Chapter 10
Louis didn’t think he could ever get used to waking up entangled with Harry Styles. The first dawning realisation he had upon waking was how utterly content he felt. There was no pressing need to get up and do something, none of the bleariness that he associated with getting too little sleep; just warm limbs and curly strands of hair brushing against Louis’ neck and the slow thump of a heartbeat at his back. It wasn’t the first time he had woken up with Harry in his bed; it had happened more than once due simply to the sheer amount of times they had fucked and then collapsed in a sleepy haze afterwards. But that morning was the first time they had curled around each other, the first time Harry’s arms had wrapped around his waist and held tightly to him. The first time Louis could lie there and just breathe, happy to sink into that warm, peaceful oblivion that Harry unconsciously offered.
It didn’t last long; Louis guessed only about five minutes until Harry began to murmur sleepily, the sound vibrating where his lips pressed to Louis’ skin and sending a shiver down his spine. Harry’s long fingers clenched around his waist and he somehow managed to pull him even closer, burying his nose into the curve of Louis’ neck and sighing.
‘Harry?’ Louis asked tentatively. If he was quite honest, he was kind of expecting Harry to pull away. They had become close throughout the past few weeks but that didn’t mean that the other boy was particularly keen on cuddling. In fact, Louis wasn’t sure what his opinion was on cuddling at all. This worry was put to rest when he made to roll out of Harry’s embrace but the other boy groaned a little and held steadfast, limbs curling tightly around Louis’ body like some sort of handsy octopus.
‘Harry,’ He repeated, louder this time.
‘Mmm.’
‘I can’t move.’
‘That was the plan,’ Harry mumbled against his skin, voice rough with sleep. ‘Lou…’
Louis waited for him to continue, but the younger boy had trailed off into silence. ‘Yes?’ He prompted.
Harry only made another sleepy sound and Louis sighed.
‘Alright, just let me – Harry, unhand me, I’m not going anywhere just – there.’ With no small amount of effort he manoeuvred around in Harry’s arms in order to roll over to face the boy. Green eyes blinked blearily at him, startling close to his face, but there was amusement sparkling in their depths too.
He slung one leg over Louis’ as his hand skimmed up the bare skin of Louis’ side to span his ribcage.
‘Hi.’
Louis would be lying if he claimed that the way Harry’s voice sounded in the morning, all hoarse and gravelly, didn’t affect him. He suppressed another shiver.
‘You’re very clingy this morning,’ Louis observed, one hand coming up to curl around Harry’s hip as he ignored the way his stomach was flip-flopping.
A small smile curved those pink lips for a moment before he blinked a few more times, eyes becoming a little clearer, more alert, and the smile died a little. Harry hesitated.
‘Is this… okay? I mean, last night, I didn’t really think about it I just sort of…’
‘No, no, it’s fine.’ Louis was quick to reassure him.
‘I wasn’t sure if it was okay if I used the key but I figured you’d be asleep anyway-’
‘Harry,’ he cut him off, voice firm, ‘I wouldn’t have given it to you if I didn’t want you to use it. Besides… this isn’t, you know, terrible.’
The hesitation in Harry’s expression faded almost instantly and another emotion Louis couldn’t quite decipher stirred behind his eyes. They simply looked at one another for a moment, and Louis felt strangely overwhelmed by the intensity of those green orbs, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling and a flush creeping over his skin. Something swooped behind Louis’ abdomen as Harry brought one hand up to skim over Louis’ cheekbone gently. There was something like fascination in his expression and Louis swallowed hard.
And then, without warning, Harry released Louis to roll across the bed and clamber out of it, somewhat lacking in grace.
Louis was startled at the abrupt change of atmosphere and propped himself up on his elbow, frowning at the other boy. ‘I’m starving,’ Harry said haltingly, by way of explanation.
But his eyes were innocent and he was wearing his trademark grin and though Louis was disconcerted by the change in his demeanour the thought crossed his mind that maybe the other boy really was just hungry. Louis was clearly the one who was having difficulty figuring out what the boundaries of their… relationship were.
Louis affected a nod and rolled out of bed on his side, wandering over to his drawers to pull out an old pair of sweat pants, tugging them on over his boxers. He tried to calm the fluttering in his stomach as he turned back to face Harry, who was still fully-dressed from the night before, hoping that his feelings weren’t written all over his face.
‘Come on then, Styles, breakfast isn’t going to cook itself.’
***
Louis wasn’t sure why he was so unnerved by the entire thing but he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about waking up wrapped around Harry and about the way he had looked at him right before rolling out of bed. Harry had acted completely normal for the rest of the morning, and indeed in the days that followed. There was nothing different in his manner; he was the same cheeky, unfairly adorable, frustratingly sexy boy and it drove Louis absolutely mad. He had trouble settling back into their routine of playful banter and incredible sex without thinking about the softness that had appeared in those eyes; Christ, it had been almost tender. Louis felt certain that Harry would be able to notice his distraction, the way he became easily disarmed under that gaze just as he had when they had first met. But he didn’t mention anything and treated Louis like he always had.
There was one notable difference concerning the younger boy, however; he used the key Louis had given him a lot after that. It seemed that, armed with Louis’ reassurance and the knowledge that it hadn’t gone horribly the first time, he felt a lot more secure simply letting himself into Louis’ flat when he wasn’t there himself. Louis wasn’t sure what his hesitation had been before but it soon became completely normal to come home from work to find Harry sprawled out on his couch, channel surfing idly, or stretched out on his floor going through a pile of his old CDs. There was something quite… easy and settled about it, when he bothered to think the whole thing through.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Louis had decided to skip out on his lecture in favour of returning back to the flat complex to drink tea with Zayn and make fun of his friend’s latest escapades.
They were sitting on Zayn’s couch, tea sitting in front of them on the coffee table and the TV on mute. Louis had always liked being in Zayn’s flat more than his own; he thought that it might have been because he hated the quiet and hated being alone, but in the other boy’s home there always seemed to be music playing or the TV blaring or something that made it feel more welcoming than Louis’ own. Maybe that was why he enjoyed having Harry around so much? It probably had nothing to do with the boy himself. Whatever was going on was more than likely a product of Louis’ own imagination. He liked his privacy, but he supposed he was just more of a people person than anything else.
And Zayn was especially fun to torture.
‘It’s utterly hilarious the way the poor woman talks about you.’
‘Lou, shut up,’ Zayn replied calmly, fingers tapping away at his phone.
‘I’m just saying, you should probably tell her that you don’t usually go for women older than your mum. Unless all this flirting is intentional. In that case, I wish you well in your relationship. Have fun.’
‘Aren’t you supposed to be learning something right about now?’
Louis smiled sweetly, ‘I’d rather be with you, honey bun.’
Zayn rolled his eyes, still not tearing his gaze away from the screen of his Blackberry.
‘Zayn.’
The other boy ignored him.
‘Zaaaaaaaaaaaayn.’
‘What?’ He snapped.
‘I’m just wondering who can possibly be more important than your dearest friend in the whole wide world. Who are you texting?’ Louis replied innocently, nudging Zayn with his shoulder.
Zayn smirked and finally looked up at him.
‘Harry.’
Louis mind went a little bit blank and he stilled. ‘Harry?’ He asked blankly.
‘Harry,’ Zayn affirmed, smirk widening.
‘My Harry?’
The dark-haired boy actually let out snort of laughter at that. ‘Yes, okay, your Harry.’
Louis flushed. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just – you guys have been texting?’
‘Yeah.’ Zayn shrugged, gaze dropping as his phone buzzed in his hand again. ‘He’s actually pretty cool, good catch there Lou.’
‘But… what do you even talk about?’
‘I happen to be an excellent conversationalist, I’ll have you know.’ He sounded rather affronted and Louis shook his head.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Brown eyes rolled ceiling-ward as Zayn reached to set the phone down on the table. ‘Louis, this is ridiculous.’
Louis stared at him blankly.
‘Why don’t you just tell him that you actually like him?’
A choked noise escaped him. ‘What?’ The question came out sounding quite strangled.
‘It’s obvious that you do, and I just don’t get it. You’ve never bothered to hide your feelings about anything so I don’t understand why you would now.’ Zayn shrugged and Louis gaped at him, struggling to find the words to reply.
‘You’re well off, mate,’ He finally managed, voice weak.
‘Look, I’m just saying, it’s going to come pouring out of you eventually so it’s best to do it with a rational mind so that you don’t freak the kid out entirely.’
‘Zayn,’ Louis said, injecting his voice with a little more strength. ‘I’m not – I don’t have feelings for Harry. Not like that.’
Zayn gave him a look that was half irritation, half disgust. ‘Louis, don’t insult me.’
‘I swear!’ He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in a pleading motion. ‘Like, I like him, really I do, but that’s just not… possible.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because these aren’t really normal circumstances; I don’t know if you’ve noticed.’
‘Please,’ Zayn scoffed. ‘I saw you two at dinner on Friday, and that was evidence enough that there is definitely something more going on here.’
Louis shifted uncomfortably on the couch, jamming his hands under his legs to keep himself from fidgeting. A sudden desperation was rising up in his throat.
‘I don’t know how you got the idea in your head, but there’s nothing more than…’
‘What?’ Zayn cut across him. ‘Than casual, completely meaningless and unemotional sex? Come on Louis, I know you better than that.’
Louis shook his head and stood up. ‘I hate to cut this short, but I should probably get home.’
‘To what? A very important episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians? Stop avoiding!’ Zayn insisted, but didn’t move to stop him as he began to walk toward the door.
‘I appreciate the thought, but there’s nothing else going on. I promise.’
Louis wasn’t sure why it felt like a lie; he was being honest, wasn’t he? His mind was racing as he closed the door to Zayn’s face, escaping those accusatory brown eyes.
So he had developed something akin to affection for the boy, he could admit that much to himself as he stepped into the lift. But that didn’t mean anything deeper, or that it was going anywhere. Louis came to the conclusion that it was a little impossible to know Harry and not think he was pretty awesome. In any other circumstance Louis thought that they might have been friends; but the entire thing was entirely too complicated. Harry certainly wouldn’t want it to go any further than it already had; Louis was lucky that he had decided to stick around in the first place. What they had was good, simple, and it would be stupid to mistake it for more than it was. Did he care about Harry? Sure. Did he want to take the boy out on romantic candle-lit dates and snuggle with him while watching crappy reality TV?
…No.
***
Harry didn’t bother to text him that Saturday before he came over, but Louis was still awake anyway, channel surfing absently with his feet propped up on the coffee table. At the now-familiar sound of a key turning in the lock of his front door he turned his head to watch as Harry crept inside. He was evidently trying to be quiet but shut the door normally when he realise Louis was up, straightening and grinning.
Louis had decided since his conversation with Zayn that, in the interest of keeping his friendship (for lack of a better word) with Harry from escalating, he was going to try and act a little less affectionate toward the boy. He had to stop running his hands through that curly head of hair whenever he saw the opportunity, stop finding any excuse to touch Harry, and stop his thoughts from delving too far into the realm of what could be considered ‘romantic’.
He dropped the pretence as soon as Harry turned that grin on him, gazing helplessly at him in return and gesturing for him to join Louis on the couch. ‘You’re a sucker, Tomlinson,’ he thought, ‘absolutely pathetic.’
‘Why are you still up?’ Harry asked, taking off his coat and tossing it over one of the backs of the chairs that sat at the dining table before crossing the room to take a seat next to Louis.
Louis looked at him for a moment, frowning. Something was wrong. He didn’t know how he knew it, but there was something in Harry’s expression, something in the way it had tightened as though in pain as he sat down, but something was wrong. He sat up a little straighter. Harry stilled when he realised Louis wasn’t going to answer the question, but his dimpled grin remained perfectly in place ‘What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?’
He scrutinised him closely. ‘Are you okay?’
Harry looked taken aback at the question, but Louis was sceptical. The slight widening of his eyes and the way his mouth dropped open in confusion looked a little too… rehearsed. ‘What do you mean? I’m fine.’
‘No…’ Louis replied slowly. He sat up fully, running his eyes up and down the length of Harry’s body. ‘There’s something wrong.’
He shook his head, curls falling into his eyes as the grin reappeared and he leaned forward to brush his lips against Louis’. ‘I’m fine,’ He repeated, moving to kiss just under Louis’ jaw, scraping his teeth at the spot a little.
Louis was going soft under the attention, his focus wavering and eyelids fluttering shut. His worry was quickly dissipating and Harry would have gotten away with it, would have had Louis wrapped around his little finger, if Louis hadn’t shifted to move a little closer, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist.
Harry inhaled sharply and his whole body seemed to tense, pausing in his ministrations for a moment. Louis’ eyes opened and it was a testament to his strength of will that he managed to pull away from the younger boy, leaning back to scrutinise his expression once more. He looked almost guilty, but Louis moved past that and could see that he looked a little fragile too; he was definitely paler than usual, and he looked tired and peaked.
‘Harry,’ Louis began firmly. Harry sighed and moved away also, rolling his eyes.
‘Louis, stop. It’s nothing.’
‘Take off your shirt.’
Harry eyes widened again and there was nothing fake about it this time. ‘Seriously, can you just drop it – what are you doing stop it-’
Louis was pulling at the hem of Harry dark blue polo shirt, tugging it up to reveal his naval. His mind was racing; what could be wrong? Was he hurt? Why was he so reluctant to just tell Louis what was wrong?
Harry was trying to extricate Louis’ fingers from the material but Louis held on tightly and their combined yanking only pulled it up further over Harry’s torso. The edge of a mark mottled black and purple peeked out from underneath navy blue and they both stilled, Harry with a sigh and a slackening of his grip.
Louis’ mind had gone completely blank as he lifted the shirt over Harry’s head, more gently this time. Harry had seemingly given up, and let him do it willingly. But he wouldn’t meet Louis’ gaze and so Louis dropped his eyes to his chest, tension coiled tight in his stomach.
A rainbow of bruises snaked their way across Harry’s chest and down his sides, raised and mottled and painful-looking, stark against his pale skin. Louis looked desperately for some inch of him that wasn’t marked up, something he could focus on to stop the venom that was suddenly spiking in his bloodstream and making his head cloudy. He took a deep breath, reaching out to trail a finger lightly over the bruised skin, glancing back up at Harry’s face.
‘Who did this?’ His voice was almost unrecognisable, low and laced with tightly controlled anger.
Harry remained silent, his gaze trained on Louis’ carpet, expression carefully blank.
‘Harry. Look at me. Was it the same guy from a few weeks ago?’
Nothing.
‘Harry.’ His gaze snapped up to meet Louis’ at the harsh tone of his voice, the rage there. Louis felt a little out of control, his heart pounding in his ears.
‘Yeah.’ His voice was quieter than Louis had ever heard it, and it was that more than anything that had Louis jumping up and beginning to pace up and down. He was restless and furious and he was on the verge of losing all restraint.
‘You’re telling me that you still kept seeing him after that?’
‘Louis-’
‘Because that’s really fucking stupid, Harry! If someone fucking injures you then you stop seeing them. I’m going to say it’s safe to assume that these weren’t the first couple of times either. Fuck, it’s basic– why would you keep doing it?!’
‘It’s not that simple,’ Harry said hotly, eyes dark. ‘You don’t understand.’
‘I don’t understand?’ Louis cried, stopping his continuous movement back and forth across the carpet. ‘Are you serious? That’s what you’re going to go with? You’re not an idiot, Harry, fucking hell!’ Louis ran his hands through his hair in frustration. ‘What is wrong with you?!’
Harry stood up too, anger darkening his features rapidly. ‘It’s really none of your business what I do with my life.’
‘Harry!’ Louis voice was bordering on hysterical. ‘Are you kidding me? Fuck, I care about you, you stupid twat, I care if someone is hitting you hard enough to bruise. Of course it’s my business.’
Harry fell silent but continued to glower.
‘Stop fucking him.’
At that, his expression twisted and he spluttered indignantly. ‘You have absolutely no say in who I sleep with! You don’t know anything about me.’
‘I’m trying!’ Louis took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. Fuck, his hands were shaking. ‘Look, I know I’m not exactly the authority in your life or anything, alright? I know I have no say in what you do or who you see. I do know that. But I do care about you, that has to be obvious by now. And I suppose I… liked feeling like whatever this is was real, like we actually had something resembling a normal relationship. And I think I’ve been pretty good so far, I haven’t judged you, or questioned you or, fuck, even mentioned it, but this? I can’t handle this. I can’t just smile at you and pretend it’s all good or like I don’t care and it isn’t fair for you to expect me to. I hate it; I hate the thought of you with these random guys who don’t even care if they hurt you. I hate smelling them on your skin and imagining their hands on you and seeing you like this? I could probably murder the person that did it without feeling any guilt or regret.’ He fell silent, breathing harshly, a little stunned at what had escaped him.
Harry didn’t look angry anymore. He just looked sad, somehow, resigned, and that was even worse. Louis’ heart gave a pathetic little lurch in his chest.
‘I was sixteen when I moved to London,’ Harry said quietly. Louis frowned, confused, but stayed silent. ‘And I was scared, and alone, and desperate. My mum was dead, and my sister left, and I just. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stay with my step-dad; it just wasn’t an option for me. I hated him, and he hated me, so I left too. I came here.’ He looked up at Louis, green eyes boring into his. ‘It just happened. I had some vague dream that I was going to, I don’t know, become a singer and everything would be perfect and it wouldn’t hurt so badly anymore. But it wasn’t that easy. I ran out of money, and then one night it just sort of… happened. I was so, so desperate, Louis.’
Louis could imagine him, young and alone and completely innocent and an odd protectiveness surged through him.
‘I was good at it too. I’d always been good at charming people, at telling them what they wanted to hear, and I figured it was sort of an extension of that. And it was alright, it’s been alright, really. I met Liam and Niall and it got better. And because I’m young and I’m good at what I do, it’s usually fine. There are people who are almost… kind. They treat me well because I give them what they want. And I don’t mind. I never minded. Sometimes it gets a little out of control but I know that and I know how to take care of myself. I’m not unhappy, Louis, and I don’t need your pity or your help.’
‘It’s not pity,’ Louis managed, struck speechless by everything Harry had told him.
Harry smiled sadly. ‘You’re nice. You’re honestly a nice guy. And I’m obviously not hanging around for your money. But maybe it’s best if we just… stop here. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, Louis. I don’t like that I’ve complicated things.’
‘Harry,’ He said pleadingly, frowning at the turn the conversation had taken.
‘Don’t look at me like that; you know it had to happen eventually. And maybe it’s better this way. Before everything gets too intense and big and important.’
‘You’re already important,’ Louis confessed, and he knew even as he said it that it was the absolute truth. He reached out to touch the boy’s shoulder, where his skin was unmarred and smooth, and took a few steps closer so that he could feel the heat of his body. With his words the entire room had become charged with something else. There was another layer there entirely, heavy and significant.
He took a shaky breath. The weight of the moment struck him, and it felt like his skin was buzzing with it. Louis wasn’t sure quite what he was feeling, but he knew that it made his pulse race and that it was bigger, more important, than anything he’d felt in his life.
Harry had let Louis reel him in, watching him with wary eyes. ‘Louis,’ He said softly, in that deep, raspy voice of his. Louis shook his head, his other hand coming up to cradle Harry’s jaw. He closed his eyes so that he didn’t do something embarrassing like fall because his knees were weak and he’d never quite been able to handle looking into Harry’s big, bright eyes.
‘Please stop,’ He heard Harry breathe, but he felt long fingers clutching at his shirt front and pulling him closer at the same time.
‘I can’t,’ Louis managed in a strangled voice. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to; he had lost control of his mind and his limbs and it didn’t even bother him as long as Harry was there. He stroked his fingertips down Harry’s cheekbone and opened his eyes again. They were startlingly close now, and there was something nervous and raw in those eyes, something that made Louis feel completely incapable and a little awed.
‘Please tell me to leave,’ Harry tried again. ‘I shouldn’t be here.’
Louis’ only response was to lean forward and seal their lips together, because he’d be a fool not to kiss Harry in that moment. His stomach flipped, like it always did when he felt the softness of those lips against his own, and he dragged his hands up to bury them in Harry’s hair, cradling his skull, and tug him forward. But gently, so so gently. He kissed him slowly and deeply, brushing his tongue with his own and tilting his head back. Harry let him, making a small, satisfied noise in his throat that went straight down to coil in the pit of Louis’ stomach. His nose was brushing Harry’s cheek and Harry’s hands were coming up to settle at Louis’ hips and Louis kind of wanted to smile against his lips but he didn’t want to ruin the moment, break the spell they both seemed to be under. Everything still felt on edge, tentative and uncertain. Louis himself was on edge, skin prickling hotly and hands trembling a little with the need that was quickly overtaking him.
He didn’t think he’d ever been as gentle with someone as he was that night. He was frightened of hurting the younger boy, yeah, of touching him too roughly where he was injured and of making the pain even worse, but there it was more than that. Everything about it was delicate, and he felt as though if he was too rough or tugged on Harry’s hair too hard or bit down on his skin everything would shatter. Louis took his time making sure that Harry was ready; sliding his fingers in and out of him until the boy was writhing against his sheets, hair flopping in a sort of halo around his head against Louis’ pillow. He skimmed his fingers and his tongue over every inch of him, sure to kiss him often and well so that Harry made little mewling sounds against his lips and wriggled his hips.
And when he pushed inside him, into the tight heat of him, Louis had made sure to lock his gaze onto those intense green eyes, onto the fire there, and kiss him again, opened mouthed and messy.
Louis was rocking into him, brushing against the boy’s prostate with every thrust until Harry was whispering a frenzied litany of ‘louislouislouis’ and they were breathing into each other’s mouths, foreheads touching. Louis had one hand hooked under Harry’s thigh to steady himself and the other was stroking the curve of his neck, the fevered skin there.
He was at the edge, the heat in the pit of his stomach coiled and the need for release pulsing under his skin but he held on, continuing his slow, deliberate rhythm until Harry was coming with a strangled cry, his whole body tensing and muscles clenching around Louis until he couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He came muffling his cry in Harry’s shoulder, stars appearing behind his eyelids and a wave of pleasure overtaking him.
When he came down from his orgasm, it was to find his face buried in Harry’s neck. He kissed him softly there as Harry brushed his palms down Louis’ spine.
He pulled out and Harry whined softly. Discarding the condom over the edge of the bed, Louis wrapped his arms around the younger boy, pulling him closer but careful not to hurt him.
There wasn’t anything to say, Louis felt as though, in that case, actions spoke much louder than words. He wasn’t ready to let go of this, to let go of Harry yet. He didn’t want to think about what that meant just yet, about the possibility of Zayn actually being right for once, but at least he could be sure that whatever he felt for Harry Styles clearly went beyond affection.
He fell asleep to the reassuring thump of his own heart, breathing in the scent of the other boy’s skin and perfectly content.
***
When he woke up five hours later Harry wasn’t there, the other side of the bed empty and the sheets cold.