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Louis walked down the empty alley once again. A familiar path for him, it's a short cut to his large, lofty, empty studio flat. He owns the record shop down the street which is where he spends most of his time.
He finally reached his building to find, that yet again, he forgot to lock the front door. He walked into the building anyway after he stubbed his cigarette out. He stumbled about looking for the light switch because the asshole that lives on the first floor turns the light out at midnight every night. He climbed the stairs to the fifth floor , then walked down the dingy, dimly lit hallway that led to his apartment. "You think they'd fix the elevator for the amount of rent I pay," he thought to himself as he reached the second floor. As usual when he reaches the third floor, he was out of breath. "Maybe I should quit," he tells himself while reaching into the back pocket of his impossibly tight skinny jeans to find his pack of cigarettes.
"They say quitting's for losers anyway." A voice told his, before reaching out and lighting the cigarette that hung between his red lips.
"Who's there?" He carelessly called as if one of his handful of friends dropped by.
"It's me, Harry." He said as he walked out of the darkness throwing his cigarette on the ground to stomp it out.
"You think I'd be bothered that you got in but," he paused, "I'm not." Louis replied as he turned the deadbolt on the door.
"Will you turn some lights on in here, Lou?" Harry bugged him.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because it's really, really dark in here." He complaied.
"Fine." He grumbled as he flicked on the fairy lights that encased the entire room in a twinkling yellow hue. "Happy now?" He asked as he turned on his record player.
"Black Keys? Could you be more mainstream?" He sneered.
"Yeah, I could dress like you." He snapped back.
"Ooo! Good one! Attack the quiff!" He laughed as they headed for the kitchen.
"Want a cuppa?" He asked while rifling through his cabinets.
"Uhh sure." He replied as he reached into his pocket again grabbing his phone.
"You know, you really should not wear such tight pants you walk home by yourself at three in the morning down dark alleys." Harry told his in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Yeah, well wheres is the fun in that?" He joked as he put his cigarette out while scrolling through his messages.
"Want one?" He asked as he offered his a cigarette.
"Sure, I don't know how you used to smoke those god awful L&M's." Louis told him as he lit his cigarette.
"They were cheap. Now I can afford Marlboros." He said as he lit his cigarette.
"Well, cheap or not, they sucked. And You still smoke through three packs a day." He replied before taking another drag.
"Like you're any better." He replied.
"I'm not, but I only smoke through one and a half packs a day. Depending on the day, that is." He replied lamely.
"You're such a hypocrite." He told his as he poured two cups of tea
"Yeah, yeah I am." He said. "Thanks!" He added as he took his tea.
"To the couch?" He asked.
"Yeah. Sure." He replied.
Louis watched in amazement as Harry meandered around his dirty clothes and empty packs of cigarettes in an oddly elegant manner. His long, thin legs moved about the clutter as if he had it memorized by heart. He began to walk towards the couch in a less graceful manner. He stepped on his clothes and crunched his empty packs, still not bending to pick them up though.
"You're so beautiful." He said as Louis wiggled underneath his arm.
"W-what?" He spluttered.
"You're beautiful." He said again.
"No, no I'm not. But thanks, babe." He replied hiding His face behind His knees that were pulled to His chest.
"Baby?" He asked.
"Yeah. It's a common pet name." He muttered still hiding.
"I know you've just never called me that before." And oh was he right. He's never called Harry that before, and it didn't help because Harry knew he only called His boyfriends or his occasional girlfriend babe.
"Yeah. Well.. yeah." He lamely replied. They sat in an uncomfortable silence due to Harry's lack of knowing how to respond, but then after a few passing moments, Louis's saving grace came in the form of the record player.
"Will you change the record please?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh yeah. Sure." Harry said as he got off of the couch. "I'm picking!" He shouts as if he really had an opinion.
"I don't give a shit!" He shouted back before digging through his couch to find that whiskey he shoved in the couch before leaving today.
"Ellie Goulding?" He asked as the first notes of 'My Blood' rang out into the empty loft.
"Yeah, she's amazing." Harry told him as he plopped onto the couch again.
"I wasn't complaining. I just didn't know you listened to her." He replied dismissively.
"I have a question." He stated.
"Shoot."
"Where did you get this? Like it's fucking nonexistent, and then you just have 'Halcyon' in your record collection." He wondered.
"I own a record shop, Harry." He deadpaned.
"Oh... Yeah, I guess that makes sense. What are you looking for?"
"Uhh.. bottle of whiskey." He laughed.
"Oh this one?" He took the bottle off of the floor and dangled it in front of his face.
"Yes, The tea was great, by the way." Louis says as a distraction before he snatched the bottle from his grasp.
"Thanks, Doll. You better share." He said as he dusted off two shot glasses.
"Really?" He mockingly asked before he took a big swig from the bottle.
"Yeah, you're right. We'll just drink from the bottle." He said as he grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the huge windows.
"Why'd you bring me over here?" He asked becoming slightly annoyed by Ellie Goulding's sad music floating through the already sad space.
"The stars are so bright, with the sky being so clear tonight." Harry told him as he swiped the bottle from his hands
"I'm tired of this shit. I'm changing the record. We shall listen to Fall Out Boy!" He shouted as he stumbled towards the source of music. He wasn't tried of this record but Louis was afraid of things getting serious or intimate. He shudders just thinking about it, he finally spies his old fall out boy album on far shelf. Hey! if you’re going to play sad music it might as well be angry too... "Ahh, much better." He said as he fits himself back into the crook of Harry's arm.
"If you say so." He replied. They laid there on the floor listening to endless records, sharing cigarettes, whispers of unknown secrets, and drinks of whiskey until dawn. Only then can Louis finally find peace.