A/N: The biggest warning I have for this is that it's RPS. Yes, that makes me feel a bit weird, but I'll get over it. The second warning I have is that this hasn't been beta'd. One Direction, ugh, what to even say about them? These (I want to say men, if only to make myself feel better) boys have taken over my life. Errr. Larry Stylinson below. Damn it.
This did not happen. It's fiction, plain and simple.
Harry is a very tactile person. It didn't take Louis very long to figure that out.
It all started very innocently during an interview. When they were all just horsing around, the camera didn't seem to bother Harry, but with several cameras trained on them, and questions being fired left and right, it was different. The interviewer asked Harry a simple question, and now Louis can't even remember what it was. But, Harry just kind of froze. Louis, who was sitting next to Harry, reached over to pat the other boy on the knee. He'd meant to offer support and encouragement, and it had the desired effect. Harry reanimated almost immediately, answering the question sweetly and giving the woman a dazzling smile.
From then on, Louis made it a habit to always be as close as possible to Harry. He also touched the boy whenever he could, a hand on his leg, an arm around his shoulders or waist, fingers carding through his hair… just however he could let Harry know he was there. He hadn't realized the type of stir it would cause amongst their fans. He didn't know he was setting them up for speculation, or that so many pictures of them together would end up posted all over the internet. Well, the pictures, yeah, but not so many of them in seemingly compromising situations. Not that it bothered him. It didn't. He didn't care what anyone else thought. Harry was his friend, his very best friend, and all that mattered was that Harry know Louis was there for him.
So, it started during interviews, but Louis can't quite pinpoint when they started doing it away from the cameras and prying eyes. He doesn't know when it became habit for them to spend hours tangled together on the sofa just watching the telly. He isn't sure how they ended up so close they can hardly be away from each other. But, that doesn't bother him either. He loves Harry. No, not like that. But, maybe more than he's ever loved anyone in his life. Harry's his other half, his soul mate, his sun, his moon, and his stars. And, Louis decides, remembering the way it feels to have Harry fall asleep curled up in his arms, that is not gay. It's not gay at all. It's perfectly normal to love your best friend so completely and irrevocably. It's perfectly acceptable to always want to have his arms around you, or his hand in yours. So, no, not gay. But, it's love all the same.
Louis almost wishes he hadn't stumbled on the website. Because, once you know something, once you've seen it with your own eyes, you can't unknow it. And, he isn't sure this is something he ever wanted to know.
All of those pictures… and he was there for all of it. He was looking directly at Harry in most of them, but he didn't realize it then, couldn't see the look on his own face. Now, looking at them through a lens, he can see what everyone is talking about it. It's there, all over his face.
Louis has never fancied himself the type of bloke to be interested in other blokes. He's never thought about men in a sexual way, and it's disconcerting to see the absolute adoration on his face when he's looking at Harry. He still isn't sure it's sexual, but it's definitely something more than it should be, definitely more than friendship.
So one picture, one almost innocent photo – but for the way he's melting under Harry's gaze – starts the downward spiral into insanity. He can't stop himself. Soon he's not just staring at and studying every photo, he's watching every video he can find as well.
As he watches, he sees Harry go from the nervous boy who needs his touch to a man confident enough to get through the interviews and screaming fans on his own. But, even though Harry no longer needs it, Louis still touches. Harry does too though, like it's become habit for him as well. They hug, they cuddle, they sling their arms around each other, pull each other closer by the waist, giggle and whisper into each other's ears, and there are times, certain videos, when he's sure they are going to kiss. But, Louis was there for it all, and he knows no such kiss has ever taken place, regardless of what their fans would like to think. Still though, he finds himself watching the way he stares at Harry, watching the way he leans into Harry, and he holds his breath, sure he's getting ready to cross that line.
It becomes an obsession for him. He searches for every photo he can find, every video that exists. He's desperate to know when his love for Harry changed, when he started feeling this all-consuming need. But, the answer eludes him. He can go as far back as the earliest photo, and still he sees traces of want on his face. He feels dirty almost. Like, now that he knows he's never been just Harry's friend, he's somehow sullied their relationship. He's taking something that was supposed to be pure and beautiful, and he's defiling it with his very wrong feelings. And, it isn't the 'possibly gay' part that bothers him. It's the 'wanting his best friend' part.
Harry should be safe with him. Lord knows they face enough crazy in the world, and Louis should be Harry's sanctuary. Only now he can't be that, isn't sure that he ever was. Maybe he's only ever been just another person vying for a piece of the curly headed cutie. He feels almost lecherous. He's only two years older than Harry, but sometimes Harry looks so sweet, so innocent, that Louis feels much older.
He starts to spend so much time on his laptop that Harry begins to notice. Louis gets weird looks when he slams his laptop closed anytime Harry comes near. Harry comments a few times on the fact that the history is always clear. It's not just that either. It's the fact that Louis no longer instigates the touching. When Harry reaches for him, Louis will allow himself to be held, but he never does the holding, not like he used to.
It all comes to a head when they return home for the weekend. They've just spent months touring and hardly ever being alone, so when they're finally together without the company of their band mates, Louis feels awkward and out of place. He no longer knows how to behave in Harry's presence. Before, they'd fall together on the sofa, rough house a bit, then end up entwined and talking or watching the telly. Now, Louis sits on the opposite end of the sofa, and Harry looks small and lost on his end.
When it's time for bed that first night, Louis stands quickly, before Harry can get to his feet. Louis calls a soft 'goodnight' and slips into his own room. It's strange, not being pulled into Harry's room for the night, and his bed feels much bigger than he remembers it being. But, then again, he's never spent a night in this particular bed alone. They've slept together since they first moved in here. Yeah, they'd admitted it was odd, but they'd shrugged it off and carried on, much like with every other oddity. But now Louis wonders if there wasn't some small, evil plan in the back of his head to lull Harry into a false sense of security and then pounce like a bloodthirsty predator.
Louis sighs, worming further under the covers, trying to ignore how cold his back is without Harry pressed against him. He's just about convinced himself he's more comfortable this way, when he hears his bedroom door creak open, and a sliver of muted light falls over his face.
"Lou? Can I… can I come in?"
It breaks Louis' heart, how unsure and childlike Harry sounds, how broken and hurt his voice is. It's even worse knowing he's the one who's made Harry feel like that. He needs to tell Harry no, and try to keep this distance he's created, if only for his own sake. But Harry's standing there, in nothing but his pajama bottoms. And for the first time, with the soft hallway light shimmering around him like an aura, Louis thinks it may be sexual after all. Very sexual, because he wants to pull Harry into his bed, into his arms, and kiss him, press their bodies so close together that he isn't sure where he ends and Harry begins.
Louis can't make himself say no, and he nods before he realizes he's doing it. Harry breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the room, closing the door behind him. It's too dark for Harry to see properly when he climbs into the bed, but he finds Louis with no trouble at all, crawling under the covers and fitting his chest to Louis' back. It's natural for them, always knowing where the other is, always drawn to each other. Louis thinks that even if they were deprived of every one of their senses, they'd still be able to find each other.
"What's the matter, Louis? You've been weird for a couple weeks now. I thought maybe you just needed some space, that maybe it was all getting to you. I thought when we got home, things would go back to normal, but they haven't. You're pushing me away. Why are you pushing me away? What did I do?"
And that hurts more than anything else. It's like a knife in Louis' gut. He's been so wrapped up in how he's feeling, how he needs to protect Harry, that he's made Harry feel guilty. Trying so hard not to break Harry has only done more damage.
Louis doesn't think, he shuts his brain off and moves on instinct alone. Every fiber of his being is telling him to comfort and he does.
Turning over, Louis quickly pulls Harry into his arms, and it's so right, so fucking right Harry fits into his arms perfectly. It doesn't matter that Harry's taller. When they're lying down, Harry always curls up, makes himself smaller, and tucks his head under Louis' chin.
They lay like that for the longest time, but sleep doesn't come, and from Harry's uneven breathing, Louis can tell he's not sleeping either. Harry's question is still hanging in the air, and though he hasn't pushed, Louis knows he still wants an answer. The trouble is Louis is terrified. He can't lie to Harry, he never has and he never will. But, he can't very well tell the truth either. If he tells Harry that he's pretty sure he's hopelessly in love with him, it'll ruin everything. So, Louis says nothing, and tries to hold Harry closer to make up for his lie by omission.
Harry's moist breath fans out over Louis' chest, and so quickly he's almost sure it didn't happen, he feels the warm, damp press of Harry's lips against his collarbone. But, just as he convinces himself it was only an accident, there it is again, longer, wetter, and most certainly intentional. Louis can't help himself; he moans.
Harry's voice is husky when he says, "I hoped that might be it."
Louis' can't respond, can't think of anything but how Harry's mouth feels against his bare chest, and then Harry's head tilts back. His lips are right there, so close Louis could easily claim them, but what if he's misunderstood this in some way? What if it's just another faucet of their strange friendship, and not the opening Louis so desperately wants?
Then Harry's kissing him, and it's nothing like the other times they've kissed one another. It's not a quick brush of lips across a forehead, or a teasing peck on the cheek. It's the slick slide of hot tongues and breathy moans, and an almost full body shudder from both of them. It's the feel of Harry's mouth latching onto his bottom lip and sucking. It's heat and need and lust so heavy Louis can hardly find air to fill his lungs.
Harry moves fast, as if he's trying to overwhelm Louis, keep him off balance. And it works, god how it works. One second Harry's kissing him, and the next, he's straddling Louis, nipping down his neck, and grinding his hips purposefully. Tiny little sobbing whimpers fall from Harry's lips as his hands greedily explore Louis chest and sides. Louis falls apart.
This isn't something he knew he wanted until just a few minutes ago, but it's like he's just been waiting for this moment forever. It's like he's longed for it, needed it, dreamed of it since the beginning of time.
Harry's hands are everywhere, and Louis can only reciprocate. He runs his hands down Harry's bare back, and when he dares to grip Harry's cheeks, pulling their groins tighter together, Harry hisses. The steady rhythm of their hips changes, suddenly they're humping each other frantically.
The hard length of Harry's cock drags over Louis', and even through the material of two sets of pajamas, Louis can feel it throb against him. Harry's close, so close. Louis can tell by the way his hands clench on Louis' shoulders, the way his eyes scrunch up, and how his mouth goes slack above Louis'.
"Oh fuck," Harry whines into Louis' mouth, and Louis slips his tongue back inside, bringing his hands up to thread through Harry's hair, holding him in place.
Harry's hips don't stop rolling, and each thrust makes Louis' nerves fire and spark. Every movement of Harry's hips, his cock, is like a bit of heaven on earth. A delicious ache starts in Louis' stomach, spreading out, burning through his balls. Louis groans and tries to get closer to Harry, tries to crawl inside him and pull Harry into him all at once.
Their bodies are pressed so tightly together, that he feels Harry's stomach quiver when his orgasm takes him. Harry emits a little whimper and shivers once.
"Louis," Harry sighs, and that's what finally pushes Louis over the edge, into bliss, his name on Harry's lips.
Louis spills between them, adding his release to the sticky mess staining their clothes.
"Wow," Harry laughs, euphoria evident in his voice and his cheeky grin as he licks happily at Louis' mouth.
"Yeah," Louis agrees.
"This was what was wrong, right? I wondered how long it'd take you. I've been waiting for so long."
"You've what?" Louis asks, pushing Harry back into a sitting position and staring intently at him.
"I've been waiting, Louis. Though, honestly, I thought when you caught on, you'd just grab me and have your way with me. I didn't expect you to sulk for weeks. I didn't think I'd have to make the first move."
Harry's teasing him, but there's honesty in his eyes as well. The light smile playing around the edges of Harry's mouth fades, and he's serious for a moment when he continues, "You did want this, yeah?"
And Harry looks so unsure, so scared. Louis forgets his confusion and the terrifying changes on the horizon for them, and just reverts to being Louis again. He lifts an eyebrow, deliberately looks down at his own uncomfortably wet crotch, and then back up at Harry with a small grin.
"Oh yeah."
Harry visibly relaxes.
"Good. Now do you mind to tell me what finally brought you around? I feel like I've been waiting for you to catch on forever."
Louis blushes, which isn't normal for him, and Harry tries to clamp down on the smile tugging at his lips. Harry fails and Louis blushes brighter.
"Oh come on, can't be that bad. Know how I figured it out? You kept creeping into my wank time. Every damned time I put my hand on myself, there you were in my head. It was unnerving at first, but eventually I had to just go with it. Soon enough I decided it didn't bother me anyway."
Since Harry's story is a bit more embarrassing, Louis finds the courage to say, "The photos. Everyone's always talked about how we look at each other, and I've always shrugged it off. Then, a couple weeks ago, I came across a picture of us looking at each other, and god, Harry, you should have seen the look on my face. I was staring at you all goofy and grinning like a loon. All this time I've been unconsciously telling the whole world how I feel about you, but I didn't even know it myself."
"So why didn't you say anything?"
"Well, I didn't know how you'd react, now did I? I didn't want to lose you, Harry. And, I really thought there was no way you felt the same way. If I'd told you I loved you and you didn't care about me like that, that would've destroyed our friendship. I couldn't do that, Harry. I just couldn't."
Harry narrows his eyes for a moment, and then suddenly levers himself off Louis' thighs. Harry winces as the movement causes his wet pants to slide against him.
"Ugh. I'll be right back."
Harry's gone for only a minute, and when he returns, he's carrying a wash cloth and Louis' laptop.
"What's that for?"
"This," Harry says, holding up the cloth, "is to clean our crotches. This is for me to show you something," Harry waves the laptop.
Harry sits the computer on the end of the bed and turns around to open Louis' top drawer. He pulls out two pairs of underwear and tosses one at Louis. Quickly, almost too quickly for Louis' taste, Harry jerks his pajamas down, wipes himself clean, and puts on Louis' underwear. It's nothing out of the ordinary for Harry to wear Louis' clothes, but seeing Harry in his briefs is more exciting than seeing Harry in his shirts.
Louis can't help but stare as Harry crosses the room and hands him the cloth.
Eyes firmly on Harry's crotch and the way the briefs bulge between Harry's legs, Louis says, "I'm supposed to wash with this? It's dirty; you've just wiped your come all over it."
Harry ruffles Louis' hair, climbing into bed and obscuring the lovely view, "I folded it. All my come is inside."
Harry's lips twitch and Louis bursts out in laughter, finally feeling like he's almost back to normal.
"Really? Inside, huh?"
"Shut up," Harry says, opening the laptop and looking at Louis sideways while Louis cleans himself and slips on the fresh underwear.
Not quite ready to leave the comfort of the bed, or the warmth of Harry's body, Louis tosses the cloth on the floor and scoots right up next to Harry, nuzzling into his shoulder.
"What're you going to show me?"
Harry shivers when Louis breathes over his shoulder. So, Louis opens his mouth, nibbling gently on the exposed skin. Harry moans, his head falling back and his eyes closing. It's amazing to Louis that Harry reacts so strongly to him. If Harry was telling the truth, and Louis doesn't doubt that he was, then he's had to hide these types of reactions for quite a while. When Harry bites his lip and opens his glazed eyes, Louis has a hard time imagining just how Harry's hid it so well.
"If you want me to show you, you're going to have to stop that for a minute."
"Sorry," Louis mumbles into Harry's slightly reddened skin, but he's hardly contrite. If anything, he's eager to do it again, to see the way Harry trembles for him.
"Pull up that photo you were talking about. The one with the goofy face and the silly grin."
It only takes a second for Louis to pull it up. He has an entire folder of them, and the one he told Harry about, his favorite one, is the first one that pops up when he opens the folder as a slideshow.
Harry pauses it, and points a shaking finger to his own face on the screen.
"See? You aren't the only one who looks all moony and in love. Look at me, Louis."
And now that it's been pointed out to him, he can see Harry's want just as clearly as he can see his own. Anxious to see what other times Harry's looked at him like that, Louis restarts the slideshow.
Harry starts a running commentary, telling Louis how he felt at certain times, the things he wanted, how much he needed Louis to wake up and see what was happening between them.
"God, right there, I wanted to kiss you so bad."
"You put your hand on my knee, and I got so fucking hard. Why do you think I'm always so twitchy when you touch my leg?"
"I love it when you throw your arm around me. See how huge I'm smiling? It makes me feel like you're staking your claim, like you want me as much as I want you."
"I remember thinking your hand would burn right through me, the way your fingers were digging into my side, the way you were practically clinging to me."
For every photo, Harry has something to say, something that changes how Louis views their entire relationship. It's all just been falling. Both of them falling so fucking hard and so fucking fast. Foreplay too. The way they wrestle with each other, find ways to hold onto to each other, touch each other. It's ridiculous to Louis that he didn't realize it sooner.
Louis closes the laptop, making a mental note to finish looking at the pictures later, maybe the videos too. But, as much as he is enjoying the Harry point of view he's getting, he's much more interested in exploring this shift that's occurred between them.
"What're you doing? There's more. I know there's more."
"Yeah," Louis whispers, "But why would I keep looking at pictures when I have you right here beside me? And, barely clothed, I might add."
The smile Harry gives him is dazzling, and Louis feels blinded by it.