Fingers✅

16-18

Louis is sitting on his counter, with one leg tucked under the other. His phone is in his hand, and he hesitates before turning towards where Harry is sitting in an actual chair. "Can I see your phone?" he asks.

Harry nods, handing him the phone, "Why?"

Louis shrugs, "I need Davis' number. I don't have his number. We're doing group projects and he's the only person in my group that I actually like," he raises his eyebrows, thinking he's selling the story pretty well. What he doesn't know is that Harry doesn't believe it for a second, but he doesn't say anything about it.

Louis texts himself from Harry's phone, sending the number, and then gives Harry his phone back. He hops off the counter, walking around to where Harry is and sitting on his lap. The younger boy smiles and wraps his arms around Louis' waist, just to make sure he doesn't fall off.

"What's up hot stuff?" Louis grins as the words leave his mouth. He drapes his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Shut up," Harry's cheeks go red, and he flicks the side of Louis' head.

"That's no way to talk to your boyfriend," Louis gets off Harry's lap and starts walking away, "guess I'll just sulk by myself about how my boyfriend doesn't think he's hot," he fake sniffles, and when Harry gets up to follow him he runs around the corner. He hides along the wall, jumping out at Harry when he runs by. The younger boy lets out a shout, slapping Louis' arm in response to it. The older boy grabs his arms, grinning and pressing his lips to Harry's. It's a chaste kiss, one that Harry smiles right through, and tucks his head away in the crook of Louis' neck.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Harry sits at his lunch table, full of his two friends and other people in that so called group. He's bouncing his knee nervously, munching his sandwich down. "Do you think Louis' gonna ask me to prom?" he blurts out to his friend, who looks up at him.

"Uh, I mean, probably. Are you guys serious yet?" Logan asks him.

Harry nods, "We kiss and hug and do normal boyfriend stuff. We're probably closer than a lot of Sophomore relationships," he snorts, "plus we've been best friends literally since I was born so we can both be ourselves around each other," he adds.

Logan shrugs, "Then yeah probably. It's what, in a month?"

Harry nods, "Usually people all ask months before though," he leans his chin on his hand.

Logan rips open the small bag of fruit snacks, "Have you guys like," he wiggles his eyebrows, making Harry gasp.

"Oh my god! No! Stop it!" he smacks his friends hat. It turns sideways on his head.

After Logan is done laughing, Harry leans his cheek onto his hand, going on his phone. He's slightly suspicious at Davis, who has been furiously typing on his phone for the past ten minutes. Especially when he suddenly shuts it off and looks up alarmed. He has on a poker face.

Both Harry and Logan both look at him, but then when Louis suddenly slides in next to Harry they both go silent. All three of them, actually. "What?" Louis asks. They all shake their heads. "Okay. Well then, I have a question for you," he turns to Harry, who then wears a nervous expression.

"Uh, yeah, of course, what is it?" Harry fumbles.

Louis smiles, chuckling, "I just wanted to know if you'd do me the extreme honor of going to prom with me?" he holds Harry's fingers, squeezing his hand.

The younger boy grins. He can't contain it. "I mean, I guess," he says sarcastically. And even though the smile and big eyes ruined the whole sarcastic tone, Louis lets it slide. He just beams at his boyfriend, and throws his arm around his neck, keeping a grip on his hand underneath the table while Harry lets his head fall on Louis' shoulder.

"Didn't wanna make a scene since you're not really out yet," he mumbles to the boy.

Harry nods, "I wouldn't have minded. I like this, though," he smiles, thankful that Louis doesn't catch Davis wiggling his eyes at them. Or maybe he does notice. He doesn't say anything either way, so he doesn't worry.

"You're special," Louis whispers in Harry's ear, giving a playful tug on his hair and giggling like a kid when Harry squeaks out a "hey!" and flicks his cheek.

"Love you," Harry tells him. They haven't talked about if when they say it they're saying it as a couple or because they've always said it considering they've known each other since diaper the days. It hasn't affected either one of them though. They're both comfortable with how things are, and don't want to possibly put drama into things. Especially with being in high school, the age of the stupid young love, heartbreaks, and mess ups, as certain people say.

The only drama that comes is the actual day of prom. Or in other words, the day their mothers are both freaking out and they're totally at ease.

Harry's mum had been a bit annoyed that Louis had waited so long to ask Harry, since that gave her almost no time to get Harry a suit for the occasion, but she couldn't be any happier for the two. Louis was practically her second son, so there was nothing that could make her hate him.

Blue and green are the colors they decided to go with. It's the only thing that made sense to them, since it's each of their eye colors, and what's more easy that doing eye colors? Each one is wearing the others color. The only problem is that when Louis comes over Harry's, he's still having trouble with his tie.

Louis sighs, going to stand in front of Harry. He grabs the tie from around his neck, fixing it before tying it the correct way. "You're not the best with ties, I'm seeing," he says, smiling when Harry tells him to shut up. "It's a good thing you like taking pictures, Mr. Harry Styles, because both of our mothers are ready to drown us in camera flashes," he mumbles.

"It won't be any different than when I take you to my prom. I'd get used to it now," he looks in the mirror once Louis is done, and leans his head on the boys shoulder.

"You look lovely," Louis compliments, his voice quiet.

Harry grins, his cheeks flushing, "You look pretty dashing yourself," he says, looking up at his boyfriend.

"Can't wait to dance the night away," Louis jokes, pulling some embarrassing dance move. Harry rolls his eyes, shoving his shoulder gently. But when Louis only grabs his arm and pulls him chest to chest, he can't resist pecking his lips. No matter how horrible a dancer he's going to be at prom.