back for you ➳ l.s.

thirty six - mistakes

When Louis returned, the bedroom seemed much too quiet. He paused in the doorway, yellow light flooding into the room from the bathroom. His voice filled the room completely when he spoke, loud and out of place among the suffocating silence.

"Harry? Everything okay?"

A muffled sniffle, then: "I'm okay."

Just the tone of his boyfriend's voice told Louis that he was crying again. His head spun with renewed worry, his heart dropping down to rest in his stomach. He switched off the bathroom light in a hurry, plunging the room into a shadowy darkness aside from the pale moonlight shining in through the window.

Louis closed the distance between them in record time, crouching down beside the bed so that he was face level with Harry, who stayed lying down on his side. He reached up to stroke the younger boy's cheek tenderly, selfishly thankful when the boy didn't flinch away from his touch. Using his thumb to wipe at the tears streaming down Harry's cheeks, Louis tried (and failed) to keep the panicked expression from his face.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? What's wrong, sunshine? Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

"H-He touched me and n-now you don't love me anymore," Harry hiccuped.

Louis's chest tightened with a mix of confusion and panic.

"Haz, no, I love you more than anything, darling. More than anything in this world. What's got you thinking like that all of a sudden?" He brushed the damp curls from the younger boy's forehead, stroking the clammy skin adoringly. "You're so precious, my love, so precious to me."

"But I didn't . . . you wouldn't let me . . ." Harry trailed off, then squeezed his eyes shut again, fresh tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

Realization washed over Louis instantly. "Oh, god, baby. Fuck, I'm an idiot."

"You helped me, and I wanted to help you but you didn't want me to. You didn't want me to touch you because I'm dirty and I'm ruined and I'm --"

Louis cut off Harry's rambling with a firm hand in his hair, tugging lightly on the ends to get the boy's attention. Harry stopped speaking immediately, his sad yet hopeful green eyes meeting Louis's blue ones.

"Christ, Harry. You're in your head, sweetheart, and I understand, but you need to stop listening. Listen to me." He wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrist, then guided the boy's hand to the semi-hard bulge in his sweatpants. "I literally had to have a wank in the bathroom just from those beautiful sounds you gave me, and you already have me like this again. I feel so guilty about it."

Harry's eyes widened. "You did? Why didn't you want me to, um, you know?"

Louis exhaled sharply, tangling his fingers with Harry's and brushing his lips over the back of the boy's hand. "H, I don't want to rush you. I felt like the biggest asshole getting off when you're hurting so badly. I would never expect you to give me anything after that bastard just . . ." He clenched his jaw, then cursed under his breath. Still crouched beside the bed, Louis buried his face in the blanket beside Harry.

Harry's fingers laced into his hair, massaging his scalp gently as he moved to comfort the older boy. "It's okay, Lou. It's okay."

"Fuck, Harry, it's not okay." The thick comforter muffled his voice, and Louis finally raised his head after another minute of silence, during which he tried to compose himself. He gripped his boyfriend's hand more tightly, using his two hands to engulf Harry's larger one completely. "You're going to need time to heal from this, alright? You're not just going to flip a switch and suddenly be okay, and that's okay."