Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Here's to the one with the smoking stare

Running through my head with a bolo knife

Chopping up the threads made up from looms

Of love and blood and hate and some empty tunes”

                                              - Flip (Glass Animals)

Part One

Now

So yeah, it’s safe to say Louis isn’t exactly having the best day, what with finding out his ex-boyfriend is apparently the biggest manwhore in all of the United Kingdom. To be fair, it’s not like he’d actively been seeking out articles with Lothario Harry Styles plastered all over them; He’d even installed a special extension on his computer that was specifically supposed to block and filter out all mentions of ‘ Harry Styles ’ or ‘ Silver Dollar ’ or hell, even ‘ Battle of the Bands ’, just to be safe.

He’s taken extreme precautions to be sure he’d never run into a situation like this (and by like this , he means seeing the home screen of his browser plastered with picture after picture of his ex-boyfriend surrounded by a harem of semi-clothed, semi-famous women at some bar), so after the initial surge of jealous rage and bitterness, he finds himself more pissed off at his computer for not doing the one thing he actually needs it to do. Which is erase any and all mentions of Harry Styles.

It’s almost worse like this, when it comes out of the blue and he’s not expecting it. At least if Louis’ out in public somewhere, he’s always at least a little bit prepared to overhear Harry’s name mentioned in someone else’s conversation, or to catch a shot of him leaving some nightclub holding yet another nameless model’s hand on a television screen somewhere. But here, when he’s at home and his defenses are down, that’s when it really hurts. Because there’s only so many lies he can tell himself, and pretending he never loved Harry Styles definitely isn’t one of them.

Then

“Boys! Tea’s ready!” At the sound of Anne’s voice coming up the stairs, Louis hurriedly extracts his hand from Harry’s pants, ignoring the groan his boyfriend lets out.

“Lou,” he grumbles, his eyes wide and imploring like he knows exactly how to make Louis give him what he wants, but not this time. There are only so many risks Louis is willing to take when it comes to getting his boyfriend off while his mother is still home, and this is cutting it awfully close.

His suspicions are confirmed when they hear light footsteps padding up the stairs towards Harry’s room. The door cracks open a moment later, and Louis only has time to shoot Harry a quick ‘I told you so’ look before Harry’s mum walks in without knocking.

“Ah, there you are. Tea’s ready. Wasn’t sure if you’d heard me.” The thinly veiled suspicion in her eyes says otherwise, but Louis’ known Harry (and his mum) for far too long now to think anything badly of it. She and Louis’ mum had put a strict ‘door’s open’ policy in place as soon as Louis and Harry had made the transition from best friends to boyfriends but trying to give Harry a handjob with the door wide open wasn’t exactly something he was super comfortable with.

“Yeah, mum, we were just about to come.” Harry’s voice is so earnest that Louis himself can barely hear the thinly disguised amusement he has for his own word choice. Louis briefly debates elbowing him but thinks that might be too obvious (or, even worse, alert Anne to Harry’s less than polite double entendre).

Anne nods, letting the door rest against the frame but not closing it completely on her way out.

Louis waits until Anne’s footsteps are all the way downstairs before pouncing on Harry.

“We have all of 5 minutes before she comes back. How about I finish you off?” he gestures to the stiffy Harry’s still sporting.

Harry nods, biting his lip as Louis gets back down to business.

They’re both grateful that Anne doesn’t comment on the obvious love bite Louis’ sucked into Harry’s neck by the time they tumble down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Now

Louis lets himself stare at his computer screen for just a moment longer, his eyes taking in the subtle changes he hadn’t let himself notice about Harry in the nearly 10 months since they’d last spoken. His hair is longer, for one, and his clothes are far more expensive. He also appears to have racked up quite the extensive collection of tattoos (as opposed to the small cluster he’d sported on his left arm before they’d broken up).

Beyond the shallow differences, though, the main things Louis registers is that Harry appears far more closed off. His smile is brilliant, always has been, but there’s something missing in his eyes. They look blank, like he’s not even really there. Louis can’t let himself think about it too much, lest he actually start to feel sympathy rather than loathing. He angrily slams his laptop shut, forcing himself to breathe in and out even though he feels like he’s being sawed in half from the inside.

It still hurts, is the thing.

Yeah, it’s been nearly a year, but Harry was more than just his boyfriend. He was his best friend, his bloody soulmate for fuck’s sakes. Losing him had hurt more than anything Louis had ever experienced in his life, and he’s still not sure he’ll ever really recover from it. Especially considering how abruptly it happened. He’d had no warning. No way of knowing that their last fight would be the last time they ever spoke.

Louis can feel the panic and the grief bubbling up beneath the surface again, and he does his best to shove it aside, really not in the mood for a break down. He scans the room wildly, looking for a distraction, when his eyes land on the piece of paper pinned to the corkboard on his desk.

He stares at the smudged ink on the surface, the phone number hastily scribbled across it, and he makes a decision. He walks towards it on unsteady feet, double checking the date tacked on at the bottom.

He still has time. Good. Maybe this day won’t be such a waste after all. He taps out the number, taking a deep breath before pressing call.

He resists the immediate urge to hang up when he hears a male voice on the other end, knowing that this opportunity is far too important to let himself fuck it up with self-doubt.

“Hi, this is Louis Tomlinson. I was told to give you a call if I was interested in coming in for an audition?”

Louis hangs up five minutes later with the time, date, and location of what he hopes will be the start of his own dreams coming true.

Fuck Harry Styles. And fuck reality television.

He’s got this.

Then

“Hazza, no, stop!” Louis tries to put as much force in his words as he can, but Harry’s making that rather difficult, what with the fact that he’s got his face pressed against Louis’ neck and is slobbering all over him like an overly eager puppy.

“Harry!” he tries again, but it comes out as more of a giggle than anything. Harry finally pulls away with a wide-eyed look, but Louis won’t be fooled by his feigned innocence.

“As I was trying to say before you slobbered all over me, I read about this really cool talent competition thing online earlier. I thought maybe we should look into it.”

Louis attempts to keep his tone casual and not betray how much he really wants to do it. He and Harry had dreamed of pursuing music together for years. They’d performed in local talent shows (and gotten quite the rave reviews, Louis’ not too humble to say) and they know that when their voices blend together, it sounds like magic.

And now it seems fate wants to nudge them along a bit. Louis had been bored during his spare (the one block he didn’t share with anyone he knew) and had been dicking around mindlessly on the internet when he’d stumbled across an advert for some new reality show set to premiere in a few months.

The premise was simple - a talent show in which people auditioned, hoping to become the next big thing. Louis had rolled his eyes at first, assuming it to be nothing more than an X-Factor rip off. It wasn’t until he skimmed the blurb in more detail that his heart started beating a little bit faster.

So, as it turns out, the show would be nothing like X-Factor. For starters, everyone auditioning had to be able to play at least one instrument in addition to being able to sing. As far as Louis could tell, the point of the show was to assemble five complete bands out of random auditionees and have them compete against each other on air. Viewers would vote, and each week one of the bands would be eliminated. Simple enough of a concept, but kind of revolutionary in how it functioned. At least, for reality television.

“And what’s this competition called?” Harry asks after Louis’ explained everything to him, his eyes bright with curiosity.

Louis grins, tugging on a lock of Harry’s hair playfully. “Battle of the Bands.”

Now

And what a stupid, uninspired name. Seriously? Battle of the Bands? Louis’ not sure how much of his annoyance stems from bitterness (sure it’s been almost a year, but he’s not nearly as over it as he pretends to be) and how much from artistic integrity. Either way, he’s not keen to waste any more of his time dwelling on the brief period of time before his relationship - and his life - went to absolute shit.

Which is exactly why Louis is standing here. He takes a deep breath and scans the intimidating brick building quickly before pushing open the front door and pressing the buzzer.

It might have taken him a while, but he’s finally done it. He’s plucked up the last vestiges of courage he can find and he’s doing something for himself.

He forces away the traces of fear still lingering in his stomach and puts on an air of confidence he really doesn’t feel.

He’s terrified, but he’s going to do it anyway. Because it’s the right thing to do.

That’s the difference between him and Harry Styles.

Then

Louis glances quickly at the front of the class to make sure their teacher isn’t paying attention before turning back to Harry. Despite their year age gap, they’re still able to share some of the same classes (namely, a math and science course Louis had put off as late as possible).

They’re huddled together in two desks in the far back corner of the room, their textbooks completely ignored.

“We sent in our form almost a month ago, surely we’d have heard back by now,” Harry mumbles glumly, picking at a hangnail. Louis frowns.

“H, they said it could take up to two months, and besides, auditions don’t even start for another couple of weeks.”

Harry looks up, his eyes wide. “I just want this so bad, Lou.”

Louis leans in quickly to give him a reassuring kiss. “I know, babe.” Before he can say anything else, the class suddenly goes quiet and Louis hears a throat clearing. His face floods as he turns to see their teacher staring at them, less than amused.

“Nice to see you’re so dedicated to your studies, boys.” Louis’ gaze drops down to the desk, but he can hear Harry murmur a quiet apology beside him.

He doesn’t raise his head until he can hear their teacher has walked away, and his eyes catch on a dark haired boy sitting a few desks away by himself. The boy flushes at being caught staring, and he immediately looks away. Louis can’t help but frown, trying to remember the boy’s name. He knows it starts with a Z.

Harry elbows him and any and all thoughts of the other boy vanish, his attention wholly on his boyfriend. Harry points to the teacher at the front of the room with a pout and makes the V sign at him.

Louis stifles a giggle as best he can, burying his face in his sleeve and hoping desperately that they don’t actually get in trouble this time. Louis has plans for Harry later that evening, after all.

---

While it’s true his plans only consisted of ordering a pizza, watching a film, and snogging a bit, they’re immediately put on hold the moment they walk into Harry’s room and he checks his email.

“Louis! Shit!”

Louis, who’d collapsed face first on Harry’s bed the moment they’d walked through the door, moves into a sitting position.

He looks to see Harry grinning so widely it looks like his cheeks are going to explode, and his heart stops being so frantically.

“Jesus, Haz, thought it was something bad.”

Harry just shakes his head, grabbing Louis by the hand and tugging him towards the screen.

“We got an audition time and date! It’s for three weeks from now!” Louis squints at the tiny text, silently relieved that it’s later in the morning (especially considering they’ll have to drive to Manchester).

Louis feels a smile grow on his own face, and he turns to tackle Harry against the bed. “Looks like we’re skipping school that day,” he says, burying his face in Harry’s neck as Harry’s arms wrap around his back. Harry presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m so happy.” Harry says quietly, and Louis’ own heart feels fit to burst.

“Me too. No one else I’d do this with.”

He can feel Harry grin. “Good thing you won’t have to.”

They fall asleep giggling and whispering and wrapped up in each other completely.

Now

Louis walks into a room full of people in their late teens and early twenties, all with similar looks of serious concentration on their faces. He stumbles towards one of the only open seats left, next to a pretty girl with wavy brown hair who looks weirdly familiar.

As soon as he’s seated, he does his best to push down the panic that’s bubbling under the surface, terrified that he’s making a terrible mistake. Almost as if she can sense the anxiety seeping out of his pores, the girl next to him holds out a pack of gum. “Here,’ she says, her voice kind and very posh. Louis takes a piece in bewilderment.

“Um, thanks?” He finally responds, looking up to see the girl smiling at him kindly.

“This your first audition?” She asks. Louis flushes, embarrassed that it’s so obvious that apparently even a total stranger can tell he’s practically shitting himself within thirty seconds of entering the room.

He just nods, popping the piece of gum in his mouth. The girl grins sympathetically.

“If it helps, it’s always terrifying, no matter how often you go.”

Louis stares at her for a long moment, grateful for her kindness but unsure of what to say in response, when she finally holds out a hand.

“Eleanor,” she introduces herself, voice quiet so as not to disturb the others in the room waiting for their turn to be called up.

“Louis,” he responds, and wait a minute, he knew she looked familiar. “Weren’t you on that teen show?”

Eleanor’s nodding before he’s even finished his sentence. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.” she says with a smirk, but there’s no cockiness behind it, just amusement. She lets out a breath, scrubbing a hand through her hair before continuing.

“Yeah, I got lucky with that role. But apparently my agent is worried about me being typecast, so he’s sending me out on a bunch of serious auditions so I can prove my worth. I’ve yet to find a script for something I’m particularly invested in, but this one seems like it might be perfect.” She pauses, grinning at him. “At the very least it’ll cover my rent for the next while.”

Louis laughs, his nerves practically forgotten at this point. “Yeah, I never really thought seriously about being an actor. I was, erm, actually more into music,” he mentally slams that door shut, pushing out any and all thoughts of Harry before pressing forward, “but me mum had this patient in hospital - she’s a nurse - who saw my picture when they were making small talk and thought I looked perfect for the drama he’s casting. He gave her his card and then she passed it along to me.” He shrugs, trying to keep his tone blase even though he knows that he’s experienced some extremely fortunate circumstances.

Eleanor, for her part, looks pleasantly surprised. “Wow, that’s like, kismet, or fate or whatever.” She pauses, giving him a thorough once over. “You know what? I can see it. You do look exactly how I pictured Jimmy.” She nods appraisingly. “So you still decided to come even though acting was never part of your plan?”

Louis shrugs. “It’s not that it wasn’t part of my plan - I’ve always loved drama, was the lead in the school play - but it always took a back seat. I guess I never really let myself seriously think about it. There were always other peo-,” he stumbles over the word, pushing past the slip, “things to consider.” He smiles, and it feels mostly genuine. “I guess I just realized I’m tired of sitting around waiting for my life to start. I need to do something.”

Eleanor smiles, and her whole face lights up. “I think that’s amazing. And I definitely think you’d be ace, got a total ‘leading man’ bone structure.”

Louis fights back a blush as she laughs at him.

He opens his mouth to retort when the door finally opens, revealing a frazzled man in hipster glasses with a clipboard.

A weird sort of hush falls over the already quiet room as everyone snaps to attention.

“We’re going to start calling you in alphabetically by last name. Auditions will be quick, and you’ll hear back from us within the next couple of weeks if you make the first cut.” The man surveys the room for a long moment before glancing down at the list in front of him.

“For the role of Esther, we’re starting with a, erm, Eleanor Calder? Follow me and close the door firmly behind you.” The man turns and starts walking away as Eleanor stands up, her knees shaking just subtly enough that Louis thinks he’s the only one who notices.

“Good luck, yeah?” He says, putting as much encouragement into it as he can. She sends him back a shaky but entirely genuine smile.

“You too. You’re too pretty not to make the callbacks.” She throws him an exaggerated wink before scurrying away, and Louis can’t help but laugh.

Maybe there’s hope after all.

Then

Louis’ not sure what exactly has happened over the past month inside his boyfriend’s head, but there’s definitely something … off … with Harry. Maybe it’s nerves about their upcoming audition, or maybe it’s just his way of coping with pressure, but he’s become a lot more quiet and closed off and Louis’ not sure what to do about it.

For starters, he has no idea if it’s anything he can fix. Things between them had been great; there’d been the occasional bickering session or bad mood, sure, but there’s not a single moment Louis can pinpoint and confidently think there, that’s when everything started going to shit.

To make matter worse, Harry refuses to talk about it, acting like everything’s fine even though it so obviously isn’t. While they’ve never been obnoxious with PDA at school, Harry won’t even hold his hand anymore in public. He’d given Louis some bullshit excuse about feeling sick and not wanting to share germs, but that had been almost three weeks ago and he still won’t touch him where other people can see.

Now it’s the day before the audition, and Louis’ sitting alone in class because Harry hadn’t even bothered to show up, let alone let Louis know he’d be skipping. Louis spends most of the period with his head on his desk, avoiding the stares he knows he’s getting from the rest of the class. He and Harry are inseparable, always have been. People probably think they’ve broken up or something horrible like that.

When the bell finally rings, signalling the end of the day, Louis slowly drags his head up, gathering his untouched school supplies and shoving them back in his bag. He can feel someone’s eyes on him and looks up abruptly to see the same dark haired, quiet boy staring at him as before.

Louis snaps at him before he can think it through. “What?”

The boy averts his eyes, looking embarrassed, and Louis instantly feels bad. Before he can say anything else, though, the boy walks away, his eyes still on the ground. Louis feels awful. He makes a mental note to find the boy and apologize next time he sees him.

Louis’ just made it inside his house after a depressing walk home alone when his mobile buzzes in his pocket. It’s a text from Harry.

Can you come over? Need to talk.

No explanation, no heart emojis. Nothing. Louis’ heart starts hammering in his chest.

Yeah sure be right over he responds with shaky fingers, trying to get his breathing under control. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe Harry’s just nervous about the audition tomorrow.

Fuck. The audition. Maybe he wants to back out. Louis would be disappointed, sure, but he’d never make Harry go through with it if he really didn’t want to. Feeling slightly better about the situation now that he thinks he at least has some idea why Harry’s been acting weird lately, Louis leaves a note for his mum on the counter saying he’s out at Harry’s and slips back out the door.

Everything will be fine, he just needs to talk to Harry. They’ll sort this out. They always do. They love each other, after all.

And love conquers all. Louis’ sure of it.

---

Harry’s house is eerily quiet when Louis arrives, letting himself in with the spare key like he always does. He sets it on the table in the front hall, toeing his shoes off before trudging up the stairs towards Harry’s room, feeling uncomfortably like he’s done something wrong even though he can’t possibly think of what.

Louis takes a deep breath and mentally tells himself to calm down before pushing the door open and stepping into Harry’s room. At first he thinks there must have been some sort of mix-up as Harry doesn’t actually seem to be there. Maybe Harry meant for him to come over later, or maybe he just ducked out to get something.

Louis’ eyes scan the room, confused, until he finally spots Harry’s hunched figure on the floor next to the window, his head down as he leans back against the wall. If Louis had been nervous before, he’s utterly terrified now. He pushes down the panic, desperate to find out what’s wrong and fix it. Harry’s not okay. That much is obvious.

Louis walks over to Harry as softly as he can, trying not to feel hurt by the way Harry doesn’t even lift his gaze off the floor or bother acknowledging him.

Louis wants to throw up, if he’s being honest, and it’s only the uncertainty, the quiet desperation in Harry’s body language that keeps him from bolting from the room.

“Haz?” he asks quietly. Harry finally looks up to meet his gaze then, and his eyes are watery. He looks … lost. Louis wants to pull him into his arms and never let him go.

So he shoves his doubts aside and does just that, relieved when Harry doesn’t stiffen at his touch, but rather melts against him. Louis can hear him sniffling and trying to hide it, and it breaks his heart.

“Harry, darling, what’s wrong?” He asks gently, running a hand through Harry’s soft curls. Harry doesn’t say anything, just burrows further into Louis’ side.

Louis doesn’t push it. He keeps stroking his hands through Harry’s hair, giving him all the time he needs.

“I don’t think I can do this, Lou.” he says finally. Louis had a feeling that’s what this was going to be about, so he’s got answer ready.

“It’s okay, H. I know it’s scary but you’re so bloody talented. It’s normal to be nervous.”

Harry looks at him in surprise, and there’s something hiding behind his gaze, something distant, that makes Louis’ stomach lurch.

“I wasn’t talking about the audition,” he says quietly, and Louis can actually feel the moment his heart shatters.

“What?” he whispers, unable to comprehend anything, not even sure he’s understanding Harry properly.

“I don’t think we can be together anymore. It doesn’t … I don’t want it. Not the way it’s going to be.”

“I don’t …” Even his voice sounds broken. “I don’t understand.”

Harry can’t even meet his eyes. He just keeps staring down, as if he isn’t in the middle of destroying Louis’ life. “If we get through tomorrow. If we make it onto this show. Things are going to change.”

Louis gives him a confused look. “No shit, Harry, that’s kind of the point.”

“We’re not going to last, Louis. It’ll ruin us.” Harry says quietly. Seriously. Like he’s been thinking about this for a very long time. Which, shit, Louis supposes he has. Hence the weirdness over the past few weeks.

“What are you saying, Harry?” Louis finally asks, and his voice sounds like ice. It must take even Harry by surprise, as his voice sounds less certain and more apprehensive now than it had before.

“If we want a chance at this. At actually winning and living our dreams. It’s not going to be as a couple.”

And Louis just … he doesn’t understand. He feels like he’s drowning.

“Why are you saying this?”

“Look at the music business, Louis! Look at the people who make it! How many of them are like us? How many people are going to take a chance on the quaint little gay couple from Cheshire?”

Harry pauses and Louis can’t believe that Harry, his Harry, is saying these horrible things. And worse, that he believes them.

“What the fuck,” Louis starts, but Harry cuts him off, his eyes wide and full of fire.

“This is our chance, Louis. Our chance to finally make our dreams come true and play in a band. But that’s just not going to happen if we audition as an out gay couple, okay? It’s not.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Louis demands, his own eyes close to filling with tears. “You think I can just pretend I don’t love you? That you don’t mean anything to me?”

Harry stares at him, and there’s none of the warmth there that Louis’ used to. His eyes are frighteningly empty.

“People like us don’t get to be rock stars. Not unless we lie. Don’t you get it? We have to make them think that we’re just like them. The only way we’ll ever stand a chance of even making the first round is if we audition as friends.”

Louis wants to cry. “You’re trying to shove me back into the closet, even after you saw what it did to me the last time?”

Harry doesn’t react to Louis’ stunned question. “It wouldn’t be permanent.” He finally says. “It’s temporary. Just temporary. Just until we’ve established ourselves.”

Louis can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Harry finally looks at Louis, pleading. “They’ll never even give us a chance if we don’t. We’re not … They need to be able to sell us to an audience. That’s half of whether or not they choose you."

“I thought it was about talent,” Louis spits, and Harry has the audacity to laugh.

“Don’t be naive, Louis. They need to believe that we’re straight enough to make millions of girls around the world buy our album.”

“You’re acting like we’re just some product.”

Harry huffs. “That’s exactly what we are to them. And that’s the only thing that’s going to take us through to the next round. And acting like the entertainment business - like the world, really - works any differently is just wilful blindness.”

Louis’ never been so thoroughly disappointed by Harry before, but he guesses there’s a first time for everything.

“You’re that desperate to be famous that you’re willing to just throw this - us - away like it means nothing?”

Harry looks a bit like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t look like he’s changing his mind. “It’s only temporary, Louis. I just want to give us a chance.”

Louis reaches inside himself and does his best to assemble the broken hits of his insides.

“Call me when you’ve come to your senses.” Louis says, his own voice filled with ice.

Harry sucks in a quiet gasp of surprise, like he genuinely thought Louis would agree to being shoved back in the closet by his own boyfriend for the sake of a reality show audition.

Louis stands up and starts walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, and Louis does his best not to break down right there on the spot.

“I’m going home.” He says, his voice quiet. He can’t bear to be around this version of Harry. This cold, cynical person who’s willing to sacrifice the best thing in his life just for the shot at fame.

“Louis,” he starts, but Louis cuts him off.

“I’m not just some dirty little secret you can keep hidden. I thought you loved me,” he chokes out. “I really did.”

Harry lets out a quiet sob, and Louis just can’t stand to hear it anymore. He rushes down the stairs and back outside before his resolve crumbles enough to turn back around.

---

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s got 15 missed calls on his phone, he’s slept through his alarm, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to be hungover for at least the rest of the week.

He also finds out that Harry’s gone ahead and auditioned without him.

Louis supposes the whole ‘pretending to be straight’ thing really must have been the key to success. Harry makes it through to the next round.

Louis doesn’t leave his room for three days.

Now

It’s been just under a week since Louis’ audition and he’s decidedly not freaking out about the fact that they haven’t called him back yet.

Except that’s a blatant lie. He’s completely freaking out.

They’d told him he’d know within 7 days if he’d gotten a callback, but now Louis’ not so sure if they meant 7 business days or 7 literal days. He’s tried to keep himself as busy as possible, going to his mum’s and offering to watch the twins so she can go out and have some time to herself.

He’s also managed to marathon the entire first two seasons of Broadchurch (which, hey, go him) but now he’s running out of distractions.

Ironically, it’s not until the seventh day (not that Louis’ obsessively keeping count or anything) that Louis’ finally accepted that he probably would have heard by now when his phone vibrates across the room.

He leaps over to his desk, managing to pick it up on the third ring.

The size of the smile that breaks across his face probably looks ridiculous, but he can’t be arsed to care.

They want him to come in for a second audition.

---

When Louis arrives for his second audition, the atmosphere is surprisingly far more relaxed than it had been the first time. For starters, there’s less people (only two other boys and three girls), and they’re talking pretty freely amongst themselves. Louis’ not sure how much of it is genuine and how much is to suss out the competition (and simultaneously make themselves look good to the producers), but either way, it’s a nice change.

He spots Eleanor almost immediately and can’t help but grin. As soon as she sees him, a similar smile appears on her face and she gestures for him to sit next to her.

“Well, fancy seeing you here mister I’m-not-actually-an-actor.” She teases, her eyes sparkling.

Louis shakes his head, doing his best not to blush. “I only found out yesterday. I’ve been a nervous wreck all week.”

Eleanor nods. “Me too. Yesterday morning. Thought my agent was going to cry, he was so happy.”

Before Louis can say anything else, the door swings open and the same man as their last auditions appears. This time he seems significantly more relaxed, no longer clutching on to his clipboard like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Welcome everyone, and congratulations on making the top three for the roles of Jimmy and Esther. We’re going to pair you up and give you some time to run your lines before auditioning for the production team inside.”

Eleanor and Louis look at each other immediately, and Louis want to laugh at how reminiscent it is of being back in school and trying to choose a partner for a project.

“Stay calm, stay focused, and remember that you six were chosen for a reason. We obviously see something in you.” The man continues, and Louis’ feels the nerves in his stomach relax a little bit.

Fate is clearly on his side, as he immediately gets paired with Eleanor, and the two exchange a cheeky high five before drifting off to find a private spot to practice.

Louis is thrilled to discover that not only do he and Eleanor get on like a house on fire, but they also play off each other brilliantly. Eleanor seems to notice too, if the small smile she keeps trying to suppress is anything to go by.

By the time they’ve performed their scene for the producers, Louis feels more confident about his audition than he has about nearly anything else in his life.

He and Eleanor exchange phone numbers, determined to keep in touch even if one or neither of them gets the part. Eleanor dashes off shortly after to call her boyfriend and let him know how the audition went, and Louis bites back a frown, knowing exactly who he would’ve called 9 months ago.

As it stands now, he figures he can just tell his mum all about it when she gets home from work.

Then

He’s not sure what makes him do it. Maybe it’s the uncertainty. They haven’t talked in days - a record for him and Harry - and he has no idea what’s happening. He knows Harry auditioned without him, and he knows he made the first cut. Beyond that, he’s clueless.

He’s not even sure how he feels. Or if he feels, really. The news of Harry’s audition sobered him up very quickly, and ever since then he’s been kind of numb, hiding out in his bedroom, ignoring his phone, doing his best not to breakdown.

He’s only let himself cry once. The morning he’d woken up and realized it wasn’t actually a horrible dream. Harry really had broken up with him and gone off to audition for Battle of the Bands by himself.

Louis knows he should hate Harry probably. If he were more objective, he probably would. But as it is, he’s just really confused. Exhausted, sad, and utterly confused. He’d thought things had been good between them. Damn near perfect, really. They were going to live their dream together .

But then everything had fallen apart.

It’s through sheer power of will that Louis manages to drag himself up the last few steps to stand outside Harry’s front door. He has no idea what to say to him. His mind is just eerily blank, like it’s wiped itself clean as a defense mechanism against all the pain that he knows is threatening to spill out from inside him.

His hand hovers above the doorbell before he finally gives in and presses it down, his hands immediately going to his head to fix the beanie he’d thrown on to cover his unshowered hair. Let it never be said that Louis Tomlinson doesn’t have at least a little bit of pride.

His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest as he waits for Harry to open the door. He sees a head of dark wavy brown hair approaching through the stained glass, and he braces himself for whatever version of Harry he’ll see on the other side.

His stomach drops when Harry’s mum answers instead.

The moment she realizes who it is, her face contorts in what Louis thinks is supposed to be a comforting expression but instead just makes his heart pound even harder.

He’s seen that face before. Remembers it well from the times when she’d let him stay the night after Louis’ parents had announced they were divorcing. This is her sympathy face.

Louis doesn’t want her sympathy. He wants Harry.

“Is he here?” he finally manages to ask, and his voice sounds like he’s swallowed a fistful of gravel. He supposes that’s what happens when you go for three days without speaking.

Anne’s expression shifts again, and that’s when Louis knows there’s something very wrong.

“He’s not here, darling. He’s in London.”

He … what?”

“What?” Louis repeats out loud, not caring that he’s apparently abandoned his manners completely. Anne doesn’t seem to care either, stepping forward to pull him inside the house, and then into a hug the second they’re off the porch.

“He left two days ago. Only stayed long enough to pack a bag.”

And Louis can feel the tears gathering behind his eyes, can feel the pressure in his throat start to build, but he won’t cry, not in Harry’s house, not in front of his mother.

“Why?” Louis finally manages to ask once he’s confident his voice won’t waver. Anne squeezes him tighter, letting him hide his face where she can’t see it, knowing him as well as his own mum after all these years.

“He didn’t think you’d want to see him,” she whispers, and that’s when Louis finally breaks.

He can hear Anne vaguely explaining that he had to be in London as soon as possible, that Manchester was the last city for auditions and they were moving full steam ahead now back in studio, but Louis doesn’t hear a word, can’t hear or feel or see anything at all.

The only thought he can form is he left me.

Anne seems to realize that Louis’ only there physically, and after giving him a worried once over, calls Jay to come pick him up.

He hardly registers his mum coming to get him, doesn’t actually snap out of whatever agonizing trance he’s in until his mum is threatening to take him to the hospital.

Whatever shred of stability Louis had been clinging onto splinters and he bursts into tears, sobbing in his mother’s arms.

Now

This time, Louis’ expecting it when he gets the call. He accepts the part immediately of course, thrilled to find out that Eleanor got her part too. Maybe it’s confidence or maybe it’s fate, but either way he feels an overwhelming sense of contentedness he hasn’t experienced in a while. He knows they’d been incredible, had seen the stars in the eyes of the casting director and the producers.

Louis calls Eleanor as soon as he’s hung up with the producer, but he’s sent straight to voicemail. He smiles, imagining her freaking out and calling her boyfriend, and decides to text her his congratulations instead.

He decides to go celebrate with a drink, telling his friend Stan to meet him at their usual spot as soon as he gets off work. Louis tries not to drink excessively (he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop associating getting wasted with Harry leaving, and he doesn’t really feel like reliving that particular experience) but this is a moment that deserves celebrating.

He leaves his mum a message at work too, knowing she’s working the late shift at the hospital tonight and won’t get back to him until much later, but just the act of telling her voicemail that he’s done it, he’s finally achieving one of his dreams, is enough to put a smile on his face.

Louis’ good mood lasts until he’s made it over to the bus stop and he’s forced to wait next to a giant ad with Harry Styles’ fucking face on it.

Well, not just Harry Styles. Harry Styles and the rest of his band Silver Dollar aka the winners of the first ever season of Battle of the Bands .

Louis turns his head, refusing to meet Harry’s glossy green eyes, two dimensional as they might be.

He’s turning a new leaf, Louis is, finally letting himself be happy.

He refuses to let Harry ruin the only good thing that’s happened to him in almost a year.

Part Two

Now

It’s the first time Harry’s been in Leeds in two years. He honestly wishes he could just sleep through the show tonight, but seeing as that’s not an option, he settles for lying on the bed in his hotel room and staring blankly at the ceiling. He thinks idly about the mini-fridge across the room, wondering if he can get away with throwing back a mini-bottle of jack daniels without anyone else noticing.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud banging against his door, followed shortly by his bandmate Niall Horan barging into the room, singing to himself. He pauses when he spots Harry lying on the bed, a huge grin lighting up his face.

“Haz! Was hopin’ you’d be here.” He plonks himself down next to Harry, the bed bouncing with the force of his movement. Harry doesn’t have it in him to tell him off.

He chooses to groan instead, rolling over so his face is buried in his pillow. He gets maybe five seconds of peace before he can feel Niall’s pasty Irish hands prodding at his shoulders, trying to get him to flip back over.

Harry does, grudgingly, only to be met with pale blue eyes full of concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and Harry considers lying to him, he really does, but what’s the point? Niall will only keep poking at him until he comes clean.

Harry shrugs. “I’m not in a good place right now, really.” He knows he should elaborate, that getting it off his chest is certainly healthier than keeping it all pent up inside, but it still hurts. Talking about Louis, hell, even thinking about Louis makes him feel like he’s hacking out his own insides with a chainsaw.

Niall looks confused for a long moment before it obviously clicks. “Ohhhhh, you mean …?” he trails off, not wanting to upset Harry by saying his name. Harry laughs bitterly.

“He’s not Voldemort, Niall.”

Niall looks down at his hands. “It’s about Louis, then?” Harry just nods.

“Last time you were here was with him?”

Harry’s a little freaked out by how quickly Niall gets it, but at least it means he doesn’t have to be the one to say it.

“He took me to a festival. We spent the whole weekend camping and listening to music and making out in our tent.”

He can see it all in his head as he talks, can so clearly picture Louis’ eyes crinkling when Harry pulled out the matching wellies he’d brought for the both of them.

Harry can taste the bile in the back of his throat.

Before he can wade too deeply into self-hatred, he feels Niall’s hand on his shoulder and is pulled into a surprise hug.

“I’m sorry, mate. That’s shit.” Harry doesn’t have anything to say back. It is shit.

“You gonna be okay for the show tonight?” he asks, his tone filled with genuine concern.

Harry forces himself to smile, though it feels brittle. “Gonna have to be, aren’t I?”

Then

The last ten hours or so have been an absolute blur, but now Harry’s here, standing in front of a panel of judges in Manchester as they congratulate him and tell him he’s made it to the next round.

He feels simultaneously thrilled and nauseous. He has just enough time to thank them and smile for the camera before he’s being escorted off stage so the next auditionee can come on, and he makes sure to carefully buckle his guitar back into its case before he does anything else.

It’s not until he gets a moment alone in the bathroom that he finally has a chance to breathe, and everything that’s happened in the past 24 hours comes crashing down on him.

He’s made it through the first cut, he’s one step closer to his dream, and he’s alone. His fingers itch to pick up his phone and call Louis so they can celebrate together, but he knows he’s destroyed any chance of that happening. Hard as he tries, he can feel the sadness threatening to overcome the excitement and he does his best to shove it back down deep.

He can cry later.

He quickly washes up and puts some water on his face before going back into the lobby, shooting his mum off a quick ‘I made it’ text instead. He’s about to call for a taxi when he feels a hand on his elbow and he turns to see a blonde boy with a massive grin plastered across his face.

“Harry, right? I auditioned right after you.” He sticks a hand out and Harry takes it eagerly, glad to know at least one other person here.

“Hi, nice to meet you -” he trails off, realizing the boy didn’t actually introduce himself.

“Niall,” he responds,still smiling, and Harry feels like the pressure in his chest is lessening just a bit.

“So I’m guessing you made the first cut too?” Harry asks, really hoping he’s right because, yeah, that would be awkward. Lucky for him, Niall nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I had a feeling anything Journey would be a big hit. Rolling Stones , though, definitely not a bad choice either,” he muses, referring to Harry’s decision to play a slowed down acoustic version of Sympathy for the Devil .

Harry bites his lip. The song had been Louis’ idea, originally. He was going to accompany Harry on the piano. Harry feels a sharp pang and hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

“So what’re you up to tonight?” Niall asks, evidently not noticing (or politely ignoring) Harry’s brief moment of weirdness. Harry shrugs.

“Thought I’d go back home. My mum’ll want to take me for dinner to celebrate.”

Niall looks appalled. “Harry, no. That’s, like, the least rockstar thing you could do!”

Harry frowns, tugging at a loose thread on his sleeve. “I don’t have a room booked in Manchester, though.”

Niall beams, slapping a hand on Harry’s back. “No problem, mate. You can just crash with me. I don’t know the city at all, was hoping you could show me some of the better pubs and clubs.”

Harry nods slowly, mulling it over. On the one hand, he knows he should at least try to talk to Louis. He must’ve found out that Harry auditioned without him by now and he’s probably heartbroken. And, well, angry. The wrath of Louis is not something Harry would wish upon his worst enemy.

And that sort of makes his decision for him. He’s going to enjoy the fact that he’s following his dream, and he’s going to give Louis some time to calm down and process what happened before they talk. And they will talk. Harry knows they have to, that they can never hope to be okay again if they don’t. But, he’ll admit it, he’s afraid.

“Okay,” he finally says, feeling a small smile grow on his own face in response to Niall’s enthusiasm.

---

Harry wakes up with his face buried in a carpet that smells faintly of pina colada mix and garlic bread. His head pounding, he rolls over to get his bearings and groans as the light from the window hits him squarely in the eye.

“Fuckin’ hell, what time is it?” Niall grumbles from his place sprawled across the bed.

Harry looks at the alarm clock across the room and panics. It’s already almost 11:30. He’d meant to be up and on the road by 9:30 at the latest.

He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and mentally pats himself on the back for remembering to charge it before they went out the night before. He sees his mum’s name on the screen and braces himself.

“‘Lo?”

“Harry, where are you? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning!” Anne sounds more panicked than he’d expected considering he’d told her his plans last night.

“Still in Manchester. Just woke up.”

Anne is silent on the line before she responds. “Right.”

“I’ll be home soon,” he promises. The line goes dead. Harry buries his head in hands.

“You okay?” Niall asks, his voice gritty but full of genuine concern. Harry shrugs.

“She’s pissed.” He scrubs a rough hand through his curls, forcing himself to get off the floor and start packing up the odds and ends he’d brought with him.

“Sucks.” Niall says sympathetically before collapsing back against the bed.

Harry makes it over to the door, his bag slung over one shoulder, when Niall clears his throat. “Text me when you’re planning on heading down to London, yeah? We can meet up.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, sounds good. Probably won’t be for a couple of days, though. I have to try to smooth some stuff over at home.”

“Yeah, whenever. Good luck and all that.”

Harry sighs. “Thanks. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

---

Harry pulls into his driveway an hour and a half later, bone tired and already mentally coming up with excuses. He knows his mum is going to want to talk about, well, everything , and he just … he really doesn’t want to.

Based on the look on her face when he finally steps through the front door, he doesn’t think he’s going to have much of a choice.

“Mum,” he greets, keeping his tone even. She doesn’t say anything, so he keeps on talking to fill the silence. “I have to be in London in a week, so I figured I’d start packing and getting all my stuff in order now so I don’t have to worry about it last minute.”

“Oh you figured, did you?” Anne responds, her tone sharp. Harry hasn’t had that voice used on him since the time he accidentally rode his bike through the neighbour’s newly completed fence.

“Um, yeah. And, like, they’ve got accommodations covered and I already made a friend so, erm, I’m not too worried.”

Anne’s mouth draws into a thin straight line at that and Harry wants to go hide in his room.

“Jay called me this morning.”

Harry’s whole body goes cold as Anne continues. “Funniest thing, you see, she said Louis hasn’t left his room in days and she has no idea what’s wrong, says he won’t talk to anyone. You can imagine her surprise when I told her you’d gone off to Manchester without him.”

Harry swallows, suddenly desperate to be anywhere else.

“She’s the one that told me she thinks you two broke up. Kept hearing Louis crying when he thought everyone was asleep. I told her that couldn’t possibly true. You’d never do something like that for the sake of a reality show audition.”

Harry can’t even make eye contact at this point, his cheeks and the back of his neck on fire.

In the end, he doesn’t even need to say anything. Anne can see the guilt painted across his face clear as anything.

“You didn’t,” she whispers, stunned.

“You don’t understand, mum, it wasn’t - “ he starts to say, but the phone rings, cutting him off.

Anne’s face pales when she sees the name on the caller ID. “That’s Jay. I have to answer.”

She walks over to answer the phone in the other room. Harry stands alone in the front hall, his mouth dry.

The feelings of guilt and shame and sadness he’d managed to shove away come back with a vengeance, and he can’t stop seeing the look on Louis’ face when he’d left.

He’d managed to convince himself that Louis would understand, that he’d want it too - that he’d be willing to hide the true nature of their relationship for a shot at making their dreams comes true - but Harry had been fooling himself.

He fucked up.

He fucked up so badly .

He’s got his chance at stardom now, yeah, but he also lost the boy he’s in love with.

Suddenly everything hurts and Harry just can’t be there any more.

He needs to leave. 

He pulls out his phone and dials the most recent number entered. Niall picks up on the second ring.

“Harry?”

Harry takes a deep breath. “How do you feel about meeting me in London a bit earlier than we’d talked about?”

Niall lets out a surprised laugh. “Tell me where and when.”

Harry pushes down the guilt he can feel bubbling in his stomach. “Tonight. I can be there in a few hours.”

Niall is quiet on the other end. “Yeah, mate. I can do that.” Harry can hear the questions in Niall’s voice, but he’s not ready to answer them. Not yet.

“Cool, I’ll text you when I get there.”

Harry goes upstairs as quietly as he can and throws all the things he’ll need for the next couple of weeks in a bag. He pointedly doesn’t look at the picture of him and Louis pinned to the wall next to his bed.

He leaves a note for his mum on the table saying he’ll call her later.

And then he’s gone.

Now

Harry’s off.

He’s tried his best to hide it but based on the looks the boys keep exchanging when they think he can’t see them, he knows he must not be doing a very good job. They’re supposed to be rehearsing, but it’s obvious that things just aren’t clicking. Liam eventually approaches him with a kind smile and a bottle of water in hand.

“You sure you’re feeling okay? There’s no shame in needing to take a break.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s fine. Just a headache.”

Liam, bless him, doesn’t push any further. Zayn, on the other hand, gives Harry a look . Harry looks down rather quickly, the back of his neck heating up. He knows Zayn know he’s lying. Zayn’s eerily perceptive, which is a great trait to have in a bandmate, but not so much when it’s aimed directly at him.

Harry’s not sure how well Zayn remembers him from school, if at all. He wonders if Zayn remembers Louis. If he’s ever wondered what happened to them and why Harry’s here alone.

He wonders what Zayn must think of him. He doesn’t dare to ask.

Then

“Harry, they’re ready for you,” Harry looks up from his phone to see one of the producer’s assistants gesturing for him. He exits out of the game of solitaire he was playing and follows her through the studio and into a boardroom with some of the show’s producers already sitting around the table.

He swallows, forcing his nerves down before taking a seat directly across from them.

“So Harry,” says a man with teeth that are slightly too white and a suit that probably costs more than Harry’s yearly rent. “How are you enjoying your experience on the show so far?”

Harry smiles, hoping it looks natural. “Erm, it’s great, yeah. I love being around so many other musicians.”

The man nods and the woman beside him speaks next.

“How familiar are you with PR relationships, Harry?”

He blinks, genuinely not expecting her question. “What, like Taylor Swift, that sort of thing? As much as the next person, I’d say.”

The woman smiles, satisfied. “Then I’m sure you understand how vital they are to being successful, especially when you’re just starting out in the industry.”

Harry feels something heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. He has a very good guess of where this conversation is going and he’s filled with dread.

“We want to give the audience the illusion that you and Cara have something going on behind the scenes.”

And there it is. Cara was one of the other contestants on the show - charismatic, beautiful, great voice. He can see why they’d choose her. The two of them together would be a heteronormative wet dream for the audience.

The producers can clearly see his hesitation.

“Look, Harry, we’re not actually asking you to date her. We just want to give the audience the impression that you are. Viewers love a good love story against the odds, especially when the people involved are young and attractive. They’ll eat it up. Your popularity will skyrocket. Trust us, they’ll never vote you off the show.”

Harry swallows. When they put it like that, he can kind of see the appeal. And it’s not like he’d actually have to date Cara. Although …

“Would I have to kiss her?”

The woman laughs, evidently surprised. “Would it be a problem if you did?” She asks, and there’s a bit of steel behind her voice that hadn’t been there before.

Harry shakes his head. The woman smiles. “To answer your question, no, that’s not in the cards at the moment. Although, as you must understand, plans do change.”

Harry nods, not trusting his voice. The woman slides some papers across the desk.

“Give these a quick lookover and sign the bottom. We’ll figure out the details of your appearances together later.”

His eyes skim over the document but he’s not really taking anything in. Fuck it, he decides. As uncomfortable as this makes him, he knows it’s for his future. Besides, it’s not like he really has a choice. If he doesn’t agree, he’ll probably wind up being sent home the next week.

Harry takes the pen. His hand only shakes a little when he signs his freedom away.

All of the producers beam at him as he leaves the room. Harry can practically see the pound signs in their eyes.

He makes it back to the hotel room on autopilot, tripping over a pair of shoes Niall’s left by the door on his way over the threshold. Weirdly enough, that’s the thing that pushes him over the edge.

He collapses on the bed, feeling his eyes well up for the first time since he left home. The tears start flowing freely after that, and Harry doesn’t even bother trying to fight them. Everything he’d been dreaming of and looking forward to for months is here, handed to him on a silver platter, and he’s not sure he wants any of it anymore.

He misses his bed. The sheets on this one are too stiff, like they’ve been washed one too many times.

He misses his mum. He misses his boyfriend. Except, he doesn’t actually have one of those anymore, does he?

The realization that he very well may never speak to or even see Louis again causes a new wave of tears to come pouring out. And of course, it’s at this moment that Niall walks in.

He’s (predictably) in the middle of eating a slice of pizza, but he frantically puts it down on the side table before rushing over to Harry’s side.

“Jesus, Harry, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Harry chokes back his tears enough to blurt out some version of an answer. “They want me to date Cara.”

Niall looks stunned. “What?”

“For ratings. They think it’ll be good for the show.”

Niall gives him a long look. “And you don’t want to.”

Harry sobs, shaking his head.

“So say no, then.”

“I already signed the papers,” Harry whispers. Niall’s face falls.

“Look, Harry, I don’t want this to sound harsh, but being told you have to pretend to be in a relationship with a hot girl on TV should not be pushing you on the verge of a mental break down.”

Harry knows he could lie, but he also knows he’ll never survive the rest of the show if there’s nobody on his side, no one who knows the truth about him.

“I’m gay,” he finally admits.

Niall is silent. When Harry can finally summon the courage to look at him, he can see Niall looks thoughtful rather than repulsed.

“Do you have a boyfriend back home?”

Harry shakes his head, his eyes still wet. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Because of the show?” Niall asks.

Harry sighs. “No. Because of me. I broke things off before I auditioned, though they’d never let us through if they knew we were together.”

Niall looks surprised. “He was going to audition too?”

Harry nods. “We were going to audition together. We’d been looking forward to it for months. Then I got cold feet, broke his heart, and went off to Manchester on my own.” Harry looks down at his hands, his whole body feeling cold. “I haven’t talked to him since.”

Niall, mercifully, doesn’t tell Harry what a horrible person he is and instead pulls him into a one armed hug.

“I’m not gonna pretend that your situation doesn’t suck, but it’ll be okay. I promise you, things’ll get better."

Harry appreciates Niall’s positivity, he really does, but he can’t bring himself to agree.

“You should just come out,” Niall says suddenly and Harry feels his heart stutter in his chest.

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can! Just tell the producers you’ve changed your mind. You like dick and you want the world to know it.”

Harry laughs bitterly. “It doesn’t really work like that. Even if I wanted to come out publicly, which I don’t - not right now, anyway - I’ve already signed a contract for the Cara stunt.” He bites his lip. “And even if I hadn’t, there’s no way they’d let me come out. I think one of them already suspects that I’m not straight, and the look in her eyes, Niall…” He pauses. “I don’t want to ruin everything. And not just for me, for all of us.”

Niall looks like he wants to say something, but Harry cuts him off. “I know you don’t agree, and that’s fine, but can you just support my decision? I don’t think I can handle anymore today.”

Niall closes his mouth and nods. “Yeah mate. I can do that.”

Now

Harry’s voice is a little grittier than usual during their performance, but based on the audience’s enthusiastic reaction, he’s pretty sure no one cared. Or even noticed. He’s proud of himself for making it through the performance without retching on stage, and the second the stage lights fade his only thought is dragging his sorry arse back to his hotel room and taking a long, well-deserved nap.

Harry can already feel the soft downy feathers of the hotel bedding when the stage manager clamps a hand around his arm immediately after the performance and tells him he he’s not off the clock just yet.

“There’s a girl waiting for you backstage. She’s VIP, her dad owns a pretty considerable share in a major production company in America. He paid a lot of money for her to be here. A lot . Don’t fuck it up.”

Harry just sort of gapes. “I didn’t know there’d be a meet and greet. I’m not …” He gestures to his disheveled state and hopes the dark bags under his eyes complete the picture clearly enough.

The stage manager shrugs. “Sorry kid. Not my call.” He pushes Harry in the right direction, pitching his voice suggestively. “Seriously, do not fuck this up for us. Play nice. Do whatever she wants to do. We cannot risk pissing her daddy off.”

Harry feels his stomach drop. “You want me to sleep with her.”

The stage manager raises an eyebrow. “All I’m saying is, don’t shoot her down if she makes a move. We could really use a contact to help Silver Dollar break the States.”

Harry nods without really meaning to. He feels like he’s marching towards a firing squad of his own making.

You knew this might happen when you auditioned. You knew this would be part of the deal. You made your bed.

The voice inside of his head sounds suspiciously like Louis’. He wonders not for the first time if Louis is as disappointed in him as Harry is of himself. He can only imagine the perception he must have of him based on his womanizing public image.

In the end, it’s probably a good thing Harry hasn’t spoken to him in over a year.The thought of Louis seeing him like this is enough to make him feel sick all over again.

He pushes back the self-loathing and the self-pity on plasters on a smile, mustering up as much charisma as he can.

Then

To Harry’s immense joy, he not only makes the next round of cuts but also gets put into a band with Niall, Zayn, and Liam. While he hasn’t spent much time with Liam and Zayn (though he does faintly remember Zayn from school), he and Niall have grown into a surprisingly close friendship in the few weeks since they’d first auditioned.

They decide to celebrate by buying a bottle of absurdly expensive champagne (absurdly expensive for their budget, anyhow; Harry imagines that a bottle that costs 80 pounds isn’t all that decadent by some people’s standards) and drinking it right out of the bottle while simultaneously ordering as much junk food as they want off the room service menu.

By the time they’ve polished off half of the bottle, Niall’s accent’s gotten thicker, Liam’s no longer wearing socks, and Harry finally feels drunk enough to share his biggest secret with the other boys.

“I’m gay,” he blurts out after Zayn has just wrapped up the story of his scariest moment prior to auditioning for Battle of the Bands (something about the time he almost skateboarded into an electric fence.)

The room goes silent and Zayn and Liam both gape at him. Niall (who already knew) puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and stares at the other boys as if daring them to say something negative.

Liam fish mouths for a second longer before throwing himself at Harry in an entirely unexpected and entirely sweet drunken hug.

“I think you’re great Harry Styles, gay or not.” He mutters into his hair. Harry can’t help the broad smile that blossoms on his face.

Zayn softly clears his throat and Harry looks up to see him giving him another one of those knowing looks. Right. He’s seen him and Louis together. He’s clearly put two and two together.

Niall throws himself into the hug after a second, closely followed by Zayn.

Harry knows he should probably elaborate and tell them everything. But he knows their pitying looks would just make him sad all over again. And he feels happy, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. Wanting to savour that for just a while longer doesn’t make him a bad person, does it?

Fuck it. He’s going to soak up every bit of their love and acceptance and deal with everything else later. He knows he’ll have to suck it up and talk about Louis at some point (especially because he’s positive Zayn must have some questions) but that time is not now.

He squirms underneath the pile of limbs and reaches for the bottle of champagne.

Now

Her name is Olivia or Amanda or some other typically feminine name ending in an A, and she seems nice enough (though Harry can’t deny the obvious air of entitlements that sticks to her skin. He’s sure she’s never heard the word ‘no’ in her life).

He does his best to turn on the charm, making sure his dimples pop at the right times, but his heart really isn’t in it. He thinks he might actually be able to get through this encounter relatively unscathed until she reaches out a hand and starts trailing it up his arm suggestively.

“What do you say we move this upstairs,” she suggests coyly, stopping to trace her fingers over his bicep. Harry bites back the no that instantly springs to his lips.

He wants to turn her down, but he doesn’t know how to do it without pissing her off (and vicariously, costing them her dad’s possible financial interest). He comes up with a compromise he hopes she’ll find agreeable instead.

“How about I buy you a drink first?” he asks, his voice like gravel. She beams, taking his hand in hers and tugging him out of the backstage area and over to the venue’s bar.

He hopes she’s a lightweight and can’t hold her liquor; If he’s lucky, he might be able to get out of this without having to do more than smooth talking her for a bit.

Then

Now that the four of them are officially together as a unit, they’re completely unstoppable. Live show after live show, round after round, they just keep making it through. They’ve even managed to build their own (rather intimidating) fanbase who aggressively vote and keep them in the top 3 week after week.

It comes as a surprise to absolutely no one when Silver Dollar (the name the four of them had been strongly encouraged to adopt as a band name by the producers) wins the whole show. Along with the satisfaction of knowing that they’re (objectively) the best act on the show, they also get a record deal and the promise of at least one live tour in the UK.

Over the course of the show, all four of them have slowly slipped into the identities their team was sure would make them sell best; Niall is the every-guy down at the pub who’s best friends with your brother while also being the perfect laid back boyfriend. Liam is the boy next door who conveniently doubles as the perfect date. Zayn is broody and arty and deep and Harry … Harry is a slag.

That’s it. That’s literally all the image constructed for him consists of. He sleeps with women of every age, profession, and class status. He’ll wine and dine you first, of course, but there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Harry Styles is a grade A Womanizer.

Mums and daughters alike are liable to fall victim to his deadly charm. Harry’s sister Gemma had even told him about the horrifying rumour she’d overheard on the tube that Harry’s been known to have threesomes with mums and daughters together (at least it wasn’t his mum; they’d only just mended fences after their last fight and Harry really doesn’t want to disappoint her again ).

Obviously, not a word of it is true. In the half year since he first auditioned, the worst he’s had to do was give Cara an intimate hug and a cheek kiss while being photographed and then later be spotted out for dinner with a number of the other female contestants (and some b-list female celebrities on the same network). The more famous they become, the more the image gets pushed, and Harry has no doubt that he’s about to get pushed even further back into the closet than he already is.

Now

Fortunately for Harry, the girl (he really should try to learn her name) is actually a pretty decent conversationalist. Unfortunately for him, she seems just as intent on getting in his pants as she was before the booze had started flowing. Now she’s making eyes at him from her stool next to him on the bar, and he feels stiff and uncomfortable, trying to force a chemistry that clearly isn’t there.

He’s not going to have sex with her. That’s a line he’s refused to cross thus far and he’s not about to start now. He does, however, have to find a way to make her think he’s into her without actually doing anything about it.

He pays the tab and takes her by the arm, guiding her towards the exit when he overhears something so jarring and out of place he freezes where he’s standing.

“Yeah, Louis Tomlinson. I’ve heard he’s proper brilliant,” a woman dressed casually in skinny jeans and a blazer is saying to another woman who’s dressed similarly.

Harry ignores the girl’s incessant tugging on his arm, needing to hear more. He can’t reconcile Louis’ name with this random business woman in bloody Leeds of all places. He needs to know more.

He starts petting his pockets, acting as though he can’t find his wallet, hoping it bides him enough time to hear more.

“Oh he is. They were lucky to find him. He and that costar of his are incredible to watch together.” The second woman agrees, taking a sip of what looks like a gin and tonic. Co star? Since when did Louis want to act? Harry thought music had been the end all be all for both of them. Apparently he didn’t know his ex-boyfriend nearly as well as he’d thought.

The first woman smirks as she leans forward, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “You mean that girl on the teen show … Eleanor Calder, right?” At the other woman’s nod of confirmation, she continues. “I think there’s something going on between them. From what you showed me of the dailies, they seem to have this really intense connection. And we both know what that usually means.”

The second woman shrugs. “They certainly do spend enough time together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re fucking.”

Harry feels … wrong. That’s really the only word he can think of to describe the unease in the pit of his stomach. He and Louis had never really bothered to define their sexualities separate from their relationship. They’d started dating when they were so young that it’d never really come up. Harry had always just assumed that Louis wasn’t interested in woman, that even if he wasn’t with Harry he’d still be into guys. Clearly he was wrong. He hasn’t talked to Louis in a year but apparently in their time apart he’s managed to land an important film or television role and a famous girlfriend. He feels glued to the spot, desperate to know more but also horrified by what else he might hear.

The girl he’s supposed to be escorting chooses that moment to start tugging on his arm more and more insistently, and he looks up to see a not very subtle camera pointed in his face from across the room. Oh right. He was supposed to be photographed ‘pulling’ this girl so they could continue to sell the hetero Harry image and maintain the band’s popularity.

He does his best to summon some semblance of a legitimate smile for her, but the expression on her face tells him that it must look as fake as it feels. He hears the sound of the shutter clicking and then the girl rolls her eyes, muttering something about Harry being a spaced out freak before stalking towards the exit by herself.

He knows he fucked up a major deal and he’ll probably get yelled at but right now he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls out his phone and dials Niall’s number as he slowly trudges towards the door.

Part Three

“What do you think? Too much leg?”

Louis turns from where he’s focusing on making sure his shirt falls just right over his shoulders to see Eleanor awkwardly maneuvering herself in front of a full length mirror in what must be the tightest dress in the history of fashion.

Louis can’t stop himself from letting out a snort, looking apologetic when she glares at him.

“I’m sorry, El, it’s just … can you even breathe in that, babe?”

Eleanor sighs (or does her best to with her entire diaphragm wrapped so tightly). “Well, no, but fashion is pain.”

Louis rolls his eyes and walks over to her, tugging gently at the strap of her dress. “We both know you’re just going to regret wearing this. Especially when they start serving food and drinks and you don’t have room inside that dress to consume either of them.”

Eleanor begrudgingly nods, shuffling off to her room to pick another outfit. Louis uses the brief moment alone to pull out his phone, reading over the invite emailed to the entire cast of their show.

They’ve just wrapped the first season (which was a modest 10 episodes but Louis isn’t complaining) and the BBC had decided to throw a staff party and invite everyone under the umbrella, from TV stars to reporters to radio hosts.

He tucks his phone back inside his pocket, using the opportunity to check out his arse in the full length mirror. He smiles, satisfied, before going back to messing with his hair. He’s decided to go with the artful ‘cinnamon swirl’ look tonight (their show’s stylist, Lou, had given him a quick demo the day before).

He does his best to give the mirror a ‘come hither’ look, his concentration breaking when he hears Eleanor snort behind him.

“Very alluring, Lou.”

He rolls his eyes and turns to face her, his face breaking out into a grin when he sees what she’s changed into. Eleanor’s always had an eye for fashion, but she’s really outdone herself now; she’s wearing a gorgeous deep red dress which clings to her body gracefully without looking constraining. She’s paired the look with a pair of bright patterned pumps and Louis can say he’s fairly confident her boyfriend is going to be very pleased when he sees her.

“Well?” she asks, looking a bit nervous but trying to sound more confident than she is.

Louis beams at her. “You look gorgeous, El. And much less likely to pull an Elizabeth Swan and collapse in the middle of the party.”

She grins, strutting over to the mirror to fix her lipstick.

“You look pretty hot yourself, love. Are you looking to pull tonight?” Though the tone of her voice is casual, Louis can hear the genuine curiosity behind her words. He’s told her bits and pieces of his past, but she still doesn’t know that the ‘Harry’ who broke his heart is the famous womanizing Silver Dollar frontman Harry Styles.

He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to keep that particular secret, but he’s not exactly eager for it to become common knowledge. He shrugs in response.

“We’ll see, I guess.”

Eleanor’s eyes meet his in the mirror. “Grimmy’s going to be there.”

Louis feels his face flush a bit but doesn’t comment. Nick Grimshaw is the host of the BBC’s Morning Show and has made many a flattering comment about how attractive he thinks Louis’ character Jimmy is (even though he’s had nothing more to go on than the youtube trailer).

Louis doesn’t dignify her with a response, focusing on adjusting his shirt one final time.

***

Louis’ face hurts from smiling so much, and he’s pleasantly surprised to say that most of the grins he’s directed at people tonight have been genuine. While the show hasn’t actually premiered publicly yet, there’d been an advanced screening at the BBC the night before for whoever wanted to see it. Apparently the turnout had been incredible and the feedback for Louis in particular had been astounding.

Louis’ pretty sure he’s never been as congratulated and fawned over in his life as he has been tonight (not that he’s complaining - it’s always nice to be well thought of) and the wine glass he has in his hand is getting dangerously close to empty.

He frowns at it, debating whether it’s worth moving from the super comfortable chair he’s snagged and walking over to the bar or not when he feels a hand touch his shoulder.

He turns his head, blinking tipsily to see none other than Nick Grimshaw looking down at him.

“Oh. You.” he starts, any attempts at smoothness flying out the window.

Grimmy laughs, letting go of his shoulder and sitting down next to him. There’s not a lot of extra room on the seat, so Nick’s thigh brushes against Louis’ when he sits down. Louis pries his eyes away from where their bodies are touching and looks up to meet his eyes.

“Don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to meet properly yet,” Grimmy says, his expression warm. Louis feels something stirring in the pit of his stomach that hasn’t in a long time (like, since before Harry left). He pushes it down and focuses on not making a fool out of himself.

“No, I don’t think we have.” He sticks his hand out with a soft smile. “Louis Tomlinson.”

Nick takes his hand and Louis marvels at the size difference. One of Nick’s hands is easily equal to like, two of Louis’. He imagines Nick’s hands wandering further, down the seam of his pants …

And he shakes himself out of that thought quickly. He really must be more drunk than he realized. He’ll have to yell at Eleanor for not keeping a better eye on his alcohol consumption later.

The thing is, he hasn’t felt like this about anybody since Harry. Not even a single fleeting thought about being with anyone else, no desire for one night stands or a throwaway drunken fling. The feelings brewing in the pit of his stomach and the way he can feel his hands getting clammy are both completely foreign to him after so long.

He thinks back to what Eleanor said, about how Grimmy’s alluded to how attractive he finds Louis’ character on the show. And Louis lets himself hope. Because for the first time in a long time there’s an attractive man standing in front of him and Louis actually wants to (and can ) do something about it. He feels empowered.

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Louis. I have to say I feel like I know you already after watching the pilot.” Louis can detect a hint of teasing in his tone, and yes, this is more familiar territory for him. He smirks, knowing it makes his eyes sparkle and his cheekbones stand out even more than usual. Nick doesn’t stand a chance.

“Well, I think I’m better company than Jimmy to be fair.”

Nick grins. “Oh yeah? And how’s that?”

Louis reaches for Nick’s hand and gently taps his pointer finger. “Less broody, for one,” he moves onto his middle finger, gently touching the tip of it as he makes his second point. “And far less trouble with the whole ‘self-acceptance’ bit. I reckon Jimmy’s still got a lot to learn about loving himself.”

Nick raises his eyebrow at that, clearly picking up on Louis’ flirty tone (and hopefully, his intentions).

“Well, those are both important. Though I think there are still some pretty important similarities between the two of you.” Louis purses his lips (attractively, he hopes) waiting for Nick to continue.

“Oh?”

Nick leans forward, his lips grazing Louis’ ear as his voice drops. “You’re both incredibly attractive and could probably bag any person in the room.”

Louis feels his face flush, undeniably affected. He turns to see Nick looking intently at him, his expression composed but only just. There’s a look in his eyes, a hunger, that brings out a primal desire Louis hasn’t felt in over a year. He wants him.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” He asks, and both of them know exactly what he’s asking. Louis can hardly believe how daring he’s being. He should send the vineyard of the wine he’s drinking a thank you note for the liquid courage.

“That’s rather forward of you considering we’ve just met,” Nick replies, and Louis feels the confidence he’d built up come crashing down. Nick must catch the change in Louis’ expression because he tightens his grip on Louis’ thigh. “I was just teasing, love. There’s nothing I want more. I just have to do the rounds one last time before we head out.”

Louis’ sure the relief on his face is visible from outer space as Nick pats him on the leg before standing up. “Meet you outside in fifteen?”

Louis gives him a small smile and a nod. Nick shoots him one final look over his shoulder before walking away and that’s when it hits Louis that he’s actually doing this. He’s going to sleep with someone who isn’t Harry.

And for once, the feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of sex with someone new isn’t one of dread but rather excitement.

***

Louis wakes up the next morning feeling like he’s being suffocated. He tries his best to squirm out from under his blanket, but the arm wrapped around his tummy gives him pause.

Right.

He slept with Nick Grimshaw last night.

Louis freezes, waiting for the panic to wash over him like he’s sure it will, but after a couple of seconds with nothing but the quiet hum of the pipes to distract from Nick’s naked body completely wrapped around him, Louis realizes things aren’t as dire as he’d assumed.

Sure, he just had someone else's dick in his mouth for the first time since he and Harry broke up but there’s a surprising lack of anxiety. Louis’ kind of weirdly … content.

At least he is until Nick tightens his grip around Louis’ torso in his sleep and Louis really can’t breathe.

Louis starts wriggling around, hoping his movements will cause Nick to loosen his arms. Nick grumbles a bit and finally opens his eyes to see Louis’ wide blue ones staring intently back at him. Louis’ gratified to see that his first instinct upon waking up is to smile.

“Wasn’t sure if I’d dreamed it all or if this actually happened,” Nick says, his morning voice rough and doing things to Louis already.

Louis reaches out and pokes the massive love bite he’d left next to Nick’s nipple, grinning as Nick groans.

“You nearly suffocated me in your sleep, mate, and sad to say I’ve not got a choking kink.”

Nick raises his eyebrows at that. “Oh mate is it now? Even after I got my hands on you last night?”

Louis smirks. “Got your hands in me is more like.”

Nick stares at him in mock disbelief before they both break out in laughter.

“I’m glad to see awkward morning afters apparently aren’t a thing with us,” Nick says fondly after Louis lets out a particularly embarrassing giggle.

“Nah, I think one of us would have to regret it for that to happen.”

“So you don’t, then? Regret anything that happened between us?” Nick asks curiously, voice relaxed.

Louis shakes his head. “I regret letting you share my pillow. If I’d had any idea what an obnoxious snorer you were I’d have set you up on the pull out couch.”

Nick swats at him. “Hey! You’re no angel either. Kept kicking me all night long. Was a little concerned I’d wake up covered in foot shaped bruises.”

Before Louis can respond, his phone rings. He glances at the caller ID to see that it’s Eleanor.

Nick wraps a blanket around his waist and gives Louis a quick peck on the cheek. “Feel free to get that. I’ll start breakfast.”

“You cook too? I’m never letting you go now.” Louis calls after him before answering Eleanor’s call.

He barely even has the chance to say hello before he hears Eleanor’s curious, “Soooooooooooo?”

“And good morning to you too, El.”

“Skip the pleasantries. How was it?!” Louis can practically feel Eleanor vibrating over the phone with curiosity.

“Some might say I should be concerned with how invested you are in my sex life.” Louis drawls, choosing to let it drag on a bit. He’s a tease, he’s never pretended otherwise.

“Cut the crap, Lou. We both know this is a big deal. In the whole time I’ve known you you’ve never gone home with anyone or even shown any interest. Spill!”

Louis feels himself blush even though she can’t see him. “It was … it was kind of amazing, actually.”

Louis has to pull the phone away from his ear as soon as Eleanor starts whooping and hollering on the other end.

“I am so happy for you! God, you were so stoic about your last relationship, and even though I didn’t know the details it was obvious the guy had fucked you up pretty badly.” She pauses, and Louis thinks he even hears her sniffle. “I’ve just wanted you to be happy for so long and now it seems like you’re moving on. I feel like a proud mama bird.”

Louis laughs much louder than he’d intended to, apparently no longer able to control his own voice. “I forgot what it’s like to want someone and have them want you back just as much,” he whispers, hoping Nick is far away enough that he can’t hear just how particularly sappy he’s gotten.

Eleanor coos over the phone. “You deserve so much better than you’ve gotten, Lou, and if the look on Grimmy’s face when he left with you last night is any indication, I have a pretty good feeling things are just going to keep getting better.”

Eleanor tells him she doesn’t want to keep him much longer (he does have a half-naked man cooking him breakfast in the other room) so they wrap up the call pretty quickly.

Louis walks out of the bedroom with a bounce in his step in nothing but a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt he hopes is clean.

Nick looks up from where he’s scrambling some eggs, a tiny smile on his face. “Amazing, hmm?”

Louis blushes. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Nick’s grin grows bigger as he puts the spatula down and steps closer to Louis, wrapping him up in his arms. “It was, though. No need to feel embarrassed. Everything about last night was amazing.”

Louis gets the courage to look up and meet his eyes, and what he sees there floors him. Nick looks almost dopily affectionate, like he can’t quite believe his luck either. Louis gets on his tip toes and gives him a soft peck.

They both hear the eggs sizzling dangerously in the pan and Nick yelps, letting go of Louis to turn down the burner. Louis starts giggling and Nick turns to make a face at him.

“Oi, it’s your breakfast that’s burning.”

Louis sidles up to him, putting a hand on his lower back. “Oh I’m sorry, am I ruining the moment?”

Nick glares at him, but there’s no heat behind it. “Hush you little tease. You’re lucky I was able to save these in time.” He turns the burner off and divies them up on two plates, adding some ham and fruit on the sides.

His phone pings loudly just as they’ve sat down and Nick gives him an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s work.” Louis just waves his hand before digging into his own meal.

Nick scrolls quickly through his phone, a tiny furrow appearing between his eyebrows. “Hmmmm,” he mumbles to himself before putting the phone away and looking at Louis.

“Well, it’s a good thing our morning after went so smoothly,” he says with a grin.

“Oh? And why’s that, then?” Louis pries, already having a pretty good idea of what Nick’s going to say.

“Because I just found out I’ll be interviewing you and Eleanor next week, which, you know, would probably be incredibly awkward if the whole sex thing had gone tits up.”

Louis lets out a rather undignified snort. “That would have been quite an accomplishment considering neither of us has tits.”

Nick groans. “Is this the kind of teasing I have to look forward to on the show? Should I put in a request for Greg James to do the interview instead?”

Louis bounds up from the table and plops himself in Nick’s lap. “Looks like you’re stuck with me now, what a shame.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You are such a brat.”

Louis responds by stealing the last bit of egg of Nick’s plate.

***

Nick’s only just wrapping up the show, the first bars of the last song of his segment playing when Eleanor whips off her headphones and pokes Louis in the arm.

He turns to her with his eyebrows raised and mutters, “What?” conscious of the microphone that’s more than likely still picking up their audio.

She grins, subtly pointing at Nick, then back at him, then making the very crude and very obvious finger-in-hole sign at him. Louis chokes on his tea.

Nick looks at him in alarm. “You okay, love?”

Louis finally manages to breathe, sending Eleanor a glare before turning to Nick. “Just a minor bit of asphyxiation, s’all good now.”

Nick pulls his own headphones off. “So that went well, I think, all things considered.”

Eleanor giggles. “It’s a wonder you were able to hold a straight face when you asked if Louis and I were involved .”

“It’s a wonder I can hold a straight anything, darling,” Nick retorts dryly.

The production company had thought their show would do better in the ratings if Louis and Eleanor, as the leads, were seen together getting coffee and dinner together and effectively pretending they were dating. Clearly, it was all bullshit as Eleanor has a boyfriend already and Louis sort of has Nick, but if it means they get to eat fancy meals at overpriced restaurants without having to pay for it, who is Louis to complain?

Part of the deal, of course, was for them to play coy when Nick asked about their ‘budding relationship’ on air. Little do the listeners at home know, but Louis will be going home with Nick tonight.

First, there is the little matter of another set up papping at a coffee shop around the corner from the BBC. Louis is getting really tired of pretending he can’t see the cameras that are very blatantly taking his picture but if it means the press will leave his actual personal life alone he’ll suck it up.

Nick gestures for them to clear the room as the next host gets ready to take over. He walks Louis and Eleanor out to the hallway, gently taking Louis’ elbow and holding him back at bit.

“We’re still on for tonight, yeah?” He murmurs in Louis’ ear. Louis wonders briefly if it’s obvious to everyone Nick works with what’s going on with them.

Louis looks up at him, a tiny smile on his face. “Course. I’ll bring you a slice of that coffee cake you like and everything.”

Nick looks around quickly, and once he’s sure no one’s paying attention to them, pats him on the bum.

“Right then. See you in a bit, babe.”

Eleanor only makes fun of him a little bit on the way to their next set up papping for how soft he already is over Nick. He thinks maybe he’s finally ready to tell her what happened between him and Harry. He’s tired of carrying the burden alone. And maybe, he thinks, he’s finally truly ready to move on.

***

Harry hates starting the morning off in a terrible mood, but it hadn’t actually been up to him this time. His usual routine was to shower, make food, and head to the recording studio but this morning he’d run out of groceries and had decided to stop by Tesco first to pick up some croissants.

It’s not until he sees the tabloid covers in line that he thinks it might’ve been better to skip breakfast altogether and just eat at the studio.

His brain almost doesn’t process what he’s seeing at first; Louis with his arm around the shoulders of a slim, gorgeous brunette woman as they leave a coffee place he vaguely recognizes the exterior of.

He feels his stomach lurch as he scans the cover frantically, his gaze locking on the genuine smile on Louis’ face and the place where his hand grazes her arm. The girl’s expression is similarly serene, her teeth sparkling white and her eyes hidden behind a pair of expensive sunglasses.

Harry’s eyes shift over to the text, skimming the headline as quickly as he can before the line moves:

LOUIS TOMLINSON AND ELEANOR CALDER SPOTTED ON COFFEE DATE - onlookers left wondering whether or not the BBC co-stars are secretly together. Read more about their romance inside.

Harry hears an impatient cough behind him in line and turns to see a middle aged woman with a particularly sour expression gesturing at him to move to the counter.

He flushes, making a last minute decision (obviously fueled by self-hatred and masochism) to grab a copy of the magazine and add it to his basket before taking it up to the cashier.

***

While he’d normally at least try to pretend like he’s okay, Harry doesn’t give a fuck who knows that he’s in a pissy mood. He snaps at the girl at the front desk when she makes a harmless comment about him not being early for once, choosing to stalk off towards their recording studio rather than apologize when he sees her face fall.

Niall, Zayn, Liam, and their production team are already set up when he arrives. Niall shoots him a grin but Harry pointedly keeps his eyes down, walking over to the couch and throwing his jacket and Tesco bag down without a word.

Niall looks perturbed but not particularly offended, which Harry counts as a small blessing. He knows he’ll feel bad for being a dick later.

Julian, one of their writers, claps his hands together. “Alright, now that the whole team’s here - how do we feel about starting with Sweet Michelle ?”

Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes. Most of their album is aggressively heterosexual (as per the label’s orders) but he’s especially not in the mood to sing a song about a fictional woman he has no interest in.

“Problem Harry?” Julian asks, and while his voice is pretty even, his tone betrays his surprise and irritation at the interruption.

“Yeah. It’s a bad song.” The whole room goes quiet.

“I’m sorry?” Julian asks, offended.

“Well, like, the song itself isn’t objectively bad. It’s well written and the beat’s good, but it’s so … it could be sung by anyone. There’s none of our personality in it. None of our feelings. I mean, who the fuck is Michelle anyway? Why not Monica? Why not bloody Bertha ? At least then we’d stand out from the crowd. Not like there are many Bertha’s with love songs written about them.”

No one says anything. Julian clears his throat. “Harry, if you had a problem with the song you should have said something months ago. And we both know it’s not up to me. Your label gave us a direction they wanted your music to go. I’m just doing my job.”

Harry sighs. He knows Julian’s right. He knows that ultimately his hissy fit isn’t going to change anything. He’s just so tired of lying all the time. He’s tired of always having to pretend something and someone he’s not.

He misses the person he used to be. He misses Louis.

Before he can say anything else he’ll probably end up regretting later, Harry sighs. “Fine. Whatever. Sweet Michelle it is.”

Julian gives him a long look before heading into the sound booth to test their levels with the sound engineer. As soon as he leaves, Zayn grabs Harry by the arm and drags him to the corner.

Considering Harry spends most of his time with Niall and rarely interacts with Zayn one on one, he’s sure the look of surprise on his face is visible from space.

“I know why you’re acting like a giant pissbaby, you know.” Zayn says unceremoniously as soon as they’re out of earshot of the other boys.

Harry’s mouth drops open. “What did you call me?”

Zayn points to where Harry’s stuff is sprawled across the couch. The cover of the tabloid he’d grabbed at the last minute pokes out of his Tesco bag, the corner of Louis’ face just visible.

“Just because he’s moved on doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole.”

Harry gapes. “How did you know?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “You two were pretty obvious back in school. I know you thought you were being all stealthy and that no one knew, but it didn’t take more than a pair of working eyes and ears to see that you and Louis were together.”

Harry feels his face pale. “Who else knew?”

Zayn shrugs. “I mean, you weren’t exactly subtle so I don’t know. I don’t know how many people actually paid attention to you or cared, though.”

Harry feels all of his anger and bitterness drain out of him as he sags against the wall, suddenly so tired .

“I miss him. And before, at least, I could just focus on the band and our career and pretend like everything was fine. But now he’s everywhere - I can’t even go to bloody Tesco in peace - and I can’t hide from what I did to him anymore.”

Harry feels his eyes tear up as his body fills with shame. “I fucked up, Zayn. I fucked up so badly. And now it looks like he’s finally moved on. I didn’t even know he liked girls, how fucked is that?”

Zayn gives him an odd look. “Harry, it’s a tabloid.”

“Yes, and?”

Zayn shakes his head. “You can’t actually be this naive. It’s a tabloid . Are you actually in love with Cara Delevingne and the rest of the harem of women you’ve been photographed with?”

Harry shakes his head.

Zayn sighs. “So why on earth would you just accept that he and Eleanor are suddenly in love or whatever. Don’t they star in a show together? That’s like the easiest promo in the world.”

Harry feels his heart speed up. “Louis wouldn’t do that. That was, like, the crux behind our break up.”

Zayn shrugs. “Well, that was before he was part of the game. He might not even have a choice in the matter. For what it’s worth, my friend was at the BBC party a few weeks ago and said that Eleanor was there with her longterm boyfriend.”

Harry can’t help but sigh in relief. “So they’re just friends.”

Zayn nods. “I mean, most likely.” He pauses, watching Harry get his breathing back under control.

Harry gets up on shaky legs. “Fuck. I have to apologize to Julian.” he pauses, his eyes widening. “And Niall. And shit, that girl at the front desk.”

He walks off without another word, heading right over to Julian and throwing his arms around him in an apologetic hug.

Zayn waits until Harry’s distracted before pulling out his phone. He scrolls through his contacts, hovering over one in particular before finally sucking it up and starting a new text.

Hey man. Is there any way you can get me Louis Tomlinson’s phone number? I promise it’s important or I wouldn’t ask.

He holds his breath before finally hitting send.

***

Louis’ not actually sure why he agreed to this. But then again, it’s not every day he gets a phone call from an unknown number that winds up being a former classmate/his ex-boyfriend’s current bandmate.

So, of course, when Zayn Malik had asked to meet him for coffee he’d choked out a surprised yes before his brain had a chance to catch up with his mouth. Though Louis’ heart is pounding in his chest, it’s too late to back down now; he’s already five minutes late and he’s pretty sure he can see the top of Zayn’s head just inside the coffee shop. Right. He should probably stop lurking outside and just get it over with.

Hesitantly, Louis pushes the door open. Zayn’s eyes look up and meet his across the room, and Louis forces himself to assume an air of confidence he doesn’t actually have, desperate to look more put together than he feels. He may not know what Zayn’s here to talk to him about, but he’s positive Zayn will report back to Harry about it and he refuses to let the last traces of lingering heartbreak show on his face.

He forces on a smile and strides to the table where a steaming cup of tea already sits waiting for him.

Zayn stands up as Louis approaches, his face difficult to read. Louis feels his smile falter but he pushes forward anyhow.

There’s a brief moment of awkward silence where neither of them know what to say or who should speak first before Zayn breaks the ice.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Louis purses his lips. “Couldn’t leave you hanging. Me mum raised me better than that.”

Zayn visibly relaxes at Louis’ tone, a shy smile making its way across his face. “Right. Course.” He sits back down, gesturing for Louis to do the same across from him.

“I won’t say I wasn’t surprised to hear from you,” Louis starts, adding a bit of milk to his tea before taking a sip. “I didn’t even know you had my number.”

Zayn raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t. Had to ask my mate who works at the BBC to pass it along to me.”

Louis looks up in surprise. “Well. Whatever reason you have for asking me here must be really serious then.” His tone is lighthearted, but Zayn nods along gravely.

“Sort of, yeah.” He pauses, as if weighing his words before speaking. “Harry’s not doing well,” he finally lets out with a sigh.

Louis nearly chokes on his tea. “That’s why you called me here?”

Zayn narrows his eyes at him. “Did you think it’d be something else? We didn’t exactly talk back in school, mate, not much else we have in common other than Harry.”

Louis can feel his hands shaking. “I think I should go.”

“What, you don’t even want to hear what I have to say?”

Louis shoots him an angry look. “No. I don’t. The last time he and I spoke was over a year ago, and short of you telling me he needs an organ transplant and I’m the only eligible donor, I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help you.”

Louis gathers up his stuff, his posture stiff as he gets up from the table.

“Louis, he needs help.”

Louis whips around with a glare. “That is not my problem. Not anymore.”

Zayn’s voice hardens. “He’s on the verge of a breakdown. All of this fame and shit is getting to him, we can all see it, but he never lets any of us in. He’s going to burn out.”

Louis lets out a bitter laugh. “He seems to be doing just fine to me. Lead singer of a breakout band, Making more money than he’s ever dreamed of, not to mention he’s London’s most eligible bachelor sleeping his way through half of the UK.”

Zayn snorts in exasperation. “Not you too,” he mutters to himself.

“Louis, none of that means anything. Besides, we both know none of that bullshit about his love life is true. You of all people should know he’s not interested in those women.” Zayn makes sure Louis’ looking him in the eye before continuing. “In all the time I’ve known him I’ve never seen him go home with anyone. Male or Female.”

Louis’ feels the blood in his veins turn to sludge. “It doesn’t matter. He chose this.”

Zayn shakes his head. “Yeah, and he was an idiot teenager with no idea how hard it’d be to constantly pretend he’s something he’s not.  He regrets it, you know? He acts like everything’s fine but I can see it in his eyes. If he could go back, I know he’d choose you over the audition, over the band, over the fame. All of it. He was scared and he lashed out, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to hate himself and the situation he’s gotten himself into for the rest of eternity.”

And that … that hurts. Not only because it’s true, but because the person who should be telling Louis this himself hasn’t spoken to him in over a year.

“Then why isn’t he the one telling me this?” Louis demands, his voice like ice.

Zayn gives him a pointed look. “Because he’s a stubborn git who’d rather suffer all his life than admit he’s wrong about anything. But then again, you already knew that.”

For once, Louis doesn’t have anything to say. He just stares at Zayn, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

Zayn stands up, pulling on his jacket. “His number hasn’t changed, you know,” he says with a look Louis can’t quite read.

“Thank you,” Louis murmurs. Whether for the tea or the heads up about Harry’s number, he’s not sure.

***

It’s safe to say whatever improvement Harry has felt in his mood instantly dissipates as soon as Zayn walks into the studio a few days after the Tesco Tabloid Fiasco with a guilty look on his face.

Before Harry even has a chance to ask what’s wrong, Zayn whisks him out of the main room and into the hallway so they can have a bit of privacy.

“I just thought you should know I had coffee with Louis,” Zayn tells him apropos of nothing.

Harry fishmouths for a second before the anger finally kicks in.

“Why would you do that? Jesus, Zayn, what the fuck is wrong with you? Can’t you ever mind your own goddamned business?”

Zayn stares at him with an even expression.

“You can pretend to be pissed off with me all you want, but I know you’re secretly relieved. The way I see it, the divide between you two seemed too great to try and cross before. I just built you a bridge. I know you miss him, Harry, and I know you wish you could talk to him.”

Harry is seething. “This is none of your business, Zayn. I can’t believe you’d go behind my back like this.”

While he does a good job covering it with anger, Harry feels nothing but terror. Zayn’s pretty much opened up Pandora’s box after a year of silence and zero communication between him and Louis.

Fuck. This is bad.

“You do a good job hiding it most of the time, but you forget that I knew you before all of this ,” Zayn says, gesturing to the recording studio around them. “Yeah, we might not have been friends, but even I can see that you’ve changed since you ended things with Louis. You used to be so alive, so vibrant.” He pauses, his eyes sad. “You’ve lost your spark, Harry. You used to be so alive. I’d get jealous watching you two, you know. You could just feel the energy and the passion radiating off of the both of you. Now you’re just … hollow.”

And for once, Harry doesn’t have anything to shoot back at Zayn with. He’s right. Harry knows he’s right.

“So what do I do?” He finally asks.

***

This must be the dumbest idea Zayn’s ever had (and he’s had a lot in the short time Harry’s known him). Go to Louis’ house, Zayn had said. Surprise him on his doorstep and apologize. Show him you still care and that you’ve learned from your mistakes.

That sounded great, in theory, but now that Harry’s actually here? He’s terrified. Zayn had given him the address for a building in Hackney, and after spending a solid twenty minutes staring at the location on his phone he’d finally given in and gotten in his car.

He hasn’t spoken to Louis in a year. Literally a year. No emails, no texts, not even the old passing-a-message-to-him-via-their-mums. Nothing.

To top it off, the last time they had talked, Harry had broken up with him and made him cry. Yeah, he’s really starting to wonder what the fuck Zayn had been thinking with his suggestion.

It’s kind of too late to turn back now as he’s literally on Louis’ doorstep. He’d been surprised to discover that Louis lives in a relatively modest flat considering how well he knows his show’s been doing, but then again, Louis is probably still adjusting to even having enough money buy his own place in the city.

He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

Harry’s still not sure what he’s going to say when Louis does finally open the door. He’s mainly just hoping Louis doesn’t slam it in his face.

The hall light flicks on and Harry can see someone approaching from the other side through the frosted glass window. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself to see the person whose heart he shattered all those months ago.

When the door finally swings open, it’s not Louis he ends up making awkward eye contact with, but a nearly naked BBC Radio 1 DJ Nick Grimshaw.

Harry feels his own heart crack in half right on Louis’ doorstep.

Part Four

Harry’s not sure his eyes are even processing what’s in front of him; it’s like he can only take the information in in singular pieces.

Nick Grimshaw is standing in the doorway. It’s the middle of the night. He’s barely wearing any clothing. Harry’s pretty sure there’s a rapidly reddening love bite on his neck. He’s apparently close enough with Louis that he’s allowed to a) stay overnight b) in very little clothing and c) answer the door.

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to string together what’s going on, his heart plummeting and his adrenaline spiking in the same uncomfortable moment.

He’s tempted to just run away. It’s not too late, he can probably get away before having to engage in any awkward conversation with -

“Who is it, babe?” Harry hears Louis’ sleepy voice say before he sees him. Still oblivious to who’s on his doorstep, Louis wraps his arms around Nick’s waist from behind before finally looking over Nick’s shoulder to see who’s there.

It takes him a second to recognize the person standing in front of him, and when he does, Louis’ eyes widen and his entire body tenses visibly.

There’s a terrible moment of pained, confused silence before Harry just turns and walks away without a word, praying Nick and Louis are still stunned enough not to follow him.

He doesn’t breathe easily again until he’s in his car, pulling away from the house, away from Louis - as far away as he can possibly get.

He makes it five miles before his emotions overtake him and he pulls over on the side of the road, shaking silently as he pushes back the tears he didn’t even know he had left in him.

***

When the doorbell had first gone, Louis had been in the middle of sucking an impressive love bite into his boyfriend’s neck. At the sound, Louis had slowly detached his lips and given his front door the side eye.

“Were we expecting anyone?” Nick had asked, his voice husky and his hand still wrapped around Louis’ waist. The other one sat on the curve of Louis’ lower back, his fingers teasingly making their way lower and lower.

Louis had closed his eyes and sighed. “No. My only plan for tonight was to get you naked as quickly as possible.” He had looked down at their general look of debauchery. “Seems we’re both in a right state to open the door now.”

Nick had laughed before planting a kiss on the top of Louis’ head and shifting him from his lap over to the couch.

“Seeing as I’m currently wearing slightly more clothing than you, I’ll go see if it’s anything important while you, erm,” his eyes had scanned up and down Louis’ body, his pupils still blown wide with lust. “find a miu miu to cover up with or something.”

His brain had been too occupied with finding a robe and resuming his and Nick’s interrupted activities that he hadn’t spared a thought to wonder who was actually at the door.

Suffice to say, seeing his ex-boyfriend standing on the other side of the threshold nearly stopped his heart.

Before Louis even has a chance to process what’s happening, Harry’s already retreated half-way down the driveway.

Neither of them say anything until the sound of a car engine roars to life in the otherwise quiet night air.

“Was that who I think it was?” Nick eventually asks once they’ve made it back inside and locked the door behind them.

Louis can’t find it in himself to speak so he settles for nodding. The effect is kind of ruined when a few renegade tears rolls down his face.

“Oh babe,” Nick murmurs, pulling Louis into his arms as the tears start coming faster and faster, soaking into the front of Nick’s t-shirt as he buries his face in his chest.

“I think there are some things I need to tell you,” Louis finally admits once he’s mostly got his emotions under control.

“Only if you want to, love.” Nick assures him, rubbing a warm hand up and down Louis’ back.

Louis nods again.

Nick presses a gentle kiss to Louis’ forehead but doesn’t say anything, just holds him closer as they both stand silently in Louis’ foyer.

***

Harry’s one and only thought is to get completely pissed as soon as possible. He moves towards that goal with a single minded focus that would impress even Niall.

The sooner he gets wasted, the sooner he can stop feeling things. He’s doing everything in his power to stop his brain from thinking about the implications of what he just witnessed. He can’t go there, can’t let himself seriously consider the fact that Louis not only has a boyfriend but that said boyfriend is also pretty well-known himself. Also that Harry had clearly interrupted them in the middle of fooling around.

No. Stop. He needs vodka.

Vodka will stop these thoughts and the resulting awful feelings from infiltrating his mind and festering in his brain.

Harry’s never had the chance to see much (or any) of the London gay scene himself, but he has heard stories from friends and, luckily for him, one of the the more popular gay bars just happens to be a few minutes drive away from Louis’ new place.

Harry aggressively pulls his car into an open spot and gets out before logic or common sense can catch up with him.

He’s going to dance and flirt and kiss and hopefully have sex with a bloke tonight. And for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t give a fuck who might find out.

Louis’ clearly moved on. It’s obviously well-past time that he does too.

Harry pulls out his phone and stares at the screen before sending Zayn a text that just says he has a boyfriend .

He throws his phone in his car and locks the door. He won’t be distracted from his goal tonight.

***

Harry’s got a tall, scruffy guy pressed against his back and another man pressed against his front, both grinding up against him. He hasn’t been this drunk in a very long time, and while he can’t say he’s going to enjoy the inevitable hangover tomorrow, for the moment he’s very much a fan of not having to deal with his dark thoughts and instead being able to devote himself completely to staying in the middle of a dance floor orgy.

He had seen a couple of people staring at him as if he looked familiar but none of their eyes had lit up with the recognition he’s used to. Now, 7 drinks and 3 hours later, Simon Cowell himself could recognize him and it wouldn’t faze Harry even a little bit.

The song changes and the guy in the front of their grinding sandwich winks at Harry and the other guy before heading over to the bar.

Harry takes the opportunity to turn around and take a good look at the person dancing behind him.

He’s … well, he’s not exactly the stereotypical guy in a gay bar, but then neither is Harry. He’s got relatively short hair, a strong jawline, and a well-groomed hipster beard. Not Harry’s usual type but still ridiculously hot. He’s also got a massive cock if the bulge he’s grinding up on Harry’s backside is anything to go by.

The guy winks and leans down to whisper in Harry’s ear. “Bathroom?”

Harry stares back at him. This is it. The moment he’s been waiting for. He can join this guy for a quickie in the loo or he can leave now before much damage has been done (he’s sure he’ll be getting an earful from his team either way).

Unbidden, an image of Louis cuddling with Nick by the front door pops into Harry’s mind. His jealousy makes the decision for him.

He nods.

The other guy smirks, satisfied, before taking Harry by the hand and leading him off the dance floor.

***

It’s not the best blowjob he’s ever gotten, but seeing as this is the first guy Harry’s been with since he ended things with Louis, he’s determined to make it count. He realizes that drunken hook ups fueled entirely by jealousy and bitterness probably aren’t exactly the pinnacle of romance, but what can you do? He’s just happy he was even able to get it up in the first place.

The guy’s only just started, his tongue swirling around the head of Harry’s dick when someone starts banging on the door.

“It’s occupied,” Harry manages to grunt out, the guy just starting to take him deeper, but the banging increases in volume and intensity.

“I said it’s - “ Harry starts to shout, when the lock on the door breaks revealing none other than Zayn himself. “ - oh.”

The guy finally pulls off at the intrusion, shooting Harry’s bandmate a glare. “We’re kind of in the middle of something, yeah?”

The look Zayn sends him is like ice. “Get out.”

The guy looks like he’s going to argue, and Harry really doesn’t care enough about him or his mediocre blowjob technique to care.

“It’s fine. Thanks for,” he awkwardly gestures at his dick, now half-limp and still hanging out of his pants.

The guy stares at him, his eyes narrowed before standing up and leaving the bathroom.

The second the bathroom door swings shut behind him Zayn turns on him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea who that was?”

Harry stares at him, a feeling of panic starting to bubble up in his chest even through the haze of alcohol. He shakes his head.

“That’s exactly the point! It could have been anyone! I know you can be a massive fucking moron on occasion, but this really takes the biscuit.”

And well, when Zayn puts it like that, Harry can’t really disagree.

Zayn sighs, pointing at Harry’s crotch. “Put that thing away, for fuck’s sake.”

Harry complies robotically, his thoughts racing. He could have seriously jeopardized everything he’s worked so hard for. All he can do now is hope no one recognized him (or if they did, that no one goes blabbing to the papers).

Zayn, meanwhile, is muttering to himself as he aggressively taps out a text on his phone. “Idiot. Could have fucked up your entire career because you just had to try and one up your ex-boyfriend.”

Harry glares. “It’s not like that. I just wanted to feel good for once and not be ashamed of it.” He pauses, looking down. “Louis looked so happy and free and I just … I wanted to feel like again, even for just a couple of blissed out moments.”

Zayn looks up from his phone expectantly. “And did you? Did that mediocre looking blowjob work the way you wanted it too?”

Harry’s eyes stay glued to the floor. “No. It just made me miss him more.”

Zayn sighs, moving over to put a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s not too late, you know. To try apologizing again.”

“You didn’t see them, Zayn. They looked so happy. I don’t deserve him. Not anymore.”

Zayn gives him a look. “Maybe the old you didn’t, but this version of you? The one who’s been silently suffering for almost a year and who keeps reliving every single mistake he made in his head? I think he deserves a second chance.”

Harry just sighs. Maybe Zayn’s right. Maybe, at the very least, he and Louis can work towards being friends again.

Zayn’s phone lights up with a text. “Our ride’s outside.”

Oh right. Speaking of which …

“How’d you find me anyway? I didn’t tell you where I was going.”

“Your phone told me.”

Harry looks at him, affronted. “You hacked my phone’s GPS?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “No you absolute moron. You have your location turned on in iMessage. Wasn’t exactly hard to find you.”

Harry’s too tired to even formulate a response. He lets Zayn guide him out of the bathroom, through the club, and out to the car waiting to pick them up.

***

Louis wakes up when he feels the weight of someone getting into bed with him. It’s still dark out, pitch black really, and he’s still barely conscious. He feels the gentle press of lips against the crown of his head and the familiar smell of Harry’s cologne tickles his nostrils. Louis feels his heart rate spike.

He rolls over and locks eyes with his ex-boyfriend but Harry’s expression is impossible to read.

“What are you doing here?” Louis asks, too confused to be angry.

Harry doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to look intently at Louis.

“How’d you get in? I didn’t give you a key.” Louis continues to blather, trying to ignore the feeling of intense relief in his stomach that Harry had come back. He’d finally come back.

Harry reaches a hand out and gently plays with the hair at the back of Louis’ neck the way he always used to do when Louis was upset and needed comforting.

“I miss you,” Harry says eventually, finally breaking the silence.

“Then why did you leave?” Louis asks, hating how his voice breaks, hating how he doesn’t even know which time he’s referring to - what just happened that night or the first time.

Harry looks down. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you come here? Why now?” Louis demands, needing to know what’s changed. Why he’s suddenly back in his life.

“I can’t stay,” Harry says, cryptic as ever.

“Don’t leave,” Louis can’t even be bothered to care about how pathetic he sounds. “Please don’t leave again.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says again before getting up from the bed.

“Harry!” Louis cries out after him, trying to get up and follow him, but the sheets are completely tangled around his legs. He tries to push them off, but they’ve turned into snakes, and now they’re tightening around his legs, slithering up his body and wrapping around his throat and his chest, strangling him.

Louis tries to pry the snakes off, but they’ve wrapped around his wrists too. His vision starts going black around the edges, but he can just make out Harry standing by the door, watching silently as Louis’ strangled to death.

“Help me,” Louis gasps, but Harry just gives him a sad smile before turning and walking away.

“Don’t … leave,” Louis chokes out, but it’s too late. Harry’s gone.

Louis stops fighting the snakes.

It’s not until he feels Nick’s arms around him, frantically trying to wake him up, saying it was just a bad dream that Louis realizes what happened.

And as fucked up as it is, he can’t help the instinctive feeling of disappointment when he realizes it’s Nick in his bed with him rather than Harry.

***

Harry wakes up alone in bed the next morning to the sound of his phone ringing shrilly across the room, and it takes him a second to remember why he’s feeling relieved about that. Oh right, he’d gotten half a blowjob last night from a guy he wasn’t particularly attracted to because he was jealous and lonely. He’s sober and emotionally stable enough now to realize what a massively idiotic move that had been, and he’s grateful it didn’t have a chance to go further. He’s going to have to send Zayn a fruit basket later.

His phone screeches at him (Niall had specifically chosen the most annoying ringtone in the world because Harry is notoriously hard to wake up) and he groans as he rolls over to grab it off the side table.

“‘Lo?” He mumbles. The cold clipped voice on the other end wakes him up rather abruptly.

“43 major websites across the country are all the running the same story this morning. Care to guess what it’s about?”

Harry’s whole body flashes cold.

“I hope the bathroom hookup was worth it. We’re sending a car for you immediately. Be ready.”

No.

No no no no no.

This cannot be happening.

No one had seen them in the bathroom except for Zayn. And before that, with the dancing, no one had really seemed to recognize him (or if they had, there’s no way they could have known what had gone on afterward in the toilets).

Harry pulls up the Daily Mail website and is hit with a flash of betrayal that rips through his entire body.

The entire homepage is a giant picture of his face with the headline HARRY STYLES GAY SHOCKER.

Harry’s heart starts to pound frantically in his chest as he scrolls through the pictures. There’s one of him dancing with a guy at the club, and while the pictures are intimate they’re not particularly damning. Harry feels himself start to unclench a bit, hoping his team will be able to write the entire story off as slander. It’s not like they have any proof without any pictures, right?

The Harry’s eyes land on a photo of the man who tried to blow him in the toilets. In the picture the Mail has up, the man looks far more dignified than he had the night prior; every hair is neatly combed in place and a pair of sleek black framed glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose.

Harry has the sudden overwhelming urge to vomit when his eyes land on the caption underneath. This man, who Harry had let take his cock into his mouth, not only was spilling every sordid detail of their hookup to the Daily Mail. He was also their staff entertainment writer.

He’d known who Harry was the entire time.

Harry leans forward and vomits all over the floor next to his bed.

***

Louis wakes up to an empty bed the next morning. The spot next to him where Nick would normally be is cold, and Louis tries not to panic. Sure, he’d suffered a minor breakdown about his secret famous ex boyfriend the night prior, but Nick had seemed surprisingly okay with everything. Maybe he’d just been acting, waiting until Louis had fallen asleep to get away from him.

Oh god, Louis’ going to start crying again. At the sound of light footsteps outside the bedroom door, Louis forces himself to snap out of it. Just because he had to endure one particularly traumatic break up doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again.

Sure enough, the bedroom door pushes open gently a moment later to reveal Nick holding two steaming mugs of tea and a sheepish look when he sees that Louis’ awake.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Nick says quietly.

Louis gives him a sad smile. “You didn’t. I just couldn’t sleep anymore. My head still feels so full.”

Nick nods, gently setting the mugs down on the bedside table before crawling into bed next to Louis. “Have you had a chance to check the papers yet?”

Louis shakes his head, his eyes widening. “Why? What happened?”

Nick pulls out his tablet and passes it over. Louis skims the page, his heart beating frantically in his chest when he finally processes what’s in front of him.

“Oh fuck .”

Nick nods. “Yeah. It’s everywhere.”

Louis feels his eyes fill with tears. “That sodding idiot.”

Nick can see right past the anger Louis’ using to cover his guilt. “It’s not your fault, Lou.”

Louis can’t even meet his eyes. “But it is, though. He came to talk, and then he saw us and freaked out and did something stupid he’d never go through with normally.”

Nick rubs a hand up and down his back. “You’re right. He did do that. But you weren’t responsible for any of it. You’re allowed to have moved on, Lou. He doesn’t get to take that from you.”

Louis wipes away the tears gathering in his eyes. “I feel so bad for him. He got outed in the worst way possible. He was already upset, I can’t even imagine how he’s feeling right now.”

Nick pulls Louis into his chest. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to him. I know he hurt you really badly, but I also know you still care about him.”

Louis’ not really sure what to say to that, but in the end it doesn’t matter. His phone starts ringing on the bedside table.

Louis’ content to ignore it, but a twinge in his gut tells him he should at least check the caller ID on the slim chance that Harry has decided to try reaching out again. Unlikely, sure, but that’s what Louis would have said about him showing up on his doorstep the night prior too.

While it’s not Harry calling, Louis’ eyes widen when a familiar name pops up on his screen.

“Anne,” Nick reads over Louis’ shoulder. “You want me to tell them you’re not up to talking right now?”

Louis shakes his head. “I can’t. She’s Harry’s mum.” Louis scrambles up from the bed, his anxiety spiking. “I have to answer this.”

Nick nods, and with a supportive kiss on the top of the head, leaves the room to give Louis some privacy.

Louis takes a deep breath and answers.

***

It’s not until he’s actually standing on the doorstep of the place Harry’s hiding out at that he seriously starts to second guess his decision to come. After what had been a rather intense and heartfelt conversation with Harry’s mum (who he hadn’t spoken to since the break up), he’d finally given into her begging him to go see her son.

Anne told Louis she’d been calling him all morning to no avail, and she couldn’t make it down to London until the next day. Louis was the only one he had right now who really knew him. ‘ This is bigger than what happened between you two ,’ Anne had practically pleaded. In the end it had been a no brainer.

Surprisingly, finding Harry ends up being the biggest challenge. Louis doesn’t have his address (not that he’s likely to be home anyway what with the mob of journalists and paparazzi waiting for him outside) and the phone number Anne gave him just rings through to voicemail (his inbox is too full to even leave a message). Louis shoots him a vague, ‘call me’ text but doesn’t expect anything to come of it.

Instead he decides to try his luck with Zayn, who mercifully does seem to be answering his phone. He’s given the address of a small flat tucked away in the west end of the city. When Louis arrives, he’s not surprised no one’s found Harry yet. The peeling paint on the walls of the building and the general lack of anything interesting around leaves much to be desired.

It’s the perfect place for a celebrity to seek refuge in the middle of a media firestorm. Louis presses the buzzer and does his best to keep breathing in and out evenly.

A gorgeous woman with dark hair and eyes opens the door a moment later. She must be Zayn’s sister, the person the flat belongs to. She takes one look at Louis and gestures for him to head straight upstairs. He gives her an appreciative nod and makes his way up, the wooden steps creaking underneath his feet.

He’s not quite sure what he’s expecting to see once he’s made it upstairs. He panics at the thought of immediately being face to face with Harry. His fears are luckily unfounded, though, and as soon as he turns the corner he spots Zayn pacing around the floor of the main room.

Their eyes meet and Zayn shoots him a relieved smile.

“Thank you for coming,” he murmurs, his voice deliberately low. Louis bites the inside of his cheek.

“Didn’t really have a choice, did I? Thought Anne would skin me alive if I said no.”

It’s a testament to just how serious the situation is that Zayn doesn’t even react to Louis’ comment, his eyes serious.

“Things are … well, they’re awful. Harry hasn’t left the spare bedroom since after our meeting with management this morning.”

Louis feels his throat close up. “It went that badly?”

Zayn frowns. “They threatened to sue Harry personally for all of the lost future revenue this scandal will cause. They’re furious. Kept saying how he’d ruined everything and lost them thousands of dollars in studio hours. If, by some miracle, our album doesn’t tank and our fanbase doesn’t abandon us entirely, they’ll probably still threaten him with legal action just for breaking his image clause.”

Louis is fuming. “They’re blaming him for this? Isn’t it their job to stop these fucking reporters from letting these stories go to print in the first place? If anyone’s not earning their bloody paycheque, it’s them.”

Zayn sighs, shaking his head. “They say it was his responsibility to let them know he wasn’t straight so they could take preventative measures. They were just as blindsided as everyone else by this.”

“Fuck,” Louis scrubs a rough hand through his hair. “How’s he dealing with the whole being outed thing?”

Zayn shrugs. “He’s not. He begged me to find a place for him to hide but other than that hasn’t said a word in the past 12 hours. He just locked himself in the spare room and hasn’t come out since.”

Louis stares at the door of the room in question. It’s the second time in the past two days that he’s been within 15 feet of Harry but he’s never felt so far removed from him.

“Can I talk to him?”

Zayn shrugs again. “I mean, you can try. He’s a fucking wreck. I don’t even know if he’s sober in there.”

Louis feels his heart hammering in his chest. “Is the door locked?”

“It was the last few times we tried to talk to him. He might make an exception for you.”

Louis takes a deep, shuddering breath before blowing it out again.

“Fuck.”

Zayn cracks the first somewhat genuine smile of the day. “Listen, Don and I are going to go grab lunch so you two can have some privacy. I’ll text you when we’re on the way back.”

Louis nods and Zayn gives him a consoling pat on the shoulder. “He’s more scared of you right now than you are of him, just remember that.”

Louis closes his eyes, trying to draw on his non-existent reservoir of strength. He hears Zayn’s footsteps trudging down the stairs, and then the front door slamming a moment later.

Now he and Harry are truly alone in the same space for the first time in a year.

Louis takes a deep breath, feeling oddly hollow in the empty flat. He stares at the locked door in front of him, trying to psych himself up to take the three steps forward and knock.

He can’t find the courage to knock right off the bat so he chooses to try the handle just once to be sure it is still locked like Zayn had said. To his surprise, the handle turns in his grip rather easily. The door starts to swing open and Louis has no choice but to follow through. He steps inside.

The room is silent, stuffy, and dark. Heavy curtains are pulled over the windows, blocking out the light and the sounds of the city. The only sign of life is the body shaped lump curled up on the bed, covered by a duvet.

Louis just stares at Harry’s sleeping figure before creeping closer. Harry’s chest rises shallowly with every breath he takes, and while it’s obvious he’s asleep, it doesn’t look very restful. His face is pinched even in slumber, and Louis can faintly make out the lavender bags under his eyes. Even in his sleep, Harry radiates sorrow and sadness.

He can’t do this. He doesn't know why he thought he’d be up to this, or why he’d agreed to come in the first place. It’s been a year. A fucking year! Zayn clearly knows Harry better than him now, is obviously much better suited to handling this.

Louis starts to back out of the room, intending to sneak out and make it so Harry never knew he’d been there in the first place, but as he makes his way towards the door he trips over part of the blanket trailing on the floor and accidentally stumbles into the door, causing it to slam shut. Loudly.

Louis’ plan of sneaking out is clearly shot to hell as Harry jerks up abruptly from his nest of blankets, his eyes immediately darting to the door. They widen in shock as he Harry realizes who’s in the room with him.

The room is uncomfortably silent for a long second, both of them just staring at each other, before Louis summons up the courage to talk.

“Your mum asked me to come,” is what he ends up starting with. Harry’s face falls imperceptibly but he doesn’t say anything in response.

“She’s worried about you, says you’ve been ignoring her calls.” Louis continues, hoping to evoke some sort of reaction. Still Harry says nothing. Louis tries not to let his irritation show.

“I told her it’d be a bad idea. We’ve not spoken in a year, after all, but she said I was the only one she trusted to come see you. Begged me to.”

Harry’s eyes drop to the duvet and he still hasn’t said a single word. Louis just stares at him, daring him to say something, do something. The only sound in the room is both of their breathing.

“I didn’t tell her this of course, but a small part of me was relieved.” At this, Harry’s head shoots up and his eyes bore into Louis’ with laser precision.

“Fuck you,” he growls, his gaze sharp and his entire expression cold.

Louis raises an eyebrow and moves a bit closer to the bed. “I’m not done.”

Harry’s whole body tenses on the bed. “Get out.”

Louis shakes his head, taking another step forward. “No, not until you let me finish my thought. When I say I was glad, that’s not me being petty, or cruel or whatever horrible things you might be thinking right now. Instead it was relief. I saw how unhappy you were, living this double life, lying about yourself to everyone. I thought, naively, maybe now he can finally be free and find whatever peace he couldn’t before.”

Harry curls inward at Louis’ words, as if they’re knives cutting into him from the inside. Louis’ directly next to the end of the bed now, and he wraps his hand around the frame.

“I am so sorry this happened to you, Harry. I’m sorry your trust was betrayed, I’m sorry you were outed without consent, and more than anything I’m sorry you felt you had to hide who you really are for so long. I would never wish what happened to you on anyone. I can’t even imagine how much pain you must be in right now.”

Harry takes a shallow breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Louis sighs. “You never do.”

Harry looks up at him, green meeting blue. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Louis shrugs. “It means you never want to have an actual conversation about anything that’s bothering you. You’d rather make rash decisions controlled by fear than talk about your feelings.”

Harry glares at him, his eyes fierce. “That’s rich coming from someone who’s just as publicly closeted as I am.” His gaze drops. “ Was .”

Louis’ expression grows cold but he refuses to take the bait. “Nope, you don’t get to turn this around on me. We’re talking about you.”

“I don’t want to talk about me. I don’t want to talk about any of this! Why are you even here?”

Louis tries not to let it show how much that hurts. “I wanted to help.”

Harry laughs harshly. “Oh yeah? You’re doing a piss poor job then. I don’t want you here, Louis. Go back to your boyfriend and let my actual friends help me deal with this.”

And wow, that’s a low blow. “Your actual friends? Thanks. Need I remind you that I’m not the one who totally cut you out of my life?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Still on that are you? It was a year ago, Louis.” Louis’ heart is aching, and while he does his best not to let it show he can see the moment Harry sees the immense hurt in his eyes.

“Why are you even bringing this up? I know you’ve moved on already.” Harry bites out, and Louis can hear the tiniest bit of uncertainty in Harry’s voice.

“I have.” he agrees, watching his ex-boyfriend’s eyes drop to the floor again. “That doesn’t mean I still don’t care about you.”

“Why?”

Louis scrubs a hand over his face, already exhausted by this conversation. “Because, you colossal moron, I was in love with you for a long time. You don’t just get over that.”

Harry’s eyes shut, but Louis can see a tear escape as Harry frantically wipes at his face.

“Is that what this is about?” Louis asks, finally feeling like he can see past Harry’s walls. “Are you mad that I’ve made my own life without you?”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but Louis can see his hands shaking.

“You’re the one who ended things with me, Harry. You’re the one who cut me out of your life and made damn sure we’d never even be friends again after. You don’t get to be upset that I’ve found someone else!”

“It wasn’t supposed to be permanent!” Harry screams back at him, and it’s the first time he’s fully let himself go. “It was just supposed to be for a little while, so we actually had a chance at making it onto the show. You were supposed to be there with me so we could audition together.”

Louis stares at him. “You told me you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

Harry sighs shakily. “I didn’t want us being together to ruin our chances of making it on the show. That didn’t mean I wanted to cut you out of my life! That didn’t mean I ever stopped loving you!"

“You auditioned without me,” Louis says, his voice disbelieving. “How the fuck can you stand there and hurl all this shit at me when you literally left me behind to go audition for the show we’d been dreaming of being on together?”

“What was I supposed to do, Louis? You refused to audition with me unless we were honest about being a couple. I knew we never would have made it past the first auditions. You left me no other choice; it was either audition alone or not audition at all.”

Louis feels his own eyes start to fill with tears. “You chose a fucking reality show over our relationship. If you still don’t see that you made the wrong choice than I don’t think there’s any reason for me to waste another second here.”

And just like that, Louis leaves the room, slamming the door behind him and racing out of the flat before Harry can stop him.

Not that Harry bothers.

***

Harry regrets pretty much every word that’s come out of his mouth within ten seconds of Louis storming out of the flat. Of course, by the time he pulls himself together enough to realize that he should probably go after him, Louis’ already long gone. He’s not even sure what he’d say to try and fix things. Maybe they are just too different, too broken now to ever be fixed.

Harry gets up and watches Louis’ tense figure rapidly retreat out the window. He could probably catch up to him if he really wanted to, could explain things better, but is it really worth it? The damage is done. It’s a miracle Louis had come to see him in the first place, after everything that’s happened. He’s not likely to reach out to Harry again. It seems things between them may finally be irreversibly severed.

Truly, it’s been a spectacularly fucked up 48 hours.

Harry’s phone buzzes next to him on the bedside table, and for the first time since their meeting with management that morning, Harry glances at it. The battery’s nearly dead on account of him not charging it in far too long, but he can still see that he appears to have nearly 40 missed calls and 96 texts messages.

The most recent one is from Zayn and just contains a single question mark. Harry ignores it and returns to his pity party, burying himself underneath his mountain of blankets.

He somehow manages to fall back into a light sleep, because the next thing he’s aware of is Zayn shaking him awake, a concerned look on his face.

Harry squints at him. “What?”

Zayn stares at him impatiently. “Well? How’d it go?”

Harry sighs and burrows back into the blankets without answering.

“That badly?” Zayn genuinely seems stunned, as if he truly thought that forcing him and Louis in a room together would solve all of the deep seated issues fracturing their relationship.

“I don’t think he’s going to try again, Zayn. I think whatever tiny thread was still holding us together even after all this time has finally snapped.”

Zayn’s eyebrows pull together. “What happened?”

“We had the same fight we had the night we broke up.”

Zayn sits down on the bed next to him. “I still don’t know what happened between you two, not really. You’ve never elaborated and I get the impression Louis hasn’t really told anyone.”

Harry lets out a long breath. “Louis was supposed to audition for Battle of the Bands too. We’d been planning to try out as a duo, we’d planning it for months. Louis wanted us to present ourselves as a couple. I told him we’d never get past the audition stage.”

Zayn’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t say anything, letting Harry continue.

“Louis was far too idealistic, he thought people would embrace us, but I knew it was bullshit. I’d spent hours reading comments on indie magazines and YouTube videos. Do you seriously think anyone would have taken the Beatles seriously if John and Paul had been snogging up on stage?”

Zayn gives him a long, considering look. “Do you still believe that?”

And suddenly Harry’s not sure what to say. If you’d asked him this a year ago, hell even just a few months ago, he would have said yes without a doubt. Just the mere fact that he’s made it as far as he has by pretending to be straight is proof of that.

But on the other hand, he can’t really claim to know it wouldn’t have worked the other way either. After all, he never actually tried being open about his sexuality and his relationship with Louis. Sure, chances are it would be significantly harder and he’d have fallen flat on his face, but he also knows he’d have been much happier. And he wouldn’t be alone.

Not like he is now. To be honest, he’d never known a loneliness quite as deep and pervasive as the one that comes from alienating the one person in your life who knows the real you and pretending to be someone else in front of everyone else.

“I don’t know. Maybe not the same way I did before. It’s undeniable that things would have been so much harder had we just been open from the start, but I think we’d also be so much happier. I’d be so much happier.”

Harry looks down at his hands. “All I did was yell at him and rehash the same argument we had when we broke up, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was angry and I took it out on him by saying the things I knew would cut him deepest.” He glances up at Zayn, expecting to see condemnation and judgement but all he sees is compassion.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Harry doesn’t know. Yes, he could go talk to Louis and explain but that doesn’t feel like enough, not after everything he’s put him through over the past year.

“If it were as simple as apologizing I’d do that, but I know that’s not enough. The way he looked at me, Zayn. I’ve never seen him so hurt. Just saying ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Zayn hums. “No, but it’s a good start. Okay, pretend I’m Louis - tell me the real reason why you auditioned without me, without bullshitting or excuses.”

“Because I was scared.”

Zayn looks at him to elaborate and Harry sighs.

“Maybe I just couldn’t admit it to myself until recently, but I resented being gay because I thought it would stand in the way of being able to be a successful rock artist. Things have changed, I know, but you can’t deny that the music market and audiences as a whole are still incredibly homophobic. It’s different, you know, if you come out once you’re already famous - but being out and trying to build a name for yourself? It’s impossible. And I hated that something as stupid as who I was attracted to could stop me from going after my dreams.”

“So what changed?”

Harry closes his eyes. “I did, I guess. I still think what I said was true, at least to a degree, but I realized having Louis by my side and being able to share this with him is far more important than doing it by myself and hiding away the most important parts of myself. I ‘made’ it, but does it matter if the image of myself everyone seems to love is just an illusion?”

“Do you regret what happened between you and Louis?”

Harry plays with the ring on his finger and nods. “Every day.”

Zayn nods. “So tell him that.”

“He’s not going to talk to me. Not after how badly things went earlier.”

Zayn frowns. “Okay, this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to text him and tell him to meet up with me. Only it’ll be you there, not me, and - ”

Harry cuts him off. “No. No more lies, no more deception. I don’t want to force Louis to talk to me using false pretences. I want him to talk to me because he wants to. I need to find a way to show him I’m serious without putting him on the spot.”

“What’s your ultimate goal, here? Do you just want to make amends or do you want him back?”

Harry gives him a sad smile. “I love him. I’ve never stopped. Is that enough of an answer for you?”

Zayn nods, a smile growing on his face. “In that case, I think what you need is a grand gesture.”

***

By the time Louis makes it back his flat, he’s achieved the level of emotional numbness that normally comes only after drinking excessive amounts of alcohol.

He pushes the door open, closes it gently but firmly behind him, heads straight to the bathroom, and after taking his time stripping off all his clothes, stands underneath the scalding hot water, not even flinching when it burns his skin.

Nick finds him that way 15 minutes later.

“Louis?”

Louis can’t be bothered to respond. The only feelings he’s capable of processing right now is the heat of the water. He looks down to see his skin is streaked an ugly mottled red.

“Babe?” Nick’s voice is closer this time, and a moment later, there’s a hesitant knock on the bathroom door.

When Louis still doesn’t answer, Nick pushes it open gently.

“Lou, are you okay?”

No, he’s not okay. Not even a little bit. And for whatever reason, it’s the sound of Nick’s voice coupled with the fact that he actually sounds like he cares that breaks him.

He closes his eyes and tilts his face up towards the shower head, crying as quietly as he can so his boyfriend won’t hear him.

The shower curtain pulls aside a moment later, revealing a very concerned looking Nick.

“God, Louis I was worried you’d hurt yourself or something.”

Louis lets out a shuddering sob that’s clearly been building up and Nick’s eyes widen. He reaches into the shower and turns off the water, wincing when the burning stream hits his skin. Once the water’s off, he pulls Louis towards him, not caring that his clothes are getting soaked too.

He helps him out of the shower, wrapping a thick fluffy towel around him and then pulling him into a full body hug.

“Oh darling,” he murmurs, letting Louis sob against him.

Eventually, they make it to the bedroom and Nick pulls out the softest trackies and hoodie Louis owns.

Once he’s all dressed and tucked into bed, the real conversation begins.

“Don’t feel like you have to talk about it now if you don’t want to,” Nick begins, but Louis cuts him off.

“No, if I don’t talk about it now I never will.”

Nick nods understandingly. “So what happened?”

Louis picks at a loose thread on the duvet. “Harry made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t regret choosing his career over me. Even after a year, even after being miserable and locked into an iron closet. He’d still choose them.”

Nick lets out a pained sigh. “Fuck him.”

Louis shrugs. “At least he was being honest. I’d thought … I don’t know what I’d thought. Maybe there’d still be a friendship to salvage in all of the wreckage? But no, once again I leave with my heart broken while he carries on like everything’s fine.”

Nick gently rubs a hand up and down Louis’ back. “He’s wrong, you know? He’s so so wrong. Wanting to be open about who you love and who you are is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Louis lets out a shuddering sigh. “About that. He might have been saying it out of spite, but Harry actually made a valid point. The general public still thinks I’m straight and with Eleanor.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’ve ever confirmed anything.  Straight celebrities are just as likely to insinuate they’re in fake relationships to sell a product. It’s all been for PR!”

Louis gives him tiny smile. “Thanks for defending my honour, but I think he might be right. I don’t want to lie by omission anymore.”

Nick looks at him with wide eyes. “You want to come out?”

Louis bites his lip. “At some point soon, yes. But I think I’d rather start by just setting the record straight that I’m not actually dating Eleanor. Pun intended.”

Nick nods. “I think that’s a brilliant idea, love.”

***

“I want to come out.”

The room is so silent you could hear a pin drop. Harry’s manager Richard raises an eyebrow. “I think it’s a little late for that, don’t you?”

After two whole days spent avoiding his management team and refusing to answer his phone, Harry finally agreed to come in for a meeting. He’d asked for the rest of the boys to be present but they hadn’t been allowed into the room. It was just Harry and a team of intimidating men and women in expensive suits.

“That’s not what I mean. I was outed. Both my choice and control over the situation were stolen from me. I want to take them back.” Harry feels his heart hammer in his chest but he pushes forward anyway, knowing how vitally important this is to him.

“So you want to come out again even though the public already knows you’re gay?” Someone in the back corner of the room lets out a half-hearted laugh but overall there’s nothing but enduring silence.

“Well that’s just it - they don’t know I’m gay. They probably suspect I’m gay, but I could be a multitude of things, bi, pan, the list goes on.”

“But you are gay.” Richard says, impatience and exhaustion radiating out of his tone.

“The public doesn’t know that because I haven’t said anything about it yet. That’s what I want. The chance to speak openly and candidly about what happened. I want to tell my side of the story."

Richard sighs. “So what you really want is a coming out interview.”

Harry nods. “Yes. With the outlet and interviewer of my choosing.”

A woman in the back speaks up. “I think Dan Wootton at the Sun is a perfectly adequate option.”

Harry feels a wave of rage roll over him. “No. We’re doing this my way or not at all.”

“You have absolutely no grounds to be making ultimatums with us. We own you.”

Harry shakes his head. “I might have been afraid of you before, but the worst has already happened to me. I was forced out of the closet in the most embarrassing and shameful way possible and I survived it. I refuse to let you intimidate me. This is too important.”

Richard narrows his eyes. “The more difficult you make this, the easier it is for us to ruin what’s left of your career.”

Harry pushes back the wave of nausea and hatred that bubbles below the surface and forces himself to meet the man’s eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

There’s a tense moment of loaded silence before Richard finally relents.

“Fine. Have it your way. We’ll need the name of the publication and interviewer by the end of the day.”

Harry lets out a discreet sigh of relief.

“I can tell you who I want to do the interview right now - Nick Grimshaw .”

***

Louis’ in the middle of heating up some leftovers when his mobile rings. He checks the call display, sees Nick’s number, and picks up instantly.

“Everything okay?” Not that he doesn’t love getting calls from his boyfriend, but it is unusual for him to call when he’s supposed to be in the middle of a team meeting.

“Um, sort of? I think? I don’t know.” Nick sounds flustered, which again, while not unusual in certain other scenarios, is definitely raising some red flags for Louis right now.

“What’s happening?”

He can hear Nick take a deep breath on the other end. “Word on the street is Harry Styles is doing a proper coming out interview.”

Louis feels his heart stutter in his chest. “Is that why you called? To give me a heads up?”

“Not exactly.” Nick pauses. “He wants me to do the coming out interview.”

Louis nearly drops the phone.

“He what ?”

“Yeah, one of the BBC heads called me in this morning. Apparently his team put in a special request for me.”

Louis is silent on the other end, just trying to process what Nick said. What it means.

“Lou?”

And oh, right, they’re on the phone where Nick can’t actually see him.

“I’m still here.”

“I said no.” Nick says, his voice quiet but firm. Louis lets a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Did you turn it down for me?”

Nick sighs. “Yes.”  He pauses to collect his thoughts. “But I also turned it down for me. Because as much of an amazing opportunity as that interview would have been for my career, it didn’t feel right. He’s probably going to talk about you, or at least allude to you without getting specific, and I don’t think I could just sit there objectively when he talks about breaking your heart.”

Louis closes his eyes in relief. “Thank you.”

“I passed it along to Greg James instead. If Harry’s okay with it, that is.”

“Yeah, Greg’ll be a great fit.” Louis responds, but his brain’s on autopilot. “When is the interview taking place?”

“In two days. They’ve altered the programming schedule to get it out during primetime as quickly as possible.”

“So they’re televising it?”

“Seems that way, yeah. Makes sense really. Seeing Harry rather than just hearing him will probably boost the public’s sympathy.”

Louis runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course, love. I’ll be home soon.” Nick says, as if sensing how much Louis doesn’t want to deal with this information alone.

They hang up, and all Louis can think about is crawling back under his covers.

***

By the time the day of the interview arrives, Louis feels slightly less manic and more at peace with whatever’s going to happen. As much as he might wish elsewise, he’s finally accepted that he has no control over the situation. Whatever’s going to happen will happen. He can only hope Harry will be diplomatic enough to not to say anything too disparaging about their relationship.

Not that anyone’s going to know who he’s talking about anyway. Much as he might hate him sometimes, Louis knows Harry would never be cruel or callous enough to out him. He also knows that Nick would never let anything like that go to air. The interview had been recorded earlier that morning but is only being broadcast at 6pm that evening once everyone’s home from school and work.

Louis and Nick sit pressed together on the couch, Nick’s thumb rubbing comforting circles into Louis’ thigh. Louis does his best to stay relaxed as the BBC logo pops up onscreen right as the broadcast starts.

***

“Harry, you’re sure you want to do this?” Other than getting to choose the interviewer (or the backup interviewer, rather), Harry’s only request had been to bring along four other people to form his behind the scenes support group - Niall, Zayn, Liam, and his sister Gemma.

Speaking of which, Harry’s not sure where Zayn, Liam, and Niall have gone off to because Gemma’s the only one beside him, her arm around his shoulder.

“Yeah. I kind of have to, don’t I?”

Gemma shakes her head, her eyes fierce. “No, you don’t. You don’t owe them anything. Coming out, talking about your sexuality - especially after what that tabloid arsehole did you - is an incredibly sensitive and private subject.”

“I need to do this. I owe it to Louis. Fuck, I owe it to myself. I’m tired of hiding.”

Gemma must see the honesty in his gaze. She pulls him into a tight hug. “Okay then. As long as you’re doing this for you.” She pauses. “Wait a tic - why am I the only one here right now?”

She looks around the room, her eyebrows furrowing. “Where’s the rest of your support group gone off to, then?”

Before Harry can answer, Niall, Zayn and Liam appear carrying something in a bright pink cardboard box.

“We’ll get in shit for givin’ this to ya before you’re about to go on air, but …” Niall smirks as Zayn leans forward and pulls open the lid. Inside is a magnificent looking cake with rainbow frosting and a heart made of red icing in the centre. “I know this is scary, and I hope you realize that we’re all so proud of you for it.”

Harry can feel his eyes well up without his permission and he rushes to wipe away the budding tears. “Thank you.” He stands up and gingerly takes the cake box, staring down at the gaudy baked good with love in his eyes before setting it down on the table next to him.

“I couldn’t have asked for better bandmates.” At Gemma’s eyebrow raise, he quickly tacks on, “Or a better sister, obviously.”

Gemma rolls her eyes but allows him to pull her into a group hug with the other boys. Harry’s heart feels the lightest it has in a very long time.

Fuck. He’s doing this. He’s seriously doing this.

He takes a deep breath and lets himself think about Louis. He hopes he’ll make him proud.

***

The interview starts much like any other BBC exclusive. Louis’ practically chewed all of his nails off and is left biting on the stubs still left on his fingers. Nick, mercifully, doesn’t comment.

After a brief title sequence plays introducing Harry, his career, and the scandal that finally led him to doing a coming out interview, the camera cuts to Greg James sitting across from an already seated Harry Styles.

Louis thinks he might flatline.

“So Harry, while I’m delighted to finally get a chance to talk with you, the reasons for this interview aren’t exactly the most pleasant.”

Harry laughs, but it’s got a bitter tinge. “No, I can’t say I much enjoyed being forcibly outed by a tabloid but I guess this means I’ve finally made it.”

Greg seems unsure whether or not it’s okay to laugh so he settles for an amused grimace. “So why don’t you tell us your side of what happened.”

Louis’ heart hammers away in his chest. He can feel Nick’s hold on arm tighten in support.

Harry looks down. “Without getting into details, let’s just say I found out that someone I once hurt very badly has moved on and it made me jealous. So I acted without thinking. I went to the closest gay club I knew, danced a bit, picked up a bloke because I needed to prove to myself that I still could, and then … yeah, found out the next morning he worked for the Daily Mail.”

Greg frowns. “Are you thinking of taking legal action?”

Harry sighs. “Not sure there’s much I can do. It’s not like I made him sign an NDA before, you know. Besides, the damage is already done.”

Greg leans forward in his chair, staring intently at Harry. “So what’s the real reason behind the interview today, Harry?” Greg looks back and addresses the camera. “For those at home, Harry reached out to us personally.”

Harry shrugs. “Well, I think mainly I just wanted the chance to speak for myself for once. Ever since I auditioned for Battle of the Bands, it’s felt like a vital part of me is missing. Every word and public appearance is scripted and monitored and I just .. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be the one who gets to make my own decisions.” Harry looks at the ground. “Even if they’re terrible decisions.”

Greg bites his lip. “Can I ask about the person you mentioned before? The person you said you’d hurt very badly.”

Harry looks up, his eyes wide. Louis can see the fear hiding behind them. “Yeah. I mean, I guess that’s really the reason I’m here, isn’t it? To speak up. To explain.”

Harry sighs, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I was one of those lucky idiots who finds the love of their life when they’re just a teenager. My boyfriend at the time and I had pretty much grown up together, and I can’t remember a time I wasn’t absolutely in love with him. It was as natural as breathing.” He pauses. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s why it was so easy for me to hurt him the way I did. Because what we’d had was always there and I’d started to take it for granted without realizing.”

“What you did?” Greg prompts, looking distinctly uncomfortable to be prying like this but also aware that he has to do his job.

For his part, Harry doesn’t look too bothered. “We were supposed to audition for Battle of the Bands together, my boyfriend and I. But I chickened out at the last minute. Was convinced we’d never make it through the first round if we went on the show as a gay couple.”

“Do you still think that?”

Harry plays with one of his rings. Louis’ pretty much stopped breathing entirely at this point, bracing himself for Harry’s answer.

“Yes and no.” Harry pauses. Louis still hasn’t taken a breath. “After having experienced the audition process firsthand, I feel pretty confident in saying that it’s unlikely he and I would have made it onto the show had we been honest about our relationship.”

Louis’ chest feels like it’s full of nails. He can feel Nick’s eyes boring into the side of his head but he can’t tear his eyes away from Harry’s onscreen.

“But I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter. Yes, as much progress as we’ve made there’s still a huge heteronormative bias in media. And there are still plenty of homophobic higher ups working behind the scenes. But I should have believed in us. I should have let us try. Because even if we didn’t make it, at least we still would have had each other.” Harry’s eyes are wet now. “I still would have had a wonderful, amazing boy to go home with after our failed auditions. I would have been upset, but at least I still would have been true to myself. No amount of fame is worth the pain of locking who you are away to make money for other people.”

“Do you regret auditioning that day?”

Harry takes a deep breath. “I regret breaking the heart of the only boy who’s ever truly known me and loved me in spite of everything. Everything else is just white noise.”

Even Greg looks visibly moved. “If you could say anything to him, assuming he’s watching right now, what would it be?”

Harry bites the inside of his cheek. “I’d tell him that I’m sorry. And that I know this isn’t nearly enough to earn his forgiveness but that I hope it’s a start.” He pauses. “I’d also tell him that I love him, and that I never stopped, and that I truly hope he’s happy now because he deserves the best, and I know that’s not me. Not anymore.” Harry looks pained getting those final words out, but the honesty rings true in them. For the first time in a very long time, he’s finally been honest both with himself and with Louis.

Louis’ not sure whether the television set separating them is a blessing or a curse.

There’s a moment of silence before Greg asks the next question, something a little more lighthearted about his memories of being on the Battle of the Bands. Louis barely takes in a word of it, Harry’s words playing on a loop in his brain.

He still doesn’t understand why Harry’s suddenly saying this now, after all the horrible things they said to each other before. What’s changed his mind?

Louis doesn’t even notice when the interview officially ends after a few more softball questions about being in the band and his friendships with the boys. It’s not until Nick turns the TV off and the room is suddenly plunged into silence that Louis snaps out of it.

He turns to see Nick watching him intently.

“So that was … something,” Nick says.

Louis nods, not ready to talk about in depth, not just yet. He’s not even sure what he’d say, his thoughts still a jumbled mess inside his head.

“Lou, are you okay?” Nick finally asks, and the concern etched on his face is touching. Louis shakes his head.

“It’s over,” he gasps, the realization finally hitting him. “It’s really over.”

Nick doesn’t say anything, but his eyebrows pull together as he frowns.

“What’s over, love?”

Louis rubs at his eyes. “Me and Harry. Like, I know that it was technically over before, but it always felt so unfinished. Like we were hanging in some kind of suspended animation. He broke my heart and he just left and it always felt unresolved. Not now, though. Now it’s really and truly over. He just made sure of it.”

Nick’s tone is even but Louis can hear the traces of hurt seeping into it. “He just went on national television with the sole intention of apologizing to you. Why are you upset?”

“Because there’s no chance now, is there? Of even being friends? He basically just implied he’s going to remove himself from my life.”

Nick’s voice rises, incredulous. “What, like he’s been such a big part of your life up til now? Louis, all he’s done is hurt you. Why would you even want any kind of relationship with him?”

“Because I still love him!” Louis exclaims without thinking.

Nick looks like he’s been punched.

“What?”

Well, too late to take it back now. “I don’t know if I’m still in love with him like how I used to be, but there will always be a part of me that cares about him. You didn’t know him before all this. He was my best friend for so many years, even before we were together. That doesn’t just go away. Those feelings are still there, no matter how hard I’ve fought to get rid of them.”

“So you’re saying that even after everything he’s done to you, you’re willing to just forgive him.”

“No. I’m not anywhere near being able to forgive him. But I can’t pretend that he doesn’t mean anything to me, because that’s not fair to me, and that’s not fair to you.”

Nick takes a deep breath, his expression pained. “I think maybe we should consider breaking up.”

Now it’s Louis’ turn to be blindsided. “You can’t be serious. Nick, what the fuck ?”

“You obviously still have very strong, very deep feelings for Harry that I can’t even pretend to understand - ”

Louis cuts him off “So don’t! I’m not asking you to understand, I’m not asking you for anything actually!”

Nick sighs. “You’re asking me to stay with you even though you might still be in love with your ex-boyfriend.”

Louis glares at him. “We were fine this morning. We were fine this whole past week, even after all of this shit started with Harry. Why is it suddenly an issue now?”

Nick’s eyes latch on to Louis’. “Because I saw how you looked at him just now. You may not know if you’re still in love with him or not, but I think the answer’s pretty clear. In fact, I know it is.”

He stares at his hands, looking almost embarrassed to say the next bit. “You’ve never looked at me like that.”

Louis is several shades past pissed off now. “That is not fair. I’ve only know you for a few months. I’ve known Harry my whole life.”

Nick looks profoundly sad. “Louis, it’s not a criticism, it’s just a fact. I know you’re attracted to me, and I know you enjoy spending time with me, but I don’t know that you’ll ever be able to love me. Not that way you love him.”

Louis can feel the tears coming on all over again. “Why do I feel like you’re giving me an ultimatum?”

Nick shakes his head. “I’m not, I promise. There’s nothing for you to choose between. I’m making the choice.”

“So I don’t get a say in this at all?” Louis demands, outraged.

“I have to protect myself, don’t you get that? This isn’t about you, this about me, and the fact that I’m pretty sure I already love you more than anyone else I’ve ever been with. This already hurts me so much to do, Louis, but I just know that dragging it out is only going to hurt us more. I don’t want to cut you out of my life, but I don’t want to lie to myself either.”

“So that’s it, then. We’re over. End of relationship.” Louis’ tone is acidic.

“I’m sorry.”

Louis rolls his eyes and stands up. “Fine.”

“Where are you going?”

Louis pulls on a jacket and throws his wallet, phone, and keys into his pocket. “To me mum’s house. You can let yourself out. Or not. Do whatever it is a ex-boyfriend’s do, clearly you know more about that than I do.”

“Louis I’m not doing this to hurt you!” Nick calls after him.

Louis slams the door behind him in lieu of responding.

***

Jay just has to take one look at her son’s face to know that this isn’t going to be a happy visit. Before Louis can even say anything, Jay’s pulled him into a tight hug, his face hiding in her neck.

“Mum,” he starts saying, but can’t even figure out how to finish the sentence. The word just hangs in the air.

“Is this about the interview?” She asks once she’s finally pulled away, her voice soft. And yes, of course she’d heard about Harry Styles’ coming out interview. The entire bloody nation probably had the damn thing recorded to watch again later with the whole family gathered round.

Louis shakes his head. “Not just that. It’s … everything. Everything is too much and I just need a break.”

Jay squeezes his shoulder. “You know your room’s always made up for you. You’re welcome to hide away here as long as you need, Boo.”

Louis leans into her touch. “Thank you.”

Jay presses a kiss to his forehead. “Always.”

***

Harry makes the trek over to Louis’ flat for the second time the morning after his interview airs. It’s strange, going from not having spoken to him in a year to randomly showing up at his new place in London twice within the same week, but Harry supposes strange doesn’t even begin to describe his life as it currently stands.

He hesitates outside the front door, his hand hovering over the bell, when the door suddenly swings open inwards. Harry takes a startled step backwards, his eyes going wide as he’s suddenly face to face with a very tired looking Nick Grimshaw.

They just stare at each other for a long moment, and Harry’s not sure what to expect from Nick. Will he yell at him? Refuse to let him in? He’d come to talk to Louis, hadn’t even really factored Louis’ boyfriend into the equation at all (a decision he’s sorely regretting now) and all he can do is brace himself for whatever reaction is coming.

After a long moment of tense silence, Nick finally speaks. “He’s not here.”

“What?”

“Louis,” Nick clarifies. “He’s gone home to stay with his mum.”

Harry’s not quite sure what to do with that information. At least Nick hasn’t chucked him off the property yet.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

Nick shrugs. “Not sure. But I probably won’t be here.”

Harry’s eyebrows pull together. “What do you mean?”

Nick gestures behind him, inside the house, where Harry can see stacks of cardboard boxes scattered around the foyer. “Not much sense in living in my ex boyfriend’s house by myself is there?”

“You broke up?”

The purple of the skin under Nick’s eyes is especially visible as he rolls his eyes. “No need to rub it in.”

“I’m not.”

Nick surveys him for a long moment. “You’re serious.”

Harry sighs. “When I said in that interview that I think he’s better off with you, I meant it. I guess I just don’t understand what happened. Why’d you break up?”

Nick leans against the doorway, looking down at his feet. “It wasn’t working anymore.”

“But you love him.” Harry states.

Nick keeps staring at the ground. “Yeah, I love him. It’s not enough, though. Not when he still loves you.”

Harry gapes at him. “He said that?”

“He did, but honestly it’s not like I didn’t already know. He’s still mad at you, and fuck you can’t blame him for that, but he loves you anyway. Can’t say I understand, but that hardly matters.”

Harry feels like he can’t breathe. “So what, he watched my interview with Greg and then broke up with you right after?”

Nick snorts. “This isn’t a Nicholas Sparks movie, so no. I broke up with him.”

“Why’d you do it? You were happy together. Wasn’t that enough for you?”

Nick gives him a pointed look. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Harry’s cheeks flame with embarrassment. Nick keeps talking. “I had to protect myself. He cares about me a lot, I know that, but he’s not in love with me, and the deeper I get myself into this, the more it would’ve hurt when he’d eventually realized he couldn’t be with me.”

Nick’s stare is pointed. “I was protecting myself, yes, but I was protecting Louis too. He would have felt so guilty and probably would have stayed with me even though his heart wasn’t really in it. That’s not the relationship I want. I need to know the person I’m in love with loves me back just as much.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say other than he feels awful. “I’m so sorry.”

Nick looks surprised. “Why? it’s not your fault. We just weren’t compatible. Though I guess the bit where’s he’s still hung up on you even after you treated him like shite is partially your fault.”

Harry doesn’t even bother trying to defend himself. He knows Nick is hurting, and besides, it’s not like he’s wrong.

“I’m sorry for my part in it.”

Nick looks at him in surprise. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to Louis instead of me?”

“I’ll tell him too. But I feel like I owe you an apology as well.”

Nick eyes him for a long moment before nodding. “Thank you, I guess.”

He looks at bit like a deflated balloon. Harry takes that as his cue to leave. But not before clarifying something.

“He’s at his mum’s, you said?”

Nick gives him a suspicious look. “If I find out you’ve done or said anything to make this worse for Louis, I’ll publicly shame you on Radio 1.”

Harry can’t help but laugh at that, but his voice is sincere when he responds. “I just want to make things right with him again. To make sure he knows how sorry I am. I’m not expecting anything from him other than hopefully just for him to listen.”

Nick nods. “He’s special, you know? He cares so much about people and I hate knowing that he’s hurting right now and that it’s my fault.”

Harry sighs. “If Louis never wants to talk to me again after this, that’s fine. Honestly, all I care about is making things right again. Whatever he wants comes first.”

Nick looks like he’s considering something seriously. He seems to come to a decision and gives Harry a very pointed look. “The way I ended things with him. It was blunt, and it was cruel, and I hope that one day he can forgive me but I needed him to know there were no chance of us getting back together again. I did it to protect him just as much as I did myself.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asks, genuinely curious.

“Because I don’t know if he’ll ever want to speak to me again either, but I need him to know that I said what I said for a reason. I knew that it had to be a clean break. I couldn’t drag it out, let us keep lying to each other.”

Nick sighs. “Look, I don’t expect you to clean up my mess on top of your own, but if Louis does bring it up, can you tell him I’m sorry for how everything happened?”

Harry nods. “I can do that.”

Nick gives him a small smile before glancing at his watch. “If you leave now you should make it there by dinner time.”

“Thank you.” Harry says, and he truly does feel awful for how his actions one year ago have spiralled so far out of control they’ve inadvertently caused Nick’s heartbreak too.

“Make sure he knows how important he is, yeah?”

Harry smiles. “I promise.”

***

“You’re sure you’ll be alright?”

Louis sighs, but he’s doing it to be dramatic more than anything.

“You know, mum, contrary to popular opinion I’m not actually 5 years old.”

Jay laughs. “I know that, love, but you’re also going through a tough time and I wouldn’t blame you if babysitting wasn’t at the top of your priority list.”

Louis smiles. “The twins are already asleep, there’s not much to do here anyway besides making sure the door’s locked before I go to bed.”

“Well alright then. Just promise me you’ll call if there’s anything.”

Louis stands up and pulls his mum into a hug. “Go. Enjoy your night out. God knows you and Dan deserve a break.”

Jay grins, her eyes sparkling. “It’s so nice to have you home again, Boo. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

It’s not until Jay and Dan have already pulled out of the driveway that Louis realizes he has no idea how he’s going to spend his first night alone (well, minus the sleeping twins). It’s been awhile since he’s had a Netflix night watching all the crap telly no one else will put up with (not even Nick … he forces his brain to stop there. That is not an emotional road he wants to travel down tonight).

He’s going to let himself indulge tonight. If that means an entire evening spent stuffing his face with meat feast pizza while marathoning the first season of Laguna Beach, then so be it.

Twenty minutes later, Louis is settled on the couch under a massive fuzzy purple blanket (one of the older twins’ most likely) staring at the Netflix home screen as he waits for the pizza he just ordered online to arrive.

He’s just about to click play on the first episode when the doorbell rings.

Louis gets up and walks over to the door, his mouth already salivating at the thought of devouring an entire pizza by himself.

Only when he opens the door, it’s not a spotty 17 year old from The Pizza Guys standing on the other side of the threshold.

It’s Harry.

***

“Hi,” Harry’s voice is soft, softer than Louis’ heard it in years. He looks worried, like Louis’ going to kick him out or tell him to leave.

Louis’ not sure what to say. He probably should have expected something like this, Harry just turning up on his doorstep, but he hadn’t actually prepared himself for the possibility.

“How’d you know I was here.” Louis doesn’t particularly care how Harry knows, but he also can’t think of anything else to say. He’d just wanted an easy night of pizza and Netflix, not whatever emotional baggage is sure to result from whatever it is Harry has in mind.

“Nick told me.”

That’s enough to force a surprised reaction out of Louis, who goes very still where he’s standing in the doorway.

“You talked to Nick.”

Harry nods. “I stopped by your flat. He was packing up all of his things.”

And that … that makes Louis’ heart hurt.

There’s another tense moment of awkward silence before Harry opens his mouth. “I don’t want to intrude, the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable, but -”

He’s cut off by the sound of a car pulling up and the pizza delivery person arriving. Somewhere, the universe is having a laugh at Louis.

“You can come in,” Louis decides, gesturing for Harry to pass behind him. Harry shoots him a grateful look before ducking past Louis through the doorway and taking his jacket off.

Louis, meanwhile, tips the delivery person and takes the pizza box. He stands in the doorway and stares out into the night, giving himself a moment to breathe before stepping back inside and closing the door behind himself. So this is really happening, then. Harry’s really here.

He sets the pizza box down on the table before joining Harry in the living room. Harry’s just standing in the middle of the room, his eyes taking in every little change that’s happened in the past year.

“It looks different,” he says, his eyes still roving over the pictures on the wall. There’s a new one of the baby twins hanging over the place where Louis knows a picture of him and Harry once was.

“Mum and Dan got bored of how it was before. Figured it’d be worth spending the money to give the room a bit of an upgrade.”

Harry just nods, not saying anything, and Louis feels his face flush. Everything feels so mundane but Louis has no idea what else to say.

He settles for walking back into the kitchen and divvying up pizza onto two plates.

Harry looks genuinely surprised when Louis enters the room again a moment later and hands him a plate.

“You really didn’t have to,” he starts, but Louis cuts him off.

“You’re already here. May as well get some food in both of us before …” He trails off, not entirely sure how to end that sentence. It’s Harry’s turn to get a bit pink in the cheeks.

“Right.”

They eat in silence, neither of them looking at the other for more than a second or two at a time. It’s strange because this should be more awkward than it is. There’s still enough lingering tension in the room that neither of them feels entirely comfortable, but Louis’ pleased to find that while he’s still confused and a bit wary, Harry’s presence doesn’t set him on edge the way he’d expected.

It’s not until they’re both polishing off their first slices that Harry breaks the silence.

“So I guess I should tell you why I’m here.”

Louis’ not sure what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Just nods at Harry to start talking.

“I want to apologize.”

Louis frowns. “You said that in the interview already.”

Harry looks troubled. “I did, but it hardly counts when it’s being said into a camera. I needed to make sure I said it to you, face to face. I need you to know how terribly I feel about everything. I was an idiot and I was in denial for a long time but I’m not anymore. I’m just … I’m so sorry.”

Harry’s eyes are clear, his entire face radiating his apology and Louis has no doubt he means it. The problem is, it doesn’t really change anything. Louis’ still hurting over losing Nick and he’s not sure he could ever trust Harry enough to let him be a part of his life again, let alone date him.

“Thank you. I appreciate that you wanted to make sure you could tell me in person.”

Harry stares at him, waiting for Louis to elaborate.

“Is that all or did you want to talk about anything else?” Louis finally asks. Harry’s eyebrows pull together.

“You’re already done?”

Louis shrugs. “Look, Harry, I think we’ve talked enough these past few days. I appreciate and accept your apology, but I don’t think there’s anything left for us to say.”

Harry looks dumbstruck. “Nothing left to say? Louis, I just came out to the entire country. To the entire world, really, if you want to get hyperbolic. Don’t you think maybe we should at least consider talking about how this changes things?”

“I don’t think it changes things between us at all. You were in the closet. Now you’re not. I’m happy for you, but I don’t see how any of this warrants further discussion.”

“You’re just going to ask me to leave?”

Louis sighs. “I mean, I guess you can stay if you’d like? I was just going to watch some Netflix and maybe open a bottle of wine. But we’re not boyfriends anymore, Harry. We’re not even friends. And I don’t see what good could possibly come from pretending that we mean more to each other than we actually do.”

Harry’s face crumples. “But Nick said you love me.”

Louis just barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. Fucking Nick Grimshaw.

“Yeah, in like a vague I will always love you because you were such a vital part of my life sense. The same way I know I’ll always love mum, or Lottie, or even your parents. It doesn’t mean I’m still in love with you.”

Harry looks incredibly upset. “So this is it? I walk out that door and we just, what, never see each other again?”

“I don’t know, Harry. I’m sure we’ll still see each other around, we’re in the same bloody industry after all. I just don’t see the point in acting like we’re a part of each other’s lives anymore when, prior to this week, we hadn’t spoken in a year.”

“But don’t you see? I’m trying to change that! I miss you, Lou, so much you don’t even know.” Harry’s eyes are wet and Louis’ finding it harder and harder to stand his ground but he knows it’s for the best. Harry hurt him so badly once, he can’t give him the opportunity to do it again. Even just as a friend. The stakes are too high.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

Harry’s on the verge of crying. “Why not? Louis please, let me make this last year up to you. I promise I’ll do anything.”

Louis sighs. “I don’t think you can.”

Harry entire posture sags, his face falling. “Do you hate me?”

“No, of course not. I just don’t trust you anymore. This is better for both of us. Yeah, it’ll hurt but it’s not like we haven’t managed to cut each other out of our lives before. It’s for the best.”

Harry looks horrified. “You don’t mean that.”

“I already told you I did.” Louis scratches at his chin, weighing his words. “I think you should leave now.”

Harry’s lower lip trembles. “Will you let me see you again?”

Louis frowns. “I don’t know. I think it’d be better if we don’t contact each other, at least for a bit. I just need time to deal with everything.”

The old Harry would have put up a fight instantly, but this one just accepts what Louis’ said with a pained nod.

He walks over to the front door, Louis trailing behind him a fair distance away. Harry reaches for the handle but pauses midway, turning back to give Louis a sad smile.

“I know this probably sounds pathetic after everything, but I really do love you still.”

Louis feels his heart break a little bit all over again.

“It’s not enough. I’m sorry.”

Harry nods but doesn’t say anything else. He seems to realize the battle’s been lost. At least this time, when he walks out Louis’ front door, Louis gets to know it’ll probably the last time he sees him in person for a very long time.

The silence rings in Louis’ ears after Harry’s gone. Suddenly he feels very, very alone.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers to himself, feeling his own eyes start to well up.

***

After a few failed attempts at continuing on with his evening as though his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down by Harry’s visit, Louis finally throws in the towel and heads to bed.

He checks in on the twins before heading over to his room, watches their tiny tummies rise and fall as they sleep. It gives him a sense of peace he feels like he’s lost lately. He blows them both silent kisses before heading to his own room and collapsing on the bed.

He’s not sure whether he actually manages to fall into a restless sleep or not, but the next thing he’s aware of is the sound of rain hitting his window, and someone pounding at the front door.

Louis jolts up in bed, his heart racing in panic as he wonders what’s wrong. He glances at the clock. It’s 4 AM. What the fuck is happening?

He forces himself off the bed, quickly popping his head into the twins room to make sure they’re still sleeping (miraculously the knocking doesn’t seem to have disturbed them) before heading downstairs and opening the front door.

It’s Harry. Again.

This time he’s soaking wet, as though he’s been standing outside in the rain for a while. He’s pretty sure he’s been crying too, if the state of his eyes are anything to go by.

“Louis - ” Harry starts, but Louis cuts him off.

“What the fuck are you doing? I have the twins sleeping upstairs and you’re hammering on the door without a single thought about waking them!”

Harry looks horrified, clearly not having thought of that. “But I just wanted to …”

“I don’t care!” Louis and Harry are both equally shocked by Louis’ outburst. Louis takes a deep breath. “You always do this. It’s always about what you want, or what you think, and you never fucking listen to what I need. You keep begging for my forgiveness without actually paying attention to what I’m telling you.”

Harry blinks at him, his eyes wide, and he finally, finally, shuts up and let's Louis finish.

“Doing this, showing up here again even after I asked you to give me space. It’s so incredibly selfish. I want to move on. I have been trying for a year to move on. I even managed to find someone - finally - who I could see myself being happy with. But no, you had to ruin that too.”

Harry’s eyes drop. Louis forces himself to keep talking. He’s finally being completely honest with Harry.

“Do you have any idea how much it hurts to be jerked around by you? To finally seize control of my own life again only to have you show up and destroy everything? It’s not fair, Harry! How the fuck am I supposed to get over you if you keep pulling this shit. Just let me go!”

“I’m trying!” Harry looks wrecked, but his voice is surprisingly strong and unwavering. “And I promise Louis, if this is the last time you ever want to see me I won’t bother you again. I just needed to make sure you knew.”

“Knew what?” Louis asks, and even his voice sounds tired.

“I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but I also know that I will never forgive myself for giving up on us - on you - again. And if I walk away without telling you how much I regret giving up on you in the first place, that’s exactly what I would be doing.” Harry’s eyes land on Louis’, his gaze soft. “When I ended things last year, that was the worst mistake of my entire life. I let my fear get in the way of our happiness. I didn’t fight for you. I just gave up. I can’t make that mistake again.”

Louis sighs. “What makes you think I even want you in my life again?”

Harry frowns. “I don’t. But I need you to know that I won’t give up on you again if you decide you still want me to be. I promise this isn’t me trying to force you to believe me or to let me back into your life. I just want you to know that I love you, and that I’ll always love you.”

Harry takes a quiet breath. “You’re it for me Louis. And if you ever decide you want to try again, or to let me back into your life in whatever capacity you see fit, I promise I won’t ask more of you than what you’re willing to give.”

Louis gives him a long look. “So that’s it. You’re really not going to try and force me to change my mind?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. I just … I need you to know that I’m going to fight for us this time. If you want me to.”

Harry locks eyes with Louis for a moment, neither of them wavering, before Harry bows his head and turns to head back out into the rain.

Louis almost lets him go, too. But he realizes he can’t.

What Harry just gave Louis now, Louis knows how difficult that must have been. Now it’s Louis’ turn to be brave.

“Wait,” he calls out when Harry’s half-way down the driveway.

Harry turns, his wet hair falling into his eyes.

Louis opens the door, a peace offering. “You’re soaked through. At least come in and dry off.”

Harry looks like he can hardly believe what Louis’ offering.

“Are you sure?” Harry sounds uncertain, more like the shy little boy Louis remembers befriending in junior school than the confident rockstar everyone else sees.

“I’m sure. I’ll even pop the kettle on.”

Harry’s eyes light up and he walks slowly back towards the house. Louis offering to make him tea is the ultimate olive branch.

Harry squeezes by Louis, doing his best not to get him wet. Something about the rain seems to enhance his smell, and Louis gets a whiff of the familiar scents of cinnamon and aftershave as Harry moves past him.

Louis realizes that even after all this time, Harry still smells like home.

He refuses to let that thought grow roots, turning to close the door before dashing off to grab a towel from the closet down the hall.

He hands it to Harry, who accepts it with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Louis gets the impression he’s talking about a lot more than just the towel.

“Don’t want you to catch your death.” Louis responds, but he can’t deny the fondness that laces his tone. Harry clearly catches it too, his eyes sparkling.

“I’m gonna grab you a pair of dry clothes if you want to wait here a mo’” Louis decides, taking off to grab a pair of old sweats and a jumper before Harry can say anything. He can only imagine the look on his face right now.

When Louis gets back, Harry stripped himself down to his boxers and a wet t-shirt. Tattoos Louis’ never seen before in person paint his arms and torso through the damp cotton. Louis feels a heat building in his stomach and pushes it back down. Now is really not the time for that kind of reaction.

Louis gestures for Harry to follow him over to the bathroom, handing him the stack of dry clothes before heading back over to the kitchen to get the kettle going.

When Harry emerges a few minutes later, he looks soft and cozy and more like the boy Louis fell in love with all those years ago than the distant untouchable celebrity Louis’ grown accustomed to.

It makes Louis’ heart ache, but for once he realizes it’s not in a bad way.

They sit around the table, drinking their tea and quietly talking about anything and everything (besides, of course, the important things - they’ve both realized now’s not the time to delve into anything deep. They’ve had their fair share of that already tonight).

“Remember that time you almost broke your shoulder trying to climb into my window in the middle of the night?” Harry asks, and Louis chokes on his tea.

“What on earth reminded you of that?” he asks, his laughter showing through his bemusement.

Harry points to one of the empty chairs sitting across from them at the table. “Your mum sat there and scolded us both for at least an hour after getting back from hospital, telling us off for being stupid and how you could have gotten yourself killed.” Harry grins. “If only she’d known the real reason behind your sudden desperate need to come visit.”

Louis snorts. “Hey, I wanted to see you just as badly as I wanted the blowjob you’d promised me over text. It was your fault for not just letting me in through the front door like a normal person.” Louis can’t believe they’re having a lighthearted conversation about their sex life of all things, but it doesn’t feel weird. It just feels like two people who’ve known each other for a long time catching up.

“Robin has ears like a cat! He’d have caught me halfway down the stairs before I could even let you inside!” Harry protests, but they’re both laughing too much at this point for it to matter.

“I’ll never forget the look on your mum’s face when we finally told her we were together,” Louis says, and he wonders for a second if he’s taken the reminiscing a little bit too far.

“She looked like she wanted to throw us a party right then and there, invite the whole bloody neighbourhood to come join in the celebration,” Harry agrees, his smile as soft as the look in his eyes.

Louis takes a thoughtful sip of his tea. “We were good together, weren’t we?”

Harry nods. “We were.”

And for once, the conversation doesn’t end in anger or tears or bitterness. Louis can’t put his finger on it, but he feels like something fundamental has shifted between them. He thinks maybe there’s room for Harry in this new life he’s created for himself after all.

It’s almost 5 am when Louis decides to turn in for the night. Rather than telling Harry to go home, he offers him the living room sofa.

There’s a very good chance he’ll regret it in the morning, but for now, the look on Harry’s face is enough to make it all worth the while.

Louis finds himself falling asleep again with a smile on his face.

***

It’s not until Louis wakes up to the sound of Jay yelling his name that he realizes he probably should have given her some sort of warning that his ex-boyfriend was crashing on the couch in the living room.

There’s a moment of piercing silence before one of the twins starts crying and Louis bolts of out bed, running over to soothe Doris before heading downstairs. She quiets after he picks her up, stroking a hand over her soft ginger baby hair. Ernie’s still sleeping soundly so he lets him be, choosing to go confront his mum with Doris still in his arms so at least she’ll be less likely to yell (and hopefully be charmed by the way her tiny little fists are clutching louis’ finger).

Louis walks down to a scene so ridiculous he wants to laugh. Jay is standing on one side of the room, her posture tense and her eyes zeroed in on Harry, who’s sitting up ramrod straight on the other side of the couch as far away as he can get, the blanket wrapped protectively around his shoulders.

Louis barely has the time to shoot him a quick consoling smile before his mum is all over him. Louis clutches Doris a little bit tighter for strength.

“What is he doing here?” Her voice sounds calm enough on the surface, but it’s laced with anger and resentment. Louis really loves how much she loves him, and while her anger is kind of inconvenient at the moment he can’t say he blames her.

“Harry and I had a talk last night, and by the time we were done it was already 5 in the morning and pouring out. I offered him the couch so he wouldn’t have to drive home in the rain.”

Jay shoots Harry a disapproving look but still doesn’t address him directly. “He staying with Anne?”

Louis doesn’t actually know the answer to that, but Harry pipes up before he can say anything anyhow.

“She doesn’t even know I’m up north. I just drove here straight from London. Booked a B&B  in town just in case.”

Jay gives him a pointed look. “Maybe it’s best you go there now. I want to talk to my son.”

“Mum - ” Louis starts, but she cuts him off.

“Louis, why don’t you walk your friend to the door.” She says, her voice polite but firm. Louis nods.

“Fine. Just let me grab his stuff.” Jay raises an eyebrow at that, but Louis ignores her, handing a sleepy Doris over to her before leaving the room. He re-appears a moment later with a pile of clothes straight from the dryer.

He hands them to Harry, who blinks at him with wide eyes but silently accepts them before walking to the bathroom to change.

Jay opens her mouth the moment he’s out of the room, looking like she’s ready to whisper furiously but Louis holds up a hand.

“Not yet.”

Harry appears a moment later, dressed in his usual skinny jeans and designer shirt. It doesn’t make any sense, but Louis misses the other version of him already.

Louis gestures for Harry to follow him to the front door. He waits until they’re out of earshot before turning to Harry.

“She’s just trying to protect me.”

Harry nods, his expression downcast. “I know.”

Louis touches his arm gently, forcing Harry to meet his eyes again. “It doesn’t mean she hates you. Or that she won’t get over this.”

Harry scrubs a hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.”

“Just give her time. And let me talk to her.”

Harry bites his lip. “What are you going to say?”

Louis shrugs. “I don’t know yet. But I will tell her I’ve forgiven you.”

Harry looks stunned. “You have?”

“What you did was fucked up, I’m the last person to deny it, but I also realize that it’s not healthy to keep being angry about it. You hurt me, yes, but you apologized. And I believe you mean it. So I’m choosing to accept that and let it go.”

Harry looks like he’s close to tears again. “Thank you, Lou.”

Louis gives him a tiny smile. “I promise I’ll call you later, okay? This won’t be the last time you see me.”

Harry grins. “Like I said, I’m okay with whatever you want. This is all on your timeline.”

Louis rolls his eyes and surprises himself by pulling Harry into a hug. Harry tenses up at first, clearly not expecting it, but he melts into Louis’ arms.

“I’ll call you,” Louis says again, making sure Harry knows he means it.

“Bye Lou,” Harry murmurs, a bounce in his step as he pushes through the front door and walks over to his car.

Louis smiles after him. Then he remember his mum waiting for him in the other room and takes a deep breath.

***

Jay is surprisingly okay with everything after Louis sits her down and tells her what happened between him and Harry the night before. He and his mum have always been close, but Louis thinks they must have reached a new level of trust.

Louis knows that his mum’s main concern is his well being. She’d been the one to witness firsthand the destruction Harry had caused to Louis when he left the first time, and she’d been the one to pick up the pieces and help get him back on his feet again.

Louis tells her everything - about the first time Harry had shown up on his doorstep and Nick answered, about Louis coming to see him at Zayn’s sister’s flat and their fight and then about how important Harry’s public apology was to him. Finally he tells her about how conflicted he’s been the last couple of days, about how the part of him that’s always loved Harry is only growing stronger and about how he finally believes that Harry’s being honest when he says he’s changed and he would never do to Louis what he’d done a year ago.

Jay tells Louis that she’d quietly been keeping in touch with Anne this whole time, and that everything Louis’ saying aligns with what Anne’s noticed. Harry’s mum had watched her son’s brightness dull and fade over the past year, but it’s only since he and Louis saw each other again that there are signs of the old sparks coming back.

Ultimately, Jay tells him that it’s up to Louis. It’s his life and his decision. She’ll support him no matter what he chooses.

So he chooses Harry. Or at least, he chooses giving Harry the opportunity to slowly work his way back into his life. He doesn’t want to make any hasty, rushed decisions, but he also doesn’t want to cut him out of his life anymore.

It’ll take time, but Louis knows in his heart that it’ll be worth it.

Louis can’t stop grinning while he sends the text to Harry asking him to come back over for dinner that night.

Harry responds with an enthusiastic YES!!! almost immediately.

***

Harry ends up coming over every day for the next week. He’s moved back in with his mum for the time being rather than staying in a B&B (and Jay tells him privately that Anne is absolutely thrilled to have him home again).

They don’t talk about anything heavy, not since that first night, but they spend the time learning each other all over again. Harry tells Louis about being in the band, and how scary it is and how he still second guesses if it’s really what’s going to make him happy. He tells Louis the best part of that experience was the friends he made, how he loves Niall, Liam, and Zayn more than anything else that’s come from that experience.

Louis talks about what it’s like to be an actor, and how dull it actually is behind the scenes. He tells Harry about Eleanor, about what an incredible friend she’s been and about how excited she’ll be to finally meet him. He also talks about how right it feels to be on stage or in front of a camera, and how he thinks maybe things worked out for best because he’s never clicked with music quite the way he has with acting and embodying a character with everything he has.

They go for walks around their old neighbourhoods, and sometimes Louis will even let Harry hold his hand. Things don’t really go beyond that, but it’s all Louis can handle right now. He’s still not even sure if he wants to get back together with Harry properly. He just knows that for right now, what he’s doing feels like the right thing.

When Louis asks if he has to go back to London soon for work, Harry shrugs and says probably, but it’s not important. Being here with Louis is his priority. He also admits that his management team had advised him to lay low for a bit after that BBC interview to give people time to adjust.

On the fifth morning since Harry’s come back, Louis tells him they should go for brunch. There’s the dingy little cafe that they used to go to sometimes back in school, and it’s been a long time since either of them gone back, especially together.

Louis reckons it’s time to change that.

“I haven’t had a good omelette in ages,” Louis murmurs, perusing the menu in front of him.

Harry smiles. “I remember quite liking their grilled cheese sandwiches.”

They order (and the waitress does a pretty good job of pretending like she doesn’t recognize them) and lapse into a comfortable silence, quietly just watching each other. It’s kind of like how it used to be, Louis realizes.

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asks, breaking the silence. Louis nods, unsure of what to expect.

“Why did you and Eleanor pretend to be a couple?”

Louis’ eyes bug out of his head at that, completely taken aback. “What on earth made you think of that?”

“Us eating lunch together just reminded me of the first time I saw a new picture of you since we broke up. You and Eleanor were photographed at a cafe in North London or something. You had those jeans on - the ones that really emphasize how perfect your bum is.”

Harry looks a bit embarrassed but presses forward anyway. “Anyway, I watched your show. Your characters get together in it and then you two made everyone think you were together in real life.”

Louis pokes at his omelette. “It’s not quite that simple. And we weren’t pretending to be together. We just got papped a few times and the press made it into something it wasn’t.”

“But your team wanted that to happen, yeah?”

Louis rolls his eyes (fondly). “Well yes, of course, but for me and Eleanor it was just two mates hanging out. The producers asked us to do it, said it would help the ratings, so we did. Eleanor’s had the same boyfriend the whole time I’ve known her. It was always just a friends thing between us.”

Harry takes a contemplative bite of his sandwich. “I guess I’m just surprised that you agreed to it.”

If this had been a few weeks ago, Louis would have taken Harry’s comment as an accusation and torn him a new one. As it stands now, Louis understands that Harry’s question is coming from a place of genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know, I guess I just wanted the show to do well and I realized that in order for that to happen I had to play the game. Everyone I worked with knew I was gay, I’ve never kept that a secret, I’ve just never done the public coming out thing. I figured a few staged photo ops that could later be brushed off as ‘just friends’ by the press were pretty harmless.”

Louis takes a sip of his tea. “I think it helped me understand where you were coming from before a bit more, though. It really would have been so easy to just pretend it was true. I wouldn’t have had to say a word and people would have just assumed Eleanor and I were together because we were papped getting lunch a few times. Like, as much as I hate it, heteronormativity sells. Those pap pictures with Eleanor definitely gave the show a huge ratings bump.”

Harry frowns. “Listen, I know I’m the last person in the world who should be saying this but you don’t know that, Lou. You’re so brilliant at what you do, you’re magnetic on screen and I think just as many people would tune in to watch regardless of whether or not you’re ‘dating’ your co-star.”

Louis feels his face flush. “You’re sweet.”

Harry makes sure Louis’ looking at him. “I’m serious. You’re so, so talented. You’ve managed to captivate the entire country.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Okay, now you’re talking shit.”

Harry beams. “I never talk shit when it comes to how amazing you are.”

Louis throws a bit of parsley at him. “Yeah yeah yeah. You almost done? I think mum needed us to pick up a few things on the way home.”

Harry wipes at his mouth with a napkin and nods. “She’s still planning on going out tonight with Dan, right?”

Louis nods. “Yeah,  she’s taking advantage of having a free babysitter while I’m still here so it’ll be just us and the baby twins again.”

Harry nods, his expression unassuming, but there’s a look in his eye that makes the back of Louis’ neck heat up and his stomach flip.

Louis can’t deny that all this time spent with Harry has caused his attraction to him to come raging back with a vengeance, but he’s usually pretty good at hiding it.

Based on the way Harry’s studiously avoiding looking at him right now, Louis has a feeling he’s not the only one fighting to keep his feelings under control.

***

By the time Jay and Dan head out for the night, Louis’ already got the twins tucked up in bed and a bottle of red wine and two glasses out on the table.

He hears Jay and Harry talking quietly by the front door, and then the sound of the door closing as his mum and her husband leave.

Louis’ in the middle of pouring out a second glass of wine when he feels a pair of warm arms around his shoulders and smells the subtle scent of Harry’s cologne.

“You read my mind,” Harry mumbles, and Louis can feel his voice rumbling in his chest behind him.

“I figured we deserve this after all the free babysitting we’ve done this past week. I mean, I love those babies but I do miss being able to sleep in past 8 am.”

Harry laughs fondly and pulls away from Louis, taking a seat opposite him at the table. Louis feels cold in the spots where Harry isn’t touching him anymore.

“God I haven’t had this in ages,” Harry comments, glancing at the label before taking a sip.

“Yeah, can never seem to find it in London. Mum said she’ll have to start having it couriered to me in bulk.”

Harry snorts, nearly spitting out his wine. “That’d be rather expensive.”

Louis shrugs. “Haven’t you heard, Darlin’? I’m famous now.”

Harry just stares at Louis for all of a second before they both burst out laughing.

“Humble as always, I see,” Harry teases, and rather than responding, Louis takes a long, slow sip from his wine, pointedly keeping his eyes locked on Harry.

It’s gratifying to see Harry’s pupil’s dilate and the smile slide off his face as an entirely different kind of look takes over.

Of course, Louis has to ruin the moment by letting some of the wine dribble out of the side of his mouth by accident. It slides down his face and onto his shirt.

He stares down at his clothes in horror.

He hears Harry get up and then feels him kneeling next to him at the table, his hands going to the stain.

“Do you have seltzer?”

Louis bites his lip. “I don’t know?”

Harry frowns. “Okay. That’s fine. I’m sure we can still get this out.”

He stands and surveys the situation before gesturing to Louis. “Hands up.”

“Why?” Louis asks, but he’s already complying. Harry gently but firmly grabs onto the bottom hem of the shirt and pulls it up and over Louis’ head, leaving him half-naked in the middle of the kitchen.

Louis blinks. He’s not wearing a shirt. Harry’s staring at him. He thinks he can actually feel his nipples getting hard.

When it becomes clear Harry’s not actually going to move, Louis coughs. “H?”

That seems to snap him out of it, but only enough to step forward and gesture to the tattoo adorning the top of Louis’ torso.

“Oh right. Forgot you hadn’t seen that.” Louis feels embarrassed but he doesn’t know why. Harry’s just staring at him, open-mouthed. He reaches a hand out like he wants to trace it, but he stops himself.

Louis doesn’t know what to do so he just starts talking. “You’re not the only one who went and got themselves tattooed in the last year.” He tries to keep his tone lighthearted, but it’s hard when it seems like Harry’s barely even paying attention to him.

“Why?” He finally asks, his voice like gravel. Louis’ wine stained shirt hangs in his hands like deadweight, completely forgotten.

Louis sighs. “Because I woke up one day and realized I couldn’t keep living in the past. I couldn’t keep holding onto my anger and my bitterness because it would never get me anywhere. If I wanted to finally break free of all the sadness and the grief, I had to accept that something really shitty had happened and that I’d survived it. Sure, my entire life’s plan had suddenly been forced to change but that didn’t matter. Because I’d figure it out. Everything that had come before, everything that would happen in the future. All of it. It is what it is .”

Louis’ surprised to see Harry’s eyes are wet. And no, this was supposed to be a happy day, not a tear-filled one. Louis can’t have a crying Harry in his kitchen. That is just not on.

He steps forward and wraps Harry into a hug, mindful of the fact that he’s still half-naked. Harry freezes in surprise but quickly reciprocates, pulling Louis as close as he can. Louis feels Harry shaking a bit, can feel the wetness from his eyes against the top of his head, and it only makes him squeeze Harry harder to him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers, and while it’s very sweet of him to apologize again, it’s unnecessary.

“Harry, stop,” Louis replies, pulling back far enough to see his face. “I didn’t tell you that to make you sad, or feel guilty, or any of that. I told you because it’s the truth. It just is. I’ve already forgiven you.”

“But how? How can you forgive me after everything I’ve - ”

And Louis gets where Harry’s coming from, he really does, but also he needs Harry to stop hurting himself. So he shuts him up the only way he can think of. He kisses him.

Well, throws himself at Harry is probably more accurate. And the thing is, it works. Harry seems completely taken aback at first, but he gives in almost immediately. Their lips move together as if no time has passed at all since the last time, and yet somehow, it’s even better than it used to be.

All of the love and the passion that Louis remembers from their relationship before comes surging back, but there’s also something deeper there. They’ve both grown so much in the past year, and it shows even in how they hold each other, how their bodies react to each other.

Louis loves him so much it’s not even funny.

Based on how easily Harry had yielded to him, he’s pretty positive the feeling’s mutual.

Of course it doesn’t hurt to check.

Louis breaks the kiss slowly and pulls back, keeping a hand in Harry’s hair and gently running his fingers through it.

Harry’s eyes are glassy and dark and it takes a second to come back to reality.

Louis takes a deep breath. This is the scariest thing he’s done since he let Harry back into his life.

“I love you.”

Harry stares at him, stunned. Slowly, a huge smile blossoms on his face, and his eyes are brighter than Louis’ seen them in a very long time.

“You do?”

Louis nods, suddenly feeling bashful. “I always did. Even when I hated you.” He blushes. “But I’m not afraid of you anymore. I trust you not to hurt me like that again. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

Harry nods, and his expression is heavy with responsibility. “I love you so much, Louis. I always have and I always will.” He gives him a sweet peck on the lips before continuing. “Losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I promise I won’t let fear fuck this up again. None of the things I have in my life mean anything without you.”

There’s a sincerity in his eyes and in his voice that makes Louis feel like he’s going to start tearing up this time. But there’s also the coiling heat in the pit of his stomach that only keeps building the longer he’s around Harry like this.

“Do you want to go up to my room?”

Harry, bless him, doesn’t laugh at how much Louis sounds like he used to back when they were in school and trying to squeeze in a handjob before Jay got home from work.

He locks eyes with him, his gaze heavy. “Are you sure?”

“Harry Styles, if the both of us aren’t completely naked within the next 60 seconds I will be very cross.”

And before he can over think how ridiculous he’s being, Louis sprints out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom (mindful of the sleeping babies two rooms over, of course).

He’s just managed to peel off his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of old boxers when Harry walks in unbuttoning his shirt.

Louis can make out all of the tattoos decorating his torso and arm that he’d only seen glances of in passing (or in pap pictures) before. He wants to ask Harry about all of them, but that’ll come later. After the sex.

His eyes do linger on the two sparrows inked just under Harry’s collarbones. He’s always wondered about them in particular, about what they mean to Harry. They were the first ones he’d gotten after leaving home, Louis knows that much.

“They’re us,” Harry says, reading his mind. His voice is quiet, almost embarrassed, like he’s waiting for Louis to laugh at him or judge him or something.

“They’re beautiful.” Louis finally says, trying not to get choked up again. “Thank you.”

“The whole time I was away, I kept thinking about you. Wondering what you were doing, where you were, if you missed me too. Whenever I’d be anxious or scared about something, I’d just pretend you were there with me.” Harry blushes. “That’s why I got them. So I wouldn’t have to be alone. You’d always be there.”

Louis’ heart feels full, and he needs to be holding Harry right now. Harry walks towards him on shaky legs, dropping the shirt on the ground.

“Let me see you,” Louis whispers, his eyes trailing over Harry’s body. Harry takes a half-step back and starts peeling off his jeans, then his pants, until finally he’s stood there, looking like a taller, older version of the boy who gave him his first kiss, and his first blowjob, and every other first there is.

It feels like coming home again.

“You’re beautiful,” he doesn’t even mean to say it out loud, but it’s true. Harry, for his part, looks just as awestruck.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, and Louis nods, crawling back up the bed so Harry can join him. Harry gently lays him on his back and climbs over him until they’re pressed up against each other. He starts by slowly kissing Louis, then working his way down his neck and to his torso.

“Missed this. Missed you so much,” he murmurs, his other hand wandering down to where Louis still has his boxers on.

“It’s not like you’ve been celibate,” Louis tries to joke, but his jealousy must clearly show through his voice.

Harry looks up at him. “What are you talking about?”

Louis shrugs, his face tinged red with embarrassment and shame. “I saw the pictures, H. I know how many girls you’ve been with since we broke up.”

Harry looks dumbfounded. “You can’t tell me you believed any of that?”

Now Louis is starting to wish he could be anywhere else. “I saw you kissing them, Harry. Don’t make me feel like an idiot. I’m not.”

Harry sits back, pulling his whole body away from Louis. Louis tries not to take it personally.

“None of that was real. Surely, I mean … You must have known that. Didn’t Zayn tell you?”

Louis blushes but doesn’t say anything. Yeah, Zayn had said that Harry wasn’t actually dating any of them, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t kissed them or hooked up whenever the urge struck. So Louis is paranoid, sue him.

Harry takes pity on him, gently stroking his fringe off his forehead and away from his face.

“Louis, it was fake. All of it. Even the kisses were staged and planned weeks in advance.”

Louis resists the overwhelming urge to bury his face in a pillow. As if this conversation isn’t awkward enough normally, they’re both completely naked which certainly isn’t helping things.

“I thought you’d moved on so quickly. I didn’t understand why I was still grieving and you were already out with a different girl every night.”

Harry shakes his head, his eyes fixed on Louis. “I didn’t have a choice. I never wanted any of that. I wanted them to think I was straight, yes, because I didn’t want to deal with the stigma and the homophobia, but I had no idea they’d try to turn me into this sleazy lothario. I hated every second of it.”

“So you really haven’t...?” Louis asks, hating how much his heart is racing at the thought.

Harry shakes his head. “Only you.”

Louis surges up to kiss him, and Harry reciprocates instantly. His hands drop back down to Louis’ boxers, and he deftly pulls them down and off. Louis winces as the cool air hits his dick. It doesn’t last for long though. Harry puts his mouth on it almost instantly.

“Fuck,” Louis moans, his voice breathy and fucked out already. He can feel Harry smirk around his cock.

Despite it having been a year, Harry’s clearly still got it. He manages to take Louis all the way down in one go (which, Louis’ not one to brag, but he’s not exactly small in the penis department so that’s definitely quite the accomplishment.)

Louis closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of Harry’s mouth. His tongue is doing all sorts of wonderful things that Louis’ missed. Yes, he and Nick had gotten intimate, but Louis’ usually been the one blowing him. And they’d never actually gotten beyond blowjobs. Though Harry hasn’t asked yet, Louis has a feeling he’ll be relieved to hear that.

Harry pulls off a bit and focuses on the tip of Louis’ cock, swirling his tongue around the tip. His eyes are a bit watery, but they’re locked on Louis and it’s making the heat build in Louis’ stomach.

Louis can feel his orgasm building and he tugs on Harry’s hair to warn him, but it has the adverse effect, causing Harry to moan where his mouth is once again wrapped completely around Louis’ dick. The vibrations of his throat combined with the blissed out expression on Harry’s face cause Louis to shoot down his throat.

Rather than looking angry, Harry looks absolutely sinful, his eyes closed in bliss and his tongue darting out to lick at the come that dribbled onto his lips.

“Fuck,” Louis groans.

Harry smirks. “That was fun,” He climbs back up the bed to straddle Louis, his legs on either side of his torso. Louis pulls Harry back down towards him so they can kiss, and he tastes himself in Harry’s mouth. He can’t believe this is really happening. It’s been so long, but they’re both here again together even after everything.

Louis feels Harry’s still hard dick pressing into his stomach and he can’t just let Harry suffer in silence, can he? Hoping that Harry’s kinks are still what they used to be, Louis traces a hand down Harry’s body until he finds the closest nipple. Then he flicks it.

Harry’s back arches as he moans into Louis’ mouth again, clearly enjoying the mix of pain and pleasure. Louis uses Harry’s moment of distraction to flip them over before slinking down Harry’s body and finding his other nipple. He runs his tongue over it, relishing in how responsive Harry is.

“Hoped you’d still like that,” he says, and Harry can’t even find it in him to respond, just groans and gestures for Louis to keep playing with them.

Louis bites his lip and shakes his head. “Nah, I think I’ve got something a little more fun in mind.”

“Lou, don’t stop,” Harry groans, his voice breathy and already halfway to wrecked.

“I could keep teasing you, or …” Louis trails off, running a light finger up his stomach and coming to rest just underneath Harry’s pecs. “I could fuck you.”

Harry’s eyes open widely at that. “You’re ready to go again?”

Louis pretends to be offended. “How old do you think I am? Of course I’m ready to go.” He looks down at his half-hard cock. “Or, I will be in like a minute. Just enough time to work you up a bit more, don’t you think?”

Harry groans as Louis starts nibbling and licking at the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“Thought so,” Louis grins. He keeps toying with Harry, getting him hotter and hotter before eventually sliding off the bed and reaching for the storage box he keeps under his bed. It’s been a long time since he’s been home and actually needed to use anything from it other than lube, but he’s pretty sure he still has some condoms left.

Harry starts writhing around on the bed, impatient, but it just causes Louis to take his sweet time even more.

He eventually finds a condom and a half-empty bottle of lube buried at the bottom of the box, and he climbs back on the bed, placing both on Harry’s stomach. Louis can see that Harry’s a bit disappointed by the condom because they never used to need one, but then again, it’s been awhile since they last fucked to begin with. So safety first.

“How do you want me?” Harry asks, and Louis thinks about it.

“Want to see your face,” he decides, stopping to press a sweet kiss to his lips. Harry grins and lays back, moving his hips up so Louis can slide a pillow underneath. He makes a mental note to thoroughly wash everything on this bed before his mum comes home.

Louis squeezes some lube out on his fingers, seeing Harry’s jaw go slack as he watches him and doing his best to warm it up a bit in his hands before lightly teasing Harry’s rim. Harry’s head falls back against the pillow, his body screaming for it, and Louis decides to draw it out a little bit more, choosing to gently bite at the sensitive skin on the inside of Harry’s thigh.

Clearly not expecting it, Harry makes a choked sound. “No more teasing, Lou, please.”

Louis grins, pressing over the same spot again with his lips before pushing his finger inside Harry and opening him up. Harry groans, his body practically begging, and Louis finally decides to pick up the pace. Once he’s sure Harry can take a second finger, he goes for it, enjoying the groans Harry keeps letting out every time Louis brushes his prostate.

“Lou,” he moans, bucking his hips up to try and get Louis’ fingers in deeper.

“So eager,” Louis says, trying to keep his tone serious but he knows Harry can hear the laugh he’s suppressing. Louis gives him a third finger without warning, making sure that he’s got Harry nice and open before pulling them out.

“Ugh,” Harry’s beyond the point of speaking at this point, Louis’ pleased to note. Louis finally rolls on the condom and slicks himself up with a healthy coating of lube (probably more than he actually needs, but this is Harry, and it’s been so long, he doesn’t want to hurt him).

“You ready, babe?” Louis asks, and Harry’s moaned response of , “Louuuuuuuu” is all the confirmation he needs. Louis pushes in, filling Harry up and doing his best not to blow his own load (again) because of how incredible it feels. Louis can’t believe he ever forgot how incredibly mind blowing it is to be with Harry like this, to feel the level of intimacy they share whenever they’re literally fused together. Any lingering doubts Louis might’ve had buried deep in the back of his mind finally evaporate completely.  He loves him so much, and he knows now without a shadow of a doubt that Harry loves him just as much .

Louis’ barely started working up a rhythm and Harry’s already completely lost his mind, taking everything Louis has to give him and giving him even more back. Harry reaches a hand down to his own dick but Louis stops him with a growl.

Harry reluctantly draws his hand back and Louis instead rests entirely on Harry, so his erection is pressed between their bodies.

The friction, combined with the way Louis’ rocking into him, proves to be exactly what Harry needs to get off. He comes with a shout, spurting all over the both of them. The look on Harry’s face proves to be exactly what Louis needs as he comes shortly thereafter, relishing in Harry’s blissed out look as he empties into the condom. They just look at each other once they’ve both come down, and Harry giggles and pokes Louis in the cheek.

“You’ve got spunk on your face,” he whispers, and before Louis can even wonder how that happened, the crackling sound of the baby monitor interrupts as one of the twins starts crying.

Harry and Louis just look at each other, Louis still with come streaking across his chin and nose, and they both burst out laughing.

“I love you so much,” Harry chokes out in between laughs. The baby only starts crying louder.

Louis forces himself to stop hysterically laughing just long enough to use an old shirt to wipe off his face and the rest of Harry’s come on his stomach before throwing on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt.

He presses a kiss to Harry’s forehead and leaves him, giggling and naked and also covered in come, on the bed.

He can’t help but smile to himself. Sure, their first time since getting back together had been ridiculous, but that was part of the fun. The thought of anything like that happening with anyone else would have sent Louis into cardiac arrest, but with Harry, he knows it’ll wind up being just another hilarious story.

Albeit one they probably won’t tell anyone else.

Besides, Louis thinks as he picks up a tiny shrieking Ernest and rocks him against his chest, they’ll have plenty of times to get it right.

This is just the beginning.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

“Are you sure you didn’t get the time wrong?” Niall sounds concerned, and to be honest, Harry can’t say he blames him. Louis was supposed to be home nearly an hour ago, and Harry’s trying his best not to panic.

He’d texted Louis 40 minutes ago but still hadn’t received a response, and it’s not that he’s worried about Louis only … he’s worried about Louis.

And to make matters worse, he’s had the boys (and Eleanor) all hiding around the house he and Louis bought just a few weeks prior holding balloon animals and wearing party hats waiting to surprise him.

Harry had even invited Nick, which might have seemed a bit mad to anyone outside of the situation but Harry knows he and Louis have tentatively started texting each other again. Nick had declined, because while things were considerably better between him and Louis they weren’t quite at the seeing each other in person stage again yet. While Harry knows things between the two of them are still strained, he has hope that they’ll be able to repair their friendship one day. Nick’s even started dating again, according to Louis, who had seemed genuinely thrilled for him.

The food they’ve set up is starting to wilt and the morale is seriously low. Harry knows it’s not really Louis’ fault considering he’d had no idea there would be a surprise party waiting for him at home, but it’s still a bit depressing.

The Television and Film nominations had just come out a few days before and not only was Louis’ show nominated, but he himself was one of 5 actors up for best male lead in a mini-series.

Louis had freaked out and they’d gone for dinner and drinks to celebrate, but Harry wanted to do more. Hence the surprise party with his 3 bandmates and Louis’ co-star. Speaking of which -

“I don’t know why he’s taking so long. Rehearsals finished hours ago,” Eleanor says, checking her own phone for any missed texts. “I don’t know where he is now but I don’t think it’s a work thing."

And that’s a bit worrying. Harry’s got all these morbid images of Louis in a ditch somewhere, or being kidnapped and held for ransom, or -

The door bangs open and Louis appears, the most intense scowl on his face that Harry’s ever seen.

“Haz, you will not believe the absolutely shitty day I’ve had - ” he starts saying, dropping his keys in the bowl and evidently not having noticed any of them yet.

Harry shoots the other 4 a panicked look and they all start blowing on their party blowers at the same time.

Louis drops whatever he’s holding with a shriek, clutching at his heart with the other hand.

“SURPRISE!” they all shout in unison. Niall tops it off by shooting confetti into the air and doing a bit of an irish jig on the spot.

“What is this?” Louis asks, looking a cross between baffled and amused.

Harry steps forward and gives him a kiss. “I know we celebrated your nomination before, just the two of us, but I wanted to do it with our friends here as well.”

Louis looks like he’s about to melt. The his eyes land on Eleanor.

“I can’t believe you’re here! You blew me off because you said you had a ‘very important thing’ to do later!”

Eleanor laughs. “Yes, idiot, and that thing was you.”

Louis’ eyes travel over Eleanor, Niall, Liam, and Zayn before finally landing on Harry again. He looks awestruck.

“How long were you waiting for me?”

Harry shrugs, about to say it’s not important, but of course Niall chimes in. “Nearly an hour, mate. We were starting to worry you’d died on the way home or something.”

“Niall!” Liam gasps from next to him, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Louis shrugs. “Nearly did, to be honest.”

And that has Harry’s immediate attention. His eyes focus on Louis with concern. Louis waves it off.

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. Just another example of how people in London can’t drive.”

“Did you get hurt?” Zayn asks, his low voice tinged with worry. Harry had been pleasantly surprised to see how quickly and easily Louis and Zayn had gotten on after their first few times meeting. Their friendship had continued to grow after Harry and Louis had officially announced they were back together and Zayn didn’t have to play the middle man anymore.

In all honesty Harry can’t believe how well Louis gets on with his bandmates, but it makes him ridiculously happy that the five of them can all hang out and genuinely enjoy the time spent together.

“Nah, bastard remembered to check for pedestrians a second before he hit me. I was so shaken up I had to stop for a tea on the way home.” Louis says, then turns to Harry. “That’s why I’m late, by the way. I’m sorry. I would have come home right away if I’d known what you lot were planning.”

Harry kisses the tip of his nose, holding back a smile as Louis scrunches it adorably. “It’s fine, babe. I’m just happy you’re okay.”

Louis reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. The screen is completely shattered.

“Sadly the same can’t be said for my mobile. Idiot made me drop it and didn’t even have the courtesy to check if I was alright before speeding off.”

Harry pulls Louis close into his side and buries his face in Louis’ hair. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Aw, we love you too darling,” Niall says before Louis has a chance to respond, and then he does the unthinkable and turns Louis and Harry’s couples cuddle into a group hug.

Well, Harry thinks to himself after Liam, Eleanor, and Zayn have all grudgingly joined into the cuddle fest, maybe this isn’t so bad. Louis might have put up a front at first but it’s obvious he’s enjoying all of the love.

And later, when they’ve all finished the cake Harry baked (from scratch, might he add) to celebrate Louis’ nomination, Harry will look around at the people who’ve come to celebrate with them and he’ll realize that while the situation that brought them all into Louis and Harry’s lives in the first place might have been less than ideal, the outcome has been nothing short of spectacular.