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“Oh my god. Oh my god. When did that happen? I didn’t know he had tattoos. Did you know he had tattoos? When the fuck did he get tattoos?!” Perrie whispers-shouts next to Louis. She’s gesturing wildly while clutching onto a champagne glass filled with some bright blue liquid, and it’s not that Louis cares that much about the mess, but he knows he should stop her. Part of the deal for Louis having a pool party was that he wouldn’t make a big mess (and if he did, he was the one cleaning it up). So instead, he gently gabs Perrie’s wrist and repeats her name quietly until she let’s out a little whine and looks over at him, her bottom lip puffing out.
“How is that the same person, Louis? How is that Harry Styles?”
☂
It was originally a joke to invite Harry to the party. Louis was planning it out with Zayn during lunch when Harry walked by. Zayn had wiggled his eyebrows and said, “Oh my god, Lou, what if you invited him?”
And Louis tried to stammer out some weak excuse but the entire table had erupted into cheers and encouragements and Andy had leaned over and said, “Now Louis, if you don’t do it, I will.” And Louis fancied himself plenty of things but he wasn’t cruel, and watching Harry Styles be destroyed and humiliated by Andy was not his idea of fun. So he shrugged vaguely and got up to follow Harry.
☂
The thing was, Harry probably could’ve avoided all the ridicule if he wanted to. As far as Louis could tell, he was pretty normal, quite nice, and didn’t have any unseemly skin conditions. But he insisted on wearing ridiculous vests to school and huge glasses that Louis knew for a fact he didn’t need (Louis on the other hand, genuinely needed glasses and nothing pissed him off more when people wore glasses just to look a certain way). And his hair. Louis wasn’t one to argue with a bit of hair gel now and then, but Harry used it obsessively and everyday and it just. It irked him.
But Louis had been taught to never be mean to someone so he tried. He really tried. (It didn’t always work though).
☂
Louis paused uncomfortably in front of Harry’s table. It was much smaller and less boisterous then Louis’s own, but apparently none of them managed to notice him. He cleared his throat awkwardly and still no one looked up.
There was Niall Horan on his right, and two people down from that was Liam Payne, and across from him was Harry, but otherwise, Louis couldn’t have named anyone at that table.
Deciding to take matters into his own hands, he stalked down the table until he was directly behind Harry. Harry was currently hunched over his book, systematically lifting mac and cheese into his mouth (and missing about 50% of the time) but he immediately turned around when Louis tapped his shoulder.
“Um.. Hi?”
“Hi.” Louis cleared his throat again, “Um, so, there’s this party? At my house? It’s a pool party.”
Harry just blinks at him.
“You’re invited.” He blurts. “I mean, you can come. If you want. This Saturday? At 1:00.”
Harry blinks again.
“You can invite someone else too. Like a plus one.”
He nods slowly. “Okay. Um, thanks.”
Louis nods and stumbles away from the table and tries to forget that it ever happened.
☂
Louis never in a million years thought Harry would actually come. I mean, Louis walked away to sit down at a table filled with laughing jocks who beat Harry up daily. It was common sense.
But Harry showed up right on time with tortilla chips and a Niall Horan. And damn did he dress up well. His had left his hair down, or at least washed it, and now it was voluminous mass of dark brown curls and the ridiculous glasses had been exchanged for some Ray Bans. He was wearing a loose black tanktop (probably Niall’s), some white swim shorts, and flip flops. Louis hadn’t- he didn’t. It was just- Harry was hands down the most attractive guy at that party and Louis could barely breath looking at him.
No one had bugged him or given Harry any shit for the beginning of the party. In fact, most girls were staring, spellbound at Harry. (A couple guys too, Louis included). Andy must’ve gotten jealous, or something equally pathetic, and decided to push Harry into the pool.
The plan backfired miserably when Harry got out of the pool and decided to take off his soaking shirt to reveal abs and tattoos and nipples and a happy trail and Louis is only human okay and his weakness happens to be cute boys.
And Harry is an exceptionally cute boy.
☂
Louis doesn’t know when his table became the therapy table but somehow, in between Perrie’s babbling about swallow tattoos and Harry putting on a snapback, eight or more girls in skimpy bikini’s had pulled up chairs around Louis and began discussing Harry’s transformation.
“Did you know he had hair like that?”
“How did he get arm muscles.”
“ I want to lick his tattoos fuck dammit god.”
“Matt would never do something like that for me.”
“Do you think he would come to the spring dance with me?”
“Who was evil enough to invite him dear god.”
“I think it was Louis.”
“Really?”
Louis starts and looks to find about 9 over-emotional under clad girls staring him down. (He was watching Harry lick some salsa of his hand and had zoned out of the conversation.)“What did I do?”
“You invited Harry, didn’t you?” One of the brunettes asks, licking her lips. Louis thinks her name is Haley or Haile or something.
Louis nods.
“How did you know?” A blond (Olivia?) whispers, her voice near reverential.
“Um. It was just a dare. Zayn made me do it.” Immediately, all heads turn to Perrie, and begin firing her with questions. Louis is just glad he can watch Harry suck on the straw for his smoothie in peace.
☂
Louis is incredibly grateful when the party ends. He’s tired and has a light headache going and he really just wants some alone time.
Everybody slowly starts trickling out come 4:30, leaving the ground littered with red solo cups and pool toys. Sighing, Louis slowly starts to pick up the trash from the ground. He’s pretty sure he looks like an 80 year old man, hunched over and grumbling, but he can’t bring himself to care. There’s a soft cough behind him, and he whirls around to find the one Harry Styles watching him. Well shit.
“Hi.” Louis lifts a hand in greeting.
Harry opens his mouth and accidently drops the chip container and car keys he was holding. He turns bright red and whispers a quiet “Oops” before bending down to retrieve them. He’s put his black shirt back on, but it’s still sopping wet and cling to his body so Louis can clearly see his nipples and his tattoos. It’s a hard life.
When Harry straightens up, his blush as gone way down and he has a small grin on his face. “Hi.”
Louis smiles back at him, and then pauses. “Wait, why are you still here? I thought I saw Niall leave.”
Harry pushes the bangs back from his face. “Niall is walking home. I guess I was in the bathroom longer then I thought if everyone is gone.”
“Oh.” Louis nods, and they stare at each other uncomfortable for a couple seconds.
“So…” Harry begins to slowly circle the pool, “Don’t you have someone to clean up for you? I mean, your house is huge.”
Louis flushes slightly. “My mum said that I could only have a party if it was outside and I cleaned up after. I guess she got sick of my friends ruining our carpets.”
Harry laughs. “Thanks, by the way. For like, inviting me. I guess.” And Louis heart aches because Harry probably doesn’t realize it was all a joke at his expense, that everyone was laughing at him behind his back. “Do y’want help? Like, cleaning everything up?”
And Louis wants to cry because what even is Harry Styles.
Instead he shoots a small smile at Harry and nods.
☂
Louis doesn’t mean to start hanging out with Harry. It’s not a conscious effort, he just… does. As it turns out, Louis’s new favorite bakery happens to be where Harry works. A complete coincidence. And the fact Louis now studies in the library after school doesn’t have anything to do with Harry’s presence.
They do start texting though. Harry, as it turns out, is great fun to text. He always has the cynical, clever comments that are normally lost when he’s talking. (Harry, for someone so smart, sounds incredible slow when he talks). Louis was never really one for texting, but now he can barely be away from his phone. It’s bad. It’s very bad. He should probably stop. He doesn’t.
☂
It’s Saturday and it’s raining and Louis is in a bad mood. He’s collapse on one of the spinny chairs at the bar in Harry’s bakery with his bottom lip pushed far enough out to put Perrie to shame. He definitely recognizes at least 3 of his mother’s friends milling around the shop and Louis wants to talk to none of them. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. Except maybe Harry. Definitely Harry.
Weekend-Harry is one of Louis’s favorite Harry’s. He never bothers with hair gel on the weekend, so his ends up in this half smoothed, puffy mess around his face. His clothes are also more relaxed, just dark wash jeans (probably ironed) and a (smooth) jumper (tucked in, of course). (The glasses are still present, but Louis has learned to ignore things like that).
Speaking of which, where on earth is Harry? Louis knew he had to be here, Harry would never slack off work and these were his hours. Hell, they had been texting about the bakery this morning! Louis straightened up and peered around again, looking for the tell tale nest of curls. Still no sign of him. Louis let out and huff and buried his head in his arms. His life sucked.
☂
It probably wasn’t healthy how close Louis and Harry had gotten so quickly. It felt like one moment they were forcing uncomfortable conversation while picking up trash and the next they were chatting it up like old friends.
The thing was, Louis really liked Harry. He liked the roundabout, mind-numbing way Harry told stories; he liked the way his eyes sparkled like something out of a Disney princess movie; he liked the fact that every time Harry saw Louis, he got a huge grin and his dimples popped out. He was so likable and sweet and genuine and it was like a breath of fresh air for Louis.
Maybe, Louis thought, just maybe, he and Harry were supposed to be friends. Maybe there was a reason they clicked instantly. Like soul mates or something. His other half. (Maybe those were really intense thoughts to be having about someone you had been friends with for a month) (But then again, neither Louis nor Harry had ever been great at subtlety).
☂
“Lou?” Louis lifts his head from where it was pillowed between his arms to find Harry standing there, with his glasses askew and a smear of flour on his cheek.
“Hey you shit. Where’d you disappear to?”
“I saw you come in and I thought I’d get your order ready. Tea?” Louis grinned and leaned up to pinch Harry’s cheek.
“Haz, you are an absolute doll.” Harry grins and pushes the Yorkshire tea and a chocolate croissant across the counter. He then careful removes and folds his apron, and walks around the bar so he can sit next to Louis. His eyes are bright green behind his glasses and his lips are puffy and cerise. He looks like some kind of angel. Almost on instinct, Louis lifts up his hand to smooth his hair down into the beloved side part. Harry nuzzles up into his hands and smiles dopily.
Then someone coughs really loudly from behind them and the moment’s ruined.
“So Harold,” he starts, biting into his croissant (the chocolate is still warm and gooey and the crust is perfectly flakey and Louis is gone for this boy), “Why do you work here?”
“Wha d’ya mean?” He asks, his fingers tapping against the counter.
“I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re the only student who goes to Holy Catholic who actually has a job.”
“I dunno.” He shrugs loosely. Then again, everything Harry does has a slight lax feel to it, like his limbs aren’t screwed in all the way. “It’s nice to have spare change I suppose. My family, we’re well off an’ everything, but- I have to earn the money I spend I guess.”
And Louis should probably stop talking now because he sounds like a rude, conceited dick and a money snob and- “But like, how can you afford Holy Catholic?”
Harry, thank god, only smiles wider and says, “I go there on a scholarship, Lou.”
Oh. Ok then. “Well that makes sense!”
Harry laughed delightedly and leaned his head against Louis’s shoulder and whispers, “Nobody really knows though. It’s a secret.” Then he lifts a finger to his mouth and makes a loud shushing noise, before giggling. Louis ruffled his hair lightly (careful not to hurt the side part) and leaned forward to take a sip of his tea. Harry watched with interest as Louis took a sip. “So how is the tea?”
“Best Yorkshire I’ve ever had. You could put my mum to shame.” Harry flushed and looks ridiculously please with himself. “You know I think your tea just improved my entire day.”
Harry blinked up at Louis with huge, concerned bambi eyes. “Were you having a bad day?”
Louis shrugged noncommittally. “I dunno. It wasn’t a good day. I think I’m on my man period.”
Harry laughed slowly and arched his back up like a cat, pushing his glasses into Louis’s shoulder. He sat up a bit more and his face was like- right there, all Louis had to do was move forward two inches and they would be kissing. They stared at each other for a couple tense seconds and Louis heard his breath hitch quietly. Harry’s eyes travelled down to Louis mouth and his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks and, and. Louis had never seen anyone so beautiful.
His hair was soft and slightly tangled and his skin looked smooth and pale, except for his cheeks, where there was a faint blush. Harry’s eyes were a dark, clear green and his eyelashes cut black lines across the iris. As Louis watched, Harry slowly licked his lips, so they were shiny and vivid pink. He leaned forward slightly, as if he were magnetized, and every nerve as on fire, and he could breath, and Harry was moving too, and-
Someone let out an exceptionally loud sneeze behind them.
Louis was about to turn around and fucking slap someone because couldn’t they sneeze with a bit more dignity and not ruin a very important moment and notice when two people are in a very heated staring session like there is such thing as being polite I mean come on, but then Harry is lunging across the space between them and snogging the life out of him and Louis stops thinking at all really.
☂
“Why is Halle going around saying you and Harry Styles were snogging at the bakery? Because you don’t just snog random people, Lou. And you definitely don’t snog Harry Styles.”
It’s Monday morning and Louis is tired and nervous about seeing Harry and cannot deal with a pissed of Zayn right now. He rubs he temples and says, “So?”
“Are you dating him?!” Zayn demands. Louis focuses on taking a deep breath and gently closing the locker. Getting angry in situations like these fixes nothing. He should stay calm and unaffected. Take a deep breathe. In and out. Not slam the locker.
“What if I am? Why does that matter to you?”
“Because I’m your best mate and you didn’t even tell me and it’s not some random bloke, Lou, ok? It’s Harry Styles. Harry Styles. You know the one you’ve been making fun of since we were 7? And now you’re snogging him?! It’s just-”
“It’s just what, Zayn?” Louis snaps. (Calm. Stay calm. Zayn only means well.) “It’s just what. I like Harry. He’s nice and funny and sweet, and for fuck’s sake I don’t even know if I’m dating him! So just- just leave it. Please.”
“But. But Lou. I didn’t- I didn’t even know you like guys! And now you’re fucking snogging one?! I just. Like, okay, that’s fine about Harry, whatever. Are you gay? Or like bi or something? But- why did you never tell me?” And oh. Well then.
“Wait, actually?”
“Actually what.” Zayn glared, folding his arms.
“You didn’t know I was not-straight?”
“Well, I mean, I had inklings but I didn’t want to like, offend you or anything and-” And then Louis starts laughing because oh my god he’s probably the campest person in this grade, he’s never bothered to hide his sexuality and he just figured everyone just kinda realized. But Zayn, polite, un-intrusive Zayn, Louis’s best mate for god’s sake, was too considerate to ever bring in up because he didn’t want to offend Louis and god. Just. Louis doesn’t mean to start laughing but then he is and Zayn is too and maybe everything is okay after all.
☂
Louis finds Harry in the Library during lunch. He’s sitting at the table in the back corner, hunched over some reading. The table is covered with books and papers and Louis wonders, not for the first time, how no one realizes Harry has a scholarship. Even if his family could pay easily for the admission, he still deserves one just for effort. Louis had never met anyone more interested in IB Economics.
“Hey you.” Louis smiles at Harry and drags a chair over. The librarian shoots him the stink eye at the sound it makes, but doesn’t come over.
“O-Oh. Hey.” Harry flushes slightly and begins fiddling with his glasses.
“So watcha doin’?”
“Oh, um.” Harry coughs, “Just some reading for chemistry. It’s quite fascinating.”
“Ohhhh. Someone didn’t do their homework.”
Louis was attempting for sounding teasing and fun, but apparently Harry has forgotten how flirt, because he just stutters awkwardly, “I -um, I’m reading ahead so I know the material. It’s- y’know. Good.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
They sit there uncomfortably, Harry with his face buried in a book, and Louis watching him. Harry, obviously, had dressed nicely today. His hair was clean and shiny and his part could’ve been measure with a ruler. His glasses were less dirty then Louis had ever seen and it looked like the frames had been polished. All his clothes had been freshly ironed and starched, without a wrinkle or stray hair in sight. It was impressive how well he was dressed. There’s a little flutter in Louis’s stomach when he thinks about the fact Harry had probably put a big effort into looking good. And why else would he want to look good except for-?
Louis should stop thinking like that right now.
“So” He starts awkwardly, because he knows what they’re both thinking. He also knows Harry will probably never bring it up if he isn’t forced to, so Louis has to take matters into his own hands. “Rumour has it that we’re dating.”
Harry makes an awkward jerking motion, his head jumping up and his glasses slipping down his nose. “Um- Really? I think- but not really, I just. Hmm.”
“I mean, does it like, bug you?”
“No, I mean like, does it- bug you?”
Louis shakes his head slightly and for a moment he has the sudden urge to giggle. “No.”
“Cool. Because, like. It would be awkward. Yeah.” Louis actually does giggle now, because it’s all so ridiculous and Harry is staring up at him with huge eyes and bitten lips and his fingers are twisting around and around and god, Louis is so incredibly gone for this boy.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?” And dammit, Louis wants to kiss him again. (To be fair, there’s rarely a time Louis doesn’t want to kiss Harry).
“Do you want to? Like- actually date? Me?”
And there are the dimples Louis loves so dearly. “Like go out? Together?”
Louis swallows. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Harry breathes, “Yeah, I would.” And then he’s leaning across and Louis leaning towards him and they’re kissing and it’s everything Louis remembered but better and Harry’s mouth is so soft and it takes like mint and tea. He feels Harry’s hands come up and tangle in his hair, and he just kisses Harry harder, messy hair be damned. He slowly licks his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip until he finally opens his mouth, trying to not slobber everywhere. Then Harry tentatively sticks his tongue out too, and it’s so cute and endearing, because Harry obviously has no idea what he’s doing, but he’s still willing to try, and it makes Louis want to kiss him even more.
Harry starts to pull back and Louis follows until he realizes Harry genuinely needs air and isn’t trying to change the angle or something. He slowly grins up at Louis and breathes, “I’m 99% sure we are breaking at least 4 school rules right now.”
“Oh. Whoops.” Louis pauses. “Do you want to stop?”
“No. God no.” There are two bright spots of pink on the apples of Harry’s cheeks and he looks drunk and kissed out and Louis wants to eat him.
“Good.” Louis decides. And then they’re kissing again and nothing else matters.