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Chapter Text

The taxi pulled into the carpark of the sandstone building as they all peered out the window, eager for a glimpse of what would be their new home for the next month. In spite of the dismal January weather, the hotel looked cosy and inviting with warm, golden lighting and beautiful white sash windows. Louis smiled to himself as he realised that he only knew what sash windows were thanks to Harry’s lengthy explanation the week before when he had described, in impressively specific detail, his dream house. Louis nudged Harry, signalling for him to take out his earphones. He glanced down at the screen of Harry’s iPod and noticed, rather appropriately, he was listening to Home again; Louis fondly noted that he’d been on a real indie folk kick of late. Harry paused the song, removed one of his earphones and turned his focus to Louis.

“Like the windows, Haz?” Louis asked him in an undertone, while Zayn and Niall wondered aloud about the likelihood of the hotel bar serving seventeen-year-olds. Harry glanced up at the windows and smiled.

“You remembered,” he exclaimed, impressed.

“Of course,” Louis chuckled. “Have to know what my future house is gonna look like!” He gave Harry a wink causing him to glow at the domesticity of it all. Harry’s earnest revelation the night before that he fully expected them to move in together soon was still replaying in Louis’ mind, and he was excited to get one step closer by at least living in the same building over the coming weeks. He’d so missed being with Harry during the days they’d been apart over Christmas; he was excited to be able to see him every day again.

“D’you reckon the gym is 24 hours?” Liam pondered aloud and the others rolled their eyes as how predictable their bandmate was.

With the help of the driver, they retrieved their luggage from the boot and made their way to reception, large cases in tow. As they approached the desk, they heard an excited shriek and Louis found himself enveloped in a nest of huge brown hair and a disproportionately small frame – Cher.

“Alright, love,” he chuckled, wrapping her tightly in his arms. “How’re you?”

“So happy you’re here!” Cher gushed. “Why are you so late?” Louis looked around at the others, unsure whether he should mention their meeting with Simon. They all looked equally uncertain, so he decided to err on the side of caution.

“We’re busy lads, babe,” he teased, a sly glint in his eye. “Places to go, people to see.” She rolled her eyes at him before launching into a rundown of who had already arrived and their collective plan to go to Nando’s that evening.

“Me and Katie are sharing a room,” she told them. “They had us in separate ones, but we both prefer the company. You gonna get one with Bex, Z?” She smirked at Zayn, trying to provoke a reaction, but Zayn remained convincingly unruffled.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he retorted calmly. “Why? Does she need a roommate?”

“Heard you’d been texting,” Cher pressed, smirk still in place.  “Just thought you both might want an in-person catch up since you’re technically no longer on the show therefore technically allowed to… develop your connection.”

“Leave it out, Cher,” Louis muttered, nudging her. “You’re embarrassing the lad! If he’s interested, he’ll go for it himself.”

“Fine!” Cher huffed, apparently finding their lack of willingness to embarrass one another boring. “I’m gonna head up. We’re 316 by the way – come over whenever! Aiden’s on our floor too, actually.”

“Oh, swell,” Harry muttered in an undertone that only Louis seemed to catch. Louis shot him a grin before shifting his attention back to Cher.

“Brilliant, we’ll give you a shout later then,” Louis smiled. “We’ll just get checked in and stuff first.” They waved their goodbyes, and the lads made their way to the desk.

“Hi, we’re just checking in,” Liam said to the smiling receptionist.

“Of course - names?” she asked, and Liam told her.

“Wonderful,” she responded, checking the screen before her. “So, some of the others have elected to stay in twin rooms, but you’re welcome to opt for singles, if you prefer. Is there a preference?”

“I’ll have a single,” Liam said quickly, his aversion to room-sharing only strengthened by their time in the XFactor house.

“Z, fancy doubling up?” Niall asked. “I like the company too, if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, fine with me,” Zayn agreed.

“Same for us,” Harry piped up. The woman smiled, tapping the keyboard dexterously. She read through and her smile faded.

“I’m afraid we only have one twin room left,” she said apologetically. “The others are all doubles. We can put you in separate rooms, if you prefer?” Louis gave Harry a sly wink and then shifted his focus back to the receptionist.

“That’s fine,” he said, hamming up the martyr façade. “I don’t want you down a room for no good reason. Two of us can take the twin and the other two will share the double. It’s not a problem.”

“Are you certain, sir?” the receptionist continued, apparently used to dealing with much less affable clients than Louis. “It’s no trouble.”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I’ve slept in way worse, trust me, love!” She smiled gratefully at Louis’ congeniality and tapped on the keyboard again.

“Let me just see if…” she trailed off, clicking the mouse as she searched. “Yes, one of our Georgian Deluxe rooms is available. It’s super king size bed with a free-standing roll-top bath and a walk-in shower. I hope that makes up for the inconvenience?” Louis and Harry glanced at each other, unable to believe their luck.

“Absolutely, Sarah,” Louis exclaimed, sneaking a peek at her badge and smiling. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Not at all, sir,” Sarah replied, confirming the details and distributing their key cards. “We hope you enjoy your stay at the Richmond Hill Hotel.” They all thanked her and made their way to the lift with their cases.

“You are two of the jammiest fuckers,” Niall hissed at Louis and Harry. “How the fuck did you manage that? I’d consider giving Z one if I thought it’d get us a fancy room!”

“Sounds like Z is doing alright on that front without you,” Louis teased as they reached the lobby lift. “What’s this about you texting Bex?” Zayn smiled sheepishly and shook his head.

“Nothing yet,” he replied, pushing the call button. “We’ve just been chatting a bit. I don’t want to make a big thing of it.”

“That’s great, Zayn,” Harry enthused. “Bex is so lovely.” Zayn nodded in agreement.

“I think so, too,” he said. “But we’re just friends for the minute, so please keep the comments to a minimum.” The lift arrived and they made their way inside, each pressing the button for their requisite floor.

“Like you’ve done for me and Haz you mean?” Louis asked him in a falsely stern tone. Zayn suddenly looked like he was regretting the many digs he’d made at their expense.

“Don’t worry, Z,” Harry chimed in. “We won’t say anything.”

“Speak for yourself, Haz,” chortled Niall. “I can’t wait to embarrass the fuck outta him!”

Louis unlocked the door their room and they both hauled their luggage inside, taking in their surroundings.

“This is gorgeous, Lou,” Harry breathed. “Look how big the bed is! I can definitely live here very happily until the tour!” He hurried into the bathroom to inspect it. “Oh my god, the bath! I can’t wait to have a bath in here; I might have one tonight actually.” Louis dropped his bags and wandered in after Harry.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, folding his arms around Harry’s waist from behind and stretching up to rest his chin on his shoulder. “Fancy any company?”

“Always,” Harry giggled as he turned around to wrap his arms around Louis’ neck and kiss him softly. “This is gonna be so nice, Lou. It’ll almost be like living together – I can’t wait.”

“Me neither, Haz,” Louis smiled, his arms still encircling Harry’s waist. “So much more privacy than the XFactor house or our parents’ houses.”

“Sounds like you have some plans, Mr Tomlinson,” Harry giggled.

“Oh, you have no idea, Styles,” Louis grinned wolfishly.

Later, as they lay curled up in the middle of the super king-sized bed that dwarfed them, Louis scrolled through his Twitter feed. He smiled at the many mentions of Larry Stylinson he came across, including video compilations of small interactions between them from video diaries that fans had clearly spent hours splicing together seamlessly and setting to a perfectly timed backing track. Not for the first time, Louis felt overwhelmingly thankful for those fans and the unyielding support they showed them, in spite of Simon’s determination to hide their love away. They gave Louis hope that the recording contract wouldn’t mean the beginning of the end for his and Harry’s happiness, and that this new part of their journey was still one they could take together. Just then, a familiar name and icon caught Louis’ attention, so he stopped scrolling. He smiled and glanced across at Harry who was holding his phone to his chest and gazing at him expectantly, dimples popping. He looked back to his screen and felt himself fall in love just a little bit more.

@Harry_styles: We laugh until we think we’ll die, Barefoot on a summer night.. Nothin’ new is sweeter than with you :D night .x

***

Over the following days, Louis almost felt like he was back on the show again. Having everyone together immediately brought with it the fun atmosphere of the XFactor house, without the pressure of weekly eliminations. He found himself slipping easily back into their usual habits of movie nights and hanging out with the girls, but he purposely limited his time with Aiden to group settings. Although they had parted ways on good terms, it was clear from his comment when they arrived that jealousy regarding Aiden was an issue for Harry and he didn’t want to do anything that would purposely exacerbate it. Apart from that, he still found himself wondering how much Aiden actually knew about Louis’ sexuality; he still hadn’t managed to completely unravel exactly what Aiden had meant by his comment all those weeks ago. He thought it might be best to give Aiden a wide berth during their stay at the hotel at least. Maybe by the time they set off on tour, Harry would be feeling slightly less vitriolic towards him.

Even though the rehearsals took up less time than they had on the show, due to the repeated setlist on tour, the lads found themselves extremely busy with their own band commitments. They quickly discovered that Cher and Rebecca had also been signed to Syco, so while most of the others relaxed and spent time in the hotel bar and restaurant, they all had to spend a lot of their free time recording and giving interviews. The lads had started doing some proper recording in studios now and the pressure was beginning to mount as decisions were being made about what they should or shouldn’t put on an album, what they should release as their first single and, ultimately, what sort of band they were going to be. Louis was well aware that, when push came to shove, these decisions would undoubtedly be made by Simon, but he wanted to make sure they had done their best to be true to themselves and present the One Direction that their fans had grown to love – including those fans who always looked a little closer and paid extra attention. Louis hadn’t heard anything from Simon regarding his relationship since the phone conversation in which Louis had tried to convince him that there was a supportive fanbase for them. In spite of the tweets he and Harry had sent under their Ted and Dusty pseudonyms and the frankly palpable sexual tension between them onstage at their few post-XFactor gigs, Louis hadn’t had any complaints from Simon or anyone from Modest!. In fact, both he and Harry were beginning to feel cautiously optimistic that perhaps Simon had gone in tough on them hiding their relationship to scare them into compliance and that, in practice, he wouldn’t be nearly so demanding. It was with this state of mind that they went into their first photoshoot with Sugarscape midway through January.

“Okay, Harry” Laura started. “I know you get asked these types of questions all the time and you’re fed up answering them, but we need to go with what we’re told to do. So, your first snog, your first celebrity crush and your first actual crush, please. Be as honest as you can!”

Harry glanced over at Louis, and he knew that he was trying to work out just how honestly he could answer the questions. First snog? Fine. First celebrity crush? They had their Frankie/Susan plan. First actual crush? Trickier. Louis could only smile encouragingly as Harry began to speak.

“Erm, my first snog was a girl from school,” he started, glancing at Louis again. “My first celebrity crush was Frankie Sanford when she was in S Club Juniors. And my first real crush was – “he paused, closing his eyes and taking a deeper breath than strictly necessary given that he was sitting still. “Louis Tomlinson.” Louis’ jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe that Harry actually said it, and on camera!

“Who?” Laura questioned, grinning.

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry repeated, looking directly at her now, emboldened by her positive reaction.

“Louis Tomlinson?” she confirmed. “How does he feel about you?” Harry nodded.

“Mutual,” he said. “We’ve discussed it.” Louis felt his heart melt at how pure and earnest Harry’s response had been.

“Yeah?” Laura asked teasingly. “That’s beautiful, Harry. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry mumbled, unable to hold back his smile. It was so very sweet, but Louis couldn’t help but feel that it was unlikely that the footage would ever see the light of day.

Chapter Text

After little over a week of living together at the hotel, Louis felt more certain than ever that moving in with Harry would be the best decision of his life. He woke up every morning with a smile on his face, knowing that he would immediately feel Harry’s skin next to his own and was mere seconds away from the kiss that still made his heartbeat faster and his stomach fill with butterflies. So Louis couldn’t help but feel disappointed when Harry told him that he would be going up to Sheffield to visit Gemma at uni for a couple of days. He mentally scolded himself for being so needy and instead focused on how excited Harry would be to see his sister. He knew Harry had missed Gemma terribly during his time on the show, so it was nice that he now had a little bit more freedom to go spend some time with her. As he packed his bag for his trip, Louis helped by fetching his toiletries from the bathroom.

“Haz, can I keep this bubble chalk stuff for the bath?” he questioned, and Harry looked up from his nearly-packed bag to see what he was talking about.

“That’s a bath bomb, Lou,” he smiled. “And yes, Gem only has a shower, so I won’t be needing it. Planning on having a solo bath while I’m gone?”

“Might do,” Louis mused, giving Harry the remainder of his toiletries and keeping hold of his bath bomb. “I don’t think I’ve had one without you in all the time we’ve been here. Maybe I’ll just sit in there sadly pining for you like it’s a music video.”

“I don’t think they tend to pine in brightly coloured bubble baths, babe,” Harry chuckled, and Louis shrugged.

“Hannah asked if she could give me ring tonight, by the way,” he told Harry, suddenly remembering the text she’d sent him. “Modest! must’ve been in touch.”

“Seems likely,” Harry agreed as he zipped up his now full toiletries bag and tossed it in with his clothes. “I wonder what they’ve made her agree to.”

“No idea,” Louis shrugged. “I’ll let you know what she says. So, you’re back Saturday, yeah?”

“Yep, probably quite late though,” Harry warned him, zipping up his bag and slipping on his shoes. “I’ll try not to wake you.”

“It’ll be so weird sleeping without you,” Louis said sadly. “I’m used to it now.”

“I know, honey,” Harry soothed, opening his arms for Louis to shuffle into. “I’ll miss it, too. I’ll FaceTime you tonight and tomorrow night though, okay?” He cuddled Louis to his chest and pressed kisses into his hair lovingly. Louis nodded, feeling truly pathetic that he was genuinely upset at spending two nights away from Harry. He’d been independent once; he was sure of it.

“C’mon,” Louis said finally. “I’ll walk you down.” They made their way towards the door, but as Louis began to open it, Harry’s hand shot out over his shoulder, slamming it shut again. Before Louis could even ask what he was doing, Harry had spun him around and pushed him roughly against it, knocking the air from his lungs. Harry’s right hand remained flat against the door where he had slammed it, just above Louis’ left shoulder, caging him in and allowing Harry to steadily lean in close, while his left hand snaked up Louis’ neck and into his hair, grasping tightly. Louis was completely surrounded and drowning in Harry. He slid his hands under Harry’s t-shirt, longing to touch the soft, hot skin along the dip of his waist. Harry pulled him closer, bringing his lips to Louis’ in a kiss that was at once urgent and adoring, his pillowy lips silken against Louis’ own. He traced his tongue teasingly along Louis’ bottom lip, begging for access. Louis complied eagerly and Harry swept his tongue into his mouth, caressing it against Louis’ tenderly. A breathy whine escaped Louis’ throat as Harry tugged at his hair, heavy desire thrumming through his body in response. He dug his fingertips into Harry’s taut flesh, keen to leave his mark on him. He wanted Harry to feel those aching little bruises as he lay in bed later that night; he wanted the ache to remind Harry of this, of him, of how good they were. Much, much too soon, Harry broke away, huffing out a shaky breath as he did.

“I’m gonna miss you, baby,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to Louis’, his eyes closed.

“Me, too,” Louis mumbled, soaking up their last few moments together.

Feeling supremely sorry for himself, Louis resolved to spend the evening with the girls to try to take his mind off missing Harry. He made his way down to 316 and rapped rhythmically on the door. A few seconds later, Katie’s smiling face appeared as the door cracked open.

“Louis!” she exclaimed, obviously pleased to see him. “Come in!” Louis made his way into the room to find Cher and Aiden sprawled across the two single beds at either side of the bedroom, each clutching a wine glass. He gave them both a smile and a wave as Katie swept back in, throwing herself down beside Cher, her own glass in hand.

“Not interrupting the party, am I?” Louis grinned, indicating the empty wine bottle on the dressing table.

“Joining,” Aiden corrected. “You’re joining the party. There’s another bottle on the way up. I’m presuming you’re not opposed to wine when it’s free.”

“Free is actually my favourite kind of wine,” Louis quipped, and the others chuckled as another knock sounded at the door. Aiden jumped up to answer it and Louis took his spot on the bed, accepting the glass that Cher retrieved from the side table for him. “So, what are you lot up to for the evening?”

“Just hanging out really,” Katie shrugged. “We invited Bex, but she’s taken Zayn for his first legal drink in the hotel bar.” Louis’ jaw dropped.

“That sneaky little fucker!” he exclaimed. “He never even mentioned it. Oh, he’s never living this down!”

“You told me off for teasing him when we first arrived,” Cher protested. “Suddenly it’s allowed when you want to do it!”

“But he’s hiding it from me,” Louis countered. “It’s different when it’s being hidden from – “

He stopped, both girls looking at him pointedly. Although they’d never explicitly had the conversation, he knew that they both knew about him and Harry. Once the rest of the band had found out and they had started spending their nights together in a separate room from the lads, there wasn’t really any other possible explanation. Yet neither Cher nor Katie had ever made a remotely big deal about it or even asked them outright if something was going on. Seemingly they took a similar approach to Niall in that they didn’t feel it was any of their business. Louis appreciated their discretion more than he could even say, but now that they were out of the house and had moved onto this new adventure, he felt that the big, gay elephant in the room needed to be addressed.

“I guess I’m not really one to comment on hiding a relationship, am I?” Cher and Katie looked at one another grinning triumphantly and then back to Louis.

“So, you two are still going strong?” Cher asked quietly, conscious that Aiden was only just out of earshot, talking to the hotel employee at the door.

“Stronger than ever,” Louis whispered, unable to hide his smile. Both girls made stifled ‘aw’ noises, their hands over their mouths. “Just keep it to yourselves for now, okay?” They nodded vigorously as the door shut with a thud and Aiden reappeared.

“As requested,” he declared, presenting the wine to them like a sommelier. He divided the bottle between the four glasses and sat down beside Louis. “So, I think we should have a toast to the two officially signed artists in the room.” He smiled widely at Cher and Louis, raising his glass, mirrored by Katie. “Congrats you two!”

“It’s amazing that you both got signed,” Katie thrilled. “How has it been so far? Is Simon still an asshole after he signs you?”

“Yes!” Cher laughed and Louis was intrigued. “I’m really happy to have a record deal, but they keep trying to get me to do stuff that just isn’t me.”

“What d’you mean?” Louis asked, curious as to how their experiences were measuring up.

“Like they keep trying to push this ‘sexy maneater’ image on me and it’s just like I’m seventeen, it’s weird,” she cringed but carried on. “And they want me to have a fake relationship with someone I don’t even know. They’ve suggested, like, footballers and rappers and stuff, and have given me these creepy little profiles on them like I’m choosing them from a catalogue. It’s just mental. Like, I’m not going to do any of that shit.” Louis shuffled uncomfortably. So it wasn’t just him.

“Good for you, girl,” Katie exclaimed, looking proud. “How have they responded to that?”

“Well, I just keep fobbing them off for now,” Cher explained. “But sooner or later, they’re going to force me to make a call. Simon’s pretty much said that I need to do it, or I can find someone else to sign me.”

“Aren’t you worried he means it, though?” Louis asked her, confusion mingled with admiration for her. Cher shrugged.

“Look, I started with nothing, I might end with nothing,” she said determinedly. “But at least I will have done it my way.”

“That’s really brave, babe,” Aiden smiled, as he raised his glass. “To Cher’s bravery!” Louis raised his glass and forced a smile. It was a lot easier to be brave when it was only your own future you were gambling instead of four others.

A little after nine, and three glasses of wine later, Louis announced that he was off. He gave the girls a quick cuddle and went to shake Aiden’s hand.

“I’ll come with you, mate,” Aiden said. “Need to get back anyway.” Louis nodded and the two of them headed out the door.

“That was a laugh,” Louis said as they walked side by side down the corridor. “I’m glad I came over.”

“Yeah, never a dull moment with those two,” Aiden agreed. “So, how’s Harry?” Louis slowed his step and looked at Aiden.

“He’s fine,” he replied cautiously. “Why?”

“Louis,” Aiden said in a tired voice, imploring him to drop the façade.

“You know then?” Louis sighed.

“Obviously,” Aiden chuckled, stopping completely as they reached his door. “Ever since I tried to kiss you that time, the boy has looked like he’s mentally tearing me limb from limb every time we make eye contact.”

“Yeah, we’re working on the jealousy thing,” Louis shrugged, unable to hide his smile. Homicidal tendencies weren’t usually something he found endearing, but he could make an exception for Harry.

“Well, you can tell him to chill,” Aiden laughed. “I’ve started seeing someone.”

“Aw that’s great, man,” Louis enthused. “I’m happy for you!”

“Thanks,” Aiden smiled. “So, everything good with you two then?”

“Yeah, Haz is incredible,” Louis replied simply. “Simon and management, not so much.”

“I noticed you seemed a bit uncomfortable when Cher was chatting about them,” he nodded. “I presume they’re trying to make you do something similar?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Louis shared. “At least it’s only with Hannah for the moment. She’s one of my best mates, so it’s a lot less awkward. Still makes things ten times more difficult than they need to be, though.”

“That’s really shit, mate,” Aiden admitted. “I’m sorry you both have to go through that.”

“Thanks, Aiden,” Louis said sincerely.

“So, does Harry’s jealousy extend to hugs?” he teased. “Am I restricted to a goodnight handshake?” Louis snorted and punched him on the arm but pulled him into a quick one-armed hug afterwards.

“Don’t push it, Grimshaw,” he warned, clapping him on the back and setting back off down the corridor towards the lift.

Louis’ phone started ringing just as he closed his bedroom door. He answered it, making his way over to the bed to get comfortable. He sensed it was going to be a serious conversation.

“Hey, Hannah,” he greeted. “How’re you?”

“Good, thanks,” she responded. “How’re the rehearsals, Mr Popstar?” Louis quickly filled her in on what had been going on since they reached the hotel, including all of the recording they’d been doing.

“But I’m assuming you’re not calling for a life update,” he concluded. “I know you and Stanley are still regularly taking advantage of Mum’s hospitality and she keeps you updated.”

“Excuse me, Tomlinson,” Hannah exclaimed in faux outrage. “Jay is like a second mother to me. I will not have you questioning our bond!” Louis laughed and acknowledged that Jay was, in fact, extremely fond of Hannah. “Anyway, you just so happen to be right, for once. I’ve signed the contract with Modest! and I just wanted to let you know the details so we’re on the same page.”

Hannah launched into a thorough explanation of her meeting with representatives from Modest! – apparently Magee and Griffiths didn’t bother themselves with anyone outside of ‘the talent’ – and the agreements they’d come to. Hannah had taken Louis’ advice and gone in with clear financial expectations, which they had agreed to without question.

“Sort of wish I’d asked for more now,” she mused. “Anyway, it’s a six-month contract for now and then we’ll reassess. Hey, it’s like our relationship!” Louis groaned. “I’m joking, Louis, chill out.”

“So, what have they told you to do?” he asked.

“All pretty straightforward stuff really,” she assured him. “Tweeting about you a bit, attending some promo stuff, tweeting about the band in general. To be honest, it sounds like they just need me to act as a bit of a link between the band and fans to advertise and promote. It doesn’t seem too difficult. I think James will prefer that as well.”

“Does he mind you doing it?” Louis asked, concerned.

“Not really,” Hannah responded. “He still doesn’t quite get why I want to do it, but I’ve just said you’re one of my best mates, so I’m helping you out, that’s it.”

“He sounds like a really understanding bloke,” Louis said admiringly. “Harry finds it difficult even when he knows exactly why we need to do it.”

“It’s different for him though, isn’t it?” Hannah reasoned. “He’s being forced to hide his relationship from everyone. That would make anyone behave irrationally.”

“Completely,” Louis agreed. “I don’t blame him at all. It’s just that I might not respond to you much on Twitter and stuff because I know it would upset him. I just want you to know that I’m not just ignoring you, okay?”

“Seriously, mate,” Hannah laughed. “These clowns are paying for my uni in exchange for sending a few tweets. I couldn’t care less if you tweet me back or not!”

“You sure you don’t mind doing it?”

“Look, the way they’re treating you and Harry is disgusting, but I know that’s the way the industry is,” Hannah explained. “But this way, I get to feel like I’m standing up for my mates and punishing your management for being dickheads by taking free money from them. Win-win!”

“Christ, Walker,” he exhaled. “I didn’t know you were such an evil genius!”

“I know, I know,” she said with mock superiority. “Seriously though, I want you and Harry to be happy; I’ll do what I can to help.” For the third time that night, Louis felt supremely lucky to have the people he counted as friends in his life. 

***

From deep in his subconscious, Louis heard the soft thud of a door being closed. He stirred slightly, rolling over and stretching his arms above his head while he groaned. A slit of light shone from the crack where the bedroom door sat ajar, spilling into the room and casting a soft glow over everything, yet Louis’ eyes stayed closed, clinging to the warm comfort of sleep. The door creaked open as more light flooded into the room and Louis’ eyelids fluttered open. Harry set down his holdall and searched inside for his toiletry bag as quietly as he could, reluctant to wake Louis from his slumber. He found what he needed and hurried towards the ensuite to get ready for bed.

“Haz?” Louis croaked, voice gravelly with sleep. Harry set down his belongings on the vanity and immediately went to his boy, climbing onto the bed and shuffling in behind Louis until they were pressed together.

“Yeah, baby,” he murmured, stroking his fingertips up and down Louis’ arm. “I’m here.”

“So glad you’re home,” Louis sighed sleepily, catching Harry’s fingers with his and lacing them together. “Missed you so much.”

“I missed you,” Harry responded, nuzzling into the warmth of Louis neck and inhaling deeply. “More than I can even tell you.” Louis hummed contentedly, pulling their conjoined hands upward so he could press kisses to Harry’s knuckles.

“Sleep?” Louis asked, hoping the single word managed to encompass his whole question.

“In a sec, honey,” Harry told him. “I just need to get changed and brush my teeth.” Louis nodded and Harry stole off to complete his bedtime routine. He was back before Louis knew it, climbing under the duvet and guiding Louis’ weary head into his nook, enveloping him in his arms. In seconds, Louis was snoring gently and soon after, Harry nodded off too, both happy beyond words to be back home again.

Chapter Text

Harry was still sound asleep when Louis woke again, hours later. He felt well-rested and content, having slept deeply for the first time in days. In fact, he hadn’t moved at all from his warm, safe, comfortable spot on Harry’s chest. Smiling serenely, he gently extracted himself from Harry’s embrace, careful not to wake him. He crept into the bathroom and turned on the shower, brushing his teeth simultaneously. He finished and went to spit out the toothpaste into the sink, shaking the excess water off his toothbrush and opening the cabinet to return the tube of toothpaste. As he did, another tube caught his eye – a purple one. He grabbed the tube of Astroglide as an idea suddenly struck him; he could give Harry a nice little morning surprise to show him how much he had missed him since he’d been away. Smiling to himself, he hopped into the warm shower, bringing the lube with him.

Harry was just waking when Louis came back into the bedroom. He lifted his head from the pillow, his curls an unruly mess and little pink crease marks on his face – he was beautiful. Louis dropped his towel and strode decisively towards the bed, abandoning any pretence by straddling Harry immediately and cradling his face in both of his hands, tilting it upwards. Harry looked vaguely alarmed for a moment before melting into the feel of Louis’ mouth on his own, bringing his hands up to grip Louis’ pert ass. He groaned appreciatively into Louis’ mouth as he fondled the firm flesh there. Louis knew that Harry adored his ass, talked about it reverently and couldn’t resist giving it a cheeky squeeze at every opportunity, including when they were on stage. Louis was soon grinding back into Harry’s hands, causing him to dig his fingers deeper into the flesh as his cock began to thicken. Louis smiled at how quickly Harry had gone from asleep to aroused and wondered how long it would take him to notice his surprise. As Louis caught Harry’s bottom lip between teeth, nipping and sucking gently on it, Harry’s fingers crept towards his waiting crevice, pausing when they encountered unexpected slickness.

“Babe, have you already lubed up?” Harry mumbled against Louis’ lips, confused.

“Mmhmm,” Louis breathed. “Opened myself up in the shower for you.” Harry groaned obscenely, the image overwhelming him. Louis couldn’t wait any longer, breaking away from Harry’s mouth, he reached into the drawer and pulled out the lube, pumping it into his hand and quickly spreading it over Harry’s waiting erection.

“No condom?” Harry asked and Louis shook his head.

“Want it to be messy. Want to feel you spill inside me. Want to feel you in me all day,” Louis gritted out, shivering in anticipation as Harry’s cock twitched excitedly in his hand. He brought the crown of Harry’s throbbing shaft to his slick, hot, waiting entrance as Harry’s fingertips spread him open. Beathing deeply, Louis sank slowly down, engulfing Harry in wet heat then stilling to revel in the satisfying feeling of fullness. After a few moments, Louis began to move experimentally, using his thighs to push himself up before sinking back down onto Harry. As he worked out a rhythm, he placed his hands on Harry’s chest to steady himself.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Harry panted, his hands on Louis’ hips, helping him move. “I love burying my cock in you, just want to pound into that tight little ass of yours.”

“Do it,” Louis whined needily. “Want you to.” Harry took him at his word, planting his feet firmly on the mattress, grabbing Louis’ hips more tightly and beginning to plunge his cock into Louis with frantic thrusts at a brutal pace. Louis cried out, arching his back and pushing back against his thrusts needily. But mere moments later, Harry began to slow his movement before pulling out, his hands guiding Louis off of him. Louis looked at him questioningly.

“Need you on your knees,” he growled. “Now.” Louis gladly obliged, turning over and offering himself up to Harry. Louis had never seen him like this: dominant, forceful, powerful. It was intoxicating and Louis was beyond turned on, desperate little whines escaping his throat without intent. Harry grasped his hips roughly, his bruising fingers digging into the flesh. Without preamble, he plunged back into Louis, his balls slapping obscenely against him. Harry’s hips snapped forward relentlessly, pounding into Louis over and over as he pushed back against the thrusts, chasing the feeling of complete fullness. He wanted to feel Harry deep, deep inside him - claiming him, owning him.

“Look at you,” Harry groaned, his voice rough. “Taking me so well. So perfect, baby. Like you were made for me.” Louis keened at the praise falling from Harry’s lips; he loved that he was pleasing him, loved that he was making him feel how no one else could. Louis was so aroused now that Harry’s cock was rubbing rhythmically against his engorged prostate on every thrust, building wave upon wave of pleasure.

“Haz, touch me,” he gasped out desperately and Harry obliged, spitting into his hand and reaching around to stroke Louis in time with his grinding hips. Within seconds, Louis could feel the familiar tightening in his abdomen as his heart began to pound erratically in his chest. His fingers twisted in the sheets as the pressure built and built before he reached the precipice, spilling onto the bedsheets below as he cried out Harry’s name.

“Yes, baby,” Harry grunted as Louis clenched tightly around him. “That’s it. Come for me. Just like that.” With one last deep thrust, he stilled, and Louis could feel the pulsing tremors of Harry’s orgasm inside him, matched by the tiny whimpers escaping his lips. Letting out a shaking breath, Harry bent down to clutch Louis close to him before slumping to the side with a shudder, totally spent. Louis collapsed beside him, vaguely aware of Harry’s cum dripping slowly from his empty hole as aftershocks shuddered through him.

“That was fucking phenomenal,” Harry rasped, one arm thrown over his damp, flushed face, the other reaching out to pull Louis to his chest. Louis shuffled closer, snuggling into Harry’s welcoming warmth and sighing contentedly. “You are incredible.” He pressed a lingering kiss to Louis’ forehead, looking down at him adoringly.

“You are,” Louis countered, gazing up at Harry, “I’ve never seen you so…” He struggled to find the right word to convey Harry’s change in demeanour and how hot he’d found it. “Forceful.” 

“Was it too much?” Harry asked, biting his lip and looking worried.

“No!” Louis said immediately. “No, it was really, really hot.” Relief washed over Harry’s face.

“Good,” he nodded, relieved. “I don’t know what happened. Just the idea of you getting yourself ready for me in the shower and then the time apart and – I don’t know. Just felt very possessive over you. Wanted to take control a bit.” He shrugged, trailing off.

“It was ridiculously sexy,” Louis purred, gazing up at him. “Seriously, it made me feel, like, weak for you. I don’t know. Felt so good to think you needed me so badly, or, like, I turned you on that much.” His cheeks flushed a little as he said it but, as always, Harry was earnest in his feelings for Louis.

“Lou, I need you all the time,” he said easily. “I think you’re the sexiest, hottest man in the world and I want to touch you constantly. I had to have a sneaky wank in the shower yesterday morning because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed, swatting him playfully. “In your sister’s shower? That’s gross!”

“What?” Harry shrugged, unabashed. “I couldn’t help it. I was thinking about when we were in Glasgow, and we sneaked off so I could blow you right after the performance. That was so fucking hot. Anyway, I couldn’t call you for phone sex because I was sleeping on their sofa, so I had limited options.” Louis laughed at how completely unperturbed Harry was by the admission.

The lay quietly for a few moments, basking the contented afterglow. Finally, Louis spoke.

“You’re dripping out of me,” he murmured, smiling into Harry’s chest.

“Is it gross?” Harry queried with a chuckle.

“No, I like it,” Louis replied. “Feels like you own me now. I’m yours.”

“Oh, I like that,” Harry mused. “Does this mean you’re going to come in me next time? So I can be yours too?”

“I think you’re already mine, Styles,” Louis grinned up at him.

“True,” Harry agreed. “Still want your cum in my ass though.”

“If you insist!” Louis laughed. “Okay, nap then breakfast?”

“Mmm, sounds perfect,” Harry smiled, closing his eyes and holding Louis close.

***

“What do you want?” Louis whispered to Harry, holding his hand over the receiver of the phone and gesturing towards the room service menu.

“Hmm, just scrambled eggs and toast please,” Harry replied, without even looking at the menu. They’d ordered room service rather than going down for breakfast enough times that he knew the menu by heart. While it was nice to have everyone together in the dining room in the mornings, they both preferred private breakfast in bed with just the two of them, so they’d struck a balance in the fortnight they’d been there.

“Yes, and scrambled eggs on toast, too, please,” Louis said into the receiver. “And a pot of tea. No, just normal tea. I don’t know, is that just normal tea? Like builder’s tea, sure. Okay, great, thanks. Bye.” He set down the phone and rolled his eyes. “Who is ordering Oolong tea for their breakfast? Just put in a normal teabag, love!” Harry chuckled at his disgust and finished up the tweet he was typing. He posted it and looked expectantly at Louis, waiting for him to check his own phone. “Are you tweeting about me again?”

“Maybe,” Harry smirked playfully. Louis opened his Twitter and navigated his way to Harry’s page but couldn’t see anything relevant. He looked up confusedly at Harry. “From the band page.” Louis nodded and renavigated.

@onedirection: I think thats the best lie-in I’ve had so far :) Harry .xx

“Very cute, Hazza,” Louis smiled. “Me too, obviously! Although, I think ‘lie-in’ implies you were sleeping rather than fucking me, but still. Right, so what’s the plan then? We’ve got the whole day just for us, so the world is your oyster, my love.”  Harry looked thoughtful for a few moments, considering his options.

“I just kinda want a chill day,” he decided. “Like shopping and cinema maybe? Oh, we could go to TGI Fridays for dinner!” Louis chuckled at Harry’s enthusiasm for the chain restaurant.

“Why do you love it there so much?” he asked and Harry shrugged, still grinning as he sat down next to Louis on the bed. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.” He took Harry’s hand and pressed it to his lips, kissing his knuckles sweetly and Harry lay his head on his shoulder. “Hey, loads of people have been asking for a Twitcam if you’re up for doing that later?”

“All of us?” Harry asked.

“Nope,” Louis responded, smiling mischievously. “Just Larry Stylinson.”

“Yeah, that’d be fun,” Harry smiled. “I noticed Hannah’s started tweeting about you and the band, by the way.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that when she called, did I tell you?” Louis asked and Harry shook his head, so Louis quickly relayed the details of his phone call with Hannah.  

“Wow, she’s so understanding, Lou,” Harry murmured. “We’re really lucky to have her, especially given how – well, you know.” Louis nodded, feeling guilty. Even though it had all worked out for the best for Hannah with James, he still often felt badly about how their relationship had ended. He’d apologised and Hannah had happily accepted multiple times, but there was still a part of him that couldn’t forgive himself. He had resolved himself to the fact that he would be forever indebted to her and would always be there if she ever needed him, just like she was doing for him.

“She reckons she’s happy to help,” Louis told him. “Let’s just enjoy the fact that it hopefully takes some of Modest!’s attention off us for the time being. I haven’t heard anything from them or Simon in ages and I want to keep it that way!” Harry nodded in fervent agreement. Just then, a knock came to the door – breakfast had arrived.

***

“Ready?” Louis asked, adjusting the screen of his laptop so that both he and Harry were in shot.

“Yep, let’s do it,” Harry responded, bouncing with excitement. Louis hit the Go Live button and sat back while it connected. Feeling a little bit rebellious and reckless, he gave Harry a cheeky kiss while it did. Once they had successfully connected and the livestream began, Louis noticed that the light from their entrance was causing glare on the screen. He reached up and grabbed Harry’s face, squishing his cheeks.

“That light’s annoying,” he explained. “Can you just put your head there?” He guided Harry’s head towards him until it blocked out the offending light. Harry smirked and moved his head back so Louis would have to manhandle him again - and Louis was only too glad to comply. They giggled as they pulled and pushed, back and forth, loose and giddy. After readjusting themselves in better light, they turned their attention to the steadily increasingly number of viewers. Louis could hardly believe that so many people were taking time to watch them sit in their room, chatting and messing around. He felt like a bit of a fraud, so decided to make a real effort to make it worth the fans’ while, giving shoutouts and reading out messages from them as they scrolled up the screen.

“Ooh, that one’s a bit rude,” Louis grinned, pointing out a particularly sexually explicit one aimed at Harry. He smiled at Harry’s immediate awkwardness in response to the comment and marvelled at how paradoxical his public and private sides were; his Harry was so sexually open and experimental, talking freely about his wants and desires, yet here he sat blushing at a random comment from a stranger who claimed she wanted to fuck him. Louis felt a warm glow in his chest that only he got to have that part of Harry, even if it had to be behind closed doors. In an effort to refocus and make Harry more comfortable, Louis decided to prank call Matt, quickly checking to make sure his number was on private before dialling and changing to loudspeaker. When the call went to voicemail, Louis decided Matt wasn’t going to get off that easily and waited until the tone before leaving a recording of him screaming loudly into the receiver.

“MAATTTTT,” he yelled. “HEEEEEELLLLLLPPPP!” He approved the recording, chuckling to himself and thinking how badly it would make Matt jump when he listened to it later. His smile faded quickly though as a slew of new comments came pouring in on-screen.

OMG u just gave out Matt’s number

Can’t believe you did that!

hahahahaha

Thanks for the number, Louis!

U twat

Calling him now

07584670909 for anyone who missed it

“No, I haven’t,” Louis said slowly, brow furrowed. Harry glanced through the comments and jumped to Louis’ defence.

“How has he given his number out?” he demanded.

“Have I?” Louis pondered as horrible realisation began to dawn. Shit. The voicemail had automatically read out the number before he’d started recording his message and his phone had been on loudspeaker. He and Harry looked at each other for a moment before breaking into fits of laughter at their own idiocy.

“Has that actually just happened?” Harry grinned in disbelief. “You have to call him and tell him.”

“I’ll just text him,” Louis bargained, unwilling to reveal to Matt what he’d done, however accidental. “Can’t we blame it on Niall or something?” Louis considered his options for a moment before cutting off the camera. “I need to call him, don’t I?” Harry nodded and Louis groaned, putting his caller ID back on and hitting redial.

After an awkward phone call with Matt, the boys were back on camera once again. As the screen flickered to life, only Harry was in the frame, so Louis quickly closed the space between them.

“Let’s get a little closer,” he quipped in a silly voice, only very vaguely reminiscent of Niall’s accent. He scooted over until they sat arm to arm and gazed at the grainy image of Harry on the screen. “Harry, you look really cute.” Realising what he’d blurted out, Louis quickly changed the subject, offering to call fans who sent in their numbers. Hundreds immediately complied and they spent the following twenty minutes making phone calls that were invariably answered by screaming girls. They both found the whole thing very amusing, mostly picking numbers at random, but sometimes much more specifically.

“Oh look,” Louis said, pointing to the screen. “Let’s get Larry Stylinson!” Harry tapped at his phone screen, trying to quickly get the number down as the text scrolled by. There were hundreds and hundreds of messages coming through, even one from Anne sending her love to them both and fondly referring to them as her boys. Louis’ heart glowed at that one as he remembered just how desperately he had wanted to impress Anne in the early days of his relationship with Harry. It reminded him of how far they had come and just how intertwined not only they, but their families, now were. It should have perhaps felt daunting or scary, but Louis felt only contented happiness.

“Me and Louis had a really nice girls’ day out today, didn’t we?” Harry announced, regaining Louis’ attention as he looked over at him with a grin.

“Yes, me and Harry spent all day shopping, dining and eat cookie dough,” Louis replied teasingly, while Harry gazed at him fondly. “And watching girly films like Black Swan, which ended up being not that girly. Quite rude and quite violent.”

“It was good though,” Harry concluded for him, a sly smile creeping over his lips. Louis’ thoughts immediately flashed back to the very thorough snogging session they’d indulged in once the lights had gone down in the cinema and he nodded in agreement. It certainly had been.

A little before eleven, Louis heard a knock on the door and looked confusedly at Harry before rolling off the bed to answer. He yanked the door open to find Paul stood there, looking uncomfortable and holding a phone to his ear.

“You on Twitter?” he asked, and Louis nodded. “Yeah, they are.” There was a muffled reply, and he held the phone out to Louis, who accepted and held it to his ear in bewilderment.

“End the Twitcam,” came Simon’s icy voice from the other end. “Now.”  Harry glanced around and, seeing the look on Louis and Paul’s faces, quickly shut the laptop, cutting off the connection immediately.

“Why?” Louis demanded, furious. “It’s a Twitcam. It’s hardly that impo – “

“You realise they can be recorded?” he interrupted. Louis swallowed and said nothing. He hadn’t realised that. “Don’t go on together again.” The line went dead. Louis handed the phone back to Paul.

“Alright, bud?” he asked, watching Louis closely. Louis shrugged. “Sorry about that. He rang and demanded to speak with you.”

“It’s fine,” Louis muttered. “Not your fault.” Paul nodded and said an awkward goodnight to them both before Louis closed the door.

“So, I guess we can cross Twitcams off the list of things we’re allowed to do together?” Harry asked quietly, trying to keep his tone light. Louis nodded glumly as he sat down on the bed and lay his head against Harry’s shoulder. So much for staying out of Simon’s bad books.

Chapter Text

Simon’s displeasure was quickly forgotten in the excitement of the following day. The band was preparing to fly to LA to do some recording for their album and they were all feeling giddy with nervous anticipation. While the recording sessions in London and Brighton had been incredible, there was something about doing it in LA that seemed to bring the excitement to a whole new level. It felt glamorous, monumental and terrifyingly exhilarating all at once and Louis couldn’t wait. They spent the preceding day packing for their five days away, with Harry taking on the lion’s share of preparation in their suite.

“Okay,” he announced authoritatively, eyes scanning the list he’d written several hours before. “I’ve packed a couple of pairs of chinos and some joggers for you, do you want any jeans?” From his sprawled-out position on their bed, Louis hummed thoughtfully.

“No shorts?” he asked, disappointedly. “Thought LA was supposed to be sunny!”

“It’s January, Lou,” Harry smiled softly. “I don’t think it’ll be shorts weather. So, jeans?” Louis nodded. “The skinny ones that make your bum look good?”

“My bum always looks good, Styles,” Louis teased, making Harry giggle. “Feel free to pack them for your viewing pleasure.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Harry rolled his eyes, attempted exasperation negated by his grin. “Do you reckon we’ll have free time to do stuff?”

“Probably not much,” Harry replied as he folded Louis’ jeans up neatly and added them to his case. “I think they’ll probably want to make the most of the time we’re out there, so we’ll just be in the studio.”

“That’s a bit crap,” Louis frowned. “It’d be quite nice to wander around somewhere that no one knows us.”

“Yeah, it would,” sighed Harry wistfully. “We could hold hands!” Louis smiled at the sweet innocence of his exclamation. He wanted nothing more than to walk down the street holding Harry’s hand and proudly showing him off.

“We can definitely make some time for public handholding,” Louis smiled, hopping off the bed and wandering over to peer into his almost full case. “Oi, why are there so many of your socks in here?” Harry shuffled uncomfortably, caught out.

“You need to start wearing socks, Louis,” he told him firmly.

“But I’m wearing Toms,” Louis exclaimed, gesturing towards his feet.

“Those need to go,” Harry retorted bluntly, and Louis glared at him. “They stink, Lou!”

“They’re comfy!” Louis argued stubbornly.

“They’re gross!” Harry insisted. “We’ll get you some new ones over there. Just some converse or something. Anything but those!”

“Carry on like this and you’ll be holding your own hand, Styles!” Louis declared haughtily. Harry snorted and threw the pair of socks he was holding into Louis’ case with the others.

***

Louis was unsurprised to find a small number of paparazzi waiting for them at the airport. It seemed that they always knew where the band would be at any given time and Louis found himself wondering whether they were being told when and where to show up by someone. He had never given much thought to it before, but as he grew to understand more about the industry, the media and the world of celebrity, it seemed likely that the images that appeared in magazines were, like everything else seemed to be, part of a calculated game plan, decided by the Simon Cowells of the world. As the cameras flashed, he trailed behind Harry through Heathrow’s departure hall, trying to keep his expression neutral and calm while he wondered what the pictures would even be used for. Who would want to see him wheeling a case around on the way to catch a flight?

While he pondered this, he glanced up to catch sight of Zayn giving one of his signature smouldering gazes in the direction of the flashing camera and smirked teasingly at him. Zayn was always ready with the enigmatic half-smile and bedroom eyes when the cameras were out, and Louis wondered if he would ever find himself capable of the same. He had long since resigned himself to being the loud, funny and occasionally cute one; sexy had never really been his vibe. Besides, Stan had subjected him to six months of merciless torture when Louis started wearing scarves and cardigans in Sixth Form; he dreaded to think how much ammunition photos of sultry poses would provide for his friend. Louis was long past the days of caring about what people thought of him or trying to impress people, but he knew that the lads from home, even Stan, could be pretty judgemental about things they weren’t used to. Even when Louis had decided to grow his hair longer, he’d had to listen to them sing Justin Bieber songs every time he came into the room. It was stupid and juvenile, without any real intended malice, but it still niggled at something inside him: a tiny little insecure part that was carefully concealed behind loud jokes and high energy. Not for the first time, Louis contemplated his place in his friendship group, in the band and in general. He felt more comfortable in his own skin now than he ever had before and he knew that was predominantly driven by Harry; he sometimes felt like Harry was the only person he could be his whole self with.

Growing up, Louis had often found that he had to make a conscious effort to fit the mould of the ‘lad’ stereotype and, when his mum and Mark had got together, he had leaned into that with football. He and Mark had bonded over the sport and Louis genuinely loved it. He had never stopped to wonder how much of that passion had been influenced by the fact that it meant impressing his new dad, too. He knew Mark wouldn’t have cared if he had hated the sport, but it was an easy way for the two of them to have something special, something to tie them together. Jay had encouraged it too, relieved that her two boys seemed to fit together so seamlessly, creating the family she had always dreamed of. When the girls came along, football was something for just the Tommo lads and Louis supposed a small part of him liked that it was a link that Mark didn’t have with the girls. It was never acknowledged, but the fact that there was no biological connection remained, and it niggled at Louis when he was a kid. Hearing the often uttered “Fancy a kickabout, son?” became a balm for the little cracks in Louis’ heart that appeared each time he wondered why Troy hadn’t stayed. He was enough for Mark; he was his boy, his little lad and Louis was glad to be on the Tomlinson team.

But for all of the wonderful benefits it brought to him, Louis had to admit that football culture in general could be cruel, especially when teenage boys were involved. Louis remembered being twelve years old and crying in his mum’s arms when another boy on the football team had called him gay and accused him of looking at him while they were getting changed after practice.

“But I wasn’t looking at him, Mum,” little Louis had sobbed, cheeks aflame with embarrassment at the accusation. “I don’t like him like that.” Jay stroked his hair and cuddled him close.

“I know, love,” she murmured. “Don’t listen to him.”

It wasn’t the first time Louis had heard comments of the same nature being thrown around. He’d been to games with Mark where grown men had sneered as they spoke about players being ‘bum-chums’ and called the referee a ‘fucking faggot’ when his decision went against their team. It was simply a part of how these men spoke, like the constant swearing and the comments about one another’s wives and girlfriends. Mark often frowned and occasionally tried to distract Louis if the conversations became too lewd or graphic, but he never said anything to the men, so Louis hadn’t thought much of it. But now the comments were coming from a familiar source and, even worse, they were being aimed at him. Suddenly it all felt much more important than it had done in the stands at Keepmoat, because gay was the worst thing you could be called when you were a Year 8 lad with a slight frame and delicate features. So Louis did what his mum and Mark had always told him to do and stood up for himself. Refusing to be a target, he looked around at who else they called gay: the boys who sat quietly in class, smiled at the teacher and spoke softly, who did their homework and wore the correct uniform, who were friends with the girls and tried to help others. He took it all in and began to carve out his own path to acceptance. He couldn’t be bigger, so he became louder, shouting out and making jokes at every opportunity. He hated getting into trouble with his teachers, but he loved the grins on the faces of the other boys, the nods of approval that fuelled him. He found that he fit the role easily and that friendships soon followed. As the weeks went on, he went from Louis, to Lewis, to Tommo, and his reputation solidified. He was Tommo the lad, the class clown, always up for a bit of banter and a game of footy. But he never forgot how he felt, curled up on his mum’s lap, sobbing his heart out, so he sometimes hated himself just a little when he laughed at Nizam’s jokes about ‘that little queer in the year below’, but he joined in anyway because at least it wasn’t him anymore.

As they moved into Year 9, the game changed again. Suddenly, being friends with girls was not only allowed but encouraged. Louis breathed a sigh of relief; talking with girls was easy. The other lads watched in awe as Louis confidently joked with who they deemed to be the prettiest girl in the year, seemingly unperturbed by her mysterious femininity. They questioned Louis about his tactics, his lines, his tricks, but Louis only smirked.

“Girls just love me, lads.”

And it was the truth. Louis felt relaxed around the girls he made friends with. Maybe it was because of his relationship with his mum and his sisters, or perhaps for other reasons he couldn’t quite figure out yet, but Louis found the opposite sex a breeze and revelled in the status his mysterious power afforded him with the rest of the boys. Throughout Year 10, he found himself in demand, texting multiple girls at once, meeting them behind the gym for a sneaky snog or inviting them to the cinema if they were particularly interesting or popular. But he found himself getting bored easily and moving onto the next one within a few weeks each time. The rest of the lads took delight in this, grinning as they shared rumours of his latest conquest and making crude suggestions as to who and what he should move onto next. Louis never gave anything away, reminding them that he had little sisters and that he wouldn’t like lads talking about them in years to come.

By the time Year 11 rolled around, the lads’ suggestions were becoming increasingly lecherous, and Louis was beginning to find that remaining schtum in the name of being respectful had grown old with his friends. As Louis’ relationships had all been so fleeting, they had all remained relatively innocent with little more than snogging and a fleeting touch here and there. But now that they were turning 16, there were parties with no parents and lots of alcohol, and Louis’ friends had stories of their own – and with these stories came lots of questions. As the other boys gave detailed replays of every touch, squeeze and lick of their various encounters, they expected Louis to do the same.

“Heard you got off with Soph on Friday night, Tommo?” Nizam smirked, taking a deep drag of his cigarette as he lounged at the foot of the slide, bathed in the orange glow of the streetlight overhead. Louis smiled his secret smile and sipped at his can of Red Bull as he swayed back and forth lazily on the swing. But Nizam’s gaze was unwavering, and Louis knew he’d have to say something this time. 

“Yeah, we’ve been texting a bit, so…” Louis trailed off and shrugged, hoping it’d be enough to placate his mates.

“Well, share the details, mate,” Nizam grinned, glancing around at the others. “We’re all wondering the same thing.” Louis frowned at him nonplussed, so Nizam elaborated. “Are her tits actually that big or is it a padded bra?”

“Um, yeah, they’re big,” Louis supplied vaguely as Stan laughed out loud at Louis’ attempted elusiveness.

“How far did you get?” Nizam pressed, leaning forward now as though he could sense Louis’ discomfort and was enjoying it. “I know Josh said she let him fuck her at Annabelle’s party.” Small beads of sweat began to gather around Louis’ hairline. He hadn’t done anything with Sophie, and he knew from their conversations that Josh hadn’t either. He could do the same thing and simply lie, but that didn’t seem fair to Sophie given how people like Niz took it as a green light to be disrespectful. But the expectant eyes of his friends were all on him, and suddenly the outdoor park they were lounging in felt empty of air.

“Tommo the gentleman,” crowed Geoff delightedly when Louis’ silence went on a moment too long. “Too nice to share the filthy details!” Louis felt his cheeks flush as Nizam narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Did she pie you off, mate?” he questioned without a hint of sympathy. “That’s embarrassing. You must be losing your touch!”

“Obviously not,” Louis retorted, annoyed. “Are you so desperate for a shag that you have to hear all about mine?” Nizam and Geoff looked at one another and snorted, clearly unconvinced, which only riled Louis up further.

“You would want to get a fuck soon, Tommo,” Nizam smirked, eyes glinting maliciously. “You’re very tense.”

“Oh, fuck off, Niz,” Louis spat, forcing himself to regain composure. “I’ll call your mum for a quick one if it gets too much.” Stan and Geoff cackled at Louis’ comment and Nizam’s demeanour immediately changed as he backed down. Louis was relieved that the conversation was over but couldn’t help but feel that he wouldn’t be able to simply avoid the questions for much longer. 

While Louis should’ve spent Year 11 focusing on his GCSEs, he spent it maintaining his reputation. He went to parties, drank and smoked, played and followed football obsessively, got off with girls and, one cold and rainy February night, lost his virginity in a hurried, dissatisfying fumble upstairs in Stan’s house while his parents were away for the weekend. As he lay beside the petite and pretty brunette from his Geography class, he felt his heartbeat begin to slow and embarrassment take over.

“Was that –“ he began, glancing over and catching her eye.

“It was fine,” she smiled, turning to face him. “That wasn’t your first time, was it?”

“Nah, just been a while,” Louis lied, remaining flat on his back to avoid her eye. “Shall we go back downstairs?” She frowned at him but nodded, fixing her dress where it had ridden up and looking around for her underwear. Louis eased off the condom, noting how awkward the bit after sex was. He didn’t know what to say to her and he felt extremely vulnerable with his joggers around his ankles and a condom full of his own cum in his hand.

“I’m just gonna go sort this,” he gestured vaguely as he yanked up his trousers and headed off to the bathroom. He dumped the condom and its contents into the toilet before flushing it. The condom remained stubbornly in the bowl and Louis screwed his eyes shut in frustration - could this be any worse? He took longer than strictly necessary to clean himself up and go back to the bedroom. It was empty. Sitting on the bed, he felt overwhelmed with emotions that he couldn’t quite place. He knew he was supposed to feel proud and excited that he finally reached the milestone his mates had been obsessed with since they were thirteen, but he just felt oddly empty. Had he done it wrong? He did the only thing that felt right, taking out his phone and dialling as he stood to close the door of the bedroom.

“Mum?” he whispered, his throat feeling thick. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

It was easier after that first time. He found that if he was less in his head and just focused on the sensations, he actually quite enjoyed sex, especially blowjobs. It was easy to relax when there wasn’t someone right in front of you, demanding attention. He could just focus on how it felt and let his imagination run wild. He liked touching girls too, enjoyed the little moans he could elicit from them when he rubbed his fingers in slow, firm circles, the little gasps when he grazed his teeth across their hardened nipples. He found that girls were the same during sex as they were in life: communicative and easy to understand if you just listened carefully. He was always clear and honest with them that he didn’t want anything more and generally they were fine with that, especially when the news was followed by an orgasm. Another thing you could count on with girls: they talked to their friends. Just as he had done in Year 9, Louis found himself in high demand, much to the chagrin on his mates. Louis still remembered the horrible feeling as he curled up on his mum’s lap all those years ago and he felt both relieved and proud at how far he had come. He was self-assured and confident now; no one could bully him into feeling ashamed because he knew who he was and so did they. If someone tried to embarrass him now, he could just laugh in their face, make a witty and cutting remark and go on about his day. As for comments about sexuality, well those were easily refuted nowadays.

However, his focus on girls, sport and parties meant that Louis finished Year 12 with a solid reputation, but no AS Levels to speak of. He knew he wasn’t stupid, but he’d allowed himself to prioritise the wrong things for too long. He’d done okay in his GCSEs, but Sixth Form required a lot more focus and attention from him. Louis needed a change and a new school seemed like the perfect option. He’d walked into Holy Cross with his head held high, ready to make the most of his time there and even try some new things. He had always loved Drama classes in lower school, but flouncing around on stage didn’t exactly lend itself to the image he had tried so hard to cultivate, so he’d given it up after Year 9. But it was different now, he was different now. So, with the encouragement of some of his new friends, Louis threw himself into acting and loved every second – and it wasn’t scary at all. There was no one calling him a faggot for singing; no one accusing him of looking at them as they changed out of their costumes; no one judging him on anything other than his talent. It was easy and exhilarating and Louis finally felt free and comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t need to be Tommo the lad anymore; he was just Louis. Louis who enjoyed drama and singing, who was funny and easy going, who loved his little sisters and his mates. Just Louis.

But now, as he sat on a plane bound for LA, it felt like he was back to square one: hiding who he was so people would like him more. Louis pressed his forehead against the small window and gazed at the vast expanse of blue across the horizon and the fluffy clouds that blanketed the world below. Was this the right choice? He didn’t want to go backwards; he wanted to be himself, unapologetically and completely. His thoughts were interrupted as he felt gentle fingers stroke the back of his hand and he looked over to see Harry watching him intently. Warmth enveloped Louis and he felt his anxiety melt away. Harry knew him, accepted him, loved him completely. That was the difference between then and now: he had his Hazza. 

Chapter Text

After a restful night’s sleep in the hotel, Louis and Harry began their day the American way with huge plates of pancakes, bacon and maple syrup ordered to their room. Ravenous after all of the travelling the day before, they wolfed it down quickly and were nursing their very full tummies when the others arrived at their door.

“Oi, oi!” Zayn exclaimed as he bounced into the room, throwing himself on top of Louis’ bed, dangerously close to his bloated stomach. Niall and Liam traipsed in behind him, neither quite so energetic nor loud as Zayn.

“You’re very upbeat this morning,” Harry noted with a smile.

“Just excited to get to the studio, man!” Zayn exclaimed happily. “Looking forward to getting started.” The others voiced their agreement and Harry got out his laptop to check his email for the schedule of the day, while Louis logged into the band Twitter account on his.

“We’re supposed to let fans know we’ve arrived apparently,” he told the others, following a message from their ‘Digital Content Manager’ earlier that morning. Louis wasn’t aware that that was even a job, but he thought it best not to mention that. “What should I say? We haven’t even done anything apart from eat breakfast.” 

“Just put that, then,” shrugged Liam and Louis began to type.

Hey everyone me and Harry have just had pancakes and maple syrup for breakfast. Great way to start the day : ) Miss you all! Louis & Harry x

He turned the laptop screen to let the others read it and posted it when they gave their approval. Logging into his personal Twitter, Louis scrolled through, retweeting and favouriting as he went. Meanwhile, Harry was going through the schedule for the following days.

“So, we’re in the studio all day today,” he told them. “Then we actually have a day off tomorrow, and back into the studio on the 28^th.” The others nodded along as he explained, their eyes lighting up at the mention of a day off.

“What time do we finish at the studio on the 28^th?” Louis asked, a vague plan already forming in his head.

“At six,” Harry confirmed, checking the email for details. “Maybe we could all go out for dinner or something.” They others made noises of agreement and, while Louis smiled and nodded, his mind was on Harry’s comment from the day before about them being able to hold hands in public. The fact that Harry genuinely longed for something so simple and innocent made Louis heart ache and he decided that he was going to do what he could to make it happen. Holding hands in public was a good start, but he wanted to take advantage of their relative anonymity in the States to take Harry out on a proper date. A romantic night out together where they could sit opposite one another in the flickering candlelight, their legs touching under the table while they tried food off one another’s fork, held hands between courses, and shared a dessert. They were all small, simple things that had never struck Louis as particularly important, but the idea of getting to do them all with Harry made his heart sing. Making his mind up, he set his laptop to the side and wandered off to look up some restaurants and book a table, telling the others that he was going to use the bathroom.

As soon as Louis disappeared into the bathroom, Zayn launched for his laptop and dragged it onto his lap.

“Ha, he left it logged in!” he crowed delightedly. “Such a fool!” He began tapping away on the keyboard, pausing to think how he could best embarrass his friend.

“Z, don’t,” Harry protested. “That’s not fair.”

“Quiet down, Haz,” Niall tutted. “He left his laptop open to attack – it’s fair game! Or are you forgetting the many times he’s done the same to me?” Harry opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn’t deny that Louis would be the first to tweet something humiliating from someone else’s account, so he accepted defeat and waved them off.

“I’m taking no part,” he told them, and Zayn chuckled menacingly as he typed.

“Oh, you’ll be involved alright, H,” he cackled. “Think of it as revenge for all the creaking bedsprings and moans we’ve been subjected to!” Harry’s eyes widened in horror as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

“What did you do?” he demanded, opening Twitter and going to Louis’ profile.

Ohh yeah and we had sausage with our pancakes : ) x

“I didn’t have sausage, I had bac – “ Harry started, but the rest of his sentence was drowned out as Niall and Liam looked over Zayn’s should and the three of them dissolved into howls of laughter.

“I think he means a different kind of sausage, H,” Liam choked out, tears in his eyes as he clapped Zayn on the back. Realisation dawned on Harry and he put his phone down, attempting to remain dignified while his cheeks blushed pink.

“Very mature,” he sniffed, rolling his eyes, but this only made the others laugh harder. There was a loud slam of a door and an incensed Louis suddenly appeared, brandishing his phone threateningly.

“Right, which of you wankers posted that?”

***

Settling himself on his and Harry’s comfy bed, Louis scrolled through his contacts and dialled his mum’s number.

“Hello?” came a small, high voice from the speaker.

“What are you doing answering Mum’s phone, troublemaker?” Louis demanded playfully and was met with a squeal from the other end of the line.

“Dais! It’s Louis!” the voice screeched and suddenly there was a babble of two excited voices speaking over one another, so loud that Louis had to move the phone slightly further from his ear. He chuckled to himself and simultaneously felt a pang at how much he missed his baby sisters.

“– and I won Star of the Week at school last week,” Daisy was telling him proudly. “That’s the third time this year! Pheebs has only won it twice – “

“I have not!” came Phoebe’s agitated reply. “I’ve won it three times too! And I even – “

“You haven’t!” Daisy interrupted. “She’s lying, Louis – “

“Girls, girls, calm down!” Louis said firmly and the bickering trailed off. “Don’t worry, Mum has been telling me all about all of your awards. Both of you! And I’m really proud of you for doing so well at school.”

“Thanks, Lou!” they chorused, and Louis couldn’t help but smile. “Shall we get Mum for you?”

“Yes, please,” Louis replied, relieved that the bickering had come to an end. After a few seconds silence, he heard his mum on the other end.

“Hi Boo,” she said warmly. “How are you doing?”

“Hi Mum,” he replied, the same pang of sadness hitting him once again. “Were you trying to call me earlier?”

“Yeah, just wondering how everything is going,” she told him, the background noise of the twins disappearing as she presumably moved into another room.

“Really good so far,” Louis said with a smile. “The recording studio was amazing, and I think we got some really good stuff, so I’m excited to hear it once it’s ready.”

“That sounds amazing, babe,” she exclaimed happily. “How’s Harry?”

“He’s really good,” Louis said, feeling a bit embarrassed at the smile that automatically came over his face when he thought of Harry. “We had some free time to go shopping and stuff today. I’d forgotten how much better it is to be able to wander around without anyone knowing who you are!”

“Oh, you poor little famous boy!” Jay teased with a laugh.

“Shush you,” Louis exclaimed. “You know what I mean! Like getting to act like a normal couple without worrying about getting into trouble. I didn’t realise how much I missed being able to, like, hold hands or give him a cuddle.”

“That must be really hard, love,” Jay responded, worry tinging her voice. “I don’t like how much they’re expecting of the two of you. It’s not healthy to have to hide like that.”

“I know, but it’s just how it’s gonna be for a while,” Louis shrugged. “We knew that when we signed the contracts.” He could picture his mum’s tight-lipped expression as she held back from ranting about Simon; they’d been through this conversation a million times.

“Well, you know how I feel about it,” Jay told him. “But you’re old enough to make your own choices now. Both of you are. I am glad that you’re getting some quality time together, though.”

“Me too. It’s been really lovely,” Louis said. “How is everything at home?”

“The girls are fine,” she reported. “Constantly fighting with each other, but what else is new! Lottie has decided she wants to be a make-up artist now.”

“Oh, really?” Louis inquired, surprised. “I could probably speak to Lou about her getting some work experience or something.”

“Maybe when she’s a bit older, love,” Jay replied. “She’ll probably change her mind a million times before then!”

“True!” Louis laughed. “How’s Dad?” There was an uncomfortable silence from the other end of the line. “Is everything okay with you two?”

“I don’t know, love,” Jay sighed finally. “But hey, it’s nothing for you to worry about, okay? We’re just having a bit of a rough patch at the minute, but I’m sure we’ll work it out.” Louis considered her words. Privately, he felt that they had been in the middle of a ‘rough patch’ for several years now, but he wouldn’t upset his mum further by voicing that.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, feeling the distance between them more starkly than ever.

“I don’t think so, Boo,” Jay replied sadly. “I think the fact that you do so much for us might be part of the problem. I don’t think we appreciated how much you helped with the girls and everything, and now we’re realising how tough it is without you.”

“I’m so sorry, Mum,” Louis said guiltily. “I can try to come back up home more often or – “

“Louis, stop,” Jay interrupted. “I’m not telling you this so that you’ll feel guilty or offer to help more. I’m saying that I always knew how lucky we were to have you, but I never fully appreciated how much you did for us. But you don’t need to, it isn’t your responsibility. Mark and I are the parents, not you. And I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like you had to take on any of that responsibility.”

“I knew I never had to, Mum,” Louis replied, a lump forming in his throat. “I like helping out with the girls. I never minded taking on a bit extra, if it helped you out.”

“I know, darling,” Jay said, her voice breaking now. “And we all love you for it. But this is your time now; go and enjoy and don’t worry about anything else.”

“But Mum, I just – “

“No, love,” Jay said firmly. “We’ll be okay. We’ll work it out. We just want you to go and have all of the amazing experiences possible. You deserve them so much, Boo.”

“Thanks, Mum,” he mumbled, tears welling in his eyes. “I miss you all loads.”

“We miss you,” Jay replied. “More than anything. I’ll see you at Harry’s birthday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed quietly, not trusting his voice to hold steady.

“Looking forward to it,” Jay said, warmth returning. “Can’t wait to see you both.”

“Me too,” he replied.

“I love you, Boo,” she said softly. “No worrying, okay? We’ll be alright.”

“Okay, Mum,” he choked out. “Love you, speak soon.” Louis hung up and laid back on the bed, guilt gnawing a huge hole in his chest.

***

The final day in LA was far and away Louis’ favourite one. He was determined to set aside the revelations from his conversation with his mum and instead focus on the recording session with the band and the date with Harry. During the couple of days they had spent in LA, he had been sneaking off to make phone calls to secure reservations and order cars; he even convinced Harry to pick out a new outfit when they’d gone shopping on their day off. Louis was excited for their big date, and planning it all in secret, knowing how surprised Harry would be, made it even more fun.

But before a romantic evening could ensue, their work in the studio had to be completed, and they arrived at 9AM sharp to get the most out of the day. They all piled out of their mini-van and made their way into the building with much more confidence than they had on the first day. They felt more comfortable now, knowing what was expected and enjoying the process of sitting down with the writers and going through their ideas. Zayn had mentioned quietly how frustrated he was with how little input they had on the songs, but Louis reiterated that it was their first album and that they couldn’t expect to have much creative control just yet. Louis was happy to spend time speaking to the writers about their process and learning that way, but he knew that it wasn’t what Zayn had expected. Harry and Niall, on the other hand, were just happy to be there, bouncing excitedly around the studio and following direction eagerly. Niall was thrilled that they wanted to use some of his guitar on the recordings and happily strummed away, learning off the melodies with practiced ease. Louis watched in awe as Liam and Zayn belted out impressive notes and found himself wishing he could do the same. But rather than wallow, he decided to be proactive and sought out the vocal coach to practice his part again and again until he was feeling confident and ready.

Back at the hotel, Louis followed Harry into their room and watched as Harry collapsed on the soft bed with a groan.

“Chop, chop, Styles,” he said sharply. “You need to get ready!” Harry lifted his head to gaze at him in confusion.

“For what?” he asked as Louis made his way over to straddle him and press soft kisses to his cheeks.

“All you need to know,” he told him playfully between kisses, “is that I have something special planned, and you need to go have a shower and put on that new outfit you bought yesterday.”

“Really?” Harry asked, excitement blossoming. “Where are we going? Is it just us? Are the –“ Louis cut him off with a kiss.

“Less questioning, more showering!” he ordered, climbing off Harry and bounding over to the wardrobe to retrieve his own outfit.

“Yes, sir!” Harry called as he sashayed into the bathroom, pulling off his t-shirt as he went as throwing it at Louis, a coquettish expression on his lovely face. Louis chuckled, shaking his head as he got out the iron for his shirt. A house with five children tends to produce mountains of ironing, so Louis had become a dab-hand over the years, and his wrinkle-free shirt was back on its hanger in minutes. He decided to save Harry the trouble and went to dig out his new outfit from the shopping bag that was still perched on their dressing table. He upended the bag, spilling the contents onto their bed. As he reached for the floaty linen shirt that Harry had chosen, a small bottle rolled out of the fabric and onto the duvet. Louis picked it up to inspect it and was surprised to find that it was nail polish. He turned the pale pink glass bottle over in his hands as he considered what it meant. Maybe Harry had bought it for Gemma – or maybe he hadn’t. Either way, Louis decided Harry would speak to him when he was ready. If there was, indeed, anything to speak about. He shrugged and popped the small bottle back into the bag with Harry’s other purchases, hanging onto the shirt for ironing.

“You look gorgeous, baby,” Louis murmured, wrapping his arms around Harry as he gazed at their reflections in the full-length mirror. Harry’s dimples flashed as he turned to face Louis, resting his arms around his neck.

“You do, too,” he smiled. “Really, really handsome.” They kissed for a moment until the ringing of Louis’ phone interrupted them. He sighed and released Harry, reaching into his pocket.

“Hello?”

“Your car has arrived, sir,” came a voice from the end of the line.

“Great, thanks,” Louis replied. “We’ll be right down.” He hung up and reached for Harry’s hand.

“Your chariot awaits,” he announced with a grin. They made their way down to reception and out into the courtyard where a beautiful Lincoln town car awaited their arrival. Louis shook the driver’s hand and introduced himself while Harry gaped at him. The driver opened their door for them and they hopped in, an expression of astonishment still painted on Harry’s face. They settled into the comfortable seats, as soft classical music floated from the speakers.

“Lou,” Harry breathed softly. “You organised this?” Louis nodded. “Why?” Louis turned to him, grateful for the music and the distance between them and the driver.

“I know you hate how much we have to keep things private, Haz,” he started, taking Harry’s hands in his own and looking into his eyes. “I know that you want us to be able to do all the things normal couples do. And I hate that I can’t give that to you at home. But here, for now at least, I can. I can take you out on a date and spoil you and treat you how you should be treated. So, for tonight, we’re just a normal couple, okay?” Tears gathered in Harry’s eyes, and he cupped Louis’ face with his hand.

“You’re the most perfect and amazing partner I could ever ask for,” he whispered softly, resting his forehead against Louis’. “I mean it, Lou, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you. I love you so much.” Louis smiled and pressed his lips to Harry’s in a chaste kiss.

“I love you, H,” he whispered back. “You’re my dream. You know that, don’t you?” Harry nodded gently, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. Louis caught it on the pad of his thumb and wiped it away. He shuffled around and let Harry rest his head on his shoulder while he clasped their hands together in his lap. Louis closed his eyes and revelled in the glorious feeling of contentedness for the entire drive.

“We’ve arrived at Firefly, sirs,” the driver announced as the car rolled to a stop outside a fairly non-descript, ivy-covered building. They exited the car and thanked the driver, who promised to be waiting for their call when they were done. Taking in the front of the building, Louis wondered if the interior could really match up to the beautiful images he’d spent hours perusing. But he needn’t have worried. As the Maître d’ ushered them inside, they were met with ceiling-high bookshelves and low velvet couches, all awash in a romantic, glowing red light. Louis glanced back at Harry who looked awestruck as he took it all in.

“Let me show you to your table,” the Maître d’ announced, and they followed him through the lounge onto the patio, alight with flickering candles, twinkling fairy lights and a roaring fireplace. But rather than take in the beauty of the place, Louis carefully watched Harry as he gazed around the dining area, mesmerised. The Maître d’ showed them to their small, secluded table and distributed menus before excusing himself.

“You like it?” Louis asked nervously. Harry stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s incredible,” he said, taking Louis’ hand. “Absolutely perfect.” Louis relaxed and squeezed Harry’s hand gently in his own, for once not remotely concerned that anyone could see them. Tonight was their night and he planned to enjoy every second of it.

Chapter Text

Their return to Heathrow was chaos. Fans and photographers alike swarmed the Arrivals gate, all trying to catch a glimpse, a shot or a touch of the five boys. While he enjoyed the excitement of it, Louis was glad to be back in the little sanctuary of his and Harry’s suite. Once the door swung closed and he dropped his bags, the outside world disappeared, and it was just the two of them again. No photographers shouting at him to look this way or that, no teenage girls screaming and crying right into his face, no one actively trying to rip his clothes off – although that might change if the way Harry was looking at him was anything to go by. Louis loved how easily he could read Harry’s expressions and movements. He sometimes felt like they hardly needed words to communicate and that thought filled him with the most glorious feeling of soft warmth. Of course, it helped that Harry’s face was incredibly expressive and the boy couldn’t hide his emotions to save his life. But right now, Harry’s body was shifting restlessly where he sat on the edge of their bed, and he was looking up at Louis coyly through his lashes as though trying to draw him in. Louis sidled over to stand between Harry’s legs and pull him close so that his head rested against Louis’ chest.

“You okay, Hazza?” Louis mumbled into Harry’s hair, softly nuzzling into the curls. Harry hummed in response, enjoying the closeness as he wrapped his arms around Louis’ lower back.

“Just happy to be home,” he murmured softly, moving his head back to look up at Louis. Louis bent lower to catch Harry’s lips in a soft kiss. “Bed?”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Styles?” Louis grinned down at him, and Harry shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said nonchalantly. “Is it working?”

“Always,” Louis laughed, pushing Harry back onto the bed and climbing atop him.

***

Louis spent all of the following day preparing for Harry’s birthday. While seventeen wasn’t a particularly big birthday, it was their first together and he wanted to make it special for him. So, he set about organising a cake and double-checking his table booking at TGI Fridays. It wouldn’t have been his first choice of restaurant, but he knew that it was, for reasons best known to himself, Harry’s favourite. He called Anne and Jay, confirming times with them, and text the lads a reminder before turning his attention to the best part – the birthday card. He had printed out some of his favourite pictures, including an adorable one of baby Harry and one of them together, which he had artfully arranged on the blank card. Around the images, he had painstakingly written dozens of quotes and memories that were special to them both. Some were silly lines from films that they both loved, some were in-jokes that they shared, and they all came together to create a card that embodied the two of them. Satisfied with the outside, he opened the card and began to think about what he wanted the main message to say. Although he verbalised his feelings about Harry constantly, he was finding it difficult to put it into writing on the blank space in front of him. He twirled the pen in his hand distractedly as he thought hard; it hardly seemed possible to narrow down what Harry’s meant to him to a single paragraph. Ever so slowly, in his neatest writing, he began to move the pen across the page:

Dear H,

Happy birthday to my favourite!

Only one more year of Baby Haz left, then you’re a proper grown up like me. I spent ages trying to come up with the perfect thing to write in this card, but I realised that there’s nothing I can put on paper that comes close to explaining how much you mean to me and how unbelievably happy I am to have you in my life. The last (almost) year has been incredible and that’s mostly because of you. I can’t imagine doing and seeing everything I have without you, and I can’t wait for what comes next. I’m so glad you almost knocked me out with a door all those months ago!

I hope you have the best birthday, and I can’t wait to spend lots more of them with you, my Hazza.

All of my love always,
Boo Bear xx

Louis set down his pen and read back over the message. There was no one else in the world he would be so candid with in writing, not even his mum. Harry’s earnestness with his own feelings had definitely rubbed off on him. Then again, maybe it was because he felt so completely secure with Harry. He could lay his heart completely bare in total faith that Harry would be careful and gentle with it, treating it like something precious and delicate. That type of pure vulnerability wasn’t something Louis had ever experienced before and he loved how it felt. Smiling to himself, he closed the card and popped it into the waiting envelope before hiding it away with Harry’s gifts, ready for the big day.

***

As their time at Richmond Hill came to an end, Louis began to realise just how much he would miss it. He loved that he had so much uninterrupted private time with Harry while also being only a few doors away from the rest of the band or the girls. He imagined that it was a bit like being in uni halls and spending most of your time lounging around your mates’ rooms, but with rehearsals rather than lectures – which seemed infinitely more fun. On the other hand, he was very much looking forward to being on the tour bus again. He had been delighted to discover that the band would be getting a bus to themselves, with the remainder of the finalists split into two other buses by gender. He was already prepared for the warning that came from Zayn as they loaded up their bags and claimed beds once again.

“Same rule as last time,” he warned, pointing between Louis and Harry. “No noise or you’re in separate beds.”

“Yeah, you’re not in your fancy lovers’ suite anymore!” Niall chimed in, evidently still stung by missing out on the upgraded hotel room. Louis chuckled at Niall’s chagrin but nodded in acknowledgement of their rule. Harry, however, was not quite so amenable.

“But we’re gonna be on this bus for nearly two months!” he exclaimed. “Do you really expect us to be celibate for all that time? That’s ridiculous!”

“We’re not saying you have to be celibate,” Liam reassured him. “Just that we don’t want to hear it. Save it for when we’re not here. Or go somewhere else, ideally.”

“I don’t –“ Louis put his hand on Harry’s arm and he broke off, looking around at him questioningly.

“That’s fine, Liam,” Louis smiled, sliding his hand down Harry’s arm to tangle their fingers together and tugging him towards the back of the bus, where they had a small but cosy living area with a deep in-built sofa and a media centre. Louis threw himself down on the sofa while Harry slid the door shut before settling down beside him with a pouty expression on his face.

“So, you’re fine with us essentially having a sex ban?” he demanded. Louis chuckled at his theatrics before shaking his head.

“Not at all,” he replied, reaching over to play with a curl by Harry’s ear as he spoke. “But I know, with that lot, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. They can never stay mad at us – we’re too cute.” He grinned as realisation dawned on Harry’s face. “Plus, this little bit of the bus is plenty private, too.”

“You’re so sneaky,” Harry giggled, pulling Louis in for a kiss.

They arrived in Birmingham around noon on the first day of the tour. Nervous energy flowed from all directions as the band and the other finalists prepared for their opening performance that evening. The afternoon was hectic as the nine acts completed last minute rehearsals, sound checks and wardrobe decisions. Louis swung around in the makeup chair while Harry carefully inspected the array of looks, all neatly hanging on the rail. He flipped through them slowly, feeling the materials as he went, seemingly absorbed by the details. Louis couldn’t say he always understood Harry’s interest in fashion, but he loved watching how entranced he was by it. Louis’ main concern, on the other hand, was how incredibly uncomfortable-looking the dresses and heels appeared to be. He felt relieved to find that Grace wasn’t planning to put him into any similarly ridiculous getup as she pulled out a striped polo and some navy chinos for him to try on.

“Here, love,” she smiled. “Get these on so I can see if you need any changes.”

“Feel sorry for the girls having to perform in those,” Louis grimaced, nodding towards the towering stilettoes he presumed would adorn Cher’s feet in a few hours’ time. “I’d be ass over tits in no time if I had to run around a stage in them.”

“Ah, our Cher is used to it,” Grace laughed. “She doesn’t mind.”

“Still,” Louis shrugged as he shucked his joggers unashamedly and stepped into the chinos he’d been given. “Doesn’t seem like a fair deal.”

“I dunno,” Harry said quietly, stroking the silky material of a pale blue, jacquard dress that hung in Katie’s section of the rail. “Their outfits are so much more interesting than ours. The material and the colours – there’s just so much more to choose from.”

“Are you saying you’re growing tired of my sailor chic strips?” Louis teased, gesturing at the polo shift he had just donned.

“Not at all,” Harry laughed. “It just might be fun to wear something other than a blazer sometime…” He glanced at Grace hopefully, but she gave him a sympathetic smile and shook her head.

“Afraid not, babes,” she told him, tugging as various parts of Louis’ ensemble to make them sit properly. “You’re stuck with the blazers for the tour. How else will the girls all know that you’re the charming posh one?”

“I’m not, though,” Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“For the purposes of this tour, you are,” Grace reminded him, spinning Louis around and fixing a belt through the loops of his chinos before inspecting his reflection in the mirror. “There, how’s that for you, Louis?”

“Yeah, fine,” Louis smiled, already pulling the outfit back off. “You have to be the posh one, Hazza. Me and Z can’t pull it off cos of the accents!” Harry smiled and shook his head.

“I like your accent,” he told Louis softly. Grace pretended not to hear as she put Louis’ outfit back on the rail, but her fond smile gave her away.

***

Louis was practically vibrating with excitement as he crouched down on the platform, ready to be lifted through the star trap and spring on stage. Even through the opening notes of Only Girl in the World from his in-ears, he could already hear the roar of the crowd above. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he waited and waited; their cue and the subsequent sudden movement of the lift had seemed to arrive much more quickly in rehearsal. An uncomfortable dryness made his tongue feel as though it were glued to the roof of his mouth and the hand holding his microphone began to tremble and twitch. Inhaling deeply, he glanced to his left and saw Liam’s shoulders rise and drop in exaggerated movements as he, too, took steadying breaths. Relieved that the nerves weren’t just limited to him, Louis caught Liam’s eye and flashed him a reassuring grin. Just then, the platform jolted and began to rise steadily upward. As the platform clicked into place, flush with the stage, Louis sprang upward through the cloud of dry-ice, sparkling pyrotechnics either side of him heralding his arrival . The screams from the crowd grew even louder. The lights, the sounds, the movement: everything swirled together in one huge wave of sensory stimulation and Louis felt his adrenaline take over. Nerves, fear and anxiety turned to pure energy, and he felt muscle memory from the hours and hours of practice guide his voice and his body through the opening words and movements of the song.

As Liam began his solo, Louis stole a glance at Harry, feeling a secret little thrill to find him already gazing at him from across the stage. He could see Harry’s nerves simmer at the surface as he bit into his lip, dropping his gaze; he needed a distraction. Louis caught his eye again and gave him a cheeky little wink, drawing out that lazy, dimpled Harry smile easily – and that was all it took. He watched Harry’s body visibly relax as he began to bound around the stage easily, the stiffness in his limbs evaporating. He was bathed in glowing golden lights from above, making his eyes sparkle and shine brilliantly as he sang. Louis was reminded of the first time he looked into Harry’s eyes, how he had felt like he was drowning in them; now he could glide through them endlessly, never needing to come up for air. The light spilled through the soft waves of his hair; those feathery coils that Louis’ fingers had both stroked lovingly and grasped in desperate passion countless times now. And his mouth. Harry’s beautiful, perfect mouth that held so much of him: the rich, husky warmth of his singing voice, tinged with a captivating vulnerability; the low hum as he spoke, thick and resonant, unrushed and thoughtful; the loud squawk of laughter that escaped unexpectedly from time to time. Louis loved them all, but none so much as the whispers that were only for the two of them. The soft, breathy whines and pants and sighs that belonged to him alone. Each murmured ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m yours’ that only existed for Louis. Those would always be his favourite. But he had to admit that this Harry, the one exuding euphoria and excitement and energy was a very close second. Louis would never – could never – tire of seeing him like this; he glowed, his soul alight with joy. Louis knew from the first moment they met that Harry was born to be a star; his boy would burn so brightly that he would set the world ablaze. 

Chapter Text

As the tour wore on, the excitement of performing became the norm, and the boys found themselves on the hunt for new forms of entertainment to fill their evenings when they weren’t on stage. It began innocently enough with some harmless intra-band pranks, like replacing Liam’s hand-sanitiser with PVA glue and putting glitter in Zayn’s hair gel, but word spread quickly and the pranks began to become more and more elaborate as time went on. Before he knew it, Louis found himself heading up a veritable pranking team as the band, the girls and Aiden all crammed into the 1D bus to plot their next set of antics. The victim? Wagner.

“He absolutely deserves it,” Katie said firmly, skinny legs dangling over the edge of Niall’s bunk as she lay her head on Cher’s lap. “He whinges constantly about every little thing. It’s really getting on my nerves!”

“Try living on a bus with him,” Aiden muttered darkly from where he was stretched on Liam’s bunk opposite. “He never cleans and then has the audacity to complain that the bus is a mess!”

“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled hesitantly, his knee knocking against Louis’ nervously where they sat, side-by-side. “I don’t know if he’ll see the funny side. I don’t want him to get really annoyed.”

“Who cares?” Cher laughed with a shrug as she braided loose strands on Katie’s wild mane, but Harry continued to frown and look concerned.

“Don’t worry, Haz,” Louis soothed, smiling indulgently at his boyfriend and slinging and arm around his shoulder. “He’ll never think it was you – you’re too nice! I’ll take the blame if he does, okay?” Harry shrugged noncommittally which the others took as a green light to start planning.

“Right,” said Aiden, sitting up and rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Any suggestions?”

“I’ve already suggested shaving his head,” Cher piped up from above.

“And I’ve already explained that that’s assault,” scolded Liam with a sigh, shifting some of the clothes off the spare bed to make room from himself.

“Shave off his moustache then?” suggested Niall with a grin, sliding in beside him.

“How exactly do you shave someone without them noticing?” Katie laughed, shaking her head.

“We could replace his moustache oil with something,” mumbled Harry, gazing down at his hands to avoid eye contact. The others looked at him in surprise and made noises of general assent.

“Not a bad idea, H,” Zayn grinned, reaching across from his own bed and clapping him on the back. “So much for not wanting to be involved!”

“No, I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” Harry backtracked, his cheeks beginning to turn pink. “It’s mean and –“

“I think it’s great!” Katie cut in, scrambling upright in excitement. “Something that smells bad so it’ll bother him all day!”

“Just like he does to me,” Aiden added slyly.

“What about that disgusting fish sauce stuff Haz was using that time he made that Thai curry?” Niall suggested. “Smelled like fish arse!”

“Hey!” whined Harry, affronted at the comment. “You liked that curry!” 

“The curry was lovely, mate,” Niall assured him. “But that bottle of stuff was nasty!” Liam and Zayn nodded in fervent agreement; they had all taken turns to take a whiff of the fish sauce bottle while Harry cooked and had all nearly gagged at the smell. It had taken Harry several attempts to convince them that, in spite of the stink, it tasted fine.

“Let’s do it then!” Cher grinned. “You lot sort the fish stuff,” - she gestured towards the band - “We’ll steal his oil,”- she pointed to herself, Katie and Bex - “And you can do the honours!” she grinned at Aiden.

“Why me?” he demanded.

“Because you share a bus with him,” Cher explained sweetly, as she climbed down from the bunk. “Plus, you find him more annoying than any of us!” Aiden scowled but finally agreed, and they all went off to rehearsal with the unmistakable glow of mischief around them.

***

After a quick visit to the nearest big Tesco, Louis bounded gleefully onto the girls’ tour bus, the pocket of his joggers weighed down with the little bottle of fish sauce. He was surprised to find only Mary aboard the vehicle, curled up on the sofa, reading, music playing softly in the background.

“Alright, lovey?” she smiled, looking up from her book.

“Yeah, good, thanks,” Louis replied, plopping himself down beside her. He hadn’t spent much time with Mary since they’d been in the XFactor house and he missed her soft, warm, maternal presence. “How’ve you been? Feels like I never see you anymore!”

“Well, you have lots of teenage mischief to be getting up to,” Mary chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye. “Whereas I am an old woman moving at a much slower pace.”

“You’re not old, Mare,” Louis winked. “You’ve still got plenty of energy once we get a couple of brandies into you!” Mary laughed heartily and shrugged, but didn’t deny the claim. “How’d you know I’m up to something anyway?”

“You have that look about you,” Mary smiled mysteriously before adding: “Plus the three girls were in here ten minutes ago and you know they can’t keep a single thing to themselves. So, I know all!”

“They’ve been spilling secrets, have they?” Louis laughed.

“Ah yeah, I have a direct line to the gossip mill with those three rascals!” she told him.

“So, you’ve heard about Zayn –” he began and she nodded sagely.

“It’s been mentioned,” she confirmed. “And I’ve heard all about Aiden’s new squeeze. Saw a picture, too – handsome lad.”

“Anyone else?” Louis questioned, trying to maintain a tone of nonchalance that she saw straight through.

“Ah now, Louis,” she shook her head with a small smile. “There are things that don’t need any confirmation. Just seeing you together tells me all I need to know.”

“Did you know before the tour?” Louis inquired curiously.

“Like when you asked me to help you pick out a special bottle of wine for the special dinner you were cooking for your special friend you mean?” Mary teased. “I had an inkling!” Louis snorted and gazed down at his hands, wondering how many people could know before it stopped being a secret. Mary took him in, worry puckering a small crease between her eyebrows. “Have you told your families?”

“Oh yeah,” Louis assured her, realising her misinterpretation. “I think Mum might’ve known how I felt before I did! How do mums do that?”

“Ah, it’s just a mam thing,” Mary chuckled fondly. “It’s a special power that we develop over the many sleepless newborn nights! So, Jay is happy for you. What about Mark?”

“We haven’t really spoken about it, to be honest,” Louis shrugged. “I know Mum has told him, but things have been a bit weird at home recently.” He didn’t know what made him tell her, but Mary seemed to always make him feel safe to open up, so he continued. “Things aren’t great between them at the minute and it’s made me feel a bit awkward.” Mary nodded knowingly and he carried on talking, words spilling from him like water now. “I mean, I’ve always been close to Mark, but if they do split up then I don’t know how I’m supposed to act. It’s not like I’m his real son.” He had never, ever said that out loud before and the stark realisation made his eyes well with tears.

“Oh love,” Mary said softly, taking his hand. “I’ve seen Mark at the live shows, cheering for you; I’ve spoken to him at the after parties when he’s been boasting about you. He couldn’t be more proud to call you his son.” Louis looked up at her, his vision blurred with tears. “I know it’s confusing and difficult, maybe even more so when you’re not a child anymore. But he’s your dad and he loves you. Anyone can see it.” Louis nodded and let himself be pulled in for a comforting cuddle. “Don’t let the breakdown of someone else’s relationship affect yours.”

“This is so stupid,” Louis sniffed, straightening up and wiping away his tears impatiently. “They haven’t even split up yet and I’m crying about it! Sorry about this.” He felt embarrassed, but Mary shook her head and kept a tight grasp on his hand.

“Don’t apologise,” she said firmly. “It’s a difficult thing for anyone, but you have a hell of a lot of other things to deal with on top of it. Of course you’re going to feel a bit overwhelmed.”

“Still, I shouldn’t be crying to you about it!” Louis mumbled, determinedly.

“What are mams for, eh?” she asked with a soft smile. “We know things we shouldn’t and we’re there for a cuddle and chat when you need it.” Louis smiled in spite of himself; she really could make anyone feel better. “Now, taking my mam hat off for a moment – don’t you have a prank you need to organise?”

“Oh yeah,” Louis exclaimed, brightening up instantly. “Thanks, Mare – for everything.”

“Anytime, love,” she smiled, turning back to her book as Louis got up to leave. “And don’t be too hard on Wagner; he’s hard enough to listen to as it is!”

***

Baffled. That was the one word that Louis could think of to describe himself when he ascended the steps of their tour bus to find Harry and Aiden sitting side-by-side, chatting amiably.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry smiled, looking up from the phone screen Aiden was holding out for him to read. “Did you get it?”

“Yeah,” Louis replied, reaching into his pocket for the small glass bottle while still taking in the confusing scene before him. “What are you two up to?”

“Just hanging out,” Harry told him, budging up on the sofa to make room for him. “Aiden came over to see if we’d managed to get the fish sauce yet. The girls couldn’t find his moustache oil on his tour bus, so they’ve gone to search his dressing room.”

“Right,” Louis said slowly as he sat down. “And you two just thought you’d hang out in the meantime?”

“Well, we thought it’d be a good chance to get to know one another better,” Harry frowned at him, his lips pursed, like Louis was the one acting strangely. “We haven’t spent very much time together until now.” Louis shook his head, accepting the odd situation without any more discussion.

There was a clatter at the front of the bus, followed by hushed giggles and the thump of footsteps as Katie, Cher and Bex all blundered excitedly down the gangway towards the boys. Louis was grateful for the interruption to the world’s most awkward encounter, especially as they came bearing gifts.

“We got it!” Cher exclaimed happily. “It was in his dressing room. He’s having a bath so we’ll have to be quick about it.”

“Do you have the stuff?” Katie inquired of Louis furtively.

“It’s fish sauce, love,” Louis laughed. “Not heroin. You don’t have to look so shifty!” The others giggled and Katie gave him the middle finger as she handed the oil to Aiden. Louis passed him his bottle and he proceeded to carefully transfer a healthy glug of the foul-smelling liquid into the half-full bottle of oil.

“Eugh, you weren’t joking about the smell,” Aiden choked out, nose wrinkled in disgust. The girls nodded in agreement, all looking rather queasy. “Right, I’ll get this sneaked back in then. Catch you in a bit.”

“I’ll help,” Harry announced suddenly, standing up. Louis gaped at him as he traipsed after Aiden.

“I didn’t think those two got on so well,” Bex observed, looking mildly surprised.

“No,” Louis agreed, brow furrowed. “Neither did I.”

***

Louis wandered into the dressing room, throwing himself down on the couch and catching Harry’s eye in the reflection in the vanity mirror. He was patiently waiting for Lou to finish up with Cher’s makeup in another room and Louis felt it was a good time to try to make sense of what had happened earlier.

“So, care to explain the new BFF?” Louis questioned teasingly.

“I just thought it was about time I put the past in the past,” Harry said evasively, picking up a bottle of nail polish from the vanity and unscrewing the lid.

“Oh, you’ve had a change of heart, have you?” Louis chuckled, propping his feet up on the table.

“Yeah, I just felt like maybe I was being a bit immature about the whole thing,” Harry shrugged, gently dragging the cork from the neck of the little glass bottle and watching the brightly coloured, viscous liquid drip slowly down the brush. He held the bottle carefully underneath as it dribbled back inside. “I overreacted to what happened between you.”

“That’s really mature, H,” Louis said seriously. “Honestly, it shows real growth from you.” A blush rose in Harry’s cheeks and he kept his eyes determinedly on the nail polish. Louis got up and wandered over to wrap his arms around him, careful not to disrupt his balance. “So proud of you.”

“Well, it’s not really –“ Harry mumbled, dipping the brush back in and repeating the process. “It’s not a big deal.”

“No, it’s a huge deal,” Louis argued, sarcasm becoming more evident now. “And definitely not anything to do with you finding out from the girls that he has a boyfriend now, right?” A grin spread over Louis’ face as he watched Harry’s expression change in the mirror; his discomfort turned to surprise turned to defiance in a matter of seconds.

“No,” he scowled primly, tightening the lid back on the nail polish and setting it down. “I’d already decided I wanted to make up when I found that out actually.” Harry’s haughtiness was always a sure sign that he had been caught out. Louis laughed and pulled him tighter, pressing messy kisses to his cheek.

“So mature and grown up!” Louis teased between wet kisses. “Not in the least bit petty or jealous at all!”

“Get off!” Harry demanded through giggles as he wriggled around in Louis’ grasp. “Fine! I felt bad for being so mean about him once I found out! You’re right! Stop attacking me with kisses!”

“Never!” Louis laughed, but he slowed his movements and loosened his grip regardless. He gazed at Harry in the reflection, his face flushed and eyes sparkling. “Still proud of you, little fibber.” Harry’s face softened and he smiled back at Louis. They broke apart as the door handle rattled and an incensed Wagner stormed in, apparently searching the room for something.

“Where is it?’ he demanded of no one in particular as he looked behind the sofa and inside bags, sniffing exaggeratedly all the while. He looked insane.

“What’s the matter?” Louis asked, in a faux concerned tone. “Have you lost something?”

“The smell,” muttered Wagner frantically as he stalked out of the room again. Louis and Harry looked at one another delightedly and rushed after him, following him into the green room where almost everyone else had congregated. Wagner continued to rush around in a frenzy, sticking his head into cupboards and underneath tables, seemingly at random. “Can’t you all smell it?” He looked around wildly, demanding answers. Matt and Paije looked at one another nonplussed, Mary hovered somewhere between amusement and disapproval while the others held in laughter.

“Are you okay, mate?” Matt asked, genuine concern clouding his features.

“It stinks!” Wagner announced forlornly. “The whole place stinks!”

“I can’t smell anything,” Paije shrugged.

“You Brits are so unobservant,” Wagner said dismissively to the room at large. “No sense of delicacy from you. It’s everywhere! I can smell it!” His eyes darted around the room manically while they all watched him with looks of disbelief – some more convincing than others. “I’m not crazy, you know!” He took in their doubtful expressions and stormed off towards the door.

“Wagner, wait,” Niall said suddenly and Wagner stopped in his tracks, looking at Niall expectantly. “Mary and I aren’t Brits. Carry on.” He waved happily and Wagner exited with a roar of frustration.

Chapter Text

It was hard to believe that they had been on the road for almost two months. Between the almost nightly shows and the travel in between, Louis had never been so exhausted. But somehow, the tiredness did nothing to diminish the joy he felt every time they stepped out on stage. Once the lights went up and the crowd started cheering, adrenaline shot through his body, leaving euphoric waves in its wake. Being on stage was more thrilling than Louis could have ever dreamed, and he couldn’t imagine doing anything other than this for the rest of his life. And being able to share the experience with the other boys just made it all the more exciting. Every night seeing Harry perform felt as good as that opening night and Louis never wanted it to stop; he wanted to see his boy like this all the time.

As the final show approached, they found themselves looking towards how they would be spending their short break at the end of the tour. They had already been informed of the seemingly endless list of interviews, recording sessions and photoshoots that had been scheduled for the summer months, and had been heavily advised to make the most of their free time while they still had the chance – and on Simon’s dime! While Niall and Liam seized the opportunity to return home and spend time with their families and Zayn made plans for an escape to the sun, Louis and Harry decided, without any real consideration, that they would be spending it together.

“Have you ever been skiing?” Harry asked from behind his laptop screen as he sprawled across the sofa of their dressing room.

“Yeah, went with school once,” Louis responded, moving his face as little as possible as Lou added her final touches. “Would you like to go?”

“Dunno,” Harry frowned, scrolling through the package deals on Thomas Cook’s website . “I like the idea of it, but I’m not exactly coordinated, am I?”

“It’s not your strongest point,” Louis conceded, smiling fondly at Harry while Lou began to pack away her things. “But you can have lessons. It’s not hard, once you get the hang of it and I’ll help you practice.”

“Would you?” Harry glanced up, a hopeful expression on his face.

“Course, babe,” Louis assured him, hopping up from his chair and wandering over to the sofa. “And I won’t push you over like I did to Stan!” He chuckled at the memory of his best friend tumbling spectacularly down the snowy slope while their exasperated teacher yelled at a cackling Louis. The slope hadn’t been steep and Stan had been heavily padded by his ski jacket, so Louis couldn’t muster up any genuine remorse, but he’d put his acting skills to good use as he’d apologised profusely to avoid getting into more trouble. Stan had later dared him to streak across the snowy courtyard of their hotel before locking him out of the room, so they’d ended up even.

“Stan could come,” Harry suggested, bringing Louis back from his chilly reverie as he pulled him down onto the sofa beside him. “I’d like to get to know him better.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Louis agreed enthusiastically. “You could invite Jonny, too!” Harry nodded, growing visibly excited at the rapidly forming plan. They waved Lou off as she left for Katie’s dressing room before returning to their conversation. “And let’s face it, they aren’t going to let us go on a holiday alone – much too obvious.” Louis rolled his eyes, reality putting a momentary damper on their excitement.

“Well, this is the perfect compromise,” Harry said firmly. “We’re going on a lads’ holiday with our friends. They can’t possibly object to that!”

“A lads’ holiday?” Louis repeated with a smirk. The idea of Harry taking any part of the debauchery of a typical lads’ holiday was so uncharacteristic that Louis couldn’t help but tease him.

“You know what I mean,” Harry retorted, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t know you were the lads’ holiday type, H,” Louis teased, relieving Harry of his laptop and beginning to tap on the keyboard thoughtfully. “Maybe we should have a look at Magaluf instead. Or Benidorm. I hear Sticky Vicky still puts on quite the laddy show!”

***

Hours later, the finalists of The XFactor 2010 all joined hands as they bowed together for the last time. Louis gripped Zayn and Harry’s hands tightly as roars of approval almost deafened them, causing them to grin uncontrollably. Even through the blinding lights, he could just about make out his mum, Anne and Robin in the South Balcony clapping and whooping wildly as they pulled each other into a group hug. The sight of their elated parents made his heart soar and he squeezed Harry’s hand and nodded his head towards them so he could enjoy the sweet moment too. Harry grinned hugely at the sight, his eyes glistening and a throaty laugh escaping him. It was clear, even from afar, that the three of them were absolutely bursting with pride, and Louis suddenly wanted nothing more than to run to his mum and give her a massive cuddle. But that would have to wait, as fond goodbyes needed to be bade between the people with whom Louis had spent basically all of his time for the last eight months of his life.

Many tears and hugs and promises to keep in touch later, Louis and Harry made their way out of the building and into the private carpark to find their parents. Louis immediately spotted the three of them chatting happily beside Anne’s car and bounded over, enveloping his mum in a hug while Harry did the same.

“I’m so proud of you, Boo,” Jay told him, holding him tightly. “You were amazing!”

“Thanks, Mum,” he mumbled into her shoulder, inhaling her familiar comforting scent deeply and realising just how much he had missed her. Then, he asked the question that’d been on his mind since spotting the three of them during the show. “Mark didn’t come?”

“No, love,” she replied softly, releasing Louis from her embrace. “He offered to stay with the girls so I could come. But he sends his love and I’ve sent them loads of videos. They’re all so proud of you, too.” Louis noticed that she wasn’t quite meeting his eye and his stomach sank; Jay was never very good at hiding things from him.

“Is everything – “ he began in an undertone, hoping Harry, Anne and Robin couldn’t hear.

“Later,” Jay said decisively. “This is your night. Let’s just enjoy it, okay?” Turning to the other three, she pasted on a surprisingly convincing smile and opened her arms to Harry. “Harry, love, it’s so good to see you!” They embraced while Anne gave Louis a quick squeeze and a peck on the cheek, too.

“Right,” Robin announced, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Shall we get going? Our reservation is in fifteen minutes and it’ll take us ten to get there.”

“What reservation?” Louis asked, nonplussed. A quick glance at Harry confirmed that he was equally baffled.

“Well, we thought that you’d be exhausted after performing,” Anne explained with a smile. “So, rather than drive all the way back home tonight, we decided to treat our two stars to a nice meal and a hotel stay.”

“Really?” Harry asked delightedly and the three parents nodded. “Are we allowed to – I mean, do you mind if we, um…”

“Yes, you can stay in the same room,” Anne sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been living together for the past eight months and we’re going to look at flats for you next week, I think it’s a bit late to start laying down rules about sleeping in separate beds!”

“Mum!” Harry exclaimed, apparently affronted. “Can you not?” The other four laughed at his flushing cheeks.

“She’s just teasing, H,” Robin grinned, throwing an arm around Harry. “Let’s get going and you can tell us all about this ski trip, eh? Sounds exciting!” Embarrassment immediately forgotten, they clambered into Anne’s car, both boys jabbering excitedly about their upcoming trip.

Chapter Text

After a few well-earned days of rest at home in Doncaster, Louis took to the road again, this time heading for Manchester Airport. He and Stan were planning to meet Harry and Jonny there before flying to Chambery and transferring to Courchevel to begin their skiing adventure. As he and Stan loaded their bags into the boot, Louis revealed a decision he had come to the night before.

“I’m selling Cheryl,” he told Stan, closing the boot and giving the car a loving pat. “This is her last journey.”

“You can’t sell Chezza!” Stan exclaimed, gesturing towards the small blue Clio in disbelief. “Think of all the memories we’ve made with her!” Louis laughed heartily as he hopped into the driver’s seat and started the ignition.

“I know,” Louis agreed. “But with me moving to London, it doesn’t make sense to keep her. I need something more reliable if I’m going to be driving between there and Donny. Poor Chez just doesn’t have the stamina anymore.”  

“Shush, she’ll hear you!” Stan hissed in faux outrage, petting the dashboard lovingly. “Can’t believe you’re getting rid of the pussy-wagon.” He shook his head sadly as he pulled on his belt and Louis guffawed at his comment.

“I told you not to call her that!” he scolded as they pulled out of the street. “Besides, our Chezza’s not exactly seen much action!”

“That’s not true,” Stan argued. “I got a blowie from Katie Evans in the back seat after we went to the cinema that time.” He smiled wistfully as if caught up in the nostalgia of the memory.

“Yeah, after telling me you just needed to quickly drop her home,” Louis tutted and Stan shrugged, unperturbed. “And I actually meant action involving me, surprisingly.”

“Yeah, I suppose that all makes more sense now,” Stan grinned, punching Louis’ arm playfully. “I thought you just had no game but all this time you just loved cock!” Louis rolled his eyes at Stan’s teasing, but he was actually sort of glad that he’d started making jokes about his sexuality. With Stan, joking around and teasing was how he showed affection, so it meant that he truly had grown comfortable with the idea of Louis not being straight. They never really talked about it in any great depth – they didn’t really have that sort of friendship – so Louis took his joking as his way of saying that he accepted and loved Louis for exactly who he was. He knew that not all of the Donny lads would feel that way, and between that knowledge and the pressure from management to hide his relationship, it felt good to know that his oldest friend had his back.

They reached the airport in plenty of time and set off to find the other pair at Check-In. Though the weather in no way called for it, Louis donned sunglasses and a cap in an attempt to fly under the radar; the last thing he wanted was crowds of fans spotting him and the entire thing descending into chaos. This, of course, gave Stan a free pass for merciless teasing. He mocked Louis relentlessly the entire way from the carpark and through the Departures Hall until Louis was finally able to distract him when he spotted Harry and Jonny standing under an information board, waiting patiently with their bags.

“There they are,” Louis grinned, pointing at the pair and rushing towards them. He was just about the throw his arms around Harry and kiss him when he caught himself. They were in public which meant no touching that could be construed as anything other than friendly. Feeling disappointed, he pulled Harry into an awkward one-armed hug, keeping his bag held tightly in the other.

“You owe me a proper hello later,” Harry murmured into his ear before releasing him.

“Deal,” Louis grinned as he turned to introduce himself to Jonny. “Alright, mate? Heard a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Same here,” Jonny smiled, his friendly nature apparent. Louis could already tell that he was going to like him.

“This is Stan,” Louis told Jonny, gesturing to his friend vaguely and the two exchanged smiles and nods of acknowledgement. “And obviously you two have already met.” He gestured between Harry and Stan.

“To be fair, last time we met I was ignorant to the fact that you two are boning,” Stan said matter-of-factly, a grin plastered on his face. Harry looked dumbfounded while Jonny snorted with laughter. Louis let out a sigh and elbowed Stan in the stomach, giving Harry an apologetic smile.

“Ignore Stanley,” Louis told them. “He has no manners or general social skills. We don’t usually allow him out in public.”

“I’m just acknowledging the elephant in the room!” Stan shrugged, unperturbed and a small smile played on Harry’s lips as he relaxed. “It’s rather large and rainbow coloured.” Louis rolled his eyes again, but it was impossible to be mad at his best friend.

Their airport experience went smoothly, due in no small part to fact that their booking afforded them access to the private VIP lounge and fast-tracked security checks. Louis still hadn’t quite gotten used to this sort of special treatment and he spent most of the time in the lounge waiting to be approached by a member of staff and asked to leave. On one hand, the idea of exclusivity and preferential treatment did make him feel somewhat uncomfortable, like he was playing a role, but on the other hand, it allowed them to avoid repeating the scene at Heathrow Arrival Hall when they had returned from LA a few months earlier. He wanted their holiday together to be as private and stress-free as possible, and he could deal with a little bit of imposter syndrome if it meant that they were able to relax. Besides, the fact that they were enjoying the luxury care of Simon’s wallet made him feel much better about the whole thing!

***

After several hours of intensive lessons and practice, Harry had finally managed to get the hang of gliding his way down the slopes without ending up on his backside. Sure, there were still some tumbles and wobbles along the way but, on the whole, Louis was very proud of his Bambi-legged boyfriend. With the difficult part taken care of, the four of them could now turn their attention to the other staple of a mountain getaway: the Après-ski. As the only remaining underage member of the group, Harry was a little hesitant, but Louis assured him that it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Après-ski is a rich people thing, Haz,” Louis told him, waving a dismissive hand. “The rules don’t apply to them.”

“Are you sure they won’t ask for ID?” Harry fretted, worry creasing his forehead.

“Oh, keep doing that, H!” Stan exclaimed and Harry looked at him perplexed. “The frown lines are making you look older!” He grinned and the others laughed, concern abated.

Dropping their equipment off for safe-keeping, they made their way to La Folie Douce which was, if Stan was to be believed, the place to be – and, judging from the sounds of upbeat music and raucous laughter that reached their ears on their approach, he was right. Louis took in the bustling crowd out on the large balcony and they seemed to be having the time of their life. A modelesque redhead in an ushanka, snow boots and a bikini top danced atop a table, a magnum of champagne in hand. Louis felt cold just looking at her, but apparently the alcohol was keeping her toasty warm as she poured it directly into her mouth, no glass required. Her equally scantily clad friends whooped and cheered, two more clambering onto the tabletop to join in the fun; they knelt either side of her, mouths open wide to catch the Cristal waterfall. Louis glanced over at Stan who was observing the scene with a dazed grin, apparently feeling right at home in this entirely new world.

“How the other half lives, eh?” Louis laughed, nudging him. “Wouldn’t get that sort of waste in Donny!”

“No girls like that in Donny either,” Stan grinned devilishly. “Reckon I’ll stand a chance if I tell them I have a trust fund?”

“I think they’ll figure it out when they see the fifteen quid in your wallet,” Louis teased. “C’mon, let’s find the bar. First round’s on me!”

It didn’t take long for the four of them to settle themselves into their new surroundings. After a few beers, they found themselves sharing a table with the three Cristal girls, joking and laughing as both Stan and Jonny laid on what they called their ‘British charm’, while Louis and Harry looked on in amusement.

“So, what part of France are you all from then?” Jonny asked, pouring another glass of Cristal for the blonde girl next to him. They had quickly discovered, to Stan’s immense relief, that the girls seemed to have an open tab and endless table service, meaning his fifteen quid was safe.

“Giverny,” she responded, her accent deep and seductive. “It’s in Normandy. Et toi?”

“Cheshire,” Jonny told her. “I don’t think you’ll have heard of it.”

“It’s near London, non?” the redhead questioned and he shook his head smiling at the typical question.

“And I’m from Donny,” Stan told them proudly. But the redhead ignored him, instead turning her attention to Harry.

“And what about you, cutie?” she purred, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Are you also from… Donny?” She said it as though it were French, the consonants thick in her throat.

“Erm, no,” Harry replied, seeming surprised at the flirtatious tone. “I’m from Cheshire, too. But I’m moving to London soon.”

“Ah, comme c’est excitant!” she gushed, resting a hand on his arm. “It’s for work?” Louis glared at the perfectly manicured hand, his brow knitted. This girl was confident and clearly used to getting what she wanted.

“Yeah, something like that,” Harry mumbled, shuffling in his seat.

“We’re getting a place together,” Louis informed her, his tone as cold as the mountain air. Although he knew it was a risk, his jealousy took over and he trusted their relative anonymity in France to protect them from Simon’s wrath. “Just the two of us.” Realisation dawned on the girls’ faces and they exchanged brief glances, the redhead in particular looking disappointed. Jonny and Stan exchanged awkward glances and Louis worried that he may have messed up until –

“So, you are here for just a few days?” the brunette girl questioned, changing the subject, much to everyone’s relief.

Clarification made and tension broken, the group fell into easier conversation and they learnt that the three girls were students, on break from University for Easter and determined to make the most of their time off. Louis’ initial impression had been of wild rich kids, indulging in debauchery funded by family money, without boundaries or consequences. But he quickly learned that, while they were undoubtedly wealthy and certainly here to let off some steam, possibly with a little debauchery, they were actually friendly and fun to be around. Louis found that, when she wasn’t flirting with his boyfriend, he got on well with Chloé, her personality and sense of humour as fiery as her hair. Stan seemed besotted by Juliette, the quieter brunette, who studied Photography and usually spent her holidays on her Grandparents’ farm. Jonny was similarly captivated by Margaux who spent summers interning at her father’s winery and thought that Jonny’s accent was adorable.

The seven of them spent the late afternoon dancing and drinking together, growing increasingly loose-limbed and giggly. Between the free-flowing Cristal and the increasing confidence that they were not going to be recognised, Harry was growing more and more blatant in his flirtation, and after several days apart, Louis was finding it impossible to ignore. As they downed yet another messy shot of Sambuca, Louis met Harry’s gaze and watched him bring his liquor-soaked fingers to his mouth and slowly suck the sticky liquid from them, the flash of his tongue and the hollow of his cheeks causing Louis’ stomach to flip. He groaned and closed his eyes briefly, trying to compose himself, but when he opened them, Harry hadn’t looked away and now he was biting his lip. Louis pulled the little temptress close to him and pressed his lips to his ear.

“I know what you’re doing,” Louis accused in a low voice, his hand sprawled across Harry’s lower back, holding him firmly against his body.

“Oh yeah?” Harry breathed, looking coquettishly up at Louis through his eyelashes. “Is it working?” Louis exhaled heavily, a smile playing on his lips. In answer, he pressed his crotch against Harry’s thigh, allowing him to feel his rapidly stiffening length. Harry hummed contentedly. “Feels like it is.”

“Want to get out of here?” Louis asked, eyes burning with lust as they gazed into Harry’s. He wanted him so badly now. Harry nodded eagerly and hurried over the let the other two know that they were heading back. Louis gathered their things and threw the rest of the group a quick wave as he made him way towards the door, grabbing Harry’s hand as he went by and dragging him through the crowds.

Eternally gratefully that Harry had chosen such a nearby chalet for them, the pair rushed home and tumbled through the door clumsily, tearing layers of clothing off themselves and one another desperately. Kicking the door closed with his foot, Louis hoisted a half-naked Harry up and he wrapped his long legs securely around Louis’ waist. Fuelled predominantly by desire rather than strength, Louis stumbled towards their bedroom, mouthing impatiently at Harry’s bare neck and chest as his fingers dug into the meaty flesh of his ass through his boxers. He threw Harry down onto the thick, white duvet none too gently, and tugged off his remaining clothes without preamble while Harry tilted his hips and slid his boxers off, too. Louis crawled up the bed towards his boy, bracketing his hips with his knees and bringing their mouths together hungrily.

How was it still like this? After all this time, all the hours they’d spent like this, it still felt like the very first time. Louis still felt as though molten lava rushed through his veins as their mouths touched; his body trembled and shivered as Harry’s fingertips explored his exposed skin; all of his senses seemed simultaneously heightened and muted as he drowned in Harry, Harry, Harry. Surely this should have diminished by now – this overwhelming feeling and desire. But it hadn’t. Every time they kissed, they touched, they explored one another’s bodies, Louis was as affected as he had been that night in Marbella. If anything, the magnetism between them, the addiction to one another and how it felt had only grown stronger over time and Louis couldn’t imagine anything else ever feeling this good.

He surrendered himself to that feeling now, sliding behind Harry and clutching him tight against him, his left bicep cradled under him and forearm secured across his chest. Harry’s creamy skin was hot and silken to Louis’ touch as he trailed his right hand down his stomach. Harry reached back, his fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of Louis’ neck, pressing them impossibly closer, and Louis began to loosely pump his leaking cock. Harry’s breathy, excited pants quickly became groaning exhales of pleasure at the friction and Louis moved his free hand up to push Harry’s head back exposing his neck.

“Who’s my boy?” he growled into his ear possessively.

“I am,” Harry rasped out between desperate panting moans. “I am.”

Louis released him and brought his palm to his mouth, licking it wetly before grasping Harry’s cock again. The warm wetness was all it took; Harry’s breathy pants quickened and turning into staccato moans, his muscles tensed and his hand tightened in Louis’ hair, and he was coming all over Louis’ hand and his own stomach. Louis moved his hand down to Harry’s mouth, muffling his cries as he looked down to watch Harry’s warm, thick cum shoot from his pulsating cock. He worked him through it, his own breath coming in laboured pants now, too, betraying his arousal. As Harry came down, Louis pressed kisses to his neck, uncovering his mouth and instead cupping his jaw tenderly.

“Fuck,” Harry murmured, dropping his arm and turning to cuddle into Louis’ chest. “That felt amazing.” Louis smiled into the crown of coffee curls and held him close. His own neglected cock throbbed, but he tried to ignore it, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Missed you those few days, Hazza,” he murmured softly. “Missed this.”

“Me, too,” Harry replied, voice muffled against Louis’s neck. “Missed your hands.” Louis let out a soft chuckle.

“Missed yours,” he returned. “And your mouth.”.

“Oh yeah?” Harry questioned as he looked up, a coy smile on his lips.

“Always,” Louis confirmed solemnly. “You know how I feel about that mouth.” A light blush of pleasure pinkened Harry’s lovely cheeks; he still glowed at Louis’ praise though he had been lavished with it for months now. “It’s my weakness.”

And, eager to please as he always was, Harry extricated himself from Louis’ arms and filled his beautiful mouth with Louis’ waiting cock.

Chapter Text

After a glorious few days of skiing – and thrilling nights of continuing to make up for their time apart – Louis found himself faced with a distinctly less enjoyable task: a sit-down with his parents to discuss their impending separation. Louis had known that the talk was coming for some time now, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it. He supposed it wasn’t really something you could ever prepare for, regardless of how expected it might be.

Having sent the girls off to their grandparents’, Jay asked Louis to join her and Mark for a cup of tea and the three of them settled down at the kitchen table, discomfort thick in the air. Louis looked from one sad and drawn face to the other; the twin pillars that supported him through everything.

“So, you know that we’ve been wanting to have a chat with you for a while now,” Jay began, her voice already slightly tremulous with emotion. Louis nodded, dropping his gaze to the warm cup he was cradling. “We’ve thought and spoken about it a lot and we both feel that it’s better for everyone if we separate. Neither of us have been happy for a long time, not properly, and we don’t want that to carry on. We don’t want to end up hating one another.”

Louis nodded again to show that he understood, but still couldn’t find the right words to say.

“We don’t want the girls growing up in a house with two unhappy parents,” Mark continued. “And we don’t want that for ourselves either.” Louis could feel both pairs of eyes on him, waiting for a response. He cleared his throat and took a sip of tea while he tried to organise his thoughts.

“I just want you both to be happy,” he told them with a small shrug. “It would be great if that could be together, but there’s no point staying together just for the sake of it. You’re right, it’s not fair on the girls.” He looked up at their relieved expressions and built the courage to say what he’d been dreading. “I know things have been a lot harder since I’ve been gone. Do you think that might be part of the reason you’ve made the decision now?” As much as he wanted to know for sure, he was terrified of the answer. He couldn’t deal with the guilt of contributing to their separation.

“Absolutely not,” Mark stated bluntly. “You have no blame in this whatsoever, son.”

“Boo, we probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for you,” Jay added gently.

“Really?” Louis mumbled, salty drops threatening to spill over.

“Definitely,” Mark agreed. “But even you can’t fix everything. Relationships are bloody hard work and you have to know when to call it a day before people get hurt.” Louis could understand that; his own relationship wasn’t plain sailing either, Simon and the others saw to that! But would it ever be enough to make him want to leave Harry? He couldn’t imagine it.

“So, what’ll happen now?” Louis asked.

“Well, I’m sorting a flat at the minute,” Mark explained. “I’ve found one close to twins’ school actually, so that’d be perfect. It’s nothing special, but it’s got a couple of bedrooms for the girls to stay over when I get sorted.” He paused and caught Louis’ eye, looking hesitant. “And you’re always welcome, too.”

“Really?” Louis asked hopefully. They were dancing around the part he’d been dreading.

“I don’t want us to grow apart,” Mark said, uncharacteristically tearful. “I’ve always considered you as much mine as the girls are and that won’t change.” Louis felt his throat grow thick. “I know you’re an adult now and you don’t need me the way you did when your mum and I first got together, but I’m still here when you do.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Louis whispered hoarsely and Mark gave him a smile.

“We thought we’d tell the girls this weekend, give them time to process it,” Jay told him and Mark nodded along. “So, when we get back from flat-hunting in London, we could all sit down together. Do you want to be there for it?”

“Not really,” Louis admitted. “I hate seeing them upset. Maybe I could take the older two out while you explain to the twins or something?”

“Yeah, that’d be a nice distraction for them,” Mark said thoughtfully. “Take them out for a burger or something.” Louis and Jay nodded in agreement. The trio sat in silence for a moment, sipping their tea and lost in their own thoughts. It struck Louis that it might be the last time they did this together, but he was surprised that it didn’t make him as sad as he’d expected. A period of huge change was undoubtedly coming for them all, but if the last year had taught him anything, it was that change could bring wonderful things.

***

Thursday dawned bright and cool, a real feeling of spring in the air. Louis woke uncharacteristically early and got ready for the day with butterflies dancing in his stomach. Searching for your first flat was exciting enough, but searching for a flat with Harry was beyond exhilarating and he felt almost giddy with it. He had been dreaming about them having their own place for months and it was finally happening. There was just one tiny little hiccup.

“Does Simon know you’re planning to live together?” Jay asked as they made their way down the M50.

“Nope,” Louis replied, not looking up from his phone.

“And he’s going to be the one paying for it?” she continued.

“Yep,” he responded tonelessly.

“Do you perhaps see a small issue here?” Jay chuckled.

“I have a plan,” he told her smugly. “Harry’s 17, so he legally can’t live on his own. He needs someone over 18 to live with – ”

“Which you conveniently happen to be,” she finished for him

“Exactly!” Louis grinned.

“And none of the other lads are 18 yet?” she queried.

“Well, Zayn is,” he shrugged. “But hopefully Simon won’t be enough of a dick to actually force him to live with Z rather than me.”

“Are we talking about the same Simon?” Jay asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow and Louis laughed.

“Okay, he definitely is that much of a dick,” he agreed. “But even if he does, Z and I will just swap, so he’s wasting his time.”

“My son, the rulebreaker,” Jay chuckled, rolling her eyes, but Louis thought he could sense a distinct glow of pride beneath her sarcasm.

The first flat they looked at was too big. The second was too small. Louis began to get his hopes up for a Goldilocks type of situation as they inspected the third one, but it was not to be. Harry Styles was officially the world’s pickiest co-habitant.

“What’s wrong with this one, H?” Louis asked him as Harry frowned at the kitchen that had apparently mortally offended him.

“It just doesn’t feel like home,” Harry sighed disappointedly.

“That’s because we don’t live here,” Louis pointed out. He felt it was a fair point, but Harry gave him a withering look.

“I mean I don’t feel connected to it,” he explained patiently. “I think I’ll just know when we find ours, y’know?” Louis glanced at his mum, Anne and Gemma, expecting them to look similarly puzzled at Harry’s ramblings, but they all appeared to be in agreement with him, nodding sagely at his comment like it wasn’t completely mad. After spending the last two months living on buses with multiple other people, Louis personally felt that they could happily live in a treehouse as long as they had some privacy; apparently Harry didn’t share that sentiment.

“Well, this is the last one we have to show you today,” the estate agent told them, rifling through the paperwork he was clutching. “But I have your details if anything else matching your specifications comes up, so I can keep you informed and we can set up more viewings.” They all thanked him for his time as he showed them out of the flat and onto the busy street.

“Do you think you’re maybe being a bit picky?” Louis suggested gently as they set off in the direction of the hotel.

“No,” Harry responded shortly and Louis snorted. “It’s our first home, Lou. It has to be right, no matter how many viewings it takes.” Louis’ smile immediately softened.

“You’re absolutely right, Haz,” he offered, brushing their hands together softly as they walked. “It’s not just a flat; it’s our home.”

Exhausted from their day of flat-hunting, the five of them opted for a quiet dinner at the hotel restaurant that evening. As usual, the mums were nattering away as though they’d known one another for years and Gemma was filling them all in on how university was going. It all felt so relaxed, so normal, and that was something Louis hadn’t realised he had been craving so much. Everything had been moving at lightning speed since the summer and Louis hadn’t been able to stop and absorb how crazy it had all been. But now, sitting with the other four, taking in their comfortable conversation and easy laughter, he appreciated how lucky they were. Maybe it was partially to do with the domesticity of flat-hunting, but they already felt like a family and it made Louis’ chest glow with warm contentedness. It also helped to loosen the little knot of anxiety that had pulled tighter since his conversation with his parents. In spite of their reassurances, he couldn’t help but worry about what their separation would mean for them as a family unit. He’d watched his friends’ parents go through nasty divorces filled with anger and venom, blame batted back and forth, invisible lines of ‘her side’ and ‘his side’ drawn up and unspoken expectations and disappointments at every holiday and birthday. Divorce was an awful thing that brought out the worst in people and left them with the tattered remains of a family. But now, as he felt cocooned in the familial safety of the people around him, those frightening notions began to fade away. Things would change – of course they would – but that didn’t mean they would be destroyed. Family could change and grow, but it couldn’t be broken, not if they didn’t let it become so. He thought of Anne and Robin then, of the love they had for one another, soft and quiet and constant; maybe his mum could find that love with someone else and maybe Mark could, too. They both deserved a love that looked like that and now they’d be free to find it, even if it wasn’t with one another. And he considered how Robin loved Harry and Gemma, too; he knew how much Harry looked up to him, how much he respected him and considered him a role-model. That didn’t diminish the love or respect he had for Des, nor did it detract from their bond or their memories together. Love wasn’t a finite resource, Louis realised; it wasn’t something you could only give and receive sparingly. So, between Tomlinsons, Styles and Twists, he felt confident that his family was only going to grow stronger and more beautiful in the years to come.

After dinner, the mums decided to head off to bed while Louis, Harry and Gemma remained at the hotel bar for a nightcap. The excitement of the day hadn’t quite worn off and tiredness hadn’t hit them yet, so they chattered easily about the flats they’d seen and their hopes of moving within a couple of months. As it had been all day, the atmosphere was light and easy, so when Harry excused himself to go to the bathroom and Louis found himself alone and face-to-face with a suddenly very serious Gemma, he was surprised at how the mood changed. Her easy smile and relaxed demeanour were replaced with an altogether more rigid and unyielding stance. She tapped the side of her glass, her nail clinking out a short beat while Louis searched around for something to say. She beat him to it.

“So, moving in together; that’s a big step.”

She was going to get right to it then. Louis had expected that the conversation would crop up sooner or later and was prepared for the protective big sibling talk – god knows he would do the same when the girls started dating – but he hadn’t expected Gemma to be so blunt. He thought that they would at least observe some niceties in the build-up, but she apparently wasn’t one for beating things around the bush! And despite her slender build and dimpled smile so like her brother’s, Gemma was actually pretty intimidating right at that moment.

“Erm, yeah, it’s definitely not something I expected to do at 19,” Louis admitted, deciding that honesty was the best policy. She looked like she would sniff out any lies immediately. “But I’m really excited about it. We both are.”

“Do you think you’re both ready for it?” Gemma questioned, an eyebrow raised doubtfully. “He’s barely 17.”

“I know,” Louis assured her. “But Harry’s the most responsible teenager in existence! Having his own place and being all domestic is like his fantasy.” Louis chuckled, hoping to thaw the atmosphere; Gemma didn’t smile.

“Exactly,” she replied stonily. “A fantasy. He’s throwing himself into this with everything he has. How do I know you’re as invested?”

“I am,” Louis told her resolutely. “I’m all in with Harry, with our relationship, and I –”

“Didn’t you have a girlfriend when you two met?” Gemma interrupted.

“What?” Louis spluttered, surprised by the directness of her question. “I mean, yeah, I did, but –“

“And were you ‘all in’ with her?” she pressed, seemingly unperturbed by Louis’ clear discomfort.

“That was very different,” Louis retorted, exhaling heavily as he tried to regain his composure. “We were young and –“

“Younger than Harry is now?” Fuck. He was talking himself into a corner and he needed to find a way out, to make her see the truth.

“Look, Gemma,” he began, looking her dead in the eye, hoping to convey his honesty. “I know I fucked up at the beginning and I wish it had been different, I really do. But none of it was out of malice or lack of care; it was the opposite. I’ve been in love with your brother from pretty much the moment I met him and, whether it’s been clear to you or not, everything I’ve done since then has been to try to make him happy. He is the single most important thing in the world to me and that isn’t going to change.” The words spilled out in a rush and Louis had barely drawn breath.

“Harry trusts people, sometimes too much,” Gemma’s tone remained stony, but her expression had begun to soften. “There are going to be so many people trying to take something from him and I need to know that there is someone there to protect him. Someone who’ll always be on his side.”

“He’s everything to me,” Louis said plainly, without a hint of embarrassment. “I’ll take care of him for as long as he lets me.” Gemma’s mouth lifted into a small smile and Louis knew he’d managed to get through to her.

“He seems happy with you,” she offered, nudging his foot with her toe. “I suppose that counts for something.”

“I suppose it does,” Louis smiled, relaxing a little and taking a sip from his glass. “For the record, I’m looking forward to it just as much as he is. I can’t wait to live with him.”

“God, my little brother is moving in with his boyfriend before me,” she laughed, shaking her head. “How’d that happen?”

“Well, we’re not exactly a normal couple,” Louis shrugged. “It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind.”

“Just keep him safe, okay?” Gemma said softly, reaching out a hand to Louis.

“Promise,” Louis replied, squeezing her hand tightly.

***

The following morning, Louis was woken early by his ringing phone. Groggy with sleep, he answered with a mumbled greeting and was met with the brisk voice of Simon Cowell, which had roughly the same effect as a bucketful of freezing water being dumped over him.

“Good morning, Louis,” Simon began as Louis scrambled upright and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Listen, I’ve arranged another viewing for you for this morning. Some flats have become available in a complex in North London; it’s very nice, private, secure and it has its own pool, gym and tennis courts. They’re not technically available just yet, but a developer friend got in touch this morning to give me a heads up about them. Can you be there in an hour?”

“Um, I think so,” Louis stammered, trying to take in all of the information. “What’s the address?”

“I’ll send you the details when we hang up,” he replied. “ Now I know you’ve looked at other places but ideally I would like all five of you to get a flat in this complex; it’s much easier than having you scattered across London. I’ve already spoken to Liam and Zayn about it and I’ll give Niall and Harry a call when we get off the line.”

“I can speak to Harry actually,” Louis told him, looking down at the slumbering figure curled up beside him. “He’s here with me.” Simon paused for a long moment and Louis felt the panic begin to rise in his chest.

“Right,” Simon said finally, his voice cold but calm. “Well, you let him know then. I’ll be in touch this afternoon to see what you think of it.”

“Well, since you’re paying for it, I’m guessing what I think about it isn’t exactly top priority,” Louis said, keeping his tone light although he was completely serious.

“You know, Louis,” Simon replied, amusement evident in his tone. “I think you’re finally starting to understand how things work. Speak to you later.” The line went dead.

After much frantic rushing around, they arrived at the black, wrought iron gates of Princess Park Manor with minutes to spare. The large, smooth driveway was lined with beautiful, leafy trees and manicured gardens. It led them to the towering building of buttery bricks, huge arched windows and an exquisite glass dome that sat between two bell towers. Louis didn’t know what he had expected after his call with Simon; perhaps he had begun to associate Simon’s eagerness for anything with his own displeasure, but Princess Park appeared to be a total exception to this rule.

As they stepped out of the car, they were greeted by a smiling woman in a pristine charcoal suit who introduced herself as Jessica. As she led them down the covered walkway towards the show flat, she told them about the building and confirmed some details with them.

“So, the flats are typically two-bedroom, spread over two floors with minor differences in layout depending on which part of the building it is,” she reeled off, the click of her expensive heels echoing loudly as she strode confidently ahead of them. “We currently have six flats available, but they will go quickly – it’s an extremely sought-after development, as I’m sure you can imagine.” They came to a halt and Jessica unlocked the door in front of them, gesturing for them to go in ahead of her. The five of them shuffled in and looked around the bright, airy and spacious reception of the show flat. “Our residents enjoy total privacy and safety as we are a gated community with our own 24 hour security. Several of our current residents are also in the public eye, so we find that it is a very important aspect for them.” As she rambled on about privacy, it became clearer to Louis why Simon seemed so intent upon this particular complex and he suspected it was less to do with safety and more to do with secrecy. Here, they – and particularly he and Harry – would be away from the prying eyes of paparazzi and fans. Fewer opportunities to be seen together meant fewer excuses to be made and fewer messes for Simon to clean up, as he would undoubtedly see it. On one hand, Louis resented that Simon was trying to control yet another part of their lives; on the other hand, they were bloody nice flats and he had to admit, some guaranteed privacy would be pretty welcome.

After a walk-through of the flat, Jessica locked up and began to escort them back to their car. As they walked, she pointed out the six flats that would be available along the walkway.

“What about that one?” Louis asked, gesturing towards the door she had skipped over. “Is it not available?”

“Oh, that’s The Dome,” Jessica said enigmatically. “It’s a slightly – pricier option.”

“Can we see it?” Harry asked excitedly and Jessica nodded her assent. She unlocked the door and led them through to the entrance hall which had a lift on one side and a stairwell on the other.

“It has a lift?” Gemma blurted out.

“Yes, it’s set over six levels,” Jessica explained. “There are two ensuite bedrooms here on the ground floor, the Master Suite extends over the next two, followed by the kitchen and dining area, then the living area and, finally, the cinema room on the top floor.” Five mouths dropped open as she spoke. “Where would you like to start?”

“The kitchen,” Harry suggested immediately, excitement dancing in his eyes. Jessica nodded and they piled into the lift.

As the doors slid back to reveal the circular room lined with shiny quartz counters that sparkled in the sunlight streaming in from no fewer than six huge windows, Louis could tell that Harry had already fallen in love. He watched him wander over to the window closest and take in the spectacular view with a dazed look on his face. As Jessica continued her spiel about integrated appliances, Louis joined Harry to take in the sights.

“Lou, it’s perfect,” Harry breathed. “You can see everything from up here. Imagine having people over for dinner or a Christmas party. It would be amazing!” Louis could already see the plans forming in Harry’s mind and he wanted so badly to make them happen for him.

The rest of the flat was equally incredible. Louis’ favourite was the cinema room on the top floor. The room was within the doom itself and the ceiling vaulted into a high point from which a glittering chandelier hung. The curved walls of exposed red-brick brought an industrial feel and the huge projector screen made him feel as though he were in an actual cinema. It was the coolest room Louis had ever seen and he thought it wouldn’t look out of place on an episode of Cribs.

“Now we just need to find a way to convince Simon that us sharing The Dome makes more sense than paying for two separate flats,” Louis said, thinking that it was probably a lot easier said than done.

Chapter Text

The high of potentially moving into the perfect home with Harry stayed with Louis all the way back to Doncaster as he found himself daydreaming about all the things they’d do to make it theirs. Harry was sending him link after link of furniture, artwork, rugs, tables, glasses and anything and everything in between. He excitedly told Louis that he was creating something called a Pinterest board for each room and that he’d send them to him soon for his opinion. Although Louis largely had no idea what Harry was on about, he remained appropriately excited and agreeable regardless. He loved more than anything seeing Harry so excited and he was determined to find a way to get Simon to agree to them living together at The Dome. However, his plans became infinitely more complicated by a conversation with Hannah two days after his return home. She came over as usual for a cuppa and a chat, but Louis could tell there was something more on her mind.

“You’re very quiet today,” Louis hinted as they lounged on the sofa, mugs clutched in hands. “I usually can’t get a word in edgeways!” Hannah gave a small smile and shrugged awkwardly.

“Well, there is something I want to talk to you about,” she began hesitantly and Louis smiled encouragingly, trying to make her feel more at ease. The discomfort between them was unusual and he was starting to feel nervous. “So, obviously the contract with your management is coming to an end next month and we’ll have to decide whether to extend it or not.” Louis nodded to show he was with her so far, dreading what he knew would come next. “And, well – I don’t think I can.” She trailed off, looking guiltily at Louis.

“That’s okay, love,” he smiled at her, wanting to alleviate the obvious guilt she was feeling. “It was never going to be a permanent fix. I’m just grateful that you chose to do it for this long.”

“Really? You’re not annoyed?” Hannah asked, looking up at him with relief already spreading across her face.

“Course not,” Louis replied easily, though it was only a half-truth. “Can I ask why, though?”

“It’s just gotten so complicated,” Hannah sighed, shaking her head. “Things with James are getting more serious, so that’s definitely a factor, but it’s more George that’s causing the issue.”

“Your brother?” Louis asked confusedly. “What’s he got to do with it?”

“He’s – well, he’s suspicious, I suppose,” Hannah started carefully. “He’s made a few comments about you and Harry. It started out kind of a joke but he’s getting quite nasty about it now.”

“You think he knows the truth?” Louis asked, panic rising in his throat.

“Not exactly,” she replied. “He believes we’re together but I think he might suspect that something has happened with you two.”

“So he thinks I’m cheating on you?” Louis grimaced and Hannah nodded uncomfortably.

“He’s tried to talk to me about it a couple of times,” she told him. “Pretty much telling me to be careful and that he doesn’t want to see me being hurt, and I’ve just brushed him off, but his friends are riling him up about it. You know what they’re like.” Louis did know what George’s group of friends were like. Despite his affection for Hannah, Louis had never particularly liked George and privately thought he and his mates were absolutely bellends most of the time; typical chavvy lads with big mouths and small minds. Not that he would ever say that to her.

“Well, that’s that then,” Louis sighed. “Good while it lasted, eh?” Hannah smiled dolefully at him and shuffled closer to cuddle him.

“I just don’t want it to end up badly,” she murmured into his chest and he nodded, squeezing her close.

“Shall we write the resignation email together?” Louis suggested.

“Yes, please,” Hannah’s muffled voice came from below.

***

As expected, Louis got a call to arrange a meeting with Simon and Modest! almost immediately. He was summoned to their offices in London the following Friday morning and, presuming he had received similar instructions, he immediately rang Harry.

“So, back to the big smoke then?” Louis asked, tone light. Although he knew that it probably wouldn’t be a particularly enjoyable meeting, he didn’t want Harry to worry more than he had to. “What day do you want to head down?”

“Well actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Harry said, catching Louis’ attention. “Do you remember Ed Sheeran? We met him with Olly at a couple of XFactor parties. Ginger guy? Really nice?”

“Oh yeah,” Louis said, recalling the friendly face immediately. “What about him?”

“So, he text me wondering if we maybe wanted to do some writing with him sometime,” Harry explained. “He’s staying with a friend of his in London at the minute and said we’d be welcome to join them and maybe see what we can come up with for the album.”

“That’s so cool, H,” Louis enthused. “He’s written some stuff for Olly before, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah, on his last album, I think,” Harry agreed. “So what do you think? Fancy couch surfing and jamming like the rockstars we are?”

“Beats paying for a hotel,” Louis laughed. “You sure he won’t mind both of us being there?”

“Nah, he seemed really up for it,” Harry replied. “Especially when I mentioned that you like writing.”

“Ah, Haz,” Louis sighed. “Don’t tell people that! I don’t want him to think I’m better than I am, especially when he actually knows what he’s doing!”

“Louis, shut up,” Harry berated imperiously. “Your writing is great. Stop being all humble.”

“You’ve seen like three things I’ve written, H,” Louis chuckled. “I don’t think you can make claims like that. Anyway, that sounds cool. I’d love to spend more time with Ed, he seems like a great bloke. Whose house would we be staying at?”

“Chris Leonard,” Harry supplied vaguely. “He’s a guitarist who Ed works with a lot apparently.”

“And he’s fine with homeless teenagers invading his house?” he laughed.

“Apparently so!” Harry replied easily. “I was thinking of maybe going down on Tuesday or Wednesday.”

“Well, I promised to spend some more time with the girls this week,” Louis explained. “But I could come down on Thursday evening and maybe stay for the weekend.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Harry enthused and they spent another twenty minutes catching up on their various plans for the week. Louis gushed about his imminent trip to the Porsche dealership with Jay to make his first big purchase – a black Boxster. Having sold his little blue Clio, he reasoned that he needed a reliable car if he was to travel up and down to London often. Besides, he had been pining after one particular model for months and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his hard-earned music biz cash. It made him feel like a proper grown up and he couldn’t wait to show it off to Harry soon. Plans made and  lots of ‘I miss you’s later, the pair hung up and, as he always did after talking to Harry, Louis felt better about the imminent meeting management.

Thursday rolled around quickly and Louis excitedly made his way to the Hackney address Harry had sent him. Pulling up to a modest building, he was grateful to spot some street parking nearby for him to snag. He paralleled parked with impressive ease (why did that only happen when no one was there to see it?) and gave his shiny black Boxster a loving pat before heading for the front door and ringing the bell. Harry’s smiling face appeared almost immediately and he pulled Louis into a tight cuddle, nuzzling his face into his neck and inhaling deeply.

“Hi you,” Harry breathed softly, his arms tight around Louis’ shoulders as Louis dropped his bag and encircled his waist.

“Hey gorgeous,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss into Harry’s curls and smiling contentedly. “You miss me?”

“So much,” Harry sighed, loosening his hold and bending to pick up Louis’ bag for him. “Glad you’re finally here. Come meet the others.” He beckoned Louis into a cosy living room where two men lounged on a comfortable sofa. “You remember Ed.” Harry motioned towards the redhead in baggy jeans and an Avengers t-shirt, who got up and pulled Louis into a hug. “And this is Chris.” He gestured to another man, who smiled and shook Louis’ hand, slightly more reserved than Ed. “Whose hospitality we’re all taking serious advantage of.” Louis smiled and thanked Chris who waved him off as though it was nothing before returning to the joint he was smoking.

“So glad to have you here, man,” Ed enthused, throwing himself back down on the sofa. “Haz tells me you like to write.”

“A bit,” Louis offered, feeling embarrassed. “I’m not like a proper songwriter or anything.”

“I’d love to hear your stuff,” Ed continued, unperturbed by Louis’ hesitancy. “I’m sure it’s great.” Louis could already tell that he would like Ed. He was so relaxed and friendly, he felt immediately drawn to him.

“Ed had very kindly offered to sleep on the sofa so we can have the spare room,” Harry told him with a smile. Louis felt himself freeze, the implications of a shared room heavy around him, but Harry seemed unfazed, as did the other two. “You want to drop your stuff up now?”

“Um, sure,” Louis nodded and followed Harry up the stairs. When they reached the bedroom and closed the door, Harry immediately pulled Louis in for a kiss, but Louis pressed his hands gently against his chest to stop him. “Wait, Haz. Are they – do they know about us?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied with a frown. “Does it matter?”

“They didn’t find it weird,” Louis questioned. “Us sharing a bed?” Harry shrugged and sat down on the edge of said bed, gazing at Louis questioningly. “Did you tell them we’re together?”

“No, I didn’t,” Harry said slowly. “Would it be a problem if I had?”

“I dunno, Haz,” Louis replied. “We’re meant to be meeting with Simon and everyone tomorrow to talk about how to keep us a secret, so it feels a bit weird that we’re not hiding it from them.”

“I don’t think they care, Lou,” Harry retorted. “They’re nice guys.”

“No, I’m sure they are,” Louis said quickly. “I just don’t want to get us into trouble.”

“I’m not going to just lie, Louis,” Harry said hotly, crossing his arms.

“We might have to, babe,” Louis replied gently, moving to sit next to Harry and taking his hand. “I know it’s horrible but now that we don’t have Hannah, we might not be able to just skirt around it anymore.”

“What do you think they’ll say to us tomorrow?” Harry asked, his voice small and frightened.

“I honestly don’t know, babe,” Louis sighed. “I know they tried to set Cher up with footballers and rappers, so maybe something similar.”

“I don’t want to lie,” Harry whispered tearfully. “I don’t want to pretend I’m with someone else.”

“I know, love,” Louis said, pulling him close and pressing a kiss into his hair. “But we knew this was coming. Let’s just see what they say, okay?” Harry nodded against his shoulder.

“I’m not lying to Ed and Chris though,” Harry mumbled. “I don’t care what they want to tell the public, but I’m not lying to people I know.”

“Okay, darling,” Louis murmured softly. “Whatever you want.”

***

The meeting began with the usual discomfort and frostiness. For five whole minutes, while Louis and Harry sat silently, exchanging worried glances, Harry Magee, Richard Griffiths and Simon Cowell pored over lengthy documents pointing out various segments to one another and making comments in an undertone so that neither of the younger men could hear. Eventually, Richard broke the silence.

“So, Miss Walker’s contract has come to an end, meaning we have some choices to make,” he started, a humourless smile spread across his features. “It’s unfortunate that the agreement has ended so soon, but such is the business. Now, I believe Simon has spoken to you about PR relationships?” Louis only shrugged noncommittally, but Harry spoke.

“Fake relationships, you mean?” he asked boldly and Richard raised an eyebrow.

“In the sense that they are organised by us and are mutually beneficial for both, I suppose,” he retorted acerbically. “Now, Louis you have already been presented as a ‘long-term boyfriend’ type so we feel that it would be best to carry on that image. Are you amenable to that?”

“I suppose so,” Louis mumbled quietly.

“So we’ll have to seed the breakup with Hannah within the next month or so,” Richard continued, rhyming off the plan like a well-rehearsed script. Louis wondered how many times he had had this exact conversation with other people; how many relationships did he control? “According to our Social Media team, your interactions with her have been minimal anyway which actually makes it easier. We can organise for you to be photographed on nights out over the next few weeks, creating the idea of the two of you having drifted apart, separate lives, etc, etc.” He waved a dismissive hand and Louis felt a wave of disgust wash over him. He talked about them as though they were characters in a story rather than real people. “For Harry, the media seem quite taken with him as a heart-throb anyway so I suspect there will likely be stories without our input. We can just let them run for now.” He glanced around at Simon and Harry for input and they both nodded in agreement.

“So, that’s really it for the time being,” Simon concluded, his eyes shifting between Louis and Harry. “Neither of you need to do anything as such.”

“Wait,” Louis blurted out, sensing that his opportunity for bargaining was slipping away. “I have a condition. For the PR relationship thing. There’s something I want.” The three men exchanged amused glances before turning back to Louis and nodding at him to continue. “Harry and I want to live together at Princess Park. In The Dome. It’s less expensive than two separate flats and, besides, Harry isn’t old enough to live by himself. And it’s private, you said so yourself.” Three pairs of eyes inspected Louis closely and he felt his face grow hot.

“You want the penthouse of an exclusive complex?” Simon asked, a condescending smile on his face.

“Yes,” Louis retorted boldly. “That’s my condition.” They exchanged a glance and Harry Magee gave a small nod.

“Fine,” he said. “You have a deal.”

***

Louis and Harry returned to Chris’ house in a state of giggly euphoria. They couldn’t believe that they were allowed to move into their dream house together and the urge to celebrate wildly took over.

“You two look happy!” Ed exclaimed as he answered the front door to the grinning pair.

“More than,” Harry told him, depositing the Sainsbury’s bag full of bottles of spirits on the coffee table. “Very, very successful meeting and we feel like celebrating!”

“Excellent!” Chris enthused, heading into the kitchen to grab glasses and a bag of ice-cubes. “I haven’t had a proper celebration in ages!” He began to pour generous measures of rum into each glass while Louis topped them up with Coke and Ed popped in some ice. Each with a drink in hand, they raised their glasses.

“To negotiation!” Louis announced and the others joined in, though only Harry had any idea what he meant.

Several hours and countless drinks later, the four found themselves sprawled out on the floor of the living room, Ed strumming on his guitar while they chatted happily and passed around a spliff. Louis felt content as Harry’s head lay in his lap and he played with his curls. Harry was like a kitten when he was stoned, sleepily chasing soft scratches.

“You two are so fucking cute,” Ed exclaimed, a grin lighting his features as he took a pull of the spliff and inhaled deeply. “Look how happy he looks!” He nodded at Harry whose eyes were closed in bliss.

“Shush!” Chris slurred, swatting Ed’s arm clumsily. “We don’t even know if…” He trailed off, looking confused but giggling to himself.

“Oh, come on!” Ed laughed. “Look at them!”

“What?” Louis demanded, his brain foggy and unfocused. He had a vague sense that they were discussing something dangerous but he couldn’t quite figure out why in the softened and blurred edges of his current reality.  

“You two,” Ed grinned, pointing a finger between Louis and Harry. “You’re in love, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed softly and Louis giggled.

“See!” Ed exclaimed triumphantly. “I knew it!” He began to strum on his guitar again, softly singing the chorus of Love Story by Taylor Swift to himself.

“S’a secret though,” Harry continued, eyes still closed. “Because of the band.”  Chris looked horrified, his hand pressed to his mouth.

“That’s not fair,” he said firmly, his eyes sad. “Who says you can’t be in love?”

“Simon,” Harry piped up, a pout forming on his lips. “But he’s letting us live together.”

“So you can live together but not come out?” Ed asked, confusion clouding his features.

“Pretty much,” Louis shrugged. “He thinks we won’t make any money if we’re gay.”

“That’s bullshit!” Ed exclaimed angrily and the other three made sounds of vehement agreement. “I can’t believe he’s trying to hide your relationship like that. Y’know what, fuck him. I’m gonna write a song about you and it’ll tell your story whether he likes it or not!” Ed scrambled up and grabbed his notepad and pencil from the table, determination written on his unfocused expression. “Right, Haz – what do you love about your Louis?”

“Loads of stuff,” Harry smiled dreamily. “When he really smiles, his eyes get all crinkly and sparkly and it’s so beautiful.” Louis felt his cheeks glow and his dipped his head to press a kiss to Harry’s lips. “And he has these perfect little dimples at the bottom of his back that I love.”

“Haz, stop,” Louis whined, even though he in no way meant it.

“Oh and the way his arse and thighs look in skinny jeans,” Harry continued with a cackle. “Like they’ve been fucking painted on! Obscene!” The other two broke into raucous laughter and Louis really did go bright red as he clamped a hand over Harry’s mouth to stop him.

“Please don’t write about my arse squeezing into jeans,” Louis scowled, shaking his head. “I’ve just gained a bit of weight recently so they’re tighter than usual, that’s all! It also means I’ve gained a bit of a beer belly so let’s not discuss it!”

“What about you then, Lou?” Ed asked. “What do you love about our Haz?” Louis thought for a minute. Not about what he loved about Harry, because the answer to that was simply everything. But he considered how to put it into words that anyone else could understand.

“I feel like he’s made for me,” Louis said softly, tracing his finger down the slope of Harry’s nose. “Like no one else in the world could fit me the way he does. Like everything makes sense when I’m with him.”

“Fuck,” breathed Chris. “I didn’t think real people felt like that!” Louis chuckled and shrugged.

“And I love that he talks in his sleep,” he added. “It never makes any sense but it’s lovely all the same.”

“I talk in my sleep?” Harry questioned, looking up at Louis.

“Yeah, you do,” Louis smiled. “Especially when I bring you tea before bed. Must be the caffeine or something,”

“What about his music?” Ed interrupted. “What’s your favourite thing about that?”

“His voice,” Harry said immediately. “It’s beautiful and delicate. Like glass.” Louis shook his head in disbelief. Harry always said that but he knew his voice was the weakest in the band, so he could never understand Harry’s insistence. “He doesn’t like listening to himself, but it’s my favourite sound in the world.”

“That’s beautiful, Haz,” Ed smiled, scribbling feverishly on his notepad. “I reckon I could write a hundred songs about you two!”

“Just don’t tell Simon about the inspiration when you pitch them,” Louis warned with a laugh.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Ed grinned with a wink.

Chapter Text

As moving day drew closer and closer, Louis grew increasingly suspicious at how easily management had granted their request. It felt as though he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and drop it did just two days before they picked up their keys. He was on his way to collect the twins from school when his phone rang and a very upset Harry came on the line.

“Simon’s just called,” Harry blurted out immediately and a familiar wave of anxiety washed over Louis. “He wants me to promote a new presenter for the show by saying she’s my celebrity crush.”

“I thought Olly was doing The Xtra Factor this year?” Louis questioned confusedly. “Didn’t Ed say he was offered the contract?”

“He’s co-hosting apparently,” Harry replied flatly. “With someone called Caroline. Apparently she’s done some other stuff, too – I’m a Celeb I think he said.”

“And what? He wants to get her some attention before the show starts?” Louis asked, irritation rippling through him. “He wants to use you to do it?”

“Something like that,” Harry mumbled sadly.

“How can she be your celebrity crush when she isn’t even a celebrity?” Louis scoffed. “I’ve never heard of her!”

“Me neither,” Harry replied. “Are you annoyed?”

“Course not, H,” Louis soothed. “It’s not your fault. What did he say to you?”

“Just that I needed to mention her in our next interview and potentially send some tweets,” Harry sighed. “He mentioned that he was sorting out the last bit of paperwork for the flat today, so he wanted my agreement on this before he did that.”

“Subtle!” Louis snorted, though it really wasn’t very funny at all. “Listen babe, don’t worry about it. If it’s just a case of saying her name on-air then it’s not anything to get worked up about. And we can bet on being asked that question anyway, so it’s not like you’ll have to bring it up or anything. It’s literally just saying Caroline whatever instead of Frankie Sanford, yeah?”

“S’pose,” Harry mumbled. “Just feel like it’s ruining the excitement for moving.”

“Hey, nothing is going to ruin that, okay?” Louis said firmly. “I can’t wait to see you and get the keys. Only a day and a bit to go!”  

“Yeah, nearly there,” Harry said, beginning to sound a little more upbeat.

“Last chance to back out,” Louis teased, determined to cheer him up.

“Never,” Harry replied firmly.

“You sure?” Louis continued with a chuckle. “You know I never make the bed and leave plates in the sink for days.”

“Even so,” Harry laughed and Louis’ job was done. 

***

Sunday dawned grey and overcast with droplets threatening to fall throughout the morning, but none of that could dampen Louis’ spirits; it was finally moving day and he was more than ready to get going. After he had helped to pack up the small moving van with his boxes and given the driver the address, he went back inside to give final hugs to Jay and the girls. The twins sniffled and curled their small fingers into the material of his joggers while he hugged his mum tightly.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Louis whispered softly. “And you can visit as often as you like.”

“Call me when you get there, okay?” Jay said, attempting to keep the sadness from her voice. “I want to know you got there safely. And I’ll text James to check in on you both to make sure you’re alright.”

“Ah, Mum,” Louis scolded. “Don’t bother him! We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“He owes me a few favours, so I fully intend to call them in now!” she retorted, a small smile on her lips. Louis rolled his eyes exasperatedly before picking both of the twins up for a group cuddle.

“You two be good for Mum, okay?” he said sternly and they both nodded solemnly. “And make sure Fizzy doesn’t change my room too much. I know she’s eying it up already.” Fizzy feigned a look of innocence and Louis chuckled. After one more round of hugs, they walked him out, he hopped into his Boxster and took off towards the M1 and his new home.

Louis reached Princess Park in good time, missing most of the traffic. As he pulled up, he spotted his moving van parked alongside another one and a tall, slender figure with a mop of curly hair picking up a box from inside and carrying it towards the door of their new home. He beeped the horn and the figure turned, a huge grin instantly lighting up his features. He slowed to a stop beside him and rolled down the window; Harry set down the box and bent down so he could see into the driver’s seat, resting his arm on the shiny roof.

“I hear you’re looking for a roommate,” Louis smirked, raising his eyebrows suggestively and Harry snorted.

“Should I guess what kind of rent payment you’re going suggest?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.

“What kind of girl do you think I am, Mr Styles?” Louis gasped in faux outrage before dropping the act. “You nearly done with the boxes?”

“Yeah, about three or four more and we’re done,” Harry confirmed. “So you’ve managed to miss all of the hard work!”

“Perfect timing!” Louis teased. “I’ll go park and give you a hand with the last few then.” He waved Harry back to his labour and headed towards the carpark.

By the time Louis made it back to the entrance, the removal men were getting back into their vehicles and setting off again. Louis gave them a quick wave and strolled into the flat, finding Harry waiting for him at the foot of the stairwell. He pushed the door closed behind him and hurried over to pull Harry into a kiss, his thumbs rubbing against the soft flesh of his hips as he held him close.

“Hi,” he mumbled quietly against his lips between gentle pecks.

“Welcome home,” Harry replied, unable to contain the giggle of excitement that left him at the words. His hands cupped Louis’ jaw tenderly as he pressed their foreheads together, goofy grins on both their faces.

“Can’t believe we’re finally here,” Louis sighed contentedly. “Hey, aren’t I supposed to carry you through the door or something?” He pulled back to look questioningly at his other half.

“I think that’s when you get married, Lou,” Harry told him.

“Ah, that’ll have to wait ‘til next year then,” Louis teased with a wink and a soft smack to Harry’s bum before bounding up the stairs and into their dressing room to start unpacking his clothes.

Hours later, surrounded by half-empty boxes but too exhausted to carry on unpacking, the pair sat cross-legged on the floor of their new living room, a pizza box full of crusts between them and two glasses of cheap prosecco in their hands.

“To our first home,” Harry announced, raising his glass, eyes sparkling.

“Our first home,” Louis echoed, clinking his glass gently against Harry’s and leaning over to press their lips together.

***

Without any work commitments until the dreaded ‘celebrity crush’ interview on Friday, Louis and Harry had lots of time to settle into their new abode and make the most of every single moment of domestic bliss together. While Louis had used his first few pay cheques to splurge on his new car, he quickly discovered that Harry had been busy ordering homeware – and lots of it.

On Monday morning, no fewer than seven huge deliveries arrived at their front door and Louis looked on in amusement as Harry directed several large, burley delivery men in the set-up of two sofas (one for the living room, one for the cinema room), five armchairs (apparently their bedroom required one), a huge dining table (Louis couldn’t remember the last time they’d eaten anywhere other than in front of the tv), three beds (he wrongly presumed they’d only need one) and several of what Harry referred to as consoles (which disappointingly turned out to be a sort of small table rather than a new PlayStation). He was in his absolute element as he wandered around the room, calling out instructions to turn various pieces of furniture one way then another in his quest to find ‘balance in the space’. He tilted his head this way and that, inspecting how well the pieces were fitting into his ‘vision’ for their home in a manner that Louis found stupidly besotting, and he was content to simply sit and observe Harry as he built their little kingdom around them.

After he happily waved off the last of the delivery and set-up men late in the afternoon, Harry collapsed on their brand new sofa and cuddled into Louis’ side.

“It’s really coming together now, isn’t it?” he smiled, gazing around the room.

“It looks perfect, babe,” Louis replied, nuzzling into his curls, taking advantage of Harry sitting still for the first time all day.

“I thought we could pick up some paint samples tomorrow, if you’re up for it?” Harry asked excitedly. “I have some ideas but I really want your opinion on final colours. And it’ll be easier to paint before the smaller furniture and décor arrive on Thursday.”

“Whatever you want, love,” Louis offered. “You’re doing all the hard work so just direct me and I’ll do as I’m told.” Harry smiled softly at that and pressed a kiss to Louis’ shoulder.

“Thanks, Lou,” he mumbled against the fabric of Louis’ t-shirt. “I think you might be the best roommate ever, y’know?”

“I’d imagine I’m up there, yeah,” Louis teased, tickling his ribs lightly.

Paint shopping turned out to be infinitely more complex than Louis had expected. As far as he was aware, most walls were a sort of off-white or had wallpaper on them, but he quickly discovered that Dulux had invented more colours than the human eye was capable of observing. And they gave them mad names too, like Delicate Veil and Village Maze – none of which really gave any insight to the actual colour of the paint. For the millionth time, he appreciated how much time and effort Harry must have put in already to be able to navigate all of this. He seemed to do so with ease, strolling around the store with determined focus, picking out samples of complementary colours and asking employees for help to find ones that sounded more like he was ordering dessert than looking for paint.

“Soft Truffle and Vanilla White?” Louis questioned quietly as the employee took off in search of Harry’s very specific requests. “This paint shopping is making me hungry!” Harry chuckled and promised they could get lunch just as soon as he found his last two colours and, true to his word, they were in Subway fifteen minutes later, scarfing a meatball marinara each. Refuelled with a full belly, they headed back to the flat, ready to sample the evening away.

Several hours later, Louis made his way into their ensuite, still giggling, to wash off the mess of paint that now covered his skin and hair. He supposed it was a bit much to ask two teenagers not to turn the paintbrushes on one another at one point or another throughout the evening. Harry tumbled in after him, stripping his t-shirt over his head, eyes still shining with laughter. Louis switched on the water, already looking forward to the relaxing stream of the waterfall showerhead. While it came to temperature, he leaned back against the vanity and watched Harry shuck his jeans and discard them in the hamper with his t-shirt.

“Ged 'ere, you,” he murmured softly, holding out a hand which Harry grasped immediately, shuffling close to Louis. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s warm body, holding him close and inhaling his soft, sweet scent.

“I love that we can do this now,” Harry whispered, sliding his hands inside Louis’ t-shirt and grazing the sensitive skin at his waist with his nails causing goosebumps to erupt there. “No interruptions, no time-limits, just us.” Louis hummed his agreement against Harry’s shoulder as he began kissing along his collarbone, hands moving up to tangle in his hair. He moaned softly as Louis moved his mouth to the sensitive spot just below his ear and slowly sucked a bruise into the delicate skin there. “Mmm, that feels so good, Lou.” Louis smiled and moved up to capture his mouth in a searing kiss. He licked inside possessively and Harry met him with equal fervour, his hands guiding Louis up to perch on the edge of the vanity before impatiently tugging the hem of his t-shirt up. Louis broke away from his mouth to pull the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side before crashing their lips back together hungrily. Harry’s hands grabbed Louis’ arse greedily, pulling him forward and grinding into him, the solid length of his cock already straining against the thin material of his underwear. The wet patch of precum seeped across the fabric steadily as their bodies moved together in a glorious rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of arousal through their veins.

It occurred to Louis that with all the excitement of moving, they had been too exhausted to even consider sex until now. And how long had it been since he’d come before that? Four days? Five? Fuck, that would explain why he felt like he was going to blow his load just from Harry humping up against him, his hard cock pushing insistently against Louis’ own. He wasn’t going to last like this; he needed to come.

“Haz, I’m too – Fuck, you feel too good,” he gasped out desperately. “I’m not going to last.”

“Let me suck you then,” Harry moaned into his mouth. “Need you in my mouth.” Louis barely had time to nod his agreement before Harry dropped to his knees, tugging his joggers down as he went. He groaned loudly as Louis’ dick broke free and immediately enveloped him in his hot, wet mouth, the vibrations of his groans shooting through Louis like electricity.

His hands went to Harry’s hair without thought, tangling amongst the chocolate curls and gripping tightly. He had no intention of using his grip for anything other than to ground himself, but Harry’s hands cupped his arse and pushed his hips forward, inviting him to fuck into his mouth. Louis couldn’t resist; it felt too good. He thrust forward, pleasure fizzing through him as his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat and he felt it tighten deliciously around him.

He looked down at his beautiful boy, cheeks flushed and a sheen of sweat across his forehead as he swallowed Louis down. His eyes were glassy and spit dripped from his lips as his mouth stretched tight and took everything Louis had to give. The sight was too much and Louis cried out as he exploded down his throat, rope after rope of hot cum erupting from him as his knees buckled and he had to hold himself up using the countertop behind him.

Vaguely, amidst the waves of pleasure that washed over him, he felt something wet on his leg and, somewhere in his brain, it registered that Harry had come on him, wanking himself off as he almost choked on Louis’ cock. The thought made his knees go weak again and this time the jolt pulled him free of Harry’s gorgeous mouth. Gasping for breath, Harry laid his head against Louis’ hip and he carded his fingers through the curls as steadily as he could. 

“Jesus Christ, Haz,” Louis groaned out breathlessly. “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” Harry huffed out a laugh and collapsed onto the floor, pulling Louis by the hand to join him. They lay side-by-side on the cool tiles, hands clasped together as their breath steadied and hearts slowed.

“Deepthroating?” Harry asked, as nonchalantly as his panting breaths would allow, and Louis confirmed with a laugh. “Just been practicing.”

“Well, fuck me, it’s worked,” Louis grinned. “That was fucking incredible.”

“Sorry for the – ,” Harry trailed off, gesturing towards Louis’ leg. “Got a bit excited.”

“Harry Styles,” Louis said seriously. “You’ve just made me cum in about two seconds. You never have to apologise for anything, ever.” Harry laughed and rolled over the prop himself up on his elbow and hover over Louis.

“Definitely a memorable first orgasm in our new home,” Harry smiled thoughtfully.

“Unforgettable, baby,” Louis laughed, pulling him to his chest.

After a very thorough shower with lots of slow kisses and soft touches, they made their way to bed. As Harry padded around the bedroom in just a towel, Louis caught a glimpse of something pearlescent and his eyes were drawn down to Harry’s feet. He found himself unsurprised to discover that Harry had painted his toenails a soft, shimmery pink that caught the light beautifully and made him look more delicate and gorgeous than Louis thought any man could possibly be. He thought back to the pale pink bottle of polish that he had discovered nestled amongst Harry’s purchases when they were in LA. Unless he was mistaken, it was the very shade that so beautifully adorned Harry’s toes now.

Louis considered what it meant, that his boyfriend liked to paint his nails – what did it mean? That it made him feel good? That it made him feel soft or pretty or even feminine? Louis knew that that was how it made his sisters feel, but he’d never had that feeling himself. The countless times that Lottie had practised her technique on him had never made him feel anything other than impressed with her improving skills and like a good big brother. But obviously it made Harry feel something more.

Louis considered the fact that the polish was on his feet rather than his hands – was he hiding it? Had Louis made him feel like he had to hide it? Or was that just what he usually did? The questions swirled around Louis’ head as Harry climbed into bed and cuddled into him, snoring softly within minutes. There were so, so many questions but they all led to the same conclusion: Louis didn’t care for anything other than letting Harry know that it was okay to be exactly who he was. And so, as sleep washed over him, he made a vague plan to go to Boots the following morning and find a shade that he felt best suited his beautiful boy.

***

With Harry busy with breakfast, Louis called that he was nipping out to the shop and drove five minutes to the nearest Boots. In the store, he perused the countless bottles of colourful polishes with interest, hoping that his early start would mean he wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone. He dismissed the loud electric blues and neon pinks; neither of them were Harry. Finally, his hand brushed by a light mint green that caught his attention. Slipping it out of the stand, he inspected it closely. The pastel colour was pretty and soft, but more obvious than a pink or beige tone would be. It felt perfect.

When he returned, Harry was plating up eggs and sausages for them both. Louis popped the bag into his jacket pocket and joined him at the new dining table, wolfing down the delicious breakfast hungrily. He offered to wash up while Harry wandered off to their bedroom to get ready for the day and found him lounging on their bed when he was done. Louis rolled the small bottle nervously in his hand as he watched Harry scroll through his phone for a few moments, butterflies dancing around his tummy as he considered what he wanted to say. With a deep breath, he sat down on their bed and took Harry’s hand in his own free one.

“Babe, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he started, looking carefully at Harry to gauge his reaction. He set down his phone and gazed back at Louis, giving him his full attention. “I have a gift for you.” He opened his hand to reveal the small glass bottle in his palm and waited for Harry’s response. He just stared, shoulders stiffening, so Louis continued. “I noticed that you like to wear it and I just wanted you to know that that’s okay. I want you to know that you don’t have to hide it from me.” Still Harry didn’t move and Louis began to feel panic rise in his chest – had he misinterpreted something? He tried again. “I’m not saying I understand exactly why you do it and I'm not making any assumptions, but whatever the reason is, if it makes you feel good, then I’m happy to explore it with you.”

Harry exhaled and raised his head slowly, meeting Louis’ gaze. His eyes were teary and Louis felt the immediate need to hold him, but he resisted. Harry needed to speak now.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he began, his voice small and shaking. “It’s not something I’ve ever had to explain to anyone.”

“That’s okay,” Louis soothed. “You don’t need to explain anything now. I just want you to know that I’m here and ready to listen when you do.” Harry was silent for several moments, his eyes closed and his breath coming in deep inhales.

“It makes me feel pretty,” he murmured slowly and Louis squeezed his hand gently to show his understanding. Harry opened his eyes and looked at him nervously. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

“I think it’s beautiful, H,” Louis murmured softly. “It’s just another part of you to love. And I want to be part of it, if you’ll let me.” Harry looked at him confusedly and Louis continued. “I picked out this colour because I thought it’d suit you – soft, gentle, but fun.” A small smile lifted Harry’s lips, spurring Louis on. “I’m not bad at it, y'know. I’ve had lots of practice with the girls.” He held the bottle out questioningly and Harry body seemed to relax slightly.

“Yeah?” he breathed softly and relief washed over Louis.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, shifting closer and resting Harry’s hand on his knee. He gave the small bottle a shake. “I picked up some remover for you too, so you can keep it as long as you like.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry whispered, spreading his fingers and watching closely as Louis began to paint in even strokes.

Chapter Text

Louis started awake, the shrill ringing of his phone dragging him unceremoniously into consciousness. He looked at the screen through bleary eyes, internally cursing Stan when he saw his name flash up.

“Stanley, I’m asleep, what do you want?”

“Sorry to wake you, man,” Stan apologised, sounding uncharacteristically serious. “I wouldn’t call this early, only there’s something you need to see.” Louis felt his stomach drop; there were so many anxiety-inducing wakeup calls these days, he couldn’t even begin to speculate what was next.

“What is it?” he asked, keeping his voice low. Harry was still sleeping soundly beside him and he wanted to keep it that way.

“George is on a fucking rampage about you on Twitter,” Stan explained quickly.

“What do you mean?” Louis asked, panic rising in his chest. He thought back to what Hannah had said about her brother’s suspicions and knew what Stan would say before he had even begun to reply.

“He’s calling you a fag and saying you cheated on Hannah with a lad. He’s being a complete dick,” Stan gritted out, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ve tried my best to kinda gloss over it, but I don’t want to say anything to make it worse. What do you want me to do?” Louis sat up and rubbed his hand over his face, thinking hard.

“Just leave it, Stan,” he decided. “The more we say, the worse it’ll be. Just ignore it for now, but could you give Hannah a ring? She might be able to rein him in a bit. Thanks for letting me know, mate.”

“No problem, lad,” Stan replied. “Sorry to wake you up with this shit, but I thought it’d be best for you to know so you can handle it.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Louis agreed. “Thanks for the heads up. I better go, no doubt management will be calling shortly.”

“Alright, good luck with it,” Stan said sincerely. “Let me know if you need me to do anything else.” Louis thanked him again and hung up, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before gently grazing his knuckles up and down Harry’s bicep and kissing his forehead to rouse him. Harry stirred, blinking slowly at Louis and smiling as he came into focus.

“Morning gorgeous,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep. “You okay?”

“’Fraid not, babe,” Louis replied, deciding there was no point in beating it around the bush.

“Hannah’s brother is on one on Twitter. He’s telling people I cheated on Hannah and calling me a – Well, saying I’m gay.” Louis couldn’t bring himself to say the word to Harry; he knew it would upset him. Harry sat up, panic-stricken.

“What? Why?” he garbled. “Call Hannah. Get him to stop!”

“I’ve already spoken to Stan,” Louis reassured him, taking his hand to try to calm him down. “He’s speaking to her right now. I wanted to stay off the phone because I’m sure management will be calling. It never takes them long.” As he finished his sentence, his phone buzzed with a text. It was from Hannah:

Hey, just spoke to Stan. Have deleted the tweets and deactivated George’s account. He’s being a little twat for attention. I’m so sorry x

“At least they’re deleted now,” Harry offered, voice hopeful. “Maybe hardly anyone saw them.” Louis loved Harry’s optimism but he couldn’t help but feel it was bordering on fantasy in this instance.

“When have we ever been that lucky, Haz?” he asked, trying not to sound too defeated as he lay back on his propped pillow. “I can’t believe he’s being such a little prick about it, though! Hannah already warned him about saying stuff about me to his mates and then he does it on Twitter? What’s the fuck is his problem?” To his immense surprise, Harry merely shrugged before shuffling into Louis’ waiting arm and resting his head on his chest.

“Well, I guess we have to see it from his perspective,” he said carefully. “Like, as far as he knows, you and Hannah were together, she was being a really attentive girlfriend and you were… well, you’ve said it yourself, Lou, we’re not exactly subtle. I guess he just thinks that you made a fool of his sister and got away with it. He’s probably angry.”

“But that’s not what happened!” Louis exclaimed, looking down at Harry, incredulous at his words.

“We know that and Hannah knows that,” Harry replied calmly, tracing small patterns on Louis skin with his polished fingernail as he spoke. “But he doesn’t. Obviously it gives him no excuse to try to out you, but he’s probably just trying to protect Hannah – in a really messed up way, unfortunately. I’d be furious if I thought Gem’s boyfriend was seeing someone behind her back. Especially if lots of other people seemed to know about it while she was oblivious.” Louis considered what Harry had said, trying to remove his own emotion from the scenario. He was always astounded by Harry’s capacity for empathy, even when Louis felt that people probably didn’t deserve it.

“I do get what you mean,” he acknowledged, carding his hand through Harry’s curls slowly. “But it’s just going to create such a fucking mess for us now with management.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him close.

“It’ll be okay, hon,” Harry whispered, nuzzling into his chest. “We can’t control other people’s actions; they can’t blame us for it.” As though challenging his words, Louis’ phone buzzed again. This time it was an email:

Louis –

Mandatory meeting at my office at 1pm. Other band members are not required to attend.

Regards,

H Magee

Director of Modest! Management

***

Louis was getting really tired of sitting outside offices, waiting to be told off. It made him feel like he was back in school, getting into trouble day after day for the most stupid things. Except now he actually had something to lose, something he cared about; the stakes were much, much higher. The door opened and a young woman stepped out, giving him a tight smile.

“Mr Magee will see you now,” she told him, holding the door for him as he entered the office. Louis strolled into the office as steadily as he could, feigning confidence. He took in the three unsmiling faces that looked at him across the table as he took a seat: Harry Magee, Richard Griffiths and Simon Cowell – Louis didn’t know which face annoyed him most.

“Afternoon,” Louis nodded, voice liberally coated in disdain.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Simon said coldly. Straight to it then.

“Well, I know I haven’t done anything wrong,” Louis retorted pointedly. “So I assume it’s to discuss the actions of someone else, over which I have no control.”

“Now that you and Miss Walker are no longer engaging in a public relationship,” Simon continued, “it seems that your image is already taking a hit. We need to initiate a plan as soon as possible to try to limit the damage. We’ve already spoken about the – ”

“So another beard?” Louis interrupted, not remotely concerned that he was being rude. Simon looked mutinous at being spoken to so brusquely.

“PR relationship,” he corrected tersely. “And yes, that’s the current plan. We have someone in mind already, but it will take some organisation over the next couple of weeks to launch the relationship effectively.”

“How romantic,” Louis muttered. Magee cleared his throat and spoke for the first time, his voice light but intimidating.

“Perhaps you would prefer if Mr Styles were to take the lead on this one,” he suggested. “You seem very reluctant to engage; perhaps he would be more… receptive.” If all of those trips to the Headteacher’s office had taught Louis anything, it was to read between the lines of what someone was saying and Magee’s insinuation was clear: he thought Harry would be easier to break.

“No!” Louis exclaimed, panic overwhelming him. “I’ll do it. It’s fine. I can do it.” A small, satisfied smile crept across Magee’s thin lips at Louis’ response.

“Well, if you’re sure,” he said airily. “We’ll be in touch next week with details.” Louis nodded dumbly, feeling defeated. “We expect your full co-operation on this, Mr Tomlinson. We’re doing our best to work with you here. You’ve said that you’d prefer the portrayal of a long-term relationship over multiple short-term and we’ve agreed, despite the increased workload for our team.” Louis jerked his head up to meet Magee’s gaze.

“No,” he said in a strangled voice. “I don’t want to have to pretend to be with loads of different girls.”

“Well, we’ve thought about that actually,” Magee continued, smirking. “We decided that Harry would work better for that role. He’s certainly been well received by female fans across several age-ranges, so a bachelor image would work to our advantage.” Bachelor? They would portray him as their own personal stud; a different girl every week.

“No, don’t,” Louis mumbled. “Just – just let me do it. Leave Harry alone.”

“That’s really up to you, Louis,” Simon cut in. “If we can keep things on-track with you alone, then great. If we need to involve Harry, it will be with multiple partners. That’s the bottom line.”

“Fine!” Louis spat. “That’s fine. Let me know what I need to do. Whatever. Can I go now?”

“Of course,” Magee smiled ominously. “We’ll be in touch.” Without a word, Louis stood and walked out of the office, trying desperately to hold back the tears that flooded down his cheeks.

***

“Hey babe,” Harry looked up from the cutting board and smiled. “How did it go?” Louis hurried over and wrapped his arms around Harry, nestling his head into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He felt the overwhelming emotion rise from his stomach, travel painfully up through his chest and escape his body in sobs – raw, painful, harrowing sobs. Harry spun around in a panic, gathering Louis into his arms and holding him tightly.

“Lou, baby, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” He had never seen Louis like this. He was always so composed and calm – his protector. Not like this; his gasping breath and shuddering body were alien to Harry. “Breathe, baby, breathe.” He started rubbing slow circles into his back in an attempt to calm him. “In and out, okay?” He kept his left hand on Louis’ back and moved his right to his chest, trying to focus his breathing. Louis began to respond, his breath starting to slow, time between his sobs extending incrementally. Eventually, he inhaled deeply with closed eyes and shuffled into Harry’s embrace as he exhaled. Relieved, Harry enveloped him, pressing kisses to his head. He hadn’t noticed until now, but he’d grown taller than Louis in the past few months. Right now, as he comforted him, it seemed fitting.

“I’m sorry, Haz,” Louis breathed into his chest. “I can’t – They’re making me – “ He couldn’t seem to finish his thought, so Harry pulled him back and looked into his eyes.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he whispered. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. What did they say?”

“I have to have a PR relationship with someone,” he mumbled, his eyes bloodshot and his lip trembling. “They said they have someone already but it’ll take a few weeks to organise.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, trying to remain calm for Louis’ sake. “We knew this was a possibility, honey. It’ll be fine. It won’t be that different to Hannah, okay? Maybe even easier because this girl will probably be in the industry. Maybe she’ll have done it before. She’ll know what she’s doing.” Harry tried to be as optimistic as possible. He wanted so desperately to soothe Louis.

“It’s not that, H,” Louis murmured. “They threatened to do it to you, too. I can’t let them do that to you.”

“Lou, stop,” Harry whispered. “It’s not all on you. Let me help. Tell me what they said.”

“No, Haz,” Louis shook his head, looking exhausted. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” Harry’s hands went to Louis’ jaw, cupping it, making him look into his eyes.

“Louis,” Harry said firmly. “This isn’t a request. Tell me what they said and let me help.” Louis shook his head slowly, determined. “Louis, I’m serious. I’m not asking. I need to know what went on in the meeting. Now.” Louis closed his eyes resignedly, his face still in Harry’s grasp.

“Okay,” he breathed, despondent. “They said that if I don’t make this work, then they’ll push it onto you. They’ll have you with lots of different girls. They’ll push the stupid womaniser image.” Harry took it in, nodding slowly.

“Okay,” he responded calmly, loosening his grip and moving his hands back to Louis’ waist. “Babe, I can handle that. I can do that for us. Let me do it for us.”

“No, Haz!” Louis exclaimed. “No way! Don’t you remember the article about you and Cher? How that made you feel? I’m not letting you go through that again and again. No fucking way. I can’t –“

“But I want to –“

“No!” Louis exploded and Harry recoiled slightly, moving back from him. He rarely lost his temper, but this was important. He needed Harry to understand. “You’re not doing it, okay? I can handle this. Just… Just leave it. I’m handling it for us.” Harry didn’t try to move back to him. Instead, he turned and stalked out of the kitchen and, moments later, Louis heard their bedroom door slam shut.

***

Louis took a deep breath and raised his fist to the door, knocking lightly. No response. He knocked again.

“Hazza?” he called, hoping for a response. “Can I come in?”

“Are you planning to yell at me?” Shit, he was still mad. Louis closed his eyes to compose himself then opened the door.

“No babe,” he said as he walked into the room. “I just want to apologise and talk.”

Silence.

Louis took this as an invitation and closed the door behind him, making his way over to the bed and sitting with his legs crossed. Harry was curled up on his side, facing away from him. Louis reached out stroke his hair and felt encouraged when he let him.

“I’m so sorry for shouting, Haz,” Louis murmured. “That wasn’t okay and I’m so sorry for losing my temper. It wasn’t directed at you at all. I was just so frustrated. I know I need to work on that.” He felt embarrassed that they had had to have this same conversation before. It wasn’t good enough. “I just want to protect you, baby. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay.”

“And it’s my job to make sure you are,” came Harry’s voice, small and tinged with sadness. Louis felt his heart melt. Harry was so good. So, so good. He shifted to curl in behind Harry, spooning him.

“I know, baby,” he whispered into Harry’s ear. “I’m sorry.” Harry’s hand came back and he laced his fingers with Louis’, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush.

“I’m not weak, Lou,” Harry mumbled. “I can do what needs to be done. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

“I’ve never, ever thought that you’re weak, Haz,” Louis responded firmly, determined to rid Harry of this falsehood. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. The way you love, the way you treat people, your determination. Weak is the last word I’d use to describe you.”

“Then let me be strong for us,” Harry implored, loosening his grip on Louis and turning to face him. “I can pretend to go out on some stupid dates. I don’t care. It doesn’t mean anything!” Louis smiled at him, rubbing their noses together softly.

“I know you can,” he assured Harry. “I’m gonna be honest, Haz. I got the impression that they’ve been planning for that eventuality regardless of what I do. So let’s see how far we can push it with just me first and then we’ll consider that, okay?” Louis looked pleadingly into Harry’s eyes and Harry nodded. “I love you, H. I’m so sorry for letting their stupid games come between us. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, okay?”

“I know, Lou,” Harry whispered, pressing his lips to Louis’. “I love you. It’s me and you, okay?” Louis pressed kiss after kiss into Harry’s lips. Desperate to convey how much he agreed with Harry’s sentiment.

“You and me, Haz,” he murmured between kisses.

Chapter Text

Reinvigorated by their emotional encounter, Louis and Harry found themselves pushing the boundaries in interviews over the following days. They were devastated by the idea that Louis would soon be forced to present himself as loving boyfriend to a complete stranger, so they found themselves almost subconsciously rebelling. At a radio interview a few days later, Louis encouraged Harry to do something publicly  that he had seen and helped him do in private multiple times now.

“Do the whole nails for God’s sake, Harry!” Louis exclaimed. “Embrace it!” He rose from his seat and slung him arms around a still seated Harry. He brought his mouth to Harry’s ear, hidden from view.

“Go for it, babe,” he breathed. Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he held his hands out to Róisín, who began painting his nails a soft baby pink, not dissimilar from the one Louis had first noticed him wearing.

“Look how pretty they look!” Zayn exclaimed and Louis beamed at him. Confident that Harry was now feeling comfortable, Louis made his way back to his seat, re-joining the conversation which had now turned to their ideas for what they would call their upcoming album.

“I was gonna call it Zayn and the Boys,” Zayn grinned, eager to antagonise the others. But Louis had one focus and one focus only: his boy.

“What about Painted Nails Make Harry Beautiful?” Louis smiled, glancing over and catching Harry eye. Harry held his gaze and spoke to him alone.

“I feel so much prettier now.”

***

As they entered the final week of August, Louis received a phone call with the news he had been dreading: Modest! had completed their preparation and had chosen the girl who would take on the role of Louis’ girlfriend.

“We’ll look to seed the relationship in the press in the next month,” Simon told him. “We’ll probably do some initial pap pictures to launch it and then have confirmation after a couple of weeks.”

“Right,” said Louis shortly. “So what do you need from me exactly?”

“Nothing for the moment,” Simon drawled, sounding bored. “Just keeping you in the loop. We do work together after all.” Louis scoffed none too quietly and Simon sighed. “Louis, I know you think I’m being some sort of awful dictator here, but I’m really trying to do what’s best for you. For all of you.” Louis said nothing. “I’m not doing this to be cruel.”

“No, it’s perfectly humane,” Louis retorted. “Especially the part where I have to fake a relationship.”

“We’ve been through this, Louis,” Simon sighed. “Fake happiness in public, real happiness in private. It’s not that hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” Louis muttered.

“If you’d grow up and stop acting like a spoilt child, it’ll be easier for you, too,” Simon spat. “I’ll be in contact soon to discuss specifics. In the meantime, tell him to tone down the makeup, will you?”

“It was nail polish,” Louis growled.

“Whatever,” retorted Simon curtly. “Less of the girly stuff –”

Louis hung up.

***

Louis had returned home from Leeds Fest 2010, tired, hungover and in grave need of a shower after spending three days sleeping in a tent - and he’d been looking forward to going to Leeds Fest 2011 ever since. As the weekend finally drew near, he decided it would be the perfect opportunity for him to treat Harry to some much-needed time to relax and go a bit crazy.

“I have a surprise for you,” Louis grinned at Harry over breakfast the Wednesday morning before the festival began. Harry looked up from his eggs, his eyes wide with excitement already.

“What is it?” he demanded, eagerness momentarily overruling his normally impeccable manners. Louis slid an envelope across the table to him and Harry grabbed it, tipping it upside down impatiently. The tickets escaped and fluttered down to the table. “Leeds Fest? We’re going to Leeds Fest?” Harry picked the tickets up and inspected them closely, a grin lighting his lovely features. “This weekend?”

“Yep,” Louis announced, feeling giddy with excitement. “The past couple of weeks have been shit and we deserve a chance to just chill out for a few days. Everyone will be too drunk and tired to even notice us, I reckon!” Harry laughed, getting up to wrap a still seated Louis in a hug.

“That’s so sweet of you, babe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of Louis’ head. “It sounds perfect at the minute. Just getting lost in a huge sea of people, not having to constantly think about what we’re doing or saying – it’ll be amazing!”

“It’s a bit of a two-part surprise actually,” Louis went on as Harry released him and shuffled around to perch on his lap. “I’ve spoken to Stan and Jonny, so they and a few of the other lads have got tickets, too.” Harry smiled and looped his arms around Louis’ neck, pecking his lips softly.

“It’s gonna be so fun!” he exclaimed excitedly. “It’ll be nice to catch up with everyone, too.”

“Definitely,” Louis nodded in agreement. “Although, Stan and Jonny have both already warned me that they’re not sharing a tent with us.”

“What? Why?”

“Apparently they’re still not over the ski trip,” Louis rolled his eyes and Harry frowned at him, confused. “According to them, we are, to use Stan’s phrasing, ‘too horny for each other’s dicks’ and they don’t want to see or’ – and they emphasised this bit – ‘hear it’.” Harry buried his face in Louis’ neck, laughing. “So, we may have been slightly louder than we thought in France.”

“Oh god,” Harry groaned, embarrassed. “Did they mention specifics?”

“Um, not really – “ Louis said evasively.

“Lou,” Harry said in a warning tone, looking up at him with already flaming cheeks.

“Okay, okay,” Louis relented. “They may have heard you ask for… something.”  Harry’s eyes widened in horror, knowing what was coming next. “Just – y’know… ‘Please give me your big dick, Daddy’ or something along those lines.” Harry slid off Louis’ lap and sat on the floor, his knees drawn up into his arms and his face buried in them.

“I want to die,” came his muffled voice. “I can never look them in the eye again!” Louis dissolved into a fit of laughter at Harry’s theatrics. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m so embarrassed!”

“Haz, it’s fine,” he choked out. “Who cares? I’ve heard Stan say way more embarrassing stuff to girls!” Harry scoffed incredulously and Louis lowered himself down to sit in front of him, a leg either side of Harry’s curled up figure. He pulled him in close and Harry lifted his face to look at him. “Hey, we were just in the moment. I thought it was hot!” He shrugged and pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. Harry visibly relaxed, his grip on his knees loosening.

“Really?” he inquired quietly.

“Mmhmm, I think everything you do is hot, to be fair,” Louis smiled at him, playing gently with the curls at the nape of his neck. “It’s honestly not a big deal. I just thought I’d prewarn you in case they decide to be dicks about it, that’s all.”

“I’ll be so humiliated if they bring it up, though,” Harry cringed.

“Don’t be,” Louis advised. “Just act like you don’t care. Ask them if they want you to send them the video to wank to. Just embarrass them back. It’s so easy to do with lads cause they get all flustered at the idea of being accused of liking dick. It’s hilarious!” Harry nodded and couldn’t help but smile at Louis’ total confidence and self-assurance. He was becoming so truly comfortable with himself in a way that Harry completely admired. “Now, if you would like us to actually make said video and send it to me, I would be more than willing to accept.” Harry barked out a laugh and pushed Louis off.

“Keep dreaming, Tomlinson!”

***

Over the following days, the idea of a fun weekend away with Harry was all that kept Louis going. Aside from a gruelling promotional schedule ahead of the release of What Makes You Beautiful, Louis received the phone call he had been dreading from Simon.

“So, we’ll organise for you to meet with Eleanor early next month and we’re planning a photo opportunity mid-month,” Simon informed him. “There are some scheduled articles about your living situation, so it will ideally be at the same time to shift focus away from that story.”

“It’s not a story,” Louis said flatly. “We do live together. It’s real. Unlike the staged pap shots you’re setting up.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that, thank you, Louis,” Simon retorted. “Anyway, I’m just keeping you up to date on the progress. You know, if you play this properly, it will actually benefit you and Harry. If people believe you’re a devoted boyfriend to Eleanor, it’ll take the spotlight off you and him.”

“I’m not that convincing of an actor,” Louis gritted out.

“Well, maybe you should learn to be,” Simon said lightly. “For your own good.” And he hung up. Louis threw his phone down on the bed and sighed, too exhausted to even be angry. He wandered downstairs to where Harry was curled up on the couch, watching tv. He threw himself down on the comfy cushions and Harry stretched out to rest his legs across Louis’ lap.

“Simon called,” Louis informed him, massaging his foot while Harry hummed happily at the relaxing sensation. “Project Beard is a-go next month. Her name is Eleanor and he’s arranging a meeting after Leeds.”

“It might be okay, Lou,” Harry reasoned. “She might be nice.”

“I don’t really care how nice she is, love,” Louis sighed. “Unless it’s you in a dress, I don’t want anything to do with her!” Harry smiled and shrugged. “Anyway, it’s just made me so much more excited for Leeds now. If they’re going ahead with this soon then fuck it, let’s just have a great weekend. Just completely forget about Simon, the band, the beard, the whole thing! Just focus on having fun while we still can. I’ll probably have to bring her next year, so let’s just make the most of it now!” Harry nodded in agreement.

“We should warn them,” Harry said suddenly and Louis looked at him in bewilderment. “The fans! We should warn them that this is going to happen so they don’t believe the articles!”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Louis replied thoughtfully. “I don’t really care if people in general buy it, but we did say we’d try to get little messages to the ones who are really listening.” He fished his phone from his pocket and opened his Twitter feed. “What could I say that won’t sound too obvious?”

“What about, like, an explanation? Harry suggested. “Like, let them know that it’s only happening because management are scared.” Louis nodded.

“Like because they’ve figured it out and know the truth” he agreed. “And I need to, like, make it a bit different to how I normally say things so they notice it.”

“What about ‘Ye know too much’?” Harry laughed, remembering Niall’s adamant protestations the day before that ‘ye’ was the plural of ‘you’. Louis chuckled at the memory.

“Yeah, I’ll go with that,” he decided, typing out the tweet but not posting it. “But I’ll do it later tonight when the Social Media team aren’t online. At least then it’ll have been up long enough for people to see it before they can delete it.”

“Good plan, my little defiant genius,” Harry crooned at him, squeezing his cheek jokingly.

“I’m just a rebel bad-boy, Haz,” Louis grinned. “It’s why I made such a good Danny Zuko!”

Chapter Text

“Alright, we want to try to get it in one take, boys,” the director announced, distributing pieces of paper to Niall, Harry, Zayn and Liam. “You introduce it Louis, then each of you show and announce your hashtag, okay?” They all nodded. The Bring 1D To Me promo was always fairly straightforward for them with only a short video diary to film for the fans every week. “Get this done and we can all go. Okay, action!”

“Hello!” Louis exclaimed, hamming it up for the camera. His enthusiasm was partly driven by the knowledge that he and Harry would be hopping into his Boxster and taking off for Leeds in five minutes time. “It’s been a great week for Bring 1D To Me. I can’t believe that – “

“GermanyCowman”

“Swedenlovesturtles”

“VasHappeninItaly”

“Hollanddreamsofspoons”

“ – are all trending!” Louis finished with a cheer that the others joined in on. They were being over-the-top and silly, but it was fun to act like idiots. The other four held up images of the fanart they’d been given and, feeling left out, Louis pretended to hold an invisible one.

“Head over to the Bring 1D To Me website to find out what you need to tag, increase and download,” Harry recited with a huge grin. As he was distracted by trying to remember his line, Louis seized the opportunity to snatch Harry’s poster and make it his own. Harry only grinned wider and reached for his wrist instinctively, rubbing it affectionately, before releasing it to wave energetically with both hands. “Byeee! See ya!” The other four joined in whooping and waving.

“And cut!” called the director. “Great, got it, done. Off you go, you’re free!”

And Louis and Harry almost ran out the door of the studio.

***

The three hour trip to Branham Park went surprisingly quickly. But then, fuelled by excitement and Harry’s company, Louis expected nothing less. They came off the M1 just as it started to get dark and Harry posed a totally unexpected question.

“Lou, what do you think about road head?” Louis choked out a laugh in surprise.

“Um, I’ve never really given it much thought, babe,” he chuckled. “Why?”

“Just thought we could give it a try,” Harry shrugged, his tone casual. “As a thank you for driving us. Plus, we were too tired last night and up early this morning and busy all day and – “

“H, are you feeling a bit horny?” Louis teased. “And trying to pass it off as a thank you for me?” Harry smirked guiltily and Louis chuckled. “I dunno, babe. I’m slightly concerned that I’d crash the car to be honest. You know what your mouth does to me!”

“Well, that’s why I waited until we were off the motorway!” Harry exclaimed. “I was being very responsible. Plus it’s dark now so less chance of giving a passing lorry driver a show.”

“So responsible,” Louis laughed. “Okay, y’know what, you’ve got me thinking about it and all worked up now. How could I possibly say no?” Harry grinned mischievously, getting his way as he always did. In the year and a half since they’d met, Louis hadn’t found himself able to say no to Harry on very many occasions. In fact, as Harry reached over to unbutton his jeans, he couldn’t recall a single one, and as he pulled Louis’ semi-hard dick free, Louis stopped thinking completely. He’d need all of his concentration on the road in front of him and the hot, wet, soft mouth that enveloped him completely. Louis groaned as blood rushed to his dick, hardening, thickening, filling Harry’s mouth until he had to pull back slightly to breathe properly, dragging his lips up the length of it. He pulled off momentarily to allow spit to drip from his lips onto Louis’ already soaking tip and trickle down the sides of his throbbing dick, before swallowing him down again. The combination of Harry’s exquisite mouth and the thrill of doing something so new and potentially risky meant that Louis’ orgasm built quickly. After mere minutes of Harry sucking greedily on him, his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel.

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” he warned, his voice husky with desire. Harry moaned hungrily, the vibrations pushing Louis over the edge. He felt his balls throb and tighten pleasurably as he filled Harry’s mouth with thick spurts of his cum, waves of satisfaction releasing from his dick and engulfing the rest of his body. He moaned Harry’s name loudly at the release, totally overwhelmed by love for him; no one else could make him feel like this. Harry pulled back to swallow down his cum before cleaning Louis off with gentle licks. He tucked him back into his pants carefully and did up his jeans for him before raising his head up to give Louis a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you for driving,” he mumbled softly against Louis’ skin.

“Any time,” Louis smiled weakly, with a shaky exhale.

***

A very tipsy Stan rhythmically thrust his fist into the air in time with a beat totally different to what Louis was hearing; the resulting image was hilarious to Louis, especially after several tokes of a spliff supplied by Jonny. He readjusted his own headphones and surveyed the other silent disco dancers surrounding him. It was almost 3AM and he was unsurprised that most people seemed to have dropped out to head back to their tent. Poor Harry had been reduced to simply swaying side to side, his eyelids beginning to droop as he yawned widely. Louis smiled fondly and wandered over to him, pulling off his headphones as he went. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and Harry lowered his own headphones, too.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Louis smiled. “Ready for a kip?” Harry nodded, yawning again. “C’mon then, let’s get you into a sleeping bag for a cuddle.” He tapped Stan on the shoulder and signalled that they were heading back; Stan gave him a double thumbs up before returning to his enthusiastic grooving.

The campground was surprisingly quiet given the number of people present. Louis felt appreciative of this as he snuggled down further into the double sleeping bag he was sharing with Harry. He hadn’t even known such a thing existed until Harry had returned from Mountain Warehouse on Thursday, weighed down with his many purchases for his first festival. He smiled as he remembered Harry’s outrage at the possibility of sleeping in two separate ones.

“I won’t be robbed of cuddles, Tomlinson!” he’d exclaimed in disgust. “You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be with me. I need cuddles to sustain me!”

Louis grinned to himself and pulled Harry closer inside the sleeping bag, more than happy to provide him with all of the cuddles he would ever need.

***

Louis’ hopes for a relatively anonymous weekend were dampened the following morning. While they had been cloaked by not only darkness but the drunkenness of other people the night before, he and Harry quickly discovered that they were easily recognisable to sober people during daylight hours. After a morning of being constantly approached for pictures with fans, Louis was happy to spend the afternoon sprawled out on camping chairs with their mates in the little empty circle of space they had created with their tents. Lugging several coolers of drinks into the centre like a campfire, they all sat around, their surrounding tents providing some degree of privacy from the outside world. As well as Stan and Jonny, there were two more Donny lads, Nizam and Geoff, and two of Harry’s friends from home. Louis had never met Harry’s other friends before, but they seemed like nice enough lads.

“Fucking delighted you were able to make it to this, Tommo,” Nizam exclaimed, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Haven’t see you in like a year, man.”

“Yeah, I know, mate,” Louis agreed. “Things have just been absolutely mental with the band, haven’t they, Haz?”

“Yeah, it’s been crazy all year,” Harry agreed. “We had a bit of a rest after the tour in April, but it’s been pretty much non-stop since June with recording and promo and stuff.”

“Still enough time to get a bit though, eh Haz?” Nizam smirked. Harry looked at him, confused, then glanced at Louis.

“What d’you mean?” Louis asked, keeping his tone light in spite of the anxiety that rose in his chest.

“Heard you banged that radio presenter, didn’t you?” Nizam crowed delightedly. “Lucy something. In her thirties, i’nt she? She’s fucking fit, mate!” Louis looked over at Harry whose expression was somewhere between confused and upset.

“No,” he said quietly. “I didn’t.”

“Aw c’mon, lad,” Nizam laughed, mistaking Harry’s upset for coyness. “You’re not in an interview now. We don’t give a fuck, like. Are you keeping it quiet cos she’s married? Fuck him, I’m sure he’d do the same in your – “

“Shut up, Nizam,” Louis spat. “It didn’t happen. End of.”

“What the fuck, Tommo?” he retorted, his smile fading quickly. “I’m only having a laugh. Jesus, I’d be fucking her too if I – “

“Who told you that anyway?” Louis demanded, his eyes darting to Harry who had begun to pull at his lip – a sure sign he was getting anxious and overwhelmed.

“One of the girls saw it in some magazine or somewhere,” Nizam explained with a frown, still confused by the change in tone. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.” Louis looked around the others; Stan and Jonny were looking at one another uneasily while the other three looked completely uncomfortable with how the conversation had turned. Shit. Damage control.

“Look, I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but Harry isn’t like that,” Louis said firmly. “He doesn’t sleep around; it’s just bullshit made up by the press.” Nizam nodded.

“Sorry, Haz,” he offered. “Didn’t mean to make you feel awkward or whatever.” Harry gave him a tight smile.

“I’m starving,” Jonny announced suddenly, standing up. “Anyone want to go get a burger or something?” Stan, Geoff and Harry’s two mates all voiced their assent and stood to go. Nizam was still eyeing Louis curiously.

“I’m just going to lie down for a bit,” Harry mumbled. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.” He wandered over to his and Louis’ tent, zipping it closed behind him. The other four began to make their way to find a burger van while Nizam lagged behind, clearly wanting to speak with Louis. Steadying his temper, Louis caught up with him.

“Listen mate,” Nizam began. “I really didn’t mean to cause a problem there. I didn’t expect that reaction from him… or you.”

“Just forget about it,” Louis insisted. “It’s just annoying that lies are being spread about him.”

“Why though?” Nizam pressed. “I wouldn’t give a shit if people thought I was shagging hot women. Why does he care?” He paused for a moment, looking at Louis. “He’s not, like, queer or summat?” Louis froze, dread seizing him. He’d known Nizam for years and he’d always found himself able to brush over his more ignorant comments about gays and women; those opinions were depressingly common amongst groups of northern, working class lads. Louis felt burning shame rise inside him as his brain pushed forth memories of him laughing uncomfortably at some of the things Nizam or the other lads had come out with in the past. He’d said and done stupid things too, but it seemed that while he had grown up and realised how fucked up those opinions were, Nizam hadn’t quite reached that point.

“He doesn’t like being lied about,” Louis retorted coldly, shame and anger at himself driving his tone. “It’s sick that they just make stuff up about us and, as a mate, you should be one of the last people to just believe it, for fuck’s sake!” He turned on his heel and stormed back to the tent, leaving Nizam to shrug in confusion before hurrying off to find the rest of the lads.

Louis climbed into the tent, zipping it behind him. He crawled over to where Harry was curled up and cuddled in to spoon him.

“You okay, hon?” he whispered. “I’m sorry he was being such a twat.”

“I didn’t realise that had even been printed,” Harry mumbled. “I didn’t even see it. They didn’t even tell me it was happening.”

“They probably just let the press run with it,” Louis reasoned. “I don’t think they need much encouragement from management to print lies.”

“But what’s the point in us bargaining with them to let us live together if they’re just going to let stories like that run anyway?” Harry questioned with a sniff. “They’re not playing fair.”

“They never have done, Haz,” Louis reminded him. “Management care about us as products, not people. They’ll bargain with us when they have to but they don’t see it as our life.”

“Then I don’t care anymore,” Harry said determinedly. “I’m not going to hide things to make their job easier.” Louis held him close and smiled.

“I think my defiant streak is rubbing off on you, babe,” he chuckled.

Chapter Text

Harry entered into his rebellious phase with fervour the following week during their Sugarscape interview at Sony. Louis had always quite liked being interviewed by the girls at Sugarscape; they were fun and, even though they never mentioned it directly, something told Louis that they suspected and supported his and Harry’s relationship. He recalled how surprised he’d been to find the video of Harry telling them that his ‘first real crush was Louis Tomlinson’ online; it seemed as though those bits of interviews usually just disappeared, presumably at the request of management. But the Sugarscape girls seemed to go their own way on that front, and Louis was looking forward to another day messing around with them and calling it work.

“Olly Murs has said in the past that to help him get to number one, he has promised naked photo shoots if he charts,” Laura told them, flashing a grin. “Is that something you guys would consider?”

“Oh yeah, I saw that,” Harry exclaimed. “He had a hat on his ding-a-ling.” He gestured vaguely to his own crotch. Ding-a-ling. Fucking adorable. And impossible not to tease.

“What’s a ding-a-ling?” Louis questioned, feigning innocence while Harry stuttered nervously. “Oh, you mean his penis.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder and squeezed it gently. Harry smiled at his teasing and agreed.

“Maybe Louis could have a carrot in front of his or something,” Laura suggested, holding back laughter. “Is that something you’d consider?” Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.

“I don’t think it’d cover it,” he mused and Niall burst out laughing. Harry turned to point at and high five Louis, delighted at his own quick wit. “Yeah, penis jokes!”

“My favourite,” Louis agreed in an undertone, before looking to the left to see an unimpressed employee from Modest! glaring at him. His grin dropped and he looked back to the camera. Okay, maybe talking about dicks was a little too obvious, then.

But Harry wasn’t so easily dissuaded. Throughout the interview, he completely ignored the suspicious looks from the sidelines and seemed to have the have the time of his life.

“The thing I like most about Chop Suey,” he announced into his microphone, “is his eyelashes.” Louis smiled at the compliment and tried to play it off as something he was told all the time. When they moved on to speak about the things they liked most about being in a band, Harry appeared to consider the question deeply.

“I like girls,” he finally blurted out in the least genuine tone Louis had ever heard. He looked at Harry incredulously, but he seemed unperturbed. “What? It’s relevant.”

“You’ve changed,” chuckled Zayn in an undertone and Louis laughed again.

For their final section, they each had to do a solo interview. Louis happily answered questions about his day at V Festival the month before and cringed when Laura asked if he would consider piercing his nipple. Questions answered and satisfied he’d done a good job, he wandered over to the sofa to relax while Niall did the final interview. Harry’s rebellious streak seemed to have energised him and he bounded over to Louis, settling on the floor between Louis' legs and resting his forearms on Louis’ lap.

“Y’okay, babe?” Louis whispered, trying to avoid being picked up by a stray mic.

“Yep, just wanna get home,” Harry responded at his normal volume, apparently unconcerned. “Feeling a bit restless.”

“We’ll get back soon,” Louis reassured him. “Niall’s the last one and then we can go. Why are you feeling restless?” Harry looked up at him coyly, holding his gaze and communicating without words. Oh. It was look he gave Louis at home before pouncing on him. Louis swallowed nervously.

“Lou,” Harry asked. “Can I give you a blowjob?” Niall’s head whipped round; both he and Zayn cackled loudly. Liam rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I’d love it, if you’d just wait,” Louis told him, smiling. “Now shush before you get us into trouble.” He doubted even Sugarscape would be brave enough to use that footage.

***

“Right, I’m off, babe,” Louis announced as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the armchair. “I’ll call you as soon as it’s done and let you know how it went, okay?”

“Good luck, Lou,” Harry smiled, making grabby hands at Louis from where he lay on the couch. Louis hurried over and leaned down to kiss him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine and Eleanor will be perfectly nice.”

“Just not you,” Louis frowned, cupping Harry’s jaw to kiss him properly. “You’re being too nice, Haz.” He pressed their lips together for a lingering kiss.

“Fine, she’s the worst,” Harry laughed as they parted. “She can’t have you, you’re mine!”

“That’s more like it, Styles,” Louis murmured. “I’ll see you in a bit. I love you so much.”

“Love you, honey,” Harry replied, giving him a last quick peck. Louis straightened up and shrugged on his jacket before making his way to the door. “You look hot, by the way!” Harry called after him as he left the room. Louis chuckled, picking up his keys and heading out.

“Can you let him know that Louis Tomlinson is here, please?” Louis said to the receptionist, looking down at his watch. He was a few minutes late, but he couldn’t even express how little he cared when those minutes had been spent kissing Harry.

“Of course, Mr Tomlinson,” she smiled, picking up the phone and dialling. Louis returned her smile and went to sit down in the waiting area, but before he could even make it that far, the receptionist spoke again. “He says to go right up.”

“Oh right, thanks,” Louis said, turning on his heel and making his way to the lift. Magee normally kept him waiting for at least a few minutes; he must be eager to start the meeting. He knocked on the door and let himself into the office without waiting for a reply.

“Ah, Louis,” said Simon. “Thanks for joining us.” Louis glanced around at the faces before him. As well as Simon, Magee and Griffiths’ all too familiar faces, there was a girl sitting quietly on Louis’ side of the table. She had a pretty face and long, dark hair falling in loose curls over her slender shoulders. She glanced up at Louis and smiled slightly awkwardly.

“This is Eleanor Calder,” Magee informed him. Eleanor moved to stand, presumably to shake his hand, but Louis quickly sat down to avoid it and she sat back again, looking uncomfortable. “She’ll be working with us for the foreseeable.”

“Right,” Louis muttered. “So what’s the point of this meeting, then? Just to be introduced?”

“Something like that,” Magee continued. “Eleanor has very graciously agreed to partake in a PR relationship with you over the coming months.” Louis snorted and Eleanor looked slightly alarmed. Magee ignored him and ploughed on with his speech. “It is currently a contract of indefinite duration, meaning we will work on a bi-annual basis for the time being, reassessing our needs every six months. Eleanor will work directly with Modest! to organise her schedule for events, photograph opportunities etc. You will not need to be in contact, if that’s what you prefer. However, I would suggest that some familiarity between you will go a long way in appearing convincing.”

“I think it’ll take more than a few texts to make it convincing that I know her from Adam,” Louis said sceptically.

“I believe we’ve discussed the alternative routes should this fail,” Magee reminded him, his tone glacial. Louis’ stomach clenched as he recalled Harry’s reaction to Nizam’s questions at Leeds Fest.

“Yeah, you’ve made it clear,” Louis said hurriedly. “So, can we go somewhere to have a chat then?”

“Not quite,” Simon frowned. “You can’t be seen together before the official launch. It’s important that things happen as planned. There’s a meeting room down the hall that you can use. I’ll have someone bring up coffees for you.” Louis bit back a retort about making it a special first date and instead nodded tersely.

“So, you’re Louis?” Eleanor smiled at him. “They didn’t actually introduce you back there, but I’m making an educated guess.” She was trying to put Louis at ease, but he wasn’t particularly in the mood to entertain her.

“Obviously,” he said, unsmiling. “So, why are you doing this?” The question had been bothering him all morning.

“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning now.

“Why are you agreeing to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend?” he elaborated. “What are you getting out of it?” She looked down and Louis thought she looked a bit embarrassed.

“Well, my dad knows Harry and he offered to help me with modelling a while back,” she explained. “He said that he’d be able to get me some proper jobs and campaigns, so I agreed to meet with him. Then he explained that having a PR relationship with someone who was gaining popularity would really help with exposure. He also said the pay would be pretty good and I’m a student at the minute, so I couldn’t really turn it down.”

“You’re a student?” Louis repeated, surprised.

“Yeah, Sociology and Politics at Manchester,” she told him. “It’s my first year.”

“Right, so what else did he tell you?” Louis pressed, wondering how much she actually knew about his situation. Was it possible Eleanor wasn’t even aware that she was going to be a beard?

“Nothing really,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. “Just asked if I knew who you were, which I obviously did, and then said that he was looking for someone to engage in a PR relationship with you with potential of it becoming a long-term contract.”

“Did he say why?” Louis asked.

“Why what?”

“Why he needed someone to pretend to be my girlfriend,” Louis gritted out.

“Not really,” Eleanor responded. “Just that you’d split up with your previous partner and they thought the publicity would be good for the band. You’d be the ‘boyfriend type’ or whatever.” Louis was stunned. He hadn’t considered how clueless Eleanor would be and he felt a bit bad for being so rude to her earlier. Still, she didn’t need to know anything more for now, so he decided to change the topic.

“So, you enjoying uni so far?” he invented randomly. Eleanor smiled widely and launched into a lengthy anecdote about her new flatmates and their interesting quirks.

***

“Hey gorgeous,” Louis said as Harry answered the phone. “You okay?” He was on his way back to his car, quite a bit later than he’d anticipated. Lesson one on Eleanor: she loved to chat.

“Hey babe,” Harry responded. “Yeah, fine. How did it go? What’s she like?”

“Yeah, she was alright,” Louis reasoned, unlocking the door of his Boxster and climbing in. “Chatty, but nice enough.”

“Not the monster you’d imagined then?” Harry chuckled and Louis rolled his eyes.

“Not exactly,” he acquiesced. “Actually, I feel a bit bad about all that now. Turns out Modest! like to keep all of their clients in the dark.” He quickly relayed his conversation with Eleanor to Harry.

“So she thought you were straight?” Harry laughed. “What did she say when you told her?”

“I didn’t tell her,” Louis replied, frowning. “Why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Harry retorted. “It’s not like she can say anything. Magee will have NDAs coming out of her ears.”

“But it’s not any of her business,” Louis said firmly. “She’s basically a total stranger. She doesn’t need to know anything yet.” Harry was silent. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just – we’ll talk more when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis said slowly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yep,” Harry said in an unusually airy voice. “I’ll see you in a bit.” And he was gone. Louis slid his phone into his pocket and started the ignition. He sensed a hurricane on the way.

Louis unlocked the door and stepped inside, throwing his keys into the little glass bowl Harry had bought for them in Sweden. He wandered into the kitchen where Harry was cutting up vegetables at the counter.

“Hey love,” Louis murmured as came up behind Harry, placing his hands on his hips and resting his chin on his shoulder. He had to stretch up onto his tiptoes to do it now. He remembered thinking that Harry would soon have a growth spurt the first time he met him and smiled at the memory. “Can’t believe you’re taller than me now. When did that happen, eh?” Harry hummed noncommittally but said nothing, continuing to chop carrots into disks.

“Haz, you okay?” Harry sighed, setting down his knife.

“Are you embarrassed of me, Louis?”

“What the fuck?” Louis exclaimed. He reached for Harry’s shoulders and spun him around to face him, hoping that his expression would convey some type of sense that his words definitely didn’t. “What are you talking about?” Harry closed his eyes for several moments, as though trying to compose himself, then looked at Louis sadly.

“Are you embarrassed by our relationship?” he repeated, his voice quiet but determined.

“No! What? How?” Louis was completely bewildered. “Why would you even ask that, Haz?”

“Because you seem pretty eager to hide it from Eleanor,” Harry replied. “It’s not like you have to worry about her telling anyone, but you just don’t want her to know and I don’t really understand why.”

“Because it’s none of her fucking business, Harry!” Louis exclaimed. “I’m not hiding it from her, I just don’t know the girl.”

“You know Nizam,” Harry retorted, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve known him since you were kids and he clearly didn’t have a clue there was anything between us.” Louis was stunned. He had no idea any of this was going on in Harry’s head.

“Haz, Nizam is a mate but he’s – well, he’s got some questionable views on things,” Louis explained, picking his words carefully. “I’ve been friends with him for so long that it doesn’t feel like I can just drop him, but he’s got some fucked up views on being gay. I just wouldn’t trust that he would keep it to himself, if I’m honest.”

“So it’s nothing to do with me?” Harry asked, his voice small.

“Jesus Christ, Haz,” Louis muttered, exasperated. “I feel like I do everything I can to show you how much I love you and it’s never enough. I don’t know what more I can do. Do you want me to write songs about it? Will that help?”

“Don’t mock me, Louis,” Harry mumbled, his eyes swimming. “I don’t want to feel this way either. It’s just hard not to feel insecure or jealous or whatever when you can’t even – I don’t know, Tweet about me or something.”

“We live together, for fuck’s sake!” Louis exclaimed. “Do you really need a Tweet to prove I love you when we get into the same bed every fucking night?” Harry winced at his words.

“I didn’t know it was such a chore for you,” he retorted, anger beginning to seep into his words.

“That’s not what I meant,” Louis backtracked quickly. “Harry, that came out wrong.” Harry brushed by him and stormed off towards their room. “Shit, Haz, come back. That’s not what I meant at all.” The door slammed and Louis cried out in frustration. “Fuck!”

Ten minutes later, Louis heard the bedroom door creak open from where he sat on the couch. He listened intently as Harry’s steps came closer before feeling his arms wrap around him from behind.

“I’m sorry, Lou,” Harry whispered, his cheek against Louis’. “I’m sorry for fighting with you.” Louis reached up to hold onto his forearms and turned his head to face him.

“Me too, Haz,” he replied. “I really didn’t mean it like that. Swearing makes things sound negative when they’re not meant to be. I need to stop doing it so much.” Harry choked out a small, watery laugh at that.

“I know you didn’t,” Harry assured him. “I think I was just worked up about the meeting with Eleanor and then the Nizam thing had been playing on my mind. I was being stupid. You show me how much you love me all the time; I couldn’t ask for more. Really.”

“You have to tell me when you’re worried about these things, Haz,” Louis murmured gently. “Like, I had no idea about Nizam and you were being so optimistic about the meeting. You can’t just bottle it up.”

“I know,” Harry replied sadly. “I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy. Like, I get so stupidly jealous and I know it’s not reasonable but I can’t help it. I don’t want to scare you off by being the obsessed boyfriend.”

“I’m obsessed with you, too,” Louis reminded him as he nuzzled against Harry’s cheek. “So I’ll understand.” Harry gave another small laugh.

“Lou, I don’t know if I’m going to deal with this Eleanor thing very well,” he confessed. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“Just talk to me, baby,” Louis said pleadingly. “Anytime you’re feeling unsure about us, let me know right away so I can tell you how much I love you, okay?” Harry nodded, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Come on, I’ll help you finish dinner.” Harry smiled and released Louis from his grasp, holding out his hand to him.

That night, while Harry was snoozing contentedly beside him, Louis reached for his phone and opened his Twitter feed. He looked at Harry and thought about how much he loved him, how thankful he was to have him, how much of an absolute dream it felt to call him his own. Smiling, he typed out his tweet:

@louis_Tomlinson: Sleeping to dream about you…

Chapter Text

“We’re in the paper,” Harry announced as he wandered into the kitchen. Louis looked up from the bowl of cereal he was pouring to see Harry hidden behind a tabloid.

“Oh yeah?” he questioned. “What’s it saying then?”

“That we’ve moved in together,” Harry’s dimpled smile appeared over the top of the newspaper as he folded it up and threw it onto the table, looking immensely satisfied.

“Finally some truth in one of these things!” He strolled over to Louis and kissed him, cupping his face in both his hands and pressing him against the kitchen counter. Louis was taken by surprise but quickly caught up, meeting Harry’s enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around his waist. He moaned lightly as Harry deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Louis’ mouth and caressing it against his own passionately. Louis felt a little dizzy and breathless when Harry slowed the kiss and they finally broke apart. 

“What was that for?” he breathed, gazing up at Harry whose face spoke total adoration for Louis. “Not that I’m complaining!”

“Just happy,” Harry shrugged. “Happy that they can’t hide this. That we have a home together. Our home.” He sounded so completely content that Louis couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve been my home for a long time, Haz,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss him again.

A knock sounded at the front door and Louis hurried down the hall to answer it.

“Alright, Tommo?” Niall greeted, wandering inside without invitation. Louis supposed it was probably fair; they were past the point of pleasantries now. “Where’s Haz?”

“Just in the living room,” Louis replied and Niall began to make his way towards the room. “Excited for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Niall exclaimed. “Gonna be a good one. What’s the craic, Haz?” He approached the couch and ruffled Harry’s curls before throwing himself down beside him.

“Hey Niall,” Harry smiled, attempting to smooth down his curls with minimal impact. “Happy birthday!”

“Oh shit, yeah,” Louis cut in. “Happy birthday!” Niall laughed at Louis’ panicked response.

“I’ll forgive you for forgetting that today’s the actual day, Tommo,” he reassured Louis. “At least you remembered tomorrow is the main event!”

“Sorry Nialler,” Louis said sheepishly. “I didn’t even think about it.”

“It’s gonna be class,” Niall exclaimed excitedly. “Can’t wait to have a proper night out! Legally and everything!”

“What’s the actual plan then?” Louis inquired, thankful as always for Niall’s laid-back nature. “Starting off at your flat presumably?”

“Yeah, we’ll have a few there and then head into town,” Niall nodded. “Simon rang me this morning to say that they’d booked the VIP lounge at Movida for us!”

“That’ll be wicked, lad,” Louis enthused. “Who’s all coming?”

“Well, I’ve obviously invited you lot and a few of the lads from home,” Niall replied. “But it sounds like Simon’s invited loads of people, too. Like the lads from JLS and the girls from The Saturdays are fine – I’ve met them at least. But sounds like he has asked a load of random people I don’t even know! He says it’s a good opportunity to 'network' and shit.” Niall rolled his eyes. “As if I want to work on my birthday. Not a chance!” He laughed easily and Louis and Harry joined in. “Sounds like he’s going to have photographers there too, so you’ll need to scrub up lads. Can’t have you embarrassing me by looking scruffy!”

“As if we would, Niall,” Harry scoffed. “We’ll be in our Sunday best for your big day!”

“Good to know!” Niall grinned. “So, what’s a birthday boy have to do to get an offer of lunch around here?” Harry leapt up immediately and scurried off to the kitchen in search of ingredients. Louis slid his phone from his pocket and began scrolling through his apps.

“Dominos?” he asked and Niall nodded happily.

***

“What about this?” Harry inquired, holding up a dark green shirt for Louis to inspect.

“Yeah, you’ll look hot in that, babe,” Louis smiled from the bed where he was sprawled out luxuriously. “The colour really suits you.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry grinned, a faint tinge of pink in his cheeks. “What are you thinking of wearing tonight?”

“Probably just that blue shirt and maybe those dark grey chinos,” Louis decided, not having given it an ounce of thought until that very moment. “Would that be okay?” Harry smiled, draping his shirt over the armchair and making his way over to the bed to join Louis.

“Absolutely,” he murmured, crawling towards Louis and straddling his hips. “You’ll look gorgeous. How am I meant to keep my hands off you?” He shifted forward to bring his lips close to Louis’.

“Better get it all out of your system now, then,” Louis responded coyly, cupping Harry’s ass firmly and closing the distance between their mouths. Louis sighed contentedly against Harry’s lips; their kisses always made him feel happy and at peace. Harry’s tongue danced playfully across Louis’ bottom lip before he drew it between his teeth, nipping it gently. Louis smiled into the kiss. It felt so safe and familiar – like home. He ran his hands up the curve of Harry’s back, tangling them in his hair and tugging ever so slightly. Harry responded beautifully, as he always did, moaning into Louis’ mouth. Louis felt his dick throb in response to those sensual little sounds and he rolled his hips up against Harry’s groin, searching for friction. He was rewarded by the feel of the familiar bulging ridge of Harry’s hard cock. Louis groaned loudly, immediately needing more. He moved his hands down to the front of Harry’s joggers.

“Can I?” he whispered and Harry nodded needily. Louis thrust his hand inside, grabbing hold of his dick eagerly. He couldn’t wait to get Harry how he wanted him: gasping, moaning, desperate for him. “Can we take these off, baby?”

“Yeah,” Harry gasped, rolling off Louis and yanking off the joggers while Louis did the same with his own. “Take your t-shirt off, too. Want to feel all of you on me.” Louis gladly obliged before helping Harry with his. Both kneeling on the bed, Louis surged forward to capture Harry’s lips once again, one arm thrown loosely around his shoulders, the other hand finding its way back into his mess of curls. He moaned as Harry’s arms enveloped his torso, pulling it flush with his own. Harry’s skin felt heavenly against his own: hot and soft and smooth. A jolt of pleasure shot through Louis as his dick brushed against Harry’s, creating a brief moment of glorious friction.

“Want to touch you, Lou,” Harry breathed against his lips. “Want to touch us both together.”

“Yeah?” Louis groaned, already excited by the idea. “Lube, Haz. Top drawer.” Harry released him and reached into the drawer, snatching up the pump bottle and dispensing a liberal amount into his right hand. Louis maintained his grip on Harry, pulling him back to him, desperate for his touch. “Touch me, baby,” he begged. “Please.” Harry cut him off with a kiss that was mostly tongue, finesse lots to arousal. Harry brought his hand to Louis’ waiting cock, gliding his slick hand up and down it in slow, even, tight pulls. Louis moaned at the sensation, his back arching. Harry shuffled closer, bringing his left arm around Louis waist as he loosened his grip on his cock. He brought his own dick parallel to Louis’ and wrapped his big, lube slick hand around them both. Louis loosened his grasp around Harry’s neck and looked down to take in the most erotic sight he had ever seen. Harry’s hand moved steadily up and down the length of their cocks. Louis watched, breathless and desperate, as precum dribbled from both of their slits simultaneously, swirling together on Harry’s next upward stroke. Louis felt dizzy with desire. He brought his mouth back to Harry’s ear, wanting desperately to make him come. He wanted to watch them come together. He wanted their cum to cover them both: messy and sticky and delicious.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured into Harry’s ear softly. “Your dick feels so good pressed against mine. So big, so unbelievably hard for me.” Harry moaned encouragingly and Louis continued. “I love that I can make you this hard. Love seeing your throbbing dick, so ready for me. Want to watch you come, Haz. Want to see come all over me. Do you know how much I love seeing you? Hearing the gasps and moans from your beautiful mouth. Feeling your fingers press into my skin, desperate for me. I need to see you come for me, Haz.” He could feel his own orgasm draw closer and closer, a familiar tightness low in his abdomen, building steadily. Harry moaned softly, his thighs shaking. He was close, too. “Come for me, baby,” Louis whispered, his own orgasm taking over and forcing panting breaths from his mouth. He looked down to see cum burst from Harry’s throbbing dick in time with his own. Cum coated their chests and stomachs as Harry’s hand slowed; he pulled Louis’ body closer as he released them both from his grasp, pressing sweet kisses into his neck and shoulder. Louis melted into Harry’s embrace, inhaling his scent and feeling satisfied and happy. They collapsed onto the bed, careful to avoid touching the duvet with the front of their bodies.

“Fucking unbelievable, baby,” Louis gasped. “That felt amazing.”

“Mmhmm,” Harry groaned weakly. “So good.” Louis smiled at how completely blissed out he sounded. He sat up to grab some tissues, cleaning up his own stomach and chest, before turning to Harry’s. He cleaned him off gently, pressing kisses into the his skin as he went; Harry hummed contentedly with each kiss. When he was done, he disposed of the tissues and returned to cuddle up into the nook of Harry’s arm.

“How have we not done that before?” Harry sighed, holding Louis close. “That was fucking great!”

“It was,” Louis agreed, chuckling. “A year and a half later and you’re still surprising me, Hazza.”

“Plan to do so for a long time,” Harry smiled, pressing soft kisses into Louis’ hair.

Their slow, blissful morning was followed by an equally languid and content afternoon. After a quick shower, Harry had gone downstairs in his robe to make them some lunch while Louis got ready. Louis reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted by the dulcet tones of Shania Twain coming from the kitchen. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when he followed the sound to find Harry singing his heart out to Still The One while he cut their sandwiches diagonally and artfully arranged some crisps at the side of each plate.

“You’re still the one that I love, the only one I dream of, you’re the still one I kiss goodnight,” he crooned passionately.

“You been dreaming about me again, Styles?” Louis questioned loudly enough to be heard over the music, making Harry jump and drop the crisp he was holding.

“Jesus, Lou,” he gasped, clutching his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sounds like your heart’s already in a fragile place,” Louis teased, indicating the speaker. “Or was this not meant to be a serenading situation?” Harry’s cheeks turned pink and he turned down the volume to a more conversation appropriate level.

“I just think it’s the most romantic song,” he mumbled, looking sheepish. Louis hurried over, putting his right arm around Harry’s waist and catching his hand in his own. Harry quickly caught on and they began to revolve slowly on the spot in time with the music.

“You’re an old romantic, H,” Louis murmured. “I love that about you. And I love this song.”

 They were quiet then, lost in the song and each other. As the final notes died, the softness was shattered by the jarring ringing of Louis’ phone. He sighed, kissing Harry’s cheek and releasing him as he reached into the pocket of his robe.

“Sorry, babe,” he muttered, glancing down at the screen. “It’s Simon.” Harry smiled reassuringly, motioning for him to go ahead while he returned to preparing lunch. Louis pressed the green button as he wandered into the living room.

“Hello?”

“Hi Louis,” came Simon’s voice, brisk and business-like as usual. “I’m just calling to let you know that we’ve arranged for the first photographs of you and Eleanor to be taken tonight, at Niall’s event. She’ll meet you there and you’ll leave together.” It took Louis several seconds to process what he was saying; it was just so far removed from the wonderful moments he had just spent with Harry.

“Wait, so she’s coming to Niall’s birthday?” he questioned.

“Well yes, the event is a celebration, but I’m sure Niall has explained that there will be a lot of people there for networking opportunities, too,” Simon corrected. “It’s an excellent chance to launch the relationship. Personal enough that you would expect partners to attend but with lots of exposure to the right people.” He sounded genuinely quite excited. It was sick.

“So Niall’s birthday becomes some sort of pathetic launch party for me and the woman I’m supposed to be seeing?” Louis demanded. “And what about Harry? Is he meant to just sit back and watch me pretend to be with her all night? That’s not fair.”

“No, I agree,” said Simon, much to Louis’ surprise. “I think it’s best if Harry doesn’t attend. He’s not eighteen yet anyway, so it makes sense for him to give it a miss.” Anger flared in Louis’ chest.

“That’s not what I meant,” he growled.

“Well, it amounts to the same thing,” Simon said dismissively. “Harry’s presence will only make things more difficult. He’ll be upset, you’ll be distracted, there’ll be stories about him being underage – best to pre-empt it all.”

“Niall is one of his best friends,” Louis exclaimed. “You expect him to miss his birthday so this random girl can go to it instead.”

“Oh Louis,” Simon sighed. “Are you really complaining that Harry doesn’t get to go to a birthday party? Come on now.” Louis knew exactly what Simon was doing. It was what he always did: he minimised and infantilised everything to do with Harry to make it seem like Louis was being immature by arguing about it. Louis hated it.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he has to miss out,” Louis said, trying his best to keep his voice calm and steady.

“Fair?” Simon questioned, his voice growing colder. “All we’ve asked of Harry so far is to mention Caroline as a celebrity crush ahead of her role in the Xtra Factor. That’s it. Is it fair that we’ve ignored you swooning over one another on Twitter about how much you miss each other after being apart for a day? Sweetcheeks and Baby cakes, wasn’t it?” Louis felt his face flush. “It takes time and money to try to shift focus from those things, Louis. We’ve let it go because you’d agreed to work with us on the relationship with Eleanor. But now you’re refusing. Explain how that’s fair.”

“I call everyone pet names,” Louis tried, already knowing that it wasn’t a convincing argument. “It doesn’t prove anything.”

“Not by itself it doesn’t,” Simon retorted. “But coupled with your behaviour at Leeds Festival, you announcing that you’d struggle to handle him at night and his off-camera requests to blow you, it all becomes significantly more difficult to deny.” Louis closed his eyes, defeated. “Do you know how many pictures there were from that festival? How many tabloids we had to pay off to prevent publication?” Shit. He thought they’d been okay. “I don’t think you appreciate just how thin the ice you’re skating on is, Louis. Now, Eleanor will be there this evening and I expect some good pap shots from you. Do you want to tell Harry or shall I call him?”

“I’ll do it,” Louis mumbled, resignedly. “I’ll explain.”

“Fine,” Simon concluded icily. “I’ll see you tonight.” The line went dead.

Louis spent several minutes sitting on the couch in silence, trying desperately to figure out a way to tell Harry without hurting him. It didn’t seem like such a thing existed. He heard soft footfalls approach and Harry appeared in front of him, crouched down between his legs.

“You okay, honey?” he asked softly. Louis shook his head and looked into Harry’s beautiful, concerned eyes. He took a deep breath and relayed his conversation with Simon to him. He stuck to it exactly; the time for sugar-coating seemed to be over. He couldn’t protect Harry from the truth anymore. By the time he had finished, Harry had moved to sit beside him, his hands both clutched in Louis’ own on his lap.

“I’m so sorry, H” Louis concluded. “It’s not even like I can refuse to go either.” Harry shook his head.

“No, that wouldn’t be fair to Niall,” he agreed, releasing Louis’ hands and collapsing back on the couch.

“Well, I more meant because of how pissed off Simon sounded,” Louis corrected him. “He kept talking about how I’m on thin ice and stuff.”

“Yeah, but he’s said that before,” Harry reasoned airily. “And he’s never actually done anything about it. Like you said, he obviously sees our tweets and stuff, but he’s not doing anything to stop it, so…” He shrugged, a defiant glint in his eye. “I think as long as you play his game with the Eleanor thing, he won’t be too bothered.”

“You think?” Louis asked, unconvinced.

“Yeah, why else wouldn’t he have said anything before now,” Harry continued. “I told you, Lou: I’ll do the things they insist on, but I’m not going to just make their job easier and be a good little boy.”

“Harry Styles,” Louis said in wonder. “The rebellious streak continues!” Harry grinned as Louis tugged at the belt of his robe, slowly pulling loose the knot. “I kinda like it.” The knot unravelled and Louis slid down from the couch and settled himself between Harry’s knees, his eyes glinting mischievously. “How about I give you something to think about later in case you’re missing me?” He suggested delicately, pushing open Harry’s robe to reveal his already semi-hard cock.

“Yes, please,” Harry breathed, gazing down at Louis, eyes filled with lust and longing. Louis smiled coyly up at him before lowering his mouth and taking him in with an appreciative groan. 

Chapter Text

Louis reached over to tuck a misplaced curl under Harry’s chef’s hat then adjusted his own.

“We should get you one of these for home,” he chuckled, gesturing towards the hat. “You could wear it at a jaunty angle while you make breakfast for me.” They were waiting to go on-air for the cooking segment of This Morning, talking quietly while people around them organised marks, props, lights and goodness knows what else. It was busy and chaotic, but Louis didn’t really notice. As usual, his focus was on Harry.

“You’re about to suggest I wear the hat and nothing else, aren’t you?” Harry whispered accusingly, but his smile gave him away. Louis raised his hands in mock defence.

“I didn’t say anything, Haz!” he exclaimed. “It was your mind that went there, not mine!” Harry laughed at his feigned innocence. He knew Louis too well to find it remotely believable. “I mean I wouldn’t complain obviously…”

“That’s a really good way to get some very painful burns, I would imagine,” Harry mused. “Although I suppose I could have an apron – “

“Okay boys, we’re ready for you,” called the director and they hurried over to their mark. Louis mentally tucked away the idea of naked Harry cooking for him for another time. It was definitely a conversation he wanted to revisit.

They began the segment with some promotion for the album, Ruth questioning them about release dates. Then they got down to business.

“So, how much cooking do you boys do? Any at all?” she asked doubtfully.

“Well, we live together and Harry does all the cooking,” Louis informed her, looping his arm around Harry’s waist. Ruth and Allison made impressed noises at the revelation and Harry proudly confirmed the claim.

“Yes, yes I do,” he announced, while readjusting his hat cockily. “I made these the other night actually.” He gestured at the ingredients on the table. Louis glanced down at them and hazarded a guess at fajitas, judging from the peppers and chicken. It was one of his favourites and Harry made it for him at least once a week.

“So you’re a novice then?” Ruth directed towards Louis, recapturing his attention.

“Well, I can do a good Pot Noodle, that’s about it,” he admitted, much to their amusement.

Allison launched into an explanation of what they were going to be making and Louis was soon lost. He caught ‘strips of chicken’ and ‘season it up’, but little else. Harry, on the other hand, nodded along, agreeing vehemently with her apparently unusual decision to add cinnamon. Louis played with the whisk he’d picked up, hoping that Harry would be able to help him with whatever Allison had in mind for his task.

“I want you to make some honey and mustard dressing,” she told them, rearranging bowls.

“Do I need this?” Louis asked, holding up his whisk, delighted when she said he would. She instructed Harry to pour in the olive oil while Louis whisked; Harry started to pour slowly and Louis panicked.

“How do I whisk?” he demanded in a hushed voice. Harry grabbed his hand and started to move it swiftly in small circles while continuing to pour simultaneously. Louis was impressed. Ruth began to make her way over, asking them each if they had their mobile phone on. Louis’ stomach lurched; his phone was nestled in his back pocket and presumably it had been interfering with the equipment. Louis owned up with an embarrassed smile and Ruth took it from his pocket, telling him off playfully as she did.

“Louis, you naughty boy,” she exclaimed, holding the phone up. “Ooh, who’s calling? That’s very saucy!” She pretended to read his messages and Louis glanced to the right, catching Harry’s eye. As clear as if he’d said it aloud, he could hear exactly what Harry was thinking. Oh, if only she could read what I sent you yesterday.

***

That night, all of the lads headed out to celebrate debuting at number one in the Irish charts. Niall was fiercely patriotic and the rest had all begun to think of Irish as a secondary nationality for them, supporting Ireland in rugby and celebrating St Patrick’s day enthusiastically. Louis acknowledged that these things weren’t exactly any great sacrifice on his part: the Irish team were phenomenal and Paddy’s Day (as Niall had instructed them to call it) was a great night out. Still, he considered it a testament to how much he considered Niall family when he felt just as proud of the song going to number one in Ireland as he would when it topped the English chart days later.

After a brief discussion with Paul, during which they persuaded him that nipping to the pub for a few pints required minimum security, they all got ready and met up at Niall’s flat. His place was smaller than Louis and Harry’s but equally as luxurious. However, it exuded distinct student energy due to the many film posters he had used to decorate. Louis was glad that Harry had taken the lead with their place. He’d talked a lot about it being a family home when they’d first moved in, giving Louis the impression that he had very specific décor ideas. As Louis’ knowledge of décor was about as advanced as his knowledge of cooking, he let Harry take full control, cheerfully offering his opinion anytime Harry asked and complimenting his choices frequently. The situation worked for both of them as Harry got to create the home he dreamt of and Louis got to live in a beautifully decorated house that he didn’t have to figure out how to decorate.

“Beer or vodka, Tommo?” Niall called from the kitchen as Louis settled himself on the couch between Harry and Zayn.

“Think I’ll stick with the beer tonight, Nialler,” he called back. “Don’t want to be hungover for the performance tomorrow.”

“That’s not ‘til the evening,” Niall said dismissively, strolling into the room with a beer in hand for Louis. “You’ll be well improved by then.” Louis shrugged and took the bottle with thanks. “Haz, Z, what can I get ye? – Oh that rhymed!”

“Same for me please, man,” Zayn said, flicking through the channels.

“Do you have any red, Niall?” inquired Harry. Niall paused to think before nodding.

“I think I have a bottle that was a housewarming present,” he said hesitantly. “Let me check for you.” He disappeared into the kitchen again and, after several minutes of cupboard doors being opening and shut, bottles clinking and liquid sloshing, he returned with a beer and half a bottle of red in the largest and fullest wine glass Louis had ever seen. Harry took it, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“Thank you, Niall,” he said sincerely. Louis loved that about Harry: he would never make Niall feel bad about not knowing something. Zayn on the other hand –

“Fuckin’ hell, man,” he crowed, taking in the gigantic serving of merlot. “Is he drinking it or having a bath in it?” Niall shrugged, unperturbed.

“I’m not a wine man meself,” he said lightly. “Better too much than not enough is my motto!” They all chuckled fondly at Niall’s distinctly unrufflable demeanour.

“Where’s Payno?” Niall demanded then. “He’s missing the craic!”

“I think he’s bringing Danielle,” Zayn explained. “So he’ll be with her. Maybe she’s not ready yet or something.” Just as Niall whipped out his phone to ring him, there was a knock at the door and Liam walked in, a pretty, curly haired brunette in tow. Louis had met Danielle a few times during their time on the show, but until Niall’s birthday a few days previous, he hadn’t really spoken to her at length. Wanting to make her feel at ease, he stood up and went to give her a hug.

“Alright love?” he smiled, pulling her into a cuddle and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Didn’t know you were coming tonight. Lovely to see you.” Danielle smiled and returned the pleasantries. She accompanied Louis back to the couch and they chatted easily while Niall fetched drinks for the new arrivals.

“Right lads – and lady obviously,” he announced once he had distributed the beverages. “A toast. To debuting at number one on the Emerald Isle, the Land of Saints and Scholars – “

“Get on with it, Nialler,” Louis interrupted. Niall was difficult to stop once he got on a roll about his beloved homeland.

“ – Sweet and beautiful Éire.” Niall ploughed on unabashed. “As ye know, the move over here has been tough, so I just want to take this chance to thank the four of you – not so much you now Danielle, I don’t really see you that often – but the four of you for making it easier to be away from home. Ye have all made me feel at home here and I hope this makes you feel just as at home in Ireland.” He raised his bottle and the others followed suit.

“Sláinte!”

***

Louis had been looking forward to the performance at G-A-Y for weeks. They had performed there in January before the XFactor tour, and it had been one of the most fun shows they had ever been part of. The club had a fantastic vibe and, perhaps because he felt more true to himself, he felt free there in a way he didn’t anywhere else. He couldn’t wait to get back to Heaven and take the stage again. Coupled with the safety he felt there, Harry’s words from several days ago still echoed in Louis’ head; was it possible that he was safe from Simon’s wrath as long as he played the Eleanor game? There hadn’t been any kickback from This Morning in spite of the focus on he and Harry living together. And surely debuting at number one in Ireland, England and Scotland would buy them some leniency. The bottom line for Simon was money, he knew that, so perhaps more success meant more freedom for them? He knew that there had been articles published just that morning about the band potentially breaking America which Simon must love to see – was now the best possible time to let loose and be himself? Louis couldn’t decide what was best, so he had three vodkas to settle his nerves and just went with the flow.

The performance was predictably incredible – Louis had never had so much fun. The club brought out not only one but two cakes to celebrate them: one for Niall’s birthday and one for their number one debut. Frankly, if they had expected anything other than a cake fight with five excited and slightly tipsy teenage lads , they were being incredibly naïve. Louis stood tall, chest puffed out, arms back, eyes closed and waiting as Niall smashed the cream creation into his face. Momentarily, he thought of the number of ‘Louis Tomlinson Enjoys Taking Sticky, White Mess in the Face’ headlines that would likely crop up in the coming days, but he found that he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Not when the room was full of people screaming his name, looking at him with adoration and encouraging him to be exactly who he was. He danced around the stage feeling free and as though he were so filled with happiness that it radiated from him. He and Harry shared flirty glances all night, brushing their fingers together as they passed one another and sharing whispered secrets about what they wanted to do to the other. And Louis didn’t feel even the tiniest bit guilty.

To finish off a fantastic night, he and Harry sneaked off to the toilets and within seconds, Louis was on his knees giving Harry the messiest, quickest, filthiest blowjob he ever had. Just like Simon had suggested he do all those months ago.

***

The following morning, Louis was awoken by the screech of his phone ringing; he tried to remember the last time that had heralded something positive. Simon. Definitely not positive.

“Hello?” Louis said quietly, unwilling to wake Harry.

“A car will be at your door at 9AM sharp,” Simon announced, his voice icy. Usually that didn’t happen until after Louis said something to piss him off. “It will take you to Heathrow where you’ll catch the 11:30AM flight to LAX. The driver has your boarding pass. Don’t miss it. Pack light, you won’t be here for long.”

“Wait, what?” Louis stammered. “Why am I going to LA? What’s going on?” But Simon had hung up. Okay, this was bad. Really, really bad. Louis climbed out of bed and checked the time on the way to the bathroom – 8:15AM. He showered and brushed his teeth quickly before returning and throwing a couple of clean t-shirts and a few pairs of underwear into a his grey Nike backpack. He’d said to pack light after all. Louis got dressed quietly and then sat down on the edge of the bed to wake Harry. He pushed his curls, wild with sleep, back from his forehead and placed a gentle kiss there.

“Hmmm, morning,” Harry groaned, his voice like syrup, as it always was in the morning. It was Louis’ favourite sound.

“Hey gorgeous,” Louis murmured, scratching his nails soothingly on Harry’s scalp. “Sorry to wake you, but Simon’s called and demanded I come to LA right away.” Harry’s brow furrowed as he tried to process what Louis was telling him.

“What, all of us?” he asked.

“No Haz, just me,” Louis replied, trying to hide his worry. “I don’t know why, he didn’t say. I don’t think it’s good though.”

“But when will you be back?” Harry say up, panic colouring his voice. “Is it something I’ve said or done? I’ve been so blatant about us lately. What if I’ve taken it too far?” His eyes swam with tears and Louis’ heart ached. He pulled him into a tight hug and rubbed small, comforting circles into his back.

“Stop, H,” he murmured. “It’s not you. It’ll be fine. Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

“But you don’t know what it is, Lou,” he mumbled, tears threatening to overflow. “How can you know it’ll be okay?”

“I know I don’t,” Louis reasoned. “But as long as I get back here and you’re waiting for me, it’ll be okay. Will you be waiting for me?”

“Of course,” Harry murmured. “I’d wait forever for you, I told you that when we first got together.”

“Exactly,” Louis smiled into Harry’s curls, remembering their first days together in Holmes Chapel. “So I have nothing to worry about, do I?”

Chapter Text

The flight to LAX was torturous. Louis continuously ran through potential reasons for the meeting in his head, each time coming up with new possibilities for Simon’s anger. Did someone see him and Harry in the club bathroom? Did someone from the show sell a story? Or had he simply had enough of Louis’ defiance and made the decision to cut him from the band altogether? Each option suddenly seemed equally possible and equally horrible. Louis spent the entirety of the eleven hour flight tormenting himself with questions; he didn’t sleep a wink. By the time he landed, he was an exhausted wreck of anxiety and he found himself desperately craving Harry’s touch to bring him back to normality. Just to have him there to hold his hand or press a kiss to his cheek would ground him. But he was alone. And just like he had done the first time he went to face Simon Cowell, he felt like a small child.

It was just after 3PM local time by the time Louis had made to the Arrivals hall. He quickly spotted a driver holding a ‘Tomlinson’ sign and made his way over.

“Hi, I’m Louis,” he said, holding out a hand. The driver shook it and smiled, looking around for a suitcase.

“No luggage, Mr Tomlinson?” he queried.

“I think I’m only here for a short trip,” Louis told him, anxiety whirling in his stomach, threatening to break free and paralyse him.

“Better get going then,” said the driver cheerfully, leading Louis out of the airport and to his shiny black Mercedes.

Louis had often associated the door of Simon’s office with fear, humiliation and frustration. He often thought of it as comparable to a Headteacher’s office door. He had felt the same about Harry Magee’s office door at Modest!. But neither of these were even half as terrifying as the imposing entrance of Simon’s LA house. The driver dropped him off, giving him a cheerful wave as he went, and Louis had made his way towards the door: too big, ostentations, imposing. Petrifying. He raised a hand and pressed the doorbell, trying to compose himself as he waited for Simon to answer. A unfamiliar woman answer the door, looking questioningly at Louis. A housekeeper. Of course Simon had a full-time housekeeper to answer his door for him. Louis tried to quell the burst of anger that rose at this. It was, firstly, unreasonable, but more than that, he needed to keep his calm as much as he possibly could during this meeting. Simon already had the upper hand with Louis’ ignorance, so he would have to work hard to keep his cool.

“Hi, I’m Louis, Simon’s expecting me,” he smiled at the woman who nodded and welcome him inside. 

“I’ll just let Mr Cowell know you’re here,” she told him, rushing off. Louis looked around the grand entrance hall, taking in the splendour that surrounded him. The house that lies bought, Louis mused bitterly. His attention was suddenly draw to the approaching footsteps echoing on the marble floors. Simon appeared from the hallway down which the housekeeper had gone wearing exactly what he always did: a white v-neck t-shirt and jeans. Maybe changes in climate didn’t impact those without souls.

“We’ll do this in my office,” he announced shortly, making his way towards an ornate double door off to the left of the entrance hall. Louis followed along silently, taking deep breaths as he went. In for five, out for five; just like Harry had taught him.

“So,” began Simon, as soon as they had sat down. “It’s finally come to this.” Louis gazed at him, bewildered. Any of the scenarios he thought of on the plane could be the cause of Simon’s ire, but he didn’t think making suggestions would be a particularly good idea, so he just stayed quiet. “I presume there was alcohol involved?” Now Louis was even more confused. “You’ve managed to rein it in a lot more effectively up until now, so I’m assuming a little Dutch courage was the catalyst. Well, are you going to say anything in your defence?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Simon,” Louis mumbled. “I don’t know what –“

“G-A-Y,” Simon spat, emphasising each letter with venom. “Prancing around like a fairy up there, letting the others smear cream frosting across your face – it was pornographic! Not to mention the little whispers and touches with Harry.” His eyes were flashing angrily and Louis felt genuine fear.

“I didn’t mean to,” Louis spluttered. “I wasn’t trying to act a certain way, I was just having fun. I just thought – “

“You didn’t think!” Simon exploded. “You found yourself surrounded by a room full of people you thought you could play it up to and you took full advantage. They’ll love the little twink act!”

“What?” gasped Louis, totally blindsided. “No, I didn’t think about it like that at all. I was just having fun.”

“Well your ‘fun’ might well cost the others their career,” Simon spat, his voice returning to normal volume now, his momentary loss of control behind him. “We have been working tirelessly for months to build an effective PR relationship for you and in the space of a single night you’ve destroyed it. All of the planning and preparation? Out the window so you could act like a – “ Louis’ eyes snapped up. In spite of his promises to himself, rage rose in his chest.

“Like a what, Simon?” he growled.

“You know perfectly well what,” Simon replied, not in the least perturbed by his implication. “Damage control is our focus for now. If we let this go, the media will have a field day. I can buy silence from a few, but others are not so willing. You’re not enough anymore, Louis; we need to bring Harry in, too.” Louis’ heart began to pound wildly, fear overwhelming him.

“No, please,” he begged, all pretence gone. “I’ll do better with the Eleanor stuff. I’ll act straight. Please.”

“It’s too late,” Simon reiterated, seemingly unaffected by Louis’ emotional outburst. “I assume you’ve seen these?” He held up several British tabloid prints, each detailing the story of One Direction’s imminent success across the pond. Louis nodded. “This is all going to go away, Louis. I can’t make it work with what you’ve given to me so far.”

“But I thought you said Columbia was interested?” Louis mumbled, the familiar feeling of horrible, clawing guilt almost choking him.

“They are,” Simon replied. “But the American market is tougher than the British one. You’re talking very Conservative Christian values for a huge section of your fanbase. There’s no way it could work. I hoped that we’d be able to keep things with you and Harry quiet and give the rest of them a chance, but clearly that isn’t going to happen.” Louis felt tears in his eyes now. He’d ruined it for them. His stupid desire to defy. And he’d made Harry do it, too. That was even worse somehow.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Louis choked out, trying his very best to keep his voice steady.

“I just don’t see what, I’m afraid,” Simon sighed, shaking his head. “As I said, the only possible option would be if we could quash the rumours through Harry. But I know how you feel about that, so I doubt it’d work.”

“It’s not about me,” Louis said, confused. “It’s Harry. I can’t watch Harry go through that. It would destroy him.”

“I don’t think you’re giving Harry enough credit, Louis,” Simon countered. “He’s grown up a lot over the past year. He can handle more than you think. Especially for the sake of you and the other boys.” Louis considered what he’d said. He was right in that Harry had matured exponentially in the eighteen months Louis had known him. But he was still the same sensitive, emotional, vulnerable Harry underneath it all. Still the same Harry who needed constant reassurance and affection, the same Harry who sang to Shania Twain with his whole heart, the same Harry who cried every time he watched The Notebook. Louis loved that Harry with every single fibre of his being and would do anything to protect him, to make him happy.  He thought back to the fight they had had after Louis’ first meeting with Magee, when he found out about Eleanor. Harry had been hurt that Louis had tried to take everything on himself, that he hadn’t let Harry help. Would he feel the same about this? Maybe – and it pained him more than anything to say it – Simon was right. Maybe, as much as Louis placed Harry on a pedestal, he still managed to underestimate him. And what kind of partner did that make him? He believed Harry could do anything he put his mind to – why not this?

“What would he have to do?” Louis asked, dreading the answer, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Nothing much more than you,” Simon said lightly. “We’ve seeded the connection with Caroline, so we might develop that.”

“Caroline Flack?” Louis asked, incredulous. “Simon, she’s old enough to be his mother! I thought it had to be believable.”

“You’d be surprised at how women in their thirties and forties view themselves,” Simon told him. “It would unlock an entirely new target market for you.”

“But what would he have to do?” Louis pressed.

“A couple of dates and few tweets,” Simon responded airily. “Nothing he can’t handle. I’ve also thought about perhaps introducing a few new people to his public social circle too. Nothing romantic, just friends. Just a few people to make him seem older, more mature, so the Caroline story fits.” Louis nodded thoughtfully. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s not up to me, Simon,” Louis clarified. “You need to speak with Harry. It’s his life. I’ve agreed to the PR relationship and I’ll do what I need to do, but anything beyond that is up to Harry.”

“Fine, I’ll set up a meeting when you’re all out here,” Simon decided.

“Can I come with him?” Louis asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“No, I don’t think so Louis,” Simon smiled without an ounce of feeling in his eyes. “I think it would be better if Harry and I sat down alone.”

***

Louis reached London in state of tiredness that, hitherto, he hadn’t known existed. He dragged himself from the cab and up the stairs to their flat. Sliding his key into the lock, he felt an tremendous sense of relief that he was finally, finally home. The door opened to the familiar scent of Harry’s favourite autumnal candle. Louis had no idea what it was, but it smelled soft and sweet and overwhelmingly welcoming. He lugged himself to the kitchen, the source of the mellifluous sound of Harry’s voice, singing softly to the radio.

“Hazza,” he croaked tiredly.

“Louis!” Harry cried, launching himself at Louis and wrapping his legs around his waist as though he hadn’t seen him in weeks. Louis briefly considered how miraculous it was that he didn’t drop him given his current state of fatigue, but all thoughts quickly left his mind as he closed his eyes and breathed in vanilla, soap and sandalwood. He was safe. He was home.

***

After a good night’s sleep, Louis had tried his best to relay the conversation with Simon to Harry. He included everything he could remember, but he didn’t think it was possible to effectively convey the fear he’d felt at the prospect of ruining the careers of Harry, Niall, Zayn and Liam. Harry had agreed that he would do his part to make the arrangement work and he waited expectantly for the call from Simon – but it didn’t come. Instead, something much more unnerving happened.

“Lou, something weird is happening with my Twitter,” Harry complained as he strolled into the living room later than evening.

“What d’you mean, babe?” Louis asked, draining the bottle of beer he’d been cradling for nearly an hour while he watched the football highlights.

 “Well it, like, signed me out and then I had all these random sign-in emails,” Harry explained, throwing himself down beside Louis and bringing his legs across his lap. “Now it’s saying I need to reset my password, but it won’t let me.”

“Weird,” Louis agreed, opening his own Twitter to see if it was a problem with the app. “Um, Haz, have you tweeted anything this evening?”

“Nothing, why?” Harry replied. Louis held up his phone and showed Harry his screen.

Harry_Styles: @carolineflack1 @thisistimdean it’s too late.. #yourmumwouldloveme

“I didn’t post that!” Harry gasped. “I’ve only posed with that stupid sign they made me. I’ve not even spoken to her!”

“I know, babe,” Louis soothed. “I know you haven’t. I thought something like this might happen. The Social Media team have our logins, remember? It was only a matter of time before they started interfering.”

“But they’re pretending to be me!” Harry exclaimed, outraged. “They can’t do that!”

“Babe, they can do whatever they want,” Louis mumbled, rubbing his shin to try to calm him down. “We’ve seen what they can do. We’re not in control of our social media anymore. We’re not in control of anything anymore.”

***

The following day, Louis found himself being dragged along to the GQ awards at the Royal Opera House. Simon had called them earlier in the day, telling them that they needed to be there and that there would be a stylist arriving at Princess Park within the hour to get them suited up. Louis noted the change in Simon’s approach since G-A-Y; he had previously tried to maintain a thin veil of affability, but that seemed to have disappeared entirely over the last few days. Louis found himself wondering what had happened. The more he considered their meeting, the more confused he had become. He’s watched back videos of the performance and he could acknowledge that yes, he absolutely seemed – flamboyant. But no more so than in his first audition. Or when he and Harry had been interrupted by the film crew while Harry had him pressed against a wall and they’d given an interview with Harry’s hand still pressed to the wall above Louis’ head, trapping his body. Or when they had been put into a group and Harry had lifted Louis and he’d wrapped his legs tightly around his waist. Or, frankly, and other of the countless number of times he and Harry had been unbelievably obvious about their relationship. Why had this been the tipping point for Simon? Had it been a tipping point for him or for someone else? Louis was both intrigued and hesitant to consider Simon’s motivations. Ultimately, he decided, Simon was a prick and that was that.

Even though they had been to multiple events since finishing the tour, Louis still wasn’t quite used to the pomp and circumstance that came with a red carpet. It felt very strange to get all suited up and stand in front of a barrage of cameras and people asking dozens of questions as the same time. If he were to be totally honest, Louis couldn’t decide if he liked or hated it. Regardless, he fulfilled his red carpet obligation and the five of them soon found themselves at a large round table with a glass of champagne being thrust into each of their hands. Gradually, the others wandered off to find more drinks and food until just he and Harry remained.

“I’m just going to nip to the bathroom,” Harry said, getting up and giving Louis’ shoulder a quick squeeze as he passed him. Louis leaned into the touch before getting out his phone to entertain him until the others returned. Moments later, a large arm secured itself around Louis chest and a familiar voice spoke in his ear.

“Alright there, young Tomlinson?” Louis grinned when he realised that it was James Corden who had grappled him into the uncoordinated cuddle. He extracted himself and jumped up to give him a proper hug.

“Alright mate!” he exclaimed happily, clapping his back affectionately. “Didn’t realise you’d be here.”

“Sharing a table no less!” James exclaimed jovially, grinning at Louis. “I’ve really moved up in the world now that I’m consorting with ‘Britain’s Biggest Boyband’.”

“Give it a rest,” Louis laughed, not remotely perturbed by James’ teasing. He’d known him for so long that he often thought of James as a distant uncle that he occasionally came across at family reunions. “How’s your night going? Jules with you?”

“Yeah, she’s around here somewhere,” James replied, glancing around the room as they both took their seats at the table. “She loves these things. Champagne on tap and gets to see what everyone’s wearing – absolute dream for her!” Louis chuckled. “How’s Jay?” Louis appreciated that James always asked about his mum when he saw him; they’d worked together briefly, years before.

“Yeah, she’s good,” Louis told him. “Busy with the girls, as always. She’s still working as a midwife too, so she’s got a lot on. Did I tell you that she and Mark split?”

“Oh shit, man,” James replied, looking genuinely concerned. “Sorry to hear that. How’re you feeling about it?” Louis shrugged. He didn’t really know how he felt about it. Mark was the only dad he’d ever really known but, since the split, biology seemed to matter where it never had before. Louis didn’t know if it was a betrayal to his mum to maintain his relationship with Mark, and not being at home only made the situation more difficult to figure out.

“I think I knew it was coming for a while,” Louis admitted. “I feel a bit caught in the middle, especially not actually being there. Mum seems to be coping fine, but I don’t want her to feel like I’m taking sides or anything. It was just me and her for so long.”

“I know, mate,” James nodded sympathetically. “But Jay just wants you to be happy. She’ll support whatever call you make, you know that. Remember the threatening texts she sent me about keeping you safe in London?” They both laughed as they recalled Jay’s panicked texts to James asking him to make sure Louis hadn’t been abducted or starved to death or been hit by a train during his first few weeks in London. She’d been so worried, but James had graciously taken on the role of surrogate parent, inviting Louis over for dinner and checking in with him often.

“They weren’t threatening!” Louis exclaimed. “They were just… strongly worded.”

“And now I’ve ended up looking after two of you!” James responded in mock outrage. “I’m surrogate mother to two teenagers at 33 – not how I saw my life going!” As if on cue, Harry appeared, holding a glass of champagne in one hand and canapé in the other. He hunkered down between their two seats, apparently keen to be hidden.

“That old woman keeps asking for my number,” he muttered in an undertone, indicating an impeccably dressed middle-aged woman across the room. James burst out laughing.

“You’re in demand now, Haz,” he told him. “All the middle-aged women will be after you!” Harry grimaced and handed the canapé to Louis.

“Got this for you, babe,” he smiled. “Thought you might be hungry.”

“Ah, young love,” James grinned. “If you see Jules, remind her that I also get hungry and wouldn’t say no to canapé service. Can’t imagine you’ll get much of a response, but it’s worth a try.”

“How’s the play going, James?” Harry asked, keen to steer the conversation away from his elderly fan club. He pulled out the chair on Louis’ other side and plonked himself down.

“Great!” James exclaimed, face lighting up. “It’s been brilliant. Really pleased with the reception so far. So, when can we expect you two over for family dinner again? I think Jules is missing you.”

“We’re going to the States in a few days, and then Sweden, Italy, Germany and Holland after that, but we have some free time in the middle of October,” Louis reeled off, trying to picture the very full calendar Harry insisted on hanging on their fridge. “We could organise something for then.”

“The busy life of teenage heartthrobs, eh?” James teased. “Well, we’re always glad to see you, so just give us a shout when you have some time.”

“This seat taken, Mr Styles?” The three of them turned around to see Nick Grimshaw indicating the chair beside Harry.

“You need to update those chat up lines, Grimmy,” James laughed and the other three joined in.

“I know,” sighed Nick, sitting down. “No wonder I’m still single.”

“What happened to the lad I saw you with at Bumpkin?” James queried.

“Oh, that,” Nick rolled his eyes. “Very much a one-time only experience, my darling. I was in the carnival mood, my inhibitions were lowered.” Louis and Harry looked one another, the conversation lost on them.

“Ah, you’re only young once, Grim,” James winked at him. “Enjoy it while you can.”

“Always do,” Nick responded smoothly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. He turned his attention to Louis and Harry. “Speaking of enjoying your youth, how come I haven’t seen you two frequenting London’s many haunts?”

“I’m not eighteen yet,” Harry explained, looking a little embarrassed.

“So?” Nick challenged. “Age is but a number! Besides, you’re Harry Styles. They wouldn’t dare turn away Harry Styles!” If Harry hadn’t been blushing before, he certainly was now.

“I wouldn’t want to risk it,” he mumbled. “It’d be so embarrassing to be turned away.”

“Aw baby Haz!” Nick cooed and something between anger and jealousy reared up in Louis’ chest at the nickname. “I’ll tell you what, stick your number in there and I’ll take you out with my Primrose Hill crew one of these nights. I promise you won’t have a problem getting in anywhere.” Harry took the phone and typed in his number. Louis took a gulp of his champagne to distract himself as he felt his stomach tighten. “Honestly, you’ll love London nightlife. There’s nowhere like it!” Harry smiled and thanked Nick for his kind offer, but he waved him off. “Not at all, you’ll get on so well with Pixie, Alexa and Daisy, too. They’re hilarious!” Louis wondered how Nick would possibly know who Harry would get on with, given that he didn’t even know him, but he kept that thought to himself as Harry looked excited at the idea of making new friends. He glanced sideways at James who was now chatting animatedly with Rob Brydon. In spite of the crowd of people that filled the huge event room, Louis suddenly felt very, very alone.

Chapter Text

Flying into JFK along with the four other lads turned out to be an exponentially more enjoyable experience than flying into LAX alone. For one thing, Louis didn’t have the overwhelming dread that he was about to be kicked out of the band for the entirety of the trip. For another, he and Harry were in the conjoined middle seats, the side partitions of which could be extended to give them some much appreciated privacy; Louis silently thanked Richard Branson for his ingenuity. As the remaining passengers boarded, he settled in for the seven hour flight, feeling relaxed and happily contemplating what Lake Placid would be like. They were going to shoot the video for Gotta be You, and from Louis’ brief research, the place looked beautiful, especially in the autumn. Beside him, Harry snorted, eyes on his phone screen.

“What’s entertaining you, Hazza?” he asked with a smile.

“Oh nothing,” Harry responded, looking up. “Just a text from Nick. He’s actually so funny.”

The familiar flare of jealousy emerged in Louis’ chest, but he immediately chastised himself. Harry could have friends that Louis didn’t know. Of course he could. Louis wasn’t that person – that insane, jealous boyfriend who didn’t like his partner talking to other lads. He always thought those people were pathetic and insecure, too immature to be in relationships in the first place. So he swallowed down the unpleasant emotion and smiled.

“Yeah, he seems like a nice lad,” he said, hoping it sounded genuine. “What’s he saying that’s got you cracking up?”

“It’s just about something that happened last night while he was out with Alexa,” Harry responded vaguely. “He met this guy and – well, it’s a long story, but he made a bit of an idiot of himself.” Louis felt a small wave of satisfaction at the idea of Nick striking out romantically, but immediately quelled it.

“Oh dear,” Louis smiled. “Sounds like he’s not having much luck on the romantic front from what he was saying.”

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Harry mused. “Like he’s such a nice guy and fun to be around. No idea why he’s single. Just not ready to settle down yet, I guess.”

“Isn’t he quite a bit older than us though?” Louis asked and Harry shrugged.

“Dunno, late twenties I think,” he guessed. “He says he’s still got a lot of mistakes that he needs to make and he intends on making some of them several times.” Harry chuckled at Nick’s apparent wit.

“Sounds like he’s after a good time,” Louis muttered, hoping that he was managing to hide the judgement in his voice while privately thinking that Nick sounded like a twat. Luckily, Harry seemed oblivious.

“Yeah, he’s fun,” he smiled, sliding his phone into his pocket and reaching for Louis’ hand. His hands dwarfed Louis’ now and he reached his thumb to stroke softly against the back of Louis’ hand easily. Although it felt comforting and normal, Louis couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something about Nick that just didn’t sit right with him.

***

After two days of shooting, their director, John, was satisfied that they’d managed to get enough footage to send off to the editing team so they could work their magic. The lads were in good spirits as they headed to dinner to celebrate. Simon had told them that he would be joining them, but they were halfway through their mains by the time he arrived.

“Good evening, boys,” he smiled, taking a seat and signalling to a waiter to bring him a menu. “How did it go today?”

“Really good,” Liam enthused. “John said we got everything he needed so he’s going to send it off to the editing team now.”

“Fantastic,” Simon replied, taking the menu from the waiter without acknowledging him. “I have some meetings set up for tomorrow, including one for all of us with Columbia. So, I think it goes without say that you’re looking to put your best foot forward with that.” They all nodded solemnly and Harry glanced worriedly at Louis while Simon perused the menu. “Harry, you and I need to make some time to discuss a few issues tomorrow as well.” Simon looked up to meet Harry’s anxious gaze. “Why don’t I send a driver to pick you up tomorrow morning and we can have an early meeting before linking up with the others at the Columbia offices?” Harry nodded, looking terrified.

“We could all come so we don’t have to take separate cars,” Louis tried, knowing that his attempts were pointless before he had even finished his sentence.

“No need, Louis,” Simon cut in smoothly. “This only really concerns Harry, so the rest of you can have a nice lie in. I’m sure you’re probably still a bit jet-lagged.” He caught the waiter’s eye and signalled that he was ready to order, making it clear that the topic had come to a close. “So, why don’t you tell me all about shooting. Isn’t John a brilliant director?”

***

Louis fidgeted nervously, his eyes darting to the large glass doors every few seconds. The other three chattered excitedly as they took in the hallowed surroundings of Columbia Records headquarters. Ordinarily, Louis would have been the same, but he couldn’t focus until he saw Harry and knew he was okay. After what seemed like forever, Simon came strolling through the door with Harry trailing behind him. Immediately, Louis zeroed in on the reddened puffiness around Harry’s eyes and leapt up, overcome by the need to comfort him. Although Simon glared threateningly at him, it was Harry’s almost imperceptible shake of his head that stopped Louis in his tracks. He gazed intently at Harry, willing him to communicate wordlessly, as they so often seemed able to do, but Harry continued to look down, avoiding his gaze.

“Good morning, boys,” Simon chirruped, as though his exchange with Louis hadn’t occurred. “Let’s go up, shall we?” Louis attempted to shuffle closer to Harry several times, but Simon stayed determinedly between them as they took the lift up to the third floor. When they entered the office, Simon directed them each to a specific chair, with Niall and Zayn between him and Harry. The two men opposite them introduced themselves as Rob Stringer and Steve Barnett, but throughout the rest of the hour-long meeting, Louis barely registered a single word. He was worried sick about Harry, trying to catch his eye continuously, but to no avail. He was asked several direct questions, each of which he needed repeated and he still couldn’t have relayed any of the meeting’s content once it was over. They each shook hands with Steve and Rob and thanked them for their time before making their way out of the office and down to the foyer.

“Well, I think that went very well,” Simon said with a satisfied smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we hear from them in the next few days.” Niall, Zayn and Liam exchanged excited looks and grinned delightedly. “So, there’s a car waiting for you just outside. I’ll see you all once we’re back in London.” Harry had already made to leave and Louis went to catch up to him while the others thanked Simon. “My pleasure, boys. Louis, could I see you a second?” Louis paused and doubled back, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He looked expectantly at Simon as the other three followed Harry to the waiting car. “I was going to email you but since you’re here anyway: you have a scheduled photograph opportunity with Eleanor on Saturday. The tour tickets drop on Saturday morning and we’re hoping it will give sales a push. It’s quite literally a walk in the park with her, so I assume there won’t be any complaints. I’ll email over the particulars tomorrow.” Louis barely had time to react before Simon strode off, leaving Louis alone once again.

***

Following a very quiet flight, Louis and Harry finally reached the safety of home. Harry hauled his case up to their room and stalked off to have a shower without saying a word. Louis’ mind was in overdrive; he had never seen Harry like this and he didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t had a moment alone since their meeting, so they couldn’t talk and Harry didn’t seem particularly receptive to the idea anyway. Louis had tried to catch a quiet word when they got back to the hotel, but Harry had brushed him off, indicating that he didn’t want to talk in front of the others. He had resolved to speak to him on the flight, but they found themselves sitting separately. Even in the cab home, Harry had put his head on the pillow he carried with him for flights, apparently asleep. Louis was distraught. Every rejection from Harry felt torturous, not because he was upset for himself but because he knew Harry was hurting. That much was undeniable. Feeling as though he was out of other options, Louis decided to tackle it head-on. No other people, no separate seats, no sleeping. He hurried up to their ensuite and rapped on the door.

“Haz, can I come in, please?” he asked, feeling desperate.

“Yeah,” came a hoarse croak. Louis opened the door and was confronted by the most heart wrenching sight he had ever witnessed: Harry sat naked on the tiled floor of their walk-in shower, his knees drawn tightly to his chest between crossed arms, on which his head rested, face hidden. His shoulders shook with sobs as a steady stream of water rained down on him. For the first time in a long time, Louis thought he looked small. Not remotely concerned that he was still fully clothed, Louis went to his boy, kneeling beside him and wrapping him tightly in his arms.

“Haz,” he murmured, pressing kiss after kiss into his hair. “My Hazza. Don’t cry, baby. Please. I love you. I love you so much. Please.” He knew his words weren’t making any sense but he wanted desperately to say anything that might stop Harry from hurting. He rubbed his back as he murmured the words and slowly, ever so slowly, Harry’s breath began to even out and he lifted his head. His beautiful eyes were swollen and held so much pain, Louis thought he would dissolve into tears himself. But he couldn’t. Harry needed him. Louis stood and reached for Harry’s shampoo, conditioner and shower gel, placing them on the tiled floor. He then grabbed the shower head and settled himself behind Harry, still fully clothed, one leg either side of him. Ever so gently, he tipped Harry’s head back and started to soak his curls under the gush of water, running his free hand through to make sure the hair was saturated. Leaving the shower head to the side, he tipped some of Harry’s shampoo into his hand, the familiar vanilla scent making his chest ache even more. He massaged the shampoo in slowly, caressing Harry’s scalp until it lathered up, then he rinsed it out with care. Louis carried on with each step of Harry’s normal shower routine, the one he had watched him complete dozens of times. As he worked, he whispered to Harry how much he loved him. He told him his favourite things about him, one by one. He recalled all his favourite memories of them together and everything he wanted them to do in the future. He continued until he the last of the suds rinsed down the drain, then he helped Harry to his feet and reached for the large fluffy white towel that had been warming on the radiator. He wrapped it around Harry’s shoulders and used it to pat his torso dry before securing it around his waist. He then used a second towel to gently squeeze the excess water from his hair. All the while, Harry stood, as if in a daze. Throwing the sodden towel into the hamper, Louis looped his arm around Harry and walked with him in the bedroom, sitting him on the bed and hunkering down between his legs so their faces were level. Harry looked up at Louis, waiting for him to start the conversation; he was exhausted.

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed. “We can talk tomorrow. Just rest now.” Relief washed over Harry’s face as Louis turned down the bedsheets for him to climb in. As soon as he was tucked in, Louis stood to leave, but Harry grabbed his hand.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and crackly from lack of use. Louis nodded and peeled off his sodden clothes. He quickly dried himself off with Harry’s discarded towel and climbed in beside him, flicking off the lights and holding him close. Louis felt Harry relax into his hold and soon his breathing evened into soft snores.

 Louis woke the following morning to Harry still sound asleep. He crept his way out of bed and downstairs to make them both a cup of coffee – he suspected they might need it to get through the impending conversation. Harry was just stirring when he returned to their bedroom and took the cup gratefully from him.

“Thank you, Lou,” Harry whispered. He still looked tired and sad, but he was no longer crying and he was actually looking at Louis now, unlike yesterday. Harry reached out his hand and Louis took it keenly, craving his touch. He sat down in the bed, facing Harry, ready to discuss everything. “Have you been dealing with it all this time?” Louis frowned at him, unsure exactly what he meant. “Simon. The threats. Telling you that you’re going to destroy everything for everyone. Making you agree to things. Taking away all of your options until you do.” His voice was so small, so lifeless. The ache returned to Louis’ chest once again. He nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“This,” Louis said simply, gesturing towards Harry. “I thought if I could keep him at bay, he wouldn’t get to you. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you. I thought I could avoid this.” Harry closed his eyes and bowed his head, but kept a tight hold on Louis’ hand, their fingers knotted together. “I’m so sorry, Harry.” Harry’s head snapped up and he gazed at Louis, brow knitted.

“No, I’m sorry, Lou,” Harry said, voice growing stronger now. “I’m sorry you’ve been going through this alone. I’m sorry I didn’t come with you to every meeting. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you the way you’ve been protecting me all this time.”

“We shouldn’t have to,” Louis said, shaking his head determinedly. “Neither of us should have to. None of this is fair or right. They’ve backed us into a corner and now we’re stuck.” Harry nodded sadly. “What did he say to you?”

“Caroline,” he replied, voice hollow. “They want to use it to publicise the show while it’s on, so until Christmas at least.”

“Did he say what you’d have to do?” Louis asked, dreading the answer; his reaction the day before spoke to more than a few tweets and a photo op.

“I have to – “ tears began to well again and Louis squeezed his hand encouragingly. “I have to, like, stay at her house and she has to stay here and stuff.”

“What? Why?” Louis demanded, outraged.

“He said they wanted to ensure that it was considered a ‘mature relationship’,” Harry mumbled. “Which I think translates as they want to make it seem like we’re sleeping together.” Every part of Louis wanted to yell and throw things, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to upset Harry more. He breathed deeply for several moments, focusing on Harry. “I know it’s not real, Lou, but I don’t want to even pretend that anyone else gets to have that part of me.”

“I know, love” Louis murmured, reaching up to hold his face, tracing his thumb across his cheekbone. “I know you don’t. I don’t either.”

“I don’t understand why sex even has to come into it,” Harry continued. “Like, there’s been no mention of that kind of thing with Eleanor, has there?” Louis shook his head. “So why is it a thing for me?”

“I have no idea, baby,” Louis said sadly, wishing he had a reason for Harry. “When is it starting?”

“We have to arrange a dinner after we get back from Amsterdam,” Harry told him. “I suppose I’ll find out more closer to the time.” Louis suddenly remembered his own chat with Simon. He’d been so distracted by Harry that he’d completely forgotten about it.

“Haz, I have to do a photo thing with Eleanor on Saturday,” he explained softly, worried he’d upset him again. “We have to go to a park or something.” Harry nodded, looking defeated. “Do you want to maybe plan something with the lads for the day so you’re not alone? I don’t want you at home worrying.”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged. “Doubt it’ll make me feel much better about my boyfriend being on a date with someone else.”

“I’m so sorry, Haz,” Louis mumbled, feeling guilty.

“No, no,” Harry rushed out. “That wasn’t aimed at you! I’m just mad at them. Not you, never you. How could I be mad at someone who does what you did for me last night? I’d still be curled up in the corner of the shower without you.” He laid his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“I’d do anything for you, baby,” Louis said truthfully. “You know that, don’t you?” Harry nodded.

“Me, too,” he whispered.

Chapter Text

Louis woke on Saturday morning with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. The thought of posing for pictures of a pretend date in the park was not something he had ever imagined himself doing. Much less for those pictures to be published for the world to see, including his very lovely boyfriend who, admittedly, struggled with jealousy. All in all, it wasn’t a great start to Louis’ weekend, and things did not improve much from there.

“Morning babe,” Louis smiled as he walked into the bedroom, cups of coffee in hand. Harry looked up from his phone and put out his hands to take his cup gratefully.

“Thanks honey,” he mumbled, still not fully awake. Louis set his cup down on his bedside table and clambered back into bed, settling into the comfortable warmth.

“What time do you have to go?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“About one I think,” Louis replied. “I’m waiting to get confirmation from Simon. You’ve made plans, I hope.”

“Yeah, I have,” Harry assured him, indicating his phone.

“Good,” Louis said, relieved. “Don’t want you sitting around here thinking about it and getting upset.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry sighed sadly. “I’m going to go shopping with Nick in a bit.” Louis’ head snapped up.

“Nick?” he asked, surprised. He knew that he and Harry had exchanged a few texts, but didn’t know they had any plans to meet up.

“Yeah, he needs some new clothes, so he asked if I wanted to come with,” Harry explained. “Thought it’d be a good distraction from everything.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Louis replied, hoping he sounded convincing. “That sounds like fun. So, have you been speaking a lot then?” He sipped from his too hot coffee, hoping that he seemed interested rather than jealous.

“A bit,” Harry shrugged. “He’s been asking me to come out with him and his mates, too.” Louis’ stomach swirled uneasily, but he nodded and gave Harry a tight smile.

“Sounds fun,” he offered.  

“Yeah, maybe when we’re less busy,” Harry reasoned. “Besides, I’m not exactly a party animal, Lou.” Louis smiled fondly and set his coffee down so he could draw Harry into a cuddle.

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, kissing Harry’s temple softly. “We’re definitely more a cosy night in than wild night out pair, aren’t we?” Harry nodded into Louis neck before extracting himself and returning to his coffee.

“So, do you know what you have to do for this?” Harry questioned, looking uncomfortable.

“Not really,” said Louis. “Just make it look like a date, I suppose.” Harry’s gaze fell to the cup nestled in his hands.

“You’re not going to have to kiss her or anything?” he asked quietly.

“Fuck no,” exclaimed Louis. “I’m not doing that. I’ll hold her hand, but that’s as far as I’m willing to take it.” Harry looked up, relief written across his face.

“Promise?” he asked, voice still small.

“I promise, baby,” Louis responded, stretching over to kiss him tenderly. “Only for you, okay?” Harry nodded, pacified by the certainty in Louis’ response. “Thank you for bringing it up rather than just worrying about it and letting it build up. I’m so proud of you.”

“I promised I would after last time,” Harry shrugged, his voice small, his hand slipping into Louis’, seeking comfort.

“I know, and I’m so grateful that you did,” Louis told him, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on Harry’s sleep-warm skin. “I really hope that we never have to worry about that at all, but if it ever comes to that, I promise to never agree to anything without speaking to you first, okay?" Harry nodded again and they finished their coffee, cuddled close and savouring their little bubble for as long as they could.

***

 Eleanor smiled and waved as Louis made his way towards her. She was patiently waiting at the entrance to Primrose Hill Park, dressed in shorts as the unseasonably warm October day called for. Louis gave her a smile, reminding himself that she wasn’t to blame for - or even completely aware of - the situation.

“Hey Louis,” she smiled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine thanks, love,” Louis replied, keeping his tone friendly. “How’re things?”

“All good,” she nodded, making her way towards the gate. “So, Harry wasn’t particularly specific on the phone. He just said we need to walk around and look like a couple.” Louis rolled his eyes, but fell in step with her.

“There’ll be a photographer around here somewhere,” he explained. “So, I think just chat and smile. D’you fancy an ice-cream or something?”

“Sure,” smiled Eleanor, looking relieved that Louis was seemingly in a much better mood than he had been when they’d met previously. They wandered over to the ice-cream stand, Eleanor talking about uni and Louis telling her about recording and rehearsals for the tour. They had almost reached their destination when Louis heard the soft click of a camera shutter and looked up to see a photographer lurking some distance in front of them. He mentioned it to Eleanor in an undertone and they both looked in the same direction as the shutter clicked again.

“I guess we’re supposed to act like we haven’t seen it,” Eleanor wondered aloud and Louis shrugged.

“Never done this before, believe it or not,” he laughed and Eleanor looked towards him with a smile. Click.They reached the stand and ordered, glad of the cooling treat in the muggy air. As they made their way through the park, conversation turned to their families. Louis was surprised by how easy Eleanor was to talk to and smiled as he remembered Harry telling him that that would likely be the case. At least he’d be pleased that he was right.

“How long do you reckon we need to wander around for?” Eleanor wondered. Her question was answered by another click and the unimpressed furrowed brow of a photographer who looked less than enthused by the images he was getting. He glared momentarily at them both and it was clear that he had been told to capture something juicier than what they were giving him.

“Doesn’t look impressed, does he?” Louis sighed and Eleanor shook her head. “Right, do you mind if I put my arm around your shoulder or something?”

“No, that’s fine,” Eleanor smiled, shuffling a little closer as they passed the photographer. Louis reached out his arm, feeling incredibly awkward. He hesitated with his arm midway up her back as he heard the camera clicking wildly behind them. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply as he settled his hand on her shoulder; the clicking continued.  Louis counted to five in his head before dropping his hand again and Eleanor looked at him, slightly bemused.

“Am I that bad?” she chuckled. “You look like you’re worried you’ll catch something!” Louis laughed, surprised at her perceptiveness.

“No, no,” he assured her. “Nothing like that. It’s just – well, it’s just a bit uncomfortable for me.” He glanced back at the photographer who gave him a slight nod; Louis exhaled sharply in relief. “Anyway, I think he’s got what he needed.” However, Eleanor still seemed perplexed by his behaviour. “What?”

“Louis, we’re supposed to be creating the impression that we’re in a long-term relationship,” she said slowly. “How do you plan to do that if you look like you’re nauseous from touching my shoulder?”

“It’s not you,” Louis reiterated, frustration building. “It’s just – complicated, okay?” Eleanor shrugged and held her hands up in surrender, sensing the change in Louis’ tone.

“Okay,” she agreed. “It’s none of my business, that’s fine. But I might be able to do some stuff differently or make it easier if I know what’s going on with you. Just think about it, okay?” Louis nodded. “See you later, Louis.” She smiled and wandered off, back towards the entrance gate.

***

Louis pushed his key into the lock with a wave of relief that the difficult part of the day was over and he was finally home to Harry. He swung the door open and dropped his keys into the little glass bowl, toeing off his shoes and setting them neatly onto the rack. That would save Harry some disapproving tutting later in the evening. His head snapped up as he heard laughter coming from the living room; maybe one of the lads had popped around for a bit. Louis hadn’t beaten any of them in FIFA for a while, so he hurried to the living room, excited to start racking up the wins and subsequent Facebook apologies.

“Alright, who’s first?” he demanded in an arrogant tone as he swaggered in.

“Oh, hi babe,” Harry smiled, looking up from where he was curled up on the couch, giggling. Louis’ eyes then flitted across to the smirking face of Nick Grimshaw.

“Who’s first?” Nick repeated, eyeing Louis up. “At least buy us a drink first, Tomlinson.” He dissolved into giggles, bringing Harry with him. “What kind of kinky orgy household do you two run here?” Louis cheeks blazed as he made his way to lean on the empty armchair.

“Thought it was one of the lads,” he muttered. “I meant FIFA –”

“Oh, it’s too late for excuses now,” Nick crowed, seeming to enjoy the fact that Louis was squirming. “Well, as much as I’d love to stay and enjoy the fumbling festivities, it’s Saturday and I have places to go and many, many people to see and do various other things with. And some of them may even buy me a drink first.” He winked animatedly at Louis who merely raised an eyebrow. Harry, on the other hand, chuckled and got up to walk Nick to the door. They strolled out, walking in step and jabbering excitedly about plans to meet up again soon.

Louis threw himself down on the vacated couch, grumbling to himself. Maybe because he was never usually caught off guard so it rarely happened, but he despised being made to feel embarrassed. That was especially true in his own house. And particularly by someone he didn’t know. He was growing increasingly irritated by Nick and his apparent penchant for stupid innuendoes and exaggerated flirtation. Louis heard the door shut and Harry strolled through on his way to the kitchen.

“You want a drink?” he called as he opened the fridge.

“A beer, if we have it,” Louis replied, suddenly feeling the need for one – the Grimshaw effect, he thought darkly. He heard clattering as Harry fixed the drinks. “Didn’t realise he was coming to our house.” Louis cringed as soon as the words were out; he sounded petulant, jealous, pugnacious.

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned as he appeared beside Louis, a beer in one hand and a coke in the other.

“Just didn’t realise Nick was coming over is all,” Louis said, hoping the second version sounded less antagonistic.

“Oh, well I did say this morning –” Harry started, looking a bit confused as he offered Louis his drink and sat down beside him.

“Yeah, no, I know,” Louis chimed in, trying to diffuse the situation but only succeeding in interrupting Harry rudely.

“Are you not okay with him coming over?” Harry asked, irritation beginning to creep into his voice.

“No, I don’t mind people being here,” Louis shook his head. “I just meant –“

“So, you have a problem with Nick specifically?” Harry asked, definitely annoyed now.

“Well, not a problem exactly –“

“But you don’t like him,” Harry finished for him. It wasn’t a question.

“If you’d just let me finish, I’d tell you,” he gritted out and Harry raised his eyebrows, an acerbic laugh escaping his mouth. “What?”

“Nothing,” Harry said, voice icy now.

“No, you laughed,” Louis insisted, taking a sip of his beer to calm himself. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” Harry repeated, setting down his coke and crossing his arms, staring blankly at the tv.

“Remembering something else hilarious Nick came out with?” He knew he was being harsh, he knew he was shifting his irritation with Nick to Harry, yet it was out before Louis could stop it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Harry demanded, glaring at Louis now.

“Well, you seemed to find his jokes at my expense hilarious earlier,” Louis spat out.

“At your expense?” Harry repeated incredulously. “It was a joke Louis. He obviously doesn’t think that we have orgies! You’re being stupid!”

“Whatever,” Louis retorted lamely. He knew Harry was right and that his annoyance was totally misdirected. What was he doing? But the dismissal was a red flag to Harry and suddenly he was standing, pointing his finger at Louis with shining eyes and a tremor in his voice

“I actually think it’s pretty fucking rich that you’ve spent the day on a date with some girl and then come home and attacked me for spending time with a friend,” he choked out, fury emanating from him.

“It wasn’t a fucking date, H,” Louis scoffed. “Now who’s being stupid?”

“Well that’s what everyone else will see it as,” Harry ranted, tears falling freely now. “They’re already on Twitter, you know? The pictures. Very cosy, by the way.”

“You and Nick had a nice look through together, did you?” Louis jeered, picking at the label on his bottle.

“He’s my fucking friend, Louis,” Harry exclaimed, his voice growing louder now in his frustration. “So yes, he did look at them with me actually. You know, to comfort me because I was upset.”

“I’m sure he was very comforting,” Louis sneered, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Are you sure friendship is all he wants, Harry?”

“What does that even mean?” Harry demanded, his fists clenched by his sides.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit weird that he’s singling you and only you out to be friends with?” Louis jibed. “He hasn’t asked me to go on nights out or to pick out new clothes.”

“Maybe he would if you’d act like less of a prick!” Harry shouted, storming to their bedroom and slamming the door. Louis jumped to his feet to follow him, but stopped himself. It would do no good.

“That’s me, Haz,” he yelled after him. “Always the bad guy no matter what I do. Never your fucking fault, is it?”

“Fuck you, Louis,” came Harry’s muffled cry. Incensed by his own words as much as Harry’s, Louis hurled his almost full beer bottle at the wall and sank to floor, tears streaming down his cheeks.

***

Later, after darkness and countless tears had fallen, Louis finally summoned the energy to rouse himself from where he had curled up on the sofa. Once he had carefully collected the broken shards of glass, meticulously mopped up the sticky puddle on the floor and thoroughly cleaned the splashes off the wall, he could find nothing more to do than swallow his pride and apologise for his behaviour. He made a cup of tea just how Harry liked it and walked to their shared room, hoping that Harry would feel as badly about their fight as he did. He knocked quietly on the door. No reply. He cracked the door slightly to see Harry’s curled up figure under the duvet, his back to Louis.

“Haz, can I come in?” he croaked, voice hoarse from sobs and disuse. No reply. “Haz?”

“Can you sleep in the other room tonight, please?” came Harry ‘s voice, equally strained.

“Can’t we talk?” Louis pleaded, panic rising. “I brought you some tea.”

“No,” Harry replied softly. “Not tonight.”

“Please Haz,” Louis implored. “I really want – “

“Goodnight, Louis,” Harry said firmly and Louis stuttered to a halt. Tears that he thought couldn’t possibly remain welled up again and he nodded.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” he murmured, voice breaking. Harry didn’t reply and he closed the door softly, returning to the kitchen to pour the tea down the sink and dragging himself to the spare room for a night of restless tossing and turning without Harry by his side.

Chapter Text

“Tommo, what the fuck is the craic here?” Niall hissed in an undertone, pulling Louis to the side while the others made their way towards baggage claim. Louis looked at him sadly and shrugged. “Come on now, you two are acting like you’re at a mass funeral for everyone you’ve ever known! What’s going on?”

“We had a fight,” Louis murmured vaguely, glancing around at the Swedish posters that adorned the airport walls, looking for a distraction.

“Yeah, no shit,” Niall retorted. “Over the pictures?”

“That was part of it,” Louis explained. “It was other stuff too.”

“Like what?” Niall really wasn’t letting this go without a full explanation.

“Nick Grimshaw,” Louis admitted, grimacing. Niall frowned in confusion.

“Grimmy?” he questioned. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

“I don’t know,” Louis suddenly felt ridiculous when he realised he couldn’t even properly articulate what his problem with Nick was. “He just – he’s always all over him and, like, flirting with him and stuff.”

“Grimmy’s a flirty bloke,” Niall reasoned. “Flirts with me too, like.”

“Yeah, but he’s always asking him to go out and stuff,” Louis mumbled, cringing at how pathetic he sounded.

“Like to dinner and romantic shit?” Niall asked, looking sympathetic.

“No, nights out,” Louis admitted, his cheeks flushing.

“Right,” Niall replied, nonplussed. “I’m not sure I get the issue here, if I’m totally honest, lad.”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Louis said, defeated. “Just the way he speaks to me when Harry’s there. Something’s off about it. But anyway, it was that mixed with the photos and it just all got a bit out of hand and we argued. Badly.”

“Have you apologised?” Niall asked, cocking an eyebrow. Louis felt vaguely annoyed at his presumption that he should be the one to say sorry, but he acknowledged it was probably a fair one.

“I tried, but he didn’t want to hear it,” Louis admitted sadly. “I slept in the spare room and he’s ignored me all morning.”

“Shit,” Niall grimaced. “That’s never good. I normally have to peel him off you.” Louis groaned and put his hands over his face.

“What do I do, Niall?” his muffled voice came through his hands.

“Look, let me have a chat with him and see where his head is at,” Niall offered. “There’s too much emotion between the two of you for a rational chat.” Louis nodded, hoping against hope that Niall was better at conflict resolution than he was.

The taxi to the hotel gave Louis plenty of time to worry. Niall had sneakily split the group so that he and Harry were in one taxi while the other three took a second one. In spite of the swirling anxiety in his stomach, Louis couldn’t help being impressed at Niall’s stealthy antics. When they pulled up to the hotel, he made his way to the reception desk with Liam and Zayn. As they were checking in, Louis felt his phone buzz.

Go to H’s room. He’s 405. Get it sorted lad.

What’d you say to him?

Just reminded him that this isn’t the first Grimshaw to cause jealousy between you! You know Haz, he’s like a puppy, just wants your love and attention!

Don’t compare him to a dog please!

Soz! Go sort it x

Cheers Nialler x

After quickly dropping off his luggage at the room booked for him, Louis took off for 405. He knocked on the door and Harry answered almost immediately. He looked terrible. Louis pulled him into a hug and walked them backwards to he could close the door behind him. Harry burrowed his face deeply into Louis’ neck, his hands clutching desperately to his the back of his t-shirt. Louis wrapped one arm around his waist and tangled the other in his curls, holding him close.

“I’m sorry, Haz,” he whispered to him softly.

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry responded immediately, his voice muffled. He pulled back and looked into Louis’ eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this, Lou.” His voice sounded so small and defeated, Louis wanted to cry.

“You have to, H,” Louis choked out. “I need you.”

“It’s so hard,” Harry pressed his forehead to Louis, closing his eyes. “It feels like everything is against us. It shouldn’t be this hard.” Louis took Harry’s face in his hands, fire burning in his eyes.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” Harry started. “But I don’t want to keep – “

“Harry, I love you,” Louis cut in. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I can’t lose you, do you understand? I’ll do anything to make this work, okay?”

“But what if we can’t make it work?” Harry asked, tears spilling from his eyes. “What if we just keep hurting each other? I hate fighting with you, I hate hurting you.”

“Then we’re letting them win,” Louis said decisively. “This is what they want! They want to push us apart.”  

“I just want to be with you,” Harry sobbed. “Just me and you.”

“So it’ll be just me and you,” Louis told him. “Let’s forget everything else. None of it means anything. I’m yours and you’re mine, remember? Everything else is irrelevant. It’s just the shit we have to do so we get to have each other, okay? This is what’s important.” He pointed his finger from his own chest to Harry’s and back again, tracing the invisible connection between their hearts. “Harry, I’ll fight every single day for the rest of my life if it means being with you. I will do that, okay? But I need to know that you will, too. I can’t do it on my own.”

“I know, Lou,” Harry said, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Louis’ declaration of love seemed to have given him the strength that he needed. “You’re right, we need to be strong. Everything worth having and all that, right?” He gave Louis a watery smile and Louis pulled him back to his chest again. “I love you, Louis.”

“I love you,” Louis assured him. “It doesn’t matter what it says in stupid magazines articles or what pictures they print, you are the only person in my heart, okay?” Harry nodded and clung even tighter to his love, desperate to block out all the noise that surrounded them and focus only on one another.

Around the streets of Stockholm, the lads enjoyed the relative anonymity. Although fans came to speak with them and ask for autographs, it was small groups who didn’t seem too concerned with documenting everything, like the fans at home did. For the first time in months, they felt free and unburdened as though they weren’t under a microscope with every single word and move being analysed. As they sat on a bench, basking in the sun, Louis put his arm around Harry and pulled him close, and Harry laid his head on Louis’ shoulder. For just that moment, without concern about paparazzi or prying eyes, they were just two boys in love. And later, as Louis settled down in bed, back in his rightful place by Harry’s side, he found himself wanting to end the day with a reminder, something Harry could look to when he lost hope or faith in them. He tapped out the tweet and posted it, Harry’s phone buzzing in response almost immediately:

@Louis_Tomlinson: Always in my heart @Harry_Styles. Yours sincerely, Louis

***

The following few days were a whirlwind of flights, interviews and photoshoots as the boys made their way from Stockholm to Milan to Munich to Amsterdam. Despite his exhaustion, Louis felt grateful that he was getting to see all of these places; he had never dreamt that he would get to experience this sort of travel, and he was thankful that he got to do it with Harry by his side. In those brief moments together, like in Stockholm, they were able to enjoy it like any other normal couple, taking pictures of them riding vespas and Harry cuddling up on Louis’ lap. Those moments felt all the more precious as they were punctuated by interviews in which he was questioned incessantly about girlfriends and celebrity crushes. Although the plan for presenting Eleanor as a long-term girlfriend had been agreed, Louis hadn’t actually been told that he had to refer to her as such, so he dodged those questions as much as he could. He was glad to have Liam to chip in on relationship questions with his own affirmative response, taking the heat off Louis for the most part. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, but it felt good to be able to for the moment. Still, the questioning annoyed him and he found old defiant Louis peeking out frequently. In Munich, during an interview with BRAVO TV, the interviewer asked question after question about screaming fans, girlfriends and celebrity dream girls. Louis found himself becoming increasingly irritated as the interview went on.

“Do you have any celebrity dream girls?” she asked, pointing the microphone towards Louis.

“Celebrity dream girls,” he started, an idea suddenly coming to him. “Erm, well, there are loads of people I suppose we think are hot like… Harry?” He posed it like a question while glancing at Harry with a glint in his eye. It felt like a small win. A small, plausibly deniable win. She shifted the microphone to Harry and he looked alarmed at having to come up with something on the spot.

“Erm, I think Emma Watson’s quite hot,” he offered, hoping it would be enough.

“She fancies you as well,” the interviewer responded delightedly. “I read that on the internet. She loves you. You should marry.” Louis’ smile faded and he began to feel uncomfortable again, shifting around in his seat.

“Oh, I didn’t see that,” Harry spluttered. “She’s lovely as well. We’ve met her a couple of times. She’s really nice.”

“Are you a Harry Potter fan?”

“Yeah, massive fan,” Harry nodded.

“That’s why he’s named Harry,” Liam chimed in jokingly. He had noticed Louis’ reaction and was eager to change the subject. The sarcasm clearly didn’t translate as the interviewer looked back to Harry wide-eyed.

“Oh, really? Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a scar and everything,” Harry joked, while the interviewer remained clueless and asked to see it. Louis, still irritated by the marriage comment, was overcome with sudden possessiveness.

“See, look” he announced, pointing to the love bite that he had slowly sucked into Harry’s neck the previous night as he’d made love to him. The interviewer glanced to where his finger pointed, eyes wide.

“Oh, is it a – did somebody kiss you there?” she gasped, inspecting the mottled purple bruising.

“No, it’s a scar,” Zayn insisted, obviously annoyed at Louis’ recklessness.

“Oh, I thought it was a Knutschfleck, as you say in German,” she explained.

“I gave it t’him,” Louis informed her boldly, feeling satisfied that he had marked Harry as his, that this woman would know he was Louis’ and no one else’s. But the satisfaction quickly faded as he looked behind the camera and saw one of the Modest!’s assistant managers, a brunette lady with glasses, texting furiously on her Blackberry. He’d been seeing this woman more and more recently, and somehow he didn’t think she was sending back glowing reports.  

***

Although Louis enjoyed the excitement of all the travel they were doing, he was incredibly happy when he and Harry got to go to sleep in their own bed at Princess Park. The familiar comforting smell of Harry’s candles in the air and their fabric softener on the freshly washed sheets, combined with an exhaustion they felt deep in their bones from the days of incessant travel, meant that both he and Harry crawled straight into bed upon making it home. Louis had thought that Harry was crazy when he insisted on changing their bedsheets right before leaving, but now he understood; the soothing scent of home felt therapeutic and all stress seemed to seep from his tired body. Wearily kicking off their joggers, they snuggled deep into the soft pillows, wrapped themselves up in one another and drifted off into a content and dreamless slumber.

Chapter Text

Louis woke the following morning feeling rejuvenated and excited for their first proper day off in weeks. He strolled down to the kitchen, grabbing their favourite pair of cups from the cupboard and putting on the coffee machine. He suddenly remembered the biscotti Harry had insisted on buying in Milan and went to rifle through Harry’s suitcase to find it. The suitcase still lay in the hallway, evidence of the exhaustion of the night before. He unzipped Harry’s case – momentarily marvelling at how he somehow managed to keep his clothes in neatly folded stacks while Louis’ was a pell-mell of fresh and worn chaos – and began his search for the fancy biscuits. His fingertips landed on a glossy surface that he thought might be the packet, so he shifted the clothes obscuring it to the side. It wasn’t the biscotti, but a polaroid of him and Harry. They sat atop a blue vespa, his arms wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist and huge grins lighting up both of their faces. Louis picked up the photo and ran his thumb delicately across it, affection filling his chest to the point of aching. Across the bottom, Harry had scrawled ‘L+H 3.10.11’ with a small heart in black marker. Louis briefly wondered when Harry had even had the time to have the photo printed, but realised that he had long since resolved not to question when or how Harry managed to organise the many wonderfully sweet gestures he lavished upon Louis. He smiled to himself, feeling incredibly lucky, as he set the biscotti and photo to the side before zipping up the suitcase. He took the photo to the fridge and stuck it up with the little magnets Harry had bought when they had moved in, before going back to making the coffee.

“Morning sunshine,” Louis sang as he nudged the door open with his foot, his hands occupied with coffee and biscotti. Harry groaned and stretched as he awakened, smiling sleepily at Louis when he opened his eyes. Louis set the cups and biscotti down on Harry’s bedside table and bent down to give him a kiss. “Brought you some of the biscuits you bought in Milan,” he mumbled against his lips.

“Thanks baby,” Harry replied, carding his hand through Louis still sleep-ruffled hair.

“Found the picture of us when I was getting them,” Louis continued between small kisses. “You’re so cute.” Harry looked sweetly abashed at being found out. “I love the picture. Put it on the fridge. That okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Harry replied rubbing his nose against Louis’. “I want to fill the house with lots of pictures of us in different places. I want our home to tell our story.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” Louis said fondly, climbing in beside Harry and retrieving his coffee. “So, what’s the plan for today? We still heading over to Lou and Tom’s to see the baby later?”

“Yeah, probably around four or so,” Harry told him. “Lux naps at two so she should be up and fed by then. I don’t want to ruin their routine.”

“It’s very sweet that you think about that, Haz,” Louis smiled. “Most people wouldn’t even consider it!”

“You would,” Harry argued, poking Louis’ ribs. “You know all about the horrors of cranky babies!” Louis nodded with wide eyes, remembering how loudly the girls used to scream if their routine was even slightly disturbed. “You’ll be a pro when we have little ones.”

“You think about that?” Louis asked, surprised. Harry realised how much he’d revealed and his cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, sometimes,” he mumbled. “Like, not soon or anything, but I’d like us to have kids one day. Wouldn’t you?” Louis looked over at Harry and a wonderful collage of images started flicking through his mind: Harry kicking a football around the garden with a little blonde, pigtailed toddler in a Man United strip; Harry pushing a pair of curly-haired twins on the swings while they giggled maniacally, demanding to go higher; Harry kneeling down and sticking a dinosaur plaster onto the barely-scraped knee of a sniffling tot with big, beautiful green eyes.

“Yeah,” Louis murmured, reaching out to pull Harry closer to him. “I want a whole footie team of ‘em with you, Styles.”

“You got the wine?” Harry asked as he grabbed the keys from the bowl and pulled on his shoes. Louis held up the bottle, holding the front door open for Harry. “Great, let’s go!” They headed out to the taxi, closing the door behind them. Louis gave the address to the driver and they settled back for the short trip to Lou and Tom’s.

“Aw, that’s so cute,” said Harry, smiling at his phone before turning it to show Louis.

@louteasdale: Comon Luxy get ya best frock on uncle @Louis_Tomlinson n uncle @Harry_Styles  are comin for teeeea

“I’m so excited to meet her,” Louis exclaimed. “I love babies!”

“I know you do, hon,” Harry laughed.

“Although,” Louis added in an undertone, smirking at Harry. “Don’t think we managed to make one earlier, in spite of our best efforts.” Harry swatting him on the arm, nodding his head towards the driver, but his dimples gave away how funny he actually found the comment.

“She’s gonna be so teeny tiny,” Harry sighed wistfully. “And I love how they smell when they’re that little.” Louis, having experienced the vast array of smells that babies were capable of producing, felt slightly less sentimental about that particular topic.

“It’s basically just baby powder, Haz,” he told him. “You can buy it in Tesco.” Harry rolled his eyes at Louis’ irritating realism, but squeezed his hand nonetheless. They arrived at their destination quickly and Louis handed some cash over to the driver. They hurried to the front door, eager to avoid any prying eyes while they waited.

“My boys!” Lou squealed as the door flung open. She ushered them inside and hugged them both tightly in turn, Tom sidling up to shake their hands and welcome them to their home.

“Thanks for having us over,” Harry smiled. “We’ve been so excited to meet her!”

“This is for you,” Louis added, handing the wine bottle to Tom who accepted with thanks. They all made their way into the living area, chatting animatedly.

“I’ve just fed her, so she’s having another little snooze,” Lou explained as they crept over to the bassinet by the couch. Louis and Harry peered in at the tiny figure sleeping soundly: gentle wisps of soft, blonde hair swept across porcelain skin; a miniature cupid’s bow quivered as she suckled unconsciously in her sleep; little fingers curled possessively around the soft, velvety material of a plush bunny adorned with her name. Baby Lux was perfect and they were both immediately smitten.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry breathed, absolutely captivated by the little human in front of him.

“Congratulations guys,” Louis added, smiling up at them, his hand resting on the small of Harry back. “Can’t believe she’s almost a month old already!”

“I know, it’s crazy,” agreed Lou. “It also kind of feels like she’s always been here, too, though. It’s very weird!”

“How’s she sleeping?” Louis felt very proud that he knew to ask about sleep. He’d heard the question countless times when people came to visit after the girls were born.

“Yeah, not too bad,” said Tom. “She’s waking every three or four hours which is apparently normal.”

“She’s also been eating pretty well actually,” Lou chipped in and the baby talk continued while Tom went to check on dinner and get drinks for everyone. Before long, Louis sensed Harry getting antsy and knew exactly what was on his mind.

“Lou, can Harry hold Lux?” he asked with a chuckle. Harry looked at him accusingly and Louis shrugged his shoulders. “What? You’re practically vibrating with excitement beside me but you’re too polite to ask!” Harry rolled his eyes while Lou laughed.

“Of course!” Lou exclaimed. “Actually, I want to get some pictures of the three of you.” She reached into the bassinet and picked up the baby, transferring her to Harry’s very carefully positioned arms. “You take her and I’ll grab the camera.” Harry clutched the small bundle in his arms, looking completely besotted by her and Louis’ heart melted. All of the earlier images suddenly felt much more real. He shuffled closer to stroke the soft slope of her little nose with a light touch.

“She’s so perfect,” Harry whispered, tearing his eyes away to smile up at Louis.

“She is,” Louis agreed. “You’ll be an amazing dad, Haz.”

“So will you,” Harry replied softly.

Over dinner, Lou and Tom were filled in on all of the gossip, trials and tribulations of One Direction life. They told them all about their travels over the preceding days and their excitement for the impending tour. Eventually, conversation inevitably turned to their relationship and management’s demands.

“So, they hadn’t actually said I had to refer to her as my girlfriend, so I’ve been avoiding it,” Louis told them between bites. “But they called me earlier to say I need to start mentioning it. I suppose they want to make it seem ‘organic’ or whatever by not rushing it all at once.” He sighed, rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer.

“What about you, Harry?” Tom asked and Lou glared at him.

“Well, you guys obviously know about the Caroline thing, right?” Harry asked bluntly and they both nodded. “So that’s gonna be happening.” Louis’ heart ached at how completely defeated he sounded.

“Caroline’s actually really nice,” Lou offered. “I know it might be difficult to see that at the moment, but they could put you with someone a lot worse.”

“Lou, she’s almost twice his age!” Louis protested. “It’s fucking weird that she’s even agreed to this!”

“I know, I know,” Lou soothed. “I do totally understand that and I’ve said that to her myself. The age thing is definitely not appropriate. But she’s just doing what they’re telling her to to make a living.” Lou shrugged, as though she partially understood Caroline’s perspective.

“Lou, you can’t seriously think it’s okay,” Louis chided, becoming annoyed.

“I don’t think it’s okay,” Lou assured him. “I think it’s messed up that they’re doing any of this. But I know that Caroline won’t do anything to hurt Harry which is more than I can say for a lot of the people in the industry. I’m just happy he’s safe.” Louis could see where she was coming from, but he was so incredibly frustrated with the situation that the only feelings he could possibly muster towards Caroline were hatred and disgust.

“I actually agree with the lads,” Tom chimed in unexpectedly and they all looked at him. “H is only seventeen and there’d be absolute uproar if the roles were reversed.” Harry nodded fervently in agreement.

“But you’re losing sight of what’s important here,” Lou told them. “None of it is real! All of this is just to boost her career and hide your relationship – which I’m against obviously! But Caroline isn’t the bad guy here, Modest! are.”

“She’s still agreed to it,” Louis said stubbornly. “That makes her just as bad in my book.” Lou sighed and looked at Harry.

“How about I introduce the two of you?” she suggested. “Just dinner here so you can meet her and clear the air before anything formal. It might make it easier.” Harry considered the offer.

“Can Louis come?” he asked.

“Do you think that’s a good idea considering how he feels about her?” Lou countered and Louis privately thought that she probably had a point.

“What do you think, babe?” Harry asked, taking Louis’ hand under the table.

“If you think it’ll make things easier then go for it,” Louis replied sincerely. “I don’t think I could bite my tongue, so it’s probably best I don’t come.” Harry nodded, thinking hard.

“I think it would definitely make it less awkward if we could meet informally first,” Harry started, weighing up his options aloud. “And I’d much prefer to do it with people I know. I would rather Louis could be there but I understand why he wouldn’t want to be.” He paused to consider. “Yeah, I think dinner would be good. Are you free Tuesday?”

“Hon, I have a one month old,” Lou laughed. “My evenings aren’t exactly rock and roll anymore!”

Chapter Text

Over the following days, Louis did his best to find the balance between following orders to bring his fake relationship with Eleanor into the spotlight and not upsetting his actual partner. During Friday’s Radio 1 Breakfast Show, they spent the morning being borderline bullied by Chris Moyles, who made fun of everything from their fashion sense to their accents. Louis couldn’t help but feel that he was actually a bit of a knob as he continually referred to Harry’s ‘grandad clothes’ and called himself and Zayn ‘rough’. During the fan questions, the inevitable ‘single or taken’ portion of the conversation came up and Louis felt eyes boring into him from across the room. He glanced over to see the same assistant manager from Modest! glaring at him over her glasses, as though daring him to say anything other than ‘taken’. His eyes shifted over to Harry who was announcing that he was single, his face still a little pink from Chris’ recent jibes about not getting why the band is popular and personally thinking they’re average. Okay, time to find that balance.

“I’m kinda seeing someone,” Louis said hesitantly. “A little bit.” The Radio 1 crew all made noises of interest, while Chris saw the chance for another jibe.

“I can’t believe you’d diss Aled like that, Louis,” he said, motioning towards one of the producers. “You’re either with him or you’re not. You just gotta make your mind up.” Everyone in the studio cracked up as Aled made a dramatic expression of betrayal and heartbreak.

“Okay, I’m with him,” Louis smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. He was relieved that the focus had been shifted away from Eleanor and onto something silly that he could easily joke about. Best of all, he had done exactly as he’d been told, so he couldn’t be held accountable for the misdirection. Maybe Chris wasn’t quite as bad as Louis thought.

***

“Cheers, mate,” Louis smiled as he took the package from the delivery driver. He shut the door behind him and rushed upstairs to their bedroom to open his parcel. The inspiration for this particular purchase had struck him after their dinner at Lou and Tom’s a few nights prior. Although Louis had tried to be as supportive and agreeable as possible, knowing how difficult it all already was for Harry, he couldn’t ignore the overwhelming feelings of jealousy and possessiveness he had felt even thinking about Harry being on a date, albeit a fake one, with that woman. He needed to find a way to be there with Harry without physically being there. He needed Harry to feel like he was holding his hand through it, staying close and keeping him safe. He needed Harry to feel him. And so the idea occurred to Louis, something he had never done before, had never thought about before – a butt plug. Harry had mentioned them a few times before, but Louis hadn’t given it much consideration. However, the more Louis contemplated it, the better it sounded. He considered the idea of spending the afternoon preceding the date opening Harry up; he would bring him to the edge again and again, breaking him apart into a thousand tiny pieces before finally giving him what he needed; only then would he plug him up, keeping him open, ready and waiting for when he returned to Louis; it would keep him on edge all through dinner, feeling that constant aching reminder of Louis, unable to focus on anything else – it seemed perfect. It could be their filthy little secret to which Caroline would be totally oblivious. She would sit across the table, boring on about something insignificant while Harry would feel that unyielding little silicon plug stretch him open, rubbing against his prostate when he shifted just right. Louis could picture how it would affect him: his big, beautiful eyes, glassy with arousal; his teeth sinking into his soft, pink lips, still swollen from Louis’ earlier attention; his jittery movements as his body unwittingly searched for friction, something to quell the aching desire from the constant pressure inside him. Louis felt a familiar flutter in his abdomen as he removed the silky, black silicon plug from the hot pink tissue inside the infinitely more discreet outer packaging. He didn’t think Harry particularly needed reminding who he belonged to, but with this inside him, there was no way he could forget.

As it turned out, Louis got a chance to see the effects of the plug for himself even sooner than he’d anticipated. Just two hours after he’d waved Harry off for the introductory dinner with Caroline at Lou’s, he heard the front door slam and a grumpy Harry stormed into the living room, where Louis was playing FIFA and eating his Domino’s. Harry threw himself down with a huff, small, adorable creases between his eyebrows. 

“What’s up, honey?” Louis asked, pausing his game and setting down the controller to give Harry his full attention. “Did something happen at Lou and Tom’s?”

“She’s horrible,” Harry huffed out before shuffling closer to Louis, clearly needing a cuddle. Louis immediately gathered him up onto his lap and began carding his hand gently through Harry’s curls. “I really didn’t like her at all, Lou. She just seemed so fake.”

“I’m presuming you mean Caroline?” Louis asked, trying to keep the tone light. Harry nodded. “What did she do, babe?”

“I don’t even know,” Harry sighed. “She was nice to me and everything, but she was kind of flirty. So, I talked about you a lot to make it clear that I had no interest and she just like rolled her eyes and stuff.” Louis felt anger flare in his gut, but he pushed it down. He needed to be calm for Harry. “Like she kept touching my arm and making innuendoes and stuff.” Louis found himself thinking that it sounded an awful lot like a certain radio presenter, but he knew better than to say anything.

“What did you decide about the date?” Louis asked, dreading the answer.

“She wants to have dinner at the W Hotel on Sunday,” Harry sighed. “Apparently the XFactor lot go there after the results show now, so she wants us to be papped having dinner there then join them.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad,” Louis offered. “Like, you could probably get it over with pretty quickly if there are other people to meet up with.” Harry nodded, considering Louis’ comment.

“I just don’t want to be alone with her, Lou,” he mumbled, burrowing into Louis’ neck, seeking comfort. “It’ll be so uncomfortable and I’ll just be thinking about and missing you the whole time.” Louis felt a grin spread across his face as he thought about the little package hidden upstairs.

“Well, I actually had a thought about that, babe,” he started, cupping Harry’s jaw and guiding his face up to look at him. He needed to gauge his reaction, which was pure curiosity for the moment. “What would you think about having something with you to make you think of me while you’re with her? Something that only we would know about.”

“Like something belonging to you?” Harry asked, confused. “Like wearing something of yours?”

“Kind of,” Louis smile salaciously. “I bought a plug for you.” Harry’s eyes widened and a smile crept over his lips. “I want you to wear it to dinner with her. What do you think?” Harry brought his lips to Louis in a lingering kiss that conveyed his agreement very clearly.

“That’s so hot, Lou,” he moaned against Louis’ lips. “She’ll have no idea while I’m feeling it inside me, imagining it’s you. That’s so, so hot.” He groaned low in his throat. “How did you even think of that?” Louis shrugged and pressed another kiss to Harry’s lips.

“So, you like the idea?” he questioned softly, delighted that Harry seemed so on-board.

“Absolutely,” Harry breathed. “ I’m not saying I’m looking forward to the date now, but I’m definitely dreading it less!” Louis smiled and cuddled him closer.

Harry was eager to break in their new toy ahead of the date, begging Louis to let him use it the following morning while they made love.

“Please Lou,” he gasped, as Louis’ undulating hips rolled rhythmically against him. “Want you to plug me up. Want to feel it all day and think about you being inside me. Want to imagine this perfect cock is still in me.” Louis smiled and began to thrust harder, deeper; Harry was much too coherent. Dissolving into moans of pleasure, Harry was momentarily distracted by the pulsing pressure on his prostate. But, as they came together minutes later and Louis collapsed onto Harry’s chest, spent and satisfied, Harry pressed his lips to his ear.

“Please, baby?” he murmured. And, really, who was Louis to say no?

***

Louis felt the rhythmic nudging of Harry’s arm against his own, and glanced down to see his hands jittering restlessly around the phone he was holding. He’d been like this throughout the entire interview: skittish and dreamily distracted as he bit his lip, breathing deeply, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Louis loved it and was seized by a sudden, desperate need to let Harry know that he was enjoying the effects of the plug just as much. He smiled to himself as he half-listened to the interviewer’s question.

“… describe your friendship as a group?”

“I think our friendship is quite evident in, like, interviews like this,” he grinned, hoping Harry picked up on his emphasis. He could see him staring at him out of the corner of his eye, his features soft and eyes glassy. “We’re just full of banter. We just have a great laugh. It’s like five best friends as school.” He gave a little shrug at his silly comparison, but his focus was now consumed by Harry alone. Louis glanced at him as he sunk his teeth into his already swollen bottom lip yet again, his body leaning in against Louis’ needily. Louis then looked down and noticed the obvious bulge in the crotch of Harry’s trousers; he felt fiery arousal surge inside him and he wanted more. Watching Harry lose control like that made him feel powerful, dominant and he wanted to push Harry further. Nodding along with Zayn’s answer about Big Brother, Louis moved his arm back so he could reach behind them. Keeping his eyes forward, he slid his hand down the back of Harry’s pants, thankful for the low sling of his chinos. He nudged his fingertips against the flared base of the plug causing it to shift minutely inside Harry. The response from Harry was exquisite; his eyes widened, his lips parted and he inhaled deeply, his entire body reacting irrepressibly to the sensation. Zayn stared as he tried to continue his answer as evenly as possible, clearly confused by Harry’s behaviour. Realisation dawning, he looked between them and nudged Louis who smiled at him sheepishly.

“I just want to see the house,” Harry said loudly, looking at the interviewer. His attempts at acting normally were adorable. “It looks sick – “ Liam, watching Zayn closely and realising what was going on, then cut in and tried to refocus the interviewer’s attention away from them. Louis felt a little guilty for being so obvious and making them uncomfortable. He hadn’t meant to let his arousal get the better of his common sense, and he knew that Zayn and Liam would be annoyed at his recklessness. He understood their irritation and didn’t want to make their lives harder, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to Harry.

“It’s just an awkward scenario,” Zayn responded to the interviewer’s next question, but his emphasis was clearly directed at Louis. Feeling increasingly guilty, he drew back his hand and returned it to his lap, hoping that neither of them would be too angry with him.

As the interview came to an end, they thanked the interviewers and returned the phones that they had been pretending to own for the duration of filming. Louis considered how ridiculous it was that they were pretending to own Nokia phones when fans saw them tweeting from their iPhones daily; he felt a brief flare of annoyance that management didn’t put more effort into covering up cracks like that rather than watching his and Harry’s every move. He was about to share this with the others when he noticed that Zayn was glaring at him. Louis shuffled nervously in his seat, awaiting the onslaught once the crew were out of earshot.

“You can’t do shit like that, Tommo!” Zayn hissed, glancing around to ensure that no one was listening. Louis avoided his eye, embarrassment creeping over him; his body instinctively leaned closer to Harry, seeking comfort and safety. “You’re taking it too far now and it’s making it awkward for the rest of us.” Liam nodded solemnly while Niall shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, unwilling to get into confrontation with anyone.

“Sorry,” Louis mumbled. “I didn’t mean for it to be awkward. Just got carried away.” He shrugged and looked at Harry who was gazing down at his hands, eyes unfocused. Louis nudged him to get his attention. “Didn’t we, Haz?” Harry looked up, surprised at the sudden movement.

“What?” he said, eyes wide as he gazed around the group.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Zayn groaned. “He’s on another planet. What is going on?” Heat rose in Harry’s face as he realised what they were talking about.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, cheeks aflame. “Just tired.”

“Let’s just forget it, okay?” Louis rushed out, eager to soothe Harry. “We’re sorry. Won’t happen again. End of.” He stood and held out a hand to Harry. “Let’s go, Haz.” Harry stood, legs trembling ever so slightly and he trailed after Louis out the door. The other three stared after them.

“Gotta hand it to Tommo,” Niall said finally, looking oddly proud. “I’ve never had a girl looking like that!”

***

By the following morning, Louis and Harry had both moved past the feelings of guilt and onto finding the whole event quite funny. This change of heart for Louis was aided significantly by how needy and desperate Harry was for him by the time they got home. The afternoon of constant pressure had felt like relentless edging, the fullness leaving Harry aching with need. He’d gazed longingly at Louis with half-hooded eyes all the way home and had pounced on him the moment he’d closed their front door – they didn’t make it to the bedroom. Afterwards, as they lay sweaty, half-clothed and panting on the living room floor, Louis found it very difficult to recall why he’d felt guilty at all. And by the time the following evening rolled around, both he and Harry were eager to repeat the experience.

“You’re gonna be thinking about me all night, aren’t you?” Louis murmured, easing the plug gently into a pliant, moaning Harry as he lay spread across their bed. “You’re gonna be sitting across the table from her and thinking about having me inside you.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Harry groaned needily, fingers twisting into the bedsheets. “Won’t be able to stop thinking about you. Gonna need you so badly.” Louis’ eyes widened at the moniker; Harry had used it once before when he had been particularly turned on. It was definitely something Louis wanted to explore further, but he decided now wasn’t the time.

“Do you think she’ll know, H?” Louis teased, trailing his lips up the curve of Harry’s neck and nipping at his earlobe. “Do you think she’ll figure out your dirty little secret?” Harry moaned as he began to grind down against Louis’ hand, attempting to push the plug in further, to add more pressure. Louis held a firm hand to his hip, stilling him. “Uh-uh, not yet, baby. You need to be a good boy for me this evening, then I can give you what you need.” Harry nodded obediently, his eyes still closed but taking in deep steady breaths and lacing his fingers through Louis’ to ground himself.

“I will, Lou,” he mumbled between breaths. “Gonna be so good for you. Can’t wait to get home to you.”

“Me too, baby,” Louis whispered as he pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “Let’s get you ready to go.” Harry groaned at the interruption, but disentangled his fingers from the sheets and sat up, unfocused despite his best efforts. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah, just a little…” he shivered and smiled up at Louis, cheeks flushed. “Full.” He wiggled his hips experimentally before hopping up off the bed and wandering over to the wardrobe to rifle through. “What should I wear?”

“How about a classic Harry Styles blazer, since this evening is pretty much a performance?” Louis smirked and Harry chuckled in response, pulling out a grey sportscoat. “And a white shirt maybe?” Harry nodded and reached for a button-down. He brought his selection over to the bed, pulling them on quickly while Louis watched from where he lay sprawled out across the mattress. As Harry surveyed himself in the mirror, attempting to tame his wild curls into something resembling a style, Louis wandered over and wrapped his arms around him, stretching to rest his chin on Harry’s shoulder.

“You let me know if she tries to get fresh with you,” he winked as Harry leaned into his touch. “Although I can’t blame her when you look like that. I’d chance my arm too.” He was trying desperately to keep the tone as light as possible, pushing down all his feelings of anxiety and jealousy in favour of keeping Harry calm.

“No chance,” Harry murmured. “Not when I have you waiting for me at home.”

“You’ll text me?” Louis asked, voice tinged with neediness.

“Of course,” Harry reassured him. He looked at his watch and sighed. “I better get going. Sooner I get there, sooner I can leave.” Louis nodded and spun him around for a final cuddle. “Love you so much.”

“I love you, hon,” Louis responded, holding him tight and wishing he didn’t have to let go.

***

 Harry had only been gone half an hour when Louis’ phone buzzed. He paused Resident Evil 4 and picked up his phone to check it, taking a sip of his beer at the same time.

Hey gorgeous, missing you already. Just ordered and already run out of things to talk about. She’s really fucking boring xx

Haha, give it a chance, babe. Maybe chat about the show. That seems like a safe topic. Favourite acts and shit xx

Will try. She keeps looking around to see who’s watching us. She’s drinking vodka, soda and lime – how predictable xx

Oh Haz, the claws are out! At least try to talk while you eat, okay? No texting at the dinner table… unless something interesting comes up obviously! Xx

Louis chuckled to himself as he went back to his game. He knew that Harry didn’t want to be on the fake date any more than Louis wanted him to be on it, but he also knew that the newly omnipresent assistant manager from Modest! would likely be there, hovering in the background and reporting back every detail. After being glared at by the bespeckled brunette on a number of occasions, Louis had asked around to find out who exactly she was. He had quickly discovered that her name was Katie and that she was indeed one of Magee’s lackies. Louis spent days trying to figure out where he knew her from before realising that she was the same woman they had spoken to regarding their social media. She had also tweeted them on multiple occasions, reminding them to update their Twitter or to tweet through the official band account, or sometimes even just tweeting about the band in general and tagging them. Louis briefly pondered whether the move from digital content manager to in-person babysitter was a promotion or demotion for her, but quickly concluded that she was equally annoying in both roles. He could imagine how she’d been acting all evening: frowning at Harry from across the room as he focused on his phone, catching his eye and trying to communicate her disapproval through dramatically widened eyes and none-too-subtle head nods towards Caroline. Thinking about it was beginning to annoy Louis, so he returned his attention to his game and promised himself he wouldn’t think about Harry or the date for at least fifteen minutes. After five, his mind began to wander back to Harry; after ten he found himself thinking about how the plug would be feeling; at exactly fifteen minutes, his itching fingers grabbed his phone and began to type.

Hope you’re not feeling too distracted ;) xx

Feels so good, keep sort of spacing out because I’m just focusing on how full I feel xx

Do you think she’s noticed yet? Xx

Dunno. Don’t care. Can’t wait to get home to you. Can’t stop thinking about you taking it out and filling me up with your dick instead xx

Haz, you’re in public, you’re going to get all worked up! Xx

Too late. Already hard. Fuck! Xx

Hope she doesn’t think it’s for her! Xx

When Harry didn’t respond immediately, Louis threw his phone to the side and went to get a drink. Still no answer. He frowned and returned to his game. Maybe she’d actually come up with something interesting to say. The phone buzzed and Louis grabbed it immediately. He opened the message, confused when an image began to load. He nearly dropped his phone as his screen filled with a closeup of Harry’s big hand wrapped around his very hard dick, precum leaking tantalisingly from the tip and dripping down the head, onto Harry’s finger. Louis felt his own dick twitch and he read the caption:

All yours. For your eyes only xx

Louis gaped at the picture, his hand moving of its own accord to palm his rapidly thickening dick through his joggers. He groaned as he tore his eyes away from the screen. He had to wait. He closed his eyes and took several breaths, willing himself to look only at the keyboard as he typed his response.

Fuck Haz! Get home now. If you’re not home in half an hour, I’m going to come to that restaurant and bend you over one of those tables – your choice xx

On my way xx

Chapter Text

Louis and Harry had been promising to make it to one of Ed’s gigs for months before the opportunity arrived. With their equally busy schedules, it was difficult to find a time when Ed was playing relatively nearby that crossed over with one of the band’s very rare days off. However, after months of calendar checking – which was admittedly done mostly by Harry – they finally found a date that worked, so he and Harry happily packed up their overnight bags and headed to Manchester. As his Boxster sped up the M60, he reached over to grasp Harry’s hand in his own.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing Ed perform,” Harry grinned. “I can’t believe this will be the first time I’ll actually see him on stage properly.”

“I know,” Louis responded thoughtfully. “It’s so weird cos we’ve heard him a million times, but it’ll be wicked to see him up there.”

“Are you going to try to serenade me when Kiss Me comes on?” Harry teased, batting his eyelashes. Louis glanced over and laughed at his flirtation.

“Haven’t I already wooed you?” he chuckled. “Isn’t that how I managed to convince you that living with me was a good idea?”

“The wooing should never end, Lou,” Harry pouted and Louis could tell he was only partially joking. “You have to keep the romance alive in a relationship if you want it to last forever."

"Forever? Are you proposing to me, H?” Louis gasped jokingly.

“As if I’d propose on the M60!” Harry exclaimed in disgust, dropping Louis’ hand from his own. “That’s, like, the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” Louis laughed at how genuinely horrified he seemed at the idea of anyone being proposed to in such a manner.

“I thought you said that it didn’t matter where it happened when two people loved one another,” Louis jibed, remembering a comment Harry had made weeks before. “You said it was all about the love and not fancy declarations.”

“Yes,” Harry sighed exasperatedly. “But I meant like at home or on a picnic. Not at a service station. We’re not Pam and Jim.” Louis couldn’t resist teasing him.

“’We’?” he questioned with eyebrows raised. Harry blushed and suddenly seemed flustered, rushing out his words.

“I didn’t mean that we should get engaged,” he spluttered. “I just meant that – “

“So, you don’t want to?” Louis cut in and Harry looked even more panicked.

“No! I mean yes – Not yes, but – “

Louis couldn’t maintain composure any longer and burst out laughing; Harry threw him a withering look, realising that he was being teased.

“You’ll be lucky to get anyone to marry you with that attitude, Tomlinson,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist – You’re just so easily flustered, Haz,” Louis chuckled. “And you’re very, very cute when you’re all confused and muddled and can’t get your words out.” He glanced over fondly to find Harry giving him the look he used when he was trying to remain aloof but failing miserably.

“Well, you better hope that whoever gets stuck with you likes your mean jokes,” Harry sniffed, picking at his fingernails. Louis grinned at Harry’s theatrics and reached over to nudge him gently; Harry batted his hand away haughtily.

“Hey Haz,” Louis murmured, bringing his hand right back over and stroking Harry’s arm softly.

“Yes?” Harry said imperiously and Louis suppressed another laugh. His attempts at acrimony were adorably deficient.

“I’m sorry for teasing,” he began. “And I’d really like you to be the one that gets stuck with me, please.” Harry hummed noncommittally in response, intent on punishing Louis for his jibes. Louis smiled at how habitual the little back and forth was and knew exactly what Harry needed. “You know, I’d say yes to you even if it was on the M60. I’d say yes anywhere, anytime.” Harry looked over at him, a smile playing on his lips against his will. Louis knew his annoyance would capitulate once the opportunity to be lavished with praise and affection came up. And while some people may have thought Harry oversensitive and Louis pandering, it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He had always been captivated by Harry’s softness, and giving him all the love and attention he could ever need brought peace to Louis’ heart. He considered it a testament to how beautifully they fitted together, complementing one another perfectly.

“You would?” Harry mumbled quietly and Louis nodded, reaching his hand down to catch Harry’s and lacing their fingers together.

“But I’m gonna have to ask you to hold off for now,” he warned with a glint in his eye.

“Why?” Harry asked, brow furrowed.

“Because, Mr Styles,” Louis smiled, bringing Harry’s knuckles to his lips. “I have some plans, none of which involve a motorway. And that’s all I can say for now.” Harry gaped at him, stunned. He opened his mouth to question him further, so Louis shushed him. “I’m not saying anything more! Be patient.” Louis glanced over at Harry’s dismayed expression and smiled to himself, thinking of many images of rings he had saved on his phone while he decided which would best suit Harry.

***

The euphoric glow that followed the very romantic evening they spent lost in a sea of people, listening to Ed’s emotive lyrics and holding one another close as the music danced around them, dimmed considerably upon their return to London the following day. It was an alert to a text on Harry’s phone that doused the embers with absolute finality. Harry picked his phone up from the coffee table beside the sofa on which they were both lounging, making the most of their free Friday evening. His eyes darted across the screen, scanning the words and he groaned loudly, slamming his phone into the cushioned upholstery. Louis looked at him questioning and Harry held the phone out for him to read the offending message.

Lou T: Looking forward to having you over on Sunday. Caroline will be here at 8, but feel free to come earlier if you like x

Louis felt his stomach churn unpleasantly and a cold wave of tension washed over him; he had forgotten about the next ‘date’ Simon had planned for Harry. They’d managed to convince him that a group dinner would be more realistic, that they could play up the ‘meeting through mutual friends’ angle to make it all seem more believable, but now that it actually loomed on the horizon, the presence of others did little to quell Louis’ anger or his jealousy.

The logical part of Louis knew that it was just dinner with Lou, Tom and Val, Lou’s mum, with an additional unwanted guest with whom Harry would only reluctantly engage all evening. That part knew that Harry’s desire to go was less than zero, that he dreaded the thought and would count down the minutes until he could politely leave and come back home to Louis. But in spite of this safe and comforting knowledge, there remained another part of Louis, too; it was a part fuelled by doubt and fear and hatred. Try as he might, Louis couldn’t control it and it reared its ugly head any time Caroline’s name was mentioned. It was the part that haunted him like a spectre, asking questions that made his heart feel like it was being torn from his chest, still thumping and bloodied. The two parts battled incessantly, clashing viscously again and again: I know Harry loves me – but what if he’s tempted by something new and exciting? I know Harry would never hurt me – but what if he drinks too much and makes a bad choice? I know Harry doesn’t even like girls – but what about older, more experienced women?

Louis tried and tried to ignore the tormenting questions, distracting himself from them as much as he could, but sometimes, late at night as Harry snored gently beside him, he allowed the torturous questions to surface and tried to work out what was paranoia and what was reasonable worry. He asked himself what he actually knew about Caroline – not what he assumed in jealousy or anger, but evidentiary information. Well, she was willing to at least pretend to be sleeping with a teenager to further her career; Louis didn’t feel that spoke particularly well to her character. Surely any normal woman in her thirties would find the idea creepy and inappropriate. Surely they would care enough about their reputation to want to avoid seeming predatory. Surely they would care that people would judge them as desperate or manipulative or grooming. But it seemed as though Caroline didn’t have any of these qualms and, from this, Louis could only assume two possible reasons: either she truly didn’t care what other people thought of her or - and he personally feared this was more likely - she didn’t actually see anything wrong with sleeping with a seventeen year old. If the latter was true then it seemed likely that she also wouldn’t see anything wrong with trying to seduce someone in a relationship. Her apparent lack of moral compass only served to push Louis’ paranoia into overdrive and the inevitable torturous questions surfaced once again. He held Harry tightly, trying desperately to dispel the horrible thoughts and surrender to sleep.

***

As the PR stunt with Caroline was amped up, Louis hoped that this would at least mean that he wouldn’t have to engage with Eleanor. He and Harry were planning a short visit home to Doncaster during which he hoped they’d be able to completely switch off from all of the stress and worry of fake relationships and concentrate on one another. They were both excited to see the girls, and Louis was eager to check on his mum. He hadn’t been home a lot since Mark had officially moved out, so he couldn’t help but worry about how she was doing, despite her constant reassurances. Louis had thought it would be a chance to relax with all the people he loved most; he was wrong.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Louis,” came Simon’s bored drawl down the line. “Are you free to speak?”

“I’m at home,” Louis responded shortly. “But we’re busy, so –“

“I’ll be brief, then,” Simon cut in, clearly sensing Louis’ hesitant tone. “We’ve arranged another publicity opportunity with Eleanor on Saturday.”

“I’m in Doncaster on Saturday,” Louis told him. “I’ve already made plans to go up on Friday evening.”

“Yes, I know,” Simon went on. “Eleanor will be joining you there. We think it’s about time we moved the relationship forward. Meeting your mother will legitimise you as a couple.” Louis’ jaw dropped and his mind began to spin. Now this girl had to meet his family? How would he explain it to the girls? Especially to the twins. They would be so confused. And his mum didn’t need the additional stress of having a stranger in her house. No, this couldn’t happen.

“I don’t think this is appropriate,” Louis started. “I don’t want my family and Harry to –“

“Harry won’t be there,” Simon interrupted breezily. “He’s going to Manchester.”

“What?” Louis frowned, confused.

“We need to place him elsewhere and it makes sense for him to visit his own family,” Simon explained. “It doesn’t make sense that he would be there when your girlfriend is meeting your family.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Louis exploded. “You can’t tell us where to be during our time off! This is ridiculous!”

“I think you need to calm down and think carefully, Louis,” Simon tutted patronisingly. “You can’t cuddle up with your little boyfriend at concerts and expect that there won’t be rumours that need shutting down. This is merely the consequences of your own blatant disregard for subtlety.” Louis’ reply caught in his throat; of course someone had seen them. It had been too easy, too perfect. “Now, Eleanor is travelling straight from university, so her train will get into Doncaster around two and you will need to pick her up. Will that be a problem?”

“No,” Louis muttered, all the fight gone out of him. It was getting more and more difficult to keep it. “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

“Great!” Simon concluded brightly. “I assume you’ll let Harry know about the change in plans?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed dully.

“I’m sure he’ll have a great time,” Simon went on, something in his voice that Louis couldn’t quite place – an amusement almost. “Spending time with his family, maybe even meeting up with some friends.” Louis hummed noncommittally, trying to figure out the tone. “Right, well, Eleanor will be in touch. And remember Louis, she’s meeting your family for the first time. It’s exciting and happy – make me believe it.” Before Louis could protest, the line went dead. He dropped his phone and slumped back onto the bed feeling exhausted, all hopes of a relaxing weekend flying straight out the window.

Chapter Text

In spite of the heavy absence of Harry, Louis still felt that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as two small figures bounded towards him, squealing and giggling delightedly. He scooped the twins up into his arms, one in each and marvelled at how much easier it had been only a few months prior.

“Hello, troublemakers!” he laughed, planting exaggerated kisses on each of their heads in turn. “I’ve missed you!”

“I missed you most, Lou-lou,” pouted Daisy, squeezing his cheeks together between her small hands.

“No, I did!” argued Phoebe, pulling away her sister’s hand to demand her share of Louis’ attention.

“I think I might have actually,” came Jay’s voice as she appeared in front of them, smiling widely and drying her hands on a tea towel. She extended her arms wide for her first-born, and Louis set down the twins to envelope his mum in a tight hug. Louis’ body sagged against her, feelings of safety and familiarity washing over him.

“I missed you most,” he whispered to her. “Just don’t tell them that.” Jay laughed and held him closer, relishing the moment. Hugs with her boy were so few and far between now, and she treasured each one. They broke apart as small hands began tugging at their arms and legs and all four of them headed back inside.

The small kitchen looked exactly the same as it had always done: clean dishes drying on the rack, a neatly folded basket of laundry waiting to be put away, homework books strewn across the dining table with half-finished sums and sentences. It even smelled the same: a mixture of laundry, cooking and his mum’s perfume. This was Louis’ home, his childhood, but he felt so far away from it all now. So much had changed in the past year and a half that he sometimes felt like he was a completely different person, so it felt strange that this could remain the same – it was a pleasant and comforting idea. He dropped his bag onto a dining room chair as his mum pulled down mugs for tea. Louis smiled at the fact that she hadn’t even needed to ask; it was a foregone conclusion.

“So, we have you all weekend?” Jay confirmed, dropping a teabag into his Rovers mug and going to fill the kettle.

“Yep, here ‘til Sunday,” Louis replied, sitting down at the table between the twins as they went back to their homework with surprisingly little cajoling required.

“When is Harry getting here?” she questioned, flicking on the kettle and wiping down the counter mindlessly as she waited for it to boil.

“I need to speak to you about that actually,” Louis began in an undertone and Jay glanced up at him with a frown. “Later on.” He gestured subtly towards the twins and Jay nodded her understanding. “Where are Lotts and Fizzy?”

“Oh, they’ve gone over to your dad’s for the night,” Jay told him. “They normally like to go over after school on Fridays, but they’ll be back tomorrow. These two usually go, too, but they wanted to be here when you arrived, didn’t you, girls?”

“We see Dad all the time,” Phoebe shrugged. “Louis is only here on very special occasions.” Louis felt his heart melt at her words, but couldn’t help also feeling the guilt that was creeping in – Was he becoming a ‘just on the holidays’ brother? How long would it be before the girls began to grow apart from him?

“Maybe when you and Dais are a little bit older, you’ll be able to come stay with me, too,” he suggested, glancing up at his mum for approval.

“Of course,” she smiled. “You could go during school holidays if Louis isn’t working. As long as two seven year olds aren’t going to cramp your style!”

“Never!” Louis grinned, ruffling both their hair, much to their annoyance.

***

After putting the twins to bed, Louis and Jay settled down in front of the TV with yet another cup of tea.

“I swear I don’t drink nearly as much tea in London,” Louis noted, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. “It’s usually a cuppa in the morning and maybe one in the evening. But I’m flicking on the kettle every five minutes here!”

“Yorkshire tea is better, love,” Jay shrugged. “You know that.” Louis laughed and readily agreed with her theory. “So, what’s going on with H, then?” Louis could tell that she’d been dying to ask all day, but had restrained herself until there weren’t any little ears listening.

“There’s nothing going on with him,” Louis assured her. “But we’ve had to have a change of plan this weekend. I’m sorry I didn’t mention before, but it was sort of sprung on us.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, eyes narrowing. “Why do I suspect this story is going to start with ‘Simon said’?”

“Bingo,” muttered Louis, rolling his eyes. “So, you know I told you about this fake girlfriend situation?” Jay nodded, pursed lips joining the narrowed eyes. “Well, they’ve decided that it’s time for our relationship to move forward.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s going to be coming here to ‘meet the family’,” he explained, raising his fingers in air quotes. “I know it’s annoying for you and I’m really sorry, but you know how it is…” He trailed off helplessly and shrugged.

“So, this stranger will be coming to our house, spending time with my children and I’m supposed to just be fine with that?” Jay demanded, anger evident now.

“I know, Mum,” he grimaced. His mum was rarely angry and he hated that he had caused it. “I’m really sorry. I tried to say no, but –“

“Louis, stop,” she ordered, raising a hand. “I’m not angry at you. It’s those bastards treating your life like a fucking game of chess. Deciding who moves where and when. Getting rid of whoever they think is disposable. It’s not right!”

“I know,” Louis agreed, eager to placate his mother. “But we knew it’d be like this when we signed the contract. We agreed to it.”

“You didn’t agree to be a fucking pawn in someone else’s game, Louis!” she spat, her voice raising. “How are they allowed to do this?”

“Please Mum,” Louis said, moving closer and grabbing hold of her hand in an attempt to calm her. “Please don’t be upset.”

“They’re using you for their own gain!” Jay raged, the fury that had been simmering for months finally reaching boiling point. “They’re not even treating you like a person!”

“Mum, the girls,” Louis warned, his voice firmer now and Jay’s fury began to dissipate. Her shoulders slumped and, like Louis, she felt the fight go out of her somewhat.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “You’re right. Getting angry isn’t going to fix it.”

“No, it doesn’t. Trust me, I’ve tried!” Louis joked weakly, trying to raise a smile. It didn’t work.

“I just can’t understand how this is happening, Boo,” she shook her head, trying to make sense of it. “How can they legally do this?”

“We agreed to it,” Louis repeated, almost automatically; he’d heard it so many times now. “We gave them control of our image and this is what they’re choosing to do with it. I suppose it’s like acting, isn’t it? They would argue that this stuff with Eleanor is just acting and it’s not affecting my ‘real life’ or whatever.”

“But it is, love,” Jay pointed out gently. “Rather than spending a weekend here with your lovely boyfriend, you’re having to do this. You’re having to lie to people. Like, what will you tell the girls?”

“I’m not sure,” Louis sighed, slumping back on the sofa, suddenly exhausted. “I hoped you’d have some advice there.”

“Well, the twins are too young to know about any of this,” she decided immediately.

“I completely agree,” Louis nodded. “They don’t need to deal with this shit. Besides, they just think of Harry as my friend, so it won’t be confusing for them or anything. I really don’t know about Lotts and Fizzy though, especially Lotts. It’s not like she won’t pick up on things.”

“It’s a big secret to expect a thirteen year old to keep, babe,” Jay warned him gently. “I don’t know if it’s fair on her.”

“I know, that’s what I’m worried about,” Louis sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “But equally, I hate lying to her.”

“What if you just introduce Eleanor to them as your friend and leave it at that for now?” Jay suggested. “It’ll buy you some time at least.”

“You know there’ll be photographers tomorrow, though?” Louis reminded her. “And those pictures will be everywhere saying she’s my girlfriend. I don’t want to confuse them.”

“Well, I’ve had a chat with them about not believing things you see in magazines already,” Jay reassured him. “We’ve talked about only believing what the people you trust tell you. Had to have that particular talk way back in the XFactor days!”

“Oh god, yeah,” Louis chuckled, remembering. “There were some interesting stories about us back then, too!”

“How many people in the house was Cher supposedly sleeping with?” Jay rolled her eyes and Louis shook his head. It was easier to laugh at now; it definitely hadn’t been at the time.

“I hate that you’re all dragged into all this, Mum,” Louis told her guiltily. “It wasn’t your choice to be a part of any of this.”

“We’ll support you for as long as you want to do it, love,” Jay soothed him. “I don’t like how it’s happening or how you’re being treated, but if you think it’ll be worth it then that’s all I need to know.”

“I’m just hoping it’ll get easier soon,” Louis mumbled as he cuddled against his mum and closed his eyes. “It has to get easier soon.”

***

Louis was woken the following morning by the thumping of footsteps racing up the stairs and, moments later, his bedroom door burst open to reveal Lottie and Fizzy. They bounced into the room and jumped onto Louis’ bed happily.

“Why aren’t you up yet, you lazy sod?” Lottie questioned, prodding Louis in the stomach while Fizzy ruffled his hair.

“I’m on my day off,” Louis grinned, catching her wrists to avoid further prodding. “Some of us have jobs.” Lottie rolled her eyes dramatically and hopped off him. “Hate what you’ve done to my room by the way, Fizz!”

“I think it looks loads better,” Fizzy shrugged, surveying the walls which were now plastered in pictures of various YouTubers in place of Louis’ old football posters. “And it doesn’t smell of your football socks anymore!”

“Oi!,” Louis growled, hitting her with his pillow. “My room didn’t smell!”

“It did when you left your dirty kit lying in it, to be fair,” Lottie chimed in. “Mum used to get mad at you all the time for that!”

“I can’t believe I actually thought I’d missed you two,” Louis teased, climbing out of bed and throwing on joggers and a t-shirt. The three of them traipsed downstairs where Mark was just coming in the front door, a schoolbag in each hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your bags, your highnesses,” he teased as the girls grabbed the bags from him, each giving him a kiss on the cheek and calling their goodbyes as they rushed off into the kitchen. “Y’alright, mate?”

“Yeah, good,” Louis grinned, descending the final couple of stairs and pulling Mark into a hug. “You?”

“Not too bad,” he replied, clapping Louis affectionately on the back before releasing him. “Good to be home?”

“Yeah, great to be back,” Louis enthused. “It’s been a while.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of plans this time,” Mark began, looking a little hesitant. “But maybe we could organise something next time?”

“Definitely,” Louis agreed. “Could we maybe do something over Christmas or something?” Mark looked delighted as they agreed on a Christmas catch-up and Louis waved him off, relieved that things felt as easy and natural as they always had done.

Louis joined the rest of his family in the kitchen, where Jay was busy buttering slices of toast while the twins munched on cereal. Lottie and Fizzy were whispering over something they were reading from the former’s phone. She’d gotten it a couple of months before for her birthday and Louis dreaded to think that there was some spotty little toerag texting her. He decided it was best not to speculate and pulled out a seat to join them.

“Erm, girls,” he began and they all looked up at him. “I’m picking a friend up from the station in a bit and they’re coming over.”

“Is it Harry?” Lottie asked immediately.

“No, not Harry,” Louis replied. “A different friend. Her name’s Eleanor.”

“It’s a girl?” Fizzy questioned, exchanging a glance with Lottie.

“Yeah, she’s a girl,” Louis told them. “But we’re just friends, okay?”

“Is she staying over?” Lottie asked. “Is that why we’re going back to Dad’s later?” Louis nodded. “Why can’t she just stay in your room?” Louis looked at Jay for back up, lost on how to continue the conversation without it becoming very awkward.

“I don’t allow girls to stay in Louis’ room, remember?” Jay said firmly, setting a rack of hot toast in the middle of the table. “Hannah wasn’t allowed to stay there either.”

“But Hannah was his girlfriend,” Fizzy chimed in, brow furrowed. “I thought it was only because… you know…” She trailed off, looking pointedly at the twins and Louis suppressed laughter.

“Gross, Fizz!” Lottie cried. “Don’t talk about Louis and S-E-X!”

“What’s sex?” Daisy asked interestedly.

“I always forget they can spell now,” Lottie muttered, pulling an apologetic face at her mum.

“She said S-I-X,” Jay told Daisy, pretending to be shocked and outraged. “She’s saying you’re only six!”

“We’re not six, we’re seven!” Phoebe exclaimed hotly and Daisy nodded in fervent agreement.

“Sorry, guys,” Lottie sang. “I forgot. I won’t make that mistake again!” Appropriately placated, the twins returned to their cereal and Lottie pretended to wipe her brow in relief while Fizzy laughed. Louis could only marvel at his mother’s skilful diversionary tactics.

***

Louis tapped the steering wheel, waiting for the lights to turn and the traffic to start moving. He hadn’t anticipated the roadworks and was now running late to pick up Eleanor. It wasn’t that he was in any way eager to see her, but he didn’t want to be rude either – it wasn’t her fault he was forced to change his weekend plans. He hadn’t actually seen or spoken to Eleanor is almost a month, not since the ill-fated walk in the park that had resulted in one of his and Harry’s worst arguments, so it seemed crazy that they were now supposed to spend the entire evening together with his family. He supposed it would get easier as time went on and he actually got to know her as a person, but doing that felt wrong somehow. Maybe if she actually knew the truth of why they were doing this, it would feel better, but he didn’t feel quite ready to let her into that part of his life. Not yet at least.

He reached the station carpark and saw Eleanor waiting patiently with her small suitcase by the exit. He beeped and waved to get her attention and parked close by. She put her suitcase into the boot and hopped into the passenger seat of his Boxster, closing the door and belting up.

“Hiya!” she smiled easily. “Thanks for picking me up. I’ve not been to Doncaster before so god knows where I would’ve ended up if I tried to take a cab!”

“No worries,” Louis smiled. “Part of the job description, eh?” That made her laugh and Louis relaxed a bit. She was easy to be with really, not awkward or difficult to chat to.

“So, who will I be meeting this evening then?” Eleanor asked, seeming genuinely interested. “You mentioned you have a lot of sisters, right?”

“Yeah,” Louis confirmed. “There’s Lottie, Fizzy, Phoebe and Daisy. And Mum obviously.”

“Cool, I don’t have any sisters so it’ll be a nice change,” she smiled. “What ages are they?”

“Lotts is thirteen, Fizz is eleven and the twins are seven,” Louis reeled off. “Listen, just a heads up, they don’t know anything about… well, anything. So I’ve just told them I’m having a friend over, okay?”

“Why?” she smirked, amused. “Worried I was going to try something?”

“No, I don’t mean –“

“You’re so easily flustered!” she snorted. “I don’t mind what you’ve told them. I told you, I’m doing this to try to help my career. What you tell people or why you’re doing it doesn’t concern me.” Louis nodded curtly. “Unless you want to share, of course,” she added as an afterthought. Louis shrugged noncommittally and Eleanor nodded, fishing her phone out of her bag.

Louis pushed his key into the front door and gave a last, silent plea that the evening wouldn’t be painfully awkward. He tucked Eleanor’s case away under the staircase and quickly showed her where the kitchen and bathroom were. As they entered the living room, they were met with five sets of eyes all looking intently at them. 

“Everyone, this is Eleanor,” Louis announced as he directed her into an empty armchair. Eleanor smiled at them, giving the twins a small wave. They grinned back before tucking themselves in behind Jay.

“Hi Eleanor,” Jay said, somewhere stiffly and not quite her usual bubbly self. “It’s lovely to have you.”

“Thank you so much for having me stay,” Eleanor replied politely. “I know it was very short notice.”

“Yes, well, that’s not your fault,” Jay said, making it very clear exactly whose fault she felt it was. “Anyway, introductions. That’s Lottie and Fizzy,” she pointed at the two sisters, whispering quietly to one another. “Both of whom know better than to whisper in front of people as it’s incredibly rude.” They looked abashed and mumbled apologies. “And these rascals are Phoebe and Daisy.” She reached back to tickle the twins and they shrieked with laughter.

“Really nice to meet you all,” Eleanor smiled. “Looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“Do you like Barbies, Eleanor?” Daisy demanded, her head popping out from behind Jay.

“I love Barbies,” said Eleanor seriously. “I had loads when I was your age. Do you like them?” Daisy nodded solemnly. “Maybe you could show me yours later on, if you want to?”

“Yeah, okay,” Daisy agreed easily. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Phoebe’s head appeared beside her twin.

“I’ll come too,” she told Eleanor.

“Perhaps you could show Eleanor where she’s staying, girls,” Jay chimed in, gesturing towards the stairs.

“You’re staying in our room, Eleanor,” Daisy told her, holding out her hand to lead her. Eleanor took it with a smile and stood to follow along.

“Louis isn’t allowed girls in his room, you see,” Phoebe piped up, taking up the rear as they ascended the stairs.

“Oh, well that sounds very sensible,” Eleanor agreed. “Thank you so much for letting me stay in yours!”

“That’s okay, we’re going to stay at our Dad’s so there’s enough space,” Daisy’s little voice carried down the stairs as she explained. Louis sighed and grabbed Eleanor’s case to follow them.

***

After they’d had dinner and Mark had arrived to pick up the girls, Eleanor excused herself to go study in the twins’ room for the remainder of the evening. For the first time all day, Louis felt himself relax as he made his way to his own room to call Harry. He burrowed into the duvet and dialled his number, excited to hear his voice.

“Hello?”

“Hi Haz,” he mumbled happily. “Y’okay?”

“Yeah, just waiting for Gem to get back and we’re going to watch a film,” Harry told him. “How was today?”

“Fine, I suppose,” Louis said. “It went as well as it could’ve done. Not awkward or anything.”

“Oh, good,” Harry replied tonelessly. “Did your family like her?” Louis could sense where this was going. Harry would be upset if they did because it would feel like a slight to him, but he’d be worried if they didn’t because he wouldn’t want the situation to be more difficult for Louis. There was no right answer – for either of them.

“Everyone was very polite,” Louis began, trying to choose his words carefully. “I introduced her and she spent most of the afternoon playing with the twins. Lotts and Fizzy didn’t really speak to her much.”

“What did you introduce her as?” Harry asked immediately.

“As my friend, Eleanor,” Louis told him firmly, expecting the question. “Then we had dinner together, Mark picked up the girls and now she’s studying in the twins’ room.”

“Okay,” Harry sighed, seeming relieved. “Did your mum like her?”

“As I said, there was no reason to dislike her,” Louis repeated. “She was perfectly friendly and polite.” Harry didn’t say anything. “Mum was annoyed that you weren’t here though. She was looking forward to seeing you this weekend.”

“I was, too,” he replied gloomily. “Been looking forward to it for ages.”

“I know, baby,” Louis soothed. “We’re coming up for Christmas though, yeah? That’s not far away.”

“It’s two months, Lou,” Harry countered. “I just feel like I’m missing out, you know? Like, I’m meant to be getting to spend time with you all, not her.”

“You know that I wish it were you here, Haz,” Louis sighed, frustrated. “More than anything. I don’t want this either.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Harry offered. “Hey, guess who’s also in Manchester this weekend.”

“Your lover Frankie Sanford?” Louis joked, glad for the change of topic.

“Oh, I wish,” Harry exclaimed with a laugh. “No, Nick! He just messaged me this evening.”

“Grimshaw?” Louis asked, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach.

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed happily. “He decided to come visit his mum last minute. I’m going over there for lunch tomorrow.”

“You’re going over to his mum’s?” Louis questioned, struggling to keep his tone even.

“She’s been dying to meet me apparently,” Harry laughed, totally oblivious to Louis’ discomfort. “Nick says he’s told her loads about me.”

“Right,” Louis replied shortly. He was struck with the sudden urge to end the conversation. He didn’t want to hear any more. He wanted to be alone. He thought of the nights they had fallen asleep with their phones glued to their ears, so desperate to connect that they wouldn’t hang up. He felt sick. “Listen Haz, I need to go. I told Mum I’d spend the evening with her, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” Harry said, surprise at the sudden change of tone evident. “Do you want to call me later or…” He trailed off, sounding hurt and confused.

“Well, you’re watching that film with Gemma, aren’t you?” Louis rushed out, his chest tight. He needed to get off the phone. “Let’s just speak tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry mumbled sadly. “I love you, okay?”

“You too, H,” Louis replied and he hung up, collapsing back onto the bed and hauling in deep breaths as tears leaked from his eyes.

Chapter Text

Louis tossed and turned all night, and woke feeling drained of all energy and patience. His snappy mood wasn’t improved by the morning activity he was forced to partake of: hanging around outside his house with a smile plastered onto his face, pretending to ignore photographers as they clicked away manically. Afterwards, he drove Eleanor to the train station in almost complete silence, giving monosyllabic responses to her questions. Eventually, she gave up and spent the remainder of the journey on her phone. When he returned, he tried his best to put on a good face for his final few hours with his family, but every so often Nick’s smirking face popped up in his head and irritation settled itself in his bones once again. He set off back to London in the afternoon, looking forward to getting back to Princess Park. Back to just him and Harry. As much as he’d loved being with his mum and the girls, he couldn’t ignore that distance clearly didn’t work for his relationship. He and Harry were best when they were together.

As he swung his Boxster into his parking space and killed the engine, he took his phone out to check his messages. He had a few messages from the band and a couple of missed calls from Harry. Just as he was about to call him back, his phone pinged with a message from him.

Hi Lou, not going to get the train back now as Nick is driving back anyway. He doesn’t want to leave until this evening though, so I’ll be back late. See you tonight xxx

He had to be kidding. He’d spent all day with Grimshaw and now he was blowing off an evening with Louis so they could drive back to London together. Louis muttered furiously to himself as he stormed into their house and threw his bag down in the hallway. For the first time, Louis’ anger extended beyond Nick and he found himself feeling quite annoyed with Harry, too. Why the sudden desire to spend so much time with Nick? And, more to the point, why did Nick seem to be showing up everywhere like a bad smell? Louis pondered this as he grabbed himself a beer from the fridge and collapsed onto the sofa. Suddenly and unexpectedly, he heard Simon’s voice in his head as he recalled their last conversation: “Spending time with his family, maybe even meeting up with some friends”. Louis had noted something off about how he had said it, but he couldn’t put his finger on it at the time. He thought back to when Simon had flown him out to LA months before. He’d said something weird then, too; something about introducing new people to Harry’s social circle – “a few people to make him seem older, more mature”. Could Simon be behind this? Could he be directing Nick, orchestrating the whole thing as part of his plan for Harry’s image? Louis tried to tell himself that he was being dramatic, that things like that didn’t happen in real life. But hadn’t he just spent a weekend with a fake girlfriend? Was that really any less insane? Louis suddenly felt overwhelmed and nauseous. He poured the remainder of the beer down the sink and instead chugged a large glass of water. He forced himself to go upstairs and take a hot shower, trying to wash the awfulness of the situation with Harry and his suspicious about Nick off of himself. Exhausted, he climbed into bed and fell asleep before Harry could make it home.

***

Louis woke to Harry shuffling through the bedroom door holding a breakfast tray. His hair looked like a bird’s nest and he was wearing only his boxers, and for a brief, wonderful moment all thoughts of Nick and Eleanor and missed trains and everything else vanished from Louis’ mind. There was no room for any of it, because he’s mind was filled with Harry.

Every so often, and usually out of nowhere, this happened to Louis; he was hit with an overwhelming realisation of just how deeply in love he was. There was no rhyme or reason to it and it always happened without warning. Sometimes Harry would look at him from across the room and smile in a certain way, or they’d be in an interview and he’d say something so undeniably Harry-like, or, like now, they’d spend a little time apart and it would hit Louis all at once the moment they were back together. He didn’t know if it was something that happened to other people, or whether it was even something that Harry felt, too. It was just so much; so wonderful, so overwhelming, so terrifying. Realising that he was probably gaping at Harry like an idiot, he shook himself back to reality and smiled at his boyfriend as he slid the tray carefully onto the bed and climbed in after it.

“Made you egg and toast,” Harry smiled, looking a little diffident. Louis knew that he was feeling uncomfortable about how things had been between them, too – though perhaps for different reasons. “And tea, of course.”

“Thank you, Hazza,” Louis mumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up properly. He stroked his knuckles down Harry’s lovely check and Harry leaned into his hand, chasing his touch.

“Missed you,” he whispered softly, gazing deep into Louis’ eyes.

“I missed you, baby,” Louis told him, putting as much feeling into his words as he could. “I’m so glad to be home with you.” Harry seemed to relax then, settling into bed and making a start on his breakfast. Louis joined in and soon they had wolfed down the lot, not talking much as they ate. Part of Louis wanted to bring up everything with Nick rather than letting it fester, but another part, one much more interested in self-preservation, wanted to push all of it far away from this lovely, lazy morning in bed together. These moments were so precious and felt so good, he didn’t want to ruin it by bringing thoughts of Nick or Eleanor or anyone else into it. He knew it was cowardly and he knew that he’d probably regret it when it would inevitably resurface during a future argument, but still Louis found himself pushing it down, instead pausing at the ensuite door to ask Harry if he wanted to join him in the shower.

***

As they are wont to do, the emotions caught up to Louis – and it didn’t even take a full day. As the band sat through another mind-numbingly boring interview with the same questions they’d been asked a million times, his previously very well concealed frustrations began to resurface. It started with the mention of Harry’s apparent penchant for older women. It was the first time it had been properly mentioned, or at least the first time it had been followed by the interviewer naming Caroline specifically. Harry had tried to evade the topic, jokingly talking about how his upper age limit in prospective partners was no older than his mum, but this only seemed to spur the interviewer on as she began questioning how old that was exactly and gushing about how great it was that he was so openminded. Louis’ fury built with each follow-up question, but what really pushed him over the edge was when he caught sight of Katie, the Modest! employee who had been lurking in the background, keeping note of their every move for months and months, grinning delightedly at the mentions of Caroline’s name and vigorously gesturing for the interviewer to press forward with the line of questioning. How much was Louis supposed to take? How was he supposed to just go on ignoring that they were talking about the man he loved fucking someone else? How the fuck was he supposed to be okay with pretending that that they didn’t share a bed, a home, a future together? Harry was his; not Caroline’s, not Nick fucking Grimshaw’s, not anyone else’s.  He was so fucking tired of pretending. So, as the interview ended, Louis’ let the false smile drop from his face as he took out his phone and scrolled through to find his next scheduled tweet – an album promotion with a limited edition slipcase featuring Louis’ picture. He quickly searched for the version featuring Harry’s image, attaching it and deleting the one with his own face. Then he deleted the original tweet and typed out his own instead:

Just bought my copy of the album with my love’s face on… #welivetogetherdealwithit

Breathing heavily, he hit Post and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, nudging the Silent button as he did – he didn’t want to deal with the fallout from this. His screwed his eyes shut and leaned back against the wall of the corridor he had no memory of entering. He’d been so incensed, he hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going. He couldn’t muster up much concern that everyone would be wondering where he was; he just wanted to be alone for a minute. To wallow in the simmering anger that seemed to swirl around him. He slipped down the wall and curled himself into a small ball, his knees pulled up to his chest, his face hidden. A door opened a few feet down and he saw Harry’s concerned face peek through the crack in it. Spotting Louis, he slipped in and sat down cross-legged opposite him. He didn’t try to try to make Louis talk or even ask if he was okay, he just wrapped his arms around him and stroked his hair softly.

“I did something bad,” Louis mumbled after a few minutes.

“Don’t worry, we’ll fix it tomorrow,” Harry responded softly, kissing the top of Louis’ head.

Louis spent the entire evening waiting for the fallout that would undoubtedly follow his tweet. He picked at his dinner, stomach feeling too jumbled to take more than a couple of bites; he checked his emails obsessively, sure that a summons to the Modest! office was on its way. That night, he tossed and turned, wondering what punishment they were cooking up for him; it had to be something awful if it was taking so long. He tried to force the endless list of possible consequences from his mind and waited for sleep to take him.

***

Following an extremely fitful night’s sleep, Louis awoke to fingers gently stroking his hair and soft lips pressing against his forehead.

“Morning, sunshine,” came Harry’s voice, low and gravelly as it always was in the morning. As he slowly woke, a smile crept over Louis' lips in response to that favourite sound of his. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the sunlight as he gazed up at his favourite sight – a sleep-soft Harry with very messy curls, in only his boxers and carrying a breakfast tray.

“Morning, babe,” he yawned, propping himself up on his elbow. “What’s all this?”

“Breakfast in bed for my favourite,” Harry grinned, settling the tray on Louis’ bedside table while he climbed back into bed and snuggled into Louis’ side, humming contentedly at the comforting warmth.

“You’re too good to me, Styles,” Louis mumbled, nuzzling into Harry’s hair and inhaling his scent. “Don’t deserve you.” Harry responded with a shake of his head and a grumble of disagreement before disentangling himself and reaching across Louis to retrieve their eggs and toast.

“Any word?” Harry enquired as he dipped the corner of his toast into the perfectly cooked golden yolk. His voice was airy, but Louis could sense the underlying tension because he felt it too.

“Nothing yet,” he sighed. “Maybe they’re trying to make me sweat by waiting for –“ He was interrupted by the shrill ring of a phone and Louis’ head snapped up to locate the source. But it wasn’t his phone that flashed and vibrated, it was Harry’s. Louis looked at his boyfriend, panic spreading through him as he considered why they were calling him instead. What were they going to make him do? Harry set down his plate and retrieved the phone, checking the display.

“It’s just Mum,” he soothed, his free hand finding Louis’ and rubbing soft, calming circles on the back of it with his thumb. “Hi Mum, how’re you?” Harry motioned that he was going to take the call in the living room and Louis nodded.

As Harry padded off, Louis blew out a sharp exhale and closed his eyes, laying his head back against the headboard. He needed to get a grip. He couldn’t spend his time panicking every time the phone rang! This wasn’t him. He wasn’t an anxious person, or at least he hadn’t been. Louis had always been the first one to get involved in something a bit rebellious or mischievous. As long as no one got hurt, he’d never worried about getting into a bit of trouble, even if it had meant spending a considerable amount of time in detention or the headteacher’s office. But now, he was constantly on edge as he waited for his next telling off. He felt more like a naughty child now than he had ever done in school and it was wearing very, very thin.

The more Louis thought about it, he felt the familiar flames of anger begin to flicker in his tummy. He shouldn’t have to live like this, sick with nerves as he waited for punishment for simply being honest. Besides, they were already forced to have beards, what else could management do? Set up a fake proposal? Make him have a fake wedding? A fake baby? No, that was ridiculous. There was only so much Simon and Modest! could actually force, he was sure of that. He needed to take his own advice that he’d given Harry all those months ago and just play along; it was all just stuff they had to do so they could be together. And that was the important thing: being with Harry. As long as he had him, Louis could deal with being told off and going on fake dates and having fake ‘meet the parents’ weekends. At least he thought he could.

‘Mum’s upset,” Harry announced as he strolled back into the bedroom, settling himself back into bed. “She’s seen some of the Caroline stuff being printed.”

“Oh shit,” Louis frowned. “What did she say?”

“Well, first she had a go at me for saying the stuff about dating someone her age in that interview,” Harry smiled, rolling his eyes. “Then she started interrogating me about the Caroline stuff. You think my own mother would know better than to believe any of it is even remotely true!”

“She’s probably just worried, H,” Louis offered, understanding Anne’s desire to protect him. “I don’t think she actually believes any of it – though other people obviously will.”

“Yeah, I think it’s the age thing that’s worrying her most,” Harry replied with a grimace. “I explained all of the Eleanor stuff to her so I think she was expecting that I’d have to do something similar. The idea of me being involved with someone in their thirties is making her really uncomfortable.”

“That’s understandable,” Louis nodded thoughtfully. “I guess she’s worried about what people will think. Like her son’s being taken advantage of and she’s not doing anything to stop it.”

“That’s exactly what she said!” Harry exclaimed. “At least this explains why we haven’t heard from Simon yet.”

“What d’you mean?” Louis inquired, brow furrowed.

“Well, obviously their plan is working,” Harry sighed resignedly. “Judging from Mum’s reaction, people genuinely think I’m dating a woman old enough to be my mother. And if people are falling for it then it means we’re safe.”

“I suppose so,” Louis shrugged, lifting his arm so that Harry could scooch closer. “Hate that people think you’re with her though.”

“I know, baby,” Harry mumbled, burrowing into Louis’ side. “I do, too. Worth it to have this though, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Louis smiled.

Chapter Text

It often seemed that Louis’ life had become a game of whack-a-mole: as soon as one issue had been resolved, another would arise. Unfortunately, there was one particular mole that seemed incessant – Nick Grimshaw. And, short of literally thumping him with a mallet, Louis couldn’t quite figure out a way to get rid of him. It was safe to say that he had disliked Nick from the moment he’d met him and that dislike had only intensified as time went on. Initially Louis had simply found him irritating; he was too loud, too brash and too attention-seeking. He appreciated the irony that those were likely characteristics people would associate with him too, but he aimed more for ‘lovable rogue’ - a target of which he felt Nick fell dismally short. Of course, Louis was mature enough to admit that Harry also played a part in his acrimonious feelings towards Nick. He might even admit that some of the feelings were perhaps fuelled by jealousy – just a little bit. But if he was waiting for Nick to do anything to quash those insecurities, he was in for a long wait.

After they had fought about Nick at the beginning of the month, Harry all but stopped mentioning him and Louis had felt hopeful that the friendship had fizzled out - and that hope made him feel pathetic. What felt even worse was the realisation that his hope was baseless. Since they had met up during Harry’s trip home, he and Nick had been in contact almost constantly. It suddenly occurred to Louis that just because Harry hadn’t been mentioning Nick, it didn’t mean they hadn’t been speaking - evidently he’d been as eager to avoid another fight as Louis had been. Though not enough to actually stop speaking to him, Louis thought bitterly. It seemed that Eleanor coming to Doncaster had broken some invisible barrier for Harry and the Nick taboo had been lifted. So this was how Louis found himself unwillingly hearing all about the thoughts and opinions of Nick Grimshaw as he sat down to his breakfast one Saturday morning.

“ – and Nick says he can help out with tweets and stuff, too,” Harry was saying as he dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster. “So that’ll mean me having to say less which makes it easier.” Louis hummed vaguely as he shovelled cereal into his mouth in favour of replying. “Lou, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” Louis mumbled around the mouthful of Cheerios.

“Well, you could respond,” Harry sighed, grabbing butter from the fridge and shoving the door closed with more force than strictly necessary. “You’re just grunting at me.”

“’m tired,” Louis groaned, eyes still on his breakfast.

“Right, well, I think it’ll be good to have Nick do some of the tweets about Caroline so I don’t have to,” Harry went on, waiting patiently for his toast to pop. “It’ll take some of the pressure off. I thought it was really good of him to offer, don’t you think?”

“It’s a tweet, not a kidney,” Louis muttered, trying hard not to roll his eyes.

“He’s just trying to help us, Louis,” Harry retorted sharply, retrieving his toast. “He says he can come on some of the planned dates, too.”

“So helpful,” Louis said sarcastically. “Selfless, really.” Harry sighed as he finished buttering his toast and made his way over to the table.

“Don’t be like that,” he cajoled, sitting down in the chair next to Louis. “It really will make it easier.” Harry took a bite of his toast and nudged Louis’ shin with his foot. “He’s being a friend, okay?” Louis grunted again, but now that Harry was using that soft tone, he couldn’t quite muster the same disdain as before. “And we have that interview coming up with her and Olly next week, so any outside help we can get is good.”

“S’pose so,” Louis mumbled, leaning closer to rest his head on Harry’s shoulder as he munched on his toast. “Not looking forward to that.”

“At least Olly will be there, too,” Harry offered, feigning optimism. “Maybe we can just focus on him.”

“I don’t think we’ll be allowed to just ignore her and only talk to Ols, H,” Louis snorted. “You know they’re going to want interaction between the two of you. That’s the point, isn’t? Drum up some drama by having her interview you.” Harry hummed and put down the remainder of his toast on his plate. He shuffled closer and his arms encircled Louis, drawing him in and pressing a kiss into his hair. It felt so safe and lovely; Louis never wanted to leave.

“Think I’m gonna head out later,” Harry murmured softly , breaking the silence, and Louis felt his stomach tighten again. “Nick invited me to a Bonfire Night thing.”

“Oh, right,” Louis managed, struggling to keep his voice steady. “You never mentioned.”

“Didn’t think you’d want to come,” Harry replied and Louis felt him shrug, jostling his head on his shoulder slightly. He pulled away and sat up straight again. “I know you’re not his biggest fan.” Louis scoffed quietly but didn’t respond. “Is that okay?”

“I’m not going to tell you when you can and can’t go out, H,” Louis shrugged. “I don’t want our relationship to be like that.”

“I know that,” Harry nodded. “Me neither.”

“So, just do what you want to do,” Louis concluded, avoiding Harry’s eye. He so wanted him to want to stay home, to spend the evening together, to watch fireworks from their living room window, wrapped up in a cosy blanket together. But he already knew he wouldn’t.

“Well, I sort of already promised Nick,” he explained, his expression sheepish. “I don’t want to back out last minute.” Louis nodded, his throat burning. “I won’t stay out late.”

“It’s fine, H,” Louis mumbled, fishing his phone from his pocket and opening his text thread with Zayn. Harry hovered for a few seconds but, realising that that Louis didn’t want to speak about it further, he picked up the remainder of his breakfast and stalked off to their bedroom. Ignoring the nauseous feeling in his stomach, Louis began to type.

Fifa and a few drinks later lad? Got a litre of vod that’s been in the cupboard just crying out to be opened – u in?

He wanted to forget all about Nick fucking Grimshaw – and Harry too, for that matter. Zayn was usually pretty good at distraction and almost always up for getting pissed. And, if he was really lucky –

Yes lad! Defo in. Got some green too xx

Yeah, he knew that he could always count on Zayn to be there to help him forget his shitty mood.

***

Louis shuffled nervously from foot to foot as a mic-pack was affixed to his clothes. Nervous adrenaline surged through his body, muffling the familiar studio sounds that surrounded him. He inhaled deeply, trying to focus his thoughts and calm his nerves but it had little effect. His eyes fell to Harry who was looking as uncomfortable as Louis felt; he was speaking to a runner who was holding out a bunch of flowers which Harry was viewing with some trepidation.

“But why?” came Harry’s voice, filled with uncertainty.

“I was just told to make sure you get them and that you give them to Caroline when you go on,” the young man explained patiently. He was clearly under pressure and in a hurry as he nudged the bouquet towards Harry in an attempt to be rid of them.

“But I didn’t buy these,” Harry insisted, taking a small step backwards as though he were being presented with something much more threatening than flowers.

“I know that,” sighed the runner, his patience beginning to wane. “But you need to take them and give them to Caroline. Like a gift.” He pushed the blooms into Harry’s arms and took off without another word. Louis watched as Harry glanced around for someone to offload the flowers to but there was no one. He gazed down at them dismally and he looked so lost and alone that Louis’ heart ached. He rushed over and took the bouquet from him, discarding them unceremoniously on a nearby table.

“You okay?” Louis asked softly, catching Harry’s wrist and grazing his thumb over the delicate bone there. He loved those beautiful, dainty wrists so much.

“I’m meant to give them to her as though I’ve bought them for her,” Harry mumbled uncomfortably.

“I know, I heard,” Louis sighed, glancing around and spotting Katie watching them from across the room. Of course she was there. “I don’t think you’ll get away with leaving them behind unfortunately.” Louis nodded subtly towards their omnipresent chaperone and Harry stole a glance, frowning when he spotted her. 

“I’m not giving them to her,” Harry said stubbornly. “I’ll give them to Olly instead.”

“Not a bad plan actually,” Louis chuckled. “They can’t do much about it when it’s live on air.” As though summoned by their planned mischief, Katie appeared at their side, beckoning the other three to join.

“Right, seating order is as follows,” she announced tersely. “Harry closest to Caroline, then Niall, Zayn, Liam and Louis on the far side.” Her expression was neutral but her tone was icy. “No switching. Play nice. Greet the hosts warmly.”

“Meaning?” Louis demanded and Katie turned her attention to him.

“A kiss on the cheek,” she explained airily. “Nothing outrageous. I trust you can handle it.”

“How cosy,” Louis retorted with an eye-roll which Katie ignored, turning to Harry instead.

“Don’t forget your flowers,” she smiled, scooping them up from them table and plonking them into Harry’s arms before stalking off.   

***

Louis was unsurprised when they were almost immediately summoned for a meeting with Simon and Modest! the following morning. However, upon filing into the office, they were greeted by an uncharacteristically cheerful Simon, who welcomed them warmly and motioned for them to sit.

“So, some very good news for you this morning, boys,” Simon beamed, looking between the five of them. “You’re officially signed to Columbia Records - contracts were finalised this AM!” Louis’ breath caught in his throat as his brain processed the words.

“Columbia,” Niall breathed out softly. “As in the actual Columbia Records? As in the American one?”

“That’s the one,” Simon chuckled, eyes glinting. “You’re crossing the pond, boys!”

“So, we’ll have tour dates there?” Liam burst out excitedly. “Like actual proper American arenas and stuff?”

“That’s the hope,” Simon told them with a satisfied smile. “We’ll do some promotion over there once we’ve finished the UK and Ireland leg of the tour and, if it’s well-received, we’ll add a US leg for later in the year.” They all gaped at him silently, disbelief momentarily striking them dumb.

“We’re also going to go ahead with a small number of performances in Australia and New Zealand,” Harry Magee added, his usual tone of disinterest and piety replaced with something that could almost be construed as friendly – though, Louis noticed, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So, all very positive and exciting,” Simon concluded, clapping his hands together jovially. “We won’t keep you all; we just wanted to share the good news in person.”

“Thank you so much, Simon,” Niall gushed, incredulity still clear on his face.

“Yeah, this is amazing,” Zayn grinned, reaching out to shake Simon’s hand. “We’re so grateful.” Liam nodded vehemently, words still eluding him. Louis caught Harry’s eye and found his own sense of foreboding reflected back at him.

“My absolute pleasure, boys,” Simon said as he got to his feet, indicating the door and thus the end of the meeting. They’d all stood and begun to shuffle towards the exit when he spoke again. “Louis and Harry, if we could have a quick word with the two of you before you go.” There it was.

Louis screwed his eyes shut to compose himself before turning back to the desk and re-taking his seat, and Harry followed. The others filed out, shooting worried glances in their direction but saying nothing. The door clicked shut and Simon turned his attention back to the two boys in front of him. Although the smile had not left his face, there was a frostiness in his tone that hadn’t been there moments before.

“So, are you two excited about the news?” Simon asked, tilting his head as he waited for their response.

“Yeah, it’ll be wicked to get to perform in America,” Louis responded carefully. It always felt like a mistake to give too much away when talking to Simon.

“It’s the dream,” Simon said simply. “Of course, you two know better than anyone that achieving your dreams also takes some sacrifice, don’t you?” Louis saw Harry nod sadly out of the corner of his eye. “We’ve all been working hard for your success here and, all things considered, it’s going well.”

“Yeah, 10.6 seconds the tickets sold out it in, wasn’t it?” Louis asked pointedly. He wasn’t going to let Simon treat them like a liability.

“Exactly,” Simon agreed tonelessly, but his eyes flashed. “As I said, all of our hard work is paying off. However, the deal with Columbia will mean some changes. For all of you, but you two in particular.”

“Meaning?” Louis demanded coldly.

“What do you know about Taylor Swift?” Simon asked throwing Louis off-kilter with the change of topic. He caught Harry’s eye and he seemed just as confused.

“She’s a singer,” Louis shrugged.

“A very popular singer,” Simon corrected. “She’s becoming a household name in the States as we speak. She’s selling out concerts, her record sales are through the roof and her demographic is essentially identical to yours. The trajectory she’s currently on is exactly what we’re aiming for.” Louis nodded minutely to show his understanding but remained silent. “She’s young, she’s pretty and she’s Christian – that makes her the perfect role model for her demographic.”

“Sounds like she has it all figured out,” Louis said shortly. “What’s that got to do with us?”

“She’s who those girls what to be,” Simon continued evenly. “Theoretically, you can be who they want to be with. It’s a ready-made fanbase, if you know how to appeal to it.”

“I think I can guess,” Louis muttered and Harry shifted uncomfortably next to him.

“We can’t afford to let the rumours about you two follow you across the pond,” Magee stated firmly. “We need to put an end to all the speculation once and for all before we enter the American market.”

“We’re doing everything you’re telling us to,” Louis retorted hotly. “We can’t do anything more than – ”

“A denial,” Magee interrupted. “On television, with an audience.”

“What, just flat-out lie?” Harry asked aghast. “I can’t do that.”

“It’s not optional,” Magee sneered cruelly. “We’ve managed to secure you a deal with an American label. This isn’t small change anymore, gentlemen. There are tens of  millions of dollars at play now and the stakes are high.” Harry glanced around at Louis, panic clear on his face. “It’s time to toughen up and do what needs to be done. Because I promise you, the US market is cut-throat; the first sign that you’re not performing as expected and they’ll eat you alive.” Louis was dumbfounded. Perhaps because for the first time, there was no delicate phrasing hinting at what they might be giving up; there was no hopeful suggestion of a better life for their families; there was no insinuation that that they’d be betraying their bandmates if they didn’t comply. Instead, Magee was laying it out baldly: there was real money involved now and they would do as they were told. Harry Magee was a man who didn’t mess around when it came to money. Things were different now.

“I’ll do it,” Louis mumbled softly, avoiding Harry’s eye. He knew he was looking at him and he could picture the hurt and disbelief on his face. “I’ll do the denial statement or whatever. Anything else?”

“You need to stop side-stepping questions about Eleanor,” Simon told him. “Start referring to her as your girlfriend. Use the word.”  Louis swallowed thickly and nodded. “And you’ll have to stay at Caroline’s house, Harry. It’s much too easy to dismiss you as friends currently.” Louis heard a sharp inhale of breath from his side and he felt his throat burn.

“You’re not to tweet one another from now on,” Magee added as an afterthought. “Unless it’s been approved by the Social Media team. We’ve arranged for some intensive media training for all of you prior to your US visit, so further parameters will be clarified then.”

“Is that everything?” Louis forced out, trying to keep his voice steady.

“For now,” Simon replied ominously as they all stood to leave. Simon held the door open as Louis and Harry scuttled through, desperate to get out of the office. The very air in there felt oppressive. As they reached the welcome coolness of the corridor, Simon spoke again. “And boys?” They both looked at him. “Congratulations on your new deal.” He smirked as he snapped the door shut in their faces.

***

“You shouldn’t have agreed to it,” Harry spat, eyes glittering angrily. “You just went along with it.”

“What was I supposed to do, H?” Louis pleaded, trailing after Harry as he stormed through the hallway. “You heard what he said. We’re in too deep now. It’s not like we can just say no anymore.”

“You didn’t even fucking try!” Harry cried, hands balled into tight fists as he threw himself down on the sofa. “You just agreed so easily.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Louis countered, kneeling down between Harry’s knees to bring them face to face. “Nothing about this is easy, Harry. I just didn’t see any other way.” He brought his hand up to cup Harry’s jaw, but Harry twisted away, angry tears streaking down his face.

“How could you agree to do this, Louis?” he choked out, his voice raw and trembling. “How could you agree to just announce to everyone that we’re nothing?”

“I don’t know what else to do, baby,” Louis whispered, tears threatening to spill over.

“I could never – “ Harry trailed off, shaking his head gently.

“Please, baby,” Louis tried again to cup his face. This time, Harry let him. “I don’t want to do it, but I have to do it for us. We don’t have a choice. It’s a lie, H; just a lie. Just words. It doesn’t mean anything.” Harry shook his head weakly, exhausted. “It doesn’t mean I love you any less. I promise you.” Harry sobbed softly and Louis’ tears trickled down his cheeks, too. “I’m so sorry I have to do this. I’m so sorry.” Louis pressed his forehead to Harry’s and they breathed one another in and out as they cried quietly together.