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Louis’ smaller tanned hand is swallowed up in Harry’s hand as they make their way through the building lit with piercing fluorescent lights. Louis feels exposed enough as it is as Harry squeezes his hand for the millionth time just to reassure him.
“Lou,” he speaks quietly, his green eyes indecently vulnerable.
Louis wants to drag him back home right in that instant and kiss him senseless just to convince him never to flash those deeply sad green eyes again. Not to mention he wouldn’t mind removing or perhaps even replacing the dark jeans that cling to Harry’s body and unbuttoning the purple shirt which is already a third of the way undone and happens to reveal a tantalising v-shaped pocket of Harry’s skin.
“Lou,” he says again, tugging on Louis’ hand to bring him back into focus.
“I’m okay,” he says, shrugging in what he hopes is a complacent way.
Yet Harry’s mouth twists into a grimace and his eyes dart away as if what he sees in those falsely innocent blue eyes is too much for him to comprehend. Louis wants to give him the words he expects, the confirmation that this is everything he has ever wanted but something in his heart won’t give, the fear that this will ruin him. Instead, he grabs Harry’s face and brushes his lips across Harry’s as Harry’s large arms wind around him, making him feel as though Harry’s the one keeping him grounded on earth and not the other way round like he intended. After a moment, he buries his head in Harry’s neck and sighs as Harry’s curls tickle the edge of his forehead.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he admits, planting a soft kiss on Harry’s neck to soften the blow.
Harry pulls back, placing his hands on Louis’ shoulders, a look of affection brightening his face as his eyes travel over the baggy grey jumper that Louis’ borrowed from him and the tight red jeans that he was wearing before the first time they had sex.
“Louis William Tomlinson,” he admonishes, a teasing look in his eyes, “are you telling me that you are actually backing out of a dare?”
He knows what Harry is doing, trying to ease the tension as always. Harry strokes his shoulder through his clothes and the sensation is enough to empty most of his thoughts. He’s afraid to walk into that room and do what needs to be done but he’s more afraid of that fragile crooked smile that could slip off Harry’s face in an instant if he doesn’t.
“Never,” he replies with a grin.
Harry’s face softens and his thumb eases itself over his shoulder blade once more.
“Always in my heart,” Harry whispers, suddenly serious again.
The green pools of light that stare at him are filled with the kind of deeper meaning that he has always treasured because every look that Harry bestows on him carries the kind of weight that only can be achieved through their shared suffering and refusal to surrender.
“Yours sincerely,” he replies fondly, snaking Harry by the waist and pulling him in for one more kiss.
Their tongues slide together like two pieces of a fractured puzzle, as if Louis is the jagged key that just manages to fit into the perfectly shaped lock. His hands run through Harry’s curls of their own accord and he’s lost in the moment, just longing for Harry to press him a little harder against the wall that they are now backed up against.
“It’s time,” Harry says, his breathing run ragged as he runs a pale hand through Louis’ hair.
Louis bites his lip and then takes Harry’s hand in his as they move through the doorway into a room full of executives and managers. This is the moment of truth. This is the moment where he tells Modest where they can shove it. Yet it’s not Modest that has him panicking, it’s the world that they live in and the kind of consequences that this could have for the band of brothers that have been his home away from home since he was 18.
Every single face at the table looks up at them with no surprise as they walk in, hand in hand. It’s never been expected that they pretend behind closed doors. In fact, Liam, one of their main managers even encouraged it in the hope that it would prevent them from wanting anything more. How wrong they were.
“What’s this about boys?” Liam asks, at the head of the long glass table as always.
He looks suitably unimpressed in his cleanly pressed suit and pretentious reading glasses that Louis swears he doesn’t need. His mouth is pressed into a thin line and Louis suspects he’s not happy with the idea of them scheduling a meeting instead of him. He never did like being on the back foot.
“We need to talk,” Louis says firmly, taking the lead.
His nerves may be frazzled but this is the way it has always been. He will protect Harry at all costs, even if that cost is his own peace of mind. He knows this is the right time, that this is what he dreamed of on those mornings that he woke up to news of Harry’s latest “fling” but now it all seems a bit too real, a bit too close to home.
“Well I assumed as much when you called a meeting,” Liam responds sarcastically.
He’d never really taken a shine to Louis, perpetually frustrated with his complete inability to obey. Sure Louis fed the public the company line, “Harry and I are just friends,” but he tested the limits one too many times. But honestly, what kind of person in their right mind would be able to keep their eyes off Harry? The boy was the biggest heartthrob in the world for a reason.
“It’s about Eleanor,” says Harry now, pulling Louis into his side, “Lou broke up with her.”
“You did what?!” Liam shouts, leaning across the table with his arms bent in a comical impression of an arrogant, psychotic executive from a movie.
Louis can’t help the smirk that spreads onto his face in response. Harry flashes him a look of warning.
“Trust me, she was fine with it.”
Liam’s nostrils are now flaring, his whole being lit up with rage.
“I don’t fucking care about her,” he breathes, making sure to enunciate each syllable.
“You know that’s not the problem. What are you two playing at?”
“We’ve stayed in the closet for you and for the band for five years. It’s destroyed us in every way humanly possible and enough’s enough. The only reason this has gone on so long is because Lou wasn’t ready,” Harry explains, so calm and collected in a way that Louis could never hope to be.
It’s his turn. He knows he’s about to encourage Liam’s wrath but he can’t think of a more fitting way to say his piece.
“What Harry said,” he chirps.
Liam closes his eyes and exhales loudly.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he protests.
Louis heart thumps unevenly as he imagines the headlines and the judgement. He knows exactly what he’s doing, that’s the problem. He looks over at Harry to see his eyes shining with determination and a strange feeling of pride comes over him. Today, Harry is the strong one.
“Actually we do. I do,” Harry says, his voice suddenly choked up.
Louis eyes are on his face and Harry turns to him with tears in his eyes. Now Harry looks just like the sixteen year old boy who had no idea what was in store for him, as he balls his fists and runs a trembling hand through his curls.
“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out, near flinching, “and I want to be the only one who ever says those words to you.”
Louis heart is thundering in his chest, his head is reeling.
“You’ve never said that before,” he says stupidly, the world sounding quiet in his ears.
“You were never ready to hear it,” Harry responds, anxiety flickering onto his face as he recognises that the same might be true now.
How wrong he is. Because he doesn’t realise that it makes the world of difference. Louis looks back at the table of executives who are all looking frankly a little curious right now. Liam is stood at the big glass windows, his hands on his hips but really Louis couldn’t care less. Harry Edward Styles loves him, is in love with him and none of it matters. He’s not giving up everything for Harry. He’s risking the world for Harry, his everything. Because as Harry stands there looking up at him with what can only be described as terror, he realises he can’t wait to tell the rest of the world that Harry-fucking-Styles is in love with him. Louis rushes across the expanse between them and mashes his lips against Harry’s, his hands on the small of his back pulling him closer. He can feel Harry’s tears on his own face as they kiss and he smiles into his mouth, knowing this means just as much to Harry as it does to him. When they break away, Harry smiles with dimples and all, his green eyes brighter than Louis’ ever seen them. He doesn’t even seem to notice that Louis has not said anything back.
Harry lies in bed, feeling snug and sleepy as he waits for Louis to return after dashing to the toilet in the middle of them making out. He rolls over towards the bedside table and slides his phone into his hand, deciding to check twitter. They haven’t officially come out yet so there’s no need for trepidation. He clicks on the notifications and sees a tweet from Louis from just a few minutes ago. He must have taken his phone to the toilet. It reads;
“I love you, Harry Edward Styles. Always in my heart, yours sincerely Louis.”
Harry decides to address everybody with his reply.
“I’m in love with Lou and all his little things.”
And neither of them could think of a better way to come out to the world.