Chapter Text
Louis has just gotten back from his first acting class and he's over the moon.
A few years back, he'd tried it, but the drama teacher told him he was too inhibited. Inhibitions could be overcome, she'd said, but if his came from fear of embarrassing his family or a sense that he had to adhere to propriety because of who he was, well, that might be an external barrier that he was stuck with, not an internal block that he could conquer. She'd been right about that and he'd quit before the term was over.
But now, he could taste freedom. In a few months, he'd just be Louis Tomlinson again. Maybe he could actually pursue his greatest passions now, and not just the interests that were suitable for his station. He isn't free yet, and he's not completely sure what he'll do once that day comes. For now, what he can explore is acting.
He loves it. He'd felt electric on stage, even though the only people watching were his classmates and his teacher. He loved the sense that he was shedding his skin and inhabiting someone else's. The teacher had advised him that he was just a tad exuberant for that particular role, but he had a real knack for feeling the character. He thought that was pretty good for a beginner. He'd improve – that was the whole point of taking lessons, right?
Relaxing into the couch, his mind was full of daydreams. He could do Shakespeare at the Globe. He could be on Broadway! He could be a Hollywood star. He'd come out and he'd still win an Oscar. He could travel the world, live everywhere, do whatever he wants. Maybe he'd still have to take care with his image in that future, but if he messed up, it'd only hurt his career, not the entire monarchy.
He feels restless. Only a few months. Ten weeks if the boys make it to the final. He can wait. After nearly eighteen years, ten weeks is nothing, he tells himself sternly.
He calls his mum to tell her about it – his real mum, Jay. She's cooking dinner but she lets him chatter, murmuring distractedly and occasionally hollering at one of the girls to stop pinching your sister or don't eat that, dinner'll be ready soon! It's homey and sweet.
Soon enough, she has to go and serve the food. She tells him she loves him and she's proud of him, and then she hangs up. He stills feel a bit lonely – Gemma is out with friends for the evening, so he's alone in the flat. He texts idly with Luke to check on any news from home and flips the telly on to some boring program he doesn't care about.
He itches to text Harry, and he mentally smacks himself when he realises. He's trying very hard not to think about Harry, but the boy keeps popping up in his mind. He'd looked like such a goober on stage. But an extremely sexy goober. That hair, those eyes, his figure, his sweet smiles, the way he shyly ducks his head and adjusts his fringe...
“God damn it.” Mooning over the lad who was supposed to be like a brother to him is not how he wants to spend his time. Louis surges up off the couch and goes to find his running clothes. He doesn't love running, but he does it because he loves football and he likes being fit enough to play. And, at times like this, it clears his mind. He can focus on the burning in his lungs and muscles, the rhythm of his feet on the pavements, the wind in his face. Clarity, focus, that's what he needs.
It doesn't work.
Well, it sort of works. He feels better while he's running. But when he gets home, he sits back down in front of his laptop, still all sweaty, and he googles “Harry Horan.”
This is a new low.
All the boys are all over Tumblr, but Harry especially. They've made gifs of every second he's been on the show. It's kind of fascinating, and also a little bit sad, because there's just not that much material here, and these girls (they all seem to be girls) are so fixated on so little.
Okay, Louis might be a little fixated on Harry, but at least he's met the guy.
He should just text him instead of staring at gifs of him on the internet. Texting is much less creepy. It occurs to him, though, that he initiated the last two text conversations. Isn't it Harry's turn? Shouldn't he worry about coming on too strong? (In a friendship way, of course. He isn't coming on to Harry. That would be weird.)
He groans and flops back to lay on the couch. He's a disaster.
“Is it too soon to text him?” Harry whispers to Liam.
“We're supposed to be learning about social media management. Stop thinking about your dumb boyfriend,” Liam hisses back.
“He's not my boyfriend.”
“Because you're too chicken to text him.” The fact that Liam manages to snap while still speaking too quietly for the instructor to hear is an accomplishment. “It's not too soon, just do it and shut up.”
“Thaaaanks, Li.” Harry leans over and kisses Liam on the cheek, which the instructor does notice. She glares at them. Harry smiles back innocently.
Once she's back to her lecture, Harry starts the staring contest with his phone. To his disappointment, it doesn't magically produce a witty message. He types out a bunch of different attempts, but deletes them all. Liam sighs, snatches the phone out of his hand, types Hi, presses send, and slides the phone back to Harry.
Harry glares at him. His face feels hot and uncomfortable. “Not okay, mate,” he hisses angrily. What if Liam had seen a message mentioning Gemma, and put two and two together? Logic says Liam would not automatically think that Harry was texting the Prince and Princess, but logic has nothing against blind panic.
The phone buzzes. Liam pumps his arm victoriously and smirks at Harry's frown. Harry braces himself and checks the phone.
Louis to Harry, 3:18 PM
Hello !
Louis to Harry, 3:21 PM
?
Harry to Louis, 3:22 PM
We're learning about 'proper use of social media'. it's rlly boring
Louis to Harry, 3:23 PM
Sounds like a valuable learning experience that you arent appreciating
Harry to Louis, 3:23 PM
:(
Harry to Louis, 3:24 PM
noooo pity me
Louis to Harry, 3:27 PM
Poor Curly . It's a tough life isn't it
Harry to Louis, 3:29 PM
Now that's more like it.
What are you doing??
Louis to Harry, 3:33 PM
Revising. English ! We're reading Jane Austen, can you believe it?
Harry to Louis, 3:34 PM
Oi nothing wrong with that. Don't u love a good romantic story? Oooo Mr Darcy
Louis to Harry, 3:36 PM
Oh my god I just choked on my tea
I can jst imagine you saying that hahahaha
Harry to Louis, 3:37 PM
;D
Louis to Harry, 3:46 PM
ok but Colin Firth or the one from the movie with Keira Knightley
Harry to Louis, 3:47 PM
Now that's more like it!!
Colin Firth OBVIOUSLY
Harry to Louis, 3:49 PM
don't be ashamed of loving Mr. Darcy
Louis to Harry, 3:52 PM
it was just a question & who said anything about ashamed
Harry to Louis, 3:53 PM
why'd it take you like 10 minutes to come up with that question then
Louis to Harry, 3:56 PM
I told you im revising !! I'm a very busy man Harry
Harry to Louis, 3:58 PM
Right . . .
“Oh my god – Kelly Clarkson?”
“Hey, it's a fun song!”
“How come only Liam gets solos? Harry and Niall are good singers too!”
“Oh, no, what was that, Harry? He's such a dork!” Gemma groans.
“He's so cute,” Louis whines.
“Wait, what?” Gemma turns to stare at him.
“I mean... I just wish I could give him a hug! A brotherly hug,” Louis says defensively. “Because they did good.”
Gemma narrows her eyes at him.
“I can't even cope with how cute you are... I just want to go up and hug them! In a nice way,” Cheryl Cole says on the screen.
“See. Cheryl gets me.”
“You're being so defensive.” She eyes him suspiciously. Suddenly, she jabs her finger into his chest. “Do not bang my baby brother.”
“What! Who said anything about... what the hell.” Louis sputters. He feels the heat in his face and has the sinking feeling that his stupid blush is betraying him.
“Oh my god, no wonder you look like such a dope when he texts you.” A grin slowly grows on her face. “Oh my god, Louis' got a crush on a pop star.”
“He's not a pop star, he's just a contestant on a stupid show.” Louis sinks into the couch and prays it will swallow him whole.
“A stupid show for future pop stars,” Gemma sing-songs.
“This family won't let him be a pop star anyway.” Louis grabs a cushion from the couch and buries his flaming face in it.
“Well, thanks for that, Debbie Downer,” Gemma mutters. He startles when he feels her arms wrap around him. “Love you, Lou-lou. I'll never forgive you if you do anything with baby brother, but I'll still love you.”
“You're disgusting,” he grumbles, muffled by the pillow. He really wishes she'd stop talking about this. Except that he's pretty sure that she's being supportive, in a gross older sister kind of way, which is sort of okay.
A few days later, though, over a lovely pasta dinner that Gemma prepared for them, Louis complains, “But I didn't even come out.”
Gemma raises her eyebrows. “I mean, you're kind of obvious, Lou.”
He groans. “Isn't there supposed to be, like, a code of silence? Like, you don't ask until I tell you? Isn't that that American thing?”
“No, that's not what 'that American thing' is,” Gemma says slowly. “Hey, I am sorry if I hurt your feelings. It didn't seem like you were trying to hide it really.”
“I was, though.”
She giggles. “Sorry, I'm just thinking, so those acting classes aren't paying off yet. Don't worry, little Louis, you'll get there.”
“Oi, don't patronise me.”
“But you've got a crush. I can't not. That's big sister rules. Especially because it's Harry, which is so weird and gross.”
“This is the worst.” He picks up his plate, suddenly resolved to finish eating in his room.
“Say hi to Harry for me!” Gemma calls as he walks down the hall. “And tell him to text his actual sibling sometime! Or call me!”
Just for that, he doesn't mention her at all when he texts Harry whilst finishing his spaghetti.