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Some people are born with that special something, that certain 'je ne sais quois'. This is a story about someone who was not.
~
“I spoke to my dad yesterday,” Harry told them all as they relaxed in their favourite corner of the sixth-form cafe. “My brother’s gonna come and live with us from now on.”
Zayn looked up from where he was doodling on Liam’s arm. “What? Your American twin?” he asked, smirking. “He actually exists, then. I was beginning to think you’d just gone a little crazy with the photoshop.”
Louis smiled at Harry’s scowl. He felt a little guilty admitting it but it had honestly taken him a few months to believe Harry wasn’t winding them up about having an identical twin, especially since said twin was living in a whole other country.
“Yes, he exists, Zayn.” Harry kicked him under the table, “My dad reckons that he might do better over here, you know, with me and Gem to help him out.”
Niall sat up in his seat, “Isn’t he some kinda genius or something? Why on earth would he need help from you?”
“Firstly, thank you, Niall, for the compliment. Secondly, yeah, he is a genius, I just don’t think, ah-” Harry scratched his elbow, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t think he has that many friends where he is.”
Louis licked his lips, trying to keep the affectionate expression off his face. “Well, we’ll be his friends, won’t we boys?” he asked, turning to the other three, who all nodded.
Glee covered Harry’s face, “Will you though? I mean, you don’t have to be best mates or anything but just help me make sure he’s alright and stuff. He has a hard time of it.”
“Sure we will, Haz, don’t worry about it,” Liam reassured, trying unsuccessfully to rub the ink doodles off his forearm.
Harry gave them all a satisfied nod.
~
Harry had explained it to him, back when they first became friends at the start of Secondary School. When Harry and his brother, Marcel, had been very young their parent’s had separated and his dad had been offered a job in the USA. For reasons that weren’t entirely clear to Louis, or, from what he could gather from Harry’s garbled explanation, to Harry himself, the two boys had been separated. Harry had stayed with his mum and sister while Marcel had gone with his dad to San Francisco.
They’d all been warned by Harry that Marcel was seriously into his school work but that had not really prepared them for what was coming.
The Monday after Marcel was supposed to have arrived Louis, Liam, Zayn and Niall all waited outside the school entrance as they watched Harry walk up the long drive alone.
“You did make him up, didn’t you?” Zayn teased as Harry reached them.
“His flight got delayed, he should’ve been here yesterday.” They all turned and walked inside as the bell rang for first period. “He’ll be getting in about now. Mum and Gem have gone to pick him up. He said he was going to come in around lunchtime.”
Louis grimaced, “He’s still coming in to school? I’d take the day off if it were me. Hell, I’d take two days off.”
Harry sighed, “Yeah, well, that’s Marcel.”
When lunch break arrived they all gathered in the main courtyard, with a good view of all the approaching cars.
“This is pretty exciting actually. I feel like I’m waiting to meet the Queen,” Niall spoke up, while stuffing cheesy-chips into his mouth.
Harry looked like he was about the reply when they all spotted Anne’s car coming up the drive. “That’s them!” Harry said and jumped up.
The car stopped and they all looked on as a tall, dark haired boy stepped out of the car, waving as it drove off.
“Hey! Hey, Marcel!” Harry yelled, waving at his brother and striding over. Louis grinned as he saw Marcel’s face break into a wide smile. Even from this distance he could see that the two boys were indeed identical, although they couldn’t have styled themselves any differently if they’d tried. Marcel had tamed his hair into a side parting and had massive sellotaped-up glasses resting on his nose, which practically covered half his face. He wore ridiculously formal trousers with a shirt and tie as well as a sweater-vest. It made Louis chest hurt to look at him. Of course he had a hard time at school, if he dressed like that.
As the brothers hugged each other in the middle of the school courtyard it became clear from the way they held on so tightly that, even with an ocean between them, they had stayed close.
They were receiving a few odd looks from other students. No doubt nobody at the school expected Harry Styles to be randomly embracing a complete geek. That was the thing about Harry, though, and Louis was so jealous. Harry didn’t care what people thought, he was always kind to people and would always rise above even the cruellest of taunts. Louis thought it must be an incredibly freeing way to live. The guilt spread inside him when he imagined the things people would say about him if he hung out with Marcel.
Louis’ thoughts were cut short when Harry brought his brother over to meet the rest of them, who had been waiting patiently at the edge of the courtyard.
“Marcel, this is Louis, Zayn, Liam and Niall,” he point to each of them in turn. “Guys, this is Marcel.”
They all offered various incarnations of ‘alright, mate?’. Louis smiled at his feet when Liam went as far as to shake his hand.
“Nice to meet you all. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Zayn choked on his drink at the unexpected voice coming from Harry’s brother. They’d anticipated and American accent, sure, but the nasal tone was so different to Harry’s that they were caught off-guard. Niall’s jaw had literally dropped.
Harry coughed into the silence as Marcel looked on expectantly.
“Er,” Louis started, unsure of what to say. “Did you want us to show you around? We’ve got a while until lessons start again.”
Marcel smiled and Louis caught sight of two dimples framing his lips. He’d never noticed those on Harry before. He felt himself blush as Marcel replied, “Sounds neat.”
Louis rubbed his neck, in order to try and realign his thinking, stamping on Zayn’s foot as the other boy smirked.
~
Over the next few days all the boys had become accustomed to Marcel’s presence. It turned out that Marcel shared a few classes with some of them. Louis was grateful when Marcel turned up in his Physics lesson as, with a few whispered explanations, he thought he might actually be able pass the next exam they were set. It’d also given him a chance to get to know Marcel without the whole of the school watching. It turned out they had a fair bit in common, with Marcel sharing his love of football (“It’s football, not soccer, Marce. You need to get out of that habit sharpish.”) and his secret passion for musicals (“How can you say ‘Grease’ is better than ‘Les Miserable’? Really, Lou, that’s like blasphemy.”).
A few months after Marcel had arrived, he and Harry had invited all the boys over for the weekend. They’d already spent a good few hours teaching Marcel how to play Fifa on the playstation, which had somehow devolved into yet another game of Never Have I Ever. They were so consumed that none of them noticed Marcel leave the room.
Louis was on his way back from the bathroom when he caught a glimpse of Marcel sitting by himself in what Louis had always thought of as the study.
He knocked gently a few times on the open door causing Marcel to look up.
“Wotcher, Marcel. How come you’re not with the others?” Louis pointed to the ground next to Marcel, “Can I sit?”
Marcel budged up, “Yeah, sure you can.” He watched as Louis sat down, bringing legs into his chest.
“So? Wanna talk about anything?”
“I’m just used to being on my own, really. Sometimes it gets a bit much, all the people.” Marcel shrugged, “Stupid really.”
Louis shook his head, “Nah, it’s not stupid. Those boys can be a tad overwhelming, ‘specially for a newbie like you.”
They stayed silent for a while. Louis watched as Marcel opened his mouth as if to talk a few times, but thinking better of it.
He stretched his legs out in front of himself, “Are you missing the States at all? Must be weird for you here.”
Marcel hummed, “Not really. I’ve gotten used to it all now, I think. I only really have dad to miss anyway and I speak to him every few days. It’s nice being with mom and Harry and Gem. It kind of makes me wish I’d stayed here in the first place, everything would’ve been different. I thought I was alright by myself but I think now maybe having friends was something I was missing.” He looked back at Louis, an embarrassed expression covering his features, as if he hadn’t intended to say so much, “Sorry, I’m boring you.”
“You’re not boring me.”
“No?”
“Not even a little.”
Marcel stood and moved over the upright piano near the window. Louis followed his movements as he started to play with the keys.
“Do you know how to play it?” Louis nodded towards the instrument.
Marcel moved his hand away, shaking his head, “Only a little bit.” He straightened his glasses, “Do you want to go back?”
Louis honestly didn’t think he would mind staying in this room with Marcel all evening. It was that thought that prompted him to stand up, brush down his jeans and nod, “Yeah, c’mon. We don’t have to play that game with them if you don’t want.”
Marcel huffed, “You sure? You can play, I just don’t really have anything to drink to.”
“It’s stupid anyway. No, we’ll find something else to do. I’m pretty sure Liam brought his Wii with him.” Marcel smiled at him and it started to dawn on Louis how much he like seeing that smile directed at him.
~
The next day Louis was walking past the music block on his free period when he heard someone playing the piano, the sound drifting through the open window. Actual competent musical talent was something of a rarity at the school, so it made Louis step back and sneak further towards the window. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, recognising the dark head of hair and sweater vest combo.
He tiptoed into the building, opening the door to the main music room where Marcel was playing alone. When he was standing about two feet behind Marcel, Louis sighed loudly, “Well, somebody’s a dirty great liar. Aren’t they, Marce?”
Marcel jumped up as if he’d been shocked and Louis stepped back, smiling gleefully.
“Oh, Lou, it’s you.” He chuckled, “Rhymes.”
Louis raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t sound much like ‘only a little bit’ to me,” he said, nodding towards the piano.
Marcel rubbed the inside of his forearm and shrugged, “I thought you would’ve made me play.” He bit his lip, “I don’t like to play in front of people.”
Louis felt a wave of unrefined fondness for the boy wash over him. “Marcey, c’mon,” he placed his hand on Marcel’s shoulder, fingers brushing the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Marcel’s eyes flicked up to meet Louis’. “Will you play for me? Do I really count as ‘people’? Please?”
“You promise you won’t laugh?”
“Of course I won’t,” Louis pouted. “I’m not a complete arse-hole, you know.”
Marcel spoke quietly, “No. I know you’re not.” He sat back down on the piano stool and nervously patted the spot next to him until Louis sat down too.
As Marcel started to play, Louis recognised the soft notes. “Oh. I think I know this one.”
“I’m sure you know it,” Marcel smiled, looking over. “It’s Beethoven. Moonlight Sonata. It’s a classic, Louis.”
Louis huffed and Marcel focused again on playing. Louis watched the other boy move his fingers delicately over the keys, face soft in concentration, body swaying slowly. He really was beautiful. Louis eyes travelled over his soft skin, full lips and shining eyes covered by the glasses. When did this happen? he thought to himself. Where the hell did this attraction come from? It couldn’t just be looks, he’d never felt this way about Harry. It must be something more-
“You’re looking at me weird.”
Louis jerked, “Sorry?” He hadn’t even realised Marcel had stopped playing.
“Why were you looking at me like that?” Marcel shifted in his seat.
“I was just so dazzled by your amazing talent, Marce,” Louis grinned.
Marcel looked down to his own hands, “Don’t joke about me.”
Oh, Marcel. Louis reached his hand to Marcel’s face, forcing him to look Louis in the eye. “Hey, I wasn’t making a joke. You’re really good. I couldn’t do that in my dizziest day dreams.”
A small smiled reached Marcel’s lips, “You play?”
“I’m at a sort of painting by numbers level. Some would call it playing. I personally don’t.” He poked Marcel’s thigh, immeasurably happy that’d he’d got him smiling again.
“You’re so nice to me, you and the other guys. I’ve never had anyone be so nice to me apart from my family,” Marcel whispered, pushing his glasses further up his face.
“Don’t say that.” Marcel looked up at his words, frowning slightly. “It makes me sad to think of you sad.”
A comfortable silence fell between the two of them as they moved closer together on the piano stool.
“I don’t feel so sad when I’m with you.”
Louis sighed. He didn’t really have a chance.
~
A few weeks later they all went over to Niall’s after school. Niall was frowning at Marcel as they all gathered in the living room to watch a movie. When they’d arrived Marcel had been so endearingly polite to Niall’s dad that Niall had received a shove from his father, “You could stand to learn something from him, son. Knows where his manners are, this one.”
“Niall, stop glaring. Your dad’s right, you’re a total cave man,” Liam teased, throwing a packet of crisps at Naill’s head.
The boys chuckled but Louis saw Marcel shift uncomfortably where he was sitting on the floor. From the sofa behind him Harry whispered, “Don’t worry, Marcey, he’s only joking,” as he squeezed his brother’s shoulder.
At that point the doorbell rang. Zayn jumped up to get it, returning seconds later followed by Perrie, his girlfriend, and three other girls.
“Hello, ladies!” Louis smiled.
“Hi Lou,” the petite girl at the front of the group replied.
As they settled themselves down Zayn started, “Oh, you guys haven’t met Marcel yet. Marcel, this is Jesy, Jade and Leigh-Anne. You know Perrie.”
Marcel waved shyly at them.
“Guys, this is Harry’s brother, Marcel. He’s been living in San Francisco until now.”
“Oh, America?” Leigh-Anne asked. “Come over here, tell us all about it.”
Marcel looked like a deer caught in headlights and stared pleadingly at Louis until he pushed him towards the babble of girls. “Go on, then,” he urged.
As Marcel struck up a rather stilted conversation with the new arrivals, Niall started playing his “Reservoir Dogs” DVD and the rest of them fell silent, watching the titles roll.
“Cute as a button, every single one of you!” Marcel’s distinctive voice cut through Mr Blonde, Joe and Nice Guy Eddie’s on screen conversation, followed by girlish giggles.
The film had been playing for at least 45 minutes but Louis wasn’t paying attention. All he could concentrate on was Marcel in the corner, talking animatedly to Perrie and Jade. They’d hit it off like a house on fire and for some reason it made Louis mad.
“Gettin’ jealous, Lou?” Liam asked.
Louis turned to Liam. “What? No,” he scoffed. “I don’t need the girls’ attention every time I see them.”
“I wasn’t talking about them,” Liam looked over to Marcel, who was beaming as Jesy tried on his glasses. Holy hell, his eyes were perfect.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he blushed. Liam nodded slowly, mocking and turned back to the film.
Louis caught Harry’s eye. The other boy was levelling him with his most serious expression. Louis shifted and stared at the telly, feeling Harry’s gaze stay on him with Marcel’s laughter filling his ears.
Hours later, when they were all leaving, Marcel sidled up to Louis and tugged at his sleeve. “Did I do alright?” he asked, sheepishly.
“With what, Marce?”
“Making friends with the girls? I’ve never really done it before.”
Louis laughed, “I think you got them well and truly on-side, mate.”
“’Mate’,” Marcel repeated, putting on an accent. He sounded so much like Harry that Louis had to double take. “I’m glad we’re mates,” Marcel looked over his shoulder to where the other lads were saying goodbye to Niall and stepped closer to Louis. “I’m really glad I met you, you know that?” he whispered, eyes searching.
Louis’ heart beat faster in his chest. Was Marcel trying to put the moves on him? He let out a breath, “I’m glad I met you too. I-”
“Hey, Marcel!” Harry interrupted from his car doorway. “Hurry up, it’s bloody freezing!”
Louis scratched his ear, “You better go.”
Marcel nodded and headed over to his brother’s car. Louis watched as Marcel tripped over his own foot, flush creeping up his neck. Ridiculous, beautiful nerd.
~
Louis was sitting in the corridor waiting for the teacher to arrive for his General Studies class. The man was usually at least half an hour late and it really was a pointless way to spend an hour but it was the only class he shared with Harry, so he always went.
Harry walked over, throwing his bag on the ground and sliding down the wall to sit next to him. “So,” he started, eyes twinkling. “You and Marcel, eh?”
Louis bit the inside of his cheek, “’Me and Marcel’ what?”
“Don’t give me that! You two have been getting pretty close, wouldn’t you say?”
He looked up to see Harry’s eyebrows raised at him. “What do you mean?”
Harry sighed in exasperation. “He likes you,” he said, flicking Louis on the arm. “A lot.”
Louis tried desperately not to smile too widely. “Well, I like him too. He’s a very likeable guy.”
“Louis!” Harry moaned, head-butting his shoulder.
“What? What do you want me to say, Haz?” Louis withered slightly under Harry’s glare, “Alright. Yes, I like him like him. I just don’t really know what I’m doing.” Louis grimaced, rubbing his jaw. “I’ve never met anyone like him before. Is he even interested in relationships?” He turned to Harry, questioning.
Harry’s voice was gentle, smile evident as he said, “I think he would be interested in one with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Look, I don’t mean to go all ‘older brother’ on you-”
“Aren’t you technically younger than him?” Louis interrupted with a smirk.
Harry ignored him, “Like I said, I don’t mean to go all ‘older brother’ on you, Lou, because I know you’re a good guy - you’re probably the best mate I have - but can you just, I don’t know, be careful with him, yeah?” Harry ran a hand through his own hair, “He really likes you. I mean he literally talks about you all the time. If something were to happen between the two of you-” Harry paused, seemingly searching for the words. “I just worry that if it ended badly, it would push him further into his shell. He has such a hard time,” he trailed off.
Louis licked his lips, “Harry, I know he has it hard. That’s why I’m nervous.” He stopped for a second. “That and I’m terrified of getting on your bad side. I know you’re a hard nut under that cupcake exterior.”
Harry giggled quietly when Louis nudged him.
They were silent for a while before Louis asked, “Does he really talk about me all the time?”
Their teacher arrived at that point, rushing out false apologies.
“All the time, it’s sickening,” Harry grumbled, collecting his bags and shoving Louis in front of him through the door while Louis grinned. “I don’t know what he sees in you.”
~
Louis had decided yesterday that he needed to make a move with Marcel and now, when they were all over at the Styles’ again, seemed as good an opportunity as any.
He went up to where Zayn was showing Marcel one of his new drawings, “Sorry, Zayn. Marcel, can I steal you for a moment?”
Marcel beamed, “I’m all yours, Lou. Did you want some help with the Physic homework?”
Louis glanced awkwardly around the room at the other boys. Zayn was standing behind Marcel, giving him a double thumbs-up. Louis coughed, “Um. No, thanks. Actually, could we maybe go somewhere more private?”
An almost imperceptible look of panic flashed across Marcel’s face before he replied, “Sure, we can go up to my room if you want?”
As Louis followed Marcel out of the living room, he looked back to see the other four boys grinning and waving. Liam mouthed the words ‘good luck’ and Louis rolled his eyes.
They walked into Marcel’s room. It was less cluttered than Harry’s but still showed the signs of a teenage inhabitant. Louis smiled to himself when he saw a picture on the dresser of Harry and Marcel when they were young children, arms wrapped around each other, grins plastered across their faces.
Marcel sat on his bed, hands in his lap, “What was it you wanted to talk to me about, then?”
Louis scratched his head as he sat down next to Marcel, “You make it sound so formal. I just wanted to-” he stopped short. “Um, just to ask, really, um, if you wanted to, or if you ever thought it might be, um, I was thinking-” he inwardly cringed at himself, spit it out, Tomlinson. He took a deep breath, “I’m not imagining it, am I? This thing between us?”
He looked straight at Marcel, who blushed and turned his head away.
“I’m not. So I wanted to ask you whether we could make it official,” Louis rounded off, smiling nervously.
Marcel looked over to him, blank expression on his face, “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Louis closed his eyes, he was going to have to spell it out. “I want you to be my boyfriend, Marcel. If you want to.”
He opened his eyes again to the sight of Marcel, looking blindsided, “Are you making fun of me? Why would you date someone like me? Everybody’ll think you’re a loser by association.”
“I don’t care what everybody thinks.”
Marcel eyed him, sceptically.
Louis sighed, “Okay, so maybe I care a little bit. But I care about you more.” He cautiously placed his hand on Marcel’s leg, “I’m being completely serious, Marce. I think you’re absolutely brilliant.”
Marcel smiled at his hands and shrugged, “I guess that would be alright. If you wanted to, I mean. That could be- You could be my boyfriend. I wouldn’t mind.”
“’You wouldn’t mind’?” Louis asked. “Listen, it’s fine if you’re not interested. I don’t want you to say yes because you feel you have to.”
“No! I want to, I do, I really do.” Marcel rushed, grabbing Louis’ hand. “I want to be your boyfriend more than anything.”
He’s adorable, Louis thought, relieved. “Can I kiss you?”
Marcel turned bright red, but nodded, eyes flicking down to Louis’ lips.
Louis smiled, letting out a shaky breath, “Okay.” He shifted closer to Marcel on the bed. They had a few false starts and embarrassed apologies as Louis knocked Marcel’s glasses and Marcel accidently sat on Louis’ hand as his shuffled nearer.
Louis’ grinned and began to lean in to Marcel’s body. He paused for moment, their lips barely touching. He could feel Marcel’s warm breath across his cheek.
Then Marcel was pushing forward.
He closed his eyes and lent further in to the kiss, hand coming up to rest on Marcel’s neck, the other at his waist. He opened his mouth slightly, encouraging Marcel and let out an undignified whimper when Marcel did the same. Louis felt Marcel’s hand travel up his back, gripping him tightly. He started to lean them both backwards so he was on top of Marcel, lining their bodies up. Marcel groaned below him.
He licked his way into Marcel’s mouth, who immediately copied the action. Louis hummed, revelling in the thought that he was the first person to get to do this.
They carried on like that for a while, hands tentatively exploring. After a couple of lazy minutes Louis started to kiss the corner of Marcel’s mouth and work his way down to Marcel’s neck. Marcel giggled as Louis sucked the sensitive skin at his jaw, his hands tight in Louis’ hair and mouthing hotly into his ear.
“What is going on here!?”
Louis jumped up as if shocked.
Marcel’s mother appeared at the doorway and continued to yell, “What are you doing!?”
Louis stole a look at Marcel, who was on the bed still, speedily attempting to straighten his ruffled clothes. “Anne,” Louis pleading, hands coming up to his head. “It’s not-”
“Don’t you dare tell me it’s not what it looks like, Louis Tomlinson!” she shouted, expression deadly.
“Mom!” Marcel whined.
“You be quiet! I can’t believe you’d do this.” She rounded on Louis again, “I want you out, Louis. I’m serious. I thought I could trust you.”
Louis jaw dropped, “Mrs Cox, I really think-”
“Get out! Now.”
Louis looked desperately at Marcel, who shrugged at him. “Alright, I’ll go. I’ll just- I’ll call you later, alright?”
Marcel nodded and Louis left the room, cowering under Anne’s glare. As he walked through the kitchen to leave through the back door, he met the other boys.
“There he is! What have you been up to, Tommo?” Zayn asked, his hand blocking Louis’ exit route.
“Um, the usual, you know. I’m actually just heading off, so-” Louis slumped as the sound of more yelling came from upstairs.
Niall turned to him, wide eyed, “That anything to do with you?”
He cringed, “Maybe?”
Harry groaned, taking in Louis ruffled hair and red mouth, “Oh, Louis. What did you do?”
“I didn’t mean to! It just happened! I have to go, your mum wants to kill me.” He ran to the door as Harry walked to the stairs and shouted, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah!?”
Later, when he pulled up in his own drive way, he dropped his head to the steering wheel, groaning to himself, “What have you gotten yourself into?”
~
“Hello, Marcel Styles speaking.”
“Marcel! It’s Louis. God, I’m really sorry, that was so embarrassing. Is your mum really mad?”
“Hey Lou. It’s alright, don’t worry about mom, Harry and Gem talked her down. I think it just came as a shock. She still thinks I’m a kid.”
“Right, okay. So, she doesn’t hate me?”
“Nobody could hate you, Lou.”
“Rhymes.”
“Yeah. She didn’t scare you off?”
“No, of course not. I mean, she was pretty terrifying but I- I really like you, Marce. ”
“That’s good.”
“If we’re going to do this, I’m going all in.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s- Yeah.”
“Listen, Lou, I have to go.”
“Oh, alright. But I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”
“Mmhm. Hey, Louis?”
“Yes?”
“Was I- Was I any good? You know. At- at the- the stuff?”
“Yeah, Marcel. You were really good.”
“Oh good.”
“Amazing, in fact.”
“So were you.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you at school then.”
“Sure. See you.”
~
On Monday, Louis didn’t have any classes with any of the lads in the morning, so spent the time until break in class nervously twitching his leg and looking at the clock.
When the bell went he made a beeline for where he knew everyone would be. He stopped short when he finally saw them all. They were all laughing at some story Niall was telling, Marcel’s glasses sliding down his face as he giggled.
Louis took a deep breath. He was going to do this. Marcel was wonderful and perfect and kind and he was going to show the world that he thought so, haters be damned. He took a few steps closer before Zayn spotted him.
“Ah! The prodigal son returns. Welcome back,” Zayn bowed.
“Morning, gents,” he greeted, standing in between Marcel and Liam. All the other boys seemed to stop and watch him and Marcel.
“Hi,” Marcel said, breathlessly.
Louis steeled himself, “Hey Marce.” He smiled and fitted his hand into Marcel’s, locking their fingers together. A perfect match.
Trying hard to keep from smiling too wide and failing most spectacularly, he took in Marcel’s joyful expression, dimples and all. He squeezed Marcel’s hand tight.
“Yeah, alright, Harry filled us in. We get it. You two are together now. No need to show off,” Niall whinged.
Liam pulled a face, “Niall, they’re just holding hands.”
“Shut up, Liam. I’m so alone.”
“Awww, baby.”
The conversation started to flow between the boys again, as they teased Niall, but all Louis could focus on was Marcel’s hand in his. That and the fact his cheeks were starting to ache from smiling so much. He could hear people behind him whispering and knew it must be about him and Marcel. Now that he’d done it, though, he found that he didn’t particularly care.
He leaned closer to Marcel. “Sorry it took me so long,” he whispered.
“No need to be sorry, Lou. I’d wait forever for you.” Marcel ran his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand, “Rhymes.” His eyes twinkled behind his glasses and Louis couldn’t look away.
~
Louis wrapped his arm around Marcel’s waist as the group of them walked towards the school hall, which had been converted into a big dance hall for the end of year ball.
Marcel stopped a little before of the door, letting the others walk ahead.
“You alright, Marcey?” Louis asked, moving in front of his boyfriend.
“Do I look okay? I still look like a complete nerd don’t I?” he asked apprehensively, fiddling with his glasses.
Louis pouted, pushed himself on to his tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on Marcel’s lips. “You look beautiful, babe,” he said, brushing his hands over Marcel’s suited chest.
“You don’t think I should’ve let my hair out, like Harry’s?” Marcel questioned, ducking his head.
“No, I like you just as you are.” Louis paused and straightened out his face, “In fact, I think you’re pretty swell, Marcel.”
Marcel stared at him for a moment, then grinned, “That was terrible”.
“Hey, I’ve been working on that for ages. Just been waiting for the right occasion,” Louis laughed.
“You’re an idiot.”
“So are you. C’mon on, I want to show you off.”