Prompt:
A month ago, Harry kissed his best friend. He didn't think it through at the time. His girlfriend just cheated on him, he was drunk and vulnerable, and Louis was telling him everything he needed to hear. Now he can't stop thinking about how much he wants it to happen again.
Louis is not in love with his best friend. There's no way it could ever work out, he tells himself over and over. Besides, Harry probably doesn't even remember the kiss happened. It shouldn't have happened. He can't lose Harry because of it.
As competition season comes to an end, the pair are about to leave on their school's year-end band trip, which will be the final one they'll be attending before heading off to university. Spending that much constant time together can create a lot of tension, both negative and otherwise.
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Chapter 1: Intonation
The atmosphere was rowdy and bustling as the band room filled with students setting up for the afternoon lesson. Harry was sat on his chair on the centre tier, long limbs confined to a small seat with his clarinet case open on his lap. He was pushing the bell onto the body of the instrument. His reed was hanging out of his mouth to moisten while his eyes focused on lining up the pieces.
Surrounding Harry, his classmates were yelling and joking with each other while dragging chairs and stands across the carpet, accidentally hitting the other chairs and stands as they made their way to the opposite side of the room. And of course there was the obnoxious practicing of individual parts that sounded nothing but disheveled when heard all together. At this point however, after being in this class with more or less the same people for seven years, it was nothing Harry wasn't used to by now.
At the front of the room, Miss Hammond, their much admired conductor, was stepping on to the small platform to begin the lesson. This was the signal for everyone to get to their seats and quiet down, but full attention was never obtained until the first warm-up began.
"Concert B flat," Miss Hammond instructed, raising her hands. The students followed with their instruments, slowly moving up and down the scale and increasing tempo with each round. Harry could tell immediately that his instrument was out of tune. He tried to adjust the barrel slightly as they played, picking back up on the sixth note. When the last note came to an end, Miss Hammond made a circle gesture to cut everyone off.
"Alright, the tuner is going around so pull out our festival pieces in the meantime." She placed the tuner on one of the flute player's stands and walked towards her desk to give the students a moment.
Miss Hammond was a small woman, young and easily mistaken as a student herself in the halls at school. She had straight black hair that was always kept in a tight bun. Often she'd stick her baton through it, forget it was even there, and end up conducting with a pencil if no one pointed it out to her. If you asked anyone in band, they'd likely say Hammond was their favourite teacher. The environment of her classes was usually relaxed and she treated her students more like her own peers to form a mutual respect.
When a crash sounded from the back of the class, all eyes turned towards one of the trumpet players, Niall. He was in his last year as well, but looked rather young for his age with shaggy blonde hair and short stature. At the moment, his folder and sheet music were scattered on the ground. The top of the stand was angled perpendicular to the floor, causing the fall.
"Shit," he mumbled as he reached down the pick up the papers. Zayn, the saxophone player who sat on the tier ahead of him, crouched down to help collect the music. Zayn was known for being generally quiet and keeping to himself while Niall had an outwardly whimsical attitude that would accidentally bring attention to himself, like in this case.
