Bzzzzz. Harry heard his phone vibrate with a text. "Liam, you ass, don't text me from across the room?" he said, shooting Liam a silly look. "Not me mate," Liam replied, looking up from his laptop. "Zayn?" Harry called into the next room. "Not me either," he yelled back.
Harry looked suspiciously at his phone and opened the message, wondering who it could be from. No one ever texted him besides his roommates, mostly because he had cut off contact from most of them. Ever since he got sick, he stopped going out and being social. He had tried to hold onto some friendships, but eventually it just became to much, as his crippling fear of food quickly began to prevent him from leaving the house.
Harry smiled as he saw who the text was from -- it was Louis. Suddenly, he remembered in some sort of foggy memory from last night in which all the lads had exchanged numbers. Harry nodded to himself as he looked down at his phone to read the message:
Louis: Hey Harry. How are you feeling? Was wondering if you wanted to come over later. I bought some cake mix and was wondering if you wanted to bake a bit.
Louis: Don't worry. You don't have to eat any
Harry was perplexed at this odd request of Louis' to bake but not eat cake.... He knew he was probably just trying to make him feel better about his fear of desserts, but it still seemed weird. He responded:
Harry: Ok, yeah. But why?
Louis: Wanted to spend time with you
Harry: Oh. Um. Why me?
Harry instantly felt silly after sending that because as insecure and depressed as he was, he didn't want to openly share those types of thoughts with Louis. Now he was going to think he was strange... But Louis continued to type.
Louis: Cause you're fun to be around. Would be great to get to know you more.
Louis: When do you leave for treatment?
Harry: Three days. It starts on Monday.
Louis: So we'll have to make this count, yeah?
Louis: 7pm good?
Harry instantly started to panic at how forward Louis was being. There was no way he could be interested in him! It just wasn't possible for a guy like that -- so muscular, so confident, so sexy -- to be into someone so gross and damaged. Harry shook his head and tossed his phone aside, planning to not respond, to not go.
But after a few minutes, he realized that he might be making a mistake. This could be the last time he sees Louis in a really along time, since the program could go up to two months if he didn't get his shit together in time. He grabbed the phone and quickly responded "Yup" before tossing it back down and taking a nap, exhausted by the process of eating that bloody yogurt Zayn and Louis had forced upon him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Coming," Louis called, setting the last of the ingredients on the counter. He jogged to the door and opened it to a nervous Harry, who was fidgeting with a bracelet on his arm. Today he was wearing a baggy T-shirt, his long, thin arms fully exposed and black joggers, which hung loosely off of his hips. Instead of wearing his beanie, he had pulled his hair back into a tight pony tail, which Louis found adorable.
"You look great," Louis said, welcoming him in. Harry began to interject, but Louis smiled and simply said, "Harold, take the compliment." Harry reached in the air, pretending to take it, and both boys laughed, though Louis was sincerely surprised at Harry's sudden change in spirit.
"So I am no baker, Harry, but I tried my best to find different frostings and sprinkles and things. It's just regular old cake mix, nothing fancy, but I figured you could make a creation out of it. I have pans and oil and all that too," Louis said, fastening a white apron onto his curvy torso and handing one to Harry.
Harry struggled to put on the apron -- it was so loose he had to tie it around his middle twice over to get it to stay up. Louis shot him a pitiful look, but he didn't seem to notice, as the next thing he did was walk over to the countertop, carefully examining each item.
"You really don't know how to bake," he said with a slight giggle. "This is baby powder Louis -- what the fuck?"
Louis jumped up in embarrassment, grabbing the baby powder from Harry's hand. "Oh my god, I thought it was baking soda, Jesus," he said, his face flushing red.
"'S alright, Lou," Harry replied. "I'll teach you all you need to know about making a vanilla Funfetti cake. Didn't learn this at the bakery, that's for sure," Harry said with a smirk.
Harry began to set up the ingredients, his thin hands flitting from item to item, nearly causing Louis to get dizzy. "Okay, so pour that in and then we'll add the eggs and whisk it," Harry instructed. "Do you know how to use a whisk Lou?"
Louis made puppy dog eyes and shrugged at Harry, sending him into a fit of laughter. "Okay, well I'll show you, then," he said, taking out a whisk and gently stirring the mixture until it was liquidy. "You try," he said to Louis, handing it to him.
Louis immediately lost his grip and dropped the entire whisk into the mixture. "Fuck," he said, reaching for it. "Nooo -- you'll make a mess of it," Harry cried as he grabbed a clean spoon to scoop it out. Louis, whose fingers were now covered in batter, giggled as he smeared some on Harry's nose.
"Oh, it's on," Harry said, dipping his finger in batter and wiping it on Louis' cheek. Louis lunged towards Harry, ready for another attack, but Harry blocked him and wiped some on his forehead. "Okay, okay," Louis said, still laughing. "Let's stop before we destroy my brand new kitchen, yeah?"
Harry nodded and began to pour the batter into the pan, carefully evening it out with a fork afterward. "Then we set the oven to 325 and put it in for 30 minutes," he said to Louis, who began to set the temperature on the oven. "And now we can make the frosting. Do you like buttercream or cream cheese?"
Louis shrugged. "I like everything. What do you like?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not having any," Harry said, matter-of-factly. "Yes, but if you were to have some, what would you have?" Louis asked, curious as to how he would answer.
"Well, buttercream used to be my favorite...." he began, scrunching his nose as he tried to remember. It had been so long ago. "Buttercream, then," said Louis, putting away the cream cheese. "Okay," Harry said with a smile.
Harry instructed Louis to put the ingredients in the bowl and whisk them, watching intently to make sure he didn't drop the whisk this time. "If anything, I'm more likely to drop it with you watching me like that," Louis whined, rolling his eyes. "Too much pressure."
"Yes, but then I can scold you as soon as you do," Harry said with a laugh. "Are you always this sassy?" Louis asked, cocking his brows. "Almost never, honestly," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I used to be... I used to have a really bold personality. They'd always find me starting arguments with the other bakers because I liked to sass people so much..."
Louis smiled sweetly at Harry. "Well you can still be sassy, you know. That's your personality, you don't have to hide it from the world," Louis told him, gently reaching out to grab his icy hand. "I sure don't."
"Yes, you sure don't Mr. 'Why Menswear suits are the new orgasm.' What possessed you to write such a sexy article?" Harry asked, a smutty look spreading across his face. "Oh, that. You read my writing?" Louis asked in surprise.
"Yeah, well I looked you up. I wanted to see your work," Harry admitted, still holding onto Louis' hand. "That's so sweet, Hazza, thank you," Louis said as he put down the whisk. Harry blushed a little, but didn't feel as embarrassed as he thought he would be. Something about baking with Louis made him feel calm, at peace.
"So now, we'll wait for the cake... I think it has like 20 more minutes," Harry said, a warm feeling spreading across his body as he thought of what could be accomplished in those twenty minutes.
"Okay," Louis said, nervously. He was also thinking about sex, and with any other guy, that would be the obvious interim activity. But Harry was different -- Louis didn't want to move too quickly with Harry. Not because he was sick and weak and not ready, but because he was special. Because out of all the other guys Louis had been with, Harry was the only one who made him feel -- alive, electrified, wanted.
"I -- uh," Harry whispered. "I think you look cute in that apron." "I think you look cute in everything," Louis whispered back, sending tingles through Harry's ear.
Harry fought the urge to tell Louis: 'no, you're lying' or 'you're just saying that' and accepted the complement, biting his tongue to quell the guilty feeling in the back of his throat.
"Thanks," he said in an uncertain tone. Louis nodded, excitedly. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "You took the compliment. It's true Harry, you are so beautiful."
Harry looked at Louis, his green eyes sparkling, and bit his lip. Louis walked over and gently put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "This okay?" he asked quietly. "Lou, we kissed before, it's okay. You can, um, touch more of me. I'm just gross, but I'll deal," he replied, pulling Louis a bit closer.
Louis looked at Harry skeptically, taking a step back. "You aren't gross. Not one bit. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Haz," he protested. "You're not," Harry insisted, bringing Louis' hand to his torso as if to prove he was okay with it.
As soon as Louis' hand hit his waist, though, Harry felt as if he couldn't breathe. He immediately wanted to sprint out of the flat and run down the street to some place, any place but here. Louis looked up at Harry's pale face, and sensing Harry's panic, pulled his hand away.
"I, uh, sorry," Harry mumbled. "I'm such a loser." He started to walk away, but Louis took him by the arm, grabbing his tiny wrist tightly. He led him to the couch, and Harry followed, reluctantly, and took a seat next to him.
"You're not a loser, love," Louis said, blushing profusely as he called Harry his first pet name. He looked over at Harry who was just as shocked as he was, staring back at him with wide eyes. "Apparently I'm the loser here," Louis laughed. "I won't call you that if you think it's weird."
Harry shook his head, his pony tail bouncing against his back. "No, it's okay, really," he said with a soft smile. "Okay, love," Louis continued. "But, it's okay to be a little sensitive and not want to be touched. It's your body and I respect your feelings. But one day, I hope you can see how beautiful it is."
Harry felt his eyes water. Liam and Zayn told him things like that all the time, but he never believed it coming from them. They were his best friends -- they had to say that. It was like a mother telling her son he was handsome.
But to hear it from Louis, well it felt different. It felt like it might actually be true, though the voice in his head was screaming bloody murder that it wasn't. In that short moment when Louis called him beautiful, Harry felt himself rise above the voice, finally finding solace for once. Finally feeling the tiniest bit free.
"Thank you," Harry replied, his eyes wet. "Truly. You can't imagine how that made me feel. I really feel a lot better." Harry leaned forward and wrapped Louis in an awkward hug, creating a large distance between their torsos so they did not touch. Louis didn't mind at all; he snuggled his arms into Harry's and tried to make the most of the hug as he could.
Beeeeeeeep. "Oh fuck the cake is ready," Harry said jumping up. Louis positioned himself behind Harry, ready to catch him in case he was having another dizzy spell. But to his surprise, Harry didn't lose balance.
"Were you expecting me to fall?" Harry asked, shooting Louis a dirty look. "You arse." Louis followed after him. "Well, I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he said, looking up at Harry to see how he was reacting.
"Honestly, I don't feel dizzy anymore today. I had all my breakfast and almost all of my lunch. Like 3/4. I really tried," Harry said quietly. He felt Louis' soothing hand softly rub his back. "That's great, Harry, I'm so proud," he told him with a smile.
Harry smiled back and leaned in to kiss Louis when the timer beeped again. "Oh, shit, Tomlinson," Harry giggled. "We are not burning this damn cake."
He grabbed two oven mits and opened the oven, carefully removing the cake. Louis was surprised at how perfectly even the cake was and mesmerized by it's beautiful golden brown shade. Every time he had tried to bake a cake in the past, it had turned out a shit brown color.
"I'll frost it," Harry said, sticking his tongue out at Louis. "It looks awesome. So even and golden," Louis replied, handing Harry the frosting bowl.
"Yeah," Harry said, slowly taking the knife and smoothing on little layers of frosting. "They would literally murder us if it wasn't perfectly symmetrical at the bakery," he said with a smirk.
Louis began to wash the dishes as Harry frosted, mumbling something about Niall killing them both if he came back to a dirty kitchen.
"Ta-da!" Harry said a few minutes later, showing Louis the cake. It was covered with a perfect sheet of vanilla frosting, and in the middle, Harry had used a dark blue frosting gel to draw a tiny portrait of Louis' face in cartoon form.
Louis smiled at Harry, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges, and kissed his head softly. "It's beautiful, Harry," he said. "Let me take a picture of you with it."
"Oh, uh, no that's okay. Just the cake," Harry said quickly, setting it down. "I don't like having my picture taken."
Louis nodded. "Well I think you have a great smile and beautiful eyes. Are you sure?" he asked, trying to coax him into taking the photo. Harry shook his head, his eyes darkening a bit. Louis snapped a photo of the cake and then cut two slices, forgetting for a second that Harry wasn't going to eat his.
"Oh -- sorry, Haz," he said, as Harry looked at the second cake slice in horror. "I cut two by mistake. Just leave it there."
Harry nodded and followed Louis to the table, watching excitedly as Louis took a bite. "Oh my god this is so damn good, Harold," he said excitedly. His blue eyes shot open as he took a bite of the cake, which was perfectly moist and tender. The frosting was also delicious -- extremely creamy and buttery with just enough sweetness -- not too much, but not too little.
"Thanks," Harry said, smiling at the floor. Louis locked eyes with him and gave him a guilty look. "Harry-- are -- are you sure you don't want to try just one bite? You don't have to but, I'd love it if you did. For me," Louis said slowly, terrified that he was pushing Harry too far out of his comfort zone, but also delighted by what might happen if he actually did.
Harry swallowed and looked over at Louis, who was smiling at him with sad eyes. Absolutely do not have a bite. That cake will make you gain so much weight!!!! the voice in his head screamed. But Harry thought about what he had told Liam and Zayn today. He was going to fight. Hard.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded at Louis, who hid his shock from Harry, but was internally throwing a party at how much progress was making. Louis stabbed a tiny piece of cake with the fork, making sure to include some frosting, and handed it to Harry.
Harry was shaking, trembling in fear as the voice attacked him. He quickly grabbed the fork from Louis and put it to his lips, slowly chewing a few morsels. Then, he chewed a few more and a few more until the fork was clean. Then, the tears started flowing-- and unable to stop himself, he found himself crying into Louis' chest, whimpering softly. Louis stroked Harry's hair tenderly, his eyes wet and cheeks red. He was crying too.