Work Text:
A knock on a door. That’s how it all began. That’s how everything begins. A stranger enters from offstage and ends up in the middle, the light pouring down, harsh, revealing. The eyes of the audience are focused, their bodies leaning towards the action, reveling in the horror of the tragedy.
But maybe that was just Louis’ theatre mind speaking.
It was a night that just begged for something dramatic.
Louis was sitting inside his car on the top level of a carport. The air outside was chaotic, a thunderstorm brewing in the distance, dark clouds infringing upon stars already dimmed by city lights. Inside the car, the air was stagnant and full of warm sobs.
Head between his knees, hands wrapped around his upper calves, Louis was making himself as small as possible. That was the best position for crying. Many years of experience had taught him this. Many, many years.
His broken sobs filled the night air and told a story he had been telling for years: love, hate, betrayal, and heartbreak. Over and over again.
This was Louis’ position when the knock on the door came.
It echoed through the car, displacing the inert air, but Louis didn’t respond, caught up in his own sorrow. His subconscious discounted the metallic thud as some sort of strange thunder - there was a storm coming in after all.
But the knock came again, and this time it was more insistent, penetrating through the dense fog surrounding Louis’ awareness of the outside world. His lamentations stopped abruptly in the middle of a loud sob. Like a record with the needle picked up.
There was someone outside his car.
Louis had a hard time understanding this, so he thought it again. Repeat: there was someone outside his car. The thought managed to break through this time, but the sensation was not a pleasant one. Emotional whiplash - straight from the depths of sorrow to the high anxiety of fear.
It is 3 fucking am, pitch black, I am all alone, and there is someone outside my car. What the actual fuck?
Louis didn’t move, didn’t breathe, palms sweating, pulse racing. There was someone outside his car, and he was scared shitless.
Alone. I am all alone.
Did they know he was in here? Maybe if he didn’t move, stayed folded up like this, they would think his car was empty and move on. So he froze - like a deer caught in the headlights. Except, there wasn’t any light, and that was part of the problem.
He could feel a tear making its slow, silent journey down his face, adding its trail of salt to his tearstained cheeks, but he didn’t dare move his hand to wipe it off. And anyways, his overwhelming fear had stopped any other tears from making an appearance. Priorities.
God, if only Jamie were here. Louis started thinking. Then he remembered, and almost started crying again, but… priorities, yes, priorities. Life before love, for one couldn’t love from the grave.
Then the knock came again, and Louis flinched, fingers digging into calves. The knock was like something out of a horror film. Like the monster’s arm lifting off the operating table in Frankenstein. An anomaly, a horrific anomaly and nowhere to hide.
Louis’ breaths were coming in shallow bursts now, and then he had a thought - ridiculous because he hadn’t thought of it before. Why didn’t he just turn the car on and drive away? He almost laughed aloud. If Jamie were here he would be calling Louis an idiot right about now. Louis could have cried from relief, but there wasn’t any time for that.
Without lifting his head up, Louis reached a shaking hand to his key.
“Hello?” Louis’ hand stopped moving halfway to its destination. The muffled voice was accompanied by another knock on the door.
The fuck? The knock finally speaks? Louis’ hand continued its journey to his key, resting there and applying a bit of pressure.
Now. Now was the time to get out of here. Get away from the knock and disembodied voice. Get away from this altogether shitty night.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Hello? Is someone in there?” Louis could hear through his window that the voice was distinctly male, young too.
There was a moment, a wonderful moment, where Louis thought it was Jamie, that Jamie had come back to fix everything like he always did. But no, that voice had been too deep. Not Jamie, and Louis hated that it hurt.
Well whoever it was outside his car, they were creepy. Louis turned the key, and his engine roared to life.
Really, this night could not get any worse.
Louis put the car in reverse, without turning his headlights on, and started backing up. Whoever that was outside his car would just have to get the fuck out of his way. He was getting out of here. Liam would be waiting at home with a nice warm mug of tea. He always was.
“No! Please don’t go!” the voice pleaded.
Louis knew this carport, knew how far he needed to back up before he could go forward around the next corner. He backed up the appropriate amount, and then flicked his headlights on. Time to see what this bastard looked like.
Louis stopped, put his foot down on the brake. Caught in the colorless blast of illumination from his headlights was a tall, gangly figure. The figure had a mop of curly hair, a mouth that was just a bit too big for his face, eyes that reflected the light in a weird sort of dance, and he was easily the most gorgeous human being Louis had ever seen.
Also, he was crying.
Seriously, could this night get any worse? What was even happening right now?
The figure’s mouth moved, and he lifted up a shaking arm, but Louis was too far away now to hear what was being said.
He really should go. Logic would say to leave right now, get away from the craziness that was this carport and his life right now. He should put the car in drive, go home, curl up and binge-watch another series on Netflix. Yes, that was the logical thing to do.
Louis though was not a creature of logic. He put the car in park, and rolled down the window. He was going to regret this. He already knew it.
“What did you say?” Louis called out into the dark, out to the figure illuminated by his headlights.
“I said, please don’t go.” The voice trembled. A flash of lightning split the sky and silhouetted the figure’s tall form against the dark, dark night. Without thinking, Louis started counting the seconds.
The figure, a boy really, took a hesitant step forward, but Louis held up his hand, palm out - the universal sign for stop. The boy stopped.
Thunder boomed. Four seconds. The storm would be here any minute now.
Louis was crazy, but he wasn’t insane. He had no idea who this person was, had no idea what his intentions were. For all he knew, the boy was a serial killer who drew in his victims using crocodile tears. That look of anguish though looked too human, too full of pain, to be anything but real.
Louis couldn’t leave the boy here, but he couldn’t just let him get in the car. And the rain was coming.
Why was this happening to him?
The boy was just standing there, where Louis’ outstretched palm had stopped him, waiting, watching, eyes full of tears.
There have been entirely too many tears tonight.
“I’m not going to leave you.” Louis said, and it wasn’t until the words were out of his mouth that he realized they were true.
The boy slumped in visible relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“What’s your name?” Louis called out. He had no idea what to do right now, but names were always a good place to start.
The boy said something, but his voice was lost in a particularly loud rumble of thunder. It looked something like, “Larry?” Louis asked once the noise had subsided.
The boy grinned. “Not quite. It’s Harry.”
“Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Louis” The words were automatic, a response drilled into Louis by years of interacting in polite society.
“Pleasure to meet you Louis.” Harry said. The formality slightly ridiculous in their situation, but the rhythm familiar, like a canoe gently rocked on a wide, blue lake. Harry had a deep voice, attractively so, even if it was trembling a bit with the tears that were still sliding down his face.
Louis let out a quiet chuckle, and Harry laughed a bit too.
“Well, you’ll understand Harry that I can’t just let you into my car.” Louis said, continuing in their game of pretense.
Harry nodded, playing along. “Yes, I understand Louis. That would be a very irresponsible thing to do.” He grinned at Louis, and Louis returned the expression.
There was a pause, accompanied by more thunder, Harry standing by the edge of the carport, and Louis sitting in his car about 15 metres away. The distance suddenly seemed too far. Louis put his car into drive and pulled closer, stopping so that Harry was just two paces outside his window.
Louis leaned out the window. “Well, since we’ve established that I can’t let you in my car, do you want to borrow my cell? Phone a friend?” Even as he spoke the words, he was already reaching into his back pocket to slide his iPhone out.
“That would be lovely.” Harry smiled and stepped up to the window.
Louis stuck his hand out, iPhone balanced on his upturned palm. Harry’s fingers as they brushed his hand were warm and dry, and now that the boy had moved closer, Louis could get a better look at his face. His earlier thought had been correct; Harry was certainly the most beautiful human being he had ever seen. Even more so when he was smiling. He looked to be a few years younger than Louis, somewhere in his very early twenties.
Harry’s face still glistened with tear tracks, and Louis reached a hand up to his own cheeks, conscious of his own blotchy and puffy appearance from his tears not five minutes ago.
What a pretty picture we make.
“The passcode’s 1-2-3-4.” Louis called out, noticing that Harry had turned on his phone, fingers hovering above the screen.
“Creative.”
“I try.”
Louis started rolling up his window, intending to give Harry a bit of privacy for his phone call, but Harry held up a hand to stop him.
“You can listen in. I don’t care, might help convince you I’m not a serial killer or something.”
So Louis reversed the direction of the button and rolled the window back down. He watched as Harry dialed the phone number, face illuminated from below, lip caught in his bottom teeth in concentration.
“Been awhile since I didn’t just press a button to dial his number.” Harry said in explanation, sensing Louis’ eyes watching him. A moment or two later, and he pressed the call button with a flourish, looking up to grin at Louis.
Louis found himself returning the smile, and leaned back in his seat, relaxing into the faux-leather.
Harry looked concerned as he listened to the dial tone, brows furrowed and lips turned down, but his expression instantly cleared when a voice picked up on the other side.
“Niall! It’s Harry.” There was a pause, and Louis assumed that this “Niall” on the other side of the line was speaking. Louis opened his mouth to speak a few times, but was interrupted. “Yeah-, good-, Yes, but-”
Finally, Harry blew out an exasperated sigh and just talked over the voice on the other end. “Niall! Hold on a sec!” Harry shouted the words into the receiver, and then quieter. “Niall, I need you.”
That seemed to shut the other voice up. “I’m fine… Yeah, I promise… It’s Hayden, h-he cheated on me.” Fresh tears started welling up in Harry’s eyes, and he ran a frustrated hand across them.
Someone cheated on this beautiful boy? Louis’ fists balled up, fingers digging into his palms. He felt irrationally protective of the strange boy he had met just ten minutes prior, and had to consciously remind himself that it was really none of his business.
“No! I don’t need you to take care of all my problems for me! I can deal with it myself!” Harry was shouting again. “Just-just can you come pick me up?”
Louis leaned forward out of his seat. He really hoped Niall would be able to come pick Harry up. If not, he had no idea what he would do with the emotional wreck of a boy standing outside his car. He was barely able to handle his own emotions. And anyways, he still hadn’t ascertained that Harry wasn’t a serial killer.
Although the chances of that being true were getting progressively smaller every second.
“I’m at the carport near Hayden’ house… Thirty minutes? Where are you?” Harry asked, a bit of shock coloring his tone. Louis listened as Harry established Niall’s location at some party on the other side of the city.
“Yes, Niall, I’m ok… No, you don’t need to beat him up…. This phone? Oh that’s a long story… Yes, someone’s here with me.” Harry looked up at Louis and gave him a faint grin. “No… I think he’s harmless though… I’ll be safe, bye.”
Harry hung up the phone and handed it back to Louis.
“Thank you.” Harry said and took a step back. “So, I guess you know my story now.” He laughed, but there was no real humor in it. “Just the stereotypical story of a cheating boyfriend.”
Harry’s tears had completely stopped now, and the hiccupy sobs were gone, but he just looked so small standing outside Louis’ car, shoulders hunched up and eyes red-rimmed. Louis wanted to give him a hug. Hugs always made things better. Plus, Louis wasn’t having the best night either, and a hug would help him as well.
“I totally understand Harry.” Louis said softly. “I completely fucking understand.”
Louis rolled up his window, turned his car off, and opened his door. Harry watched the entire process with wide eyes.
“I’m going to give you a hug now, ok?”
Harry just nodded, and Louis closed the gap between them.
God, I am really fucking crazy, Louis thought as he embraced this stranger on the top of the carport in the middle of the night.
Harry was warm and solid underneath Louis’ arms, and Louis allowed himself a small smile as he felt Harry’s arms come up to tighten around his back, fingers curling into his jumper. Harry was tall, surprisingly tall; the perfect height for Louis’ head to rest against his chest and listen to the thu-thump of his heart.
Harry smelled of stale cigarette smoke, a bit of sweat, and oddly enough, cinnamon. For some reason, it was a comforting smell, and Louis found himself relaxing into it, allowing a bit of his weight to be supported by the strong arms around his back.
Yes, he had needed this hug just as much as Harry had.
That’s when the sky split open, and the rain started pouring down.