Work Text:
It starts like this:
Harry begs his mother to go to band camp. He first sees the advertisement in Alex’s room, when Alex reveals to Harry and the other boys that he’s going to be spending the majority of their summer holiday there. And honestly, if one member of their freshly formed band is going to band camp, well, they all have to go.
And besides, I’m nearly fourteen now, Mum, old enough to go to school on my own, I can go to a summer camp by myself .
Harry begs, and he begs. He begs through the months of January, and February, and March, and he has no idea when registration for this camp will end, but he’s starting to get worried that he’s not going to be able to go.
And then, finally , on a fateful Friday night in April, after Harry spends most of their evening complaining loudly about wanting to go to camp, his mum sighs, and then says, “Okay. We’ll register you in the morning.”
…
Harry gets to band camp with Alex, Roy, and Will in tow (Brad’s mum refused to sign him up). There’s a lot of people there, Harry realizes — which, duh , it’s a camp — and he’s not really sure what they’re supposed to be doing. He didn’t really register much information past this being a band camp.
The boys go into registration together to figure out what cabin they’re going to be staying in while they’re at the camp, and just to get checked in in general.
This is it. There’s no going back now, Roy’s mum has dropped them off and they’re about to get their room assignments. It’s time for band camp . Except —
“I think my number is wrong,” Harry says, eyeing the assignments the other boys got. All of theirs say Cabin 200.
Harry’s says Cabin 500.
“Styles, right?” the lady checking them in says, looking back down at the list in front of her, eyeing it up and down.
“Yes, Harry,” he says, tapping his foot on the floor. The whole point of coming to band camp is to be a band . How are they supposed to do that in separate cabins?
“Cabin 500, Love,” the lady tells Harry, peering up at him through semi-circle glasses. “One of the counselors will tell you where to go and drop your things off.”
Harry’s stomach drops.
“Sorry, Haz,” Will says as the four of them walk away from the check in table. “We’ll still see each other loads, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” Harry replies, feeling dejected anyways.
He’s not sure why it feels faintly like their band is breaking up.
…
Harry is thrown into a cabin with eleven other boys, all from different places in England. By the time he finds the cabin and gets in, all of the bunks but one has been taken.
Harry stumbles over to the bunk one of the other boys directs him to, lugging his two bags with him. Someone behind him says, “Hi,” and Harry twirls around way to fast, accidently smacking them with his bag.
“Oops,” Harry says, coming face to face with someone sticking his hand out.
“I’m Louis,” Louis says in a thick Yorkshire accent, rocking back and forth on his feet, a big grin on his face. “We’re going to be bunkmates.” His hand is still extended towards Harry.
“Harry,” Harry tells him, awkwardly raising his hand with his bag he just his Louis with. He’s a little bit breathless at Louis’ in-your-face friendliness and his energy, but it’s nice to know that he’s going to have someone friendly even though all of his friends are in a different cabin without him.
Also, Harry’s a little bit breathless by, well…
By Louis.
Admittedly, Harry is fourteen, and his heart races and his pants tighten at nearly anything, but Louis is just so pretty . He has bright blue eyes and a jaw that Harry wants to hold so so badly. There’s a little curl at the end of his hair, by his neck, and Harry just wants to reach out and pull it.
That would be wildly inappropriate for someone he just met.
He’s newly excited, though. Excited to meet Louis, excited for camp and its activities to start, and he’s excited to see what will happen this summer.
…
What happens at camp is this:
Louis.
Harry’s days and nights are filled with Louis. The activities are grouped by cabins, so everything Harry does he does with Louis. Louis is a whirlwind of hyperactivity. He’s loud , and he thrives at camp, he thrives in performing and having fun, and getting everyone’s spirits up.
No, he’s more like a tornado, to be more accurate. He sucks up everyone around him, he has everyone hanging onto his every word, and everyone wrapped around his finger.
Harry is hooked.
They connect, almost immediately, and Harry would probably kill a man if Louis asked him to.
He finds himself spending a lot of time with Louis, finds himself getting dragged into standing up during dinner and belting into songs, finds himself breaking into the music room and pretending he can play guitar, and he finds himself waking up in the middle of the night to skinny dip in the freezing cold water of the lake — all by Louis’ suggestions. Harry goes along with them all, staring at the just absolute joy that is Louis Tomlinson.
He tries not to stare too much at Louis when they go skinny dipping. Besides for the fact that he doesn’t even want to know if Louis is looking at his body or not, he really doesn’t trust himself to not have too much of a reaction at seeing Louis naked . Louis . Naked .
His initial gut reaction of, wow, Louis , was absolutely correct, and Harry’s slightly embarrassed at how quickly he’s developed a huge, fat crush on him. Everyone’s infatuated with him, yeah, but Harry feels like this runs deep, at least for him.
And the thing that thrills him the most is that Louis seems to like Harry just as much. Harry’s not stupid enough to think that Louis might fancy him back, but whenever Louis gets a brillant (stupid) idea, Harry is the first one he turns to, pulling him right along.
Harry loves the ride that is being friends with Louis.
…
It’s Louis’ idea, of course, to stay awake the whole last night of band camp. All of the other boys from their cabin have gone off to bed by the time midnight came around, claiming they needed to rest up in order to pack up and leave tomorrow, but Harry and Louis are still awake, currently laying in the grass by the lake together and staring up at the stars together.
“Can I say something maybe sort of weird?” Louis asks, breaking the comfortable silence they had been sitting in.
“You always say weird things,” Harry says, tearing his eyes away from the stars in order to push himself onto his side and look over at Louis. He finds Louis already looking over at him, his face just a couple of feet away from Harry’s. His eyes scan Harry’s face for a long moment, and Harry wrinkles his nose, feeling awfully seen .
“I know we haven’t known each other for long,” Louis starts, his eyes still roaming over Harry’s face and down his body, like he can’t keep them still, “but I think you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”
Harry hears the compliment, and it rushes over him, all cold and hot at once. He doesn’t even know how to respond.
He doesn’t get a chance to, though, because just as he opens his mouth to try and stammer his way through an answer about how he agrees, Louis leans over and gives his mouth a soft, short kiss.
And.
Well.
Harry’s brain short circuits.
Harry lets out a really embarrassing sound, somewhere between a sigh and a yelp. Louis lets out a soft giggle, and then reaches over to grab Harry’s hand. Harry doesn’t respond, but he feels comfortable in the moment, happily holding Louis’ hand as his eyes flutter shut — with joy and with tiredness.
It’s everything .
…
Harry’s never hated his mother more than he does the next day, when everyone’s getting ready to leave. They haven’t kissed again, but something does feel different between him and Louis.
Except it’s the last day of camp. And Harry lives in Cheshire and Louis lives in Doncaster, and Harry’s mother refuses to let him get an email address until he’s fifteen.
So he doesn’t have a real way to keep in contact with Louis, and Louis leaves in the morning, leaving Harry and his one singular kiss behind.
Harry’s never going to forget him. He doesn’t think he could if he tried.
…
For his fifteenth birthday, Gemma gets Harry tickets to The Script. It’s incredible. Harry loves live music, just absolutely loves it, and it’s so much fun to sing along to some of his favorite songs with his older sister. At the end of the concert, Harry races through the crowd, splitting from Gemma in the hopes of beating a line to the bathroom. He’s been needing to pee for the last few songs in their set, but no way he was missing anything.
Harry beats the line, and he relieves himself, and then heads out into the hallway to meet back up with Gemma. He spots her at the end of the hallway, looking around for him, and he keeps his eyes locked on her as he makes his way through the crowd of people. He’s not really looking where he’s going, just keeping his sights on Gemma, and he can’t stop himself before he crashes into another human being.
“Oops,” he says, the breath knocked out of him a little bit.
“Hi,” the other body says, not sounding like he got the wind pushed out of him, but sounding breathless anyway. Harry looks up and —
Holy shit, he’d know those blue eyes from across the room.
“ Louis ,” he says, and he can’t believe it, can’t believe that Louis is in front of him after over six months of not seeing each other.
“ Harry ,” Louis replies, and before Harry can say anything else, Louis is wrapping him up in his arms, and Harry feels jittery with joy.
“How are you?” he says when they pull apart after a few long moments of them hugging. It feels… important to be in Louis’ presence after so long.
“I’m good, I —”
“Harry,” Gemma’s voice comes in, cutting Louis off. She slides up next to Louis and Harry, absolutely shattering the moment, and Harry has a feeling this isn’t going to be a long reunion. “Did you find the bathroom? We need to go catch our train.”
Without giving Harry a chance to respond, Gemma grabs his hand and pulls him away from Louis.
“It was good to see you!” Louis calls as Harry gets dragged away.
And with that, he gets lost in the crowd and Harry starts to think of good ways to get revenge on Gemma.
…
Harry knows that Louis was sixteen last summer, when they went to camp together. He also knows that sixteen’s the oldest age of campers.
He doesn’t bother asking his mum to register him.
…
Apparently, nerves just make Harry really need to pee.
He’s supposed to be going on stage in five minutes for possibly the most important moment in his life, and instead of drinking water or preparing his voice, Harry is tracking down a bathroom. Having a wet spot on his trousers is probably worse than being late.
Harry’s just about finished going when he makes the mistake of looking up at the person entering the urinal next to him and —
The most embarrassing moment of Harry’s life is that, upon seeing the person he had a massive crush on and lost his first kiss to for the first time in a year and a half, he splashes actual, literal piss on him.
“Oops,” Harry says, freezing for a second before realizing that he literally has his penis out and he should really put it away.
Louis stares down at the slight wet spot on his jeans, but at the sound of Harry’s voice he snaps his head up.
“ Hi ,” he says, the zipper to his trousers halfway open, but seemingly forgotten about as he lays eyes on Harry. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m auditioning,” Harry says, letting out a little laugh. “In like five minutes. Going to go see if I have the X Factor, after all.”
“You do,” Louis says without any hesitation. Harry can feel his face soften and he smiles at Louis for a second before moving to wash his hands. He can still feel Louis’ eyes on him as he dries his hands, Louis not making any move to use the toilet himself.
“Can I take a picture of you?” Louis asks when Harry throws out his paper towel. He pulls out a phone from his pocket. “To save for when you’re famous, of course.”
Harry blushes deeply, but he replies, “Of course,” and poses with a big smile on his face. Louis takes the picture, and Harry is filled with plenty of energy for his upcoming audition.
Harry hesitates, knowing that he really should be heading backstage, but he doesn’t want to let this moment pass.
“You can set it as my profile picture,” Harry says, reaching over and grabbing Louis’ phone out of his hand. As fast as he possibly can, Harry creates a new contact and punches in his number. “Good luck with your audition,” he tells Louis, handing the phone back and heading to the door.
“I would wish you the same, but you won’t need it,” Louis says, sounding very sure of himself.
Harry grins at him, and then turns to go out the door and head to see where this will go. He’s not as sure as Louis is, but no matter how today goes, no matter how his potential future on The X Factor goes, it doesn’t really matter.
Louis has his number.
He has his Louis back.