home is wherever i’m with you; chapter 8.

[prologue] [chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [chapter 7]

based off of this prompt: Louis gives a teacher a blow job at his school, his parents find out and decide to ship him off to a conservative Private School far away. There he meets Harry, who is incredibly innocent and doesn’t really understand the concept of sex. Louis makes it his mission to pop Harry’s cherry, and turn him into a cock!slut. He falls for Harry in the process. (last part is optional.) Louis is 17 and Harry has just turned 15.

rating: mature

warning: this chapter is extremely long, and there’s no smut. :o

Harry’s standing in a row of six, in between Zayn and a girl named Joanna, singing Deck The Halls for somewhere near the fiftieth time. Their chorus teacher is a short woman with curly red hair and a pretty smile. Her cheeks are too pink and lips much too red, and she looks like his sister Gemma when she’d play dress up in grade school.

‘Stop laughing—I’m not a clown, Harry, I’m an important business woman like mummy!’ Gemma would yell, promptly followed by a sharp, ‘Gemma, I told you to stop using my makeup! It’s expensive.

Harry stops singing abruptly as Miss. Holly raises her arm, signaling them to stop. “Susan, how many times must we go over this? We’re not racing our fa-la-la’s, are we?” The targeted student shakes her head, ponytail flipping wildly. “Fa-la-la-la-la,” The teacher speaks slowly. “La-la-la-la.” Her eyebrows raise and an incredibly tight smile spreads over her face. “From the start!”

Christmas is closing in on Harry and it’s like he’s trying to run away from it. It’ll be two weeks entirely away from Louis, which he hates because Christmas time with Louis seems lovely except he can’t, because Louis’ not his boyfriend and that might be weird. Also, his parents don’t know he’s gay.

Harry isn’t sure how much longer he can avoid the topic himself. Like every time the thought occurs he just pushes it to the back of his mind, saying no, not yet, later. Sometimes as he’s lying beneath Louis he’ll think, “this isn’t normal; friends don’t do this; straight people don’t do this. on a scale of 1 to 10, how gay is this?”

Inside he knows, though. He’s fallen hard for someone and it’s not a girl like it was supposed to be. It’s a boy who he can’t get out of his fucking brain, like a bad memory. He can’t tell if it’s Louis or the idea that he’s love with him that scares him more but either way he’s terrified.

Terrified of what his friends will say, how his family will react, what his peers at school will think and whisper about during class. What if he turns into some sort of social pariah, and his friends think it’s gross and everyone just leaves him (like Louis, Harry thinks guiltily). And suddenly he’s never thought of Louis as so brave because he’s finally facing the reality now; like he’s teetering on the edge of a cliff and he can either stay there forever or jump, with Louis by his side.

He’s never been in love before, but he thinks he knows what it feels like very suddenly when he realizes he wouldn’t mind jumping as long as Louis’ there to hold his hand.


He doesn’t mean to do it. Niall and Liam corner him after chorus and say they think they should hang out and do something fun and Zayn says they should drink (it’s Thursday) so Harry says how about we go off campus, and like, get food?

“Nah, that’s useless…and a waist of energy,” Niall says. “Besides we’d only have like 3 hours before we’d have to get back.”

“No! Now that it’s the holidays off-campus hours have been extended,” Liam informs them all. “We can stay out ‘til 9 as long as we’ve got our ID’s and signed passes.”

They all agree and say that sounds like an excellent idea until Niall suddenly pauses and quietly says, “Er, well. I don’t have my ID, actually.”

“What? Niall you were supposed to pick them up at the beginning of the year.”

“Yeah, during a free period! And my only free period is lunch, why would I risk it; not like I go anywhere, anyways.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Well you’re going somewhere now.”

Zayn fixes his ear buds, looking uninterested. “They keep them filed away in the library. There are always extra copies.”

“Fantastic, let’s go; c’mon, quickly, quickly,” Liam says, shuffling them along down the hall like the mother he was. Niall has a bounce in his step, excited they were actually doing something and Zayn watches the shorter boy with a small smile on his face.

Harry’s got an uneasy feeling in his stomach, because he obviously knows whose going to be there. Like. He’s angry about it, really; bitter as fuck that Louis agreed to Eleanor and yet he can’t be angry because he kissed him, in the hall, in public, and he’s sure his heart had stopped beating because it was felt so natural and wonderful and Louis actually wanted to kiss him in public. Nobody saw, but it still meant something. They were getting somewhere.

He tells himself that maybe he won’t see them. If he just stuck by Liam’s side, he’d be fine, and he could leave and pretend nothing happened. “We need some time for just the two of us.” Well.

It looked like they wouldn’t be doing that tonight. He was busy; he’d realized it’d been over a month since just him and the other boys had spent time together.

Harry follows his friends down the steps, purposely keeping his eyes glued to the back of Zayn’s meticulously styled head so he couldn’t see them even if they were standing right in front of him. He notices Zayn’s head move to look up, look down, and quickly look up again. He turns his head to look at Harry with wide, confused eyes, taking his head phones out. “What’s Louis doing here with Eleanor?”

And then, without thinking (because he’s really just a big idiot) he looks to his left, down at the row of tables, and sees the two. Louis’ back is to them but Eleanor is faced forward and he can clearly see her reach out and squeeze Louis’ arm, giggle in a stupidly flirty manner and smile. “She needed help with a project I think.” He mutters sourly.

“But…” Zayn looks back, looks at Harry, and whispers, “I thought he liked cock?”

Harry’s eyes widen and he can’t himself; he laughs, loudly, and slaps a hand over his mouth. He ducks, holding onto Zayn’s arm and tugging him behind a tall potted plant. “Sorry,” Harry says, peeking through the leaves. Louis’ head has popped up, looking around behind him, a baffled look on his face. “He totally knows I’m here. What if he thinks I’m spying on him?”

Zayn is silently staring at Harry, which he does a lot, and it’s seriously unnerving but he says nothing about it because Harry stares at people too without noticing, so it’d be kind of hypocritical. “Why do you care?”


“Why do you care if he thinks you’re spying?” Zayn asks. “Why don’t you go and say hi.”

“Oh—because.” Harry thinks, noticing Liam and Niall walking toward them. “He’d want to talk or know where we’re going. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, cause he’s not coming.”

Zayn shrugs. “We could wait for him to finish.”

“No. I want it to be just the four of us.” Harry pushes.

“Alright, then.”


“Soooo,” Eleanor twirls a long strand of chocolatey hair around her finger. Her nails are perfectly trimmed and painted, and her skin smells like vanilla. Louis’ concentrated on a piece of paper, planning the outline for Eleanor’s project.

“Yeah?” Louis asks.

Eleanor daintily clears her throat, leaning forward; her shirt is hanging low and it doesn’t matter how much Louis prefers a nice jawline to big breasts because he still has eyes. He kind of wishes he could just tell her to stop, not in a mean way but in an, I’m just not that into you sort of way. “You’re like, so smart. I never knew cause you’re always joking around but…you’re like really smart.”

“Er, yeah, I suppose I am.”

Eleanor giggles a girly sound and smiles so her shiny pink lips curve upward. Her teeth are like, blindingly white. Eleanor is beautiful, he knows; just not as beautiful as Harry.

“So…any plans for prom yet?”

“Nope.” What is it with people and prom the school, anyways?

“Is there anyone you like?” And it’s kind of like one of those cliche moments in a movie, because suddenly he hears this stupidly loud laugh. A laugh that’s half like someone stepped on your foot and half like you’ve just heard the funniest thing in your entire life. He turns around quickly, eyes searching for the curly headed boy it belonged to, but the stairwell remained empty.

He turns back to Eleanor, smiles. “Yeah. There is this one person.”

“Who?” Eleanor asks. Louis says nothing, realizing he should’ve just said no. “Maybe I could talk to her for you?” God that sounded weird; her—for you. “I’m sure she likes you back.”

Louis’ smile fades uneasily, and when he looks up at Eleanor, she’s got this huge, flirty smile plastered on her face. Her eyes like wide and shiny and excited and Louis feels so guilty he could cry. She thinks it’s her. “Well—actually.” He makes a face like he’s in pain. “The person sort of, knows. They. Uhm. We’ve been seeing each other—for a while.”

Eleanor’s eyes looks confused. Like she’s thinking, how could I have been wrong? How could he not like me? “That’s embarrassing.” She laughs nervously.

“Don’t be embarrassed—I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” Louis fiddles with his pen. “I just—”

“Don’t.” Eleanor says. “I just. Haven’t liked anyone in a while, since my boyfriend broke up with me. In September. My friends told me it seemed like you liked me. I don’t usually go up to boys and ask them out like I did, I just didn’t know how to get to you in private.” Her eyes drift down to her hands. “I see you every day in class but it’s like you’re only half there.”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow. “And how’s that?”

“Like you’ll joke around, share your snacks, help me with work. Compliment my hair. But whenever I try to talk to you, like, actually talk to you, you always seem so…not there. I thought it was because we had physics first period and you were tired or something. But I guess now, you know, it’s obvious why.”

“Sorry.” Louis whispers, the silence of the library becoming incredibly obvious to him.

“It’s fine.” Eleanor says, fixing her hair. She takes her outline out of Louis’ loose grip and stashes it away carelessly in her folder. “What time is it?” She asks, grabbing for Louis’ cell phone and turning it on to check the time.

She pauses, blinking down at the screen longer than needed. Her brown eyes flicker back up to look at Louis, a curious look flashing through them. “Louis…” Her eyes move to glance back down at his screen saver. Time seems to freeze. What the fuck was she looking at?

“Are you gay?”


“All set?” Harry asks once Liam and Niall have rejoined them. The Irish boy nods, twirling the ID between his fingers. “Great, let’s go.” They stop at the main office and get their passes signed without questions, because all of the boys are good students other than Niall, really, but he’s nothing but nice so all teachers love him regardless.

Harry tells himself he’s not upset Louis isn’t there and he deserves it because Louis knows how jealous he can be and agreeing to help Eleanor was just unneeded, really.

They walk a few minutes down the street before finding a bus stop. They decide not to get off until they get to a town with actual stores, because all of the shops near Fulneck look like something from a black and white film and they need presents for family that aren’t coated in dust. The bus ride is about 20 minutes and the town is small but busy, with lots of stores crowded next to each other on either side of the street.

The first thing they do is stop to get caffeine. Harry’s shivering because he stupidly decided against bringing gloves or a scarf and he’s really quite cold. The boys all get hot coffees, except for Niall who gets tea, and then they move onto shopping. Harry buys himself a cheap pair of gloves from a thrift shop and Liam (who’s basically a bear) gives up his scarf and wraps it around Harry’s neck for him, tucking it into his jacket so no cold air can get in. “Thanks mum.”

Liam rolls his eyes and pinches Harry’s cheek. “Of course.”

Niall joins them, several tiny purple shopping bags hanging off his arms. “You seen Zayn? I think I lost him along the way.”

“He might’ve been sucked into the vortex of beauty supplies. Down the road.” Harry says, and much to his amusement, Zayn pops up about 10 minutes later with a plastic bag full of hair styling gels and sprays and shit that seem irrelevant to Harry.

It’s finally getting dark and they’re all getting tired, and Harry (clumsy and gangly as he is) has a sore bum from slipping on the slush covering the road several times now. They’re all hungry, especially Niall, whose been complaining and moaning about it since before they even left the coffee shop. “Niall, I’m actually going to strangle you if you don’t shut your mouth. We’re looking.”

“This sucks. This town is so bloody small and all I want is a fucking sandwich.” Niall says, huffing out an annoyed breath.

“Well—there are a lot of places we could go.” Liam says, stopping to grab Harry’s arm as he nearly slips backwards again. “There’s a deli, down the street. Though, er, it smells. Really weird. And there’s a Mexican place.”

Zayn shrugs. “I’m so sick of Mexican food. I’ve gotten a taco everyday at lunch for like the past week.”

“Well, they serve more than just tacos, I’m sure, Zayn.”

“I just don’t want it. It’s all the same, really. Cheese, rice, beans, meat.”

Liam almost comments but stops himself, shaking his head. “We could get Chinese?”

“Oh, sushi! Awesome!” Niall says, eyes wide with excitement.

“No, Niall, that’s Japanese.”

“Whatever—Chinese is good too.”

Surprisingly (not surprisingly at all) there are only about 2 people in the tiny Chinese place, and they’re seated immediately. They order easily, and when Harry’s eyes scan over the menu he can’t help but notice the order of Lo Mein noodles and chicken because he vaguely remembers Louis telling him how much he’d been craving it one night at dinner.

He suddenly feels quite guilty about not inviting Louis. He wishes he were there, laughing and joking next to him with the boys. They could play footsies under the table and sneak off to shops and experience the thrill of kissing in public like a normal couple (even though they weren’t a couple, so.).

Harry’s halfway through his Sesame chicken when he feels his cell phone vibrate.

Where the fuck are you? (It’s Louis, obviously.)

In town with the boys.

What?! I thought we were hanging out tonight :(

Yeah and I thought you liked boys. Weird.

Awkward … cause I do …

Awkward cause I saw you and Eleanor looking pretty cosy in the library.

First of all, we can talk about that later. Second, why were you following me?

I wasn’t. We’re having Chinese. I was going to bring you some, but I don’t think I will now.

Well now I’m officially in tears.


Maybe Eleanor could wipe them for you.

You’re cruel. And to think, I had something quite special planned for us.


You’ll never know now. Enjoy your chicken. X

Harry looks down at his container. He feels quite sick, and it has nothing to do with his argument. “What’s wrong Haz?” Liam asks from across the table. “You look a bit ill.”

And he feels it, too. His stomach churns uncomfortably. “Misses his boyfriend,” says Niall through a mouthful of rice.

“I don’t feel good.” Harry mumbles, shutting his eyes. Niall reaches across him and stabs a piece of his chicken with a chopstick. “Don’t! I think it’s bad.”

“Pshhh,” Niall laughs. He bites the chicken off, chewing delightedly. “No such thing, Haz.”


Harry is sick. Like. Really, really, really sick. Liam drags him up the steps and pushes the door of his room open, setting him on his bed. He brings him a trashcan and a large water bottle with Advil set next to it on his side table. The older of the two sighs, pressing a pair of sweat pants to his lap.

All he can see is black and tiny white spots appearing in front of his face. His stomach has never felt so weak and uneasy; his head is spinning like he’s just down cartwheels down a mountain. From the room next to him he can hear Niall throwing up, retching desperately. The sound makes Harry more nauseous than he felt before, and he pushes Liam’s shoulder so he can move out of the way, throwing up into his small garbage bin.

“Oh, fuck, ew,” Harry mumbles. He wipes his mouth, another wave of nausea racking through his body as he vomits again. He throat is raw, he feels like shit.

“Should I call a nurse? The infirmary is closed but…they’ll always help.”



No.” Harry croaks. “I’m tired. I feel fine, I think I’m better now. You can go, really; it’s nearly midnight.” He’s lying of course. He’s not fine, in fact he think he’s about to throw up again.

Liam groans tiredly. “Fine.” He gets up. “But call me if you need help, okay?”

He leaves and Harry is still nodding, staring at his wall.



It’s almost 2 am. Harry’s never felt so shitty in his entire life. He’s still throwing up and his stomach is empty and his throat is aching and he just wants to sleep. He crawls into his bathroom, feeling relief from the cool tiles, and turns off the lights. He drifts off for about 30 minutes, head lolling forward, and is awoken by the sound of his door clicking open.

The soft pad of footsteps sounds through his quiet dorm and an irrational part of his brain is beginning to panic, but really, it’s probably Liam. “Harry?” A soft voice whispers.

Oh. “Louis?” His voice is scratchy and it hurts to talk. Louis gently pushes open the bathroom door.

“You were quiet for too long.” Louis says, looking down at the boy with something like pity in his eyes. “Thought you died.”

Harry chokes on a sob, leaning forward and covering his face. “Wh—Harry.” Louis kneels down beside the curly haired boy, tugs on his hand, attempting to pry it away. “Why are you crying?”

“I feel like I’m dying. And you’re mad at me, and you’re going to leave me because I’m immature and weird and jealous and I won’t put out—I know it, I’ve been thinking about it all night.” Harry says through his tears. “I knew you heard me getting sick and Liam must’ve told you and I was thinking about why you weren’t coming over and I realized, you’re not my boyfriend—you don’t have to do anything for me. Why would you want to? You’re going to leave me soon, Louis, I know you are.”

Louis watches him speak with concerned eyes. Harry wipes the tears off his cheeks, feeling tiny and embarrassed because time is going on and Louis still hasn’t said anything.

“You’re delirious,” Louis speaks finally, settling next to him. Harry drops his hands and stares at him at with wide, green eyes. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Louis pulls him by the waist so Harry can fall against his chest, curl an arm around him. “See. This is kind of like a message from God.”

Harry is quiet, rubbing his face into the crook of Louis’ neck. He smells good. Better than he does. “And what’s that?”

Always listen to me.” He kisses Harry’s forehead, running his fingers softly through the boy’s curls. It’s silent for a few minutes, and Louis is so warm and comfortable Harry thinks he might be able to catch a few hours of sleep.


“Mm?” Harry hums sleepily.

He can feel himself drifting off. “I’m not leaving you.”


oh, poo. no smut. i’m trying to change my writing style because i’ve been unhappy with it and i feel like it was just turning into this big, cheesy smut fest. so. i hope you enjoyed anyways. tell me if you liked it or not!

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