Work Text:
1 February 2000
On Harry's sixth birthday, he wakes up on top of the world. He's left the days of being five behind him. Nobody cool is five; six, though, six he can get behind. He's almost nine like his sister, and his sister is very cool, as far as he's concerned.
His mum tries to help him put on his school uniform, but he bats her hands away until she stands back and lets him try by himself. After all, he is six now, and six-year-olds can put on their own clothes.
Well, maybe some of them. Eventually, with one leg in the wrong part of his pants and his shirt caught on his head, he accepts defeat and lets his mum help. She always does it better than him anyway.
With pants and trousers on, shirt buttoned, a jumper thrown over, and his shoes tied (with help from his sister, Gemma, this time, who learned to tie her shoes last year and is always eager to practice) Harry is shrugged into his coat (after all, it is February). He and Gemma climb into the car, and his mum places something special on his lap: a platter of sugar cookies to bring to Harry's class.
They arrive at school, and Harry's mum parks instead of dropping them off like usual. Gemma walks away from the two of them to find her friends as soon as she can — apparently it's not cool for nine-year-olds to be seen with their mums. Harry's glad it's not like that for six-year-olds. He's not sure what he'd do without his mum.
They enter Harry's classroom just before the bell rings, and most children are already at their desks. Harry feels like there's a spotlight on him as he stands at the front of his room with his mum and she talks to his teacher, Mrs. Smith, but he's too busy buzzing with excitement to care.
"Class," Mrs. Smith begins, to which the class replies, "Yes, ma'am." Mrs. Smith continues, "Harry here has brought us some cookies for his birthday."
The room breaks out in excited whispers at the prospect of sweets. Harry beams. He catches the eye of his classmate Louis, whose smile seems to light up the whole room. Harry isn't really sure why. Maybe he's magical. Next to him is Harry's best friend Niall, who he met on the first day of Year 1, and has been inseparable from ever since. He's also grinning widely at the idea of having cookies.
"Harry," Harry's mum says, grabbing his attention — and also his arm. "Would you like to help pass them out?"
"Can you count to make sure there's enough?" Harry asks.
"We counted at home, remember?" his mum says. "We have enough."
"Count one more time," Harry insists. "Please?" He breaks out the puppy eyes, a trick Gemma taught him early (to both his parents' chagrin). His mum sighs but sets down the platter on Mrs. Smith's desk, smiling apologetically at her as she begins to count. When she makes sure there's the perfect amount, she turns back to Harry, who's been watching her with rapt attention the whole time.
"Ready to pass them out, Harry?"
Harry nods eagerly. "Yes."
He takes the entire platter in his hands, shaking off his mum when she tries to assist him. He's got this, thanks. The back row all pick a cookie, and then he takes them forward to the second row. There are three rows in the class, and Harry's seat is in the front. Harry starts on the left side of the front row, with a girl named Jesy, and then he skips his seat between her and Niall. Niall asks if he can take two, to which Harry replies a very firm "No!" There are exactly enough.
Louis is next, and he offers Harry a mischievous grin before grabbing two cookies, lightning fast. Harry's eyes widen and he almost drops the platter.
"Louis!" he protests. "That's mean, put it back!"
Louis just shakes his head. There's only one cookie left on the platter.
"That was mine," a boy named Liam says from Louis' other side, looking sad, his floppy hair hanging in his eyes. Harry feels bad for him.
"Here, have this one," Harry says, handing Liam the last cookie. Liam looks up at him with eyes like saucers.
"Are you sure? It's your birthday, Harry."
Harry nods determinedly. "'M sure."
"I can share mine, Hazza," Niall offers, but Harry just shakes his head.
"'S okay. I've got more at home."
So Harry goes cookie-less on his birthday. He hands the platter to his mum, who'd been conversing with his teacher, and doesn't mention the incident. Usually he'd be the type to tell an adult if someone did something bad, but it honestly didn't seem that big of a deal to him. Maybe Louis really needed that extra cookie.
1 February 2001
On Harry's seventh birthday, his mum helps him bring cookies for the class again. Niall, Louis, and Liam are all in his class like last year, and they have pretty much the same seating arrangements.
When Harry comes around with the platter, Louis takes Liam's cookie again. Harry gives Liam his cookie. He has deja-vu, which is something Gemma had told him about. Harry misses Louis' slightly guilty look as he hands his mum the platter.
1 February 2002
On Harry's eighth birthday, he makes the same mistake again. He forgets to make one extra cookie — honestly, it's just weird to mess up the perfect grid on the baking sheet — and Louis steals Liam's. Harry hands his to Liam's almost on autopilot. Liam refuses it.
"It's your birthday, Harry, you should have the cookie."
"Really, Liam, it's okay. Take the cookie."
"No, Harry—"
"Take the cookie!" Harry says a bit too loudly.
"Is everything okay, Harry?" Mr. Winston, his teacher, asks. He's too old for his mum to bring the cookies in with him anymore.
"Yes, sir," Harry answers.
"Harry's trying to give me his cookie," Liam speaks up, the tattle-tale. Harry shoots him a look. He just shrugs.
"Did you already get one?" Mr. Winston seems confused about the situation. Louis has hidden one of his cookies in his lap. Harry shoots him a look too. He looks guilty. As he should.
"No," Liam says. "Louis—"
"Accidentally knocked one on the ground," Harry cuts him off. "It's behind his chair. I'll get it after I give Liam his cookie."
Liam eyes him with an indecipherable look, but mercifully doesn't argue. Mr. Winston, satisfied with the situation, walks back to his desk. Harry places Liam's cookie in front of him and takes his seat, still cookie-less.
Later, Harry is taking his lunch out of his locker, and suddenly there's a cookie shoved under his nose.
"What—"
"I'm sorry about earlier," Louis says, pushing the cookie further into Harry's space until he finally reaches up to grab it. "Here. Since you didn't get one."
Harry wants to ask another question (he's not sure what — he just wants Louis to keep talking to him) but Louis runs off with Liam, probably to play footie. They always do that during lunch. Sometimes Niall joins them, and Harry watches from under a nearby tree, safely reading a book. Harry watches him go, glancing down at the cookie. They're chocolate chip this year, and some of the chocolate has melted and is sticking to his fingers. He licks it off as he walks, wondering.
1 February 2003
On Harry's ninth birthday, he's baked the cookies all by himself. They're a little lopsided, and some of them have a good deal more chocolate chips than others, but they're his and he's very proud of them. He even baked one extra, just for Louis.
As he's passing out the cookies, he overhears a conversation between Liam and Louis.
"She likes you, mate," Liam is saying. "Like, proper fancies you. I hear she's going to write you a Valentine."
"Valentine's Day is stupid," Louis answers. "Do you think she does, though?"
He sounds excited. Harry's gut twists. He's not sure why. Shouldn't he be happy for Louis? Is he jealous? Does he wish a girl fancied him too? He shudders at the thought of any of his classmates liking him like that. Like...boyfriend-girlfriend. That's weird. That's for grown-ups and those strange movies Gemma watches, the ones with beaches and American accents and half-dressed teenagers.
When he gets to his row, Louis surprises him by dutifully taking the one cookie he's supposed to. Liam takes his, leaving Harry with two cookies left on his platter.
"Um, Louis," he says quietly, not wanting to interrupt them, but still wanting Louis' attention. It's on him immediately, blue eyes meeting his with curiosity. Harry sets the platter down on Louis' desk. "I made an extra. For you." He takes one of the remaining cookies and presents it to Louis on his palms. Louis stares at it.
"You made me another one?"
"Uh...yeah." Harry feels kind of stupid. Can't Louis just take the cookie?
"But, Harry...that was just a joke, you know? From when we were little. I didn't actually want two."
Harry's very confused. "Why did you take two, then? If you didn't want them?"
Louis doesn't seem like he has an answer for that. He takes the cookie, though. Harry counts it as a win, and tries not to think too much about Louis or the girl who fancies him.
1 February 2004
On Harry's tenth birthday, he gives Louis the two cookies he baked for him. Niall complains that he doesn't have two, which prompts Harry to hit him over the head with his book. He gets a day of lunch detention for it. Niall, Liam, and Louis spend it with him. Louis gives Niall half of his extra cookie.
1 February 2005
On Harry's eleventh birthday, he brings specially iced sugar cookies in different shapes. He makes three hearts. Nobody touches them except Louis, who takes two, and leaves Harry with one. It couldn't have gone better.
They'd been reading a book in class about different types of love, and apparently, boyfriend-girlfriend is not the only option. Who knew? Harry learns that some men love each other, and some women love each other. Some even live together, although same-sex marriage isn't legal yet. Their teacher, Mrs. Delavigne, tells them about her partner Lia and how they've been together nearly ten years. Harry imagines spending that long with someone. That's almost as long as he's been alive!
The only person he can think of spending all that time with and not getting bored or annoyed is Louis. Sure, sometimes Louis is loud, and he's been called a "troublemaker" more times than Harry can count, but he's always interesting and Harry never gets tired of just sitting and admiring what he's like. It might be a crush. Harry doesn't think too hard about it.
1 February 2006
On Harry's twelfth birthday, Louis gets a girlfriend. Worse, he uses the extra cookie Harry baked him — another heart — to win her over. By the end of the day, they're holding hands in the courtyard, and it's all the entirety of Year 7 can talk about.
Harry's sure she's nice. Louis wouldn't want to be with someone who wasn't nice. He just wonders why Louis doesn't want to be with him. (By this point he's accepted his crush, though that hasn't made it any easier.)
1 February 2007
On Harry's thirteenth birthday, his mum had asked him the night before if he still wanted to bake cookies for his class. He said yes, of course, It's tradition, Mum, obviously, and he walked into school the next day with a fresh batch of snickerdoodles. Over the past couple of years, their seating arrangement has changed slightly; Niall now sits most to the left, with Harry between him and Louis, and Liam on Louis' other side. When Harry walks into class that day, though, he sees his seat is taken.
There's a boy in it, with dark hair and olive skin, chatting with Louis and laughing at something he's saying. Harry stops dead in his tracks. It was bad enough when Louis had a girlfriend (which didn't last very long; apparently a week is normal for those kinds of relationships), but now Harry's jealous of this new guy who he doesn't even know the name of.
"Hi," Harry says carefully as he approaches. Louis looks up and smiles at him, and Harry has to take a second for his brain to work again. "Um, I'm Harry. That's my seat," he tells the unknown boy.
"Oh! Hi, I'm Zayn," the boy says, reaching out to shake Harry's hand before he realizes Harry's holding a platter and can't shake hands. "Do you mind if I steal your seat for today? I don't really know anyone besides Louis."
"I met him in the parking lot," Louis boasts. "He's from Bradford. You know what they called him there?" He leans in as if sharing a secret. "The Bradford Bad Boy. Isn't that grand?"
Harry swallows the many, many responses — not one of them friendly — to that and forces a smile, walking over to take the empty seat on Niall's left.
"What makes him so grand?" Harry mutters. Niall hears him and offers him a sympathetic smile.
"It's not often we get new people. We've all been in the same class since Year 1. I'm sure we'll all be just as good friends with Zayn as we are with each other."
Harry hopes not.
(He gives Louis two cookies as usual and he easily hands one to Zayn. Harry's blood boils, but he keeps it to himself.)
1 February 2008
On Harry's fourteenth birthday, he has his first kiss. There's only one other out gay boy in Year 9, someone named Nick, and at Harry's surprise birthday party his friends (Liam, Niall, Louis, and Zayn, who he has warmed up to a great deal) throw for him with everyone in their year, he's dared to kiss him.
It's not horrible, as first kisses go. He doesn't feel anything, and he suspects Nick doesn't either, but they both sort of play it up for their audience. Even so, it's nothing but a quick press of lips, and Harry doesn't really get what all the hype around kissing is.
Louis doesn't seem to get it either. They find themselves alone on Harry's porch after many of the kids have gone home (although Harry's closest friends were allowed to sleep over, and Liam, Niall, and Zayn are currently asleep in their sleeping bags in Harry's living room).
"I don't understand," Louis is saying. "It doesn't seem that great. I mean, you remember Eleanor?"
Does Harry remember Eleanor? No, he actually forgot about the girl who made him realize he had a genuine, adult, big-time crush on Louis, which he still hasn't gotten over. Ha, right. "Yeah," he says instead.
"She kissed me in Year 7, when we...dated, I guess. It was weird. They make it seem so great in movies and books and everything, but it's really just a bit weird, innit?"
Harry nods along like he always does when Louis talks. He can't imagine disagreeing with anything he says, especially if he's saying he didn't feel anything when a girl kissed him.
"Did you feel something with Nick?" Louis asks. He says the name like it's a bad word. Louis never really liked Nick, particularly not how he always tries to be friends with Harry. Harry tries not to read too much into it.
Harry considers the question. He's not sure if he's supposed to lie. But Louis didn't, so... "No," Harry says, and Louis looks strangely relieved. "It felt weird, like you said."
Louis blows out a breath. "Yeah. Maybe we're just bad at it?"
They giggle together, the sounds of their laughter and hushed whispers carrying through the night as they sneak back inside and fall asleep with their sleeping bags pressed as close together as physically possible. Harry's arm accidentally brushes Louis' cold hand at some point, and Louis reaches to lace his fingers with Harry's.
1 February 2009
On Harry's fifteenth birthday, Louis has helped him bake the cookies. That's why they're a bit lopsided and not properly iced, but Harry managed to forgive the cookies' slightly rough appearance. They pass them out together, Louis eager to let everyone know that he had a part in making them, and he picks specifically shaped cookies for different people. He has funny things to say about some of them, too, like when he hands Nick an easter egg cookie and tells him that's what he looks like when he gels his hair up like he's started doing.
So maybe it's just a little mean, but it makes Harry laugh, and Louis loves making him laugh.
After school, Harry and Louis walk home together. Their houses are just down the street from each other, and they've gotten closer in the year since the surprise party, so most days they spend their afternoons at one or the other of their homes. Today they go to Louis'.
Gemma is in her first year of uni, so often they'll go to Harry's house to escape the noise of siblings, but sometimes Harry misses it, and he loves Louis' sisters and his mum. They absolutely adore him back.
"Harry, dear!" Louis' mum says merrily when she opens the front door to let the two of them in, immediately wrapping her arms around the boy she calls her "honorary son." Louis taps her shoulder.
"No hug for me, Mum?" he laughs, not offended at all. He loves that his mum loves Harry so much.
He shrugs off his book bag as his mum collects him in her arms, squeezing him tightly.
"How was your day, darlings? Would you like some tea?"
"Good, yes," Louis answers for both of them. "Please. We'll be in my room."
His mum smiles at him and Harry. "Fiz and the twins are out with Mark," she informs him, referring to his stepdad. "Lottie has an assignment to complete and she's grounded until she finishes, so don't bother her."
Louis rolls his eyes. "We won't." He thinks it's far more likely that Lottie will bother them.
They make it up to Louis' room, and assume their usual positions: Louis sprawled on his stomach on top of his comforter, and Harry sitting cross-legged up against the side of his bed. They've both pulled out their notebooks and homework assignments, but Louis can't focus.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"How did you, um..." he pauses, considering chickening out, but blurts it anyway. "How did you know you were gay?"
Harry looks up at him, startled. He blinks a couple of times. "I guess...it was a lot of things, really. When everyone was talking about girlfriends and stuff I couldn't imagine myself with any girls I knew. Not even celebrities."
"But it was different with boys?"
Harry shrugs. "Some of them."
Louis processes this. "I just, um...I feel like there's a reason I didn't feel anything with Eleanor. Everyone says I was supposed to."
"Maybe you just didn't like her like that," Harry reasons. Louis shakes his head.
"I just have this weird feeling that's not it."
"Do you...do you think you might be gay?"
Louis groans. "I don't know! How do you tell?"
"I mean...you've tried one side, right? Might as well try the other, see if it's different?"
Louis swallows thickly, sitting up. "You mean...kiss a boy?"
Harry stares hard at the worksheets in his lap. "Yeah."
Louis slides down next to him on the floor, their shoulders brushing as he looks over at Harry, who won't look at him. Louis reaches to tilt Harry's chin in his direction and meets his eyes. "Harry?" he says in a whisper.
"Yeah?" Harry responds, sounding breathless.
"Can I kiss you?"
Harry doesn't even hesitate before nodding, and Louis leans forward to press his lips against Harry's. It's fast, over before he can even get used to the feeling, but he likes it. He likes it a lot.
Harry pulls back. "Did you—"
"Yes," Louis responds quickly, and he isn't sure who leans in that time, but their lips meet again, and Louis feels like his heart is beating out of his chest. He sure as hell didn't feel this with Eleanor. Before he knows it he's got a hand in Harry's curls and Harry's hand has settled on his thigh and—
"Hey, Louis, do you—oh. Oh, shit—"
Louis pulls away like he's been burned, chest heaving as he meets the wide eyes of his sister. "Don't curse," he says automatically. Lottie rolls her eyes.
"You're one to talk. What's happening?"
"Nothing," Louis tells her, scrambling to his feet to close the door. "Why are you in my room?"
"I had a question for you, but I guess you're busy." Her grin is almost feral. Louis grits his teeth. His mum chooses that moment to come around the corner with two steaming mugs of tea.
"Mum, did you know Louis had a boyfriend?" Lottie asks almost accusingly. Louis nearly swallows his own tongue. What the fuck?
"I don't," Louis defends immediately when his mum turns to him with a surprised look. "I don't have a boyfriend, Lottie, shut up."
"Don't talk to your sister like that," his mum says. "Here's the tea for you and Harry. Louis, do we need to talk...?"
Louis takes the tea from her and mutters, "Later."
"Charlotte," his mum says, addressing his sister. "I believe I told you that you weren't allowed to leave your room until you completed your assignment. Is it done?"
"I had to go to the bathroom," Lottie says. "And I wanted to ask Louis a question, but—" she cuts herself off, glancing at Harry behind him. Louis doesn't dare turn around to see the look on his face. "Anyway. I'll just go."
"I'll be in the kitchen, darlings," his mum tells them and kisses Louis', then Lottie's cheek. She sends Louis a look as she leaves. This isn't over.
Louis shuts the door behind him with his foot and focuses on very carefully balancing the tea, handing Harry his mug without looking him in the eyes. Louis sits back down next to him, but with a safe few inches of space in between.
"I'm sorry," Harry says. "I got a little carried away. I know you just wanted to figure some things out—"
"I did," Louis interrupts. "I really like kissing you." He realizes only afterward how weird that might sound, but if anything, Harry's more embarrassed than he is, a blush creeping onto his face.
"I really like kissing you too," Harry says softly, and takes a sip of his tea, hiding his face behind his mug.
"Is this, um..." Louis tries to compile this racing thoughts into a somewhat normal sentence. "Are we like, dating?"
Harry meets his eyes with an amused smile, shyness melting away from his features. "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson?"
Louis splutters. "I—maybe? Yes? I think—"
Harry captures his lips in a sweet kiss, cutting him off. "I would love to be your boyfriend."
1 February 2010
On Harry's sixteenth birthday, he and Louis are making out in a janitor's closet during lunch. Louis' hands are buried in his hair, his body pressing Harry's against the shelves of cleaning product. It would be painful, but he's a little too focused on the movement of Louis' lips against his neck.
"You're incredible, did you know?" Louis says, pressing light kisses to Harry's cheeks and forehead. Harry giggles under his lips.
"Louis, I have a question."
"Yeah?"
Harry clears his throat, gaining Louis' full attention. "Why'd you take extra cookies? When we were little?"
Louis looks surprised, but then he laughs. "I was obsessed with you, Harry, oh my god. Was it really not obvious?"
"I thought you didn't figure out you were gay until last year."
"Well...I didn't," he allows. "But that doesn't mean I wasn't. I've been obsessed with you since we met. I didn't know what to do about it so I just always tried to get your attention in some way. Making you laugh, stealing Liam's cookie..."
Harry grins against Louis' mouth when he leans in to kiss him again. "I love you so much." Harry's heart stops when he realizes what he's just said. "I mean—um—sorry—"
"I love you too, Hazza," Louis responds, his lips sliding gently against his boyfriend's. "So fucking much."