stereotypical box,” Harry pouts. Niall snorts unappealingly.

“Listen,” Harry whispers discretely, “I have a plan.”

NIall leans in. “Well, let’s hear it.”

“Okay. First, I get him to tutor me. He never takes notes in that class (sidenote: it’s usually because he’s staring at me), so he obviously knows everything and doesn’t need to write it down.”

“Harry I don’t think that’s how logic wor-”

“No, Niall, I’m right. Listen to me. So he comes over to tutor me and I’ll look soft and cuddly and he’ll adore me as always but, here’s where it gets good, I strip. I find a reason to take my shirt off in the middle of the session, I spill water on myself or something and-”

“Harry, you can’t be serious!” Niall cackles. He’s in hysterics imagining the situation. These are the kind of idiots he keeps as friends.

“I am completely serious! So anyways, I take my shirt off and then stuff happens and we end up on the bed or I just end up in a position to grab his penis.”

“Harry, stop! I’m literally going to choke on my hot dog. You can’t just say things like that,” tears of laughter pool in his eyes.

“Exactly! God, yes, Niall. You’re a genius; that’s exactly what I want to do. I’m going to choke on his hotdog and while I’m doing that I’m going to grab that tube from my drawer and then I’ll take my fingers and-”

“Hey, Harry. What’s up?” Louis slides down next to him as Harry rapidly cuts his plan off, blushing. Niall bursts out laughing, slamming his head down on the sticky table to hide his face. Harry can’t move. He doesn’t find it funny, that fucker.

“What? What’s so funny?” Louis looks at Harry for an explanation, but he can’t speak. How much of that did Louis hear?

“Um…. “ he stutters.

“What’s wrong, Harold? Cat got your tongue?” He glances warily at Niall, who's looking away, before leaning in closer and whispering, “because if your mouth isn’t previously engaged, I’ve got some plans.”  

Harry’s eyelids flutter shut as he breathes in deeply. He never wants Louis to move. He wants him to keep whispering dirty things in his ear until he’s grey.

“What! Louis! No sexting at the table!” Niall proclaims. Apparently Louis wasn’t as quiet as he thought. "You will not disrespect my boy and I in our house like this!"

'My boy and I... Our house... Harry and Niall living together domestically...' Louis’' heart drops a bit because they must be together, right?

"Niall! Don't you have something else to be doing? Something like not eavesdropping?" Harry’s alert, but his eyes are still glassed over in bliss. Louis is awestruck at the fact he had this effect on him.

Niall sits there looking smug while Harry excuses himself to the restroom. Louis can’t help but notice the way he conceals his crotch while standing up. He tries not to think about it.

Then Louis realizes it’s only him and Niall. Niall, whose boyfriend he just gave a possible boner to while in front of him.

“So,” Niall begins, “you’re obviously a minx. What are your intentions for our young Harry?”

Louis fish-mouths. "I, um, I have no intentions, sir?"

"Oh. So you're just gonna fuck him up freely? Just drag him around and treat him however you feel? I see how it is."

"What?! No! No I would never hit it and quit it. Quit him, that is.. I meant, uh, that.."

"I'm just kidding," Niall smiles without restraint. Louis doesn't see how this is a humorous situation. “I know you’re a good man. You two should honestly just get together already. He’s so into you it’s ridiculous.”

Louis is confused.

“Who’s getting together?” Liam and Zayn have finally arrived to save him from the clutches of Harry’s almost-boyfriend. Bless them.

“Louis and Harry, fucking hopefully!” Niall exclaims, exchanging high-fives with the new arrivals. “I’m going to go check on my boy. He’s been gone for too long.” He throws Louis an obvious wink before sashaying away. If he’s going to take care of his boyfriend’s boner, Louis hopes the bathrooms are at least clean.

“So… you and Harry?”

Louis stares at Zayn dejectedly. “No, Zayn. There is no ‘me and Harry’.” He blows his cheeks up before pushing the air out calmingly. “I was too late. And I understand… he must have many suitors to choose from.”

“Louis,” Liam counters, “you know he looks at you like you’re the fucking sun, and-“

“No, Liam.” Louis slowly lifts his hand up to lazily place it over Liam’s mouth. “Shhh. I’m sure you know why we can’t be together. Please, let’s not rub this in.” He wishes his arms were as nice as Liam’s. Maybe Harry would appreciate that.

“Louis, is this about your mom?” Zayn places a concerned hand over Louis’. “Because you know none of that matters when it comes to Harry. You guys act like fucking soulmates, a married couple even.”

Honestly, Louis hasn’t thought of home in two whole days. He’s been so caught up in course work and hanging out with Harry and the boys that it just never crosses his mind. He’s been so happy.

Still, what kind of shitty person goes off to university only to forget all the problems he caused at home for the people he loved? I’m that kind of shitty person.

Louis leaves his hand under Zayn’s. “No, it’s not about home. The last time I talked to my mom was two nights ago,” He glances down at his phone, but it’s too late to call now. He feels like trash. He pulls back to rub the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I should be thinking about them, but I’m not. I’m a bad son.”

“Fuck, Lou, no you’re not. Don’t ever think that just because you’re here actually enjoying yourself and meeting new people rather than worrying over your parents' finances that you’re a bad person. You’re the best person. You took at least nineteen hours of online surveys to earn enough to pay your mom back. I’m so proud of how responsible you are. Lou, anything, you can tell us.”

“I don’t have anything to say,” he sighs. “I really just don’t want to talk about it.” He doesn’t know whether he was referring to the Harry or home situation, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. “I just want to eat and go home and sleep for ten hours.”

“Okay, babes. Get whatever you want, my treat.”

“Zayn. I can pay for my own food,” Louis huffs. Zayn just rolls his eyes.

“Of course you can pay for your own food. I know you’re not a charity case. You’ve just had a long day and I want to do something nice, Lewis. Don’t rain on my fucking parade.”

“I’ll save the table. You two go,” Liam says warmly.

It’s moments like these where Louis realizes how much he loves his friends.

And when Harry and Niall return ten minutes later, both with obviously flushed cheeks, Louis tells himself it doesn’t matter. It’s fine. He has a slice of pizza, loving friends, and the promise of Harry’s company in Calculus.

-

“Hey Lou,” Harry whispers.

“No.” This is the third time today.

“No listen, this one is actually good.” Louis doesn’t believe that for a second. All of Harry’s jokes are awful.

“Go away. I’m trying to write here.” He mindlessly copies down the graphs pictured on the board. He will not give into Harry Styles this time.

Louis manages to ignore him until he says “knock knock,” and when he doesn’t respond he says it once more, kicking Louis under the desks and hooking their ankles together. He tries not to let his grin break his serious expression.

“Fine, Harry. Who’s there?”

“Cargo.”

“Cargo who?”

“Car go ‘beep beep’.”

If Louis was drinking water, now would’ve been the perfect time to spit it out. Right in Harry's pretty little face. A face that would look good covered in a number of substances, including, but not limited to, Louis' cum after a great round of-

“You are a menace to society,” he turns to look Harry in his perfect face, and is met with shining eyes and dimples. Louis is so endeared. He uses his ankle to tug on Harry’s a bit, saying, “I hope one day someone arrests you for all these horrible jokes and you go to jail for an awful sense of humor.”

“You love it.” He does. “You’d bail me out in an instant.” He would.

“Hmm, and why would I bail you out? What would you do for me, young Harold?”

Harry’s voice drops, tone softer as he whispers, “You could have whatever you like.”

Louis feels his blood pulse through his body. This must be how people feel right before they fall. Harry doesn’t break their eye contact, just begins humming, “Stacks on deck. Parton on ice. We can pop bottles all night. Baby, you can have whatever you like.”

“I hate you. Get away from me,” Louis says, pretending to be upset as he untangles their ankles. Harry smiles dumbly at him, almost giggling under his breath, and Louis tells himself his heart didn’t want Harry to mean what he said and that his ankle isn’t suddenly cold. He just has skinny ankles and they feel drafts easily, okay.

The professor dismisses class six minutes later with neither Harry nor Louis really learning anything. But Louis figures it’s not like he usually learns anything, so.

They walk out together, as they’ve been doing since the second day of class. The back of Harry’s hand brushes his, and Louis tries to ignore the sparks rocketing up his arm. He’s been trying to ignore these for the past month, coincidentally.

“Soooo,” Harry draws out.

“So,” Louis replies, looking up at him. This boy and his long, long body will be the death of him. He’s sure.

“So,” Harry smiles. “Since I missed the last half of the class due to you, you now owe me a tutoring session.” He fixes his hair self-consciously and raises his eyebrows, waiting for Louis to answer.

His heart melts. This sweet, sweet boy thinks he’s smart; or that he can actually focus and pay attention any better than Harry can in the class. How can anyone pay attention with an endearing boy whispering shitty knock-knock jokes in their ear? “Harry, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh,” he moves his hand away from where it had been constantly brushing against Louis’. “Okay that’s alright, bro. I’ll just see you later. You’re coming to dinner, right, bro?”

“No, Harry, wait.” Louis grabs his hand, marveling at how soft Harry’s skin is. Louis could see him using the Warm Vanilla Sugar body lotion his sisters would always give each other for Christmas. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, not at all. I do want to spend time with you.” All the time, every time. “It’s just.. This is embarrassing. You won’t tell?”

“No, Lou, never.” He’s still holding his hand.

He takes a deep breath in. “I’m failing that class, Harry. I’m literally ranked second to last so I wouldn’t be much of a help to you. I’m dumb. And now you know and what if you treat me like I'm dumb and then I- ”

“No, no, you’re not dumb. Don’t say that. Everyone is just good at different things. Like, you’re so good at making people feel important. And that’s so much better than math.” Harry’s face is honest. Louis blushes from the intensity of this. They’re standing in the middle of a university walkway on the verge of holding hands and he can’t take his eyes from Harry’s. He swears he’s not in junior high again.

“Still though. You’re so smart and I’m just.. I’m not. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” But he does. He came here to get away from home. The girls aren't your responsibility. It's okay to want what you want--to be alone.

Harry squeezes his hand. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Do you have a hot date or do you want to come to my dorm to study? Niall will be out. I don’t think you’re stupid, but I promise I can help you get a higher grade in the class.”

Louis thinks about all the people passing by who must think they’re a couple. He likes the thought. “Yeah, I’ll come by. I’m warning you though. I need lots of help and you can feel free to kick me out at any time. I can get annoying. I promise I can take it if you tell me to fuck off,” he says, though he doesn’t know if he could actually handle Harry being angry with him.

Harry finds himself disagreeing that Louis is annoying. He thinks anyone who finds Louis annoying doesn’t deserve his company anyways. “Hey, I don’t mind. I like spending time with you,” He squeezes his hand.

“Okay, but no funny business, Styles. I expect you to treat me like the lady I am.”

“Oh,” his grin turns wicked. “So you want me to get some stuff then, right? What size in lingerie are you?”

Louis is saved by his phone going off. It’s his mom’s ringtone. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes as he extracts his hand. “It’s family. I should take this. See you tonight?”

“I’ll see you at dinner.” Harry promises, bopping Louis’ blood-red nose before walking away.

Louis is so charmed. He tries to calm himself before answering his phone.

-

Harry waits patiently, thumbing through his collection of sweaters. He needs a favor. He’s always been good at getting what he wants; he’s known this since he was young. And while he wishes he was above using his charm and exploiting his image of innocence to get it, he's really not.

Niall is one of the most sincere people he's met. He has a kind heart and a natural ease around him that draws others in. Niall is his best friend (the only one who knows about the Louis situation, really), yet Harry still isn't above going after what he wants.

Which, in this case, is the room to himself tomorrow night. He’s planning on having a visitor, and possibly his very first more-than-friends sleepover.  He’s so delighted that he ran  to the student center for some brand new sheets, but decided against them when they had the school’s mascot printed right in the middle. Nothing says ‘lets have sex’ better than a seahorse except, well, everything.

Niall enters the room less than ten minutes later, and Harry's target is acquired.    

“Niall," he says, hopping over to rub Niall's shoulders gently. "You are such a good roommate. You never get mad when I light candles and you didn’t even call my christmas lights girly. I love you.” He advances to small karate chops aimed mid-back.

“Awe, thanks man. I love you too.” Niall's head falls forward as Harry gently grabs his neck and works the knots out. "But you're not fooling me with this backrub. Either you want sex or a favor, and, with the way you're half in love with Louis, I'm guessing it's not sex." He turns his head to wink at Harry. "Keep the massage up, mate. It feels so nice."

Harry keeps rubbing, hoping for the best. Neither of them have asked to have the room to themselves; hopefully Niall will be okay with it. "Speaking of sex, can I have the room tomorrow night?"

"Ohhhh, I see how it is. Okay, what's going on, Styles? Spill."

Harry smiles, slightly embarrassed. "Louis is coming over tomorrow and I'm going to help him with calculus. I'd like no interruptions, please. Learning environments are very important."

"What?" Niall turns out of Harry's grip, leaning against his shabby dresser with a smirk plastered on his face. "No interruptions because of the learning environment, or no interruptions while you get in a position to grab his dick?"

"What? No!" Harry brings his hand to his chest, faux affronted. "I would never! What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"You liar! You literally told me you wanted to, and I quote, end up in a position to grab his penis."

"I guess I did say that. However,” he says, stuffing his finger in Niall’s face,” I have changed my tactics. From now on, whatever happens, happens." Harry looks in the mirror, fluffing up his curls. He can never get them to fall right during autumn. It's always too windy.

Niall claps him on the back. "Well, man, I'm proud of you. I'll clear out around six then and leave you to it. I've been trying to make plans with this girl to go drinking, anyways."

"You're going out with a girl? Why didn’t you tell me you were interested in someone?” he whines. “You know all about my nonexistent love life. This isn’t fair.”

“Oh, I thought I told you,” he shrugs. “It’s Liam’s cousin. Her legs are amazing and her lipgloss is poppin’, so. It’s a no brainer.”

Harry snorts. “That’s great, Niall. I’m happy for you,” he says, all jokes aside with a grin. "And thanks for leaving the room to me, too. I really appreciate it and I love you." He says, modeling his best toddler grin.

"Whatever, mate. I'm doing this for all of us." He points his finger accusingly at Harry. "We're so sick of you two dancing around each other that Zayn, Liam, and I are on the brink of starting a club with a goal of forcing you two together. Hopefully we won't have to, now." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Get some, mate. I have faith.”

Niall gets up to leave, heading somewhere unknown to Harry. Harry worries about his comings and goings sometimes. He doesn’t think whoever Niall’s with is feeding him correctly. He never looks properly nourished.

“Louis is not a piece of meat to be devoured. He’s a pretty, caring boy who needs attention and love and cherishing!” He calls as Niall exits. And then he’s left alone, still thumbing through his sweater collection and plotting his move for Louis.

-

“Okay. Yeah. Love you, too. Bye mom.” Louis hangs up dejectedly. He’s sitting on the living room couch, knees drawn up to his chest while he picks at the threads of the rundown cushion. He feels a connection with this cushion. They’re both ragged, falling apart, and in need of loving care.

“I feel you, cushion. We are the same,” he whispers before finally allowing himself to cry. He does it slowly, quietly. He makes his eyes fill to the brim with tears, then permitting one tear after the other to fall until he can’t stop himself anymore. He feels so shitty and hasn’t had the opportunity for a good cry in the last two weeks.

1. One tear falls. Family. Another. I’m happier away from them. His eyes fill. I’m an inferior, flawed, horrible person. He drops his head to his knees and lets the thoughts flow as freely as his tears. Zayn has a class for the next two hours and Liam is out on a run, so Louis knows he has time. He almost laughs because he feels safer crying on this alien couch alone than he ever has crying into his pillow in a house full of sleeping girls. But laughing requires too much positive energy.

He feels powerless and incapable and dismissed, but he knows he’ll feel better soon. It’s the beauty of being away from home; he can focus on himself and how he feels. He’s learning how to help himself. And, another positive, is Harry. He’s a beautiful thing about university.

Louis sniffles. If he is this couch, Harry is a perfect, new leather couch. But not a stuck up leather couch who knows he’s better than every other couch. No, he’s a leather couch that knows and understands and loves. He’s the couch that Louis admires and strives to be.

However, he is also an already purchased couch. Louis breathes deeply, tears slowing as he reminds himself Harry’s taken. Harry’s with Niall, not Louis. He can handle it though. He's a big boy, practically an adult, and he knows that's how life works. He'll accept it and find a different boy to settle down with. It'll be wonderful. It'll be better than anything he could ever have with Harry. (No, that's a lie).

He pulls a comforter off the back of the couch, assumingly Liam or Zayn’s from when they were cuddled last night watching a movie.

They're such a perfect couple. It's disgusting. Harry and I would be an even more perfect couple, though. He knows for a fact it’s the truth. Harry’s just the best at everything.

If we had kids, they'd be as pretty and as smart as him. He'd be so good with kids. Louis tucks his toes in the comforter and makes himself stop thinking about it. It's not often he has time for a good cry, and this opportunity might not come around again for a while. So he closes his eyes and drifts back to the conversation with his mom, and the one thing that hurt him the most: Lottie got caught trying to steal a pair of boots. It’s ridiculous; she’s ridiculous. It's practically impossible to try and steal a pair of shoes that large and bulky, but she tried it anyways. He can't believe she would be so stupid.

She called that afternoon from the station. God, he can't believe they took her to the station. It was more to scare her, he’s sure. No one’s pressing charges, just banning from that particular shopping center. That's not the point though. The point is that she did it.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut and nestles himself further back into the couch. He's cocooned and cozy in the comforter. It helps only a little to offset his feeling of I should've been there, how could this happen, I’m such a bad influence of a brother.

Ultimately, he knows he's being irrational in blaming himself. He knows it's not his fault and that Lottie isn't his responsibility, but at the same time he doesn't know. He was the man of the house before he left, and what if he was one of the only few positive influences in her life? And she's acting out because of him? Or what if he wasn't enough of a good influence? That's what scares him the most. That the nights he stayed out partying or the time his mom caught him with a boy while still in the closet are all his sisters saw in him. That they never saw all the good he tried to do.

He finally gives up and falls over slowly, lying on his side, all wrapped up and warm. Maybe he’ll make himself some tea after he wakes up. He assures himself he'll be calmer and feel better after dinner, and after he’s had some time. That's enough for now.

He falls asleep with dried tear stains and a dreams about a certain pair of lips kissing them away.

-

He feels better after his nap. He feels reborn and ready to see his friends, ready to draw energy from their presence. He’s always felt his best around other people; whether their presence is comforting or just helps him keep up an act, he doesn't know. But, honestly, he's also really looking forward to seeing Harry.

On Louis’ fifteen minute walk to dinner he remembers what woke him up. Well, besides his insane need to pee. He had an epiphany. Even if Harry and him can only be friends, which currently looks like the case, he's okay with it. Realistically, Harry and Niall are bound to break up. The whole ‘fucking-your-college-roommate’ thing never works out. There’s been studies to prove this, and if not, logic proves it enough. If he just shows he’s always there to care for and support Harry, things will work out on their own. Harry will be his baby mama. Maybe they’ll even break up before the tutoring session tomorrow, leaving Louis to woo Harry free of guilt. The power of positive thinking.

He spends his walk to dinner imagining all the coupley things he and Harry could do. They could skydive on their first anniversary, and he could buy Harry a perfect black cashmere sweater for the second. They could share clothes and set each other as their phone backgrounds. Forget Louis seeing Harry twice a day for class and food. He could be seeing him all of the time, for sex and waking up and cuddling. They could go on dates to scary movies and Louis could spend the whole time acting brave while he comforts Harry with a hand petting through his hair. That’s what life is made for.

Everyone else is already at the table when he arrives. Louis slides in next to Harry, of course, with a “hey, guys.”

“Louis,” chirps Zayn with a huge smile. The type of smile Louis knows to mean something’s up. The type Louis knows means he’s about to be embarrassed. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a tutoring session with Harry tomorrow night?” He drawls, glancing between the two boys suggestively.

Louis glances over and Harry’s cheeks are already flushed. Fuck, he’s so lovely. “I didn’t know you had an interest in every aspect of my life, Zaynie. Seems a tad codependent when I’m not your boyfriend,” he counters with a cheeky smile, trying to get the point across that now isn’t the time.

“Nah, man. We’re not calling you out,” Niall promises. “We just think you guys are cute together.”

Zayn smirks. “Yeah, sounds like a proper date night to me! And also, good thing I’m not your boyfriend. Word on the street is you’ve got your eye on someone else.” His eyebrows wiggle automatically.

Louis really wants him to stop ruining his life now. He’s doesn’t think Zayn fully understands that when they’re around Harry’s current boyfriend, he wants to keep it a secret that he’s trying to be Harry’s next boyfriend. Niall might catch on and try to stop Louis’ wonderful plan.

“Hey, babe. If Louis is gonna be out of the flat tomorrow does that mean you want me to run to the store for your favorite lube?” Liam raises his eyebrows questioningly. You’d think it was a joke if his tone wasn’t sincere.

“Well, yeah,” Zayn shrugs. “That’d be nice. You’re so sweet.”

Louis is disgusted. Ew, couples. “You guys are disgusting and I hate you both,” he scoffs as he reaches over to steal some of Zayn’s chips.

“I don’t know,” Harry begins, cheeks still flushed like he’s been in the wind for hours. He’s always like this. His natural look is so beautiful. “I think relationships are nice. It feels good to have someone to count on and love.” He’s looking directly into Louis’ eyes, freezing him to the spot. Shit. It’s almost like he’s trying to play with Louis’ feelings.

“Yeah, I like relationships too. They’re nice. You’re nice. And right.” Louis says it like he’s in a dream. He’s practically in a trance just from Harry’s presence.

“‘You’re always right, Harry. Please teach me math and how to make babies. Maybe you could show me both,’” NIall mocks, tone high and teasing and obviously aimed at Louis. Liam and Zayn giggle, those traitors. This is not funny. This is friendship abuse. He hides his head in his hands, embarrassed, and wishes this conversation will end soon. It shouldn’t have even begun.

“Niall! If anyone’s showing anyone how babies are made, wouldn’t it be Liam’s cousin and you?” Harry rebutes. Louis’ mouth drops open. What kind of relationship do they have? Harry just said he loved loving and caring relationships, but how can he say that when he and Niall aren't even properly together?

"Hey, Styles. Learning how to make babies is why I keep you around." And Niall leans over the table to smack a kiss on one of Harry’s dimples, making an appearance with his grin. Louis hates his life. He wants to be the one to kiss Harry’s dimples. To cherish it, to lick it like a sweet, and to maybe build a home in it one day. His heart is offended; that dimple basically belongs to him.

“My cousin?” Liam eyes him. “I swear, Niall, if you hurt her in any way I will personally-”

“Hey,” Niall holds up his hands, signaling surrender. “I won’t, Li. I promise. We’re going out for drinks and I’ll treat her like a proper man would.”

Liam sighs. “I believe you but I’m not sure if that’s because you’re telling the truth or because you’re using some kind of black magic. And don’t even,” Liam presses when it looks like he’s about to argue back, “I know you have some. Everyone always listens to you and I don’t know why but damn it, I’m going to listen to you, too.”

“Here, babes, have some yummy salad,” Zayn cooes in distraction. “I’ll even feed it to you. Here comes the airplane, open wide.”

“That must be what he says when he and Liam are in bed,” Harry mumbles to Louis, clearly as exhausted by their friends as Louis feels. Keeping up with a group this strange keeps him on his toes.

“No, I think it might be more of ‘Avenger One, coming in for landing. Is the base secure, Mr. Payne?’ Superheros get Liam going,” Louis exposes. He glances around the table to see their friends are all occupied, Zayn and Liam with each other and Niall with his phone, before resting his pinky next to Harry’s under the table so they’re just barely touching. This signature move is part of his ‘Become Harry’s Boyfriend’ plan. It lets him know he’s interested, but subtly enough that Harry could refuse his advances if he wanted to without any awkward situations. Louis is a firm believer in the Pinky Resting movement.

“Hmm. Everyone has their own kinks, I guess. Can’t say I don’t have any strange interests,” Harry deadpans. He hasn’t moved his pinky.

“Oh, yeah,” Louis swallows. “Like what?”

Harry leans closer so that when he breathes, Louis can smell the flavor of Harry’s gum. It’s bubblegum. How fitting with his bubblegum lips. They look so soft and plush. Louis could chew on them for hours. “I like lingerie. I like feeling pretty,” His voice is breathy. “I like some make-up and knee high socks.” He pauses, considering his next words carefully. “I like to think about being tied up, but I’ve never been before.”

Louis’ eyes widen from shock at first, but then from the absolute arousal he feels. He can’t stop imagining Harry tied up and flushed, spread out just for him. Harry in mascara and rogue with frilly, red panties on. Just wanting to be good for him.

“I…” but Louis doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to reply and he can feel his cheeks heating up. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s the one in charge here, and he can’t just let boys like Harry Styles go running free. They’ll ruin him.

He tangles his pinky with Harry’s, thinking it’ll somehow reassert his dominance, but it doesn’t. He’s left there with an embarrassed look on his face that Harry interprets as nervous.

“But safely,” Harry confirms. Louis doesn’t understand.

“I, um, I would want to be tied up safely. During sex. I like when you use bondage for pleasure..” Harry backtracks, taking Louis’ response as concern for safety in his sexual habits. “I would never want to hurt anyone, or anyone to hurt me. I just think it’s something I would enjoy with the proper precautions in place,” he promises.

“Wow. That’s good you’ve thought so much about it. Good,” he mumbles for lack of anything better to say. His pinky is starting to sweat. Harry is too much for Louis to handle at this time in his life, he feels like he’s about to kneel over and have a heart attack. There’s too much testosterone.

Harry’s stomach grumbles. Loudly. He and Louis both look down, whatever mood they had instantly broken. Louis misses it, misses the connection he felt with Harry, until he looks back up.

“When I was younger, my mom told me that my stomach grumbled because there was a baby kitten in there and that the grumbles were him meowing for nutrition,” he smiles, features softening. “Hearing it now, it sounds really cute. But when she told me that, I broke down crying. I couldn’t believe I had eaten a kitten and I felt so bad because they’re just so cute, Lou! I wouldn’t stop crying until she told me she was joking, and then Gemma accused her of lying to a minor. And Gemma was only eight.” They both give small laughs and look back up at each other, sweaty pinkies still intertwined.

“If my mom had told me that, I probably would’ve tried to eat our cat if I knew they could survive in human stomachs. I mean, the kitten was probably lonely. I'm told I was a wild child."

Harry grins, dimples on full display at the thought of toddler Louis running around, reaching for the kitten with grubby hands.

“I see nothing’s changed.” And he moves to intertwine the whole of their hands. Louis feels every inch of his touching Harry’s. The sides of their hands line up first, every bit of it electric. Fingers slide over fingers, the pads of Louis’ getting close to Harry’s knuckles. He can’t believe he’s about to touch Harry’s knuckles; he feels like every day of his life has lead up to this moment. He can’t believe how lucky he is to be a real life person who gets to touch Harry’s hand.

“Hey, watcha two doing?” They let go under the table immediately, Louis pushing air out of his lungs. Niall was the one who burst their bubble. He always is. Louis tries to suppress the boiling rage in his blood.

“Nothing, Niall,” Harry hisses. “You little bitch.” Louis lets a small giggle escape his lips.

“Stop telling secrets. Stop that! It’s rude, Styles. Pay attention to other people, too, please. Liam was just telling a marvelous story about his high school gym coach and you’re missing all of it.”

“Just because you have a crush on Liam and listen to everything he says does not mean I have to, as well.”

So they're back to their teasing ways. Those damn couples.

Niall just shrugs. “Okay, your loss.” His eyes flit between the two of them, as do Liam’s and Zayn’s, all of them taking in Harry and Louis' proximity. “Oh, oh, okay. I see what’s going on here. Continue doing… whatever it is you’re doing. Don’t mind us.” He smirks.

“Don’t be a wanker, just listen to your man crush,” Harry replies, rolling his eyes.

The three of them engage in whatever conversation they had going before, leaving Harry and Louis to themselves. They both get up to grab their dinners, finally- some spaghetti-o like pasta for Louis and a vegan burger for Harry- but whatever mood they had before doesn't return, much to Louis’ disappointment.

They eat quietly, well away from physically touching, and listen to the Niall’s chatter. He's telling some story about last summer when he and a girl went to the lake at midnight to have sex, but he kept getting scared by all the noises coming from the woods behind them. Harry keeps teasing him, and eventually, Louis can’t take it. He resorts to throwing himself into an argument with Zayn over which company makes the best graphic socks to distract himself. To his shock he loses and accepts the fact that he’s hit rock bottom.

How can he lose an argument about his favorite subject to someone who doesn't even like graphic socks? Louis just grunts. The promise of his tutoring session with Harry tomorrow is the only thing keeping him from running away and changing his name tonight.

-

"Have fun at your tutoring session, Lou! I hope you hit more than books tonight," Zayn calls suggestively from the couch, where he's cuddled up in Liam's side like a softcore underwear model. Which, he basically and actually is.

But even so, Louis has principles. "You're the biggest wanker I've ever met, and I hope Liam cums in your eye and it stings like bleach and you go blind," he retorts, snatching his keys on the way out.

He feels so good. He feels so good about tonight. He went on a walk today and did a load of laundry, partially so he would have clean clothes for this occasion, and he even ate an apple. It tasted very bad, but he's always heard it's the thought that counts. He has to make an effort to impress Harry if he wants him to leave Niall for him. He can do it, he has faith. Louis Tomlinson is a kind, healthy, attractive citizen. He’s repeated this so many times that it's becoming his new mantra.

He checks his phone to make sure he has the right building. The dark makes all the dorms identical, rectangular buildings morphing into other rectangular buildings. ‘John Muir’ is lit up above the entryway, just like Harry mentioned in a text message to Louis last night because he got his number. But it’s no big deal, of course. Louis gets cute boys’ numbers all the time (he doesn’t).

Louis strolls down the hall, Vans quiet on the hideously thin carpet. He’s glad he lives off campus; these dorms look old and worn and smell like sweat. Maybe he and Harry can live off campus next semester. As friends, or something. They could adopt a cat and take turns feeding it until Louis could convince Harry to take all the turns.

159. He doesn’t know if he should knock or text Harry or maybe call him? He could text him, but isn’t that too creepy when he’s standing outside his door? Yeah, he decides. That’s pretty creepy. Maybe I could just like.. No. I should knock. Knocking is good. He’s still debating when a group of boys tromp loudly behind him, babbling about their pre-game and effectively shaking Louis from his thoughts.

He knocks. The door immediately opens, and the smell of cupcakes wraps around him, making Louis feel warm and at home and peaceful. But then he sees Harry. Lovely Harry. In a contest, he would always take home first for making Louis feel warm and at home. The first place prize would be Louis himself, but no one needs to know that.

"Hi," Harry grins, dimples shining at full force tonight. A thick blue headscarf holds back his curls, accentuating his superb facial structure. He's wearing a plain white t shirt and grey joggers, both looking as soft and as worn as Louis' favorite sheets. He looks great, and Louis has to admit that he'd look great in Louis' sheets as well.

"Hi," he comments giddily. "Your room smells Iike cupcakes. Are you harboring a secret bakery in here, Styles?"

Harry steps aside, allowing Louis to enter, closing the door softly behind him. "No. Just candles. I've got an fruity flavor and also an evergreen one stashed under my bed."

"Of course you do," Louis muses while studying the room. It's set up with two twin beds on either wall, separated by only about six feet of free space. There are, naturally, two minuscule desks and wardrobes on either wall. Niall has a couple world flags--they look like Ireland, Italy, and Australia--hung by his bed with pictures of his mates tacked close to them. Harry has chosen to post all of his on a corkboard with magazine cutouts, as well. The burning cupcake candle rests on his dresser and there are Christmas lights strung up all along his wall. They're the only source of light right now, and Louis thinks the way they play off of Harry's cheekbones and nose is unreal.

"Wow, it's really pretty in here. Very.. cozy," breathes Louis. He can't stop staring at the multiple shades of color on Harry’s cheeks, all the shadows created by dimples meets Christmas lights meets impeccable bone structure. He thinks he may have passed over into the category of creepy twenty seconds ago.

“Do I have something on my face?” Harry questions.

Yeah, I’ve definitely crossed that line.

“What? No. No you don’t. It.. your face is fine. It’s great,” he stammers. “You’ll- calculus, right? You’ll help me with calculus?”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, of course. The bed’s fine, right? Not a lot of sitting space in here, as you can see.” He gestures to his bed, books and notes spread about the covers haphazardly.

Louis nods, toeing off his shoes and clambering up to settle on the yellow comforter. It looks like it would be vivid and cheerful in proper lighting, like the sun. It fits Harry very well.

He stands at the foot of the bed, organizing his calculator and piles of notes. “For the record, I think your face is great, too,” his smile exposes his dimples yet again, which creates small shadows around his mouth. He’s a masterpiece.

Louis blushes, dumbfounded by the sincerity of the moment. “No need for flattery here. You’ve already got me in your bed,” he teases.

“You’re calling yourself easy, Tomlinson? Wow. If I had known all I had to do was tell you you had a pretty face, then..” he replies, climbing up next to Louis and settling so their shoulders are almost touching from where they rest against the wall. Louis dreamily considers that if his arm hairs stood up at the same time as Harry’s, they would touch and it would be heaven.

“Enough smack talk, Harold,” he huffs. “I came here to learn, not to be wooed by a taken man.” Louis says it out loud to remind himself, as he tends to forget that fact. Harry is a taken man, and his happiness is the number one priority.  Louis had a firm mirror talk with himself before coming here tonight. Harry isn’t a cheater and will not cheat. However, if it comes to that, I will not aid him in his cheating in any way, shape, or form. I will charm him into breaking up with Niall before anything happens. I am a kind, healthy, attractive citizen.

Harry side-eyes him with a confused look on his face, features scrunched up quite adorably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but okay, Lou. Whatever you say.”

They start reviewing basically everything since the beginning of September, adjusting positions so that after two solid hours of studying they’re resting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, knees knocking whenever one of them leans forward to mark the other’s paper.

Louis can’t say he pays more attention to the material here than in class; Harry’s hands are just as attractive, if not more given the lighting, and Harry himself is even closer now, infringing and taking over Louis’ senses as a whole. However, he somehow does learn more. Harry has such a simple way of explaining graphs and relations, and he just sees things in such a creative way. He should be a teacher. Harry could teach little kids, take them out for recess and playtime and create a community garden for a science portion. Harry should be surrounded by people as innocent and honest as himself.

“And, see, it’s like the graph had a baby. Like how kids usually resemble their parents, and you can see they’re related? That’s what the first derivative is. It’s the graph’s baby.” But Louis is still zoned out, picturing grown-up Harry surrounded by children planting sunflowers in a community garden.

“Lou,” he knocks their knees together. “Come on. We’re almost done, I promise. Just… here.”

Harry reaches into Louis’ space, grabbing the hand he’s holding the pencil in and placing his gently over Louis’. He starts to draw the derivative over the original graph, and Louis can feel every inch of his hand as it moves, engulfed by the warmth of Harry’s bear paw. Louis feels like he’s floating. The amount of time he’s spent imagining that hand on his cheek as they kiss or wrapped around Louis’ cock or grasping Louis’ own sheets. He can’t breathe for fear that Harry will read his mind.

Harry’s hand draws steadily. “See? Like a little baby.” He looks up from where he’s hunched over, practically on top of Louis. Louis had been looking down as Harry drew, and he still can’t breathe.

“I love kids,” Louis whispered like a confession. He licked his lips and noticed Harry’s eyes track the movement. They were so close. All he had to do was tilt his head down for their lips to touch. He was frozen.

“I love kids, too,” Harry confided. His eyes flickered from Louis’ eyes, to his mouth, and back to his eyes, like they always do before a deciding moment. They both look frozen, and Louis can feel his joggers starting to get uncomfortably hot. Harry removes his hand from Louis’, not breaking the moment. He wishes he wasn’t wearing any pants, almost wishes Harry didn’t make him feel this way. Harry, whose eyes were only half open but won’t stop moving anyways. Harry, with a few askew curls that had came loose from his headscarf. Harry, who was gently shifting the textbook and notes off of Louis’ lap. Wonderful, intelligent Harry.

“Fuck it,” Harry mumbles before he shifts, legs suddenly on either side of Louis, rising up on his knees so he’s practically straddling him. He then lowers his body until he’s eye-level with Louis, careful not to put any pressure on him.

Harry’s face is open, his pupils wide as he grabs Louis’ hands and places them on either side of his head, fingers tangling in his mess of curls and boy. Louis tilts his head up the same time he gently pulls Harry down, foreheads touching. They rest there like they had all the time in the world, anticipation growing with every breath they took. Louis can’t stop breathing Harry in, inhaling all the cute, masculine boy who smells like fresh sugar cookies and safety. The air passes down his throat, into his lungs where it filled his chest with warmth and butterflies before he exhaled back into Harry’s space and into the real world.

They lean closer, noses touching. No, this is wrong. I can’t do this, no fades into the background of his mind when Harry scrunches his nose up like a bunny, causing Louis to chuckle a bit. He can’t believe he’s touching noses with this wonderful boy.

“Lou,” he barely whispers, bringing their mouths closer so they’re just barely resting together. “Can I-”

The dorm door slams open and Harry jumps off of Louis. A red cheeked Niall stumbles in, trailed by a beautiful girl wrapped around him and biting the back of his neck like he’s a treat.

Harry’s on him in a second. “Niall,” he tries, looking like he’s about ready to cry. He glances at Louis, who has his head buried in his hands. “Niall!” he spits. Everyone in the room freezes, even the girl. Something is wrong. No one as pretty and as lovely as Harry should ever be yelling.

Harry’s eyes actually fill with tears, the harsh hallway lighting invading their room from where Niall keeps the door propped open. “Niall! What are you doing?” his voice wavers. “I had the room tonight.”

Niall stares blankly at him, trying to fight through his drunken haze to remember what’s going on. “For,” Harry waves his hand towards Louis, who hasn’t moved. “Tutoring, and stuff!”   

“Oh! Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry,” he glances at Louis, eyes pitying. He grabs the girl’s hands, intertwining their fingers. Louis can’t believe Niall’s cheating on Harry. Can’t believe he almost helped Harry cheat on Niall. “We’ll leave. We’re going somewhere else, don’t worry. I’m so sorr-”

Louis was disgusted with Niall, with himself, with everything. He gathers his notes quickly, jumping off of the bed and grabbing his shoes from the floor. “Thanks for the help Harry,” he says, backing out of the room, away from all this. “I have to go. I’ll see you around, I just. I have to go.” He turns his back and runs, socks hitting the floor and shoes still in hand. He watches Louis leave, and then drops back to the bed.

Tears of frustration fall from his eyes as Harry runs his hands through his hair. He breathes deeply, hunched over, ugly yellow light from the door still spilling over him. Niall detaches himself from the girl and approaches him.

“Hey,” he lays a hand on his back, patting him, comforting him. “I’m sorry, Harry. I thought you guys were going to his for some reason and I’m drunk and Allie is fucking beautiful and likes me too, and I’m sorry.”

“We were so close kissing and I thought he liked me too but he left and ugh. I'm so frustrated,” Harry mumbles, slightly muffling his words from where his hands are covering his mouth. He looks up at Niall, curls now falling on his forehead, and sighs, “It’s taken so long for me to get this close to him and for kissing him to even be a possibility. I thought he liked me, too.”

Harry looks like a sad frog and Niall can’t let it happen. “He does, he does, he totally does, bro! Zayn and Liam have told me and they know things.” He grabs Harry’s cheeks, smushing them together. “He likes you, head over heels, and I don’t know why he’s acting so weird about it.” Harry doesn’t look convinced. “Say it with me: Louis Tomlinson likes me. Come on H, try it.”

“Wuis Omlinewon limes mwh,” he tries, cheeks smushed together by Niall’s hands.

“Yes! Excellent, yes!” He peeps back at Allie, who’s standing in the doorway, unsure of where to go. “Look,” he begins, turning back to Harry. “I know I’m a little drunk right now, and won’t be of much help, but I’ll stay here if you want me to. Your candle smells good.”

Harry’s heart melts. “You’re such a good friend, Nialler. But no, you go. Just because I had a crappy night doesn’t mean you have to as well.”

“Okay,” he grins. “Thanks. But call me if you need anything. I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Be safe,” he tries to tease, but it comes out flat. He reminds himself it’s the thought that counts. Niall bounces to the door, where he wraps his arm around Allie’s shoulder.
“Love ya, H!” and then the door shuts and they’re gone. Harry’s alone with nothing but notes and graphing calculators to keep him company. He clears his bed off and puts on his warmest, ugliest pair of fuzzy socks before going to bed. He only cries a little after tucking the comforter to his chin.

-

Louis can’t believe he did that. Can’t believe he was about to kiss Harry. Stupid stupid stupid! He’s not a homewrecker, not in that sense. And then, Niall! He literally burst into the dorm room with a girl attached to his lips, obviously cheating on Harry. At least he didn’t see them almost kissing, but- this was Louis’ chance. He should go back and comfort Harry until his broken heart heals and he’s ready to love Louis. He should turn around right now.

But he halts, practically stops the fast walk he had going, and sloshes through a puddle. His sock instantly absorbs the dirty water, turning his whole foot soggy. Looking pathetically at his sock he realizes he can’t go back to Harry’s. He was a part of Harry’s awful night, and it’s not like he can drag Harry into his own problems at a time like this. He’s in no position to start involving anyone in his problems.

He just sighs, stripping off his socks and throwing them into an uncut bush in front of his building. He slums up to their apartment, lethargically shoving his key into the doorhandle and unlocking it. The lights are off, complimenting his gloomy mood. He flips the switch, ready to grab a beer from the fridge and go nurse it alone is his room. But then he sees it.

“Zayn! What the fuck!” he screams. Zayn is slumped in the the corner of the couch, head thrown back in what was once a moan, Liam’s mouth still wrapped around his dick. Their eyes are both wide, unblinking as they stare at Louis.

“What the actual fuck! Why is everyone together? Why are you having sex on our couch?” he drops his shoes, which hit the floor with a loud clunk. “You guys. Ugh,” he groans. Liam detaches himself from Zayn’s dick and they both quickly stand.

“Lou, are yo-”

“No. You know what? I’m just going to grab a beer and go to my room and stay there for the rest of my life. Continue,” he waves them off, shuffling to the fridge. “Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean everyone else has to be. At least two people in this house are getting orgasms…”

“Louis. Hey, are you okay?” Zayn asks, tucking himself back into his trousers. “What happened to your shoes?”

He gestures to their spot on the floor. “I…” Louis doesn’t know where to begin. Doesn’t know how to even start. “Screw off, Malik. I just felt like walking barefoot, okay? I’m fine. Enough with the twenty questions.” He pushes past Zayn gently and beelines for his bedroom, but Zayn follows.

“No, Louis. Tell me what’s wrong.” He shuts the door behind him, blocking Liam from this conversation. It’s then that Louis knows he has no chance of freedom. Zayn wants to have a serious bro talk, and he always gets his way in this friendship.

“Nothing, Zayn. Nothing’s wrong,” he attempts. He pops off the cap and takes a sip of the beer, feeling the fuzzy liquid pass down his throat. Maybe Zayn will believe him and let him go.

He leans back against Louis’ door like he’s settling in. His appearance is ridiculous, sex hair and flushed cheeks still apparent and his shirt half tucked in, but his demeanor is serious. And he’s just leaning there, staring at Louis. Blinking like he’s waiting for Louis to make the first move, to spill his heart out. Louis hates this, hates the way Zayn knows him sometimes better than he knows himself.

Louis takes a couple long sips before he decides it’s time.

“I’m telling you this because you’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had.”

Zayn nods for him to continue. Louis drags in a long sigh before spilling. “We were sitting on his bed, and he’s so fucking lovely, and I’ve had such a crush on him for forever. He’s always been so flirty with me but nothing has happened because he’s dating Niall, for fuck’s sake. But like, I wanted it to happen and I’m such a bad person for wanting someone to cheat because of me, like. Who does that? It shouldn’t be me! And then we were on his bed studying and he’s so smart and pretty and just, he’s such a beautiful person, and we almost kissed. We almost fucking kissed. Our lips basically touched!” He throws his hands up. Zayn has evolved to studying him from his perch, like Louis is a basket case.

“But wait! There’s more! Niall’s the one who interrupted our moment. He burst into the room with a girl and almost caught us, but he’s obviously cheating on Harry. And Harry just looked so upset. I wished they would break-up, and now I think they’re going to, but this isn’t how I wanted it to happen. I am actual trash, Zayn. I ran out and left Harry to face Niall alone. And on top of that, Lottie got caught stealing a few days ago, so there’s that.”

“What? No. She’s not.. she did?”

“Yes, Zayn. Yes, she did! And it’s my fault because apparently I wasn’t a good enough influence,” He takes another drink, toasts to his failure of a life. “So much is wrong right now. How could I even think of dragging Harry into this? And also, I hate the way this apartment smells and the way the school pasta sauce tastes and online surveys. I fucking hate online surveys, and I miss my family so much but I’ve never felt better in my entire life than when I’m away from them. And what does that say about me?” he finishes and rests his head against the wall behind his bed, heart completely open.

Zayn sits next to him, wrapping his tattooed arms around his shoulders. “Louis, I had no idea this was going on. I’m so sorry you had such a bad night, babes, and that everything’s going on with your family. I’m here for you.”

Louis hums, slightly breathing out.

“But,” Zayn continues. “Niall is most definitely not dating Harry, nor has he ever dated or expressed a want to date Harry. I have no idea where you got that idea, but-”

Louis’ eyes shoot open. “What? No. You’re wrong. They’ve been dating since the beginning of school. They’re roommates and they’re dating.”

“Okay... So when did they tell you this?”

“Well, they didn’t. No one did but, I just knew. I could sense it,” Louis mutters.

Zayn purses his lips. “I see.”

“No, really. I’m being serious. Have you noticed how many times Niall has called Harry ‘my boy’ or walked with his arm around his shoulders or gotten possessive when I took up too much of his attention? Because all of those things have happened multiple times. Don’t even tell me they haven’t.” He angles his head towards Zayn to see his expression.

Zayn just sighs. “Do you know how many times you’ve done those things to me? And are we dating?”

“No, but th-”

“Lou,” he explains. “Liam says Niall literally checks out boys all the time and it’s completely innocent. Apparently he’s just admiring his ‘goals’ or something. I don’t know. However, I do know Niall is currently interested in Liam’s cousin and has never, ever dated Harry. Ever,” he emphasizes.

“But… are you sure?”

“Yes, you idiot. Get your head out of your ass.”

“I… shit.”

Zayn nods, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Also, you’re not a bad person. There’s nothing wrong with feeling free and taking advantage of that. You’re on your own for the first time in your life and that’s absolutely amazing. I’m so proud of you for coming here and it’s not your fault she stole the shoes.” Louis just shakes his head.

“No. She’s not your responsibility. You don’t have to raise her and your mom is not entitled to expect you to always be there, damn it.” Zayn’s arms tense around Louis, tightening with anger.

“It’s okay,” Louis whispers.

“I’m sorry,” he says, loosening his grip. “It just makes me so angry to see you holding yourself back for nothing. You deserve the world, Lou, and you deserve to live your life. I just want you to get the chance to do so unapologetically.”

Louis rolls them over, attacking Zayn in a hug. “Thank you,” he breathes. “Thank you so much.”

Zayn runs his fingers through Louis’ hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, about Harry…”

-

Louis shows up at Harry’s dorm the next morning holding a bouquet of flowers. They’re pink daffodils, and Louis bought them with crumpled bills at a corner store off campus ten minutes ago on his way over. The dorm is relatively quiet, most students still asleep this early on a Sunday morning.

He toes the carpet nervously outside of Harry’s dorm. He and Zayn stayed up long past one beer last night, plotting. Zayn, one of the most selfless people Louis’ ever met, gave up a night of sex to assure his best friend that nothing is his fault and 'yes, you idiot, he does like you.' Louis should be buying thank-you flowers for him. But, as it is, he has a boy to woo.

He steps up and knocks, clutching the bouquet in nerves. He knows, logically, Harry isn't dating Niall. He was just... projecting or some shit. Zayn explained it to him in psychology terms but that doesn't matter now. Regardless, Louis is here to woo.

Harry opens the door wearing a loose t shirt, running shorts, and tennies, hair pushed back and toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Louis was not prepared. Harry’s mouth is foaming and his hair is on the adorable side of fluffy, giving off the appearance of a baby lion.

"Ehou!" He exclaims, words distorted by his brush. He holds up a finger, the international signal for ‘wait right here’. He runs off, and Louis hears the sound of spitting and running water in the background. Harry returns, fresh-faced with a couple of water droplets running down his chin.

“Uh, what’s up?” he wipes them off. “After the way you ran away last night I wasn’t sure when I would see you again, so.”

Louis clears his throat. “Well, young Harold, I come bearing gifts.” He raises the flowers, holding them out for Harry. “I wanted to apologize for last night and the way I’ve been acting in general. I, well, I left because I was embarrassed. But that doesn’t matter anymore, because I’m here now. With flowers that are most definitely for you.”

Louis extends the flowers further, Harry finally happily grasping them. He inhales their scent, eyes shining and grin never leaving his face. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if his face has been stuck in that expression forever. His eyes are still shining. “I’m guessing this means you don’t regret our almost-kiss?”

“No,” Louis shakes his head, deadpanning. “I do. I regret it so very much.” He watches Harry’s face drop, confused, and continues. “I regret the way I didn’t kiss the daylights out of you, last night, and I regret not kissing you at every opportunity I’ve ever had. I regret not telling you how I feel about you and acting like I don’t feel anything at all. I regret thinking you and Niall were dating for the past two months,” Harry gawfs out a laugh at that. “But most of all, I regret wasting time being stupid for you, when I could’ve wasted time being stupid with you.” He nods, pleased.

Harry’s face has returned to the ever present grin, those breathtaking dimples appearing. “You like me, too? So, does this mean I get to kiss you now?”

“Yes,” Louis affirms, stepping forward. “Yes, please kiss me.”

Harry drops the flowers, running and jumping on him while latching his legs around Louis’ waist in the middle of the hallway. Louis feels his legs, feels his wonderful hands as they press themselves against Louis’ neck, feels his lovely lips as they clash with his own. He slides his hands under Harry’s bum, squeezing a bit as he helps support him.

“I can’t believe you thought I was dating Niall,” Harry mutters between his teeth, biting Louis’ lip with a giggle. Louis can’t believe he has this wonderful boy as his own. He pushes all thoughts of family and money and failure out of his mind, putting all of his focus into kissing Harry back.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Styles,” and he bites back. They’re both giggling into each other’s mouths when Niall finds them ten minutes later. He snaps a picture, sending it to Liam and Zayn with a caption of took them long enough.