Harry seemed to be everywhere after he and Louis' discussion. At the grocery store, in the school bathroom, even at Burger Girl. Somehow, Louis found himself not loathing his existence.
"Are you coming to the game tonight? It's the last one of the season, you know," Harry asked when he sat down in his seat next to Louis in their 'creative' class, which Stan now referred to it as.
And... oh. It was the last game of the season. Louis had been distracted recently, trying to figure out what Liam and Zayn were planning for his birthday in a few days, that he barely even noticed it was the last day of school before winter break. More specifically, the last Friday, meaning that it was, in fact, the last football game of the school year.
"Oh, I'm not sure. I'll have to ask Liam," Louis replied after a short pause.
"You better be there. I expect to see you cheering me on from your signature spot at the top of the bleachers," Harry joked.
Louis gave a small chuckle in response, not bothering to question how the hell Harry knew they sat up there. Surely he couldn't see them all the way up there from the middle of the field, right? Or maybe Louis was just overthinking. Niall was friends with Liam and Zayn. Right. That's how Harry knew.
Harry and Louis cracked a few jokes throughout class, which had become a common occurrence somehow ever since the November incident, and the end of the day approached quickly.
"I'll see you tonight," Harry affirmed with a wink as he made to leave class. Louis didn't even get to reply before Harry was out the door.
***
"What do you mean you 'can't go'? What are you doing instead?" Louis asked Liam exasperatedly over the phone.
"I mean I can't go, Lou. I have to go to my uncle's house tonight. Ask Zayn, I'm sure he's going," Liam explained. Louis sighed loudly.
"But it'd be weird with just me and Zayn. You're always with us!"
"Well then suck it up, buttercup. Why do you want to go so bad, anyway?"
Louis stilled his fidgeting fingers for a second. He really didn't have a good reason that didn't have anything to do with a certain pesky football player. But if he told Liam that he was going because Harry told him to, then Liam would take it the wrong way.
"Just want to. It's the last game, Li. Can't you reschedule family time? It's, like, the most important game of the year," Louis finally answered.
"No can do. Also, the most important game is-"
"Whatever, Lima Bean. I'll ask Zayn, then, since you're a party-pooper. Have fun at your uncle's," Louis interrupted.
"Whatever, asshole. Don't drool too hard over the football boys."
Louis gagged before hanging up. He sent a text to Zayn, who replied saying he could pick Louis up.
He laid in bed staring at the ceiling for a few more minutes until he got up to take a shower. He stood under the hot water long enough for his fingertips to turn pruny before getting out and running downstairs for dinner.
"Well, hello, Louis. Nice of you to crawl out of your pigsty of a room for once," Lottie greeted as he entered the kitchen.
"Shut up, Lots. I'm a very busy man. Loads of work to do. I require an immense amount of beauty sleep. How do you think I keep my good looks under all the stress of schoolwork?"
Lottie gave him a death glare, only to be interrupted by Jay barging in through the front door carrying four wine bottles. She looked up at Louis and Lottie, who were both glued to their places with their eyebrows raised comically high.
"I needed to stock up. My last bottle seemed to disappear," Jay clarified. Louis pointedly stared at Lottie when Jay had her back turned, and suddenly she found the ceiling very interesting.
When they finally sat down to eat dinner, it was thirty minutes prior to the time Zayn had agreed to pick Louis up.
"I'm going to the game tonight with Zayn," Louis voiced through a mouthful of pasta.
"What about Liam?" Jay asked.
"He's ditching us for his uncle. Said he needs help moving furniture." Louis rolled his eyes.
Jay hummed her acknowledgment while Louis shoveled down the remainder of his pasta.
"Thanks for dinner. I need to get ready," Louis murmured, setting his plate in the sink and hurrying up to his room.
"He's like a teenage girl," he heard Lottie utter to Jay.
"I heard that!" He yelled back. Jay and Lottie laughed in return.
As Louis sort of suspected, Zayn was nearly fifteen minutes late. He pulled on his vans before sprinting down the stairs, slowing his pace when he noticed Lottie staring at him.
"You got a crush on him or something?" She asked with a smirk.
"Ew, Lottie! No! He's just late and I want our rightful seats!" He flung the front door open and closed it behind him before she could tease him any further.
He hopped into the passenger seat of Zayn's car and Zayn sped off the second Louis shut the door.
"And where were you?" Louis interrogated, the wicked amusement obvious in his voice as he eyed the dark red bruise on Zayn's neck.
"Nowhere," Zayn murmured lamely.
"You, my friend, are an awful liar."
They arrived at the school later than they usually did, which meant they were already halfway through the second quarter. Louis followed Zayn up the bleachers to their spot, ignoring the stares they were getting from students in the pit. People probably suspected that they were the stoners of their year, but Louis couldn't care less.
He spotted Niall and Harry conversing on the sidelines. The only reason they could possibly have been benched would be to give the other players a chance. Harry and Niall were the best on the team, no doubt about it. According to the people that paid attention, that was.
Zayn offered Louis a spliff, but he denied it. Zayn audibly gasped.
"Are you alright? Sick? Do I need to take you to the hospital?"
"Nah, just not in the mood. Wanna watch this one sober."
"Whatever you say, man."
It turned out that Louis was wrong about Harry being unable to see him from the field, because right then, Harry looked up at Louis and smiled. He may have thrown in a wink, as well, but Louis couldn't tell.
"And now you're blushing at something. What is your deal? Who do you have your eyes on?" Zayn followed Louis' line of sight to pinpoint who he was looking at. "Not Horan, right? That'd be pretty awkward."
Louis broke away from his stare to look at Zayn.
"No, not Niall. Why would that be awkward, anyway?"
Zayn gawked at Louis as if he had ten heads.
"Guess you'll just have to find out, huh?"
Louis had no idea what that meant. He looked ahead again to catch Harry and Niall walking back onto the field. Harry was pulling his helmet over his head, a little sliver of pale skin poking out from under his jersey as he lifted his arms.
The cheerleaders were doing one of their routines, encouraging the crowd to cheer along as the boys got ready for the play.
Louis was most definitely not staring as Harry got into position.
The whistle went off and Harry darted forward, freeing himself from a cluster of opponents. He twisted his torso as he continued running, catching the ball that was thrown to him. He weaved seamlessly through players as he advanced across the field. He barely skirted a tackle by one of the opposing players, and he flew into the end zone, earning the team six more points right before halftime.
Louis was so concentrated on Harry's play that he was barely aware of the uproar going on in the stands. The touchdown mixed with the fact that it was Harry Styles had the crowd bursting at the seams. Even Zayn was vaguely amused by the chaotic state of their classmates.
The things they chanted throughout halftime were utterly ridiculous, so much so that Louis couldn't stop himself from cackling at a few of them.
Most of the chants were Harry-centric, which caused the boy to turn and face the crowd, thrusting his fist in the air along with them, all the while wearing a face-splitting grin. Louis knew he was imagining the way Harry kept glancing up at him, but his face was warm anyway.
After halftime, the players were even more rowdy, the nerves and determination clear on both teams. They were close; 23-21, their school in the lead. Penalties called left and right, players being benched on both teams. Louis swore he could see the fire spouting from Harry's ears when he got tackled right before he could make a field goal.
Louis couldn't help the relief he felt when their school won 28-25. After all the buildup, it was like a breath of fresh air to see the team celebrating on the field. Zayn and Louis waited until some of the pit calmed and cleared out before beginning their trek back to Zayn's car. They made useless smalltalk on the way. Louis startled when he heard a voice to his left, close to his ear.
"So you did come, huh?" Harry was walking directly behind him. Louis held in his sex joke. He wasn't sure if Harry was one of those straight boys that felt uncomfortable with blowjob jokes coming from other guys, and he didn't really feel like finding out.
"No, I didn't. I'm a hologram, actually."
"Hey, Styles! Good fucking game, holy shit!" Zayn cut in. Harry's smile could have lit the sun.
"Thanks, man!" Harry greeted Zayn with one of those bro-hugs that Louis hated with a passion. He rolled his eyes, but Harry caught him.
"What's'a matter, sweetcheeks? Not a football fan? Or just not a Harry fan?" He asked, his grin morphing into a smirk.
"All of the above," Louis replied dryly as they walked through the gates of the senior parking lot. There were students everywhere, horns honking and music blasting out of car speakers from every direction. It was only a little bit more chaotic than usual, with it being the last game.
"Well, boys, there's a party at mine tonight, and I want both of you there. Sound good?" Harry declared when they neared Zayn's car.
Before Louis could deny Harry the pleasure, Zayn was nodding in confirmation. He held in his eye roll this time.
They both turned to get in Zayn's car before Harry grabbed Louis by the shoulder rather roughly.
"See you there," he whispered into Louis' ear -- possibly a little too friendly -- before spinning on his heels and walking over to his own car. Louis stood there gaping at his retreating figure for a moment before Zayn's voice calling him from inside the car snapped him out of it.
He knew it was going to be a long night when Zayn turned their pregame playlist on for the ride to Harry's house.
***
After stopping at the liquor store to both stall and pick up Zayn's favorite vodka, they arrived at the Styles' residence when the party was in full force. The overall atmosphere was that of a coming-of-age film. Red solo cups littering every nearby surface, sweaty high schoolers crowding the living room, music so loud that partygoers have to shout for the person next to them to be able to hear what they're saying.
Crazy parties were never really Louis' scene. He wore himself out after all those wild freshman parties, back when he was obsessed with how new everything was and how free he felt. But they were still Zayn's thing, and Louis wasn't going to ruin the fun when Zayn pulled him into Harry Styles' monster of a house, bustling with drunk high school students.
Zayn ended up tugging Louis into the kitchen to get drinks a moment later. He poured multiple shots for them while Louis observed his surroundings. There was a couple having a full-on makeout session against the fridge, as well as a group of girls laughing in the corner. They were freshman, and it was clearly their first party, Louis could tell.
They downed three shots each before Louis made himself a vodka cranberry with probably too much vodka. He then followed Zayn back out into the living room. They danced and socialized for nearly an hour, taking multiple trips to the kitchen for more alcohol.
Louis was bordering on wasted by the time he bumped into Harry. As in physically bumped into Harry. Harry, however, was well past wasted. He would most likely not remember he even threw a party when he woke up the next morning.
"My bad, man," Louis shouted over the music. Harry was giggling like a lunatic for some reason, and Louis had a hard time stopping himself from laughing at him. "What's so funny?"
"I don't know!" Harry exclaimed, thoroughly laughing his ass off.
"Harry Styles, you are obliterated," Louis stated. Harry was leaning toward Louis, so much so that Louis had to hold him up by his left shoulder to keep him from knocking them both to the floor.
"Maaaaybe..." Harry bit his lip when Louis looked up at his face, and- they definitely weren't this close a second ago.
Louis held Harry by both shoulders, helping him stand up straight. He clapped his shoulders and let go, assuming that Harry would be able to stand on his own. It turned out that it had been a very poor judgement, because Harry immediately leaned forward again, almost collapsing on top of Louis. Louis didn't have time to grab him by the shoulders, so he found himself wrapping his arms around Harry's half-limp body.
"Harry, how much did you drink?" Louis questioned seriously in Harry's ear. Harry undoubtedly only shivered because he was drunk.
He felt Harry shrug, which obviously meant "too much." Louis began tugging him toward the staircase he'd spotted when he entered the house. Halfway there, Harry turned around in Louis' arms, pressing his back to Louis' front and wrapping one of his own arms around Louis' shoulders. Louis was lugging almost all of Harry's weight at that point.
When they got to the stairs, Louis asked Harry if he could make it up to his room by himself. Harry pouted.
"Piggy-back ride," Harry suggested through his frown. He rubbed his eye with his fist and then held his arms out toward Louis like a child.
Louis scoffed before spinning around and holding his arms out behind him. Harry hopped onto Louis' back, and Louis suddenly remembered that he, too, had consumed an absurd amount of alcohol. He wobbled for a brief moment before catching himself on the stair railing. He felt Harry rest his head atop his own.
"Hold on tight, idiot." He hauled Harry up the stairs, taking twice as long as he would've if he were sober. "Where is your room?"
Harry pointed to a closed door at the end of the hall. Louis carried him over and let him turn the handle himself since Louis' hands were occupied. Harry flipped on a light switch next to the door, illuminating the room in bright yellow light that both boys groaned at. Louis kicked the door closed behind them and carried Harry over to his bed. He turned and backed up against it until his knees hit the edge.
"Hop off," Louis said, shrugging to get Harry's attention. Harry still had his head laying on top of Louis', his cheek pressed against his hair.
"Hm?" Harry hummed, as if he'd fallen asleep during the short walk from the door to the bed.
"Off," Louis repeated, lifting Harry's legs. Harry reluctantly let go of his hold around Louis' neck and Louis released his grip. He fell flat on the bed, long legs hanging off from the knees down. Louis sighed before tugging Harry up the bed until his head was on the pillow. He grasped onto Harry's shoes, lugging them off and tossing them onto the floor. "Move over, you oaf. Get under the covers."
Harry was already half asleep, eyes almost shut but still looking at Louis with a delighted twinkle in them. Louis stopped moving Harry around and rested his hands on his own hips with a huff, scanning the room for a blanket. He spotted one folded up in a basket in the corner and covered Harry's body.
"Tuck me in," Harry ordered. Louis gave him a blank stare.
"Now you're getting ahead of yourself, Styles. Asking way too much of me." But then Harry was pouting again and his eyes were kind of shiny and Louis was too drunk to think about the fact that maybe Harry was a little bit cute.
Louis tucked the blanket tightly around Harry, who hummed his contentment.
"You're so spoiled," Louis grumbled, mostly to himself. Harry heard though, and he narrowed his eyes at him. They were too close again, but Louis was tired and cold and Harry was throwing off warmth like a space heater and he didn't back away.
He couldn't think of an excuse to convince himself that Harry was not staring at his lips. Because he was, and Louis licked his lips right then like it was some sort of instinct and Harry followed the movement. Louis felt entirely sober the second Harry locked eyes with him. If Harry could hear Louis' heart beating out of his chest, he didn't mention it. Louis wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Harry because Harry was cute and nice and cuddly when drunk and he had a pretty smile and curly hair and pink lips. Maybe he was a little endearing.
But Louis didn't kiss him.
Louis cleared his throat and stepped back a few feet, the air between them suddenly cold. Louis couldn't kiss him. He didn't even really like Harry, and as far as he knew, Harry was straight. And very drunk. So much so that he would not remember their moment in the morning, no matter what Louis did.
"Goodnight, Harry," Louis mumbled, turning and walking back toward the door.
"Thank you," Harry blurted when Louis reached for the doorknob. "For... helping me to bed."
"You're welcome," Louis replied. But he had a feeling Harry wasn't just thankful for Louis' help.
Louis left the party with the knowledge that maybe he actually did like Harry Styles, just a little bit. He used to think that the realization would feel like a weight being added to his shoulders, but instead, he felt light as a feather as he sat in the passenger seat of Zayn's car with his head resting against the window.
Something shifted, and Louis was too uneasy to consider what it was.
***
He knew he'd have a hangover the second he agreed to do whiskey shots with Niall and Zayn. Louis had no idea how Niall could drink such a ludicrous amount of alcohol and be fine and dandy the next day. Also, whiskey shots? Who even was he?
Of course, it didn't take long for Louis to replay the entire bedroom moment in his head like a movie. His heart fluttered a bit at the thought of it, but his head pounded and reminded him that he needed pain medication right now right now right now.
Louis moaned and groaned his way to the medicine cabinet, nearly dumping an entire bottle of Advil all over the kitchen tile. He cupped some sink water in his hands and used it to swallow down two pills.
He walked back up to his room, flopping down onto his bed. As if on cue, his phone started ringing.
"Hello?" He answered, not bothering to check the caller ID.
"So Zayn told me you got hammered last night?" Liam probed, a spark of entertainment in his tone.
"Well isn't he a fucking snitch," Louis grunted and rolled over too quickly, causing his head to throb in protest.
"He also told me a slight detail that I need a confirmation on before I totally lose my shit."
Louis hummed as an answer, already knowing what Liam was about to say.
"You and Harry?" Louis rolled his eyes. Of course Liam wanted the whole story so he could ask questions afterwards.
"He's alright, I guess," Louis replied idly, just to piss him off.
"Alright? Unless you were giving a different Harry Styles a piggy-back ride upstairs during a party, it seems like you may think he's a tad bit better than 'alright.'"
"So whatever, Harry's not a total moron. Big whoop."
"Louis, you've hated Harry's guts since the moment you laid eyes on him. Obviously something changed that made you have sex with him completely out of the blue!"
"Woah, woah, woah, who told you that? I did not fuck him. I helped him up to his bed and then left, that's it. Harry's straight," Louis explained.
He heard Liam make a weird noise, then muffled coughing came through from the other line.
"Y'alright?"
"Louis, are you blind? Like actually," Liam was talking to him like he was crazy.
"No, why?"
"Lou, Harry is gay!"
Louis' stomach swooped so hard he almost threw up. What?
"But... what?"
"Don't you remember that kid Alex he dated at, like, the end of freshman year? And then Tony? Sophomore year?"
"They were dating?" Louis asked incredulously.
"So you mean to tell me you never saw him and Tony making out against the lockers every morning?"
Louis' brain was moving at a mile a minute.
"He got a ton of shit for it when he came out, and I never brought it up because I figured you already knew. The whole team called him Princess Harry. Everything calmed down after about a month. You really didn't know?"
He fish-mouthed a few times before snapping it shut.
"I thought he's had girlfriends?" Louis finally choked out after a long moment of processing his thoughts.
"The last and only girlfriend that boy has ever had was in sixth grade. After that, everyone just assumed he'd dated girls all the time when in reality they were just good friends."
"How do you know all this?"
"Niall. Those two talk about each other like they're literal brothers."
Louis hummed. This was... new. How did everyone know but him? Probably because he'd been blocking out all information he'd heard having to do with Harry Styles up until senior year.
Liam said his goodbyes and hung up, leaving Louis to lay in bed and think. Which... was usually not a great idea. He was overthinking everything.
Harry was drunk the night before. Definitely wouldn't remember Louis bringing him to bed. Nor would he remember being centimeters away from kissing Louis, or Louis' heart threatening to explode out of his chest. He couldn't. Him being into boys did not change anything.
He'd always been a charmer. A natural flirt. Everyone always loved him because he was able to make anyone he was talking to feel like they were the most important person in the world. It was a gift, really. Louis was no different than any other person graced with the presence of Harry Styles. So if the butterflies in his stomach and rapid heartbeat could slow down, that'd be nice, thank you very much.
Louis needed food, but he didn't want another interrogation, so he texted Zayn to bring him breakfast so they could eat it in Louis' room. Lazy Saturday it was.
***
He already knew that Harry would not remember their bedroom moment on Friday, so why Louis was a little bit disappointed when nothing changed when they went back to school after break, he didn't know.
Liam and Zayn's surprise for Louis' birthday -- which had been a bunch of clothes and five (ironic) tickets to an Arctic Monkeys concert at the beginning of February -- and Christmas had only kept him occupied for so long, and being back in school was not as good of a distraction as it should've been.
He wasn't exactly sure what it was he wanted. Maybe he just wanted Harry to flirt with him or something. Call him sweetcheeks a few more times. Throw a 'princess' in there somewhere, maybe.
Who was he kidding, Harry would never do that. Harry would most likely never develop any sort of anything for Louis because of their past. Louis fucked that one up big time.
"Lou, did you finish yet?" Harry asked, pulling Louis out of his reverie. Harry and these double entendres were going to be the death of Louis Tomlinson.
"Um... what questions was I supposed to answer?" Louis asked sheepishly, softly. His face was on fire. Harry had to take notice, because his features softened slightly. Louis could tell he was gearing up to ring out Louis' self esteem but backtracked when he realized Louis wasn't just being a shit.
"Just seven and eight, love."
Never mind. That was going to be the death of Louis Tomlinson. Love. He called him love.
Louis' face was definitely the color of the cherry red running shoes Niall was sporting that day, but Harry didn't comment on it. There was also no way that Harry was blushing, as well. It was probably just the temperature in the classroom that was making his cheeks flush pink. The school did pay good money for their heating and air conditioning, after all.