Chapter Text
Summer 🌼
The beginning of the school year is always the absolute worst for Harry. It's all figuring out where to sit at lunch and who you can trust in class to help out when you doze off during lectures. Harry thinks it's even worse this year because Louis won't be speaking to him for the unforeseen future.
Harry and Louis have been friends since they were young, only living a street apart for years. They played with toy trains and paper airplanes, they walked into their very first and very last day of primary school hand in hand, they asked each other embarrassing questions that left their cheeks tinted pint as they navigated puberty through middle school, they shared their first kiss together because they were too nervous to ask anyone else, they blurred the lines constantly between friendship and something more.
It finally reached something a little bit more when Harry realized he couldn't give himself to anyone he tried to be with. He wanted it to be Louis, he needed it to be Louis, but he didn't know if he felt the same way until one night after winter formal when Harry and Louis sat in Harry's mum's car eating soggy chips and parked at their secret spot they had found when they were young.
Harry had asked Louis if he's ever 'done it before' in his very graceful and elegant way and Louis had bashfully admitted that he had not. Harry didn't ask him what he really wanted to ask; would you want to... with me? He didn't have to ask because Louis knew, always knew what he was thinking, what he wanted, what he needed from him.
So, Louis turned to him and kissed him. It was different than it was the first time all those years ago. It was needy and hot, and Harry was embarrassed that he felt like he couldn't breathe without it. Like if Louis pulled away, Harry's soul would be pulled straight from his lungs. Louis made all the moves, Harry being too nervous to do anything that would make Louis stop kissing him, stop touching him, stop making all the sounds he was making.
It was everything Harry wanted it to be, and it was everything that Louis had thought that it would be. Not that he would ever tell Harry how much he'd thought about his best mate in that way. That would just cross a line with them. A line that gets blurred more and more.
They didn't tell anyone about their night together, but their mums talked very loudly and very frequently about the state they both came home in when the night was slowly turning to morning. Harry wonders if his mum knew, he didn't want to tell her that he thinks that maybe he likes boys. He definitely didn't want to tell her that he tried everything that they learned in health class that was meant to be with a girl, with a boy. With Louis.
His mum and Louis' mum found out anyways. Maybe they always knew there was something with Harry and Louis, something more than sleepovers and playing with toy trains. But neither of them said anything when Harry and Louis started to hold hands and cuddle on the couch watching movies on the weekends and kiss lightly when one had to go home. It never had to be a conversation and the boys had never been more thankful for their mums. For not having to explain themselves.
Their sisters never shut up about it, though, unfortunately. Whispers of 'what's it like?' and 'have you always been in love with him?' and Harry and Louis would just shush them sternly and tell them it was none of their business, but the girls saw the brush of pink crawling up their necks to the cheeks and took that as a good enough answer.
That is until Harry fucked it up. That's what Louis thinks anyway. Harry thinks it was Louis' fault. Does it really matter in the end, though?
So, now, Harry stares Louis down across the classroom. He knows Louis can feel it, his eyes burning into his skin, but he doesn't look up, he refuses to pay Harry any attention. Come on, Lou, look at me, please, Harry thinks it into existence. He's not ready for it when Louis turns just slightly to face Harry. His heart drops to his stomach when Louis looks up at him with big bright innocent blue eyes.
Meet me in the hallway? Harry mouths to Louis. He shakes his head. Please? He tries again.
Harry hears Louis sigh loud and annoyed across the room and watches his hand shoot up in the air. He waits to be called on to ask if he can use the restroom like the good little student, he pretends to be. Harry walks out a minute after him after going up to Mr. Rochester's desk to ask instead of waiting at his seat.
Harry walks out into the hall with a deep breath convinced Louis had left him standing there alone. But there he was. Leaning against the lockers across the hall, four steps away from Harry, in his ratty old vans and ripped black jeans that he knows drive him crazy. Harry can even see a shirt he gave Louis to sleep in peeking out from below his sweatshirt.
"Um, hi," Harry says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Louis scoffs. "If you begged me to come out here so you could say 'um, hi' I'm going to be pissed,"
"What's new?" Harry counters.
"Seriously, H?" Louis says narrowing his eyes at Harry.
"Didn't beg," Harry mumbled toeing at the ground and shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Alright, well, this was fun, truly," Louis says pushing himself off the lockers and moving to walk back into the classroom.
Harry grabs his wrist and pulls him back. Louis looks at him with fire in his eyes. Louis hates being manhandled. Especially by Harry. He lets Louis go as quickly as he grabbed him.
"Sorry," Harry says with his hands up, palms facing Louis. "Sorry, just instinct,"
"Whatever," Louis rolls his eyes. Harry wonders if they could get stuck like that.
"I just wanted to see if we could put this all behind us. You're my best friend, Lou. We've always been there, don't let whatever happened mess it up," Harry says nervously.
Louis eyes Harry for a long time. So long that Harry starts to wonder if he actually said anything out loud or if he accidentally said it all in his head, hoping that Louis could communicate with him telepathically like they used to try to do when they were kids.
"Used to," Louis says clearing his throat. "Used to be best friends,"
And then Louis is strutting back into the classroom and Harry watches him take his seat without even a second look back at Harry. It hurts, more than it should, that Louis doesn't even want to be civil with him.
The next day, Louis isn't in homeroom. He isn't in the only class that they share together, and it makes Harry a little worried because he saw him driving to school this morning. He saw Louis buying breakfast in the commons. He knows Louis is here.
"Liam," Harry whispers, crumpling up a gum wrapper and aiming it at his head. "Liam," he tries again, louder this time.
"What?" Liam says tensely, looking over at Harry like he's the most annoying person to walk the planet.
"Where's Louis?" he asks. Harry looks up to the front desk to make sure Mr. Rochester wasn't looking at them. Harry really can't afford another detention, not after his mum threatened to lock him in his bedroom until the second coming of Christ.
"He switched to a different homeroom," Liam tells him and goes back to working on homework that most likely isn't due for another week if he knows Liam at all.
"He switched his homeroom?" Harry asks, mostly to himself.
He doesn't want to make assumptions about why Louis did this, but he thinks it has to be because of him. He shouldn't have asked Louis to talk to him. Shouldn't have begged him to when he very clearly did not want anything to do with Harry. It was one day, one ridiculously short conversation, that's all it took for Louis to go running for the hills and change his homeroom so that he didn't have to spare a second around Harry.
Harry tries to float through the day half paying attention to his lessons and half wondering if he'll be able to sit with his mates at lunch or if Louis will have monopolized that too. It's like a nasty divorce where the kids are pulled every which way. Harry feels bad for Zayn, Liam, and Niall, really, he does. They shouldn't have to pick and choose day after day who they spend time with, where they're going to eat lunch, and who's house they're going to. It's just how it is right now.
"Niall, please, I'm begging you, shut the hell up about golf," Zayn pleads when they find their socially assigned table in the middle of the lunchroom.
"Or what?" Niall says sending a glare in Zayn's direction.
"Or I'll off myself right here, right now," Zayn says putting his face in his hands.
"Do it," Niall challenges.
"Come off it, both of you," Harry says with the most exaggerated sigh and eye roll he can muster.
"I just like golf, what's so wrong with that? He's supposed to listen to me and love me for it, but I'm not feeling any support," Niall whines roughly pulling apart his orange.
"I listen to you talk about it all the time though, Ni, when's the last time you listened to me talk about art class or my work?" Zayn asks.
Harry watches Niall sit there without an answer. He nudges him harshly with his knee. "I'm sorry," he grumbles.
"Thanks," Zayn says with a dramatic sigh. "Me too," he adds as an afterthought.
"Very sweet, love it when you get along," Harry says feeling exhausted from mediating. "Anyway, can we move onto my problem?"
"Which would be?" Niall asks a little less irritable.
"Louis switched out of our homeroom," Harry says resting his chin on the palm of his hand.
"So what?" Zayn asks fishing for the last crisps in the bottom of his bag.
"So, I think it was because of me, he doesn't want to be around me anymore," Harry says stabbing peas onto his fork with more force than necessary.
"Have you spoken to him at all?" Zayn asks softening a little. Not enough, Harry thinks.
"Yes," Harry mumbles, embarrassed. "Yesterday. We left during class to talk and I asked him if we could be friends still,"
"And what did he say?" Niall asks.
"He said that would just be ace and then we went and made out under that stairs," Harry says frustrated. "What do you think he said? No, obviously,"
"Sorry, just a question," Niall grumbles but still hands his banana to Harry because he knows he likes them more.
"I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated. We both did each other wrong, but it seems like I'm the one getting fucked over for it," Harry says peeling the banana and taking a big bite.
"Just go do that in front of him, I'm sure it'll win him back," Zayn says looking at Harry disgusted and a bit amused.
"Tried that," Harry says around his mouthful. "Not impressed anymore,"
Niall laughs at that and Harry takes it as a small victory.
"Liam barely talks to me anymore. Louis won him over and I'm left with you lot," Harry says leaning his head on Niall's shoulder.
"One problem at a time, please," Zayn tells him. "You have too many to keep track of otherwise,"
"You're very funny," Harry deadpans. "Cheer me up, please?"
"We'll come over tonight and have pizza and ice cream, how about that?" Niall offers and Harry is quick to accept.
🌼
"You're supposed to be nice to me, I'm heartbroken," Harry whines as Niall beats him in scrabble directly after Zayn won the game before.
"You don't sound heartbroken, mate," Niall laughs as Harry tosses over the board true to being the sore loser he is.
"I am," Harry reassures. "But I know we'll just come back to each other. We always do, it's how we are,"
Niall and Zayn exchange looks which doesn't make Harry feel any better. Harry sighs, "what is it?"
"It's been longer than you're usually apart," Niall says.
"I'm well aware," Harry says crossing his arms over his chest.
"And the fight was a lot worse than it usually is," Zayn tries.
"What are you getting at?" Harry snaps.
They exchange another look. One that Harry reads as 'better lay off before he blows up at us too'. Harry wishes he didn't see it
"Nothing, H," Zayn says trying to break the tension. "Want to go skate before it gets too dark?"
Harry lets the moment pass and nods instead. Harry follows Zayn and Niall outside and grabs his skateboard from its place in his room.
"I'll race you around the block, and if I win you have to order the pizza," Harry says to Zayn as they aimlessly skate around the street.
Niall had already fallen off his board and hurt his ankle. He and Liam have never been ones to like skateboarding as much as Zayn, Harry, and Louis do. Did.
"I'll take you up on that," Zayn says spinning around and doing a heelflip trick next to Harry just to show off.
"Niall count us off," Harry says shoving Zayn's shoulder to knock him off his board, Zayn retaliates and laughs.
Niall halfheartedly counts them down and they take off skating as close as possible just to make the other mad or throw them off. Harry takes the lead quickly, and he's not sure how because Zayn is just the type of person that's good at everything. Better at everything than everybody else. It should be infuriating, but really, it's endearing because it's Zayn and he doesn't even know how wonderful he is.
Harry wonders if Zayn is letting him win to make him feel better because he and Niall know something's been very wrong and it's not just about Louis, although that's always at the forefront of his mind. Has been since before he can remember.
More realistically Zayn is letting him get ahead so that he can sneak up on Harry when he gets too cocky and laugh at him when he has to order the pizza and get talked into buying the ice cream too.
Harry rolls around the bend and takes off down the next street, feeling the wind rip through his hair, tangling it and whipping on his face making his cheeks feel icy.
It should be hot out, it's August and it's always sticky and warm and Harry's least favorite time of year.
Except for when Louis would throw him in the pool on particularly hot days and jump right in after him, dragging Harry up to the surface for air and pulling him closer with his legs wrapped around Harry's hips and his tongue in his mouth and his hands in his hair.
Louis, smelling like sunscreen, sunshine, and tanned skin all at once. Tasting like salty skin and sweet watermelon ice lollies.
Louis, dragging him to the beach and laying out too long in the hot sun, too invested in reading to each other, getting sand stuck in their toes and between their fingers as they roll around play fighting and kissing far past their beach towels. Running into the little cove that Louis had found as a child when the rainstorms come out of nowhere because England is just that way. Hiding in there, long after the rain stops because they got caught up in each other, memorizing the way their bodies fit together like a puzzle.
Harry looks over and sees the house. He feels like he can't breathe and his body freezes.
Harry's skateboard hits a rock too big to skate over and he hits the pavement with a thud straight onto his hands and knees. "Fucking hell," he curses sitting back on his heels and wiping his hands clean of dirt and rubble. He gets back up, brushing off his knees and wiping the specs of blood on his palms onto his jeans.
"Are you alright?" Harry jumps at the voice. Zayn had already passed him with his finger pointed at him and a loud laugh to follow. Always so caring, that one.
"Yeah, sorry," Harry says flipping his board up to his hand hoping that the familiar voice will want to keep his attention for just a little longer.
"You never were very graceful," Louis says taking a long drag of his cigarette.
Harry glares. "At least my mummy won't come outside and yell at me for smoking,"
"Not home," Louis says easily. "I'm not stupid enough to smoke a joint with my mum home,"
Harry raises his eyebrows. "Smoking weed in the front garden. Classy, Lou,"
"Oh, shove it," Louis rolls his eyes and takes another hit. "Do you want some or not?"
Harry skeptically walks up the drive towards Louis. "Offering to share with me? What did I miss since yesterday?"
"I'm nicer when I'm high," Louis shrugs. "That's what you used to say anyway,"
Harry nods and takes the joint that Louis offers up to him. He takes a long hit as he watches Louis watching him right back. He never takes his eyes of Louis' squinting back up at him. He blows the smoke straight into Louis' face and remembers all the times they would smoke after sex and how Louis would blow the smoke into Harry's mouth before he kissed him. He thinks he sees a flicker of memory on Louis' face too. But he isn't sure.
"Thanks," Harry says handing it back to Louis. "For the record, you are nicer when you're high,"
Louis gives a halfhearted laugh and a smile to match. "Always been so charming, H,"
"H?" Harry muses.
"Lou?" He counters.
"Old habits die hard," Harry says
Louis hums in agreement and stands up to go back inside. "Yeah, so will you,"
"Eat shit," Harry shakes his head, all but throws his board on the ground, and skates off to get away from this house, this place with so many memories, this person with so many memories.
"Where the hell have you been? I think you owe us two pizzas and ice cream for taking so long," Niall complains. He hates being stuck with Zayn alone because Zayn taunts him relentlessly. They're like two five-year-olds that are fighting for mummy and daddy's attention.
"Piss off," Harry huffs and rolls his board over to hit Niall in the shin. "Louis saw me fall, and saw Zayn ride right by me,"
"You talked to him?" Zayn asks shock clear on his face.
Harry nods. "He was out smoking, and he let me have a hit. Just a bit of banter, nothing to it,"
Zayn looks over Harry, watching for signs that he's lying or that there was something more. He must decide there's not because he helps Niall up off the ground and picks up Harry's skateboard. "Buy us pizza and we'll watch romcoms with you all night,"
"And ice cream," Niall adds.
"Yeah, alright," Harry laughs taking out his phone and searching up his favorite pizza place.
It's a bit cathartic to be lazy with his best mates. It's hours of eating greasy pizza and shoving ice cream in their mouths, a pint each, even though they're ridiculously full.
It's laughing at Ryan Reynolds in The Proposal and crying to themselves when Drew Barrymore doesn't remember Adam Sandler in 50 First Dates.
Harry eats his weight in ice cream and his chin is dripping with grease, and even though Louis drives him crazy, pisses him off, irritates the living hell out of him, he really wishes Louis was sitting on his lap, kissing the grease away and feeding him ice cream by the spoonful.