"I'm not gay," Louis says, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Harry bursts out laughing, doubling over and clutching at his side. It's only a good minute later that he straightens up again, wiping stray tears from the corner of his eyes. "Louis" he manages to say, "You work at a gay strip club, and all of your friends are openly gay. Trust me, you are gay." "That's..." Louis furrows his brows, suddenly dry lips before continuing, "That doesn't prove anything." "Maybe, maybe not," the dancer allows, "You know what does, though? That painful-looking in your pants."
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