Work Text:
"you are searching everywhere
you want the sun
find your home
between your eyes"
- Žiga Stanovnik
It was raining outside. An abandoned cup of tea sat next to a curly-haired teenage boy. The rain was just loud enough to cover up the thoughts that were swirling around in Harry’s head, much like the puddles the tour bus kept sloshing through. It was mid-tour and he was starting to feel something entirely unfamiliar – burnt out. He loved touring and he loved performing and he loved the fans, really he did, but today there was an ache of homesickness that wouldn’t go away. Maybe it was because they didn’t have 47 interviews or photo shoots to occupy them today. Or more likely, it was the voicemail he’d got from Gemma that morning. She’d left it in the wee hours, forgetting time differences, and he’d woken up to it.
“Harry? It’s me. Gemma, obviously. Just wanted to, erm, say hello. How are you? Hope everything’s alright. Mum wanted to call, but she didn’t want to bother you. She misses you.” There had been a pause, and he could hear the deliberate swallow. “We all miss you. Call soon, yeah? Haven’t heard from you in awhile. See you.” She hung up the phone rather abruptly, and he had felt the sting all day. She was right – he hadn’t called in a long time. Busyness, too many people around, time zones, the list goes on, but he should have.
The rain was coming down harder now, the sky darker and the wind louder. This rain was different from his rain. It was noisy and rough, full of impatience. It felt heavy, like a burden. He kept looking out the window, thinking about the rain in England and how much he missed it. His thoughts were on home. He missed the familiar cobblestone streets of Holmes Chapel and the way the shops lit up against the darkness of the rain. He missed the people too, he mused. How he could wave at friends while walking nearly everywhere, knowing most everyone in his town. The routine of walking home in the rain from school or work, then finally stepping out of the downpour when he got to his house. He thought of the wash of heat as he shrugged off his wet coat and kicked off his boots. Most of all though, Harry missed seeing his mum and sister every day - home-cooked meals peppered with questions about his day and board games that always ended with a punch in the arm and a begrudging smile. He knew that at 19, he shouldn’t be this sad about it. But most kids his age go to university, probably near home, and have some adjustment. This was his second world tour. Now, everyone he knew was going to university, getting engaged, having children, and living their own lives. His sister had her own successful life as a proper adult and even his mum just got remarried.
Life just never let him catch up.
Suddenly, the bus jerked and his attention flew from the window to the couch across from him, where Zayn was taking a nap, a book carelessly draped across his stomach. Harry watched the steady rise and fall of Zayn’s chest for a minute, before standing up and walking to the back of the bus. Everyone was taking this rare time to just… relax. It didn’t come too often. Harry crept closer to the bunks, so as not to disturb anyone. Niall was in his bed, dozing with his iPhone in hand, Twitter app open. Liam was watching a movie on his laptop. He was watching The Dark Knight Rises, one of his favorites. His eyelids were drooping and with a final yawn, he shoved the laptop away and allowed himself to sleep. Louis was the only one awake; Harry now could hear him speaking in hushed tones on the phone.
“Hey, hey! Lottie, Felicity, guys, shush! I can’t hear mum.” Harry felt a twitch of a smile. Louis was talking to his family, probably on speaker, and he could vividly imagine each of Louis’ sisters, and his mum, excitedly gathering around the phone. They adored Louis to no end, and the feelings were very much reciprocated. “Yeah, mum, I’m eating well. Food’s right good. Got my own Wikipedia page today! Pretty sick.” Someone else started talking, and Harry can hear the enthusiasm through the phone (and also by the way Lou’s eyes lit up a little). “Aw, Lottie, that’s really nice. I told you so! Glad you got the part. Yeah? Oh, good. Tell them all I say ‘hello!’ and give ‘em all a hug.” Harry could hear the pride and warm buzz in Louis’ voice that he got whenever he spoke with his family. Finally, the conversation had to end. “Well, guess it’s about that time. Thanks for calling.” A longer pause this time, and a slump in the older boy’s shoulders. “I… miss you too. All of you. Love you.” And with that, Louis hung up and flopped on his bed, sighing. “You can sit down now, Harry.”
Harry laughed, embarrassed. “Sorry. Didn’t want to interrupt,” he whispered, clamoring over to the edge of Louis’ bunk. “How are they?”
“Well as to be expected. Lottie got the part in the play she’s been dying for, knew she’d get it. Told her so, but she didn’t believe me. This Saturday they’re all going to my grandparents for a cousin’s birthday.” He began to tap his fingers on his thigh rapidly, staring at the bottom of the bunk above him. Harry knew Louis, so he knew that Louis only got fidgety when he was upset or uncomfortable, so he climbed in closer. It was a natural instinct. Louis was upset, so Harry wanted to fix it. He wrapped an arm around Louis’ chest.
“Whatsa matter?” Harry mumbled into the pillow.
Louis let out an exasperated sigh, but allowed Harry to curl his long limbs into the bed. “I love this. I love being here with you. And the boys. And I love performing and living this life. But sometimes, it just smacks me in the face.” Harry nodded into Louis’ arm. “That I’m missing so much all the time and there’s nothing I can do to change that without giving up everything we’ve done. It’s so unfair. I just… fuck it all, I miss them. I miss my family and my friends and playing football without cameras all the time. I miss being able to hug my best friend without all the rumors and assumptions and shit. I miss the before and I miss the now, I guess. It’s stupid, I know.” He said this all with so much anger, so much pain. Louis was never one to keep his thoughts to himself, but sometimes it’s easier not to say what everyone else around you is feeling so viscerally.
“You’re not stupid. I feel the same way, sometimes. Like today with Gemma and the rain.” Harry didn’t need to explain what had happened earlier. Louis just sort of knew. The smaller boy nestled into the large curve of Harry’s body and settled in. They stayed like this for several minutes, warming each other slowly. Finally, Louis whispered,
“Harry, promise me something.”
The immediate response: “Anything.”
“Promise me that no matter what, we’ll make it home.”
“Might not be the same when we get there,” was the simple answer. Louis harrumphed, slightly disgruntled. He exhaled gradually and allowed himself to relax, limbs tangled with Harry’s.
As the tour bus rattled on, the rain continued to beat down, lulling them all with its steady downpour. With Louis practically asleep in his arms, Harry could hear Liam’s gentle snore above them and he could see Niall’s shock of blonde hair in the next bunk over, and just a few feet away, Zayn was probably still deep in sleep. And without warning, the rain that had felt so foreign before was suddenly just as it was in Cheshire. Keeping those he loved nearby and always, always bringing him home. It was never any different – he just couldn’t see how it was the same.
“Louis,” Harry nudged the drowsy body that fit so well in his contour.
“Wh-What?” Louis murmured, sleep still clouding his senses.
“I think that’s the point. Making a home. You don’t just have one, you know. You build it. With memories, with stories. And with people. It’s always with you, like the rain. You just have to find it.” Louis nodded sleepily and shrugged it off, but Harry wasn’t done yet. “Finding it can be hard, especially when all you want is the home you’re used to. And you can’t find it with everyone. It has to be just right.” Harry stopped speaking and sat up, just a bit, and looked around. “And we’re just right. We always have been. You and me. And our boys. We’re good, y’know? When we’re together, we’re home.” With this realization put to rest, Harry sighed contentedly and lay back down with Louis, letting the now-familiar sense of security of being with them (all of them, even if they weren’t right there) fill him up and never leave.