home is wherever i’m with you; chapter 15.

[prologue][chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [chapter 7] [chapter 8] [chapter 9] [chapter 10] [chapter 11 pt.1] [chapter 11 pt.2] [chapter 12] [chapter 13] [chapter 14]

fic summary: louis gives his teacher a blowjob and gets sent to boarding school, where he meets an incredibly young and lanky and adorable harry and basically falls in love with him. 

rating: mature

warnings: i’m too american for my own good so excuse my mistakes

previously: harry and louis went to leeds and had a romantic evening~, zayn is nervous bc perrie exists, etcetc um maybe just read it bc it was very long<33

disclaimer: don’t hate me but this chapter is like 95% louis/harry 5% anyone else :/ actually just ziall there is no liam at all oops


Around the third week of January it starts snowing especially hard, windows frozen shut and the grounds outside slick with ice. Sleeping alone is seemingly impossible and Louis wonders how anybody at this school can do so without a werewolf boyfriend to cuddle up to at night.

It’s not like Louis is that codependent (he is) but it’s just makes sense because Harry is so warm and his skin is so soft and his chest was like, made for him to rest his head on. In reality, he’d be stupid not to sleep with him. He could catch a cold or…wake up with a sore neck or something. Harry doesn’t seem to mind anymore, and if Louis isn’t the one to sneak into his room first, he’ll end up crawling into bed with him, anyways.

Harry’s been acting particularly like a needy puppy since Louis took him out to Leeds. It’s like. Louis doesn’t mind, really. Who would?

Just. It’s constant texting and constant whining for more kisses and he’s been late to his first period class almost every single day of the week and like. This is his last year in college and it’s no mystery as to what is making his grades drop so dramatically.

Harry is everything. His mornings, his afternoons, his nights, his inbetweens. He’s the person he wants to tell things to first and see first thing when he wakes up and share all his deepest secrets with and introduce to his mum and his dad and his family and the prime minister ‘cause like, he’s just it, isn’t he?

And homework just isn’t everything. Tests and quizzes and after school study sessions just aren’t his everything. He can’t cuddle up to a good grade, but he can certainly cuddle up to Harry. 

He refuses to tell this to anybody, though, because the thing is: no one sympathizes with people who are in a good relationship. Pity me! I’m having too much sex and my grades are suffering! God help, my boyfriend loves me too much, and it’s really effecting my sleeping pattern!

That’s really going to hit home with people, isn’t it?

Louis’ mobile buzzes from where he sits in the back of their school’s deserted library. Classes have ended and his real desk is too cluttered to do actual work on so he resorts to quiet, easy-to-get-shit-done sort of places like the library.

Where are you? it’s a text from Harry.

Louis thinks for a moment, looking down at his maths homework. His late mathshomework, due two days ago. He vaguely remembers attempting it in this exact spot on Tuesday before Harry offered to blow him in his dorm and. Yeah. Couldn’t really say no to that.

He considers lying, but can’t think of a situation Harry wouldn’t try to join or interfere with offers of sexual favors. He’s very cheeky, Louis’ learned, especially when he’s horny.

Library.. doing hw. xx

Harry replies in seconds. are you with people? 

(This is Harry trying to be casual.)

I’m having quite an enticing conversation with the shelf of books beside me but no one besides them..

your an idiot


I’m boooored….

(This is Harry trying to be subtle.)

Louis sighs, hanging his head in defeat. Would u like to join me?

Coming now! 

Right. Okay. So much for passing, then. Louis sits cross legged in his chair, trying to focus. Six more questions. You can do this.

He hums to himself idly as he waits for Harry and gets done with three more problems before the sound of sneakers dragging on carpet interrupts his thoughts. 

“I want to die.”

Louis looks up suddenly as Harry drops his bag on the wooden table and sits down - rather ungracefully - across from him. He blinks, looking confused. “Oh?” Louis asks, setting his phone aside. “Why’s that?”

“I’ve got an essay due tomorrow, for lit. It’s got to be like 10 pages long and size 12 font and fuck my life, seriously,” Harry complains, pushing the hair of his face and rubbing his temples. He looks exhausted, but, then again. So does Louis. “I’m just going to bullshit the whole thing, so pointless.”

“When was it assigned?” Louis asks, frowning.

Harry looks down at his fingernails. “I dunno…last week? I dunno, Liam just texted me reminding me. I completely forgot about it.”

“Last week? Harry, I could’ve helped you! I’m a relatively okay writer, bullshitting is my passion!”

The younger boy shrugs and leans forward on his elbows. “I’d rather you have helped me out with other things,” says Harry, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Louis shakes his head. “Yes, I know that. Because I have. Every night.”

Harry narrows his eyes, glaring at the older boy. “Why do I feel like you’re complaining?”

“I’m not —”

“Sounds like you are.”

“I’m not.”

Harry shrugs again, nudging his foot under the table. Louis smirks and hooks their ankles together. “I’m just worried is all. I don’t want us to be effecting your grades, yeah?”

“I’ll get it done.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Why do you say that?” Harry asks, sounding offended. 

Louis snorts. “‘Cause you’ve got the attention span of a goldfish and the motor skills of a sloth.”

Harry gives him a hurt look. “That’s rude.”

Harry,” the older boy says, rolling his eyes. He tries grabbing his hand but Harry pulls back. 

“Whatever,” he sniffs before standing up. He swings his backpack over his shoulders and Louis’ eyes follow the movement of his fingers, clenching at the thick navy strap. “Don’t come running to my door when your feet get cold and you want a cuddle. I’ve got work to do.”


It’s 3 hours ‘til midnight and Harry was right, his feet are cold. He hasn’t got a single pair of his own socks and he’s cursing the fact his bathroom has no tub because a bubble bath would be lovely right now. And he’s hungry. He fell asleep at 4 and Harry wasn’t there to wake him up.

“Fuck,” he mutters, rolling onto his stomach and trying to ignore the overpowering hunger that’s making him light headed. 

He hears a knock at his door and despite his earlier annoyance he’s actually praying it’s Harry.

“Harry?” He asks, sitting up quickly. 

“Niall,” Niall responds.

Oh. “Come in,” he replies, anyways. 

Niall does, slipping into his room in a pair of grey joggers and a black Boyce Avenue t-shirt. “Hey,” he smiles.

“Hi.” Louis slouches, looking rather underdressed in a white tee and plaid boxer shorts. “What brings you to my side of the hall?”

“Well,” he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed by Louis’ feet. “Zayn is busy avoiding human contact, Liam is talking to Danielle, which, I don’t even wanna deal with that.” Louis nods, mentally locking that gem away. He’ll have to bring that up tomorrow. “And I saw both you and Harry had your lights on so I figured you two weren’t busy for once.” 

“Harry’s got an essay,” Louis tells him. “I think I pissed him off, as well.”

Niall gives him a disbelieving look. “What did you do this time!” He asks, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Nothing! Well — nothing like, long term. I just, I think I offended him,” he mutters, shrugging. “Told him he wouldn’t be able to finish it in time.” 

“You should really just keep your mouth shut, mate,” says Niall, pulling at his blankets and getting comfortable. 


Niall shrugs. “You missed dinner.”

“Did I?” Louis asks in a high pitched voice, checking his cell phone. There’s nothing but a notification to update Fruit Ninja. He doesn’t play Fruit Ninja anymore, but he paid for it himself so he refuses to delete it. 

“Brought you crisps,” he offers, tossing him a bag out of his pocket. 

Louis looks excited for .249 seconds before examining it properly. “Niall, it’s not even half full.”

“Got hungry on the way up here.” Niall explains.

“I hate you,” Louis says, shoving a crisp in his mouth. “Utheleth,” he says through a mouthful of crisps. “Abtholutely utheleth.”


The next day is Friday, and an incredibly shitty Friday at that. 

Harry is late to class due to oversleeping, due to Louis oversleeping and not waking him up, due to Louis’ phone dying from resorting to Fruit Ninja all night while Niall went on about how Liam is so much better off without a girlfriend. 

Harry has that look on his face all day where you know he didn’t wake up to Louis latched onto his body like a lonely octopus. Louis doesn’t see him until fourth period and when he finally does Harry hugs him (hugs him) in the middle of a crowded hallway and Louis is sure for a moment that his feet left the ground. Like. His toes were in the air.

Come lunch time Louis is in a very sighy mood. He skims the cafeteria idly as he saunters in, notices Eleanor and her girlfriends cackling over something surely not that funny. He notices his art neighbor Ed and a short brown haired boy sitting in the back corner, next to the schools mural of multiracial kids holding hands. Ben and his teammates sit in the middle of the cafeteria, all eating some type of meat and looking as stereotypical as always.

Liam, Niall, and Zayn sit at a table against the window, and much to his displeasure, notices Harry’s seat in empty. Not even a coat to hold his place or anything. He pulls up to the table and looks at them sadly, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Where’s Harry?” He asks.

“Left something in his room, I think,” says Niall. “Said he’ll be back later.”

Louis’ eyebrows retract to an unamused line along his forehead. “You’re kidding.”

“If you’re going to be all bitey you might as well go up and find him,” Zayn tells him. “Seemed super out of it.”

Louis growls and spins on his heel, back over to the lunch line, quickly purchasing two bagels and two bottles of water. He fixes a cup of tea for himself and leaves the cafeteria, following the same route he walks every day: down the long, scary corridor with the stone walls, up the stairs with the dusty pictures of snooty, better-than-you alumni, turns left down the hall with the yellow door and obviously fake potted plants, and finally past the main recroom into his own, familiar hallway, smelling slightly of mothballs and lavender. Nobody knows why it smells that way, it just does.

Harry’s door in open and when he awkwardly shuffles inside - one hand holding his cup of tea and bagels trapped between his chest and forearm - he finds a very much asleep Harry slumped across his bed. 

Louis makes a face and contemplates leaving before deciding Harry was too pretty to leave alone. He’s dead asleep by now, still fully dressed and looking rather uncomfortable as he does so. His backpack is still on, slung across his shoulders and keeping him balanced on his side. 

Louis bites his lip in adoration and slides his own off his shoulders, dropping the bagels ungracefully on top of Harry’s desk. He starts by gently pushing the straps of his backpack off Harry’s broad shoulders, rolling it off his bed and wincing at the loud crash that followed. Harry doesn’t even budge.

Louis moves onto blazer next, sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed so he can tug the sleeves up and off his long limbs. Harry’s arm lifts with his movements and Louis can spot the tiny purple love bites that litter the underside of his arm; the ones that only his long sleeve jumpers and school jackets can hide. Louis leans down and kisses them for good measure, scooting down the bed to move onto his shoes.

Harry loves his Converse — plain white with a red stripe outlining the sole of the shoe. Louis unties them and slips the sneakers off his feet, revealing a Batman bandaid on the back of his ankle from an unfortunate blister that had nearly made Harry cry by the time the day was over, about one week back.

Harry takes excellent care of any injuries he gets, no matter how big or small, cleaning them and replacing his band aid nightly to prevent an infection. 

(‘One time my mum told me if you didn’t clean your cuts properly, they’ll get infected, and your limb could just fall off,’ Harry told him once, after he tripped up the stairs and scraped his knee. 

‘Harry,’ Louis had replied. ‘I don’t think that’s true.’

‘And what are you?’ Harry asked defensively, nursing his swollen knee with a bag of ice. ‘Some kind of doctor?’)

Louis leaves him in his t-shirt and (feeling quite perverted) takes off his trousers for him, knowing that Harry tends to get overheated when he’s sleeping. Harry makes a soft, satisfied noise in the back of his throat and turns onto his back, lifting his arms above his head and nuzzling his nose into the crook of his elbow. His t-shirt rides up and reveals the soft skin of his belly, looking long and warm and cosy and Louis nearly whimpers because he wants to get in bed and cuddle with him so, so badly.

He gets up and shakes his head, inhaling heavily to calm himself down. You can do it, he tells himself. You can resist it. Back away, Louis. Just. Back. A. Way. 

Louis turns around and slings his bag across his chest, just grabbing for his cup of tea when the bed creaks suddenly and before he can escape a soft ‘boo,’ leaves Harry lips. Not even a question, just, like. A request maybe, he’s not sure. What he is sure of is the fact that he’s already dropped his bag to the ground and made his way back to Harry’s bed.

“Hey, babe,” Louis says, lowering himself down to his knees and leaning back on his heels. 

“What time s’it?” He slurs, rubbing his eyes. 

Louis smiles. “You’ve only been asleep for like, 15 minutes. Just came to check on you.”

“Oh,” says Harry, blinking. “Cuddle?”

Louis sighs before nodding his head. “Mhm,” he hums.

“Tiiiired,” Harry moans, curling an arm around Louis’ waist once he’s laid down next to him. “M’not going back to class.”

“I know. Did you hand in your essay?”


Louis nods, kissing Harry’s plump lips briefly. “You are the cutest fucking thing when you’re asleep, have I told you that?”

“Mhm,” Harry replies, laughing softly. “What about when I’m awake?”

Louis shrugs. “You’re alright I guess.” 


It’s a new day. Saturday. Glorious, glorious, Saturday, filled with so much promise.

Louis rolls out of bed - well, technically, he rolls over Harry and out of bed - and gets up to piss, not bothering to shut the door before he slips into the shower. He brushes his teeth and uses Harry’s special shampoo, using his extra green loofa for shits and giggles because it feels sort of nice when he’s got the time. 

Harry wakes up not too long after and undresses in record time, joining him. They kiss for a long time before Harry pulls away and puts his special shampoo in Louis’ hands, wordlessly asking him to wash his hair for him. And Louis complies, because God spent a little more time on Harry’s hair and it feels like silk between Louis’ fingers. Not to mention, it gets Harry a bit horny, or a lot, depending on his mood.

They stand under the spray of water for a few minutes, Louis watching the way the shampoo would run out of Harry’s hair and down the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. Louis presses him against the wall and peppers soft kisses all over Harry’s face before kissing him square on the lips, pushing his tongue past Harry’s blessedly red lips and sucking his tongue into his mouth like a horny 12 year old. 

Harry reacts quickly, pressing his leg between Louis’ thighs and running his hands down his chest. “You look really hot when you’re all wet and horny,” says Louis, mouthing at Harry’s neck. His skin is radiating warmth and if there wasn’t water on them he’d probably be sweating, anyways. (Sex always got him hot, literally.) 

Louis continues along the length of Harry’s torso, kissing down his chest. Harry’s stomach is soft and unmuscled, any baby fat once there gone. Harry is a skinnier version of Louis at 15, narrow hips and long limbs where Louis was all soft curves and a big bum. Louis lowers himself onto his knees, looking at Harry in the eyes as he licks a stripe up the line of his cock. 

He continues to tease, giving kitten licks around the base of his cock until Harry is losing his mind, his lips red and raw from gnawing at them impatiently. “Louis, please —” he mutters, bucking his hips. Louis giggles, running a finger softly around his balls before leaning forward and taking one into his mouth. Harry nearly smacks his head against the tiled wall, moaning helplessly. “Oh fuck, you’re evil,” he whimpers, barely able to control his movements. 

Louis smirks, removing his mouth with a pop and moving onto his cock again. He swallows him greedily, letting his tongue glide over the head before lowering himself even more, mouth stretched obscenely as he tries to take Harry’s entire length. He touches the back of his throat and it hurts like hell, making these involuntary, unpleasant noises every time Harry would buck into his mouth. 

Harry seems to enjoy it though, practically wailing as Louis lets his fingers move behind his balls, fingering him slowly and thoroughly until Harry can’t even make coherent speech. When Louis stands up, Harry watches him with wide eyes, begging him to just fuck him

“Fuck me,” Harry says in a desperate voice.

Louis doesn’t respond, simply turns Harry around and tells him to hold onto something (very roughly, he might add). Harry chooses the built in towel holder, because it’s actually attached to the wall, so he doesn’t have to worry about like, an injury or anything. Louis holds his cock in his fist, needing zero preparation because seeing Harry lose himself like this always works him up anyways. 

Harry wiggles his arse impatiently and Louis gets the message, gripping his side and lining up with Harry’s entrance, pushing in slightly so just the head of his cock is inside him. 

“More,” he complains almost immediately. 

Louis watches the way Harry’s back arches obscenely. “Gimme a sec, yeah?”

“I can take it, just,” Harry mutters irritatedly, gripping the metal rod tighter before pushing himself back, forcing Louis halfway inside of him. He yelps in surprise and Louis does as well, heart racing because he wasn’t even thinking Harry would do that and what if he had fallen and Louis had to call an ambulance or something?

“Jesus Christ, Harry, you can’t do that!” Louis tells him. Harry ignores him. 

More,” he insists, widening his stance and bending forward even more. Louis braces himself and runs a hand up his back until his fingers are tangled in his hair and he’s yanking his head back. Harry moans, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Louis fucks him properly this time, harder and faster, because he knows anything less won’t be enough. 

Harry gasps in pleasure, tucking his face into the crook of his elbow to stop himself from screaming. He’s making these tiny noises over and over (ungh, ungh, yeah, oh, oh, oh —), every time Louis will thrust into him, shoving Harry forward even more. He can tell Harry’s about to come by the way his legs tremble, his knees practically buckling. His knuckles are white from their grip on the towel rack.

“Think,” Harry mutters hoarsely, neck straining from the way Louis’ pulling at his hair. “I might come. Like soon.” 

Louis makes a noise of agreement, his hips snapping at an almost bruising pace until finally he’s coming so hard it’s like he’s fucking blinded and all he can hear apart from the pounding in his ears is Harry moaning weakly underneath him, repeating his name over and over until it becomes a mush of words he can’t make out. When he finishes he wraps his arms around Harry’s chest and pulls him flat to his chest, kissing his cheek softly and nuzzling his nose against his neck. They wash up briefly under the remaining hot water and fall into bed with heavy limbs and messy kisses. 

Louis smiles at Harry as he blinks lazily, looking like a tired kitten. Except, well. Not, definitely not a kitten. Harry lays on his side and smiles dazedly at Louis, his eyes a vibrant shade of green and cheeks red and he looks like he’s about to say something extremely romantic or meaningful but instead he mumbles ‘I can’t feel my arse,’ and Louis barks a laugh. 

“You asked for it, doll,” he replies, toweling his wet hair and throwing it to the ground. He wanders to the other side of the room. Harry watches him idly from their shared bed and frowns when he realizes he’s not coming back. 

“What’re you doing?” Harry asks sadly.

Louis yawns, “Getting dressed,” Harry blinks like he doesn’t understand. “You know, that thing that most of the human population does on a daily basis.” 

“Oh,” Harry scrunches his nose like he’s just smelled something rotten. “Ew.”

Louis nods, patting his boyfriend’s cheek before rummaging through his drawers. He squeezes into a pair of grey khaki trousers and one of Harry’s wrinkled and obscure band t-shirts. He sits near Harry’s feet at the edge of the bed, rolling up his trousers right above his ankles and slipping into a pair of blue tennies.

Harry sits up to kiss him softly and Louis uses it to his advantage, curling his fingers around his forearms and slowly dragging him closer to the edge of the bed. Harry laughs, holding onto the bedpost to prevent falling off. “Stop it, you sneaky little bugger,” he mutters, gripping Louis’ thighs and lifting him onto his lap. 

“You’re still wet!” Louis cries, trying to get out of Harry’s hold. “Release me!” He wails, swatting at his chest. Harry cackles beneath him and pulls him closer. 

“What you get!” Harry replies, wrapping his arms around his torso and holding as much of him as he can. Louis struggles a bit more against the younger boy’s hold before giving up, letting Harry roll on top of him and kiss the life out of him. “I don’t like clothes,” he mutters against Louis’ lips. “Better without them.”

Harry continues kissing him, cupping his jaw loosely in the palm of his hand. Louis opens his mouth wider, quite enjoying being snogged like this. Usually he’s in control but like, it’s kind of nice, really. Being kissed. 

When Harry takes a breath, Louis’ head falls back on the pillows. He sighs, brushing the hair off his forehead because is it just him or is hot in here? Harry kisses his cheeks and his nose and his forehead before Louis has to literally push his face away because he’s giggling too much. (stopstopstopican’tbreathe, please, you’re smothering me!) Harry straddles his waist and gives the older boy a break, choosing to just stare at him instead. 

Weirdo, Louis wants to say. 

“I love you,” he says instead.

Harry blushes, like he wasn’t expecting it. “Love you more.”


The weekend goes by too quickly, Zayn decides. It’s 15:35 on Sunday and he’s managed to do absolutely nothing productive with his day, or, with the 4 hours he’s been awake.

“You know what I miss?” Zayn asks Niall, laying in a very uncomfortable position at the edge of his bed. He’s staring down at something on his cellphone as Niall watches last nights episode of The X Factor.

Niall gives a thoughtful hum while he licks powdered sugar off his thumb. He’s got a bag of donuts in his lap and hasn’t once asked Zayn if he’d like one. Zayn would be annoyed, but he doesn’t really have high expectations of Niall sharing his food. “Dunno. What?”

“When Louis didn’t exist in our lives, and Harry was available for more than 5 minutes of the fucking day,” Zayn replies, tossing his mobile frustratedly across his bed. “Those were the days.”

Niall gapes. “That’s harsh, mate.”

Zayn shrugs and slithers off the mattress, fixing his deflated quiff in the mirror above his dresser. He’s got on a thick red jumper and black joggers, his skin looking paler than usual under the florescent lighting. Was it possible red didn’t flatter his skin tone? “Yeah, well. I’ve texted Harry four times in the past six hours and he hasn’t responded once. I think that’s sort of harsh, too, don’t you?”

Niall looks thoughtful, tapping his chin. “I wouldn’t know myself,” he pauses, “But I’d say it’s pretty hard to text your friends back when you’re bumming. Especially with someone as pretty as Louis.”

“You are actually the weirdest fucking person,” Zayn mutters, shaking his head.

“I thought you liked Lou? Who doesn’t like Lou? Lou’s awesome.”

Zayn shrugs, sighing. “Dunno, whatever. I just — I’m frustrated with Harry, s’all. He’s such a little twat sometimes, like. I haven’t had a real conversation with him in weeks. I’ve known him since I was ten and now he gets a boyfriend and it’s like he’s fallen off the face of the earth.” 

“Him and Lou are in love, Zayn,” Niall sighs like it’s obvious. “They make each other happy. Isn’t that what we want? To see Harry happy?”

“But I don’t see Harry happy. I hear Harry happy.” 

“Yeah, well, don’t we all,” Niall says, picking at his thumb nail. “But Lou leaves in June and we have him for a whole ‘nother year.”

They hold each others gaze for about 30 seconds before Zayn lets his head fall back. “Just,” he groans, rubs his eyes tiredly. “Do you ever feel like you’re watching a train wreck when you look at them? They…they’re too in love with each other. What’s gonna happen when they have to be apart? Last Tuesday Louis had to take a test during lunch and I thought Harry was gonna have a stroke.” 

“Yeah,” says Niall. “‘s not gonna be easy. They’ve got like, this special bond, though. They could make it through anything.” 

“If Louis even touches one person at uni Harry will go bizerk. Like, properly. Shave his head or cut off his ear or something fucked up.” 

A smirk tugs at Niall’s lips. “Well, if anything, maybe they’ll get a based on a true story movie made about ‘em.”

Zayn looks at his reflection in the mirror. “Maybe,” he says, toying with his hair. “Who d’you think will play me?”

“I reckon…Freddie from Skins,” says Niall. “Luke Pascaomething. What ‘bout me?”

“Dunno,” Zayn ponders. “Does Ellen DeGeneres still do movies?”


That night Harry has a nightmare. Well, more or less, but it makes Harry sick to his stomach.

Harry has never had particularly realistic dreams. More like really bad soap operas, or if he’s lucky, a 90’s sitcom. Basically it begins with him sat in the back row of study hall, and, as usual, the chatty girls who sit in front of him are talking about Louis. 

But this time, it’s different: one of them looks mournful, the other quite angry.  

“It’s just gross,” one of them says. “Can you imagine them — together, in private, doing God knows what? I can’t believe we liked him!” 

“I don’t know, Grace. They seem really happy together. It’s just, like, I liked him so much, and now I know why he never noticed me! God, I just want to die!” 

Harry panics, wondering what in the world was going on. So, naturally, he leaves study hall to find Louis.This is unrealistic, see, because his study hall teacher is a very strict elderly woman who won’t let anyone move without a signed pass to do so. 

Alas, Louis is not in his usual art classroom. He tries texting him, but he hasn’t got his mobile number in his phone. “What the…?” He mutters to himself.

And then he hears a giggle. Which. Okay. He’s never liked the sound of giggling, especially not in empty hallways. That never leads to something good, ever.

He follows the noise and nearly screeches when he sees Louis holding hands with some blonde, modelesque stranger in an unfamiliar corridor. They’re kissing out in the open, like they couldn’t care who sees them. Louis has one arm wrapped around his neck, the strangers hand planted firmly on his bum, and Harry is pretty sure he’s lost feeling in his face.

“Louis?” Harry calls his name, several times, before Louis finally notices him. His hair is moving like there’s a breeze behind him and his facial expression could be best described as vaguely annoyed. 

Maybe this should be a warning bell something’s not right. “What do you want, Harry?” 

“What do I want?” He cries, feeling pained. Louis rolls his eyes. “What are you doing — who is this?”

“My new boyfriend,” says Louis, propping a hand on his hip. “His name is Chad. He’s twenty-one and knows how to drive. We’re in love.” 

Harry wants to cry, so he does. Very loudly. “But why?”

“Because he’s not ashamed of me, Harry. He loves me and kisses me in front of his friends and does everything a good boyfriend would do. Unlike somebody.” 

Harry gasps, “I thought we had something special, Lou!”

“Don’t call me that!” Louis snaps. “Chad and I connect on a different, more intellectual level. He’s mature.”

Harry blinks back tears. “But, I — I love you, Louis! Please, take me back, I’ll do anything!” He shouts, desperately. He feels like he’s crying but his face is dry. What is happening?

“It’s too late, Harry. You waited too long; I wasn’t gonna stick around forever as your dirty little secret!” 

Louis spins around dramatically after that, beckoning his boyfriend, Chad. Together they walk down a hallway with no doors at the end of it. 

Harry drops to his knees as Louis disappears into the quickly appearing fog and throws his head back, screaming, “NOOOOOOOOO!”, and waving his fists in the air. In the distance, he can hear Louis telling him to calm down and wake up. He’s confused for a moment, and then.

And then he wakes up, reality hitting him like a punch in the face. Louis is hovering above him, squeezing his face between his hands so his cheeks are squished. Harry blinks and stares back at Louis with an equally surprised expression. 

“Are you okay?” Louis asks incredulously once he’s sure Harry is awake. “You were like, yelling, Harry.” 

“I was?” Harry asks roughy.

“Well, kind of,” he says softly, moving his hands. “Kind of like…a painful, moaning noise. But you were going, ‘noooo! please! don’t!’. Thought that stuff only happened on TV.” 

Harry blushes, holding his hands over his face and turning on his side. 

“Hey, hey,” Louis pets the back of his head soothingly, laying behind him. (This was exciting for him. He was never big spoon.) “S’okay. You’re okay.”

They’re silent for a bit, Harry mainly trying to collect himself and Louis trying to fit his arms around Harry’s stomach in a comfortable manner. 

“Had a nightmare,” Harry confesses after a while.

“I assumed.” 

“It was terrible. One of the worst, and I once dreamt that rats bit my toes off. So.”

Louis rubs his arm comfortingly. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he decides. “Rather not. Just. Hold me, yeah?”

“‘Course. Wouldn’t wanna do anything else.”

Harry reaches up and toys with the chain that hangs over his heart. They fall asleep like that, and if they both happen to be late to class that next morning, neither really complains. 


The next day Harry and Louis are late to class, and Harry takes the extra time to make himself look nice. His hair is neatly combed and his blazer is ironed and his breath is extra minty. He wears a clean pair of trousers and one of his favorite pair of shoes that Louis has a particular obsession with. When Louis sees him he makes a point of messing up his hair but leaves the rest as it is.

Harry is pleased by his reaction. See: today is important. Today, Harry is asking Louis something very, very important. And, who knows. Maybe looking extra cute will get him a quicker answer.

Okay, so it’s not like he’s nervous. He’s just never asked anybody to do this and he’s pretty sure Louis’ never been asked this either and it’s just a big deal because first love, first time, first everything, you know, that whole thing. 

The day goes by slowly, but maybe that’s just because his shoes are so painfully uncomfortable they make it a task just to walk from class to class. He sees Louis in between classes twice and blows him a cheeky kiss that Louis pretends to catch and place on his cheek. Harry lets out a really weird laugh that he’s glad no one is around to hear. 

When his last class ends his hair has gone significantly flatter and his feet are on fire but he doesn’t care because he needs to get Louis alone. He texts him to meet him in his room and Louis asks him to bring food so, of course, he does. 

After he’s got that bit done, he practically sprints to his dorm, scalding himself with hot tea a number of times until finally he’s reach his door and Louis is in front of him, showering him with kisses. “You got me tea!” He cries, taking a grateful sip and hugging Harry tighter. “You’re too good to me, Styles.”

Harry smiles and leads him to his bed, toeing off his shoes on the way there. “How was your day?”

Louis shrugs tiredly, laying his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Boring, long, stupid. Failed my maths test. I wanna die,” he says. Harry frowns uncertainly. “How about yours?”

“Um. Fine. My feet hurt a bit.”

Louis nods, kissing his cheek briefly and peeling his sweater off over his head. He looks like he’s doing that thing where he undresses and steals Harry’s much comfier clothes and then takes a nap and that’s not gonna work, ‘cause, like, he needs him awake for this portion. 

“Hey, so,” Harry starts, turning toward Louis. “This upcoming break is in like…4 weeks, I think.”

“I know, I’m pumped.” 


“Of course, two weeks off,” Louis says, chucking off his pants. 

Harry nods like he couldn’t agree more. “Totally. So. Um. What were you gonna do?”

“I dunno. I hadn’t made any plans yet,” Louis says, looking at Harry expectantly and shuffling closer to him. “What are you going to be doing?”

Harry blinks. “Um. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

Louis nods, like, go on.

“I was just wondering, ‘cause like, I’ve been thinking about it. Um. Would you perhaps, er, like to come and stay with me over break? Like, at least for a little while?” He asks awkwardly.

“Well, now that you ask, that sounds like a wondrous idea!” He responds, smiling ridiculously. “About time you finally asked me.”

Harry nods, still smiling. “Yay,” he says weakly, still nervous. “And um. One more thing.”

“Kay,” says Louis. Harry bites his lip, hesitantly. “Ask me.”

“I — I’m just nervous, I don’t want you to feel weird or pressured or something, I dunno, —”

Spit it out!

“Alright!” He says defensively. “I just. I’ve been telling myself I should do it for months but it’s never felt like the right time, and it sort of feels like the right time now, and, I. Um. I wanna tell my family about us, and I was just thinking maybe — you could be there with me when I do it?”

Harry swallows thickly, waiting for a response. “You don’t have to be the one to say it, I just want you there, with me. I think they’ll really love you, I know they will.” Harry adds hopefully, grabbing Louis’ hand tightly. Louis just continues breathing shallowly.

“Wow,” is all Louis says. Harry was not expecting this long of a pause, if he’s being honest. He’s about to tell him nevermind, I shouldn’t have even asked, I’m sorry, when suddenly Louis’ breath catches and his eyes get all watery. “I didn’t think you’d ever ask me that.” 

“Well, I don’t ‘think I could do it without you,” Harry tells him, nudging Louis’ smaller hand and lacing their fingers together. “Please say yes.” He says hopefully.

“Of course I will. Absolutely, yes,” Louis’ voice wavers as he speaks. “‘M really happy you asked me, is all. Sorry.”

Harry lets out a relieved sigh and kisses Louis happily, simply, holding his face between his hands. Louis covers his hands with his smaller ones and makes an excited noise. “Love you, love you, love you,” he mutters between kisses.

Louis is smiling so widely his cheeks hurt and when they stop kissing he pounces on him, wrapping his arms around his neck so tightly Harry loses the ability to breathe. Harry thinks Louis might be crying for real now, but he never pulls back far enough to see for himself.


hiiii like i said this chapter was mainly just louis/harry but next chapter i’ll include perrie/zayn and what’s going on with liam and danielle. ~~~~~~~ idk if you didn’t like this chapter just don’t even tell em pls bc i know it was really weak. sorry for the wait, won’t happen again. 

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