Unbelievers

Chapter 5.4

When Louis walks into homeroom the morning after, Harry catches his eyes instantly.

They woke up in the morning just past seven by Louis' alarm. Harry looked rumpled by sleep, voice hoarse and somehow soft despite the rasp. Louis had to restrain himself from running a hand through his hair.

"Will you give me a ride to school?" Harry asked, blinking innocently.

"Not a chance," Louis answered, pushing him away from him on the bed. Harry grabbed the duvet, rolling himself into a burrito. "I have to drive Lottie, so you need to leave before she wakes up."

"I don't want to," Harry huffed. "I have to walk home and get my car."

"You need a change of clothes, too."

"Can I borrow yours?"

"They wouldn't even fit," Louis scoffed. "You'd stretch them."

"I wouldn't," Harry huffed indignantly, unwrapping himself from the duvet. He got up, giving Louis an eyeful of his bare legs and chest. He was only in his boxers, and Louis narrowed his eyes as his gaze followed Harry to the drawers. The boy started rifting through his clothes, making a mess, and Louis groaned loudly.

"Stop ruining my drawers!"

"Stop whining. Hey, this one will fit." He held up Louis' blue button down, one Louis only uses when he has too look relatively proper. It was slightly too big for him, so he supposed Harry could take it.

"Fine, but wash it after."

"Yeah, yeah, Mum." Harry treaded his arms into the sleeves, and Louis' eyes caught the way the end of the sleeves were twisted incorrectly. His fingers twitched, urging to fix it. "I need pants."

"You're not allowed to borrow my trousers."

"I think these'll fit."

"Those are mine!" Louis ripped the black jeggings from his hands, holding them as he pushed his own pajama bottoms down. "Stop looking."

"You're getting all naked in front of me. It's unfair to tell me I can't look."

"My body, my rules."

Harry shrugged, hands digging around in Louis' drawer still. "Fine. I'll just close my eyes and picture you naked instead."

"You need therapy."

"You need to tame your hair."

Damn.

Louis eyed himself in the mirror. He really did need to fix it. He went to fetch a brush from the bathroom and sent a dark look at Harry on the way over. It took less than a minute though, and then Harry was walking into the bathroom, crowding Louis in by the sink. He noticed he was wearing a pair of Louis' black jeans; too short, unfairly tight.

But he was smirking, rifting through the cupboard while Louis' huffed in annoyance, Harry's chest draped over his back. "Is this toothbrush yours?"

"Yes, why – No!"

Harry fit a strong arm around his waist, keeping him tightly back against Harry's hip. He batted Louis' hands away, placing the toothbrush down on the edge of the sink to put on some toothpaste.

"Gross," Louis whined, when Harry brought it to his mouth.

"Can't do anything about it now," Harry grinned, voice muffled.

"Like, hell I can," Louis growled, and started twisting in Harry's grip, writhing and digging his nails into Harry's arm.

Harry tried not to budge, but Louis is a "squirmy little thing" as he put it. Eventually they ended up crawling on the floor, both of Harry's big hands locking Louis down.

"Why," was what Harry said, when they were breathing heavily, lying on the floor.

"I don't know," Louis said. He actually had no idea why they were wrestling over a toothbrush, but "I want my toothbrush."

"You can have it when I'm done." There was toothpaste dripping down his chin.

Louis leaned in, biting the end of the toothbrush between his teeth and sufficiently removing it from Harry's mouth.

Harry was looking incredulously at him, and Louis internally wondered why he was so acting like a fucking weirdo. What is he doing, honestly? He spat the brush from his mouth, and heard it land somewhere to his left.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"I honestly don't know."

Harry met his eyes, and for a moment they almost looked a bit... fond. "Do you want some toothpaste with that?"

"What?"

Harry kissed him. Toothpaste. It was disgusting.

Louis brings himself back to reality, Niall tugging on his arm toward their seats farther back in the classroom. He can't help but keep his eyes on Harry as they walk down the row, though. He's in Louis' clothes, hair soft and tucked behind his ear. He's also meeting Louis' gaze brightly, only blinking back innocently.

Normally, Louis would assume something was up, that Harry was planning something, but now... he's not sure. Something happened here, he thinks.