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Under the bleachers 50yd line
Harry smiles at the text and stands, reaching his arms above his head and relishing the stretch from sitting on the metal grandstands in the cold for three quarters plus halftime. As the whistle blows and the teams change lineups, he stares down Niall as he runs off of the field until he takes his helmet off on the sideline, finally making eye contact. Harry points his thumb over his shoulder and gives him a quick wave, receiving an eye roll and a sarcastic salute in response.
He makes his way down the few steps to the walkway along the stands where the accessible ramp leads to the large paved area between the field and the concessions, then he turns to head around the back of the bleachers and into the darkness of a mid-autumn Friday night.
In the distorted beams of light from the slats between the seats, he can barely make out the shape of two familiar bodies huddled close. Still a few paces away, the toe of his shoe catches a small rock and sends it skittering across the ground, drawing their attention.
“Harold,” Louis says, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his varsity jacket. Harry’s heart does not stutter at the sound of his voice, and even if it did no one would be able to hear it anyway.
“Hey, Lou. Hi, Zayn.”
“Hey, man,” Zayn says with a brief nod.
The shadows make it hard to see much of anything besides general shapes but he swears he can feel Louis eyeing him up and down. It might be wishful thinking.
“We’re gonna go for a drive and then come back for the end of the game. Wanna come with us?” He can see a flash of off-white teeth as Louis sends a half-smirk at him to emphasize the fact that they both know it’s really not a question. If Louis invites him, Harry will always say yes.
“Yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”
Zayn snorts and turns to lead the way to his old, beat up Buick. As they step into the glow of the streetlamps, Louis winks at Harry before following Zayn, leaving him to hustle to be able to walk next to them. He sidles up next to Louis as they walk through the parking lot, Zayn droning on about something from a class earlier that day. The lights flash on the car as they close in on it and Zayn hits the unlock on his key, Louis walking around to hop in the passenger side while Harry slides into the backseat behind Zayn.
Not two minutes away from the school and certainly still visible from the streetlights in town, Louis pops open the glovebox and pulls out an old pill canister. He unscrews the cap and tips the bottle so a lighter and the few rolled joints inside fall into his hand. Harry watches as he pops one between his lips and shoves the others back inside, putting the cap back on and closing it inside the compartment. Louis turns and makes eye contact with him as he lights the joint, winking at him again after taking a long drag.
“Quit flirting and pass it,” Zayn mumbles just loud enough to be heard over the low hum of the radio. Louis rolls his eyes and hands it to Zayn, but Harry doesn’t miss the way his cheeks go a little pinker even in the shadows of the car. Zayn takes a hit and Harry watches the way the smoke floats out of his mouth before returning his gaze to Louis’s face before Zayn reaches his arm behind his head, holding the joint out for Harry to take.
“Nah, I’m good for now. Thanks, Z.” Louis takes it from him instead, continuing the almost-routine they’ve established from the few times they’ve done this together over the last few weeks. After a few minutes of passing it back and forth, Louis huffs and turns his upper body so he’s leaning on the center console and stares him down with slightly hazy eyes until he decides to take things into his own hands; literally. He unbuckles his seatbelt, ignoring an annoyed breath from Zayn, and starts climbing in between the front seats.
“What are you doing?” Harry asks with a short laugh. Louis just grunts in return.
“Louis, for fuck’s sake.” Harry can see the way Zayn’s shoulders tense as he tightens his grip on the wheel. “Sit down, you dick. You’re gonna make us crash or get pulled over or something.”
Louis finally tumbles into the backseat and rights himself before reaching forward to the front again to steal the joint from Zayn’s hand. He scoots closer to Harry once he has it, resting his hand on Harry’s knee and leaning in to speak quietly between the two of them. Harry’s traitorous heart leaps in his chest again.
“You remember what to do, Haz?” He says it so sincerely and sweetly that Harry can’t help but to shake off the embarrassment of being reminded of how inexperienced he is.
“Yeah, I remember. S’just…”
“Just what, babe?” The flutter kicks back up in Harry’s chest as their eyes meet. Louis never calls him babe in front of anyone, not even Zayn who has known about their situation basically since it started over the summer.
“Just nervous, still, y’know. I liked the pipe better than this last weekend.” Louis smiles and squeezes the hand still resting on Harry’s knee.
Zayn snaps his fingers at them good-naturedly and glances at Harry in the rear view mirror before going back to watching the road. “Don’t feel like you have to, man. You know how we are. I don’t care if you do or don’t, but don’t feel like we’re pressuring you.”
“Yeah,” Harry says back, shaking his hair out in front of his face and sweeping his bangs to the side again. “I know. I want to, I’m just not used to it still.”
“Don’t worry about it, dude, seriously. We’ve only done this, what? Like, four times? Lou didn’t start smoking with me until last year so I get it.” And Harry’s heard this before, every time they’ve done this to be precise, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Because the thing is, he does want to smoke with them. He likes how he feels when he’s high, and he likes how touchy Louis is when he’s high, and he especially likes how good certain things feel when he and Louis get to their post-smoke activities. But Zayn doesn’t need to hear about all of that.
“What if I help you?” Louis says into his ear. Harry’s nose twitches to try to hold back his smile. He rests his hand on top of Louis’s still on his knee, lacing their fingers, and he shrugs. “Like I did last time.”
“Yeah, alright.” Louis gives him another dazzling smile and brings the joint to his own lips, lighting it again after it had died out while they talked. He takes a short puff and exhales to the ceiling, then takes a longer drag and holds it in while he hands it off to Zayn. He turns to face Harry then, reaching up to cup his face, and runs a thumb over Harry’s bottom lip.
Harry sighs and lets his eyelids slip shut, dropping his mouth open and relaxing his jaw like Louis taught him. He can feel Louis leaning in, closing the distance between their faces. Their lips meet in a not-quite-kiss, Louis using his tongue to separate Harry’s lips further. As Louis slowly exhales the smoke in his lungs into Harry’s mouth, Harry tries to breathe in and loses himself in the feeling of Louis holding him so close. Even after months of being able to touch like this, he’s still not used to it.
He comes back to himself as he feels Louis laughing against him and he smiles instinctively.
“Hazza, you dope. You didn’t even get any,” Louis says as he and Zayn chuckle fondly. Harry laughs with them and drops his eyes to Louis’s lips. “Let’s try that again. Breathe in deep, this time.” Harry nods and leans in but is stopped by a hand on his chest. Louis just raises his eyebrows as he takes another hit. Louis runs his hand up Harry’s chest as his lungs fill, then wraps his hand around the side of Harry’s neck and pulls him in to connect their mouths again.
Harry tries his best to stay focused on inhaling this time, breathing deep and letting the smoke consume him rather than the energy radiating off of Louis. It burns, and he never remembers how bad it hurts until he’s in the thick of it again. He relaxes his shoulders, brings a hand up to cup Louis’s face in return, and works on keeping his nerves contained; it wouldn’t do to force himself into a bad trip just because of his anxiety.
He loses track of how long their lips have been connected but as he opens his eyes he realizes the smoke that must have come out of his own lungs has dissipated already. Louis kisses him then, a real, actual kiss, even if it is just a peck, but Louis kissed him and, again, in front of Zayn. He can’t tell if it’s because Louis’s already high or if he’s finally coming around to the idea of not hiding what they have anymore, but he’s foolishly and childishly excited either way. He beams at Louis and sees the crinkles by his eyes spread as he returns the smile, and he grabs Louis’s face with both hands this time to pull him back into another kiss.
“Alright, kids,” Zayn’s voice startles them apart, but they don’t separate much. “Leave all that for later when I’m not around to see or hear things. Please.”
Louis laughs loudly, slapping his hand down onto Harry’s knee again and softening the shock of it with a light squeeze. As he maneuvers himself back into the front seat, he says, “You wish you could see what me and Haz do when you’re not around.”
Harry thinks back to the last time they were alone together and his face flushes a brilliant shade of red. Zayn catches his eye in the mirror again and shakes his head in exasperation.
“Whatever. You guys are gross.” A few beats pass where Harry’s composure slips just the slightest and he begins to question how Zayn actually feels about their situation, but before he can spiral too much, his voice brings him back to the surface again. “Like, in a good way, Hazza. Obviously,” he adds with a small, encouraging smile.
The ride back to the school is short, the three of them passing the joint until it’s nearly gone. Zayn throws it out the window a block from the school and rolls all of the windows down to air out the car. Harry wraps himself tighter in his jacket and Louis cranks up the heat as he lets out a slew of complaints about the cold.
Once they’re parked in the back of the lot again, Zayn turns the car off and throws the keys into Louis’s lap. He opens his door and says over his shoulder, “Don’t get any cum on my seats again.” Louis laughs loudly again and Harry tucks his chin to his chest, avoiding looking either of them in the eye. He’s still not used to how they talk so openly about these things but he giggles despite how he feels about it. “I’m serious, Lou. You’ll have to pay to get my car cleaned. I’m not dealing with that again.” He slams the door, leaving the two of them sitting in the dark, and walks toward the football field.
“Whatever you say, Zaynie!” Louis shouts through the open window. All he gets in return is Zayn’s middle finger lifted above his shoulder. Once Louis decides he’s far enough away, he turns the car on to roll the windows up again and leaves the radio playing. He then turns in his seat and aims a mischievous grin right at Harry. He crawls over the center console again, much more gracefully this time, and settles himself snugly against Harry’s side.
Louis runs his hand through the front of Harry’s hair, brushing his bangs to the side and smiling fondly. “How’re you doing, babe?” Harry’s heart fills to the brim and it feels like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded, with his head floating around and his body acting on its own as it leans even closer to Louis.
“Good. Feel good,” he says with a wide grin and slightly squinted eyes.
Louis hums and moves his hand from Harry’s hair to his neck as he leans in, murmuring quietly between them, “Bet we can get you to feel even better.”
“Yeah,” Harry responds breathily.
It’s not their first kiss of the night but it’s certainly the most electric, the most passionate. Harry’s fingers tingle as he runs them up Louis’s chest. The slick slide of their lips has his head spinning even faster, hardly able to believe how lucky he is that this is his life, that he’s lucky enough to get to have Louis like this. He groans into his mouth as Louis slips his hand under the hem of his shirt.
Louis pulls away and Harry tries to chase his lips but he’s held in place by his hand again. Louis throws a leg over his lap and straddles him, and, oh , they’re already at the point where Louis’s getting impatient. Harry smiles wide and Louis rolls his eyes with a smirk. Louis grabs the back of his own shirt, yanks it over his head, and throws it to the side. He grabs Harry by the face again and pulls him into a bruising kiss, and Harry moans outright when he feels him starting to grind down.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he says as he runs his hands up Louis’s bare back and down again to the waistband of his jeans. Louis pushes him to the side and keeps gently shoving and manhandling him until he’s laying across the seat. He rucks Harry’s shirt up and kisses down his neck, slowly making his way down the skin he’s exposed. Harry keeps his hands on Louis’s shoulders, running his fingers over the back of his neck and across his shoulder blades as he moves further down.
“Put your hands behind your head,” Louis says between breaths, and Harry complies, throwing his head back as he feels deft fingers pop the button on his jeans. “Let me blow your mind.” Harry moans loudly as his jeans and boxers are pulled down to the tops of his thighs, just far enough.
It’s the last Friday before Spring Break and Harry’s sitting in his last class of the day, staring out the window instead of working on the assignment that’s due before the bell rings. His phone buzzes twice in quick succession in his pocket and it startles him back into the present, glancing around the room and finding his classmates in similar states of distraction; even their teacher is not-so-subtly texting under his desk.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it just out of sight to find a text from Louis. His heart automatically kicks up a few gears, hammering in his chest as he unlocks his phone.
Mom’s working doubles so the girls are going with my grandparents all weekend
House will be empty for us ;)
He can feel his chest and face immediately flush bright red and he shifts in his seat as he feels his dick twitch in his pants. He locks his phone and looks around the room again. Niall’s staring at him with an unimpressed look from the seat next to him, flipping his pen around in his hand and drumming the fingers of his other hand on the desktop. Harry offers him a shaky smile and tries to subtly take a deep breath.
Niall flips his notebook to a blank page and messily scrawls a quick note to him.
Guessing we’re not hanging out tonight then??
Harry smiles sheepishly and raises his eyebrows in question as he mouths, “After?” Niall rolls his eyes and looks away. He’d be more worried if Niall wasn’t so chill about everything. As it is, he unlocks his phone again and sends a text to Niall, I’ll be there after. Won’t be too late
He hits send and goes back to his conversation with Louis, his cheeks heating up again at the implication of his messages.
Can’t wait :)
Less than thirty minutes later, the final bell rings. He stands along with everyone else, collects his things, turns in his assignment that he somehow completed in his daze, and walks through the halls with Niall as he makes his way to the parking lot to meet Gemma at the car.
“So you’re going to Lover Boy’s tonight, then?” Niall asks, his voice mostly muted by the din of countless conversations surrounding them, but Harry still casts his eyes around to make sure no one overheard.
“I said I’d still come to your place tonight. Just, like… After.” Niall laughs loudly and slaps him on the shoulder, making him wince.
“Yeah, alright. Whatever you say. I’m not picking you up from his house when you’re done ,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Well I can’t ask Gemma to pick me up.”
“She still doesn’t know?” Harry shakes his head and Niall snorts. “I’m surprised. I figured she would have found out by now. You guys aren’t exactly sneaky.”
“I don’t really want my sister to know what we do, thanks.”
“Still. I can’t come get you. Maybe he can drop you off.”
“Maybe. Anyway, I gotta get to the car before she leaves me but I’ll see you later,” Harry says as he turns to head toward the parking lot rather than their lockers.
“Text me before you get to my place!” Niall yells as they part and Harry throws a thumbs-up over his head as he shoulders the door open. He jogs to the car where Gemma is waiting with a furrowed brow, impatiently tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.
He hops into the passenger seat, the car already running and her playlist cranked up. She raises her brows at him over her sunglasses before racing out of the parking lot and heading home. The ride is spent in comfortable silence, Harry watching the familiar surroundings pass through the window and bobbing his head to the music.
Their mom’s car isn’t in the drive when they pull in and Harry thanks his lucky stars that he won’t have to talk to her before he leaves, certain that he’d get questions about his plans for the night and he can’t lie to her, even when he tries. He runs up the stairs and throws his backpack down on his bed, then steps over to his dresser to grab the essentials to throw into his duffle bag: his favorite hoodie, a pair of threadbare sweatpants, a t-shirt and shorts for the next day, and boxers, a few pairs because, as he’s embarrassedly learned the hard way, he can’t trust his dick when Louis’s around.
He hops down the stairs, drops his bag on the last step, and moves into the kitchen for a quick snack and a couple bottles of water. Gemma’s standing in the corner, leaned up against the counter, scrolling through her phone.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks as he slides past her to get in the refrigerator.
Without looking up, she says, “We’re all going to Jenny’s for a movie night.”
“Sounds fun.”
She hums noncommittally and locks her phone, setting it down on the counter beside her hip, and crosses her arms. “Where are you going?”
He coughs and clears his throat, takes a sip of one of his waters, and starts to peel a banana. “I’m going to Niall’s tonight.” She doesn’t say anything back and he finally lifts his head to meet her eyes, a carefully-blank expression masking her thoughts.
After a few increasingly tense seconds, she finally grabs her phone and starts to walk out of the room. Without turning to look at him, she says, “Sure. Have fun!”
Rather than sticking around to see if she’ll call him out on his half-truth, he scurries to grab his bag, shove his waters in it, and get out of there.
“Bye, Gem!” he yells as he slams the door shut.
He jogs down the walkway and starts out on his way to Louis’s house. He slides the side zipper of his bag open and pulls out his tangled headphones, looping the cord through itself to straighten it out. He pops his earbuds in and plugs in the cord, opening up his newest playlist, simply titled Blue . Billie Eilish’s voice softly crooning about ocean-colored eyes accompanies him for the first few minutes on his way back toward the school. He sends a quick text to his mom explaining he’ll be at Niall’s tonight, not a lie but certainly not the whole truth, and walks as quickly as he can across town.
The last notes of the doorbell float through the air as he stands outside of Louis’s house, a slight sheen of sweat coating his overheated body from the trip in the unrelenting spring sun. The door flies open and a golden-tan arm darts out to grab him by the front of his shirt, yanking him inside. His bag drops to the floor as he’s shoved against the wall, Louis’s hands roving over his shoulders and the sides of his neck before he lays a searing kiss on Harry’s mouth.
They stumble their way up the stairs, bumping into the walls and pushing at each other's clothes until they fall onto Louis’s bed together. Louis flings Harry’s boxers across the room and pins his hips down with clammy palms, keeping eye contact as he lowers himself down to where Harry’s aching.
Louis teases him with short licks around his tip, an intense look overtaking his face as more precum makes its way over the head and drips down onto Harry’s belly. Between sucking kisses along his shaft, Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“I know we’ve been getting close but we can’t keep this up,” Louis whispers into his sensitive skin. Harry’s dick twitches at the feeling, but his stomach drops as he registers the words.
“What do you mean?” Harry props himself up on his elbows and tries to meet Louis’s eyes.
Louis sighs and, again, his traitorous cock kicks at the sensation. Louis smiles at it but it fades quickly. “I’m a senior, Haz.”
“Yeah. And?”
“And you’re a freshman. I’m going to college next year and you still have three more years here. This isn’t going to work out.” Harry tries his best to hold back the tears welling up in his eyes. At least his dick finally picked up on the mood, flagging as they stare blankly at each other. “We can keep doing this stuff for now but it has to end soon. Graduation is only two months away.”
“Okay.” Somehow, miraculously, his voice doesn’t crack even as it feels like there’s a canyon forming between each of his ribs.
Louis lifts himself up to kiss him, grabs him by the hair at the base of his skull and pulls him closer to deepen it. He slips one hand down Harry’s body to wrap around his cock again, pumping him slowly back to full hardness. Harry feels like he’s dying inside but he’ll take as much time with Louis as he can, especially now that there’s an expiration date.
Later, as he walks back across town to Niall’s, he stops at the small park and sits on a bench shaded from the streetlights by a large tree. He drops his bag at his feet and lets his head fall into his hands, elbows resting on his sore knees. He lets himself cry until he thinks there can’t possibly be any tears left, and he carries on his way.
When Niall opens the door, it only takes a few seconds of staring at each other before the tears start again.
Weeks pass and Louis doesn’t text him as often. Harry still sends him little jokes and things that make him think of him but the responses are short and borderline dismissive. The only time Louis initiates a conversation anymore is when he’s apparently stoned out of his mind and doesn’t remember why he decided they needed to stop whatever this could have been.
After a particularly quiet week, Zayn passes him between classes and, instead of the usual slight nod in acknowledgement, he beelines across the hall to stand in front of where Harry’s standing with Niall by his locker.
“Hey, man.” Zayn gives him a quick smile but it’s one of the more genuine ones he’s ever gotten from him. “Hey, Niall.”
“What’s up, Zayner!” How Niall can be friends with everyone when Harry never sees him ever speak with anyone else will forever be a mystery.
Zayn just smiles a little wider but redirects his attention back to Harry. “Does he know?” Zayn asks with a nod toward Niall and a quirk of his brow.
Harry sighs and leans one shoulder against the lockers. “Yeah.”
“Good. Hey,” Zayn says again, resting a hand on Harry’s other shoulder. “Louis’s stupid. Like, actually,” he continues after he doesn’t get a reaction other than a slight lift of the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Honestly, he’s dumb and he thinks he’s doing the right thing by ending whatever this is with you before he leaves.”
Harry squints at him slightly and twirls one of his rings around his fingers. “What do you mean?”
“He got super high with me this past weekend and just, like, couldn’t stop talking about you. He’s always had trouble with not talking about you when he’s stoned, but it was just different. So I asked him about what actually happened, because I just thought it didn’t work out for whatever reason or that you were nervous about him going off to school. But he told me how much he likes you and that he doesn’t want to hurt you. He thinks he’s doing the right thing for you by making that choice for both of you, so I smacked him and told him that’s not his choice to make.”
“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” Harry furrows his brows and tries to absorb as much of this as possible before the next bell rings.
“He can’t just make those decisions for you, Harry. You two have to talk things through and make those choices together. You either agree and move on together, or you don’t and you move on alone. He can’t just tell you how you’ll feel in a year when you’re long distance or whatever.”
“Oh. That… makes sense.” Harry eyes him somewhat suspiciously and has more questions on the tip of his tongue. Then the bell rings. “How do you know this stuff?”
“My mom’s a marriage counselor and always tells us random shit. I guess some of it stuck.”
“Weird,” Harry chuckles and shuffles his feet. He’s definitely getting marked tardy but this feels more important than whatever they’re talking about in his next class.
“I think he’s coming around, Haz. Just don’t give up on him yet. Please. I haven’t seen him as happy as he is with you, and we’ve been friends since we were in diapers.”
Harry smiles again at that, imagining baby versions of Louis and Zayn. “Alright. Thanks, Zayn.”
Zayn nods and strolls away, making his way down the hall and leaving a fairly-shocked Harry and Niall standing silently.
They don’t notice the sound of dress shoes clicking against the tile until the principal walks by and says, “Class started seven minutes ago, boys. Get moving.”
Their conversation swirls around his head as they scurry off to class and throughout the rest of the day, into the next weeks as the school year comes to an end, until he finally gets the text he’s been waiting for.
Graduation day is always full of emotions for everyone. Harry and his mom cheer and cry as Gemma walks across the stage, waving to them and holding her new diploma tucked to her side with the other hand.
His heart clenches and his ears ring a little longer after Louis’s name is called. He watches him walk across the stage, smiling and pulling faces for his siblings sitting on the other side of the crowd. He claps along with everyone else and no one knows how much it hurts to see him happy like this because no one, other than Niall and Zayn, know about their history.
After the ceremony, the graduates and their portions of the crowd all gather in clusters in the paved space between the football field and the concessions. People are laughing and crying, hugging and taking pictures. Harry’s family has already taken all the pictures they wanted, now making their way to the parking lot to head home for a late lunch with their relatives that are visiting to celebrate Gemma’s graduation.
As he rounds the corner of the ramp leading up to the metal grandstands, now radiating a harsh heat from the early summer sun, his phone buzzes in his hand.
Under the bleachers 50yd line
Harry’s brows pinch together for a second, rereading the name at the top of his screen a third and fourth time. He steps out of the line of people walking toward the parking lot and stretches up onto his toes, craning his neck to see over the crowd.
Under the bleachers, a lone figure stands facing him, their face illuminated by the reflections off of the metal seats.
He makes his way over to them, his toe catching on a pebble and sending it skittering across the pavement and out of sight. As he gets closer, the off-white of their smile still sends his belly somersaulting.
“Harold,” Louis says with a calm smile.
“Hey, Lou.”
“So… Um, I know I really messed things up with us. I’m sorry. I haven’t felt like this about anyone before, and I don’t know what’s going to happen in a few months when I go off to college. I just know that I don’t want to miss out on you, and if you’ll–”
“Louis.” He interrupts what obviously is a very well rehearsed and well thought-out apology. He doesn’t need a long explanation right now, they can talk through all of this later. Right now, he’s hungry and tired from sitting through a long ceremony, and he’d like to take Louis home to meet his mom.
He steps closer and grabs Louis’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Louis stares blankly for a moment before the corners of his mouth lift up into another small smile. Harry nudges the toe of his shoe against Louis’s, and leans in. He presses a slow, sweet kiss to Louis’s lips, squeezing their hands.
“We’ll figure it all out. Together.”