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home is wherever i’m with you; chapter 16.

[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] [chapter 15]

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, rly long chapter

previously: harry asked louis to come to his house over break and tell his family about them. louis was really happy about it. zayn doesn’t want to like perrie but louis wants him to. zayn hasn’t hung out w/ harry in forever and he’s sad about it :( liam is AWOL lately bc ~sneaky reasons~. and it’s a week until harry’s 16th birthday!!!!! and louis has a surprise from him!!!!!

(one week until harry’s birthday)

Harry is drifting in and out of sleep when he hears a loud clatter from the toilet, positive from the way Louis curses that he’s just tripped over the bathroom rug again. He’s done this several times before while rushing, and each time he ends up falling onto the shower door.

“Fucking hell!” He hears him whisper harshly. Harry frowns, checking his alarm clock for the time. He falls back asleep briefly, only to be woken up again 5 minutes later by the sound of footsteps. It’s 8 AM, and Louis is halfway out the door.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, voice rough from sleep. Louis silently curses himself, slipping back inside.

“Heading out with Niall,” Louis says, giving a quick smile.

Harry pouts. “Why?”

Louis thinks for a moment, clearing his throat. “Errands.”

Harry rubs at his eyes tiredly, sitting up. “Errands?” He repeats, disbelievingly. “What do you have to do on a Saturday morning?”

“Just things, Harry,” Louis says, propping a hand on his hip.

“What things?” He whines, pulling the covers up so they fall over his shoulders.

“None of your business things, that’s what!” Louis snaps, eyes wide. “Now - stop asking because, it’s really not a big deal, and you should just go back to bed. I’ll be back later in the afternoon.”

Harry pouts, blinking slowly up at him. “Can I have a kiss?”

Louis groans dramatically, muttering under his breath, “I guess,” before dropping a loud kiss on Harry’s awaiting lips. “Needy bugger.” He says, kissing him twice more.

“Bye,” Harry frowns, watching his boyfriend leave, hips swishing as he does so.

“Ta-ta!”

The door slams behind him.

*

Harry does not go back to sleep. He can’t, and it’s not just because Louis isn’t there. Harry hasn’t been sleeping normally for over 3 weeks; sometimes he falls asleep at 3 AM and wakes up in a cold sweat, and sometimes he doesn’t sleep at all.

He groans, rolling out of bed so he lands half on the floor, legs above his head on the mattress. All he wanted to do was have a snuggle with his boyfriend and now he’s alone, and cold, in his bedroom. He blows the hair out of his eyes and blindly searches around himself, grabbing at his mobile once he finds it under in the pocket of old jeans.

Harry figures Liam is probably awake.

You awake? xx He types, pressing send.

He waits about 30 seconds for a response. in the caff alon come join me man

Omw x

He shifts uncomfortably, picking up a hoodie and tugging it over his head. His unruly hair frizzes, sticking to face, but he does nothing to fix it.

Harry finds Liam sitting alone at an empty table in the middle of the cafeteria, a piece of bacon halfway out his mouth.

“Hazza!” He cheers, waving as if he wasn’t in clear view. “Looking fit,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Harry mutters, collapsing into the seat across from him.

Liam laughs, breaking off a piece of toast and folding it into his mouth. “What are you doing up this early on a Saturday?”

Harry shrugs. “I dunno. Couldn’t sleep, really, and Lou left with Niall, so,” he rambles on uncomfortably, fingers jittering as he picks at his nails. “Why are you all sweaty?”

“Morning jog,” Liam replies, and Harry nods. “You don’t look well, mate. Like - you look ill.”

“Wow, thanks, Li.”

“I’m just worried! Have you been sleeping well? Are things going well between you and Louis?”

Harry blinks, so strung out he thinks one eye is closing before the other. “Yes. Perfectly, thanks.”

“You sure?”

Yes,” Harry says bitingly. Liam just picks at his food. “Why? Has he said something?”

“I was just wondering! He hasn’t said anything,” he insists. “In fact, he’s seemed happier than usual lately. With the whole him going to yours over break thing.”

“He told you?” Harry asks, smiling.

Liam laughs, raising his eyebrows as he chews on his eggs. “That’s putting it lightly, mate.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“He talks about it a lot?” His heart feels lighter in his chest, smiling like an idiot.

“I’d say 90% of the time we spend together.”

Harry picks a piece of fruit off his tray. A small, sad part of him thought he might have scared Louis off; he’s been avoiding him for the past week, always running around with Niall and coming up with shit excuses when he can’t make it to meal times.

“Huh,” he says around a slice of cantaloupe. “So, do you know where they are then?”

Liam shrugs. “Dunno mate — it’s under lock and key whatever it is. They won’t tell me.”

Harry’s eyebrows knit together and immediately he pulls out his phone.

Where are you? he sends to Louis.

“I’m gonna go get food real quick,” says Harry, getting out of his chair and dragging his feet to the line for food. No one else is in line but him.

He gets a bagel and a fruit cup and coffee and sighs emphatically as he sits back down.

“You got a text, from Loubear.”

Harry blushes, scrabbling for his mobile. “Just a joke nickname, I don’t actually call him that —” he tries to explain. Liam doesn’t seem to buy it. “Whatever.”

He opens the text with shaky fingers. He needs coffee desperately.

I told you Im running errands you weirdo, leave me alone!

Harry scrunches up his nose.

Don’t be mean to me :’( x

I love you but it’s personal business! Now stop trying to figure it out !!

Go back to bed, start a puzzle

Personal business? So Niall can know but I cant… ?

Harry.

It’s not big deal, I’m not crying into my bagel or anything ..

IT’S A SURPRISE GOD DAMN IT

Oooh…

-.-

like a birthday surprise? ;)

You’re ruining it, go play with Liam

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx :)<333333333333

love youu

Love you too, you nosy bugger

By the way i saw you wore that blue jumper today :)

Did you like it ?

Yes, it’s quite cute. x :D

Youre quite cute ;)

;0)

he’s got a wonky nose

You’ve got a wonky nose

;000)

Harry giggles under his breath, readying a response of ‘your nose looks like this :3)’ before Liam interrupts him. “Harry? Did you hear me?”

“Huh — ? No, sorry. What’d you say?”

“I said, do you want to go wake Zayn? We could play Fifa?”

“I don’t think Zayn will move for anything before 11 on a Saturday.”

Liam shrugs. “He’ll probably just sleep through it, anyways.”

*

They play Fifa for three hours.

Zayn sleeps through the entire thing, until he wakes at noon, telling them to get the fuck out of his room.

*

Louis doesn’t come back until 5. There are shopping bags hanging off his arms and he’s so exhausted he immediately drops them on the floor and collapses into bed.

“Are all those for me?” Harry asks, bashfully blinking his eyes.

“No, those are for me,” Louis replies, and for a moment Harry thinks he’s joking. Until he realizes he’s dead serious.

Harry pulls out a size small jumper and pulls an affronted face. “Louis, what the fuck?”

“I need clothes for our vacation!” Louis yells back defensively.

“We’re going to my house, not Paris! How did you afford all this?”

“You may not know this because you’re naked half the time, but clothes are a necessity!” Louis almost yells. “Not to mention, all of my clothes are either old, unflattering, or under your bed. I have a Polo shirt from 2009 in my closet. How do you think that makes me look?”

“Like a normal person?”

Louis sighs, rolling onto his back and crossing his ankles. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, plopping onto the foot of their bed.

“Because,” Louis reasons. Harry raises his eyebrows. “Because, you’re not the one meeting your boyfriends entire family and it’s a little nerve wracking! Not to mention you’re a posh little fuck and I don’t want to look like, I dunno. Stupid.”

Harry is silent for a moment. “Louis,” he says quietly, resting a comforting hand on his knee. “You always look stupid.”

Louis jolts forward, punching Harry in the shoulder. “Don’t be a dick!”

Harry laughs, rubbing his shoulder. “Ow, fuck, that really hurt.”

“Good.”

Louis looks annoyed, sitting back on the bed cross legged. Harry crawls over to his side, snaking his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, babe, I’m just trying to make you laugh.”

“Well, you’re not funny, so I’m unsure of how you thought you’d accomplish that,” Louis sniffs.

Harry arches a brow, pinching his side. Louis squeals, pulling away, but Harry holds onto him.

They kiss and it’s messy. Louis melts into it, arms winding around Harry’s neck and Harry’s hands resting on Louis’ hips. Harry whimpers when he bites his lip and presses his chest closer to Louis’.

“You’re always hot when you’re feisty, you know,” Harry tells him, sitting down and pulling Louis into his lap. Louis makes a noise of acknowledgment and grinds down roughly onto Harry’s hard on. “F-uck.”

Louis pulls away and takes off his shirt. “Missed you today, even if you are a complete brown noser.”

“I miss you always, even if you are a complete tease,” Harry replies. Louis smiles, tucking his curls behind his ears, kissing his temples. Harry glows under his attention.

They kiss again and Louis lets his eyes fall closed, playing with the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck, riling him up. Louis pushes Harry onto his back, takes off each item of clothing he’s got on and stops. “Love you always?” he asks, looking at Harry in the eyes like he’s waiting for confirmation.

Harry nods automatically, eyes large with sincerity; a promise without words. Louis leans forward to kiss him and when they part Harry’s head falls back to the pillows, chocolate curls fanning out and framing his face. His otherwise milky white skin has turned pink; he always turns shades darker before they have sex, like he’s bashful but completely turned on at the same time. (which is funny, because Harry is anything but bashful. Maybe it’s all for show, Louis thinks sometimes.)

Louis crawls backwards, kissing a line of wet kisses down his chest and stomach before taking Harry’s cock in his mouth and resting his hands on his thighs, bobbing his head shallowly. He tightens his grip as he forces more of Harry’s length between his lips, loving the feeling of his soft, delicate skin under his fingers.

(Louis loves Harry’s thighs, especially lately. He’s been growing more and gaining weight now that he hasn’t got the metabolism of an adolescent. Like, he’s got meat on him and sometimes when they’ve got time Louis well lay between his legs and sink his teeth into them, driving him crazy. Harry’s got countless bite marks and bruises down there, and he collects them proudly.)

He moves his hands before deciding to wrap his arms completely around Harry’s legs, lifting them so his knees hook over Louis’ shoulders and Louis’ fingers can still dig into the flesh of his thighs.

Harry moans at how close they are, moves his hips just barely so he’s further down Louis’ throat, legs dangling over his back. Louis, whose gag reflex has been out of the picture for years now, closes his eyes and takes in as much of Harry as he can, ‘til his nose is brushing against the light hairs beneath Harry’s stomach.

The younger boy tenses, muscles visibly straining as he tries not to yell out in pleasure. His jaw is locked in a silent moan, throat pale white and vulnerable. Louis wants to bite it, and he would, if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

“God, Lou, you’re — perfect,” he whispers, barely audible.

Louis’ eye flicker up the length of Harry’s body, finds Harry’s eyes closed, biting hard on his bottom lip and gripping the pillow on either side of his head. Louis eases off Harry, taking a breath and using his hands instead. He wonders if Harry could ever come twice in one go while tracing a finger along a vein down Harry’s cock.

Harry squirms at the lack of warmth. Louis smirks, sucking the head back into his mouth and curling his tongue around it. He moves his hands, groping Harry’s balls so he moves his hands to Louis’ hair, forcing his head down even more.

Louis hums around his cock before pulling off. He moves his arms so Harry’s legs fall weakly to the bed and Louis spreads them further apart, pushing them back toward Harry’s chest so he can focus on something else.

“Oh fuck,” Harry whimpers in anticipation, knowing what comes next. Harry loves this, he knows.

Louis tells him to hold his knees back and runs a dry finger over Harry’s hole, grinning madly as Harry sobs needily. He gets on his knees and leans over Harry, holds his fingers in front of his face and says “suck.”

Harry does so eagerly, wetting them sufficiently before running his tongue over each of them, able to taste himself. Louis watches him with hazy eyes, licking his own lips before pulling his fingers away and resuming his previous position.

He inches forward, flicking his tongue over his hole again before pressing the flat of tongue against it, listening to Harry’s noises of encouragement. He pulls back and lifts a finger to press against his entrance, rubbing him dryly before pushing inside. There’s little resistance but he still reaches for the lube in the side table anyways.

Harry groans when he pours the lube onto him, rubs it around his entrance before pushing inside of him to his knuckle. He wiggles his finger around a bit, pushing in just barely, purposely teasing. Harry is oddly silent but he knows what’s next. He pauses for a whole 30 seconds, waits for it.

Fuck, Louis! Just do it!” Harry finally spits out, hips rolling like he can’t quite help it. Louis chuckles softly, pressing a second finger into him and pushing until his fingers can’t go any further. Harry’s breath is labored, so fucking ready for it.

Louis moves his fingers, scissors him until he can fit a third inside of him and Harry makes a low, guttural noise, fucking back onto his fingers with little consideration of how loud the springs of their mattress are squeaking.

“So needy,” Louis says carefully. Harry just nods.

“You should just fuck me now, I think,” he exhales shakily. “I think that’d be amazingly great if you just fucked me, please. Please.”

“Hmm…” Louis ponders. He curls his fingers inside of him so Harry moans, back arching off the mattress. “I suppose I could.”

Harry nods. “Yes, you definitely can. Always fuck me so good.”

Louis smirks naughtily, reaches into the side table again for a condom but Harry knocks it out of his hand, shaking his head. “No, none of that. Fuck me.”

“Alright, tiger, I’ll fuck you,” Louis mutters, like it’s a chore. Harry bares his teeth playfully, growling.

Louis pours more lube into his hand, covering the length of him and slowly jerking himself off. Harry watches him intently, pupils blown and irises dark. Louis grabs Harry’s legs with sticky fingers and hooks his ankles over his shoulders, pushing inside of him in one quick, fluid movement.

Harry can’t keep his eyes open as he does, cheeks turning an impossible shade of red as he moans weakly beneath him. Louis curls his fingers around Harry’s ankles and quits the teasing as he thrusts into Harry as fast as he can, grunting a bit as he does.

Louis’ topped with quite a few lads before, but he’s never done it like this. It’s hard work, really. Louis’ eighteen and has a strong, ongoing relationship with chocolate biscuits; he’s not exactly built like a porn star.

Harry likes it fast, though. Likes it hard and rough and Louis doesn’t know when exactly it started but one night Louis was taking him from behind and Harry just started slamming himself against the older boy, insisting he needed moremoremore. And really, what was he supposed to do? Say no?

“Wait, wait,” Harry mutters suddenly, holding Louis’ hip so he knows to stop. Louis slows down, looking at him, confused. Harry moves his legs so his feet press against the mattress and he sits up, pushing Louis to a seated position. “Wanna — can I do it? In your lap, I mean.”

Louis blinks.

Harry rests his hands on Louis’ tanned shoulders and crawls into his lap, giving him a thorough kiss before dropping down. Louis rests his hands behind him and watches as he takes control.

Harry reaches behind him to grip Louis’ cock, lines him up with his entrance and shoves himself down, moaning a long, drawn out yes that sends shivers up Louis’ spine.

“Oh fuck,” Harry says, repeating his movements again and again until he’s just bouncing up and down on Louis’ cock and Louis’ expression is bliss as he weakly meets his thrusts. They’re loud as fuck and Louis knows it but he wouldn’t stop for anything right now, holding onto the mattress as he bucks up into him. Harry whimpers, burying his face into Louis’ shoulder and moving faster, needily.

“Want you to come for me, babe,” Louis tells him, reaching in between them to jerk him off. Harry loses his pace then, bucking into Louis’ hand. Louis bites down onto the side of his neck and Harry growls again, chasing his orgasm however he can.

“Want to come for you. Harder,” he begs, and Louis grabs his hips, forcing him down into his cock so hard he sees stars; nearly screaming as he comes into Louis hand, hips bucking wildly as he rides out his orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, yeah,” he whimpers, dragging his lips across Louis’ collarbones and pressing soft kisses against them.

Louis follows him immediately, pressing their chests together as he comes inside of him, moaning into his neck. Harry shivers involuntarily and curls his arms around Louis’ neck, muttering soft i love you’s into his skin.

They sit there for ages, just breathing raggedly and exchanging kisses, intertwined with each other completely.

“You’ve not been on top in forever,” Louis states, hugging him close.

“Forgot how hard it is,” Harry replies, laying on his side and pulling Louis down next to him. “My thighs are gonna be sore for days.”

Louis smirks. “I’d love to help. You know how I love them so.”

Harry grins, eyes shutting against his will. “I’m too lazy to shower,” he mumbles. He can feel Louis’ come dripping down his backside but he’s too tired to care.

“In the morning,” Louis says, nodding. “Everything is better in the morning.”

“I like the way you think,” Harry mutters.

It’s silent as they fall closer and closer to sleep.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry whispers, nudging Louis’ shoulder.

“Mmph,” he responds intelligently.

Harry smiles into his neck. “I liked when you called me tiger. Do that again.”

“I’ll keep it in my mind.”

*

The next day Harry wakes to a text from Zayn, jolting him awake as his mobile vibrates on the wooden surface of their side table. He picks it up, knocking a bottle of lube of the way and reading it through bleary eyes.

wanna get a coffee today?

Harry scrubs at his face groggily and texts him back, using Louis’ head as a resting surface.

Yeah I’ll be down in a sec .xx

Zayn replies instantly. i meant like in Leeds, where u n Lou go

Oh, Really?

well i’m assuming ur free since i heard u n lou last nite

and u dont fuck 2 days in a row

Harry blushes and gasps slightly, sitting up straight.

How the fuck would you know that?!

it was just a guess but im assuming i was rite

Wow … Im embarrassed.

r we getting coffee, or..?

Give me 10 minutes .x

Harry kisses Louis on the forehead and takes a shower, scrubbing himself fresh and clean and dressing in jeans and a puffy coat, because he’s still fifteen and he’ll wear a puffy coat if he wants to. He meets Zayn in the lounge and can sense him judging his attire.

“Loving the outfit, man.”

Harry gives a twirl, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Ready to go?”

Zayn nods, looking up at his friend before giving him an are you fucking kidding me? sort of look over his shoulder. Harry turns around, finds a very tired looking Louis walking toward him.

Louis holds up both hands defensively. “Don’t give me that look, Malik,” he says. “Smarty Pants over here forgot his wallet.”

Harry looks sheepish, giving a quick ‘thanks’ and tucking it into his back pocket.

“Nice, Haz.”

“I just woke up!” Harry says defensively, crossing his arms.

Louis rolls his eyes, grabbing the collar of his jacket and giving him a quick kiss goodbye. Then another, and another, and one more, until Zayn is gagging and yanking Harry by his sleeve.

They make it to Leeds by noon and Harry’s stomach is growling near violently. He feels like he hasn’t seen Zayn in ages, though, so they talk mindlessly about as much as they can, bickering back and forth when Harry uses the wrong word and Zayn corrects him like he always does.

It’s the little things, really.

The café him and Louis go to is called Genevieve’s, and it’s perfect in every way, at least to them. Harry pushes through the heavy glass door and sighs contentedly, reveling in the heat and smell of espresso wafting around him. “Isn’t it wonderful?” He asks.

Zayn looks around skeptically. “I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure St. Peters Basilica was actually modeled after this very café.”

Harry gives him an unamused look. “I think it’s quite nice. You don’t have to be rude just because it’s not your typical Starbucks look alike.”

“I take way too many boring art courses and consume far too little coffee to be apologetic at this point,” says Zayn, sauntering into the queue of branded hipsters.

“Ooh, I’m Zayn, I know art. Look at me and my big words,” Harry sneers, wiggling his fingers around his face.

“Look at me and my big words?” Zayn repeats, scoffing in return. “How do you look at someone elses words, Harry?”

Harry looks at him seriously. “I think you’re just trying to annoy me now, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Habit,” Zayn says simply, shrugging.

The barista at the counter clears his throat and they both look up, not realizing it was their turn to order. “Oh, my bad,” Harry apologizes. “Can we have two large dark coffees?” he asks politely. “And, can mine have quite a lot of sugar in it?” He tacks on. The barista nods. “Oh, and cream, too. Sorry.”

The boy laughs. “Name?”

“Harry.”

“I’ve a cousin named Harry!” The barista says excitedly, writing his name in narrow Sharpie letters. “Good lad, very antisocial though. He talks to his birds quite a lot.”

Zayn snorts. “They have a lot in common.”

“You talk to birds?” Asks the barista.

“Quite the opposite actually,” Zayn smirks. The barista looks confused for a moment before his mouth turns into an ‘o’. He nods, grinning as he fixes their orders.

“I apologize for my friends mood,” says Harry, elbowing him sharply. “He’s run out of hair wax and he’s absolutely devastated about it. It tends to make him snappy.”

“Especially toward baristas with neck tattoos,” Zayn adds.

Harry gives him a warning look, ever so polite. Zayn just shrugs again.

“You know what I’ve always wondered?” Harry says suddenly, looking genuinely curious. “Is there like, a different name for a male barista? I mean, shouldn’t it be something more masculine? Borista? Baristo? I don’t know, barista seems so unfair.”

The boy shrugs, handing him his cup of coffee. “Not quite sure about that one,” he responds. “You can call me whatever you’d like, though.” He winks.

Winks.

Harry blinks in confusion before blushing so hard even his ears turn red. “Oh, okay then. Thanks.” He says, maybe too loudly, before spinning on his heel and heading toward the sitting area. Zayn pays and follows Harry, waiting half a minute before promptly bursting into laughter so violent he nearly spills his coffee.

“Holy fuck, Jesus Christ — you are so fucking awkward,” he cries out before falling into another fit of laughter. “Sometimes I forget ‘cause you’ve no need to try and flirt anymore, but. That was epic.”

Harry, still blushing, makes a displeased face. “Epic?” He spits, like it leaves a bad taste on his tongue. “That word is stupid. It was far from epic. The Olympics were epic, that was just uncomfortable.”

“Jesus Christ,” Zayn breathes, still shaking from laughter. “I’m still laughing at baristo.”

*

Back at school, Louis and Niall and Liam have been lazing in the common room four hours, waiting for something exciting to happen. Nothing happens though, which is why when Niall suggests they try and build a snowman outside the boys cheer like he’s just figured out how the fuck gravity works.

They change into warmer clothes and Louis has to borrow a pair of Liam’s boots because the only footwear he owns are tennis shoes and slippers. He looks quite cute, he thinks, in his white snow pants and red ski jacket. Even his bum looks great in the tight material. He considers sending a picture to Harry, but he doesn’t think a picture can would it justice.

They trample each other running outside, Louis’ boots too big for him as he kicks his way through the feet of snow blanketing their hill. Niall and Liam follow behind him like excited puppies, stumbling along the way.

Louis stops and begins making a spot for himself, drawing a circle with the toe of his boot. “Do you think I could make a snowman with curly hair?” He wonders.

“Dream big, Lou,” says Niall, falling on his back and spreading his arms and legs out wide. “I’m gonna make a snow angel.”

Liam sighs, kneeling on the ground and rolling the bottom piece of his snowman through the snow. “Forgot how hard this was.”

“I think I’ve pulled something in my back,” Louis adds, wincing as he attempts to move the chunk of snow further. They work concentratedly for 30 minutes, exchanging comments here and there. Niall ends up making a snow angel and walks through it several moments later.

The hair on Louis’ snowman looks more like an afro than anything else, so he knocks it off and goes back to fixing it’s face.

Behind his snowman he can hear the sound of the exit door opening and booming laughter erupting from inside. Louis groans. He hates people, especially people louder than him.

Louis peeks his head out from behind his snowman and realizes with a prominent wave of nausea it’s Eleanor, her two friends, and Ben. He turns around, freezing like a squirrel in the middle of traffic, unsure of where to go. His eyes dart around wildly at Liam and Niall who look about the same.

“Louis?” Eleanor asks in a familiar shrill tone. “Louis, oh my God, what’re doing out here?”

“I’m going to throw up,” he states in a low voice, loud enough for only Niall and Liam to hear. Eleanor and her friends frolic down the hill until they’re face to face and Louis spins around, a phony smile plastered on his face. “I could ask you the same thing!”

Eleanor laughs, adjusting her beanie. “We got so bored we thought we’d just roam around, y’know. Mind if we join you guys?”

Louis pulls his sleeves over his gloved fingers, eyes Ben over her shoulder, a grin pulling creepily at his face. “Well,” he mutters unintelligently.

Liam cuts him off. “We’ve been out here forever, we were just about to head inside. I think Niall’s caught a cold.”

They all look at Niall, who sniffs. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Aw,” Eleanor whines. “At least stay a little longer!”

Louis exhales, nostrils flaring as he turns his back on them. “I don’t know! Niall’s sick and we’ve got to eat soon, so —” he tries to finish, but he’s interrupted by a hard smack of compacted snow on his back. “Ow.”

He turns around to find a smug looking Ben, hands wet with melted snow. “Slipped.”

(In the sun, reflecting white from the snow, his hair looks blonder than usual. He hasn’t had a haircut in months and now it hangs over his eyes and covers his ears. He thinks, with a sharp pang in his chest, he looks eerily similar to Ethan.)

Louis swallows dryly and turns around with his back stiff only to be hit again moments later. Louis groans and spins toward Ben, throwing the snow he’s got in his hand at him with maybe a bit too much force.

“Oi! I got you from behind, that hit my face.” The blondes Eleanor tows around with her giggle at his perverted innuendo and Louis can’t breathe, wants to tell them to fucking leave because he was having a perfectly fine day before them.

Eleanor rolls her eyes. “Ben, stop. You’re not funny.”

Ben mocks her eye roll, tossing a snowball at her head and knocking the beanie off her chocolate curls. “Fuck — you’re an arse!” She steps forward to shove at his shoulders angrily, not finding his humor endearing.

While Eleanor adjusts her beanie, the blondes daintily throw more snowballs at Niall and Liam, who respond unthinkingly. They giggle, holding up their hands and running behind Eleanor, who gets hit in return. “Are you fucking —” she curses, gritting her teeth as she bends over to make her own. She aims it at Niall, but it hits Liam by accident.

Louis stands watching, unamused and slightly miserable.

Liam nudges him with his elbow, playfully throwing a handful of powdered snow at him. “D’you wanna leave?” He asks.

Louis smirks, feeling relieved for a second before he’s hit in the back of the head. His face falls. “I’m going to kill him,” he says deadpan.

“No, you’re not.” Liam assures him.

Louis rolls the ball of snow around in his hands and turns around, only to realize Ben was closer than he’d originally thought, merely inches away and towering over him. Louis squeaks in surprise and spins around, trying to scurry away before Ben grabs him by the shoulders. Louis’ legs, however, don’t realize this, and he keeps kicking until they’re tumbling forward, Ben landing heavily on top of him.

His bum hits the surface of ice below the snow and tears spring to his eyes, weakly trying to get out of the tangle of limbs they’ve created. Louis pushes at his shoulders telling him to get off, but Ben just laughs, pinning his arms to the ground beside his legs. Louis can’t breathe. “Get off me, please,” he mutters weakly.

Ben smiles but it’s not nice. He sits up, tightening his grip as he mutters, “You know you like it.”

No, I really don’t,” he growls. “You’re slimy and gross and you reek of cologne.”

That changes things. “What the fuck is your problem, mate? I try and play around and you’re rude about it. Stop acting like you’re so much better than everyone,” he spits, insulted.

“I don’t -” Louis tries to say.

“You know, I don’t get you, Louis. You should feel lucky any guy would wanna touch you in this school. Not like it’s some secret you like cock, everyone knows, the way you act and all. Thought you’d be a bit more appreciative, if I’m honest.”

Louis stops moving suddenly, freezing. He doesn’t blink for so long he can swear it’s Ethan looking down at him and he squeezes his eye shut, lifting his leg curtly to knee him in the crotch.

Ben reflexively moves to cup his aching crotch and rolls onto his side as Louis stands up to wipe himself clean. “You think I’m gay because of the way I act, yeah? You’ve categorized me as something you don’t know anything about because you’re insecure about your own sexuality and you think that’s how things should be. You’re not a fag because you play football and lift with your mates and get matching crew cuts because you’re tough, right? Fuck you,” he snarls, still standing over him. “Honestly, from the bottom of my big, gay heart, Ben: I could parade around this school acting gayer than Richard Simmons, shouting to the heavens about how much I love cock, and it would never, ever incline me to be ‘appreciative’ of your weird, creepy come ons. I don’t like you, so stay away from me.”

He walks away then, pushing his shoulders back proudly and trying to look like he wasn’t choking back tears.

When Niall and Liam catch up with him halfway up the main stairs Louis’ heart is still racing, looking back at his two best friends eying him worriedly.

“Louis,” Liam calls carefully, like he was some nervous, shaking woodland creature. “Are you okay?”

Louis nods and continues his way up the stairs. “Don’t tell Harry about this, yeah? Not gonna tell him myself, so.”

Niall and Liam exchange looks before shrugging. “Yeah, sure, Lou.”

“Thanks.” Louis replies. He feels dirty, and weird, and fidgety. He can’t stop playing with his fingers.

“So,” Niall says, the silence uncomfortable. “Who wantsta watch some Disney films? I know Liam has about 50.”

Louis smiles warmly at his friends. No questions, no pitying looks.

He loves them dearly, he thinks.

*

Harry and Zayn get back to find the other 3 boys shoved into Liam’s bed. The lights are off and they’re watching Hercules and Louis is squished in the middle, a big bag of Chex Mix occupying his lap.

Louis smiles guiltily when Harry raises his hand, waving his cellphone in the air. He texted Louis several times and Louis hadn’t responded once.

“Sorry,” he mutters lamely. “Must’ve…forgotten to turn my phone off silent.”

“Right.”

Louis pouts. “Serious!” he insists. Harry rolls his eyes and unzips his coat, tossing it on Liam’s desk chair. “Wanna cuddle?” Louis asks, patting the space in front of him.

Harry nods, toeing off his Converse and crawling onto Liam’s bed, resting on Louis’ comfortable lap. Zayn follows him, falling into the space between Niall and the wall, resting his head on his bony shoulder.

“How was Leeds?” Louis asks. His arms snake around Harry’s waist and reels him closer in.

“Good,” Harry answers. “We got coffee and then went to that used bookstore we stopped at once, when you wanted that Sylvia Plath book.”

Louis blushes, purposely avoiding Zayn’s confused gaze. “Lovely. What’d you buy?”

“A book of Oscar Wilde’s letters,” he answers. “Zayn got about five different ones, three of which were solely Shakespearean plays.” He laughs.

There’s a collective sigh at that and Zayn makes an offended noise. “What! I’d never seen those editions before! I’d have been a fool not to take advantage of the sale.”

“So typical,” says Harry, shaking his head.

“Coming from the gay fifteen year old reading Oscar Wilde! God, leave me alone.”

Harry raises his nose to Zayn, turning into Louis’ chest. “I happen to like his writing, thanks. Not like I bought a 500 page books about 18th century literature or anything.”

Louis sniggers and rubs his thumb across Harry’s wrist, over his pulse and the L charm that rests there.

Zayn scoffs indignantly, crossing his arms. “It was £8!”

“Your face is £8.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

*

Harry’s birthday is in three days and he’s drowning in school work; essays and textbooks up to his ears, slowly suffocating him.

He contemplates (more like daydreams) as he finishes his second essay, dropping out of college and joining the circus. He has four nipples, he’s sure they could fit him in there somewhere. (maybe Louis would like to join him. He’s awfully flexible, he thinks.)

Why is English even a necessary course? Why does he need to take a class on public speaking? No, wait, better question: why does he need to write essays for a class on public speaking?

Harry has just started his third assignment of the night when his phone vibrates in his back pocket, reading incoming call from Mum across the screen. He purses his lips.

“Hello?” Harry answers.

“Darling! Hi!” His mothers voice rings delightedly into his ear.

“What’s up?”

“Well, I wanted to call to check up with you! My boy is turning 16 in three days!” She exclaims. “But, I was actually calling about when you’re coming home. Your Nana is practically doing cartwheels she’s so excited. I was thinking we could take a day trip to see her, but it might turn into an overnighter. She just misses you so much. Oh, also, I’ve got ski passes, for the four of us, if you wanted -”

Mum,” Harry interrupts her. “We — I told you, I’m bringing a friend with me. I don’t want to drag him around!” He squeaks, the thought of Louis meeting his decrepit old grandmother making him cringe.

Silence. “A friend?” She asks.

“Yes, I told you, I was bringing somebody with me. That’s why I asked for two train tickets instead of one?” He clearly remembers their conversation in his mind, the sigh of relief when he hung up with her. She hadn’t seemed suspicious at all.

“I don’t recall…”

“Louis, mum.”

“Did you say Liam?”

“No, mum, Louis. Ring any bells?”

Anne is silent. “Hm, not quite. Not ringing any bells. Have I met him? What’s he look like?”

“I’ve only met him this year. He’s in that picture with me, the one I sent you — with the Christmas hats and reindeer antlers. Blue eyes, freckles, caramel-y hair? Very, weirdly tan in the middle of December?”

Anne makes a noise of recognition and laughs. “Oh, yes. I remember him now, I’ve got that picture you sent me framed, the one of all you sledding. He’s the smallest, in the red?”

“Yes, anyways. I don’t — he’s kind of feeling overwhelmed enough as it is and I don’t want him meeting Nana. I mean, she has her moments, but she’s otherwise very rude and very overbearing and Louis’ enough of that himself.”

He can practically hear his mother frown. “Well, she’ll be crushed.”

“Just send another curly headed kid up there, she won’t know the difference.”

“Oi, don’t be cruel,” Anne scolds him. “Actually, Gemma’s got a friend with her at the moment, too. One of her more, erm. Alternative friends. Same name, actually.”

Harry could laugh. Alternative. “What do you mean?”

“Her name’s Lou. I think it’s short for Louise but she just says, ‘me name’s Lou, yeah?’,” his mother imitates in a very questionable accent. It sounds more Irish than anything. “Very sweet girl, but I’ve no clue where she’s from. Speaks like one of those rap girls.”

Harry actually does laugh at that, slapping a hand over his mouth and shoving his face between his legs. “Mum!

“What? She does!” His mother laughs. “I can hardly understand a thing she says to me. Maybe I’m just getting old, though.”

“Well, Louis’ from Doncaster. I know you love Yorkshire accents.”

“I do love a nice Yorkshire accent,” his mother says.

“And he loves X Factor. So maybe you two can watch together.”

“We’ve so much in common!” Anne chuckles. “Does he like to ski? He can take Gemma’s place, you know how she hates it there.”

“Yeah, loves to. He’ll be buzzing.”

“Excellent!” She chirps. An obnoxious beeping sounds from behind her voice ands she groans, sounding distant. “Oh, I’ve got food in the oven. I’ll call you soon, doll.” She tells him, blowing him a loud kiss.

“Love you,” Harry says, leaning against his bed. He hangs up and grabs a pillow, covering his face with it. He wishes he’d told her more of Louis earlier. He can practically see her face now, utterly lost and confused as he tries to explain to her what exactly Louis is to him.

He’s not sure if he should laugh or cry.

*

Louis is an amazing boyfriend, he decides, sitting in their school’s auditorium as the chamber chorus sings a thrilling rendition of Reflection from Mulan.

Harry stands to the far right, looking miserable as a tall, ginger haired girl belts the chorus into his ear, seemingly lost in the song as if she herself was Mulan. Louis stifles a laugh into his hand as he makes eye contact with Harry, who grins despite himself.

Stop,” he mouths, grin still pulling at his lips.

Louis closes his eyes, dramatically lip syncing along with her. “Whoooo is that girl I see? Staring straight, back at me…

He opens his eyes to find Harry laughing behind his hand, turning away from the poor girl next to him, who looks mildly offended by his laughter. Louis giggles softly, waving back at his chorus teacher when she turns around to send him an accusatory glare.

“Mr. Thompson, our chorus gets the opportunity to rehearse only twice a week now. If you are incapable of being silent then I’m going to need you to leave,” Miss Holly tells him, hand on her hip. Behind her, Harry imitates her movements, cocking his hip and wagging a finger.

“I’ve spent the last five months sitting on these uncomfortable metal seats for hours at a time and you can’t even remember my name? Miss Holly, you cannot even fathom the level of offense I feel right now.”

The woman shakes her head. “I’m serious, I will have you out of here in a second! My poor lead vocal can barely concentrate with your silly antics, think of how she must feel.”

“Well, now you’ve put me on the spot,” he says. “Shall I get up and apologize to her?”

“Don’t be foolish,” she growls. “Just - stay in your seat. And stop making faces at my students.”

Louis pulls a face, propping his feet on the back of the seat in front of him. He pulls out his mobile and distractedly opens his inbox, realizing with near shock he has an unopened message.

It’s from Stan.

Are you fucking kidding me mate? I just heard you weren’t coming home for break at all from your MUM.

Do you not remember me calling you at 1 in the morning telling u about this?? I’m spending it at Harry’s !

I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE SPENDING THE WHOLE TIME THERE

Louis gulps, looks toward the stage to find Harry already watching him. He smiles at him reassuringly, giving him a thumbs up.

It’s important, he needs me there

It’s gonna take 2 weeks for him to tell his parents he likes boys? how slow does he talk?

-.- it’s not like he’s gonna walk in like ‘Hey fam whats up, IM GAY!’

He SHOULD do it like that, thatd be great

His mum would shit her pants, she barely even knows I exist ..

Why don’t you just spend a week there and then bring him to yours for the other week? I wanna meet this fucker your obsessed with.

Louis twists his lips unsurely. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea; he’s not sure how Harry would feel about it, though.

I’ll talk to him bout it, alright ? I do wanna see u guys, believe me

Well act like it! Come home. Hannah and I are in the schools play this year, we want u to come.

Oh n Lotties got a boyfriend. You should meet the little shit, they’re obsessed with each other.

Louis’ eyes grow wide at that. His sister has a boyfriend? She’s not yet fourteen and she’s dating?

What the fuck ?! My mum never told me that !

Jay loves him, thinks he’s adorable. His name is Martin.

My sister is dating a person called Martin ? He laughs, not quite sure what to imagine him looking like. His sister would only settle for someone equally as obsessed with her as she is.

Hah, yes! I’m telling you, come hooooooooooooome. We all miss your dumb terdy self.

Wow , your argument is really convincing

:) come home Lou

Ill talk to my love.

Your gross!

Luv ya mate . xxxxxxxx

Love ya

*

An hour and thirty minutes later Harry hops off stage, grabbing his bookbag and finding Louis in the audience.

“I don’t understand why you come to these things,” he says honestly. “Even I’m bored.”

Louis shrugs. “I dunno, it’s sort of relaxing. Plus you look hot up there.”

Harry grins and falls into his lap, brushing the fringe out his eyes. “Everyone here calls you my boyfriend,” he says, quietly.

“What super sleuths they are, yeah?”

Harry chuckles, resting his head on his shoulder. “I guess we are sort of obvious. No one asks, though. They just say to me, ‘Harry, your boyfriend’s here’.” He smiles. “I kinda like it.”

“You do?” Louis asks.

“I like that the idea isn’t completely foreign to them. Like, it doesn’t…change how they see me,” he says slowly, playing with Louis’ fingers. “But, then again, they could just be acting like sarcastic twats. I dunno. Whichever.”

Louis nods, and then gasps suddenly. “Oh, look!” He squeals. “I spot Perrie and Zayn talking, look!”

Harry turns around to find Perrie leaning against the stage, smiling shyly as Zayn talks to her. He looks awkward, like he’s trying not to seem too comfortable around her. Harry rolls his eyes.

“He’ll never get laid, honestly.”

Louis guffaws, noticing Liam out of the corner of his eye. He’s speaking to a girl with tan skin and shiny, magenta hair. “Who —?” Louis asks. They look like they’ve been talking for a while, not like strangers at all.

She’s got a cute button nose and delicate fingers that wrap around his arm, pulling him in for a hug. “Who’s that? Hazza, Hazza — whozzat?”

Harry’s eyes follows the direction he’s pointing in. “Oh. Jade.”

“Jade?” Louis repeats.

“Yes, Jade. She’s friends with Perrie, but her and Liam have been getting on. I think they’re seeing each other,” he tells him indifferently.

Louis’ eyes turn into saucers. “Why has no one told me this?” He demands.

“Because he’s not told anyone. I just see them sometimes, ‘cause we take some of the same classes and he walks her to class a lot.”

“Aw,” Louis says. “How sweet.”

Harry gives him an expression like yeah, I guess. “Must be nice to walk to class and hold hands. They’re not even dating but he could kiss her right now, and no one would think a fucking thing about it. They’d just be like, oh, I didn’t know they were together.” He says bitterly.

“Y’know, if you kissed me right now, the world wouldn’t explode.”

“But the school would,” Harry replies shortly. “I’m hungry. Do you want food?”

Louis blinks, face softening. “Yeah, sure.”

Harry reaches in between them and squeezes his hand. “I’m not ashamed of us, Lou,” he says sincerely. “I’m just. Every day I hear people calling each other faggots and queers, like it’s something bad, being gay. Like that’s the best insult they have.” His voice cracks as he continues. “It breaks my heart seeing people take what they have for granted. If I could kiss you right now and not have to hear other people’s whispers and nasty judgements, I would.”

“Hey, babe,” Louis says softly. “I understand. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

Harry nods, eyes wet. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he smiles. “Now lets get you something to eat.”

*

The night before Harry’s birthday is spent in Zayn’s bedroom, watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians and eating sweets. The five of them share his bed, sharing a bottle of wine and singing drunkenly when they’ve had too much.

Niall and Louis sing a duet of I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys and Harry and Zayn and Liam challenge them with a ballad by Adele. People in the rooms next to them yell for them to shut up and Niall shouts back, telling them, “It’s my fuckin’ friends birthday tomorrow! I’ll come over there and beat the shit out of you!” before falling onto his back, dissolving into laughter, tears streaming down his pink cheeks.

Harry can’t stop laughing ever since they opened the second bottle and Louis can’t keep the smile off his face, telling him every so often how he was the best boyfriend ever, and how his birthday present would un-freaking-forgettable.

At ten, Harry asks Zayn to play music for them and he does, turning his iPod dock’s volume on max and they all get up, dancing to a Kanye song they all vaguely know the words to. At some point, after midnight and a lot of stupid dancing and decisions, they fall asleep, dogpiled on Zayn’s bed.

They’ll regret it when they wake up, but Harry only thinks of how much he loves his friends and the feeling of being loved by them. He hugs whoever is under his chest (he thinks it’s Liam) and drifts off into sleep with a smile on his face.

They all do.

*

hi so i woke up in a cold sweat last night unsure if richard simmons was even gay. i’m not sure. but i think he is.

this chapter was weird i know, i’m not sure how i feel about it but i had to get it out of the way. :/ it was like over 8000 words and idk how it happened. i tried to get some drama in there, cause ben’s an issue that keeps popping up and now louis’ pissed him off. also, harry got hit on ~by a dude~. ;)

LEAVE ME SOME FEEDBACK tell me if it was poop or not/your favorite part/whatever.

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