A/N: Sorry it's a little short, bit of a filler chapter again. Bigger ones coming soon. Flashback things are in italic. Enjoy :) <3
Harry Styles was sat at the breakfast table. His surroundings were fairly unfamiliar to him, he knew that he was at Louis’ place, but if he hadn’t have known that, he would have had no idea as to where he was. He was up absurdly early, for some reason. A pale sunlight filled the apartment through the closed curtains and blinds, and there was the faint smell of cologne in the air, for some reason. Harry would have slept longer, but he was far too hungover to do anything, and plus, even if he could sleep, he’d had to block out the drunken snores that were coming from Louis Tomlinson. Normally, Harry’s hangovers weren’t that bad, but he hadn’t had one as bad as this since his uni days. He sighed once again and rubbed his head for a moment, before looking towards the window again. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the brightness.
He was trying to remember something that happened last night. For some reason, Harry’s gut was telling him that he had done something wrong, but the hangover wasn’t helping to make Harry realise what this was. He knew that he and Lou had been out on the bar crawl, and that they were out till late. He also realised that both boys woke up in the small double bed in their boxers. Had they done something? But then again, Harry had a reputation of getting naked when he was drunk…or sober, for that matter, so he doubted anything would have happened with Louis. Wait, am I seriously thinking that I had sex with Louis? Another man? Harry couldn’t help but think to himself, realising that for a quick second there, he was cool with the idea of having sex with another guy. He wasn’t okay with it now, his inner awkwardness was building within him, and he found himself squirming slightly, trying to distract himself from any thoughts like that. He looked across the room, in an attempt to distract himself. He suddenly found a banana lying in the corner of the room. He would get up and go over to it, but his banging headache was telling him that if he moved, he’d fall over in a dizzy state, so Harry didn’t attempt it. The feeling that he had done something wrong came over him again, and Harry shivered slightly, the bare skin that wasn’t covered by either his black boxers and loose white T-shirt burst into goosebumps. What the hell had he done last night?
The sound of Louis’ feet padding slowly across the laminate floor made Harry look up and at his friend. Louis looked fucking rough, Harry thought to himself as he sent a small smile towards his friends.
“Why the hell are you up this early?” Louis asked suddenly, plodding over to the table and sitting next to Harry, his duvet wrapped around him. He looked like some sort of duvet monster; his eyes were red, showing his lack of sleep, his light brown hair a mess.
“I couldn’t sleep…you kept hogging the duvet…and snoring.” Harry told him, before breaking out into a yawn. Louis smiled a little, before looking over at Harry seriously.
“We need to talk…” Louis started, his voice sounding fairly quiet. Harry looked up at him immediately. He knew that something wasn’t quite right, was Louis going to tell him what had happened?
“I knew something bad had happened, what did I do? Did I get arrested?” Harry asked quickly, and watched as Louis pulled a face.
“Oh God, what did I do? Louis, I can tell by your face…” Harry rambled, and Louis quickly shushed him.
“It’s not something you did, it’s something you said…” Louis said, and Harry looked at him with despair in his green eyes. He knew what was coming, he’d opened his big, drunken mouth about Zayn.
“It sounds like you really like him, Hazz. Why don’t you tell the truth? Maybe he’ll like you back.” Louis asked with a smile.
“Because I’m his English teacher, I’m supposed to tell him his grade, not my feelings.” Harry blurted out, and Louis looked down at him in shock. There was a silence between the two boys. Harry simply closed his eyes and chuckled again, unaware that Louis was looking at him gone out.
“You like Zayn Malik?” Louis coughed out, sounding like he was choking. Harry opened his eyes sadly.
“I don’t know. When I think that I do like him, I feel like I don’t. But when I tell myself I don’t, I feel like I do. Like,” Harry started to explain, sitting up, and manoeuvring himself so he was sat facing Lou, his back leant against the wall. If he weren’t as drunk, or more concentrated on Zayn Malik, he would have noticed how cold the wall felt on his back.
“Harry…are you seriously trying to tell me that you think you are in love with Zayn Malik? The most worst behaved student in the sixth form? A student!” Louis burst out, and Harry looked at him with a shrug.
“I could never be with him…I don’t think I’m his type.” Harry mumbled, alcohol still present in his words. Louis rolled his eyes.
“You could never be with him because he’s a student, and that’s kind of illegal. Who else have you told about this?” Louis asked, feeling as if he was sobering up, because of this conversation. Harry shook his head.
“No one, I don’t even know if I like him, Louis.” Harry moaned, putting his head back against the wall, closing his eyes in confusion as he did so. Louis looked at him for a moment in concern for his friend.
“I think you like him, Harry.” Louis finally spoke, and Harry looked at him, in need of some sort of assurance about his feelings.
“But you shouldn’t, you can’t. You’ve only just got this job, you’ve made such a good impression on your students and the other teachers, you know? You shouldn’t go any further in this. It’s not good.” Louis advised him, and Harry looked down at his feet with a down pointing smile and sad eyes.
“What if for some crazy reason he liked you, and you did something and got caught? You’re 21 and that’s God knows how many years in prison, a criminal record, never being able to teach again, and I don’t want to lose you as my friend, Hazza.” Louis went on, and Harry knew he was right. He nodded, ruffling his hands through his hair. He looked at his friend woefully, knowing he was too emotional to speak, probably due to the alcohol, and put his hands out. Louis slowly got up and pulled Harry up and into the bed.
“C’mon, my Hazz. Don’t be sad.” Louis cooed, as he gave his friend a big cuddle, Harry burying his head in the crook of Louis’ neck.
“Don’t be sad.” Louis whispered, gently rubbing circles into Harry’s back. Harry mumbled a few more words, drunkenly, before he fell asleep in Louis’ arms.
Harry listened to the whole story that Louis poured out, and looked at him absolutely bewildered. Had he really poured all of that out to Louis? He felt so embarrassed; he was never going to let himself get as drunk like that again, if this is what happened.
“Louis, you’ve got to listen to me,” Harry started desperately, wanting to give Louis a more sober version of the story, but Louis shook his head and shushed him.
“I can tell you like him, and drunk minds speak sober thoughts. I know last night was probably a more drunken, over exaggerated version, but there’s no denying it, Harry. You like Zayn.” Louis told him, and deep down, something inside of Harry told him that he was right.
“I don’t know, Louis. He’s a student, I can’t fancy him…I don’t fancy him…it’s just, a mutual connection, you know?” Harry asked, even though he was producing utter word vomit. This really wasn’t helping the hangover much.
“Harry, I don’t care whether you like him or not, it’s illegal. Like I said last night, even though you probably don’t remember, the amount of trouble you could get in for a quick fling with a student is not worth it.” Louis said, before giving a defiant nod towards Harry, and getting up off the chair. Harry nodded, knowing that Louis was right. Whether he liked Zayn Malik or not, there was no way in Hell that anything was going to happen. It couldn’t, and it wouldn’t, he thought to himself, before watching Louis walk over into a kitchen. Harry had one last burning question, and got onto his feet and plodded after his friend. He walked into the kitchen, where Louis was putting the kettle on, still wrapped up in his duvet.
“Lou?” Harry asked, quietly. Louis looked up towards him.
“You…you won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” Harry asked, nervous all of a sudden. Louis smiled warmly and shook his head.
“Of course not,”
“Even El?” Harry interrupted again. Louis let out a small laugh.
“Even El. She can’t keep a secret for £100.” Louis chuckled, and both boys exchanged a warm smile, Harry’s expressing his thanks, before Louis pulled out the Yorkshire Tea bags.