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Baby Shark

Summary:

They are hanging out in the common area one afternoon, not long after, when Liam kicks his feet up on the table and says, “Did you know that apparently when you get a song stuck in your head, it’s because your soulmate is singing it?”

Niall lets out a laugh. “Hey, that’s kinda sick. Imagine finding your soulmate because they are singing what’s been in your head all day.”

Louis has little crinkles above his eyebrows, the ones that mean he is thinking hard.
“That’s cool and all, but who the fuck has been singing baby shark at three am for the past god-knows how long?”

 

Or, the one where Harry has a little bit of difficulty sleeping, and his choice of music is...questionable.

Notes:

I saw this prompt on twitter and decided to write a little one-shot. It's a bit messy, was written very quickly, but I hope you like!
Let me know if you find any errors :)

Have a lovely day and remember to tpwk!

Work Text:

Harry wouldn’t say he’s an insomniac. Not really. But he does have a tendency to go on cleaning sprees in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep. It started out as homesickness, waking up to a room of the four sleeping boys, wishing that he could talk to his mom about all of the crazy things that had happened to him, but it is turning into a habit. He goes to sleep around ten with the others, but finds himself awake around two, with restless legs and an active mind. 

He tries to go back to sleep. He really does. But one night, as he is shifting around, unable to get comfortable, he hears Louis mumbling something from the bunk below him. 

“Hazza…” 

He freezes. Tries to keep still.

“Go to sleep, love. You’re shaking the whole bed.”

It sounds sleepy, but it’s clear that his movement has woken Louis. 

“Sorry.” He whispers. “Just restless.”

“S’alright, just…” he sighs, “I dunno, go walk around. You can cuddle with me after.”

Harry definitely isn’t going to pass up an opportunity to cuddle with Louis, not when he sleeps better tucked in Louis’ arms, with Louis’ breath on his neck. He climbs off his bunk, careful not to wake the others. As he leaves, he peeks at Louis, seeing him nuzzled into his pillow, mouth slightly parted, seemingly back asleep.

Sneaking out of the room, Harry tiptoes down to the kitchen, hoping that some tea might calm him down. Of course, when he gets there, he turns on the light to an absolute disaster. Right. He lives in a house with a bunch of rowdy teenagers. For shit’s sake. 

His fingers itch with the urge to clean it up. Well, at least that might tire him out.

Harry has never minded cleaning, preferring to help his mom in the kitchen rather than hanging out with the boys from school. He assumed that was a result of only having a sister. 

Of course, Louis has three sisters and still can’t clean up a single thing. His brain helpfully supplies. 

Yeah, yeah. We know Louis can’t clean but what else am I here for?

As he sets about cleaning up the stray dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, he catches himself humming a tune he can't remember all of the words to and doesn’t quite care to think about. 

“Baby shark doo doo,” He mumbles under his breath. “Doo, doo, do do.”

It runs through his head while he cleans, and, as the curse of being a singer, he hums aloud the whole time. 

Once the kitchen is cleaned to his liking, dishes washed and put away, he can feel exhaustion weighing down his limbs and huffs a little laugh. Louis has good advice. Sometimes. 

He stumbles through the dark room back to his bed and, after a moment of deliberation, sits down on Louis’ bed. 

“Morning, Haz.” Louis mumbles.

“S’not morning yet. Just wanted to cuddle.” He murmurs back sheepishly.

Louis blinks up at him and lifts an arm up, pulling the blanket back with it. “Come ‘ere then.”

Harry smiles and snuggles up to Louis, feeling an arm settle over his side. 

“Go to sleep, love.” 

“G’night Lou.”

 

*******

 

Harry wakes up the next morning to a loud crash in a nearby room, followed by what sounds like Niall’s exclamation of…pain? He isn’t awake enough to be able to tell.

“Wha..?” Louis asks from behind him, voice raspy in a way that Harry hasn’t heard before. It is ridiculously cute. Louis is ridiculously cute. And Harry is ridiculously gone for this boy. 

Harry just sighs and presses backwards into Louis’ chest, wishing he could stay there all morning. Safe. Content.

Seemingly thinking the same thing, Louis tightens his arms around Harry, burying his face in the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. 

Sadly, their peace doesn’t last. Niall opens the door and waltzes in, all bright-eyed and loud. “Harry.” 

“What do you want.” Harry groans, knowing that it can’t be good.

“I think Zayn broke the toaster. He dropped it on my foot.” Niall declares, sounding unfazed by this. “My foot is fine, but the toaster isn’t heating my bread up.”

“What the hell…? What am I supposed to do about that?” Harry whines.

“Fix it? You know how to work that thing better than me.” Niall shrugs.

“M’not getting up yet. It’s too early.” 

“Would you shut up, Niall? I’m tryna sleep, mate.” Louis picks an arm up for long enough to shoo Niall out of the room before dropping back to his original position.

“Fine.” Niall huffs. “Have your…snuggle time. I guess I’ll find someone else to fix the toaster.” 

Harry can tell Niall isn’t actually upset, but he feels a twinge of guilt for not helping.

“Don’t you dare go out there.” Louis says.

“I wasn’t gonna.”

“Yes, you were. I can feel the guilt coming off of you, you lump. They can deal with the damn toaster themselves. I can’t deal with being cold by myself, so you’re stuck here.”

Harry has to smile at that. “S’that right? I’m your heater now?”

“Mmhm.” Louis tucks his face back into Harry’s neck, searching for warmth.

The feel of Louis’ lips on his spine sends a rush of giddiness through him, goosebumps breaking out along his arms. 

“Cold, love?” Louis asks, lips still pressed into his neck.

He is quite warm, in fact, the contact causing a flash of heat to run through his body. 

“Just a little,” Harry breathes out, hoping Louis won’t comment on the airiness of his voice.

Louis simply hums in agreement and pulls the blanket tighter around them. 

His arms slip lower, wrapping around Harry’s waist, and Harry has to focus on his breathing. 

Bloody hell. And he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Harry closes his eyes, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs. Stupid crush.

Sometimes when Louis gets a little too close, Harry gets a bit overwhelmed, forgetting to actually inhale and exhale. (One time, he almost passed out. Thank god for Liam, who had prodded his shoulder and asked him a question, forcing Harry to breathe).

Despite the fact that Harry knows he is falling too fast for a boy he barely knows, he can’t find it in himself to be upset. He gets to cuddle, gets to feel Louis’ arms around him, gets to wake up with Louis’ face smushed in his back. It’s a pretty good deal.

Louis lets out a contented sigh, and Harry assumes he is asleep again. After a few minutes, Harry carefully shifts so that he is on his back and can look at Louis. Even in his sleep, Louis’ arms hold him close, moving slightly with Harry’s change in position.

Harry lets out a soft breath, tracing patterns on Louis’ shoulder, feeling him snuffle against his skin, reveling in the fact that he got so lucky. And slightly unlucky. 

He didn’t think he would fall asleep, but next thing he knows, he’s being shaken awake by Liam, who is rambling about some rehearsal they have to get to. Louis is gone from his bed, and Harry pretends he isn’t disappointed about that. 

 

*******

 

After their dress rehearsal, where they run Total Eclipse of the Heart for the final time and learn that they are actually going to be looking like vampires on the show, Louis decides that they are in need of some fun. And in Louis’ mind, that involves pranking people. 

That’s how, less than an hour before they are supposed to perform, Harry finds himself in a dressing room, looking like he is bleeding out of his eyes, and waiting for Louis to tell him what to do. It is unclear exactly how this is supposed to go, but Harry figures he’ll do just about anything if Louis asks him to. 

They have been sitting there for a while, and Harry feels like he should make sure Louis actually has a plan for this, because he is crouching in a position that he knows is going to make his leg fall asleep and Louis’ face is so close, too close, and his lips look so soft, and he really wants to kiss him and–

Turns out, hiding in a dressing room is not great when a bunch of stylists are running around making sure everything is in place, popping into unoccupied dressing rooms. He and Louis get caught just as they are about to ambush Liam and Zayn. Who look suspiciously like they have been both off making out with people.

(Harry isn’t one to talk, but he does wonder if the amount of time they spend “practicing” is really a codeword for making out. And he presumes it is with each other, no matter how much they claim to be just best friends). 

Of course, when the stylist barges into the dressing room, Louis ends up letting out a high-pitched squeal that has Harry in stitches on the floor and Liam and Zayn coming in to check on them. 

“You good, mate?” Liam asks, looking very confused at the scene in front of him.

“I’m fine. Totally fine.” Louis says, in a voice that somehow seems to be covering up a fake-shocked reaction, which sends Harry into another fit of giggles.

“I don’t even want to know what you two were up to.” Liam shakes his head. 

Harry looks up to see Zayn holding in laughter, and starts giggling at the contrast between Liam’s face and Zayn’s. 

Zayn breaks into a grin, which Harry counts as a win.

“Looks like these two weren’t expecting to be caught trying to catch us.” Zayn nudges Liam.

Harry stops laughing and raises his eyebrows at that. “You knew? ” 

“Babes, you obviously were about to jump out on us.”

“Ugh.” Louis says, “Stop being smart, Zaynie. Give me some of that.”

“Nah, I think I prefer it this way.”

The smirk on Zayn’s face seems to confuse Liam, and Harry can only let out another giggle. Liam and Zayn. They are so perfect for eachother. 

“Boys?” Another voice calls from the other side of the room.

“I guess that’s our cue to get ready to perform, boys.” Louis says, pulling Harry up by the arms (Harry doesn’t go a little lightheaded at knowing that Louis is strong enough to pick him up. Definitely not).

 

 *******

 

That night, Harry wakes up again, after a particularly nice dream where he had been sitting on Louis’ lap, Louis’ hands in his hair and his mouth trailing along Harry’s jaw. 

He’s pretty sad he woke up, in all honesty. 

Not wanting to wake Louis (again), he slides out of bed and makes his way to the kitchen to find something to clean.

Of course, he thinks about the night before, where he had spent the whole time singing that stupid shark song, which gets it back in his head. Before he knows it, he is whisper-singing about a baby shark and dancing around a dimly-lit kitchen. He should feel stupid.

But hey, it’s a catchy song.

“Baby….shark!” He points a dirty spatula at the far side of the room. “Doo, doo. Doo. Doo. Do do.”

And that’s how he spends the next hour cleaning the X-factor house’s kitchen. 

Wow. What a life he lives. 

 

****

 

Harry actually looks up the lyrics the next morning, because singing about a baby shark and then a mommy shark and daddy shark is starting to get repetitive. He laughs out loud at the lyrics - the person is assumed to either have a very happy ending, or can be violently devoured by a shark.

“What’s funny, Haz?” Louis asks from across the room. 

And Harry must be imagining it, but is that a hint of jealousy in Louis’ voice? 

No. Louis is not into you. He is not. 

“Nothing.” He says, trying to sound nonchalant but probably utterly failing, as he tends to in situations involving Louis. 

Louis pouts, but doesn’t say anything else, just sits there (and really, it should be illegal how pretty he looks, just sitting there, all cheekbones and blue eyes).

Harry has been trying not to cling to Louis at every possible moment, in case Louis realizes that every time Harry springs up to use the restroom it’s because he’s right there and god, he’s so pretty, and Harry really is only a 16-year-old boy, so what can he do? But it’s increasingly difficult to avoid cuddling, because Louis keeps sprawling on large open spaces like he’s inviting Harry to sit on him. Stupid, stupid crush.

He barely makes it another minute before he stands up, stretches, and tries to act casual as he relocates next to Louis.

He’s not so casual that he misses the little smile that flashes across Louis’ face as he sits down.

“Was wondering when you’d join me, Curly.” Louis says.

Harry does nothing but sigh and lean over to rest on Louis’ shoulder.

“I noticed you got up again last night.” Louis’ arm has wrapped around Harry now, hand resting on Harry’s shoulder, “Everything alright?”

“M’fine, Lou. Just get antsy in the middle of the night sometimes.” Harry replies, twisting his head up to look at Louis. He’s so pretty.

“If you ever need to cuddle, you can just come down and get in my bed, okay?” 

Shit. Free access to Louis’ cuddles? Shit. Shit. 

He feels his cheeks heat up, and nuzzles his head back into Louis’ chest to hide his face. “Okay.”

 

*******

 

The next night, when he wakes up, Harry brings his phone out to the kitchen with him. There isn’t much to clean up, but he puts on the “Baby Shark” song, because why not. 

He cleans. He sings. He goes back to the room and cuddles up with Louis.

 

*******

 

They are hanging out in the common area one afternoon, not long after, when Liam kicks his feet up on the table and says, “Did you know that apparently when you get a song stuck in your head, it’s because your soulmate is singing it?”

Niall lets out a laugh. “Hey, that’s kinda sick. Imagine finding your soulmate because they are singing what’s been in your head all day.”

Louis has little crinkles above his eyebrows, the ones that mean he is thinking hard.

“That’s cool and all, but who the fuck has been singing baby shark at three am for the past god-knows how long?”

Harry freezes, feels his body stiffen where he had been relaxed into Louis’ side.

Louis shifts slightly, looking down at him. “You good, Hazza?”

“I…uh…yeah…I’m…gonna go to the…uh…bathroom?” He stutters out, quickly standing up and hurrying out of the room, banging his shoulder against the door as he flees.

“Weird. Uhm.” He hears Louis say from behind him.

He doesn’t stop until he reaches their room, flopping down face-first into Louis’ bed.

Of course, he gets a facefull of Louis, which doesn’t help his current predicament at all.

It was a joke. It wasn’t real. Soulmates aren’t real. He thinks, over and over. It’s just a coincidence. 

He knows he has been acting weird. He knows Louis doesn’t like him. He knows Louis wants to be his friend, and that’s it. He knows. He knows. He knows. 

He really, really wants to tell Louis everything.

Mid-crisis, there is a soft knock on the door. “Harry?” 

It’s Louis. Of course it’s Louis. 

The door opens slowly, and Harry doesn’t move his face from the pillow.

“Harry, love, are you alright? You kinda ran out on me there.”

Harry just buries his face further down in the bedding. He can tell Louis sits down, the dip in the mattress sliding him down just enough that his hips are against Louis, and he feels like crying.

“Haz?” Louis asks, running a hand along his back. “What’s wrong?”

Harry just shakes his head.

“Do you want a cuddle?”

Harry will never turn down Louis if he asks to cuddle, so he rolls onto his side and holds his arms out. Louis stretches out beside him and wraps him in his arms. 

“Is this about the baby shark thing?” Louis jokingly asks, poking Harry’s cheek.

And all Harry can do is nod, which draws a short intake of breath from Louis.

“Wait, actually?”

“Uhm. Yeah.” Harry blushes, wishing he could hide.

“Harry.” Louis shakes his head. “You’ve been singing Baby Shark when you can’t sleep.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and Harry nods again, still wishing that the ground would swallow him up.

There’s silence for too long, and Harry can feel tears welling up in his eyes. A finger brushes over his cheek, a hand rests on his face.

“Harry, look at me, love?” His voice is so, so gentle. More gentle than Harry has ever heard it before. And Harry can’t resist that voice, he looks up at Louis, stares at his impossibly blue eyes.

“Lou, I don’t want to mess anything up, I swear. And I really don’t believe in the soulmate stuff, but if it is a thing, I don’t want this to change anything between us because I love you and-”

“Can I kiss you?” Louis blurts out, cutting him off.

Harry stares, mouth slightly parted, unsure of what he just heard. 

“Have I been totally reading the signals wrong? Li told me he thought you–”

Harry cuts him back off by pressing his lips to Louis’. It’s gentle, soft. There’s a tingling running through his body, a buzzing that is filling his brain. 

When he pulls back, Louis just stares for a moment, eyes wide.

“Oh.” He says.

“Was that…was that alright?” Harry asks timidly.

Louis doesn’t say anything, just leans back in to kiss Harry again. The hand that was resting on Harry’s cheek moves to the back of his neck, pulling him in. 

Harry melts. He thinks he might be dying. In the best way possible. 

Louis kisses him so tenderly, so unlike his usual brash personality, kisses him like he is made of glass, holds onto him like he might float away. 

And he might. He’s dangerously close to feeling like he could drift into the air at any moment. Louis’ lips are on his, Louis’ breath is on his mouth, Louis’ tongue is gently tracing his lower lip. 

Louis. Louis. Louis. Louis. Louis. Louis. Louis.

Harry’s brain is on repeat, feeling nothing but the press of Louis’ mouth, the pressure of his hands, and then Louis pulls away, and Harry just swallows deeply, savoring the taste of Louis.

“Shit, Hazza.” Louis murmurs. “You’re like, really good at that.”

Harry lets out a little giggle. “You’re one to talk.” 

And Louis kisses him again, just a quick peck, before sitting back up on the bed.

Harry sits up with him, drawing his legs in as he readjusts. 

“So,” Louis starts.

“So.” Harry smiles back. “I take it you don’t mind me singing Baby Shark at three am?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Curly. I’d still appreciate some variety in my life.”