Unbelievers

Chapter 5.3

There's only one day left of break. Louis hasn't hung out with Niall since the incident with Lottie, who for the record is constantly texting Martin. Her face lights up every time her phone chirps, and Louis finds himself glancing at his own phone that stays perfectly silent.

He's not going to lie, Niall and Lottie's constant reminders that he doesn't do anything other than play football makes him feel slightly depressed. He knows they don't know the complete truth, like his job and Harry, but it still makes him feel a bit miserable. He doesn't have much to do the last days of break, since he doesn't have any shifts at the shop and Niall seems distant, though Louis can't blame him.

It hits him that lately the highlights of his life this last year have involved Harry. Nothing has made him feel as much as Harry, no matter what kind of feelings. His situation at home brings him complete misery, but lately Louis has no idea what kind of feelings Harry will extort from him. It's strangely exhilarating and he doesn't know if he likes it or not.

His eyes flicker to his phone again. He could text him... But no. No, he can't.

They wouldn't have anywhere to be anyway. Louis' mum is home for the day, reading in the kitchen, and Lottie is in the living room with Louis, texting. He wouldn't be able to sneak him in, much less sleep with him unnoticed. They can be a bit loud... Plus he's not even that horny, despite it being weeks since he slept with Harry last.

He sighs, rolls over on the couch and closes his eyes. He could use some sleep, he supposes. Staying up and watching porn all night isn't good for his sleeping schedule. It wasn't even for getting off purposes, he was just... curious to what he could do to Harry to have him an undone mess beneath him. And maybe, he wants to do something that'll impress him. Maybe.

He wonders what the kiss thing means. That time after the football pitch was unexpected and if he's honest, really good. He can still remember Harry's soft hands on his neck and cheek, holding him still while he kissed into his mouth. Then there's the kiss on New Year's Eve. It was short, but soft too, and the agreement between them evident.

It was a moment of strange, but mutual affinity. It wasn't sympathy, just... Louis isn't sure what it was. But it mattered somehow.

I don't want to be alone.

Yeah.

Louis ends up going to bed early, stomach feeling slightly anxious. He doesn't know why, but going to bed feels like a solution to escape his silly thoughts and the unease in his chest. It's only seven pm, but he wishes his mum goodnight and says he'll see her when she gets home tomorrow afternoon. Lottie teases him, calling him "grandpa", but he only flips her off, not completely annoyed.

He brushes his teeth, crawling in beneath his covers with a pair of tartan pajama bottoms and a black long sleeved shirt. He feels a bit cold, and he faintly wonders if he's starting to get a fever. He puts music in his ears, pulling the covers up past his head.

Louis wakes up just past one in the morning. Panic! At The Disco is no longer playing from his headphones, but it's only because it's replaced by the shrill sound of his ringtone in his headphones. He groans, pulling his duvet off him. The air that hits him is slightly cool, and he realizes he's been sleeping in his cocoon for several hours.

"What?" he groans into the phone, cheek mushed against his pillow, too tired to even contemplate who could be calling him this late.

"Can I come over? Please."

It's Harry. His voice is almost urgent, a little hoarse, and the first image that pops into Louis' head is the picture of Harry, standing outside Louis' door. He can't do anything but murmur, "Fine," and he tries not to comprehend it, even though his stomach swirls a bit, perhaps.

He sits up, running a hand through his ruffled hair. It's standing in every direction it seems, but he's too tired to bother doing anything about it. He doesn't even know what Harry wants.

The text comes only ten minutes later. He trips quietly down the stairs, checking that Lottie's door is safely closed. He glances out the window, unable to spot Harry's car. Maybe he walked.

He opens the front door, squinting at Harry. His curls are somewhat disheveled as well, his long legs in track bottoms and a green hoodie, jacket on top. He looks tired, but he isn't crying, so Louis takes that as a good sign.

"Hi," he says.

"Hey," Harry answers, hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweater. It almost feels exactly like last time. It feels like such a long time ago now.

"Why are you up at one am? It's school tomorrow," Louis says, voice grave from sleep.

"Couldn't sleep."

Louis steps aside, letting him inside and closes the door behind him. The boy steps out of his shoes, picking them up. His eyes slide over Louis slightly, and yeah, Louis supposes his attire isn't exactly flattering; the pajamas are making his limps look less firm, as if he's still a gangly teenager. He's never been very gangly, though, more compact and small than anything else. Harry's eyes linger on his waist. Louis tries not to think much of it.

Louis turns around, slowly leading the way upstairs. He hears Harry following him and they quietly trudge into Louis' room. As soon as they're inside, Louis closes the door and crawls in under the duvet. He hears Harry shrug out of his jacket, placing is shoes on the floor. It takes a few moments, and then he feels the bed dip next him.

He turns over, cheek mushed against the pillow, face only a couple of inches from Harry's. Louis' toes are freezing.

"You look like a baby hedgehog," Harry murmurs, sleepiness prominent in his voice, too.

Louis digs his chilly toes in between Harry's calves, making him wince. He puts a hand over Harry's eyes. "Sleep."

When he removes his hand, Harry keeps his eyes closed.

Louis watches him for a moment. I don't want to be alone.

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice so soft he's sure Harry didn't hear.