Day four of the trip arrives bright and early and Harry pulls his duvet higher, sinking himself lower into his bed. There's no activity this morning but he is already mentally preparing himself for today's dance session in the afternoon. He wants to take advantage of the relaxed, easy paced morning, so he takes his time getting ready. The moment Harry hears Louis start to wake up, he is taken back to last night. He remembers the thoughts that went through his head and though he tries to shake them, it proves a little difficult. Sometimes epiphanies aren't all they're cracked up to be.
After he feels partially ready for social interaction, he heads down to the main hall for breakfast, grabbing a bowl of cereal and a banana and sitting down next to Niall. They chat casually about how they slept, and Niall's dream, which was about him shaving his hair off and tattooing his scalp with a picture of Zayn.
"Niall, I'd usually tell you to go with your heart and do what you want to do, but I would be lying if I said that to you right now," He laughs, "I think you've been spending too much time together with Zayn, and this dorm sharing is getting to your head. Literally."
They both joke around as they eat their breakfast, munching quietly as they both take time to wake up fully. When Harry is finished, he heads out of the canteen and towards his dorm block. On his way to the corridor, he spots Zayn, and Louis flashes in his mind again. He has to say something. If he doesn't, he'll probably burst.
"I need to talk to you," He says quietly, "Like, now."
"What's up?" Zayn inquires, baffled.
"Just come with me, I need to say this in private," Harry replies, pulling him by the arm into the nearest empty rehearsal room. It's fairly small, but it's good for this conversation. He can't keep this a secret for the whole trip. Especially from Zayn. It will eat him alive.
"Harry, what's going on? You're making me nervous."
"I think I like Louis." He says it very quickly and it's almost a whisper, but it makes Zayn stop in his tracks.
"Like as in... as a person or-"
"No, like, like like."
"You like him?"
"Yes, Zayn!"
"I fucking knew it!" Zayn exclaims, and Harry shushes him frantically.
"No one can know about this, okay? No. One."
"Promise. Shit, that's.... That's something."
"I think I'm in deep shit. I don't know what to do. He can't fucking find out, though, can he?"
"Wait, so how did you realise? Was it our conversation about him on the first day?"
"No..? I- It's too many things," He starts, but then he remembers he has to consider Louis here. There are some things that aren't his to share and should stay between the two of them and he thinks last night is one of those things. He tries to steer the conversation so he won't have to provide details, so he doesn't have to say that it was Louis flirting with him, his breath on his neck, his eyes pinning him in place. "I'm scared he's going to realise, and I can't let that happen! He'll tell his friends and you know what they are like!"
"Homophobic as fuck? Yeah, it's not looking too good. I have to say, I'm not exactly agreeing with your taste here. Yeah, he's hot, obviously, but he treats you like shit on the bottom of his shoe. How are you attracted to him when he yells at you and blames you for literally everything?"
"No, it's- he's been... he's been different this trip. We haven't become, like, best friends or anything, but he hasn't been completely mean to me the entire time. He's shown a different side to him and it seems genuine. I don't want to sound delusional, but he's not going to show that side towards me in front of anyone else so I can't prove it to you."
"I believe you, Harry, I do. I'm just going to warn you to be careful. You're in a close space with him for all of this week. Don't fall too hard for his nice side because if he's not mature enough to be nice to you in front of others, you know his usual side will crush you even more."
"I know it will. I'll be careful, I swear."
"Don't let him fuck you over, okay? Even if he doesn't know, even if he never does, don't let him do that to you."
***
Harry's body feels like it's burning and he feels like all his limbs are about to fall off. Dance shouldn't require this much cardio, in his opinion. He knows it has to, he'd just rather it didn't.
He's just extremely thankful he's been partnered with Liam for these exercises, because to him, three hours of cardio feels like a light jog in the breeze of a summer's evening. Now, Harry's not completely useless at exercise, but this is hardcore. He knows it's a make or break for most people in this industry, and he's determined to not let it break him. His tank top is drenched in sweat, and he made the rookie mistake of wearing light grey.
"You're doing great, mate. Just ten more bicycle crunches and then you can take a breather."
He can do ten more. He shakes his body out to release tension and gets straight back into it, pushing through the ache that's taking over his whole body. Time has never felt so long, but he finally reaches the last one and immediately collapses into a heap of limbs and sweat on the floor.
"You did it!" Liam cheers, leaning down to pat Harry on the shoulder as Harry's groans of exhaustion echo in room.
He eventually scrambles to his feet to grab his drink from the windowsill a few feet away. He chugs the water like he's been stranded in the desert for months and doesn't fully breathe until he's consumed every last drop.
"Woah, slow down!" Liam warns with a laugh, watching the water disappear rapidly. "That will make you feel worse!"
"You wouldn't let me drink until I'd finished the entire routine!"
"And wasn't it great motivation?" Liam raises a brow and Harry nods reluctantly with a knowing smile, still trying to catch his breath. "If you take too many breaks for too long, it will just be harder for you. You know I'd never do it if I thought it was going to cause you any actual harm. All you needed was a little boost."
Does Liam realise how sweet he is? Harry hopes so.
"And now it's your turn," Harry smirks, and Liam gets to the floor without protest. It actually surprises him how willing Liam is to do this, but then he looks at Liam's muscles and that surprise fades quite quickly. Liam is shredded, Harry has to give him respect for it. He places a foot either side of Liam's hips for the first core exercise.
"You can't have your hand that high, I'll never be able to reach that!" Liam protests.
"Alright," Harry sighs, moving his hand down a fraction of an inch. Liam reaches up to slap his hand away out of frustration, but accepts the challenge anyway.
As Liam does his sit ups, high fiving Harry on every lift up, Harry feels eyes on him. He chances a glance over in that direction and sees Louis looking right at him. As soon as they make eye contact, Louis darts his eyes away.
Harry's attention goes back to Liam, but he can't help but risk another look over. Louis' eyes are back on him. Is Louis actually bitter that he and Liam are paired together? What does he think is going to happen?
Liam finishes his reps and switches places with Harry again, but before Harry goes to the floor, he beckons Liam closer.
"What is his problem?" He nods in Louis' direction as he can and Liam looks over, which does not help his hope of subtlety in the slightest.
"Louis?" Liam whispers, and Harry nods. "What do you mean?"
"Have you not seen him constantly looking over?"
"No?" Liam says, puzzled. "But I wouldn't pay him any attention. I know I'm his mate but I try not to get involved with yours and his business. I have no idea what it's all about."
"You don't?" Harry asks, genuinely confused, and Liam shakes his head sincerely. "Well that makes two of us," He adds. Liam's response doesn't really satisfy him but he decides to let it slide. Honestly, he finds it a bit odd that Liam has this view on it.
They carry on with the task at hand, Harry high fiving Liam and definitely not trying to see if Louis is still watching them in his peripheral vision. Thankfully, the teacher calls out to the class and pulls him out of the swarm of questions flooding his mind.
As it turns out, the session isn't so much dance as it is movement, but Harry doesn't mind too much because his limbs feel far too floppy to do an actual dance routine. At least he knows he'll sleep well tonight.
The cooldown feels amazing, every muscle in his body relaxing as he stretches and leans.
Louis still refuses to wipe the dirty look off his face, but it looks forced, like when he found out Harry was coming on the trip. Harry doesn't know why he does that face, or why he's doing it now. It all seems completely unnecessary. Just be angry when you're angry, why force it?
Harry is trying his hardest not to catch Louis' eye; he might get slaughtered if he gets caught staring now.
Louis' expression is indecipherable, and Harry wishes he could just peek inside his brain for a second and see what the hell is happening right now. Has Harry done something without knowing it? Louis never looks at him like this, it's... new. Good or bad, Harry isn't sure, and he isn't too eager to find out. Could it be about last night? If this is Louis' reaction to that, Harry should just start planning his funeral now.
When they are eventually excused, Louis speeds off, determined to get away from Harry even though they are headed in the exact same direction. He has no idea what Louis is trying to achieve. He doesn't try to catch up, he doesn't want to make it worse, whatever it is that's happening. He racks his brain for anything that could have been said or done from the dorm to the dance class, but they've barely spoken. He analyses Louis' reaction to last night, but he still doesn't think it warrants a response like this. Maybe Louis thought about it just as much as Harry, but not in a good way.
Reaching the dorm, Harry keeps his head down, closing the door as quietly as possible, scared to make eye contact in case he gets his head ripped off. It seems highly likely at this moment.
Louis keeps looking in his direction subtly, darting his eyes away as quickly as they're on him. He shouldn't find Louis being angry (he thinks that's what it is) so attractive, especially when he is reacting like this for that exact reason. It's not a smart move when you're notoriously known for despising each other.
He's not entirely sure how to handle this situation, but he's not about to let it disrupt his plans. He's sweaty and gross and he doesn't want to go to dinner like this.
"Do you want to shower first or should I?" The words feel uncomfortably loud and abrupt, even though he knows they aren't. Louis' head spins to face him immediately and he can tell something is definitely wrong from Louis' response:
"Uh, you can go in first."
What has come over him? Is he ill? Does he need medical attention?
Harry's response isn't very gathered when he mutters, "Oh, okay, uh...thanks," and nods, heading towards the bathroom. He pulls his tank top up over his head before grabbing a towel and closing the door behind him, taking one last look at Louis' tense figure.
Maybe he just needs some space, a bit of time alone. Harry doesn't rush his shower in the hopes that Louis might have chilled the fuck out, at least a little bit, by the time he gets out.
There's so many possible explanations and he doesn't know which one is true, or even the most likely. All Harry knows is he will probably need to put everything he's ever learned in acting lessons to use right now. He senses a confrontation and he cannot show Louis how he really feels, cannot give it away.
He's so wrapped up in thought that he forgets he didn't bring any clothes into the bathroom with him to get changed into. Of fucking course. He turns the water off and steps out of the shower, drying himself a little before wrapping the towel around his waist, keeping it in place with one hand as he opens the door and heads straight for his suitcase.
"Forgot to grab clothes, don't mind me." He smiles awkwardly, swooping down to grab the nearest items and looking up at Louis who's now frozen, looking straight back at him. Not into his eyes at first, though. He's probably in shock, not expecting his enemy-slash-roommate to appear out of the shower in nothing but a towel, especially when he's brought his clothes in with him every other time. This is a new sight for Louis and Harry suddenly feels very exposed. He's stood back up and in the bathroom within seconds, a little embarrassed and unsure of how to approach things when he goes back out.
He sort of expected Louis to turn away when he saw him, but he's cutting him slack given how weird he's been acting since the dance session. He doesn't really know what to expect from Louis anymore, he's becoming more unpredictable by the minute. He eventually re-enters the room, fully clothed, dry and hungry.
"Showers free, I'm going to head down to dinner."
Louis nods, not looking at him, and Harry can't believe he's about to ask this. He's only concerned about the room's key and the automatic lock on the door, and nothing else.
"Do you want me to wait for you?"
Louis' head shoots up and Harry instantly regrets asking it, fumbling to give his reasoning, but he doesn't have much time to dwell on it because Louis' immediate interruption of "No" tells him loud and clear.
Louis clears his throat to repeat his answer a little less suddenly, walking towards the bathroom as he says "Uh, no. You go. The door thing will be fine."
Harry nods quickly and turns on his heel towards the door, motioning a civil goodbye.
Louis doesn't turn up on time for dinner.
He doesn't turn up at all, actually.
Harry's not sure when this became a thing that he does but he's feeling a bit concerned for Louis.
Not, like, incredibly so. But maybe just a little.
He eats without saying much to anyone, pretending he's not watching the door for a Louis-shaped figure to walk through it at any moment, trying to engage in conversation with people from his group and only half succeeding. They were saying something about the pasta being served, and it was either good or it wasn't. Okay, he wasn't listening.
He's not one to eagerly run to Louis but this needs to be sorted because he's not living with this for the rest of the week, so he sets off as soon as is socially acceptable and not suspicious.
The door is unlocked. He's still in the room.
Louis is sorting out one of his bags on the table, shuffling things around before zipping it up and lobbing it on the floor by their beds. Some of the tension he was previously holding seems to have been released, which Harry takes as a good sign.
"Why didn't you come to dinner?" Harry asks, as off-handed as he can manage. Not like he's been wondering about it for the past however long.
"Wasn't hungry."
Now, Harry would usually understand that and leave it be, but he can tell it was an obvious lie by the way he said it. If Louis won't say anything, Harry needs to.
"Do you want the curtains closed? It's getting dark outside."
Of all the things he could have said, why on Earth did he choose that? Still, it's better than nothing.
"Oh," Louis' voice is surprisingly shaky, as if shocked at the sound of Harry's voice, "Uh, yeah, I'll do it."
He goes over to the curtain in a rushed fashion, like he's looking for a distraction.
Okay, this is getting stupid now. Harry's just going to get it out there.
"Are you okay?"
The words feel weird leaving his lips, and he has no idea how Louis will react. He's never asked him that before.
Louis' hand drops from the curtain, and Harry's stomach does a full gymnastics routine. He turns around hesitantly, eyes meeting Harry's before he looks him up and down.
"Yeah," Louis says, voice restrained. He's holding his bottom lip tight in his teeth as he looks at Harry, gulping as he looks to the floor. "I... I'm fine."
He can't think this is going well for him.
"You don't look fine."
Louis sinks his teeth further into his bottom lip. Something that looked like defeat shines in his eyes, though he'd never actually give in. If Harry knew what he would even be giving in to, this would be a lot easier.
After yet another glance that Louis must have thought Harry didn't see and his expression that followed, he figures he must actually be the problem, but not in the way he originally thought.
The only outcome he hadn't considered.
He can't actually... can he? It doesn't make the slightest bit of sense, but then he thinks back through today's events and last night and... fuck.
He can't just let that realisation slide, not when this is what it has come to.
"If you want something from me, just say it."
Fuck, he probably could have let it slide. But it's out there now, no matter the reaction.
"I-" Louis stutters, voice distant, and Harry feels a jolt in his stomach.
"You..." Harry pushes, raising an eyebrow.
"Forget it, no," Louis shakes his head dismissively, beginning to walk off.
"Wait- no, please." Harry rushes, and no, that is not how this was meant to go. Is he actually begging Louis right now?
"What?" Louis raises a brow as he slowly turns back around, seeming more intrigued by the words than scared of them.
"I mean-" Harry is the one to stutter now. Fuck. What has he got himself into.
Louis moves closer slowly, eyes still completely fixed on Harry. Harry subconsciously moves backwards, before he clocks it and slows his movements.
So this is happening.
"Tell me to stop," Louis breathes, inching closer, and the words sound genuine which makes Harry a little weak. His feet are planted now, his eyes never straying from Louis'. They are inches apart now and he can feel the warmth of Louis' breath on his cheek.
"No." Harry says adamantly, though the word is only just loud enough for Louis to hear.
A moment passed between them, Louis' eyes growing more determined and Harry not backing down.
Then Louis walks him backwards, palm on his chest until he's pressed against the wall, and then Louis' lips are on his, firm and confident.
His brain immediately clicks into gear again as he kisses Louis back, hesitant at first, but after noting Louis' passion, Harry reciprocates it.
His lips are soft, but the pressure of them against his own sends a wave of heat rushing through his entire body. Louis' hand slides up Harry's chest and settles by his collarbone, his other hand curling around the back of Harry's neck to bring him closer. It all feels so much better than it should, and Harry feels like drowning in his rosy lips and shallow breaths.
Harry's arm snakes around to Louis' waist as he pulls their bodies flush, Louis letting out a pleased hum at that. He keeps Harry against the wall with his thigh and hips pressed against his own, before disconnecting their lips to trail wet kisses down the side of Harry's neck.
"I- Are you sure we-" Harry stutters between breaths, Louis kissing him so hard that he struggles to get his words out.
"Do you want this?" Louis breathes, his tone softer than usual, like he's expecting Harry's answer to go either way, but his voice is still a little rough. It's unbelievably hot.
"I do, God I do, I just-"
"Then shut up. Listen to your own advice and just fucking go with it, okay?"
"Okay."
Louis latches his lips back onto Harry's, pushing his middle to Harry's and humming into his mouth. Those noises are going to drive Harry crazy, he can see it now.
Harry isn't sure what Louis likes, but he thinks he's about to find out. He pushes the fabric of Louis' shirt up his stomach, revealing a toned set of tanned abs. Fucking sports course and fucking dance never let Harry stand a chance. Louis helps him, throwing it over his shoulder while trying to keep his lips attached to Harry's. Louis' hands slide up under the fabric of Harry's shirt, taking it with him as he lifts it over Harry's head. Then Harry grips his hips and spins him, pushing him gently against the wall.
"Wanna hear those gorgeous fucking moans," He whispers against his neck, sliding his hands down his torso and thumbing the waistband of Louis' joggers.
"Fuck, you don't hesitate, do you?" He says breathily.
"Do you want me to?" Harry teases, holding him by his hips and leading him towards his bed.
"God, yes," Louis gets out, following him blindly as he resumes his kisses on Harry's neck. Harry lays him down and slides a hand up his thigh, and the reaction he gets from that makes this seem like the opposite of a bad idea.