chapter 4

Sixteen hours later, Louis wakes up. The room is full if muted light, blinds closed but evening sun peeking through. Harry’s nowhere to be seen, but when Louis pays closer attention, he discovers the bathroom door is shut. That’s probably where Harry is.

Louis doesn’t want to move. While lying still in bed, he remembers that the boy in the bathroom is infatuated with him, nervous, and eager to prove himself. Louis might not have to move.

“Hey, Harry?” he calls.

Almost immediately, the bathroom door opens. Harry comes out, wet hair sticking up in every direction except the way it’s supposed to. He’s just got a thin white shirt on and a loose pair of jogging shorts, and somehow it’s the best he’s ever looked.

“Yeah?” Harry asks eagerly.

“Shower looks good on you,” Louis says without thinking.

Harry blushes deep red. “Oh.”

“I mean. Um. What time is it?”

“About five in the evening. Or afternoon? I’m not sure which it is. When does afternoon stop and evening start?”

Louis sighs, smiling at Harry with his non-squished eye. “Y’know, it’s probably just because I’m hungover, but you’re stupidly cute. Like Bambi, who keeps falling over. Keep this up on our date, angel, very much.”

He’s not making much sense, but Harry grins at him anyways. “You remember.”

“Of course I do, sweetums. A day off and we’re having a night in. I’m gay, you’re bi, we’re trying it out. Anything I’m missing?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head happily. “That’s it. I’m just… I showered too. So. We can get room service for dinner if you want? Or order in.”

Louis considers. “I don’t care,” he decides. “Whatever. You’re the one taking me on this grand adventure of a date. I just have to dress the part.” Louis pulls himself into a sitting position and examines his sleep shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. “Good to go,” he decides.

Harry lets out a laugh, delighted. “Okay. Gimme a minute.” He disappears back into the bathroom.

Louis gets up, stretching up tall and cracking his shoulders and elbows. “I don’t mean it,” he says loudly. “I can dress up if you want. I have shit.”

“Oh, good. You have ‘shit’.”

“Hey!” Louis comes to the bathroom door and leans on the frame. He gives Harry an appraising look. “That was sarcastic,” he says slowly. “I like Date Night Harry. Why aren’t you like this all the time?”

“I dunno. You could just date me more to find out,” Harry smiles.

Louis lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “Shit, kid. Ten points, very good. So should I get dressed or what?”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Harry shrugs. “And you’re kinda doing enough by even trying one night, so. Thanks. And no, don’t. You’re… cute. Do I get to say that? You look really cute.”

Louis’ face feels suddenly warm. “Um. Thanks. I guess that’s fine to say. But this can’t leave this room, alright? I don’t want to get in trouble and lose this job. I’m not a pop star, I really need the money.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry nods. “Sorry, definitely.”

“Alright. What film?”

“Do you like, um, like romantic comedies?” Harry asks shyly.

“Oh my God.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Are you kidding me? What, like… Pretty Woman?”

“Well. I was thinking Love, Actually, but-“

“Oh my God.”

Harry wants to giggle but he’s wide-eyed and nervous. “Or something else?” he offers. “We could watch something else.”

“No, no, go on. I guess it’s appropriate or whatever.” Louis sighs deeply and wonders how exactly this boy is managing to walk the line between obnoxious as all hell and as enticing as a guilty pleasure. And quite frankly, romantic movies are kind of Louis’ guilty pleasure, as much as that’s a bit of a stereotype.

Harry smiles in relief. “Oh. Okay. You’re sure? I don’t want to pick everything for you, this is your date too.”

“Thank you, darling. I’m okay. You’re sweet, don’t even worry. I’ve been on way worse dates. One time, this guy asked me if I’d ever consider selling my teeth. Another time, a bloke took a lock of my hair and attempted to make a voodoo doll. I promise this one’s great.”

“Well yeah, comparatively,” Harry grumbles. “I’d hope I’m better than a hair stealer.” He towels his hair off so it’s a little drier. “See, though, that’s the type of questions… like where do you even meet lads like that? Or any kind of lads at all. Gay ones, I mean. Hopefully nice ones, too.”

“Okay. Well. In an alternate universe where you’re not a pop star, I’d probably tell you to hang out at some gay bars. Ask some friends if they know any lads to set you up with. And there’s like, concerts and shit, like you wanna date someone who likes what you like. So.” Louis rubs over his face; thank God Harry is quiet, his brain is about to explode into a massive headache. “And don’t underestimate fate.”

“But I can’t do any of that,” Harry mumbles unhappily. “I can’t even ask anybody I fancy out.”

“Don’t get glum,” Louis says. “You asked me out. And I would certainly hope you fancy me.”

Harry’s eyes crinkle up in the corners with a genuine, beautiful smile. “I do.”

“Okay. So stop sulking your way through doing your hair and order me food.”

Harry’s smile grows. “Fine.”

He orders them pizza and gets the door when it comes. Louis has a cold beer, while Harry goes for a coke. “Aww, sweetheart. Have a drink. Loosen up, have fun,” Louis teases.

“I wouldn’t with anybody else, though,” Harry says. “I’d be too nervous that I’d make an idiot of myself. And I still think I might anyways. Also, you might put something in it. Well, not you, but another guy. Right?”

Louis considers. “That might be a good point. Okay. Well. Just keep an eye on your drink, y’know? And having one beer might loosen you up a touch.”

“Nah,” Harry decides. “Nervousness is good. I’ve been really stupid with you already.”

Louis shrugs. “Fair enough. So.” He sits against the headboard and takes a sip from his beer. “We have our beverages. We have our pizza and film. Let’s get this date started. So where you from?”

Harry giggles. “You really don’t know?”

“’Course I don’t, I referred to you as ‘the youngest’ until we shared a room for the first time, I think. I still don’t know the moral one’s name, and I’m not so sure about the blonde, either. Where you from?”

“Holmes Chapel, in Cheshire.” Harry’s grinning. “You don’t know that.”

“Aww. Just a small-town boy, yeah?”

“Yeah. I… how… I think this is the first time I’ve ever… like in two years, everybody I talk to always knows more about me than I know about them. But you don’t? You really don’t.” Harry seems stunned.

“I really don’t. If anything, you have the advantage. It seems you’ve done your research about me, if I remember correctly. Weirdo.”

Harry giggles and then kind of cuts off. “Ouch,” he complains.

“What?”

“I snorted coke up the back of my nose.”

“Ironic,” Louis says, then remembers he’s supposed to be sympathetic. “Are you alright? Sorry. Are you?”

“I’m fine,” Harry pouts. “I can’t stop making an idiot of myself, though.”

“That’s how a first date goes, m’dear.”

“Well why aren’t you nervous, then? That would only be fair.”

Louis sighs. “Because, Haz, I’m unflappable. It’s part of my charm.” He does feel bad for Harry, though; his hands are shaking. So he kisses Harry’s cheek and coaxes one of his hands away from his coke can so Louis can lace their fingers together. “Alright. So you’re from Cheshire. I’m from Yorkshire, so you know. What do you like to do for fun?”

“Um. Well I sing.”

“Well I sing,” Louis imitates his voice. “Twat. I mean outside of the band. Don’t mention the band, okay? Two normal blokes on a date.”

Harry glows. “Yeah, alright. Um. I write? A little, when I have the time. I don’t know how good I am, but it makes me feel a lot better when there’s something I can’t say, y’know, otherwise. Oh, and I get tattoos for that too, sometimes.”

“For what? ‘Cause there’s no real rhyme or reason to how you’ve got those scattered across your body, far as I can tell.”

“Well, there’s a little reason,” Harry smiles. “Um, I mean they won’t let me tell anybody, like I said, but it’s… it’s who I am. So. I just. I don’t want to forget.”

Louis rolls his eyes and sighs, but he’s really only fond. He’d kiss him if Harry were anyone else. So why the hell not; he kisses him anyways, a peck on the cheek that feels a bit greasy from the pizza. “Cute,” he says casually. When he glances over, he sees Harry trying his hardest not to grin and failing completely.

“And, um, I like old music and band shirts and stuff, y’know?” Harry says softly. “Vinyl. I’ve got lots of it. And. Like, from thrift shops, not from… I don’t pay a lot of money for it. I just like old stuff. A lot. So. Um. Honestly if we were anybody else, I’d probably take you to go shopping for it. Like, as a date.”

“Yeah?” Louis says curiously. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause then I could have an excuse to buy you something and snog you behind a coat rack,” Harry says with a straight face, then glances down and up at Louis with a little smile.

“Such a romantic,” Louis snorts. “Alright.”

“What would you do, like as a date?” Harry asks after a moment. “If we were anyone else.”

“Um. Well. If I were trying to take a silly sop like you somewhere on a date, I’d probably go traditional, dinner and a film. Just in public, y’know? And I’d pay for you as long as you didn’t go all ‘most expensive item on the menu’ on me.”

“I’ve been eating a lot of salads,” Harry assures him. “I’ll be a cheap date.”

“Alright. And to fulfill your little hipster thing, I’d probably take you out to stargaze before getting you home. So. There you go. But enough of that. Let’s watch the film.”

Harry puts his coke between his legs so he can eat a piece of pizza without letting go of Louis’ hand. “Okay. Um. Okay. Can I say… um, I’m kinda… I think you’re beautiful and really fantastic. I read everything you write about us. And when we stop dating, I’m gonna be totally okay with it. I promise I won’t be a twat. And as soon as I can come out, I’m gonna and I want you to write the first article. You can write about everything I’ve said to you, I promise.”

“Okay. Thank you, love, that’s very nice.” Louis is a bit stunned; he was just promised an exclusive. A definite exclusive payday in the future. It kinda reinforces how beautifully trusting Harry is with him – with everybody, really, but with Louis in particular. “You’re sure?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Harry nods. “You’ve been nice to me. I just want to be nice back. As soon as I can. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, babe. Honestly, you don’t have to do anything else. That would probably feed me for years, honey, that kind of exclusive. Thank you, that’s brilliant of you.” He kisses Harry on the cheek again.

Harry nods, then looks down. “Um. Are you… do you have money problems?” he asks after a moment.

“Impolite,” Louis frowns a little.

“I’m sorry. I just heard you saying to your sister. And I don’t… I mean, I don’t mean… I’m gonna start again. I think, um. I think you’re awesome, and I kind of don’t understand why I’ve got money if I can’t spend it on people important to me. And if you’re short on cash-“

“I’m not. This tour has me set up well, room and board and that.”

“Well, when we’re off-tour, then. I’m sure the lads would like, let you stay with them, rather than get a hotel or-“

“Why would I want to stay with any of them?” Louis scoffs.

Harry shrinks a bit. “I dunno, I thought… I’m sorry. I thought… you’d want to.”

“No, darling, what I mean is if we’re still… this, or whatever, then I’d like to stay with you. That’s what I meant,” Louis says. “God, how mean have I been to you? I’m sorry.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment, taking another bite. Then, abruptly, he leans against Louis’ shoulder, sprawling out comfortably. He stretches up to kiss Louis’ jaw, then snuggles back down. “I want to spend money on you,” Harry says quietly. “That’s what I meant. Can I?”

“Well. I don’t want an iPad,” Louis teases, to stall for time.

“Okay. I mean, I don’t mean like extravagant stuff. But. Like. I heard you talking with your sister? Lottie? And I’d like you to get her gifts. I love getting my sister stuff. Could I help you get her stuff?”

Louis doesn’t want that. He’ll never want that. He doesn’t need some beautiful idiot pop star to take care of him, and he doesn’t need a sugar daddy. It’s annoyingly enticing, though. So he doesn’t say no right away. “We’ll see,” he wrinkles his nose. “Thanks. Though. Can we start the damn film now?”

“Sure.” Harry picks it off the pay-per-view; of course he can pay for that. And Louis sighs as it begins. He doesn’t sigh too much, though, because this boy is beautifully excited when the cheesy dialogue begins. Louis thinks he’s developing a soft spot for him, which is highly inconvenient. The fact of the matter, though, is that Harry’s head feels very nice on his shoulder, and he’s generous, kind, and sweet.

Harry speaks up during a quiet spot. “Can I give you more exclusives?”

“Probably not,” Louis shakes his head. “Can’t get the scoop through nepotism or whatever the hell the term is. I’ll be laughed out of the business, honey. But thank you, I appreciate it. The thought. Y’know.” Louis kisses Harry’s forehead and settles back in to watch the movie, but then he adds, “Oh. And if we ever manage to go public, babe, then we’d probably have to make some kind of contractual agreement, y’know, not to play favorites with me. Not exactly fair, is it.”

“Is it? It seems fair. Isn’t there some kind of precedent? Or…”

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand tighter. “Not quite. Celebrity doesn’t tend to fall for media, y’know. Not in a Romeo and Juliet way… well, kinda in that way. But it’s not exactly wise.”

Harry nods, slipping closer. “But I don’t… I mean, do you think this will go any further than a few dates, though?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a fortune teller. That’s my only flaw. But I want to be up front with you, pop star.” He wipes his greasy hand off and wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I’ve gotta be a little perfect, y’know?”

“No, why?”

“Because if this comes out, I’m gonna come off as a gold digger. Who can’t find out a story on his own without sleeping with his subject.”

“Are we? Gonna sleep together,” Harry says softly.

“I don’t know. Not tonight.”

“Okay.”

More silence as they watch the rest of the film. Then, at the end, as the characters kiss, Harry sits up and kisses Louis. He’s still just tender.

“You could destroy me too,” Louis says without thinking. It only feels fair to let him know. “You could. If you do anything to me, it’s not like I could tell anyone and have them believe me.”

“Zayn,” Harry suggests.

“Well yeah, but. You get my point.”

“But I’d never.”

“Right. Well. That’s nice. But my point is that I couldn’t stop you. We’re kind of even, y’know? This is really dangerous for both of us, yeah?”

“Except after this, you’re allowed to say you went on a date with a bloke, and I’m not allowed to admit I even looked at one,” Harry says in a small voice, looking ashamed. “I’d have to lie.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. He pulls Harry close to him and kisses him gently. “Not to me,” he says when they separate.

Harry grins, so his teeth bump into Louis’ when they kiss next. He’s a little awkward, a little inexperienced. Louis doesn’t mind; he’s experienced enough for both of them, and he likes Harry enough not to mind anyways. He pulls him into his lap after a moment, laughing at how Harry has trouble folding up his limbs, like a baby deer. Eventually, he bends his legs up so he’s kneeling over Louis’ lap, hands locked behind his neck, and giggles a bit at himself.

“Y’ever kissed a boy before?” Louis asks curiously.

“Not really. In grade seven, I liked a boy. I kissed him. But not like this.”

“Have you kissed anyone like this?”

Harry blushes a little. “Um. I guess not.”

Louis rubs his hands over Harry’s hips and tickles up under his arms. “Really?” he asks, smiling at him. “Then you’re not doing too bad.” He kisses him again, really trying to feel it all this time. Harry’s shaking under his hands, nervous and trying so hard. He’s beautiful and eager to make Louis happy, and Louis was kind of horrible to him at first.

Louis remembers thinking he didn’t like a single person on this tour. He knows right now that he’ll always, always like Harry.

So he stops kissing him. “Hey.”

He can see Harry’s heart in his eyes. “Hey.”

“I hope you’re not doing this because you’re trying to make me like you.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head.

“Good. ‘Cause it’s working.”

Harry smiles in a most beautiful way, like he’s possibly about to cry, and ducks his head into Louis’ neck. “You’re fantastic,” he says. “You’re amazing. How can I repay you?”

“Don’t bother, babe. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Harry does exactly that, chest expanding against Louis’ as he heaves a deep breath and lets it all out again. “Can I room with you all the time?” he asks.

“It does seem to have its perks,” Louis teases him a little.

“Please?” Harry doesn’t seem to have a problem begging.

“Of course, honey, as much as I’m able to control it. Or you could just duck into bed with me when I’m with anybody else.” Louis pokes him in the side. “Since you already do that.”

“When have I ever done that?” Harry asks innocently.

“With Aiden.”

“Oh. Well that doesn’t count. He was awful. I’d never be able to… I mean I do everything not to share with him. He tries to make me upset.”

Louis pets Harry’s hair. “I was joking,” he assures him.

“Oh.”

“So what are we gonna do with the rest of our night, darling?”

“We could watch another film. Or we could… I dunno.”

“I believe there’s a pool downstairs.”

Harry goes a little breathless. “Yeah?”

“And I’d like to go swim in it. Maybe grab Zayn and the blonde? C’mon, kiddo, let’s have fun.”

“I don’t have swim-“

“Shut up, haven’t you ever jumped in naked? You’re a pop star. Take advantage of it, jump into a pool in your boxers, at least. C’mon, ring them up. Let’s go.” Of course Harry gives in. Louis calls Zayn and Harry calls blondie – Niall, Louis reminds himself. That one’s Niall. – and they all meet downstairs.

Harry obviously wants to hold his hand. Louis catches him reaching a few times in the elevator before stopping himself and he doesn’t mention it. Harry doesn’t ever follow through, so Louis lets it go. He slings his towel around his shoulders and shoves the end in Harry’s face to make him sputter. Harry’s wearing his like a rich lady’s scarf, over and around his head.

“Y’look like the Virgin Mary,” Niall pipes up. “Should call you the Virgin Harry.”

Harry tries to laugh, but blushes and looks down instead. Zayn’s texting. It falls to Louis to defend this boy. “Don’t be a twat, Irishman. I’m sure he’s pulled more than you, with these curls.” Louis fluffs out Harry’s hair and Harry preens.

“Has not!” Niall says indignantly.

“I know for a fact you haven’t had a single girl in your room for six weeks,” Zayn speaks up. “Just the facts, mate.”

Niall has gone all offended but Harry is glowing in flattered happiness. “Neither have I, though,” he says. “So, to be fair.”

Louis smiles accidentally, even though he’s trying to keep it hidden. Harry’s so God damn adorable. He practically offers himself up to be made fun of. He trusts everybody. And it’s stupid, but Louis likes that about him. “You don’t tell him that, twat,” he says gently, poking Harry in the ribs. “I was trying to give you a leg up.”

“I don’t want one,” Harry mumbles. “I just… we’re just teasing.”

Louis gives Niall a suspicious look. “Oh, yeah,” Niall speaks up then. “Right, I didn’t mean anything by it, Haz, don’t have a cow.”

“You’re so rich you have a cow?” Louis demands of Harry.

Harry knows him now; he smiles and cuddles closer, kind of molding himself to Louis a few inches away. “I could get you one,” he murmurs only loud enough for Louis to hear.

Louis slaps his arm. “Twat.” Zayn gives him a knowing look that Louis isn’t quite alright with. “So how did you spend your day off?” Louis asks him.

“Went out with Perrie,” Zayn answers calmly. “Her hair’s purple now.”

Louis gives him a slightly confused frown. “Thrilling information. I’ll be sure to include that on my blog.”

“I’ll sue you.”

“You’d thank me for the publicity and you’d be lucky.”

Zayn gets a disturbing glint in his eyes. “I’m going to shut your head in the elevator doors if you don’t leave my love life alone,” he threatens.

“Bloody hell,” Niall raises his eyebrows.

“Do it,” Louis dares him. “I’ve got freedom of speech, sir. So suck it.”

Zayn snorts. “There’s that eloquence.”

When the elevator doors open, Louis lingers in the doorway to taunt Zayn. Apparently, Harry doesn’t approve; he frowns, then abruptly wraps his arms around Louis’ waist from behind and hauls him out of the elevator door. Louis surprisingly really likes how this feels. He struggles for half a second, then lets himself enjoy the warmth and unexpected strength of Harry’s arms.

Harry hooks his chin over Louis’ shoulder. “No,” he mumbles. “No crushing.”

“Okay, no,” Louis says, and struggles out of Harry’s grasp because this is a little coupley for him. They went on one date. They aren’t dating. Niall gives him a bit of an odd look but leaves it at that, so Louis doesn’t do any backtracking. He pushes Harry off him and pokes a finger in the kid’s dimple while shoving his shoulder. “Go on,” Louis sighs, and bullies Harry towards the pool.

“Wait, though,” Niall speaks up, following them with Zayn. “You really aren’t going to write about this, right?” he asks. “’Cause I’m not very good at watching my words, y’know?”

Louis snorts. “Imagine that. No, I’m here to make you look good. I think the intention was that I gradually come to like you, so. No, no smear pieces or anything like that. I mean, if you say it, I can write it, but if you ask me not to, I probably won’t.”

“I asked him not to tell everybody I’m not really a womanizer,” Harry says softly. “’Cause I’m not allowed, y’know, to. To say management was lying or anything. And he’s kept that under wraps.”

He didn’t say that. Honestly, Louis couldn’t care less about Harry’s romantic history until tonight. He certainly won’t tell anyone now, but he doesn’t know why Harry said they agreed on this. He just smiles at Harry and nods. “Yeah, haven’t said a thing. You’re my lads, I’m here to tell them the truth.”

Harry’s blushing some more, Zayn grins, and Niall seems reassured. It’s getting altogether too mushy, so Louis strides ahead and goes into the pool room. He tosses his towel on a chair and sits on it to take off his shoes. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Harry claim the chair next to him. Zayn takes one on Louis’ other side, leaving one empty chair between them, and Niall sits next to Harry.

Louis glares at Niall for a moment before he can stop himself, feeling rather protective. Harry catches that; next time Louis looks at him, Harry’s smiling at him out from under his towel, a giant dumb grin that Louis blushes to see. He pushes Harry over onto his side and throws his towel over his head. “Stop being a twat,” Louis instructs him, pulling off his shirt and pajama pants. He waits for just a second to see if Harry gives him any kind of look – he does, an awed one – before running and diving into the pool.

Boxers are perfectly good swim shorts. He doesn’t know what Harry was on about. Louis dives down to the bottom, then pushes up off it. Niall cannonballs in a few feet away, Zayn sticks his ankles in, sitting on the side, and Harry does a front-flip off the diving board. He swims under water up to Louis and comes up a foot away, slicking his hair back from his face.

“Hi,” Harry says softly. He already smells like chlorine, and his eyes are luminous in the reflection of the water. He’s kind of gorgeous wet.

“Hey,” Louis says back. Harry is staring at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.” Louis splashes Harry in the face as he swims away and grins at him until he catches Zayn smiling. “What are you looking at, weirdo?” Louis demands.

“Nothing,” Zayn shrugs. “Liam’s coming down, is that alright? The moral one,” he clarifies when Louis stares blankly.

Harry giggles at the name and gives Louis a nod. “That’s great,” he agrees.

“I believe the nice man was talking to me,” Louis says haughtily.

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a dick. A pool party, alright?”

“Alright.”

So Liam comes down, and a couple kids from the band and crew. One of them turns on a radio. Aiden isn’t there, and everyone’s having fun. Especially Harry; he’s just happy and bouncy and shining, somehow, like he’s reflecting and magnifying everybody’s happiness. Louis feels lighter just looking at him, even when he’s being an idiot goofball. It’s cute.

Louis burns out a little towards the end, and sits in a chair to watch everything. He should probably write something about this; not getting an inside perspective of this would send some teenage girls into an apoplexy.

About three paragraphs in, Harry comes over, soaking wet and grinning. “Attempt to get me wet and I’ll end you,” Louis warns without looking up.

“Never.” Harry sounds hurt.

“Good.”

A few seconds later, Louis feels curly hair against his crossed legs. Harry’s sitting down in front of him, leaning back against Louis. Impulsively, Louis unfolds his legs and fits them over Harry’s shoulders. This was stupid, Louis knows, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, a few more seconds later, Louis feels big, warm hands over his ankles. Harry can circle Louis’ ankles completely.

“Let go,” Louis says a little sharply but affectionately. He nudges Harry’s chest with his heel. “We can’t do it like that, babe.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, letting go. Louis feels like an asshole. After a moment, he puts his phone in the waistband of his pants and leans forward to put his arms around Harry’s neck. He presses their cheeks tight together for just a second before drawing back a little. Just a little, though. He runs his hands through Harry’s wet hair in every possible way before completely letting go.

Harry’s positively giggling again, blushing like a school girl. And Jesus Christ, that’s tough not to fall in love with. Louis feels a twist in his gut at this boy, this stupid emotional soft boy that’s the opposite of everything Louis values or is attracted to. Harry’s an idiot, and Louis finds he doesn’t mind anymore.

Louis keeps his legs over Harry’s shoulders. Harry reaches up after a bit, and hooks his hand over Louis’ knee. His thumb rubs over a jut of bone slowly, gently, presses into the flesh.

This isn’t okay. This is public and not platonic and nobody was supposed to know that he agreed to pretty much a pity date with that child. They weren’t even supposed to know he liked him. But he can feel the excitement in Harry, he can feel how happy he is to be affectionate with a boy in public, and Louis would hate to take that away.

He has his job to think about, though. He has sisters who rely on him, and he has himself. He can’t do this. Maybe Harry can afford this, but Louis can’t.

He draws his legs back up and crosses them, shaking Harry’s hand off. “I can’t,” he says in a low voice. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Harry doesn’t seem angry. He nods. “I’m sorry. Yeah. Right, um. Will you just touch me?” he asks very softly. He knows other people might be listening; Louis keeps forgetting how savvy Harry can be sometimes. “Just like. I won’t hold you. But could it…”

Louis considers. He unfolds one leg and puts it back over Harry’s shoulder. “So can I get back to writing my blog now, please? I didn’t plan this pool party to be bothered by you all the time, God. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” Harry promises. “Enjoying myself. With you.”

“Dork.”

Harry smiles at Louis over his shoulder before settling back against the chair. Louis finishes his blog post.

So. As you can see, it was a pretty good day off. Tomorrow we’re leaving for the next city – somewhere north, I believe? Fuck if I know – and I’ll have a little less access to them on the journey. I promise I’ll store up a bunch of fun anecdotes to tell you later. I’m discovering the lads are pretty funny, when they unclench and have fun. Maybe I’ll give them a bit of another chance.

309 days to Bye5. Won’t hate them.