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“Are you sure that you two aren’t dating?”
Louis forces his gaze away from Harry’s scrunched face and looks to Nick, already rolling his eyes, “Yes, Nicholas, we’re sure. There are these neat things called ‘friends’, perhaps you’ve heard of them, and me and Harry are the best kind and best kinds of friends don’t screw each other on the sly. ”
Harry touches his fingers to Louis’s hip, shaking his head with a grin, “Louis, I’ve already told you that Nick is fragile and you need to be nicer, babe.” He chastises, poking his tongue out a bit, leaning infinitesimally closer.
Louis huffs up at Harry and turns back to Nick, “Sorry.” He says easily, shrugging one shoulder and leaning back into the lockers further. Louis likes Nick, he really does, but getting asked a thousand times a day if he’s fucking his best friend gets tiring. And Nick has a unique interest in their love life that most other people don’t have anymore. Not since they denied dating for the millionth time.
And, yeah, Louis gets it. He understands how they appear to everyone outside their little world. Even now for example, Louis knows how it looks when they stand in the way they are now. Louis backed into the lockers, the toes of their shoes touching as Harry leans on a forearm by Louis’s head. It practically screams ‘jock-putting-the-moves-on-the-head-cheerleader’ but it’s just convenient for them because they can argue in peace.
Which, they were. Louis just told Harry that he is a huge dickhead for not supporting Man U, Harry’d pulled a face in reply and Louis was about to pull it right back before Nick interrupted. Which, like, rude.
Nick shakes his head, raising an eyebrow, “You two are actually huge dickheads if you think this little love fest is how friends act. Even the best kinds don’t do this.” He gestures in their general direction vaguely, “This is what boyfriends do when they’re about to mack between classes because a few hours apart is too much.”
Louis ignores the way his cheeks flush a bit at the thought, “Your obsession with us is a bit sad, Nicky. Are you lonely? Jealous that you aren’t this close to me and Haz? Nothing to be jealous of, babe, you just gotta ask.” Louis teases, giving him a wink and shoving Harry’s hand away when he gets a pinch on the hip.
Nick scoffs, “Wouldn’t want to break up the school’s hottest couple. Just thought you should know that this little not-flirting act isn’t fooling anyone. We all know you’re boning.” He says, raising his hands and pretending to ‘drop the mic’ before grinning and walking off.
Harry snorts and presses up against the locker beside Louis, “You know, if I got half as much action as everyone thinks I do, I’d probably not be this stressed about exams.” He says thoughtfully, dropping a hip and quirking the corner of his mouth.
Louis smacks his cheek a bit, “And I’d probably give even less of a fuck about the exams. Though, admittedly, there isn’t much less to give.” He agrees before nodding his head towards the gym, “Got PE on the oval today and you have History all the way in B Block so I’ll see you this arvo’?”
Harry nods, grinning, “See you this afternoon, baby. Try not to watch me walk away; we all know you want my body.” He taunts with a wink, jogging off before Louis can smack him again.
Louis watches after him without really thinking about it, tucking his books under his arm and laughing when Harry starts wiggling his hips obnoxiously. He schools it into a scowl when Harry glances over his shoulder but it’s useless. He has a huge smile on his face by the time Harry’s looked forward again.
~*~
“Oi, Tommo! Heard the news?” Zayn shouts from across the cafeteria, hand in hand with Liam, practically dragging Louis and Harry out of their little bubble, waving the yearbook at them. He’s a got a smile on his face that Louis doesn’t quite trust, too mischievous and almost brash.
Louis tenses a bit, “No…?” He says slowly, pushing away the mandarin segment Harry tries to put in his mouth while he’s distracted and shoving a potato chip in instead, “On a scale of one to Liam’s buzzcut, how bad is it?”
Liam squawks from next to Zayn as they both arrive at the table, reaching a hand up to his hair even though it’s long since grown out. Zayn rubs an absent hand over his boyfriend’s hair, murmuring, “You looked badass, babe, ignore him.” Dropping the book on the table, Zayn flicks it, “Open it to page 27.”
Louis takes it with a deep sigh – he should be used to Zayn’s theatrics by now but he isn’t. Whoever told him that Zayn is ‘too cool, Louis, we can’t talk to him, he’s way more mature’ when Zayn transferred a few years earlier was so, so wrong. It was probably Niall. Flicking to the page as slowly as he possibly can to piss Zayn off, he bites the stupid mandarin piece out of Harry’s hand, purposely closing his teeth around Harry’s fingers as punishment.
Niall drops his tray on the table and makes a disgusted face, “Ugh, is that foreplay? That looks like foreplay. If that is foreplay, I really have to give Harry more shit about fruit getting him off, honestly.”
Harry throws his mandarin skin at him, “Get fucked, Niall,” He snaps, only for a devilish smirk to take over his face, “It’s not me who gets off on it.”
Niall pretends to gag as Louis elbows Harry in the ribs, rolling his eyes and finally reaching the page, “What exactly am I looking for, Zayn?” He finds the answer to his own question a second later, dropping the book and glaring around the cafeteria, “Nick did this, didn’t he? Where is that moose-looking motherfucker?”
Zayn bursts out laughing, clapping his hands like a stupid seal, Harry looking over Louis’s shoulder with a frown. Louis shoves the book away, not totally wanting Harry to see because for all the joking that goes around their friendship group about his and Louis’s relationship, he is also a bit worried that Harry will get fed up with it and it’ll fuck up whatever they are.
And being voted ‘School’s Hottest Couple’ could do exactly that.
No, Harry’s not exactly straight, he’s not exactly gay, either, but even he will eventually get tired of having to explain their relationship to people that he actually wants to be with. Louis’s gotten sick of it before, like when Greg had rejected him because he ‘wouldn’t want to get in the middle and cause problems’.
Louis’s long since gotten over it because he could never date someone who would have an issue with him and Harry’s Thing, but he doesn’t know where Harry stands. Harry doesn’t say anything about it, very rarely denies their many dating rumours and probably provokes it more than anything but.
But.
Harry laughs from beside him, “They could have chosen a better photo.” He complains with a snort, flicking the picture of them. It’s just one from Facebook, both of them sitting; Harry’s arm around his shoulder as he sticks his stupid tongue out, Louis crossing his eyes at the camera. It’s the same type of picture that he has with basically everyone in this group – that’s his go-to face when getting his picture taken.
The only noticeable difference he can see is the finger he has hooked around Harry’s belt loop, the big hand high up on Louis’s thigh. And, like, so what? They’re just touchy friends, all five of them are, and there is no difference between Louis pinching Liam’s nipple and Harry pinching the skin just beneath the waist of Louis’s jeans. Probably.
“Fucking Nick.” Louis hisses again, shutting the book and rolling his eyes, “He’s definitely getting a punch to the dick later.”
Niall takes a bite of his apple, “You do realise that the whole school votes on this stuff. You voted for Taylor and Calvin, remember?” He asks, talking around the food in his mouth and almost dribbling fruit juice everywhere. Niall is such a grub. A cute one but a grub nonetheless.
Liam makes an affronted noise, “You didn’t vote for me and Z? What the fuck, Louis, where is your loyalty?” He hisses, throwing his hands in the air, “Why doesn’t anyone vote for Zayn and I? We’re cute as fuck and they haven’t been dating nearly as long and they aren’t even an official couple yet! And you and Harry aren’t even a fucking couple at all!”
Louis holds up his hands, “I just think they look cute, okay? Walking in on you and Zayn fucking has scarred me and all that gross flirting you do is disgusting. Us lonely people don’t like you couples shoving your cuteness in our faces, mate.” He says, pouting at Liam in a way that will make Liam go a bit easier on him.
It apparently doesn’t work, “Please, Zayn and I are tame compared to you and Harry – you’re disgusting. All dimply and twinkly eyed. It’s so gross. And you walked in on us one time, christ, and it’s not like we were going all the way, we were just -”
Louis holds up a hand, “Ugh, stop, I’m going to vomit. Seeing Zayn’s mouth on your dick is not something I want to remember.” He breaks in before Liam’s words really register, “And, once again, Harry and I aren’t actually dating so there isn’t any gross flirting going on over here, thank you.”
Harry runs a hand down Louis’s back, scrunching his face up a bit, “I don’t know, Lou, you do get awfully coy with me.” He says, grabbing Louis’s wrist when he goes to slap his cheek, “Oi, don’t hit me because you got caught out. Save it for tonight.”
Louis lets his hand go limp in Harry’s grip, “Please. If I was going to flirt with you, we’d actually be dating. No one can resist the Tommo.” It’s a bit arrogant, the way he says it, but mostly it’s. Well, flirty. Louis ignores the thought.
“More like Tommo the Tease.” Harry all but purrs, elbowing Niall and getting a chuckle in reply.
Louis takes advantage of the loose grip and smacks Harry’s cheek, too light to actually hurt but hard enough to call Harry’s attention back to him, “Can’t be a tease if we’re fucking twenty-four-seven, can I?” He asks, grinning when Harry’s eyes glint with amusement and he murmurs ‘of course not, baby’.
If he also ignores the way it makes him feel nice to have Harry look at him…well, no one has to know.
~*~
“I’ve got to go to work but you can hang here if you want, it’s a short shift so I’ll be back in, like, four or five hours. You’ll probably sleep for most of it.” Harry says with a grin, leaning a hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest, eyes following Louis as he moves about the kitchen, making coffee for two. Anne will want one soon.
If Harry wanted coffee, he should have made it.
Louis’d stayed the night when they drove home from school together, like usual, and had gotten up with Harry at five-fifteen, bothering him while he’d tried to get ready to get to the bakery by six. Louis insisted that throwing the pillows at Harry’s head from the bed was helpful, teaching him to ‘dodge whatever comes his way’ or some other bullshit. If Harry didn’t like it, he didn’t have to give the pillows back every time Louis begged for them. Obviously.
Louis nods, speaking through a yawn, “’Kay, I’ll wait for you to get back. Might work on my English assignment but…yeah, I’ll probably have a nap.” He admits, getting a laugh in response as he smiles up at Harry, “Bring me home some cookies?”
Harry nods, “’Course. The choc chip ones?” When Louis bobs his head in reply, Harry copies, “I’ll bring you some if you order a pizza for lunch and save me some? There’s a bit of money up in my desk drawer.” He holds out a pinky for Louis to promise. God, you forget to order food one time and you’re held accountable for life.
Louis rolls his eyes but links their pinkies together anyway, “Deal. I’ll see you soon-ish, then.” Louis reaches up on his toes when Harry bends down to brush their lips together, their fingers still caught together between them. Dropping back onto his feet, Louis spins to pour the boiling water into the two mugs set out, “See ya, Haz, have a good time at work.”
Harry touches a hand to Louis’s hip briefly, “See you later, Lou, love you.” Then the door is shutting between them and Harry’s car starts up, revving loudly before he pulls out and is gone from sight.
That’s when it hits Louis what just happened.
Smacking a hand to his mouth, Louis drops the kettle, narrowly avoiding covering his feet in the scalding water. As it is, it splashes all over his hand, hot and fucking painful. “Fuck!” Louis hisses, turning on the tap and shoving his hand under the cold water, leaning against the bench, “Fuck.” He says, much quieter.
“Fuck indeed.” Anne agrees from the doorway, scaring the shit out of Louis and making him jump, “I didn’t know you and Harry had sorted your shit out and got together. Why was I not informed immediately, Louis Tomlinson?” She demands, planting her hands on her hips.
Louis fishmouths at her, “I…I – I – Christ, I didn’t know we did.” He says, eyes wide and cheeks going bright red, “Oh my god, why did that even happen? That just happened, right?”
She laughs a tad hysterically and comes over to him, inspecting his hand when she notices it reddening, “Yes, it just happened, Boo.” She admits, smiling at him in sympathy, “Your hand will be alright. Can’t say the same for your emotional wellbeing. You look like you’re having a conniption.”
Louis nods, “Yeah, I’m really freaking out.” He says honestly, no point in lying to the woman who knows him just as well as his own mother. Louis should have known all of this would come to a head, that something would happen. His relationship with Harry has been building, this odd kind of tension growing, and it’s not surprising that it happens so soon after that stupid yearbook stunt.
But, christ, they just kissed. And it felt good. Too good. Then Harry told him that he loves him and that he’d see him later. Like a married couple or something. God, is this what a relationship feels like? With a start, Louis realises that since he and Harry got really close, some four years earlier, he’s never really tried to pursue anyone.
There was Greg but that was just a wannabe-fling at a party and it only happened because. Well. He was sure Harry’d hooked up with someone and Louis’d wanted to not think about it.
Turning to Anne, he grabs her hands, startling her, “Anne, how long have I been in love with your stupid kid?” He blurts, interrupting whatever she was saying about his burn, “Like, have I been in love with him the whole time? Why wasn’t I told when you realised? You could have warned me, jesus.”
Anne rolls her eyes, grinning, “How on earth should I know? You’re the one that’s in love. But I’ve thought you’ve been in love since the start. Since you guys were thirteen or fourteen? I know he’s been arse over curls for you since about then and I thought you were dating the whole time so I definitely thought you felt the same. Just minus the curls part. You were arse over bowl cut.”
Louis winces, “Ugh, we don’t talk about that haircut.” He says quickly, shaking his head, “What do I do now then? We just kissed and you can’t just play that off and I can’t blame him because I leant into it and holy shit, Anne, I’m in love with a fucking giraffe. I’m in love with Melvin. Does that make me Gloria? Am I a hippo, Anne?” He questions hysterically, gripping her hand tighter and tighter.
The sharp smack to his cheek comes as a bit of a shock, “Sorry, sorry! You were freaking out and I didn’t know what to do, love!” She says in shock, patting over his cheek a bit worriedly before giving it another light tap, “And my son is not a giraffe.”
Louis laughs a bit in surprise, “Yeah, sorry. Um. I think I’m gonna go wait up in his room and try to calm down a bit. Thank you, Anne. I appreciate your help.” He tells her earnestly, pecking her cheek before scurrying the fuck out of there.
He loves her to bits but he’s freaking the fuck out and he doesn’t want to get smacked again. He briefly wonders if maybe he should stop smacking Harry too but it’s fleeting and of course he’s going to keep smacking Harry. It’s not a violent thing, it’s an affectionate thing and now that he’s thinking about it, maybe it’s his weird way of getting Harry’s attention back on him.
He probably could have chosen anything else but. Well, he likes the way Harry holds his hand when he doesn’t feel like getting the small slap to the cheek and no one can deny that it’s effective.
Closing the door behind him, Louis stares at the bed. He should have known they cuddled way too much to be platonic. He doesn’t remember when they stopped sleeping like buds, with a respectable distance between them, and when he started waking up with Harry all crowded up behind him, when he started waking up koala-hugging the taller lad.
It’s hurting his head to think about so he climbs into the bed, burrowing into Harry’s side because it smells like home and goes back to sleep.
~*~
The snick of the door wakes him up for the second time that day and by the slant of the sunlight coming through the curtains, Louis can tell he’s been asleep for a few hours. He is so not ready to be awake. Rolling around to face the door, Louis stretches to get the cricks from his joints, arching off the bed. He can’t have this talk without being properly mobile. He talks with his hands, okay.
And there is nothing that has happened yet that is any different to any other morning where Harry comes back from work and wakes Louis up, but now Louis is acutely aware of how Harry’s eyes follow the curl of his body, how they linger on the place where Louis’s shirt is slipping up a bit. Self-consciously, Louis tugs the blanket back up around his shoulders and looks up at Harry from his spot on the bed, “Do we need to talk, Haz?”
Harry sighs, chucking his keys onto the desk and yanking his work shirt over his head, “Yeah, we probably should.” He admits, rummaging through his wardrobe until he finds his softest threadbare tee and his comfiest sweatpants. The ones that he always wears when Louis sits in his lap for serious talks. How has Louis not noticed their not-so-platonic routines sooner?
Kicking away the blanket, Louis shuffles over while Harry gets undressed, not bothering to look away while Harry changes because it’s nothing he’s never seen before and he will not get shy around Harry now. As soon as Harry is situated on his side of the bed, Louis is crawling over to sit in the curve of Harry’s crossed legs, crossing his own behind Harry’s back, “You can start.”
Harry glares at him but sets his hands on Louis’s hips like he always does as Louis’s twist in the front of Harry’s shirt, “Um, I guess I should say that I wasn’t planning on kissing you this morning. It wasn’t, like, a conscious action. It just kind of happened and I don’t want it to make things all complicated because it doesn’t need to be. We’ve been building up to this for a long time, you know?” Harry says, leaning back against the headboard and softly running the pads of his thumbs over Louis’s hipbones.
Louis nods, “Yeah, I do know.” He says honestly, no point in lying. If they want to keep the solidarity of their relationship intact, they’ve no time for miscommunication. They’re normally really good at talking about everything, sitting in this exact position, but apparently they’ve ignored the most important thing, “I think it’s been sort of a long time coming. This has probably been on the cards for a while now.”
Harry snorts, “Well, I mean, we’ve been dating for almost three years. Obviously the relationship talk was coming.” He laughs, shaking his head and dropping his gaze to watch where his fingers are toying with the waistband of Louis’s pajama pants. It’s not sexual, simply comforting, but Louis has other things to focus on because, like, what?
“Three years? What are you talking about?” Louis asks in confusion, fingers tightening in the material over Harry’s stomach, “Since when? I don’t remember being asked on any dates, Haz.”
Harry raises an eyebrow, grin turning a bit smug, “Okay, well, I didn’t actually tell you that they were dates. I just…dated you, I guess. Did you really think going to fancy restaurants or the movies or for a long walk or for ice cream nearly every Friday night wasn’t our date night? C’mon, Lou, we’d go out together and go home and cuddle all night and I’d make you breakfast in the morning. Doesn’t get much more date-like without us banging as well.”
Louis flushes at the bluntness, the realisation that, yeah, it was all there for him to figure out. They’ve been having their Friday nights for…well, three years. Since Harry’d asked Louis to go see The Avengers with him one Friday and then they just…kept doing things. It wasn’t even discussed, it was just their night. The only reason they didn’t do anything last night was because Louis was sleepy so they watched a movie in bed. They’d even take turns paying. And they do go home and cuddle and Harry always makes Louis pancakes on a Saturday, if he hasn’t got the early shift.
They are a bloody couple – and a damn well committed, serious one at that. All that is missing is the sexual component, honestly.
“Have you been sneak dating me?” Louis demands, sliding his hands up over Harry’s chest to hold his shoulders, “Without my permission? The nerve, Harry, honestly.” He says accusingly, pinching at Harry’s skin and grinning.
Harry lets out a bark of laugh, “I don’t remember you resisting, baby. And I was stealth dating you, actually.” He says easily, grinning in the way that makes his eyes turn to crescents, dimples out in full force. His hands slip up Louis’s back, pulling him in so their chests are pressed tighter together.
Louis scoffs, fingers tangling in Harry’s hair, “What the bloody hell is the difference?”
Harry shrugs one shoulder, tipping his head up a bit so their lips are closer, what with Louis being taller in this position, “There isn’t one, really, but ‘stealth’ sounds like it requires a bit more finesse and ability.” He admits earnestly, the big, beautiful dummy, and Louis is entirely endeared as he tightens his legs so they’re pressed even closer together.
He just shakes his head, laughing softly, “You’re a dickhead.” Harry looks vaguely mock-offended, opening his mouth to argue back and Louis doesn’t even realise that he’s opened his own mouth again until his ears are registering his words, “I love you.”
Harry blinks a bit, looking a bit dazed and entirely flushed, so Louis surges forward to kiss him on the lips quickly, pulling away to breathe ‘I love you’ into the space between them before doing it three more times. Harry’s fingers dig into the low of Louis’s back when he finally closes the distance between their lips in a proper kiss, one hand coming up to grip Louis’s chin to guide their lips better.
Louis melts into it, going boneless in Harry’s lap with the first swipe of Harry’s tongue. The kiss is as innocent as it can be in the position they’re in, each brush of their lips sweet, each touch of tongues almost bashful, all of it entirely addicting. When the need to breathe becomes too great, Louis pulls away first, pressing his forehead to Harry’s and panting in the space between them, “I love you.” He repeats and he’s probably never going to get over the rush of saying it.
Harry grins, pressing one more kiss to Louis’s lips, “I love you so much, baby.” He says easily, like he has a thousand times before, and while that’s not untrue, it’s a different kind of I love you that feels infinitely better and Louis will probably never get over hearing those words said to him either. Not when Harry’s whispering it on a continuous loop as he slowly noses his way down to bury his face in Louis’s neck.
Louis just tightens his hand in Harry’s hair, smoothing the other down his back, “Do you think people are going to ask if we’re sure we’re dating when we’re macking in between classes now?” Louis asks quietly into the calmness of the room, smiling when Harry pulls back to laugh loudly, tossing his head back as he claps his hands. It wasn’t that funny but Louis is flustered by the theatrics of it all anyway. He barely has any notice before Harry’s lurching forward, further and further until Louis falls onto his back and Harry’s hovering over him.
Using one hand to hitch one of Louis’s knees higher on his hip, Harry grins down at him, “Definitely. And it’s pretty obvious that we’re going to be macking whenever possible, regardless of the situation, so get ready to get asked a lot…and I guess this means we can’t not accept the title of ‘School’s Hottest Couple’ now. Zee and Li are gonna hate us.” Harry tells him, pouting at Louis in sympathy, “Also, no punching Nick in the dick now.”
Louis groans, long and drawn out, “Damn it, I was so looking forward to that-” it’s cut off by Harry pressing their lips together again so Louis can’t really complain. He can’t really complain about anything because he does get to kiss Harry in between classes and on the weekends and whenever he wants for a long time.
(He might also get to punch Nick in the dick but that’s neither here nor there.)