hello hello hellllllllllllllllo
THIS IS A FILLER SO IT'S SHORT AND HAS LIKE NO REAL POINT BUT IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE THAT WAY
so i might will update on thursday, but it will be pre-written and i won't be online to like answer your comments and whatever - just a heads up. i have a thingie after school to go to and then i have violin like literally an hour after that ends so i dont know if i'll be able to squeeze one in that night, therefore i am writing it in advance.
and by the way, that chapter on thursday will be private. so if your horny ass wants to read the smut that will be in it, you best follow me now. if you don't want to read it, that's fine, nothing important to the plot will happen and i'll definitely catch you up with anything small that may have occured in an author's note on friday. capisce? capisce.
QOTC: how did you find this story/catfish? (through another wattpad member, a suggestion from wattpad, etc.)
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"Hi," Louis says into his phone. He woke up to over twenty missed calls from his mother, and though hungover, he was also concerned and decided to call back immediately even though it's still only eight in the morning and Harry is asleep on the floor by the bed.
"Louis William Tomlinson, I called you twenty times, I sent you numerous texts-"
"Yeah, Mum. I know. 's why I'm calling you now," Louis stifles a yawn into his hand at the same time Harry makes a loud groaning noise in his sleep. Louis sits up and pokes Harry's chest with his toe as his mother rambles on in the background.
"-Had me worried sick, thought something had happened to you-"
"Uh huh."
"And I even called Harry, Niall, Liam, and Zayn; none of them answered either?"
"Oh, well. We were all busy last night," Louis hums, smirking when his sock covered toe brushes Harry's nose and Harry sneezes. "Band stuff."
"Band stuff? Band stuff. Louis, I haven't held a decent conversation with you in months."
"It's not my fault you always ring me at inconvenient times," Louis argues.
"Inconvenient times - Louis! You didn't even pick up on your sister's birthday." Jay sounds really pissed at the moment. Louis considers hanging up but he decides that it would only make the situation worse, actually. But Harry looks so lonely and adorable lying on the floor using a jumper as a pillow (even though it's Louis' and he's drooling on it) and what kind of friend slash bandmate slash boyfriend-in-training would Louis be if he were to allow him to remain that way? Louis puts the phone on speaker and tosses it carelessly on the nightstand before he plops down next to Harry and lays across his chest. Harry's breathing in his ear and Louis almost misses it when his mum speaks again.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes!" Louis snaps. "Jesus."
"Don't use that kind of language, Louis. I am your mother, I expect you to treat me differently then you would one of your friends-"
"Look, Mum. Mummy," Louis tries, because he knows the way into his mother's heart. "You know I'm busy. I'm sorry I haven't been in contact, really, I am. But, well. It's Harry. He's been having a hard time lately, you know, breakups and whatnot - I've been helping him through it. Like a therapist, y'know. A stay at home therapist."
"Stay at home therapist? I thought you didn't live with Harry anymore?" Oh.
"Yeah, about that.. we sort of moved back in together."
"What? When? Were you ever going to tell me any of these things?"
"Was planning on it eventually, yeah," Louis huffs. He squirms against Harry (he wasn't kidding when he said Harry wasn't comfortable) and ends up with his head on Harry's stomach somehow. He's surprised Harry hasn't jumped awake yet, because Harry is usually an extremely light sleeper.
The second Louis thinks this, though, Harry groans from underneath him again. This time, however, his eyes are blinking open lazily and hands pat at Louis' face on his stomach confusedly. "Mornin' Hazza."
"What?" Jay asks.
"Harry's just woken up."
"Louis, m' head hurts so bad," Harry moans loudly. "Fuck, there's probably a huge mess to clean-"
"Mess? Headache? Louis!"
"Look, Mum. Now's not a good time," Louis grabs the phone from the nightstand. "Harry needs a doctor, he hit his head on the door frame."
"Wha-"
"Love you!"
"Louis Tomlinson, don't you da-"
Louis hangs up and flops back down onto Harry, who lets out another noise of protest. It's only then when Louis feels a stickiness in his trousers; he wrinkles his noise and shifts uncomfortably. "Um, Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Did we.. do anything last night?" Louis talks quietly to help lessen the force of the pounding in his and Harry's heads.
"Um. I don't think so," Harry says quickly. "I mean, I'd know if we did."
"How?"
Harry goes silent. "Well, um. I've - I've never really. Like."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Louis is quiet for a few minutes as he thinks. "Really? I mean, I thought-"
"No," Harry says quietly, but then he clears his throat and speaks again. "Never. I - I've never.."
"Right, right. You don't have to say it."
Louis sits up again and helps Harry into a similar position, supporting his back with a steady hand as Harry's head lolls and his eyes clench shut. His cheeks are heated, though, and he looks at Louis through his long eyelashes (Louis could stare at Harry's eyes all day, honestly). "I, uh. I mean, never with another guy."
"Right, obviously."
"I'd remember, don't you think? Plus, like. I'm still wearing my shoes. Don't think I'd put my shoes on after we.. you know."
"Oh, no. I agree," Louis feels very awkward given the circumstances, but when Harry's standing up and pulling Louis with him to get something for their headaches he follows willingly. "I just - um, my pants-"
"Yeah. Not sure if those can be salvaged, Lou." And then: "You smell like sex."
"Great," Louis comments. This is so weird. "And you smell like booze."
"Awesome," Harry imitates his own version of Louis' accent. It sounds terrible, so Louis rolls his eyes - Harry goes to peck Louis, but Louis shies away from Harry's touch and hides his face in Harry's chest.
"Morning breath," Louis reminds him. He feels Harry chuckle.
"And we both need to shower."
"Right," Louis agrees. He pulls away from Harry and digs his fingers around the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up over his head before he tosses it carelessly onto the floor. His fingers are on the button of his trousers when he finally looks back at Harry.
Harry's eyes are bulging and his mouth is hanging wide open; but he hasn't told Louis to stop yet.
"Do you mind?" Louis asks (because he really hopes Harry does mind). "If I shower first."
"Oh, no. Go right ahead," Harry steps aside and holds his arm out toward the shower but he isn't making any sort of sign of leaving the bathroom.
"Right.." Louis mutters. He tugs his trousers down his legs, cringing at the dark spot in his boxers. He stands awkwardly in front of Harry, who is gawking at Louis like he's never seen him naked before, and slips his fingers under the waistband of the boxers. "Um.."
"Go on." Harry's voice is so small that Louis can barely hear it. Louis' entire face is on fire.
The material of the boxers pool around his ankles. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop, Louis thinks, and he feels so vulnerable like this; Harry is practically staring him down. He curls in on himself self-consciously, but Harry shakes his head as soon as he realizes what Louis is doing as Louis begins to scoot toward the corner.
"No, don't hide yourself." Louis wants to wail. "You're beautiful."
"Harry-"
"I mean it," Harry's eyes are shining with sincerity. "I would remember if we did something last night, because I'd remember how beautiful you were, Louis."