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Harry entered the art studio, just like every other Monday. On Mondays, he had a three hour studio class, and, to be quite honest, he just could not stand the professor who taught it. She thought that she knew everything there was to know about art, when, in reality, art is completely subjective. Even though everyone in the class seemed to love Harry’s work, she never liked it, and as a result, he was basically failing the class. He was practically failing art class. Art.
Three hours is an awful long time when you’re sitting on an uncomfortable stool at a table of people who you don’t like and who you don’t want to talk to. He tried to listen to music once, but was quickly met with the hand of the professor to his arm, scolding him. For Christ’s sake, he was an adult and in college. He could basically do whatever he wanted, you know, except for listen to music in an art class because it would “distract him”.
He went to the back where all of the works in progress were kept and picked out his canvas. At this point, it was nothing more than a quick pencil sketch of a London skyline. He always added in all of the details during the painting process. He was a lot more creative with a paintbrush in his hand than a pencil.
Nervosity was taking over as his teacher glared his way. Could she not act like he was a total failure for once? He placed all of his paint and brushes around the table, anxious that he had forgotten something which he luckily didn’t. All he needed now were some old rags, water and the strength to keep believing in his own talent.
He went over to one of the cupboards filled with cups and let out a loud gasp as he opened it, closing the cupboard hard before feeling curious eyes burn on his back. Was it-? It couldn’t be. When he felt like everyone was back to minding their business, he opened the cupboard and realized there really was a boy curled up in it. He must’ve been as shocked by his exposure as Harry because he was smiling weakly.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry whispered, filling his cup with water in the meanwhile. “Are you even in this class?”
“I’m Louis,” he whispered back. “And I’m playing hide and seek with my friends.”
“Why are you even in here?!” Harry said, hushed, and quick. “You know you can’t do that!”
“I can do whatever I want, Mister Stranger.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he just slammed the cupboard closed and made his way back to his table. All he heard in the background was a muffled chuckle, followed by a soft tapping, clearly meant just to annoy Harry. Nobody else reacted to it, probably because they didn’t know that there was anything to be making that noise, but Harry knew.
He started stroking the brush on his canvas, humming to himself in his head. The professor was at her desk, not paying attention for whatever reason, and some students were leaving early since they were either finished with their piece or because they just didn’t want to sit there for the rest of the class. Harry didn’t blame them. He wished that he could leave. He would have left, but there was something about the man in the cupboard. He didn’t want him to suffocate in there; there could not be much air circulation inside of a cupboard.
Midway through the class, it was only Harry, the professor, and a few other students there. His table was now empty and he as able to spread out his workspace more, which was a lot more comfortable than trying to work with people surrounding him.
Harry was trying his best to stay focused, wanting his painting to look perfect. He started mixing up colors, carefully stroking small lines before getting distracting by a “pshhh” and tapping coming from the cupboard again. The longer Harry tried to ignore it, the harsher the noises seemed to get and he thought that getting some clear water made a perfect excuse to check if the boy wasn’t suffocating after all.
He made his way back, opening the cupboard slightly and finding Louis looking victorious at him.
“What is it?” Harry hissed between clenched teeth, pouring out the cup’s contents.
“I’m bored,” Louis said, rubbing his eyes. “And it’s dark in here. Plus, you’re funny.”
He rolled his eyes. “You did this to yourself. Maybe you should just give up.”
“I’m not losing this game, plus, you’re the one who seems to be talking to himself.”
Harry turned around with such a shock, finding out no one was paying attention and Louis was biting his sweater to hold back his chuckles.
“You’re a prick,” he whispered lowly. “I hope you get caught.”
“Come on, Curly, don’t be harsh to me. At least hand me some water..”
Harry didn’t know why, but he carefully put a cup of water in the cupboard before slamming it shut and returning to his desk.
I mean, what the fuck do you do when there is someone hiding in a cupboard? You can’t exactly tell the professor, can you?
He didn’t.
However, the professor did decide that after Harry was the only one left to leave the room and tell Harry to close up the studio whenever he was done. Sure, the professor didn’t peculiarly like him, but she did trust him.
After she exited the room, Harry closed the door behind her and opened up the cupboard that Louis was curled into. Rather than being greeted with bright eyes and cheeky smiles, he was greeted with a snoring man with a messy fringe.
As if having a guy in the cupboard wasn’t weird enough, Harry now had to deal with a sleeping man in a cupboard.
He stretched his hand out and pulled it back again a few times, being too scared that he’ll frighten the boy so much he’d fall right out.
“Louis?” Harry said softly, his hand now reaching the boys fringe and brushing it from his eyes. “Louis, wake up.”
Louis just let out a high pitched groan and nuzzled against Harry’s hand in approval.
Well, the soft way didn’t seem to work for the both of them.
“Louis,” He said louder, still with no response. “LOUIS!”
The boy made a lot of noise darting up straight and hitting his head against the wood. Harry was laughing so hard at this point he had to clutch his sides.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Louis said angrily, hands pressed to his throbbing head. “You asshole!”
Harry tried to catch his breath. “I am so sorry! I tried to do it softly but you wouldn’t budge.”
Louis just growled under his breath, which made Harry laugh even louder. Louis glared at him, doing his best at keeping a straight face.
“Class is gone, you can come out now, loser,” Harry said. He stuck his tongue out playfully.
“I'm not the loser, here. In fact, at this pace, I'm probably the winner. Nobody came?”
Harry shook his head and offered Louis his hands so he could pull himself out easier. Louis hesitantly took Harry’s hands and accepted Harry’s help to get out of the cupboard. And, this time, he didn't bang his head.
When Louis stood up, Harry was able to appreciate exactly how petite Louis was. He only rose to about Harry’s shoulders. Given, that wasn't exactly short since Harry was considered tall. However, Louis was shorter than he and had a much smaller body frame.
“Wow, so that's how you fit in a cupboard, huh?” Harry asked.
“Are you fooking calling me short, lad?” Louis asked defensively. He wanted to break into a smirk, but he barely knew Harry, and he wanted to make sure that he established himself as the defensive guy.
Harry pretended to be taken aback, finding that Louis was extremely adorable standing there in his oversized hoodie and skin tight jeans.
No. He couldn’t think that way.
“No,” Harry started, trying to get his mind to disliking him again. “I was calling you smol.”
Louis narrowed his eyebrows, eyes staring into Harry’s. “Are you taking the piss out of me, really?”
“Man, I liked you better locked up in that cupboard,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Suddenly turning in the tough guy, aye?”
Louis balled his fists, moving closer up to Harry. “What do you want me to say? Thank you for letting me stay in the cupboard, I’m so glad you wanted to cooperate. Please do make a comment on my height as if you didn’t know I was-” He swallowed. “small when I was in there.”
Harry couldn’t fight back a smile, he hadn’t moved away from Louis at all. “I’m sorry that I offended you, I really didn’t mean to. I never said it was a negative thing to begin with.”
“Well thanks, Curly.” He flicked his fringe in place. “I guess I’m positively small then.”
Harry laughed softly. “Most definitely are, can easily pick you up and put you down if I’d want to.”
Something in the way Louis was looking had changed, making Harry nervously fidget with the loose threads on his shirt. How could he be so stupid to say such things? What if he thought he was hitting on him?
He totally was.
“But you wouldn’t dare to,” Louis challenged. He sort of wished he hadn’t, because before he could even finish the thought in his brain, large hands were pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around him, and his feet were off the ground.
“Get the fook off of me, Curly,” Louis snapped as he kicked his legs. Harry was smart and leaned back, so his goods would not be caught in the fire of Louis’ feet.
“You didn’t say the magic word!” Harry teased.
“Are you fucking joking, lad?” Louis said, trying to kick harder so he could somehow make contact with Harry so he had to be put down.
Harry laughed and dropped Louis -- well, dropped him harder than he meant to. He meant to put the boy down gently, but since he was kicking his legs and was fidgeting around, Louis ended up falling straight down to the ground.
“Me bum!” Louis said, rubbing his hip, pouting up at the curly-haired man. Harry couldn’t help but snicker.
“I liked you better in the cupboard, still,” Harry said, arms crossed. He was now consciously trying not to flirt with Louis.
“And I’m sure you liked being in the closet, but that didn’t work out too well for you, did it?”
Harry was in shock by this, he started to bite his bottom lip nervously trying to think of the right thing to say. He wanted to run out of the classroom and forget about Louis for the rest of his life.
“Lost your tongue?” Louis grinned, looking victorious.
“No,” Harry said, trying to remain confident. “I was just thinking that some people really have a nerve, assuming people are gay.”
“So being gay is a bad thing then?” Louis asked, moving closer to Harry again so that their chests were almost touching. “Or are you just too shy to come out?”
“I never said being gay was bad,” He said, his heart hammering against his chest by the small man being so close to him. “I just don’t understand why you assume I’m gay.”
Louis smiled, his fingers brushing over Harry’s arm. “I don’t assume, I know. By the way you look, walk, talk and get goosebumps all over that body of yours because I’m getting closer to you. You’ve been avoiding to look at me ever since I made that comment and if you do, they linger on my lips for just that second longer. You do realize that if I typed that in Google, they’d probably tell me that you’d want to kiss me.”
“Oh, so that’s what you look up in your free time, huh?” Harry tried, the thought of running away creeping back into his mind. He decided to step back from Louis, breaking the physical contact and somehow wishing he didn’t.
“See,” Louis started again, the victorious grin plastered on his beautiful face. “Now you’re walking away from me, I guess I’m making you uncomfortable? Would you want to kiss me, is that it?”
“What would suggest that?” Harry said, meekly. Louis took another step forward to him, and Harry, this time, did not jump back. Louis cautiously took another step, eyes meeting Harry’s.
“And, I bet now, you’re wondering what I’m doing,” Louis said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Harry quickly broke eye contact to watch him move his hands. “Or maybe not, considering you’re practically watching my every move, Curly.”
“You,” Harry started before he stopped himself. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to put himself out there. If he did, Louis would be able to find him easier. There weren’t many Harrys on campus.
“Hm?” Louis hummed. He picked one hand out of his pocket and tilted Harry’s chin up.
“You can call me Harry.”
Louis just looked at him.
“Nah, I like Curly better.”
“Then I’ll call you smol,” Harry replied back, not too harshly.
“You won’t be calling me that after tonight, stranger.”
Harry swallowed hard before crashing his lips against Louis’ violently, his fingers digging into his sides as he kept him in place. When he realized what he was doing, he broke the kiss and took a step back.
If Louis could grin even wider, he just did.
“Google never lies,” Louis said, staring into Harry’s eyes.
“What a stupid thing to say,” Harry said lowly. “Not everything on the Internet is true.”
Louis moved closer to him again. “Stop taking everything I say so seriously because all I was saying is that you’ve been wanting to kiss me ever since you opened that cupboard.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
Now, Louis was the one to push Harry against the wall, pressing his lips on his again as he wrapped his arms around him. The both of them were forcefully pressing their lips together, soft groans escaping the back of their throats.
They broke apart in shock, hearing soft knocks on the door.
Harry opened his eyes and glanced to the door. Pressed up against the window pane in the door, even making a nose print on the window was Harry’s roommate, Liam.
“Hey! Hey! Harry!” he heard Liam yell.
Fuck.
Louis quickly ducked underneath the art table that was behind them and Harry was thankful that he had locked the door earlier after the professor left.
“Leave!” Harry snapped at Louis.
Liam had no idea that Harry liked guys or even had kissed anybody before - which, maybe, he hadn’t, and maybe Louis was his first kiss.
Rather than taking the whole thing seriously, Louis crawled low enough so he wasn’t visible through the door window and went right back to the cupboard that he was originally in. He closed himself in there.
Honestly, if Harry hadn’t had a sense of humor, he probably would have kicked the door in. Instead, he found himself, hands on knees cracking up. By the time that Harry had even caught his breath, Liam was gone.
On his phone was a text message that simply stated “If you’re gonna shag that chick tonight, just tell me so I don’t walk in on you. Gross.”
“Louis, you can come out!” Harry called out. Louis emerged slowly from the cupboard.
“And now, you and I, are out of the closet, I guess -- or, cupboard rather.”
“Not necessarily.”
Louis shrugged.
“At least take me out first,” Louis said, partially sarcastic.
“You mean take you out other than take you out of the cupboard?”
That remark made Louis punch Harry. And that wasn’t the roughest thing that Louis had in mind for the night.