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Louis thinks he’s pretty much sick of Bach by the time his teacher kicks him out for the eighth night in a row. He knows that Mr. Baron means well, but he guesses that having a perfectionist twenty-one-year-old in his office all day might get kind of annoying, since he keeps messing up on the same fucking measure over and over again.
“Louis,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face, “go home.”
Louis sighs and packs up his violin; he hates the case he has but it’s all the school will rent him for the semester, since his sisters broke his by “accidentally dropping it off the balcony” when he went home over Christmas holiday.
“But its sounding fantastic,” says Mr. Baron once he sees how annoyed Louis is that he has to leave. “Really, really good. I don’t know why you didn’t choose something harder.”
It's one of the hardest pieces out there, Louis thinks.
Louis shrugs. He salutes Mr. Baron and lets himself out into the cool March air, and walks to his car, putting his violin in the back seat and setting off towards the flat. His knuckles are white from gripping the wheel. It doesn’t sound good, he thinks to himself, that one measure makes it sound like my string is out of tune all the time. He stops at a light and his eyes flicker to the pack of cigarettes Zayn left on the passenger’s seat. Louis would sometimes take one out and just put it in between his lips, just to have something there, because he never has anything significant between his lips besides food and straws. Once or twice he’s lit one, even though he knows how bad it is, but sometimes he likes the burning in his lungs.
He turns left into the parking lot of the flat complex and shuts his car, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, letting out long, exaggerated breaths through his nose. He is not ready for performing with the London Philharmonic at the beginning of June. He never will be ready, and he has no bloody idea as to why they want him to play with them in the first place, since he's truly awful. He sighs and gets out of the car and treks up the three flights of stairs down to apartment 3-D and unlocks the door with the spare key above the frame since he always forgets his in his car.
When he gets in the flat he sighs because it’s always a fucking mess. There’s clothes thrown all over the place and dirty plates from pizza and pasta and god knows what else eyeing him in the sink, calling his name to be cleaned and put away. He sets his violin down in his room and peeks into Zayn’s, and him and Niall are sitting on the bed together kissing. They don’t usually do that, considering Zayn has a boyfriend, but when he’s not around, Niall and Zayn become the tongue-masters of the 21st century. He clears his throat a little and they jump apart, both flushed and breathless.
He sets off to clean the dishes and doesn’t even greet Liam when he comes in and gives him a pat on the back. He’s staying the night, and it’ll be long, he thinks to himself as he scrubs what looks a lot like dried semen off of the side of a wine glass.
He loves the boys. He really does. They are the sweetest, kindest people he knows. But he hates them so much when they try to get him to talk. He hates talking, especially around people he doesn’t know.
That’s another thing he loves and hates. Their concern for him. It sickens him. They’re so touchy feely about him. Sure he likes to cuddle with them; they’re cuddly people. He likes it when he’s feeling down and they throw him on the couch and cuddle him close and watch a sappy movie like Titanic or something until he falls asleep and they both tuck him in. They’re like his unofficial official parents, and for that he’s grateful. He likes it when Liam’s over too, because he’s just another warm body to make him feel better. He also has a fuzzy head, which has grown a little in the past months, and Louis has rubbed his head harder to try to hell him to cut it back again, but he doesn’t think it’s been working.
He’s known Niall since he was in primary school. The Irish boy moved from Mullingar for his father's job in his year two and Louis’ year four. They were neighbors. Then in secondary Zayn joined the picture when he moved from Bradford for a better school for him and his sisters. They all decided to go to uni together (Louis two years before the others, but whatever) and within the first few days of all of them being together, Zayn found Liam and it’s been the four of them ever since.
The last time Louis spoke more than a few sentences to anyone was when he was sixteen. He’s now 21, and fairing well from having his mouth shut all the time. He can't fuck up his life if he's quiet.
“Ready for dinner babe?” says Zayn as he and Niall walk out of the room looking a bit flustered and quite red in the face. Louis nods and sits at the long stool at the island in the middle of their tiny kitchen and sighs when Niall wraps his arms around his neck and kisses the top of his head. He hadn’t noticed the pot of pasta on the stove and is a little surprise when Zayn is handing him a bowl of sauced pasta in less than thirty seconds. He eats silently, completely aware that Niall and Zayn are watching his every move. Liam is sitting on the couch watching the telly, clearly not noticing that his boyfriend and Niall were just heavily making out in Zayn’s room.
“What’s up, bud?” asks Niall as Louis puts his fork down, only halfway done with his pasta.
He shrugs and pushes the bowl away, and Zayn frowns. “Is there something wrong?”
Louis’ eyes dart around looking for the London Phil pamphlet, and when he finds it he puts it in the middle of the table where both of them can look at it, and they realize just how nervous he is.
Zayn tries to break the tension he feels in the room. “Have you gotten your piece yet? Like, your own copy?”
Louis shakes his head.
“You should go get it,” says Niall, throwing him his car keys. Louis shakes his head. He doesn’t want to have to leave and go ask someone for his piece.
Niall throws Zayn a glance and Louis gets up from the table. He walks to his room and shuts his door and sits down on his bed and puts his face in his hands. He hears footsteps and the unmistakable daddy-like talking of Zayn and Niall outside his bedroom door. After a few moments of hushed tones there’s a knock on his door. “Lou, buddy? Can Niall and I come in?”
Louis bounces once on his squeaky bed, which came to signify yes. Niall and Zayn enter the room and shut the door and flank him on his sides, wrapping their arms around him and kissing his cheeks. “What’s up buddy? What’s making you feel down?” Louis sometimes wonders if Zayn wanted to be a child therapist, because the way Zayn tries to get things out of him is very elementary. He shrugs.
“Is it your performance? You nervous?” Niall asks, rubbing a hand up and down Louis’ small back just the way he likes it.
Louis nods. "Nervous as fuck."
He feels Niall twitch at hearing his voice; it really isn't a normal thing for Louis to speak at all. Louis smiles.
"You shouldn't be, Lou," Zayn says. "You're brilliant at what you do."
Louis shrugs and he feels Zayn's arm moving to hit Niall. He hears Liam shout from the other room.
"For fuck's sake Zayn are you coming?"
Zayn sighs. "In a minute, Li!"
"We know you'll do great," Niall says. "Always do."
Louis shrugs again. In his head he's thinking, I'll do shit I'll fuck up so badly I'll faint I'll fall of the stage I'll play F sharp instead of F natural my vibrato will be disgusting I'll break a string I'll over tune I'll under tune I'm going to fail.
Niall hands him a black card, pats him on the back, and leaves him, presumably to make sure Liam and Zayn don’t fuck on his favorite chair.
Park Records and Music
Open from 9 to 21
Nicholas Grimshaw
+445556749
He stares a while at the card. He wasn’t expecting to actually have to go and buy it from a person. He was hoping he could order it online.
He slips out of the flat unnoticed, throwing his keys into the air and catching them repeatedly. He hums a measure from his piece and throws a meek smile at a passerby.
He reaches the store just before it closes. It looks dingy. It’s a small, square, brick building with mucky windows and a big sign in the window that says ‘ENTIRE STORE 50% OFF’. He feels entirely too non-hipster to be walking into this shop, but, oh well.
He enters and a bell sounds above his head, making him flinch. There’s no one at the counter and it smells heavily of drugs and stale piss, but. If Niall gave it to him, it’s probably good. The boy has a good sense of knowing the difference between a good place for music and a shit one. Price wise, anyway.
He searches for the classical section and amazingly finds one. He runs his fingers over the dusty untouched folders until he comes upon Bach, Johann Sebastian. He then searches until he finds Partitia in D Minor for Violinist. He picks it out carefully and, really, for a shitty place it’s shoved into, it’s in fantastic condition. He thumbs through it quickly making sure all the parts are there and then closes the folder with a puff of dust.
He’s startled to pieces when a voice sounds. “Find what you’re looking for?”
He turns to his right where the voice came from and is met with a boy not much younger than him. He’s got a pink scarf holding his hair back and grass-green eyes, and a dimple that he wants to poke for some odd reason. He’s in a Ramones t-shirt, and two necklaces are hanging off of his neck — a cross and a paper airplane. He notices the tattoos all along his left arm and smiles a little because some of them are pretty ridiculous. They remind him of his own that are covered up by a jumper and he wants to put their arms together and see how their tattoos weirdly match up. He’s wearing jeans that look like they’ve been surgically attached to him and Louis wonders how hard it is to get them off when they’re wet. He’s wearing scuffed boots that could probably be donated by now, and he’s standing with his hands behind his back and he’s leaning slightly to the right as if he doesn’t know he’s doing it. And he’s been smiling the whole time Louis has been picking him apart.
Louis nods and holds up his piece. The boy steps forward and takes the piece from him, flipping through it. “My grandpa played this for me on his violin once. Sounds sick,” he says, giving it back to Louis with a grin. “I’m Harry,” he says, holding out his hand.
Louis shakes his in return and Harry looks puzzled when Louis doesn’t give his name but shrugs it off with another award winning smile.
“I’m really from Holmes Chapel, but I go to uni here and I’m finishing up my first year in culinary,” he says as if he’s filling out a dating website application. “Where’re you from?” He looks back at Louis as they go to the register.
Louis shrugs. “You don’t know?” Harry asks.
Louis shakes his head and furrows his brows. Harry’s forcing him to talk and he feels like he’s going to vomit. “Doncaster.”
“Ohhhhhh, a Rover!” Harry says, smiling as he takes the piece from Louis once again and rings it up with a dusty computer. “I have a few friends in my culinary classes from there. Sick mates. You’d like them.”
Louis wants to yell how the fuck do you know who I’d like? but he doesn’t. Harry chuckles.
“So what’s your deal, Doncaster? Why don’t you speak?”
Louis shrugs. “Louis.”
Harry nods with raised eyebrows. “Nice name,” he says. His eyes flit to the computer screen. “Thirty-two pounds eight, please.”
Louis digs in his pockets until he finds the (almost) correct amount of money — he’s short three whole pounds. He sighs.
Harry counts out the money on the counter, frowns, looks up at Louis, and then digs in his pockets (how does he even fit anything in there?) and puts the last three notes on the counter. “Don’t tell my boss,” he says, smiling.
“I owe you,” Louis says. Harry seems to melt a little, but maybe Louis is just worn out from playing all day.
“It’s alright, mate,” he says, pulling his receipt off the machine and handing it to him. “In exchange for something, though.”
Louis raises his eyebrows and nods. He waits for Harry to speak again.
“Come for a cup of coffee with me? Like, not a date thing, but, like… I don’t know. You’re just interesting.”
And for once, Louis nods. Harry’s face positively lights up. "Great! D'you want me to pick you up?"
Louis thinks for a minute. For one thing, if a boy this cute shows up at the door Zayn and Liam and Niall will be worried for his safety. But, if a boy this cute shows up at the door Zayn and Liam and Niall will all sigh with relief because Louis finally has a social life thank god we can have that threesome now.
Louis nods again and, as if Harry's known him for years, he slides a pad of paper across the desk and smiles. Louis writes his address and apartment number and his phone number just in case. Harry takes the pen back and smiles down at Louis' handwriting and takes out his phone and types something. Louis' phone vibrates in his pocket. "Just in case," Harry says, winking. "So tomorrow, like 6?"
Louis smiles and nods at first, but then frowns and shakes his head. He takes the pen back and flips to a blank page of the notepad. With his messy scrawl he writes:
performing w the london phil and i rehearse my piece on fridays till seven.
Harry looks down and frowns. "Well, coffee really is for the morning, so. What time in the morning?"
Louis thinks. seven, he writes. Harry smiles and nods, and then Louis turns and leaves with a wave.
He has a date. Sort of. The boys are gonna be so proud of him.
He drives as fast as his shitty car will let him and at the light near his house he sets an alarm on his phone for 6AM to give him time to shower and get dressed and fret over everything about himself.
He stumbles into the flat and — he wishes Liam and Zayn would get a fucking room. This is the ninth time he's seen Liam's ass in a month and he'd much rather not see Zayn's cock in it.
They turn when the door opens and Liam literally slides off of Zayn's lap and throws a blanket over the both of them and Louis knows he's going to have to get that blanket and the couch cleaned again.
"Louis! Shit... we thought — we thought you'd be gone... shit," Zayn stumbles. Louis just smiles and walks with his hands behind his back past them to where he hopes Niall is sitting clothed on his bed because he doesn't want to see that again.
Thankfully he is and when Louis walks in bright and smiling Niall fakes sunlight and puts his hand out in front of his face and squints as if to block Louis' rays. "What's got you so happy, Tommo?"
Louis smiles and sits down on their shared bed (it was agreed when the three of them moved in that since there were two beds that Zayn would get his own since he has Liam and Niall and Louis would share) and bounces. Niall smiles as Louis pulls out his phone and types a message to Niall.
i've got an un-date.
He shows it to the blonde and his eyes widen and he looks up at Louis and flashes one of his newly-straightened-teeth smiles. "That's fantastic Tommo! Who's the guy?"
Louis smiles again and leans over to tap his messages to see the text Harry sent him in the store.
From: harry music boy: cant wait for coffeeeeee tomorrow! byos :) also, can't make it to pick you up, hope you don't mind :)
Niall smiles and claps him on the back. "Knew you'd grab a good one, mate."
Louis sneaks a glance on his piece lying on the floor where he threw it carelessly when he walked in. He wants to play it for Harry.
And then it occurs to him that he's never played his violin in front of his friends, really. He'll save it for a rainy day.
It always rains in London.
"What's byos?"
Louis looks at the message.
byos :)
He thinks for a moment before he comes up with something and writes it out for Niall on the screen.
bring your own sugar
Niall laughs, grand and loud. He even slaps his knee as if it’s the funniest thing he's ever fucking heard.
That's something he loves about Niall. Niall doesn't push him. He's heard Louis speak and cry and scream and even orgasm but that was a onetime thing. Sort of. But he loves Niall because even though Louis doesn't make him laugh using his voice, Niall still treats him like he's told him the world’s funniest joke.
"Mate, you manage to bag the weirdest blokes," Niall says, still laughing. Louis smiles again and crawls up to Niall to cuddle with him. When his arm is wrapped around Louis' shoulders it’s finally quiet and the obscene noises from the living room permeate the silence. Niall snorts.
"Remember when that was us?" Niall asks, stroking his fingers up and down Louis' spine. Of course he remembers.
Their second year of high school together they were friends with benefits because neither of them could get a decent shag on or off campus. So when Niall suggested a no-strings-attached relationship to the quiet older boy — well. There really were no strings attached — if one of them was horny they'd find an empty room or closet or private space and Niall would suck Louis off and vice versa and Niall would beg to top and Louis would never grant him the permission because he loved the way Niall looked being fucked into.
And the few times they did it on that very same couch Zayn and Liam are on, Zayn and Liam had a sit-down with them and told them they couldn't. Bloody hypocrites.
"That was great," Niall says, rubbing his cheek on Louis' feathery hair. "So easy."
And since they ended it neither of them has gotten laid. Go figure.
Louis nods in agreement and moves to rest his head on Niall's lap. "Miss it."
Niall nods and pets his hair. "Yeah. But you've got a date, Lou! That's awesome!" Louis nods. "Better go open yourself up. He sounds like a total top." Louis laughs silently and shakes his head. Harry seems too clumsy to even lube himself properly.
They hear a shout and they both know then that Zayn and Liam are done — thank god — and that they can go into the living room and watch the Derby match, because Niall has gotten him hooked on it and he loves it even though he's a Donny fan at heart. "Go watch?" Niall asks. Louis nods in his lap and he desperately ignores Niall's slightly hard cock against his ear. He swats it and Niall jerks. "You can't blame me, Tommo. I've missed you down there." This time Louis laughs and maybe he should blow someone before he's roped into Harry.
He doesn't blow Niall though, just teases him terribly with his palms and cheek and nose until Louis feels him jerk again and a wet stain forms on the boys' briefs. "You absolute fucker," Niall says laughing.
They get off the bed and find Zayn and Liam cuddled under a blanket in the corner of the couch where Louis had found them on. They look up at the boys entering the room and Niall says, "Tommo's got a date!"
Zayn's face lights up with something like awe while Liam's is ecstatic. "That's fantastic, Lou! Who with?"
Niall, bless the lad, answers for him. "Picked up the sucker at the music store an hour ago. They're going for coffee."
Louis hands Niall his phone with a message typed in.
i ddnt have £3 for the piece so he payed out of pocket in exchange for coffee tomorrow mrning
Niall smiles and reads it out to Liam and Zayn. They smile after its read and Louis blushes wildly. "Maybe he'll be short £3 and ask for a blowjob," Niall says.
They sit down on the couch and Louis feels a little uncomfortable thinking about Harry naked. Judging by his lanky arms and legs and long torso he must be beautiful — but Louis doesn't think he'll ever get there anyway. He's a quiet, short, wimpy guy who can't even get measure 27 of the second movement of his piece right. He's right trash, he is.
He feels Niall's arm snake around his hips and pull him into his lap and the four of them watch Derby together until it’s late and Zayn's hungry and Liam should get to his night pre-med class and Louis' ear hurts from Niall screaming in it.
When Liam's gone Louis is the center of attention again and he kind of loves it and kind of hates it. Zayn heats up leftover mac-n-cheese and they watch Louis eat to make sure he does because he went down that road in his third year of uni and the rehab cost Zayn most of his tuition for the year (which Louis paid off for him with his own funds). But Louis eats now — doesn't know why he stopped, food’s fucking awesome — and Niall and Zayn are still worried because Louis is their older baby and they love him to death.
It's a little weird that they make him shower with the door open, but Louis deals.
He falls asleep with Niall in their bed tuning his guitar on his side of the bed and then playing some version of a Kelly Clarkson song as a lullaby.
***
Louis' alarm goes off and — what the fuck? Why is he up this —
Oh. His not-date with Harry. Right.
He smiles widely and tries not to wake Niall as he stumbles out of bed excitedly and starts the shower. He doesn't miss a single spot as he washes and uses Zayn's apple shampoo to make sure he smells extra good in the event Harry's a weirdo and wants to smell Louis' hair.
It takes him a whole half hour to get dressed and by then he's woken Niall to help and although the younger boy is cranky he's still laughing as Louis frets about what kind of underwear he should wear.
He decides on superman briefs because he's a 21 year old man performing with the London Philharmonic soon and he still owns superman pants.
Eventually Niall helps him settle on a pair of tight skinny jeans of Niall's and his 'LOVE WILL TEAR US APART' shirt that shows off his tattoos. He smiles in the mirror as Niall, who's mothering him by now, plays with his hair and musses it out of its fringe. "I think you're good, Tommo."
Louis smiles into the mirror and squeezes Niall's wrist as a thank you. Niall nods a silent you're welcome.
He grabs his keys off of his night table and checks his phone for the address Harry texted him. It's at a coffee shop a few blocks from his flat so he decides, what the hell. He leaves his keys on the counter and walks to the coffee shop, arriving at 7:05. (He was never very good with time).
He walks into the cafe and immediately spots Harry sitting in the corner. He’s wearing similar black jeans to Louis' except Harry’s are ripped and could use a washing. He has on a white t-shirt and those necklaces from yesterday.
He sits down across from Harry who looks up from his folded hands and smiles like he’s just heard he’s pregnant or something. “Hiii,” he says.
Louis waves and smiles and he can see in Harry’s face just the tiniest flash of hurt because it wasn’t a genuine ‘hi’ back. But he’s over it, Louis can see. Harry’s a big boy. “Sleep well?” Harry asks. Louis nods and pulls out his phone because in order to have a semi-proper conversation he’s going to have to talk somehow. He types out:
you?
Harry smiles. “Slept pretty well, yeah. I was all nervous for today. For our not-date,” Harry says. Louis smiles back and taps his fingers on the table as a waitress comes over to the table.
“Have you decided, Harry?” She asks. Oh, so she knows him.
“Yeah, can I have my usual?” He says to her. Her nametag reads ‘Caroline’. She nods and smiles. “And you?” She asks Louis.
Louis hasn’t even looked at the menu yet so he just shrugs and Harry, bless the boy, says, “He’ll have what I’m having. But make it ham.”
Caroline nods and scribbles and throws Louis a funny look but walks away without asking.
“I didn’t realise you hadn’t looked at the menu, sorry,” Harry says, looking truly apologetic as if he’s apologising that the condom broke.
Louis needs to get away from sexual references. Really. He needs a lay.
Louis smiles and shakes his head, and then he notices that Harry’s starting at him. He types.
what?
Harry reads the message and shrugs, smiling. Louis wonders if his face ever gets tired or if his dimples ever pop. “Nothing. I just like you. Like looking at you. You’re cute. You’re mysterious,” he says.
m not mysterious. just quiet
“Well you’re mysterious because you’re quiet,” Harry says. It occurs to Louis they’re out for coffee and not actually drinking any.
shouldnt we get coffee on a coffee date?
not date?
Harry shrugs. “Did you BYOS?”
Louis shakes his head. “It’s good, I’ve got extra,” Harry says, pulling out seven packets of sugar and setting them on the table. “I’ll get coffee. Cream?” Louis nods and holds his fingers apart a little. “A little bit? Got it.”
Harry comes back with two cups of coffee (his hands are massive) and sets them on the table. He lets Louis take the sugar first and he gets self conscious and only uses one even though he usually uses three. “You can use more, you know,” Harry says, laughing as he takes only two sugars for his own. “I brought an ample supply.”
Louis smiles a little and takes the last two he needs and dumps them in and swirls it around with the stir stick Harry hands him. They drink coffee and talk-type until the food comes and Louis has never actually seen anyone inhale a pastrami and egg sandwich except for Niall, but he’s found another person who can do it, who looks attractive doing it.
There’s a pull in his gut and he’s angry about it because finally Zayn and Niall aren’t up my arse I don’t have to eat but he’s over that, it’s in the past, and he takes a big ham and egg filled bite and feels hot egg stream down his chin and he laughs.
And then Harry drops the bomb. “Can I come listen to you play? I know that piece is hard and I wanna hear you totally crush it.”
Louis freezes where he’s about to take another bite and sets down his sandwich. He shakes his head. Harry looks puzzled and maybe a bit sad. “Why not?”
i suck
“With a piece like that you can’t,” Harry says.
you’ll distract me with your cuteness. performing with the phil in june
Harry smiles because he was just called cute and Louis doesn’t even know where that comes from but oh well. “You’re playing with the London Phil? You liar. You total liar. You’re fucking with me,” he says, sitting back and smiling.
i’ll call my mates. you can ask them.
“Do it,” Harry says. He sends Niall a quick text that it’s Harry who's going to answer the phone and then dials Niall’s number. Harry glances quickly at the caller id and then holds the phone to his ear, laughing when Niall answers. “Uh, hi, I’m Harry… Oh, he told you? Yeah, he’s just making me call because I don’t believe him… Wait, really? That’s sick… He won’t let me listen… Yeah, I can see that… Right, right… Well nice talking to you, hopefully we’ll meet soon… Yeah nice talking to you Neil… Oh sorry, Niall… Bye.” He hands Louis his phone and smiles. “So. The London Phil. That’s pretty sick. And I’d love to hear you play.”
Louis would love for Harry to hear him play as well but he’s never let anyone listen to him play solo, save Mr. Baron and the lady who wanted him to play for the Phil in the first place. And once or twice Niall when he didn’t know Niall was there and he didn’t blow him for two whole weeks. (Which wreaked havoc on Niall who swore he’d never do it again). He wants so badly for Harry to listen, but he knows he’ll fuck up and he can’t —
“How about I come with you and sit with you, and if you really don’t want me there I’ll leave? I’ll wait outside and then we can, like, go for a movie or something.”
Louis thinks maybe Harry is being incredibly assertive and quick about trying to get Louis into his pants but he really has no complaints because Harry’s fucking attractive and he’d love the pleasure of fucking him, really.
He needs a lay so bad.
So Louis nods only because he can tell Harry to leave if he needs to.
They finish up and Harry pays lays out bills — £3 short — and smiles. “Here’s where you lay out the last three notes and we call it even.”
Louis does as he’s told and lays out the final three pounds on the table and they’re finally even. He smiles.
***
So it turns out bringing Harry back to the flat just so he could get his piece was a terrible idea and he should know better that on a Tuesday morning Zayn has classes at 5PM and Liam’s don’t start till night and he should know they never get a damn room like they should.
So when Louis and Harry walk in on them on the couch, well.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Louis shouts. All of the people in the room, including Harry behind him, look at him in shock and he quickly ducks his head down. He feels Harry’s eyes on his back in a great attempt not to look at Liam and Zayn.
“I’m Harry,” he says, and Louis turns and sees his head ducked down and his eyes squeezed shut. Louis reaches out and squeezes his wrist and hopes he knows it means stay here while I get my music. He shakes his head and glares as he walks past the sweaty people on his couch and grabs his music off of the floor where he left it. He half expects Niall to be sleeping, but it looks as if he actually got up and went to his classes, so good on him.
Louis shoos Harry out of their flat and once they're out Harry lets out a long breath and braces himself against the wall. “Jesus,” he says. His hand is dramatically clutched to his heart. “I feel so sorry for you. Does that happen often?” Harry lifts his head to look at Louis. Louis nods.
Harry stands up straight and stretches. Louis definitely does not look at the strip of skin that exposes itself when Harry’s shirt rides up. He definitely does not.
“So, head over to wherever the hell you rehearse?” Harry asks once he’s successfully cracked and popped every single bone in his body. Louis nods.
He goes for his keys and realises, oh, they’re on the counter back in the flat. He sighs and takes out his phone.
no keys.
Harry smiles after he reads it. This boy smiles so fucking much. “I drove to the cafe. We can take my car. Just direct me.”
They walk back to the cafe and get into Harry’s car. It’s pretty nice, minus the condom wrapper in the front seat that Harry tosses out of the window with a blush on his face.
kinky much?
“It’s not what you think!” Harry says, sputtering and going absolutely tomato red. Louis laughs. “You have a nice laugh," Harry says.
just avoiding your little fiasco in the backseat are you, Harry?
Harry smiles and shakes his head as he gets to a light. “I’m really not. I’m innocent, I swear. These seats have never seen any stains except my own.” And then Harry realises what he’s just said and blushes furiously and Louis laughs, hitting his head against the dashboard. “Prick.”
really though, care to explain?
“I opened it up because my mate Nick had just told me if I hold a condom out the window it’ll catch wind and get, like, really big, and it did. Like, while we were driving there was a giant condom flowing out of the window,” he says, smiling. “It was mad.”
Louis remembers the time he did that with Niall and how funny it was and all the small dick jokes Niall made about him after that. He smiles along with Harry as they pull up to the school. They get out and the wind bites at his neck and he shivers, and prays Harry doesn’t notice because Harry’s been moving really fast with Louis and he doesn’t want to have to, like, go home and change his pants because Harry thought it was okay to wrap his arms around him and then jerk him off or something.
But he’d like that, mind you.
They enter the school, Louis with his violin and Harry holding his piece. He gives a wave to Mr. Baron who looks at Harry suspiciously but knows better than to ask and just returns to his desk work.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Harry asks, setting Louis’ piece on a stand and looking around. It’s really not that grand — it’s the school’s version of a practice room. There are several of them on the grounds — ones for string, brass, wind, percussion, and vocal, all with different interiors that best amplify the sound. And just to Louis’ luck, the string rooms are the smallest and hottest, so he’s cramped in here with an attractive male and he’s going to develop sweat stains very soon. But he nods.
“It’s pretty sick in here,” Harry says. And before Louis is aware of it Harry’s belting out a song by the Fray and — oh — he has a really nice voice. Louis might be swaying a little unintentionally. He clears his throat. “Sorry,” Harry says. “Just wanted to test it.”
theres diff rooms for vox, brass wind string and percussion, harold
Harry nods.
whats your last name?
Maybe it’s a little forward but he has a sickening urge to call Harry by his last name. Thankfully all Harry does is crack a smile before he answers. “Styles. You?”
tomlinson
“Sounds very classical,” Harry says, taking a seat in the only chair in the tiny room. “You don’t need this, right?”
Louis shakes his head. He’ll be standing at the Phil anyway. And then he starts getting nervous. God what if I fuck up what if he thinks I suck what if what if what if?
He shakes himself out of his thoughts and Harry's watching him cautiously. "I can leave, Louis."
Louis closes his eyes and wills himself to shake his head —
He nods. He hears Harry sigh a little and then the door opens and shuts and he hears Harry slide down against it.
He sighs with relief and he picks up his violin. He tunes it by ear and then rosins his bow for good measure, and for the first time in a while, plays through the whole piece with no fuck-ups. He's incredibly proud and when he opens the door to get Harry he stumbles into the room ear first. Louis says nothing.
"You're not mad are you?" Harry asks, a nervous blush on his cheekbones. Louis squeezes his eyes shut. I should be mad. Harry shouldn't have listened. He listened. I'm over it.
He shakes his head. And then he pats the chair and shuts the door. Harry watches in awe as Louis sets his violin under his chin and begins playing the third movement — his favorite.
And when he's done Harry claps. He fucking claps like Louis is the best violinist he's ever heard. Maybe Harry hasn't heard Joshua Bell.
"Louis," he starts, standing, towering over Louis, "that was fucking incredible. I'm fucking blown away."
Louis almost opens his mouth and says, Really? Cos you're standing right here. But he doesn't. He refrains. "I want to hear the whole piece."
Louis immediately begins to violently shake his head and Harry grabs his biceps to stable him. "When you're ready."
When he's ready. He knows Harry means more than just the music.
***
"I just... He's so lovely..."
Louis is listening to Harry chat with Niall, Liam, and Zayn. All five of them have kind of become friends over the past few weeks and Harry's forgiven Zayn and Liam for scarring his brain forever.
The others don't currently know Louis is awake. They think he's still sleeping in his room. (He was incredibly surprised that Harry didn't flip when he found out Louis shares a bed with Niall. Bless the boy.)
"We know, Harry," Niall says. "He just doesn't talk."
"And you don't know why?"
"No," Zayn says, and Louis can smell cigarette smoke wafting into the hallway. "He won't tell us. Any of us. I don't even think he's told his mum."
"We should, like, get him counseling. Would that help?"
"We've tried," Liam says, and Louis cringes at the memory. "It only helped him eat. He was in a hospital for a few months and he still wasn't talking so we took him out and just let him be."
Just leave it to his friends to spill his entire life story to the boy he's had coffee with three times, really.
"Oh," Harry says. "I just wish I knew what was wrong."
"We all do, mate," Niall says. "We were hoping maybe he'd trust you enough to tell you. He really likes you, mate."
Louis thinks he can hear Harry smile and blush. "Really?"
"He won't shut up about you. So to speak," Liam says. "Or so not to speak, I guess." They laugh.
Louis makes his way back to his bed because he isn't laughing and he's rather angry Niall said that.
Maybe he'll put glue in his sneakers again.
He climbs back into bed and stares at the ceiling until he hears heavy footsteps coming towards his room, and then he quickly shuts his eyes and turns away from the door. “Lou?”
The new nickname Harry’s given him makes him shudder in the bed and — oh no — he feels the bed behind him sink with weight and —
“Y’alright?” Harry asks, not daring to touch him. Thank god.
Louis turns over and nods, feigning a just-woke-up look of squinty eyes adjusting to the brightness of a room
“Oh,” Harry says, “sorry.”
“S alright,” Louis says, turning to face Harry. God, he’s beautiful. “M awake now.”
Harry smiles. Louis loves that about Harry. His smile. He could’ve just fallen and broken his tailbone and someone could do something cute or dumb and he’d smile. It’s really truly incredible. A little sickening, how much he smiles, but incredible.
For the past few weeks Louis has been denying his 'love' for Harry. Ever since that day at the music store five weeks ago he’s wanted more and more to grab Harry’s face and kiss him senseless. And ever since that day five weeks ago he’s wanted more and more to push him out of his life forever because he knows if he falls in love with Harry he’ll break his heart. Too bad he’s already in love.
He doesn’t notice Harry’s layed down next to him until their faces are inches apart and he can smell pancakes in Harry’s breath. Which should really be revolting but Louis finds it kind of adorable and he kind of wants to throw himself into the Thames. “Hi,” Harry says.
It occurs to him that he's expecting Louis to talk some more. He hadn't even realised he'd spoken at all. It had felt so easy and natural. He feels like vomiting.
Louis smiles in response and reaches behind him for his phone only to have his heart skip a beat because it’s missing. He looks back to Harry in alarm and he’s got a smirk on his face.
“Talk to me,” he says. “I wanna hear your voice.”
And Louis freezes up. He starts to slowly shake his head and he thinks he feels his hands shaking so he fists them up in the sheets and he feels tears prickle behind his eyes.
He watches as Harry's eyes widen and he realises what he may have done. "Shit," he says. "I'm sorry — shit Lou — oh fuck."
Louis makes grabby hands for his phone and Harry immediately surrenders it to him.
its alright, h. jst dont do it again
He turns the screen to Harry and Harry reads it and nods quickly. "Lou I'm so, so fucking sorry."
Louis smiles meekly and nods. He rubs Harry's side and it's Harry who freezes this time. And Louis realises — oh.
Louis scoots away until he's far enough that he's no longer touching Harry and he can't even smell him anymore.
Harry frowns and reaches across to place a hand on Louis' shoulder. And as much as Louis wants to lean into the touch and snuggle into his chest, he shrinks away and gets out of bed.
going to go practice for the phil, u can come if u want.
Harry nods with a sad smile and turns away as Louis pulls on jeans and a tshirt. "Ready? Am I driving?"
Louis nods and smiles and thank god Harry's over what just happened.
It's April now, only two more months until Louis plays. With Harry in the room, he plays even better. He rarely messes up and he almost always makes it through the whole piece with minimal interruptions from Harry applauding him.
He finally finishes around midday and Harry gives him a big round of applause and hugs him. "So good, Lou."
"Thanks," Louis says. He feels Harry flinch at his voice. Harry pulls back and holds him at an arm’s length.
"You have such a lovely voice," he says, rather sadly. "Have you ever sang?"
Louis takes his phone out of his pocket.
sang in the school choir when i was little. wsnt very good.
Harry smiles. "I'm sure you were fantastic." Louis blushes.
only thing i culd sing well was 'look after you' by the fray. s on youtube.
Harry lights up. "Really? Can I listen?" Louis shrugs.
if u want. louistomlinson07
He watches Harry type it into YouTube on his phone and watches the smile cross his face and his eyes widen. "Lou, this has over 15 thousand views."
Louis blushes and smiles. He tries really hard not to listen to his voice — he hates it so much. But he can't help looking at Harry as he smiles wide and nods his head along with the audio and starts to mouth the words.
When it's over, Harry looks Louis right in the eyes with a dimpled smile. Louis looks away nervously. "That was incredible, really, Louis."
Louis smiles.
thanks :)
He feels Harry's eyes on him for a long time and tries not to notice when Harry's feet inch closer to his.
This isn't happening, he thinks. Don't move any closer.
As if Harry's reading his mind, he moves closer and Louis feels his hand lift his chin. He knows what’s coming, he wants it, he doesn't, he wants to feel Harry's lips on his and he wants to whack him over the head with is violin. He wants —
Harry's lips are on his and, as unromantic as it is, they're staring into each others' eyes. Louis blinks and Harry blinks and Harry starts laughing against his mouth and Louis pulls back as fast as he can.
"Fuck," Harry says, running his fingers over his red lips. Louis wants to do the same but he refrains in favour of keeping Harry on his lips. But he nods in agreement. "Sorry, I kinda just... I don't know. Just really wanted to, I guess. Sorry."
dont apologise. i liked it
Harry smiles. "Yeah? Would you do it again?" Louis thinks. He thinks yes, I would do that again in a heartbeat. And —
He shakes his head. Harry's face falls in disappointment. "You — you wouldn't?"
Louis sighs.
you'll break my heart like everyone else.
Harry's eyes go soft. "I'd never —"
He's interrupted by a knock on the door and Mr. Baron enters the room. "Oh, sorry. Is this a bad time?"
Louis shakes his head. "I'll go," Harry says. He turns to leave.
"Stay," Louis says. "Listen."
Harry turns around and looks at the teacher, who shrugs. "I just want to hear him. Feel free to stay."
So Harry does and Louis looks up at him every few measures as he plays for Mr. Baron and aces it. He gets through the whole piece without messing up and he sucks in the praise he gets from Mr. Baron. "Louis," he says, "fantastic job. Excellent. You're almost ready to play with the Phil."
Harry stays and listens as Mr. Baron goes over some minor tweakings with Louis and then listens to him fix them. It's around three in the afternoon when he's finished and he gives Louis a look that he can't ignore.
"Lunch?" Harry asks as Louis packs up his violin. Louis nods, turning his head to smile at the boy. "Listen, about before," Harry starts. Louis interrupts him with a hand as he types on his phone.
just forget about it. didnt change anything. still best friends , right?
Harry reads it and a smile makes its way onto his face and he nods. "Best friends who've know each other for, like, five weeks."
six
"Six," Harry corrects, smiling. He ruffles Louis' hair as they walk out together and maybe it should be weird but Louis liked the way Harry's fingers felt in his hair.
They end up at the café where they first had coffee, and Harry orders them their now-usuals. As Harry takes a bite into his sandwich, Louis braces himself. "It was nice," he says. Harry looks at him, eyes wide and egg dribbling down his chin. "The kiss? It was nice. I liked it. And I'd do it again." And once he's finished he watches Harry cough roughly and spit his food out into a napkin. Louis takes a big bite and lets out a big breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in.
Harry sits staring at him for a long while while Louis chews and swallows and bites until he's finished. He smiles at Harry who's still staring at him. Louis pulls out his phone.
alright there?
Harry reads it and nods, though it seems forced. “I’ve… I’ve never really heard you talk that much, that’s all.”
Louis nods. He’s right. Louis thinks he can safely say that’s the most he’s talked in a while.
didn’t mean to scare you. you just like my voice soooooo much :)
Harry reads it and smiles. “I really want to kiss you again.” Louis sees the want in his eyes and he wishes so badly that he wanted to, too. He does, mind you, but he’s already in deep enough.
me too. but i’m in to deep
And after Harry’s read it he’s singing lines from ‘In Too Deep’ by Sum 41.
***
“So, Louis,” says Dr. May, “I’ve been told you’re subject to Selective Mutism.”
Louis nods as if he understands. He doesn’t. He’s just quiet. Not mute.
“You’re a strange one, you know,” he says, looking at Louis.
Dr. May’s office is incredibly welcoming for a psychologist, really. It has light pink walls and has a fish tank in the corner. There are two couches and six pillows that are all plush and smell like roses. The first thing Dr. May said when Louis entered was, “Please, get comfortable, Mr. Tomlinson. Take off your shoes, socks, put your feet up. Do whatever.”
“You’ve been mute for how long now?”
Louis counts on his fingers and holds up five. “So you started when you were sixteen?” Louis nods. “Unusual. Usually things like this come out in childhood. Have you any idea why it came out so late?”
Louis nods his head but keeps his mouth completely shut. He doesn’t trust this man one bit. Dr. May clears his throat. “Let me read you the DSM definition of Selective Mutism, okay?” Louis nods. “‘Selective mutism is an anxiety disorder in which a person who is normally capable of speech does not speak in specific situations or to specific people.’ Does that sound like you?”
Louis leans back on the couch and thinks. Does not speak in specific situations or to specific people. He watches as Dr. May hands him a pad and paper. “Go ahead. You can write. I won’t make you speak if you don’t want to.”
I don’t really speak much to anyone. The longest sentence I’ve said in the past was probably seventeen words. I don’t talk much to my friends and especially not around people I don’t know.
He hands the pad back to the psychologist and waits as he reads it. Dr. May nods every few words and chews his pen in his mouth. He’s fairly young — he’s got a great head of hair, glasses, and a bright smile. He has a picture of his wife and one young son on his desk and it makes Louis smile.
“Do you have problems making new friends?” He asks, handing the pad and pen back.
As much trouble as a quiet person can have, I guess.
“Who was the last friend you made? How long ago?”
At this Louis smiles.
Harry. Seven weeks ago. The guy who walked in here wearing a scarf on his head.
“And those other boys?”
Met them when I was younger.
Dr. May nods and hums. “Would you consider yourself shy?”
No. Maybe. In the recent years, yeah, I guess. But before I was sixteen, no.
Louis’ hand is beginning to cramp and he peers at the clock to see he only has five minutes left in the office. Dr. May notices him looking and nods to himself. “I have a proposal.”
Louis nods.
“Can we make a deal? Choose a friend of yours, one you see every day.”
Harry.
“Okay. So, I would like you, over the course of this week, up until our next meeting, to try, as hard as you can, to talk to him, okay? I know you can do it. You seemed very comfortable with him when you walked in together. Can you do that? You don’t have to use your voice for everything, but make it a point to try to talk, just a little, okay?”
Louis feels like he’s going to throw up, but he nods.
“One last question?”
Lay it on me.
Dr. May smiles. "Will you tell me what caused you to become mute?”
***
2008
“Louis? Are you — ”
“Shh! Fizzy, you can’t just ask him that!” Lottie said, braiding her sisters’ hair in the front hall as Louis stands in front of the bigger one in the front closet. “But since we’re on the topic, are you going to — ”
“None of your business, ladies,” he said, giving his hair a good fluff and then peering out the window to see if the bus had come. “But yeah. Niall and Zayn have helped. It’s, like, not a big show. Just kind of like a little ‘Louis Tomlinson is Gay’ sign hanging in the boys changing rooms. Possible humiliation,” he said.
Lottie and Fizzy giggled and hugged his brother as he set off towards school.
Of course the sign wasn't real. He kind of just told people, "Oh, by the way, I'm gay." He slipped it in casually and had a general concensus of 'I knew it!'s and 'Good for you, Louis!'s.
And, as he should have realised, humiliation was what he got as well.
After school a group of boys took it upon themselves to take him behind the school and hit him until he bled in all places he shouldn’t have bled from.
“Now you can’t have children — oh, wait — fags can’t have children anyway,” said one boy.
And it just continued like that, a kick to the crotch, a rude comment about topping or bottoming, another kick in the nuts — until his football coach realised he was missing and came to look for him.
Although the boys were suspended and the whole rest of the football team (surprisingly, really) accepted him, he made a vow to himself that he’d never speak again, because the last time he did, it ended so badly.
***
Present
His hand was beginning to cramp again from the writing, and he’d gone four minutes over, and he knew Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall were all waiting for him in the waiting room.
When he handed the pad over to Dr. May, he nodded and said, “We’ll talk about it next Thursday, okay? Remember our deal.”
He smiles as Niall and Zayn walk in to set up another appointment. He sits there nervously as Dr. May tells them why he's quiet. They don't say a thing and just hug him for a bit.
Harry's the first to greet him, with a big hug and a smacker on the cheek. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Lou. This is huge.”
He sees Zayn and Liam smiling at him and Niall giving him a massive thumbs up and he smiles.
The only thing he really hates (besides having to get professional help again — albeit for a different problem entirely) is the talking. He has to talk to Harry. For real. Like, open his mouth, use his vocal chords, and form words.
Niall takes the boys out to dinner ‘just because’. They go to a Mexican restaurant because its Cinco De Mayo and Niall’s really into tradition, and he just really likes Mexican food.
It’s there that Louis gets nervous.
He’s sat next to Harry and everything’s going alright. The others are having a thrilling dinner conversation about how Niall found a buttplug between the couch cushions and how it scarred him for life.
And then he feels it.
He feels Harry’s pointer finger touch his knee. Just slightly. But he feels it. It moves in tiny, comforting circles. And he freezes up.
Niall notices in the middle of his story. “Lou? You okay?”
As soon as the attention is turned to him the finger leaves his knee and he relaxes, and nods. Niall gives him a puzzled look and continues his story, flickering his eyes at him every few minutes just as Zayn and Liam are.
Harry leans over and whispers in his ear. “Did I do that?” Louis nods and he feels Harry shiver. “Sorry.”
Louis is a massive twat. He really is. He needs an intervention.
He needs to figure out if he likes Harry that way or not. He doesn’t know. On one hand, Harry is a lovely, endearing, attractive boy, three years younger than him, smart, funny, has a job, can cook, a lovely, lovely boy. Louis wants to cuddle into his side and kiss him in public and talk to him and lay him down in bed and do unspeakable things to him. He wants to kiss all of his tattoos and memorise his body and run his hands through his curls when he wakes up in the morning. He wants to brush his teeth with him and shower with him and get dressed with him and do a load of coupley things with him that would normally make him sick.
Louis hasn’t ever had a proper relationship with a boy. In high school the year after he came out, he slept around a lot, and then him and Niall formed their no-strings-attatched relationship after a herpes scare at the school. Him and Niall got tested the same day but still used condoms and it ended Louis’ second year of university. He hasn’t really had a shag since then.
But on the other hand, he knows if he falls in love with Harry, he’ll go in way too deep and Harry will get sick of him and he’ll leave and break his heart and Louis just can’t deal with that. He’ll probably end up in rehab again or something. He’ll think down about himself and think it’s all his fault that he’s not handsome enough that he’s too quiet that he isn’t good in bed that he’s too fat that he’s —
“Louis,” Harry says, waving a hand in front of his face. “We thought we lost ya.”
Louis shakes his head and looks at the four sets of eyes staring at him. He looks over at Harry who has concern all over his face and — oh — his hand is on his knee now.
But Louis doesn’t freeze up.
And, god, he’s going to hate himself for this.
He turns his head, smiles at Harry, and leans over, and kisses him, soft and sweet, right on the mouth.
He pulls back and shuts his eyes and ducks his head. He feels Harry’s hand creep up his thigh and his breath comes faster until the hand moves and clutches Louis’ own instead. He looks up and there are four smiles beaming at him.
“Does this mean celebratory pints?” Niall asks cautiously.
Harry nods but Louis shakes his head. The four smiles turn into frowns and a “why not?” leaves one of them.
Louis takes out his phone.
there’s nothing. it’s nothing. just a kiss. that’s it.
He only watches Harry’s face as he reads it, and the boys face falls and his hand ungrasps Louis’ and retracts to his lap.
He’s getting death glares from Zayn, Niall and Liam and he just shrugs and puts his head down.
He did what he had to do.
***
Harry doesn’t contact him for a whole week.
Louis texts him and facebook messages him and even fucking emails him because the boys had a chat with him that he ‘probably broke Harry’s heart’. He doesn’t believe it, but he’s having Harry withdrawal.
harry, please, i need you.
harry
styles?
He even goes over to the music shop where Harry works but Harry's never on his shift when Louis is there.
It's been a week, four days, 3 hours, and 43 minutes (not that he's been counting) since he last talked to Harry. He'd seen Dr. May the day before and he'd said he needed to call Harry.
So he does. He dials the number and waits.
"You just gonna kiss and dump me again?" Harry asks as he answers.
Louis sighs. This is it. "Harry? Listen. I'm sorry. I'm really really really sorry. What I did was wrong and a total dick move, okay? I'm just... I'm just confused, is all. I — I've never cared for someone the way I care for you, I — " he freezes. Not because he's going to say it, but just because he's gotten nervous and he might pass out.
"You don't have to continue," Harry says, sounding exasperated. "I'm really proud of you."
As Louis takes deep breaths he manages to squeak out a, "Coffee?"
Harry laughs, bright and loud, and agrees. They hang up and Louis digs around for some advil or something because the lack of air has given him a headache and he still feels like he's going to hurl.
They meet each other at their usual table in the back corner of the café and order their usual sandwiches and they stare at each other quietly.
Harry's ordered his third coffee when he finally speaks. "So what are we?"
Louis looks up from his coffee and pulls out his phone. Harry looks a bit disappointed but he's done enough talking for the next eight years.
dunno
"Do you... like... fancy me?" Harry asks, swirling in his fourth packet of sugar and sniffling.
i mean... i guess ? i'm not good with, like, love
Harry smiles as he reads it. "I definitley got that notion."
twat
He smiles and reaches across to ruffle Louis' feathery hair. He wants to purr like a kitten with Harry's fingers on his scalp. Harry pulls back and looks at him seriously. "I really like you Lou," he says. "I want — fuck — I want to, like, be with you. I wanna wake up next to you and brush my teeth with you and shower with you and sleep with you — in both senses," he smiles, always one for being blunt, "and like — I just think you're such an amazing person." He stops and folds his hands in front of his coffee. "And I want you to get better."
The last part shakes Louis a little — he feels like curling into a ball and crying — but he smiles either way because Harry Styles is an awkward, clumsy, tattooed, and wonderful giant.
i dont know how i feel , still. im nervous youll realise what a fuckup i am and youll get bored of me and leave me
Harry sports a devistatingly sad look as he reads it. He gets up from the table and hugs Louis hard — possibly crushing Louis' tiny frame — but he doesn't care because Harry feels like home.
They walk back to Louis' place and have a movie marathon with a lovely accompanying soundtrack by Liam and Zayn.
(They're not sex addicts, they swear. Everyone just always happens to be home when they're fucking.)
***
It's near the end of May. Louis plays with the Philharmonic in thirteen days. And he's been endlessly shitting himself over it for weeks.
He has Harry — they're nothing still, just friends, but they cuddle and kiss sometimes and it makes Louis equal parts fuzzy and warm and sad.
He stays at the school up until midnight almost every day and he's seen Dr. May four times this week already, and his exams for biology are absolutley wrecking his brain. His boys are getting worried.
He's 'asleep' one night when he hears them talking.
"Aren't you at least a little worried, Harry?" Niall asks.
Harry probably shakes his head. "No. It's just his nerves. He'll be fine after its all over."
"Clearly you don't know Louis too well, no offence," Zayn says. Liam's left for the weekend to go see his parents and Zayn's been particularily grumpy.
"No offence taken. But I have no idea what you mean."
"D'you know why he's quiet?" Niall asks.
He wouldn't. He fucking would not do this to him.
"No," Harry says.
"D'you wanna? We were both there," Zayn says. "It was Dr. May who told us what it was, but we were there."
He assumes Harry nods because all of a sudden his biggest, most painful secret is being dished out in his living room while he's not there.
"Which is probably why he's having trouble with you, mate," Niall says when the story's finished. "Don't take it personally."
"Coming from the guy who fucked him for, like, three years," Zayn says, no doubt rolling his eyes.
But Niall's probably right, is the thing. He's probably exactly, 100% right about Louis — that his lack of wanting to be with Harry sprouts from the event in his life that made him quiet. Niall was easy — there was no love. He could do it. With Harry though — Harry's expecting love. He'll tell Niall that he should switch to a psychology major rather than sound engineering.
Louis doesn't zone back in until he hears Niall telling Harry how their no-strings-attatched relationship ended. "I can't believe that, though. Like, the only Louis I know is quiet and flinches when I touch him," Harry says, exasperated. "And now you're telling me of this loud — vocal — Louis? It's — I literally cannot believe you."
"It's true, man," Zayn says. "He used to be rambunctious and loud — "
Louis choses to walk in then and Zayn quickly changes the subject. " — Loud during sex, Liam is. Sorry about that, Ni."
Niall raises his eyebrows at the change of topic and Zayn flickers his eyes behind him, warning him that Louis is standing there.
He hands Zayn his phone.
thanks for telling harry you asshole
Niall reads it after him. "I thought he knew! I didn't expect to have to tell him!"
Harry looks down at his lap. "I'm sorry that happened to you," he says. "I had no idea."
"Yeah, well," Louis says, starting the kettle on the stove. "It's alright."
"It's not, Lou," he says. "That's a really shitty thing that happened to you."
Louis walks away from the kettle to get his phone from Niall.
drop it h
Harry frowns as he reads it but hands the phone back. Just for anything, so Harry knows they're still okay, Louis leans down and places a chaste kiss on Harry's lips as the kettle begins to whistle. He pulls away and Harry smiles.
"You guys are weird," Niall says. "I'm gonna shower."
"Don't drown," Zayn says.
"I'll try!" Niall shouts back as he shuts the door.
Louis laughs — and, oh — Harry's hands are on his waist. He wants so badly to pull away but that would put him on the stove or in Harry's chest. His unconcious mind wants to back into Harry's chest and let Harry's hands roam all over him. His concious mind wants to have his hand burned by the stove.
For once he chooses differently and leans back into Harry's strong, tattooed chest. He feels Harry's fingers tap against his waist and smiles as his tea cools on the counter.
He hears Zayn leave the room and then they're alone. And Louis wants to do something with Harry so, so badly, but he doesn't know if he can.
Harry turns him around so Louis' chin rests on his shoulder and rubs his back as they hug. "You mean a lot to me," Harry says.
Louis closes his eyes and rubs his chin against Harry's shoulder affectionately.
He might do this. He actually might have sex with Harry. "I don't wanna pressure you, Lou," he says, squeezing his hips and nudging his nose into his hair.
And Louis freaks out. He can't do it.
He shakes his head and Harry pulls back immediatley, but keeps his hands on Louis' hips. "Alright?"
Louis closes his eyes. "Not yet."
Harry's hands squeeze his hips and then drop. Louis opens his eyes and — Harry's still there, smiling at him. "It's okay, Lou. Just friends, yeah?"
He can see the pain in Harry's eyes but he smiles through it. Louis gives a weak smile. You're such a pussy, Louis, he thinks.
He hands Harry his phone.
more than friends ?
The smile that shows up on Harry's face is positively blinding and he scoops Louis into a bone-crushing hug. "Yeah? You mean it?"
Louis nods into Harry's chest and Niall walks out into the kitchen in nothing at all. They pull apart when he comes to get tea from Louis. "Way to ruin a lovely moment with your penis, mate," Harry says, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance.
"Least it's cute," Niall replies, and Louis fake gags into the kettle.
"Charming," Harry says, laughing.
And Louis finally thinks. He really, really thinks. He thinks about his relationship with Harry. Thinks about how it could actually work. Thinks about the fact that Harry might actually care about him. Thinks about talking to him, for a long time — telling him about his day and his job when he gets one. He wants to tell.
He grabs Harry by the wrist and yanks him into his room, saving them both from the naked boy drinking tea in the kitchen. He shuts the door and takes a deep breath and —
He can't do it.
wanna be with you. m really sorry. im just really confused and i cant let myself believe you care about me
Harry reads it and smiles. "You don't have to believe me," he says, "just give me a chance."
That's what Louis needs. A chance. He kisses him as a yes.
***
It's May 31st. Louis plays with the Phil in two days.
He's thrown up eight times from nerves and won't leave his room even for meals. The others come in, but he never goes out.
Harry hasn't left his side. He's endured Louis crying and screaming and vomiting and he's still here. Louis finds it amazing as he plays his piece for the eighth time that morning and Harry listens for the eighth time that morning.
"You're sounding great Louis," he says as Louis finishes, dropping his bow out of exhaustion. "Really awesome."
i only play well when youre here
Harry smiles. "Well then good thing I'll be there, right?" Louis nods and he fine tunes his instrument under his chin. "Take a break, Louis. Come to lunch with me."
practice makes perfect
"You're already perfect," Harry argues. Louis snorts and rosins his bow.
you know ill never believe you
"But I believe me."
does that mean anything?
"It means I believe in you, Louis. I think you're a great person and you've got a lot of potential."
for?
"Everything," Harry says, smiling. "I think you could be the best public speaker in the world if you wanted."
Louis shakes his head.
id say something bad and everyone would hate me
"That's entirely untrue," Harry says. "I'm not Dr. May, but I know that just because it happened once doesn't guarantee it'll happen again."
but it will
"That's your opinion," he says, scooting to the edge of the bed. "Come cuddle. Take a breather. Your arms and fingers must be dying."
Harry's right — his right arm is cramping from bowing and the callouses on his fingers are beginning to split. He goes over to Harry and sits next to him and doesn't even argue when he's pulled into Harry's lap.
They're really nothing official. They haven't given it a name. They're essentially in the place they were last time — they kiss a lot and they act like lovers to an extent. But Louis has somewhat opened himself up to the world of groping — just a little. Just enough that Harry's made him come in his jeans on three separate occasions during three different movies.
Harry's been hinting at sex for a good few hours now. Louis just doesn't think he's ready, and Harry gets that. Louis typed to him that he's only ever had one night stands and then his friends-with-benefits relationship with Niall (which Harry doesn't like at all). So Harry understands why he's nervous — he can't just wake up in the morning and pretend it didn't happen, or walk out without a goodbye. It's a commitment and Louis doesn't think he can do that.
"Lemme ask you a question," Harry says, rubbing his thumbs on Louis' tummy. Louis nods. "What exactly are you afraid of?" He hands Louis his phone back.
"In what sense?" Louis asks.
"Sex? And talking?"
Louis thinks. "I'm not, like — afraid of sex. I'm just not ready yet." Harry nods. "And like... Talking I guess... 'M just afraid I'll say the wrong thing. And everything's so much nicer when I'm quiet."
"You just spoke, though," Harry says, now rubbing his sides.
"Cos I kinda believe you," he says. It occurs to him how much he's talking and he wants to vomit again. "Like how you said you'll never leave me even though I'm a massive fuck up."
Harry smiles into his hair. "D'you feel comfortable with me?"
Louis smiles. "Mostly."
"Do you wanna blow me?"
"Way to ruin the moment, really," Louis says, playfully pushing away from Harry.
He doesn't do it. He's not ready.
***
He's ready.
He's backstage waiting for the Phil to finish their first symphony and then he goes out, plays, bows, and sprints off stage.
He knows Harry and the others are in the front row, jittery and excited because their best friend is playing with the London Philharmonic.
He's ready but he's incredibly nervous and he can't keep food down. He needs Harry or Niall or Zayn or even Liam with him backstage or he might pass out.
He hears the applause and a stage manager is telling him he's on in 30 seconds.
His hands are sweaty and his mouth is dry and he's being ushered on stage and his ears are ringing and he makes eye contact with Harry and all his nerves melt away and he's calm.
He waits for silence before he raises his violin and —
***
He nails it. The applause he gets when he bows before the rest of the Phil is incredible — his head hurts with the noise and Niall's shouting congrats and Liam and Zayn are clapping and Liam looks teary eyed and Harry — Harry's crying; actual, real tears that make Louis think that maybe he's Harry's whole world.
When he gets back stage Mr. Baron's there with a big smile and wraps him in a hug. "Knew you'd do amazing, Louis. I'm so proud. Don't forget about me when you're the most famous violinist in the world," he says, smiling.
He hears the telltale signs of a Niall making its way down the corridor and before he's ready there's a blonde mass of hair in his face and shouting in his ear. He laughs and rubs Niall's back as he excitedly voices himself into Louis' deafening ears. When he finally lets go Zayn and Liam hug him in a sandwich and he feels like a kid again.
And then he lets go to reach for his non-boyfriend and — he's not there. And he falls apart.
He knew it would happen. He knew finally when he'd let his wall down a little, turned the bricks from it into a pathway of opportunities, he knew he'd leave. He doesn't feel the tears until Zayn's wiping them away with a smile but he can't hear what he's saying until Niall laughs all cute like Louis doing something positively adorable. He see's Niall's lips moving in a sad smile and he's rubbing Louis' upper arms and then he moves out of the way and theres the boy who he thought had broken his heart smiling with a massive bouquet of roses in his hands.
Louis jumps into Harry's arms — literally jumps — and kisses him on the mouth. He faintly hears Niall cheering in the background but he doesn't care because Harry tastes so good and smells so good and feels so good against him that he never wants to move out of his arms. But theres a rose thorn digging into his arm so he detaches himself from Harry who's sporting the biggest grin Louis has ever seen him wear.
The drive home Louis has to actually keep his mouth shut for once. He actually has to try because he so badly wants to blurt out his feelings for Harry but it's best not to do it in the back seat of Niall's Range Rover.
They arrive back at the flat and Liam and Zayn go to Zayn's bedroom because apparently its been weeks since they’ve had a proper shag because of exams. Niall groans and says he’s going to the store, and that leaves Louis and Harry. Alone. Sort of. Except for the couple having sex down the hall.
i want to talk
They sit down on the couch as Harry reads it and smiles. “Yeah? Why all of a sudden?” Louis reaches for his phone but Harry holds it out of his reach. “If you want to talk, you actually do have to talk, Louis.”
Louis huffs in annoyance. “I want to talk because the first day we met I remember how hurt you looked when you said your name and I didn’t say mine right away because I was too pussy to talk.”
Harry’s eyebrows knit together and he appears to be thinking. “When…” And his eyes widen. “Oh, Louis. That’s not a big deal, really. I don’t care about that anymore.”
Louis scrunches up his nose, trying to think of a better reason, because that was really his only reason. “I want to talk because you love hearing my voice. Because I kind of miss having people laugh at my jokes. I… I just…. I like… I just want to.”
Louis thinks he sees tears in Harry’s eyes. “I think I’m okay with talking around you, really. But other people might take me a while, really.”
Harry nods and puts his arm on the couch behind Louis’ head. “I’m proud of you.”
And Louis gets nervous. He gets butterflies. He wants Harry to give his phone back.
No. He can do this. He can talk. Nothing’s going to happen. No one's going to judge him.
“I’m ready,” he says, shutting his eyes. He opens one after a minute because Harry’s done nothing. He has a puzzled look on his face.
“Ready for what?”
Louis groans. “Sex.”
“You’re so blunt, Louis Tomlinson,” he says, smiling.
They’ve never kissed like this before. With tongue and teeth and more saliva than Louis cares for. He feels Harry’s hands begin to toy with the bottom of his shirt and he leans back so Harry can take it off him. And really, Harry looks like a kid in a candy shop. “I didn’t know you had chest tattoos,” he says, running his hands over them and smiling. “I like them.”
Harry pulls off his own shirt as if he’s reading Louis’ mind. Louis has seen his tattoos and he adores them. Especially the birds. He leans over and licks one, just with a little flick of his tongue, and he feels Harry shudder under him. He does it again and Harry's hands fist into his hair.
Louis undoes the buttons of Harry's jeans and pulls them down just enough so he can pet at Harry's cock through the material of his boxers. "Fuck, Lou," he breathes, massaging his fingers on Louis' scalp and — yes— this is what Louis likes.
His fingers tickle Harry at the waistband of his boxers for a moment before he tugs them down and — wow.
He's never really seen Harry's cock in its entirety, but now that he has he's incredibly glad he doesn't have a gag reflex. And if his mouth waters a little, Harry doesn't need to know.
He takes Harry into his mouth and the younger boy squirms below him as he swirls his tongue and sucks on the head. He bobs his head up and down and filthily moans around him, sending vibrations up his cock and making Harry whine. Harry's subconsciously pushing Louis farther and farther down his shaft until Louis' nose is touching his belly and Harry lets out a loud groan and comes down Louis' throat. "Fuck, Lou."
Louis pulls off and smiles and Harry scoffs at him. "Want you to fuck me," Harry says and, well, Louis doesn't really want to deny him that.
He maneuvers Harry so he's laying flat on the couch and shucks his jeans and briefs down and throws them somewhere in the room. He reaches in between the boy's legs and rubs a dry finger against his hole. Harry shudders. "Lube — fuck — you need lube, Lou."
"I know," he says, reaching into the couch cushions where he knows Zayn keeps lube packets and condoms and all sorts of other goodies.
He opens a packet and squeezes some onto his finger and pushes one inside carefully. He moves it slowly and watches as Harry writhes beneath him from the foreign intrusion. He's soon up to three and Harry lets out a guttural moan when Louis brushes over his prostate. "Good?"
He looks at Harry as he nods and notices Harry's hard again. Young people, Louis thinks, rolling his eyes.
He pulls out his fingers a wipes them on the couch as he reaches for a condom. He pulls his trousers and briefs down and he doesn't miss the gasp Harry lets out when his cock springs free. He rips it open with his teeth and rolls it down his cock, sighing at the relief it's finally getting. He shuffles over in between Harrys legs and leans down and kisses him, soft and short, and then lines himself up with Harry's hole. "Ready, H?"
Harry squeezes his eyes shut and takes a few deep breaths. "Always been a top, Louis," he says, laughing. "It's gonna hurt, yeah?"
Louis would never have even started this if he knew Harry had never bottomed. He doesn't want to put him through the uncomfortableness of having a dick up his arse.
"We can switch?" Louis suggests, which answers Harry's question. "I've been called a 'power bottom' before."
Harry laughs and covers his eyes and sighs. "No, wanna bottom. Just do it."
"It's gonna burn, okay? Just tell me if you want to stop and we'll swi —"
"For fucks sakes' Louis! We're not switching!" Harry says, eyes wide. "Just do it."
Louis wants to clam up and crawl into a hole, but he does what he's told. He presses forward, revelling in the feeling of Harry's hole pulling him and pushing him out all the same. "Don't push, love."
"M trying," Harry says, his face scrunched up in pain. "But it feels so weird."
"I know, love. Just don't push me out. Just relax." He feels Harry relax around him and he's almost all the way in when it finally starts hurting.
"Ow — Lou, stop." He stops. He watches Harry breathe and clench his fists by his side and grind his teeth.
"Switch?" Louis asks. Harry shakes his head.
"Just lemme get used to it," he says. He lifts his hips off the couch below Louis and Louis slides in all the way and he doesn't scream. Harry brings his hips back down, panting. "M good, Lou. Slow."
Louis nods and slowly pulls out and pushes in again. He lets out a moan as he begins to set a pace, albeit slow.
Harry becomes a mess under him — sweaty and moaning and writhing. "God, Louis," he moans as Louis hits his spot. "Right — fuck — right there. Go — go faster."
Louis obliges and speeds up his thrusts and he feels a familiar heat curl in his abdomen. "So good — shit — Harry so good."
Without warning Harry shouts and comes on his stomach — his cum reaching as far as his chin. Louis pulls out in favor of not over stimulating the boy his first time bottoming. He climbs up and sits on Harry's thighs, throws the condom off the couch, and jerks himself in time with Harry's still-erratic breathing until he comes on Harry's stomach with a shout and collapses onto him.
They lay there for god knows how long — Niall comes home and snorts at them at some point — and by the time either of them wants to move they're practically glued together by the mess of cum on their bellies.
"Good?" Louis finally asks, lifting his head to look at Harry's face. Harry nods and smiles. "Shower?" Harry nods and hisses as Louis peels himself off of his chest and they go to the shower together.
They end up cuddling in a blanket on the couch and fall asleep there together watching Love Actually.
***
Louis decides to be quiet again, though. Not as much around Harry, but he doesn't want to speak. He tells Dr. May at his appointment the next day.
"How was your performance?" he asks.
everyone says I did fantastic
Dr. May smiles. "I'm sure you did. I hear you're a very good violinist." He adjusts his glasses. "So I've been told you've been talking around your boyfriend."
- Louis likes that word. He nods.
I trust him.
Dr. May smiles. "I'm glad, Louis. That's a very big step for you. I was told it came out of almost nowhere."
kinda yeah
Dr. May nods. "Well what would it take to get you to talk around Neil?" he asks. Louis smiles.
nye-all
Dr. May nods. "Sorry. Niall. Do you trust him?"
with my life
"How about Zayn?"
of course
"And Liam?"
for the most part
"Your family?"
yes
"Then why wont you talk to them? What makes them so different from Harry?"
Louis sits back and thinks, tapping the pen on his chin.
i love him like i've never loved anyone.
"So you trust him like you've never trusted anyone."
exactly
***
Louis' 'assignment' for the next week is to attempt speaking around the flat, in front of the others. It makes him nauseous, really.
June fifteenth, just two or so weeks after his performance, Harry brings in the mail with a smile. Harry's kind of unofficially moved in with them. Niall opted to sleep on the couch but Harry told him no. "I don't live here and I know you won't fuck my boyfriend," he said, winking. But Harry hasn't been sleeping on the couch because Niall's been spending his nights at some guys house.
"So who's the guy?" Liam asks as Louis rips open the letter Harry handed him. Harry made them all ham and cheese and salmon and silantro omelets and they're actually quite good.
Niall smiles into his orange juice. "Guy in my sound class. Nothing really."
"Nothing with that limp you're sporting," Zayn mutters, and Harry snorts into his juice.
Louis zones out of the conversation as he reads his letter.
Dear Mr. Tomlinson,
The London Philharmonic would like to congratulate you on your successful performance. We are very impressed and hope to see you back soon.
In addition to this congratulations, the London Philharmonic would like to formally invite you to have a permanent seat with the Philharmonic, stand 2 seat 3.
Please respond via email or phone call by June 30th.
Regards,
Simon Cowell - Conductor
"Holy shit," Louis says. All conversation stops and everyone looks at him. He lays the letter on the table and the four of them lean over to read it.
"Holy shit is right, mate," Niall says with a smile. "That's sick! Are you gonna take it?"
Louis sits back in his chair and nods. He feels Harry's lips on his cheek and he smiles.
Harry helps him write a letter back after satisfying shower blow-jobs and Niall, Liam and Zayn go out and buy celebratory beer and food.
"I'm so proud of you," Harry says as he sits down next to Louis and runs a hand through his wet hair.
Louis isn't in the mood to speak but he does anyway. "For what?"
"Getting a seat with the Phil! Like, that's honestly incredible!"
Louis smiles up at him and puts their lips together. "Love you."
"Love you too."
The first time Harry said love you, Louis freaked out. But Harry calmed him down and explained. "In my mind, it's only a big deal if there's an I in front of it. So like, you can say love you and it's not like some whole psychological shit about love and feelings, its just a reminder that I care."
It's the best thing Louis has ever heard. Although he really wishes he had the courage to add in the vowel before.
Niall comes in then with his hands full of beer. "Celebration!" he says. Harry ruffles his hair again before standing and putting on a t-shirt.
"You don't need one of those," Louis says. Harry grins and rolls his eyes.
"No shirt, no shoes, no service."
Louis smirks. "You're not wearing shoes, Styles."
Harry looks down with a frown. "You won't let me wear shoes in the flat. That's your own fault."
Louis smiles. He's dating an idiot, really.
***
He's never had so many older sets of eyes on him. He sits with his back rod-straight with his stand partner, Jacob, while the Conductor praises him as, "the youngest violinist to ever grace the Philharmonic stage."
They play some things that are easy and one that's slightly difficult that absolutely wrecks the muscles in Louis' hand.
"So, Louis," Jacob says. Louis only knows a little about him, but he knows his old stand partner was 4th chair and he was 3rd, and now Louis has taken his spot. "What's your life like?"
He reluctantly pulls out his phone.
im 21 and i graduate uni with a major in music and a minor in biology next week, i live with my friends zayn niall liam and my boyfriend harry, and i dont talk
Jacob's eyebrows scrunch just as he hands the phone back to him. "So you're a fag?"
Louis' heart stops beating. He feels his stomach twitch and feels bile rise up in his throat. He shakes his head and types.
not a fag
"Well that's what I'd call you," he says as if it isn't a derogatory term. "D'you go to church?"
no
The bile's getting higher in his throat as he anticipates what Jacob will say next. "Well I wouldn't imagine you would. God hates gays, which I assume you know. That's why you no longer go to church?"
He runs out of the building and throws up in the grass.
***
"I'm so sorry that happened to you, Louis," Dr. May says with a genuine look of sorrow on his face. "That's really a terrible thing."
His face feels funny from the dried tear tracks streaking it.
i want to quit
"I don't think you should. You can't let one person ruin a whole experience for you."
i don't want to speak or write. complete mutism.
"That's not my decision but it is my job to steer you in the right direction. And the right direction is not becoming completely mute. Have you spoken since then?"
Louis shakes his head.
"Not even to Harry?"
He shakes it again.
"How do you think that makes him feel? Did you tell him why?"
probably like shit and yes
"What did he say?"
he said he'd do anything he could to make me feel better
"And what did he try?"
sex
Dr. May nods and tries to hide a smile. "And how did that go?"
didn't let him. he didn't do it in an asshole-ish sort of way. it wasn't by force. just asked if i wanted and i said no. part of me talking to harry is me trusting him and everyone else and ive lost trust.
Dr. May nods. "So how can we build up that trust again? How did you build it up the first time?"
dunno
"I'm sorry Louis," Dr. May says, "but you're here to get better and for that to happen you're going to have to tell me what built that trust with Harry."
his love. he believes in me
"Don't the others as well?"
probably not
Dr. May tilts his head. "I believe they do."
they wouldnt watch me eat and make me come here and make me shower with the door open and take wastebaskets out of my room if they did
Dr. May nods at the new information. "And why do they do that?"
Louis huffs in annoyance.
a few years ago i just stopped eating. it was more stress than body image but i didnt eat and eventually i got sick and was in rehab for a while and now they dont trust me
Dr. May sighs. "I don't think it's so much that they don't trust you, Louis. I think they're worried about you. People who are quiet never tell anyone what's wrong. They're just worried."
Louis sits back and thinks. People care about me. He almost doesn't want to believe it.
He doesn't, is the thing.
"What's on your mind?" Dr. May asks, glancing at the clock. They have three minutes left.
dunno
"So there's nothing on your mind?"
essentially
The timer rings and Dr. May sighs. "I suggest you talk to the conductor about it. Maybe he can do something."
He feels the bitterness behind his words as he opens the door. "This isn't grade school. Telling the teacher doesn't work."
***
"Harry, you have to agree that this isn't okay, that we need to do something," Niall says. It's one of those times where Louis is 'asleep'.
"I know theres something wrong! I know what's wrong. I know I have to do something but I don't know what." He can practically hear Harry scrubbing his hands over his face. "I care about him so much."
"We do too, mate," Zayn says. "Always have."
"I hated him when we first met," Liam says. Louis hears a smacking sound.
"Not fucking relevant, Li," Zayn says.
"Sorry."
Niall sighs. "What are we gonna do? I miss my buddy."
"He hasn't talked to you in five years. Of course you miss him," Zayn says.
Louis chooses to walk in then and situates himself in Harry's lap. He squeezes his wrist as a 'hi'.
"Hi love," he says, kissing his head. "Slep well?"
Louis definitely doesn't miss the sad looks that are being thrown at him from around the room. He shakes his head.
"No?" Harry asks, confused. He shakes his head again. "Why not?"
Louis pulls his phone out of the waistband of his briefs.
nightmares
Harry reads it out loud and Niall's breath catches. "You said those stopped."
they did. they came back
Niall shakes his head. "I — fuck," he says, kicking the coffee table. Zayn puts a hand on his thigh. "It's all my fault."
"What is?" Liam asks.
"I was the one who told him it'd be a sick idea to come out. Like, be the only outie in school," Niall says. Louis sees tears form in his eyes but Niall quickly wipes them away. "I'm so sorry, Louis."
s not your fault
"It really isn't," Harry states. He rubs his hands up and down Louis' sides and now is not the time for Louis to get a boner but oh well.
And so now Niall thinks Louis' muteness is his fault and Louis is hard on Harry's lap and Zayn's probably upset because he could be fucking Liam right now.
***
(Louis goes to three sessions a week with Dr. May until the psychologist has managed to convince him that Harry and Liam and Zayn and Niall love him and it's okay to talk. He can do it. Dr. May tells him that his homophobic stand partner is just another piece in the game of life. Louis nods and they set a goal of shutting his phone off for 3 hours a day when he's with the boys so he can talk.)
***
Louis is over it. He's totally over it. He can do this. He can sit next to his dick stand partner, he can talk to his boyfriend. He can finally fuck his boyfriend. That's the first thing he does.
Louis wakes up at around seven on Saturday. He rolls over and sees that Harry's still asleep. He looks almost angelic. His hair is messy on the pillow and his cheeks and cheekbones are lovely and relaxed. Louis wants to pet him. He doesn't.
Instead he scoots himself under the covers and maneuvers himself in between Harry's pliant legs. He stares for a minute at Harry's newest tattoos — two ferns right where the waistband of his boxers is. He leans forward and kisses each one before he hooks his fingers into Harry's boxers and tugs them down and off. Harry's soft in his hand and he kind of loves it — how vulnerable Harry is like this.
Harry starts to whimper in his sleep as Louis sucks him to hardness. Harry's hand has found its way into his hair and his fingers are massaging his scalp. Louis moans around him and Harry echoes loudly as a hand lifts up the blanket and he's met with the green eyes he first fell in love with. Louis pulls off his cock with a pop and smiles. "Mooooorning."
Harry groans. "Fuck me."
Harry's so blunt when he wants to be fucked and Louis loves it. Of course Louis would even love it if Harry was into having his arse paddled or having his face ridden or wax play. Louis makes a note to ask him later.
He crawls out from under the sheets and leans over Harry and reaches for a condom and the bottle of lube. "C'n you," Harry says sleepily, "can we — no condom?"
Louis freezes. "I — Harr — no," he says sternly. "It's unsafe."
Harry fucking whimpers. "I'm clean. You're clean. What's the problem?"
Louis huffs in annoyance. "Not having this conversation," he says as he tears open the condom.
"Then let me top," Harry states, by now fully awake and alert. Louis freezes with the still-rolled condom at his tip.
"I — you're still gonna have to use a condom," Louis says.
"My cock," Harry says, plucking the condom out of Louis' hand and setting it on the night stand, "my rules."
"My bed," Louis says, taking the condom and rolling it on himself, "my rules. We'll switch. Don't come."
At that Louis slicks himself up and pushes in and just loves the way Harry goes lax under him. He fucks him hard and fast and several times Harry has to squeeze the base of his cock or tug on his balls to keep from coming.
When Louis comes its with a shout that has Niall banging on the door yelling, "I'm trying to sleep you fuckers! Quiet up!"
Louis laughs as he pulls out and collapses next to Harry who's already lubed himself up sans condom. He smirks at Louis. "You cannot expect me to ride you after I just fucked you like that."
"But I can," Harry says, smiling. He pulls Louis on top of him and scoots him a little up his chest so he can tease Louis' entrance with his tip. Louis shuffles himself backwards until Harry's fully in and then sighs happily on top of Harry.
"Love being full," he says, moving his hips a little. "So good."
Harry wraps his arms around Louis and grabs his arse and moves it at his own will. He moves it slow at first, slamming him back down just so Louis will bite harder where he's sucking a bruise onto Harry's collar bone.
"C'mon — fuck, Harry — faster c'mon," Louis says, attaching their mouths together as he moans when Harry speeds up. His lower back feels funny from the movements but his cock his hard and getting incredible fiction from where its situated between his and Harry's chests.
"Shit — gonna — " Harry can't even tell Louis before he feels him spill inside of his arse with a moan that'll probably have Niall at their door again. "Fuck."
Louis giggles on top of him and suddenly Harry turns serious. "On your hands and knees," he says, a firey look in his eyes.
Louis' eyes widen and he pulls off of Harry's softening cock, whimpering at the empty feeling, and gets on his hands and knees next to Harry.
Harry moves behind him and strokes his thumb over his hole. "Gonna eat you out till you come," he says, and Louis shivers at that.
He feels Harry's tongue prod his entrance and his arms give out and he moans into the mattress. "Oh fuck Harry," he says.
Harry moans into him and then theres a finger along with Harry's tongue and Louis comes untouched onto the sheets. He flops forward and he feels the blanket being pulled up onto his shoulders and the bed dips next to him as Harry lays down next to him. Louis can feel his stomach starting to stick to the sheets but he doesn't care because Harry's here and next to him and he loves him.
He wants to tell him so bad — but he's too scared. He can talk to Harry, say things he couldn't before — but I love you — with the vowel and everything — he doesn't think he can do it.
"Love you," Harry says, stroking his sweaty hair. Louis smiles.
It slips. "I love you too."
And just like he hadn't expected, Harry takes a sharp breath in and says, "Really?"
Louis smiles. "Yeah."
Harry kisses him and they attempt to fall asleep to the noise of the other couple in the room next to them.
(They might be sex addicts.)
***
The next Phil rehearsal is Thursday morning. Louis gets up and kisses Harry's forehead and says a goodbye to a grumpy Zayn in the kitchen.
He arrives just before the eight o'clock start time and slides into his seat just as Simon Cowell is walking onto the stage. Louis never talked to him about his stand partner. He figured, I'm a man, I can do this.
He feels Jacob's eyes on him for a moment before they dive into a movement of some piece Louis can't remember the name of.
"So," Jacob says, chewing on a ham sandwich on their twelve o'clock break, "hows the fag life treating you?"
Louis stares up from the left over omelete he took from the fridge this morning. His phone feels heavy in his pocket. He doesn't answer Jacob.
"That well, eh? Yeah, if I were getting fucked in the bum every night I wouldn't want to speak either."
And it occurs to Louis that he wants to smash his head into a meat grinder, as violent as it is. How could someone be so mean?
"What's your problem, you arse?" Louis asks. His chest swells with something like pride and nervousness.
Jacob looks taken aback — maybe from Louis' voice or the comeback — and he puts his sandwich down. "Sorry?"
"I said like — " He chokes. He can do this. "I said, what's your problem? Like what — what's your issue with homosexuality? I don't get it, mate."
Jacob's eyebrows knit together and he sits back in his chair. "Dunno. I just always learned that guys who get dicked on a regular basis are, like, unworthy of heaven."
Louis shakes his head. "You absolute arse. I'm more worthy of heaven than you ever will be."
Jacob watches him eat his omelete and leaves rehearsal an hour early.
Ten days later as Louis' sitting down to breakfast, Harry hands him a letter from the Phil telling him the name of his new stand partner, Lacey.
***
Louis doesn't really know what changed in him. If you asked him why he all of a sudden felt confident talking, he couldn't tell you. He'd just pat Harry's leg fondly.
It's been ten years since he met Harry. They live in their house up in Harry's hometown of Holmes Chapel. Niall lives next door with his boyfriend Josh and his surrogate twins, two boys. Louis and Harry went with surrogacy and came up with a daughter and a son.
Louis is sitting at home at the table, checking over his music for any bowings he needs to remember or rhythms he has to figure out. Two years ago Simon Cowell hand picked him to be the next conductor of the London Philharmonic. The board had no objections.
He feels a small set of arms wrap around his neck and there's a letter stuffed in his face. "Hi daddy!"
Louis cranes his neck and is met with the bright green eyes of his daughter. He smiles. His daughter looks just like Harry, and their son looks just like Louis. "Dad gave me this," she says, giggling as she's sat in her daddy's lap.
(They never told their kids to differ with 'daddy' and 'dad'. It happened when their son overheard Harry one night in their 'daddy' phase, and, well.)
"Thank you, Nikki," he says, smiling and kissing her nose. She toys with the glasses on his face and kisses his back.
"Dad said uncle Zayn and auntie Liam are coming over today."
Louis laughs. "You can't call uncle Liam auntie around him, sweetie. It's just a joke between me and dad, yeah?" She giggles a yes and she runs off of his lap in favor of the barbies in their livingroom.
"Hazza?" He calls. Harry's hated that nickname forever, but Louis loves the way it bugs him. Harry comes in from outside.
"Yeah?"
"What's this?" He asks, waving the letter around. Harry shrugs.
"Was in the box for you," Harry says, taking juice out of the fridge and kissing Louis' lips as he sits down. "Just open it."
He looks at the return address in the top left corner.
May
He opens the letter, puzzled as he reads the messy scrawl that he deems is familiar.
He pulls out several yellow pieces of lined paper with scrawl on them, and one white with longhand. He reads the longhand first.
Mr. Tomlinson,
There's a fantastic chance you won't recollect our time together, but my daughter came home from school the other day telling me how wonderful you were speaking about the importance of music to her year.
These are the 'conversations' we had before you were even able to think about speaking in front in front of crowds, let alone Harry, or Niall, or Zayn, or Liam.
- Carl May
Louis blinks at the letter and then his eyes flit to his handwriting on the yellow paper.
He smiles. It brings him back to when he met Harry and how much he helped him.
He reads through them, trying to picture what he must have been talking about. He avoids the lengthy paragraph about his coming out but knows Harry is watching his every move.
"He sent me our conversations," he says. "When I still wrote."
Harry smiles and kisses him as their son walks in. "Gross," he says. They laugh into each others' mouths as their son sits down at the table and smacks Harry on the arm. "Dad, stop it!"
Harry pulls away from Louis with a smile reaching his eyes. I love you, he mouths.
Louis smiles and mouths it back. "How was school bud?" Louis asks.
Their son frowns. "This kid in my class made fun of me for you," he says. "Derek two-daddies," he said in a mocking tone.
"Hey," Louis say, frowning and rubbing Derek's back. "Remember how dad told you I never spoke when we first met?" Derek nods. "Do you know why?"
Derek nods. "Beat up for being gay, yeah."
Louis nods and shivers and feels Harry's hand on his arm. He smiles a little. "Just remember that whatever those kids say to you now will mean nothing when you're the most successful football player with two dads, yeah?" Derek smiles and kicks the ground. He nods.
"I've got homework," he says. He meets both of his dads eyes before he scoots his chair out and walks to his room.
Louis leans back in his chair and flits his eyes down to the yellow papers on the table. "Can we go for coffee when Liam and Zayn get here?"
Harry nods. "Yeah, sure. Where?"
When Liam and Zayn arrive Louis takes a handful of cubes of sugar and dumps them in his pocket. He drives them down to the coffee shop in London (far from home but so worth it) and drops Harry. "I'll be right there, just gonna park."
He drives to find an empty lot about five minutes away. It's about 7 pm when he starts walking. He texts Harry as he walks.
Be there at 7:05, byos :)
He arrives and dumps the sugar on the table and, that's it really. That's their life. Full of sounds and giggles and coffee and one's own sugar to sweeten it.