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Chapter Text

Harry and Louis entered the office together, feeling strange without their other 3 bandmates. “Um, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson? We’re here for Ben Winston?” The receptionist looked up and pressed a button, a soft ring coming out. “Elevator’s over there, 15th floor, his door will have his name on it.”

“Okay, thank you!” She waved them off and looked back to her phone. Harry’s face fell, and Louis just chuckled, grabbing his arm and tugging him towards the elevator. They had been an official band for 5 months, touring for most of it, and had normal check ups with their management. But none of the boys had been called on their own, or only with one other person. “What do you think this is about?” Louis asked as the doors closed. Harry shrugged and draped an arm over his shoulders. “Maybe they’re going to tell us to stop being so touchy.”

“Maybe.” They lapsed into silence, Harry’s hand going to his mouth to chew on the skin of his knuckles while Louis started to fiddle with his fingers. Visiting management was always nerve-wracking. Louis was the only one over 18, and even he was nervous when visiting all of the important people in their stuffy offices. Ben was more manageable, always trying to make the boys comfortable, but it was still scary. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Louis laced their fingers together and led Harry forward and down the hall, where he knocked on Ben’s door. It swung open, and Ben was standing there, arms spread wide. “Boys! Hello, hello, come in, come in.” The boys shuffled in and sat down on the chairs in front of his desk. He rounded the desk and sat in front of them, sighing happily. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here without the other boys.” They both nodded mutely. “Well, there’s something I need to talk to you boys about. You know how the fans call you Larry Stylinson, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you need us to stop acting so touchy?”

“No, the opposite, in fact. We think that having LGBT representation in the band would be really good. And the fans would be super happy to have a ship become real.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows and Louis straightened up, preparing to protect the younger boy. “So?”

“So, we were wondering if you could… pretend to date.” Harry’s knees knocked together and he chewed on his knuckles again. “Like how? Kissing on stage? Holding hands?”

“Basically, yeah. Just act how you do now, but maybe throw some big announcement out online, or do one on stage. We’d set up some pap walks, or dates in public spaces.” Louis sank back into his chair, glancing over at Harry, who was still aggressively chewing on his knuckles. He reached over to pull his hand away from his mouth. “What do you think?”

“I think… if it would help the band it wouldn’t be too bad. It wouldn’t be hard to fake. We already act couple-y.” Louis nodded and looked back at Ben. “If he’s okay with it, so am I.” Ben clapped his hands together, pulling out a contract. “You can put out the announcement whenever you’re ready, all we need from you right now is a signature.”

“What did they want?” Niall asked as they entered their hotel room. Zayn and Liam looked up from their game of FIFA, eyebrows furrowing in concern when Harry brushed past them all to kick his shoes off and climb into his bed, hiding away. Louis sighed, closing the door behind him and slowly taking off his shoes. “They wanted to talk about the Larry rumours.” Zayn winced. “They want you to put them down?”

“No, they think gay representation within the band would be good. They want us to pretend to date.” All three of the boys’ jaws dropped. “Did you agree? Is that even legal?”

“They wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t legal, and yeah, we agreed.” Niall got up and went to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed, patting his curls and talking to him quietly. Louis went to sit with Zayn and Liam, who turned the TV off entirely. “So, what does it mean? What are they gonna make you do?”

“Pap walks, staged dates, acting like a proper couple on stage, the whole 9 yards.”

“Like… kissing?”

“Yeah. And they want an official announcement, maybe even on stage.”

“What’s it gonna mean for the rest of us?”

“Nothing. Just pretend that this is normal.” Zayn sighed, running a hand through his hair and glancing at Harry’s bed where Niall had joined him under the covers. “Didn’t they want Harry to be some sort of womanizer?” Louis shuddered, remembering how hurt the younger boy had been when they’d told him. “I guess they decided that this is better representation.” Liam scowled and shook his head, reaching out to turn the TV back on and handing Louis a remote. “That’s bullshit,” he spat. “You shouldn’t have agreed.” Louis shrugged meekly, selecting a character and melting into the couch as the rainbow road music started up.

~~~~~

Louis stared out over the crowd as they screamed. “Alright, alright, next up we have a song we all know and love,” Liam explained to the fans, sparing Louis a glance. This was it, this was happening. “Here’s What Makes You Beautiful!” The screaming got louder and Louis looked at Harry across the stage, who shook his hair out and brushed it across his forehead. After his solo, they were going to kiss. It had been decided the night before during rehearsal, and Harry and Louis had been smart enough to not complain. The music started, and the clapping began. Louis sang in a trance, acting up what was about to happen by singing to Harry, and grabbing his hand when his solo came up. The fans were already losing it, but when Harry put his mic into its stand and grabbed Louis by his suspenders to kiss him, they screamed so loud Louis was sure he’d have permanent ear damage. They broke apart and Harry smiled weakly, reaching up to cup Louis’ cheek and peck his lips again. Louis grabbed Harry’s mic and held it up in between them, finishing the song together. “Well, I’d say that went well.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry mumbled, kissing the corner of Louis’ mouth. Louis giggled and touched their foreheads. Harry broke into his first real smile, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “That was fun. Next up, One Thing!” Liam said into his mic, mastering the ‘this is normal’ attitude. “Way to ruin the mood, Payno,” Louis said into his mic breathlessly. “Just because you want all the attention doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. Come on everyone, One Thing!” The fans just screamed louder, and Louis felt a hand slip into his. He blushed, getting his mic ready and smiling forward. Show business, right?

Chapter Text

Pretty soon, Larry Stylinson was as big as the band itself, if not bigger. Interviewers started supplying four chairs rather than five, since the happy couple would always share a seat. They almost always wore matching outfits, and stood entangled in each other during meet and greets. The two of them always seemed more calm when they were wrapped up in each other, whispering secrets and laughing over jokes no one else understood. There were still issues, of course. Management kept making them do more, act more in love. They made them share hotel rooms, and go out on dates near daily. Harry got more nervous, especially when Management started sending them out without security, letting them get mobbed. Only Louis was able to calm him down and get him outside. It quickly became obvious that the only times he was comfortable and happy was when he was on stage, or sitting through an interview, all when he was surrounded by everything that was Louis. The older boy was the only thing that kept him safe.

“Haz. Haz. Haz. Haz. Haz. Ha-“

“What?!”

“It’s alive!” Louis cheered, throwing his hands in the air. Harry looked torn between glaring and shaking his head fondly. “What do you want? And why are you in my house?”

“I have a key and your parents aren’t home. And management wants to speak to us.” Harry groaned, pulling his pillow around his head. “They spoke to us a month ago,” he whined, scrambling against the sheets when Louis grabbed him by the ankles and tried to drag him out of the bed. “Not all of us,” he grunted, dragging a defiant Harry to the bathroom. “Just you and me.”

“We spoke to them three months ago!”

“Yeah, well they seem to think our ‘relationship’ is ready to level up.” He bent down and picked Harry up, balancing him on his hip like a child, before dumping him on the counter. He collected his toothbrush, squeezed out the exact amount Harry liked, wet it and passed it to the younger boy. “We’re practically already married!” He said around his toothbrush, furrowing his eyebrows cutely and brushing more aggressively. “It’s all about money for them, Haz. They just want us to stay big.” He crossed the bathroom, starting to run water in the tub, getting it to the perfect temperature before plugging it. “It’s ridiculous, and it’s never going to make actual sense.” Harry huffed, spitting out his toothpaste and rinsing his mouth. “What do you think they’re going to make us do?”

“Oh, who knows. Accidentally release a sex tape, get married, introduce them to our secret child… something outrageous.” Louis balanced on the edge of the tub, dumping in Harry’s bath bomb and bubbles, mixing the water until it was perfect. The younger boy giggled, stripping down when Louis looked away and sank into the tub. “Alright, what’s the worst it could be?”

“Maybe they’ll have us fake break up, almost end the band, then get back together in some dramatic proclamation of love,” Louis proposed, spinning his finger in the air to get Harry to turn around. He picked up the shower head, wetting his hair and scrubbing shampoo in. “That’s a good one. Maybe they’ll put us on one of those swinger cruises.”

“That’s no fun! Be more creative! I think… they’re going to make a bunch of fake news reports saying we were arrested for public indecency after fucking in front of Buckingham palace.” Harry hummed, tipping his head back so Louis could rinse the shampoo out of his hair and massage the conditioner in. “Alright. Maybe they’ll have us publicly speak with PornHub about a collab.”

“See, that’s a good one! A bit vanilla, but better than nothing. Come on, give us another.” Harry fell silent, attempting to tap into the creativity Louis seemed to thrive on. “Arms up,” the older boy murmured quietly, squeezing body wash onto his hands. He obliged, sticking his arms into the air, letting him rub the florally scented soap all over. “Sit up,” Louis said, pouring out more into his palms. The water level was high enough to hide anything below his hips, so all Louis would see was his abnormal amount of nipples. He rubbed the soap across his chest and stomach, tracing across his waist and up his back, and only barely rubbing across his lower back. He handed Harry the bottle for his legs and bathing suit areas, still waiting for Harry’s idea. “I can’t think of anything,” he murmured sadly. “Well I can. I bet they’re going to send us to a red carpet event as a couple, and have you in a tight fitted dress.” Harry snorted, rinsing the soap off his body and the conditioner out of his hair. “Oh yeah, I’m sure you’d just love that.” Louis smirked, standing up to fetch a towel. “What makes you think I wouldn’t?” Harry blushed, taking the towel and wrapping it around himself as soon as Louis turned away. “Common sense, maybe?”

“Oh? Your common sense deceives you then.”

~~~~~~

Harry’s jaw dropped, and Louis frowned deeply. “No, he’s still a minor. We literally can’t.”

“Sure you can. We can sort the whole thing out, all you guys will have to do is sit there and look pretty.”

“No, I don’t consent to this! We’re not doing it,” Louis said firmly, crossing his arms and glaring at his manager. “Unfortunately, that’s not really your choice to make, Mr Tomlinson,” the man said, leaning forward on his elbows. “Of course it is! You can’t control us like this!” He smirked, patting the contract they signed the first day. “Actually, we can. You’re doing it. No arguments.” Louis opened his mouth to do the exact opposite, but one of Harry’s hands settled on the crook of his elbow. “When?” He asked quietly. “As soon as possible. Then we’ll set up some paps to get the news out.”

“If you were to give me a date, when would it be?” He shrugged. “Tuesday next week?” Louis squawked, slamming his hands down on his armrests, but Harry spoke first. Ever so quietly, “okay,” left his lips. “I should go, then.” The man nodded, collecting his papers and shaking both their hands. “We’ll see you Monday to give you keys and such. Pack quickly, boys.” Harry dragged Louis out before he could bark out some smartass remark that would get them both fired.

“I think we need to speak with my parents,” he said quietly. He never raised his voice around management people, and it wouldn’t wear off naturally for a few hours. There was, of course, the option of getting him happy and laughing, but that might not work. Louis sighed, nodding. He’d had him happy only 30 minutes ago, but that damned man had to fuck it all up. He slid an arm around Harry’s waist and led him to the elevator. Living with Harry wouldn’t be bad at all. It would be wonderful, in fact. But he was only 16. He should be with his parents. They ducked their heads when they left the building, pushing through paparazzi to get to their car. “Where to?” The driver asked, glancing over his shoulder and through the partition to smile at them. “Want to go to my house, or talk to your parents?” Harry shuffled closer to him, curling into his side. “Your house.”

“My house.” The driver nodded, starting up the car and carefully driving forward, making sure not to hit any of the paps. “Thanks,” Louis said, hugging Harry closer to him. The driver nodded, and the partition slowly slid up. Louis buckled up, and attempted to wrap Harry in a seat belt, but gave up and just held him in his arms. He slowly slid down, his head coming to rest in Louis’ lap and arms winding around his waist. The older boy ran his fingers through his hair, curling some hair around a finger and stroking his thumb along the baby fat still clinging to Harry’s cheeks. “Do you think it’ll be an apartment or an actual house?” Louis asked, switching from playing with his hair to running his hand along his shoulders, down to his waist and back up. He shrugged, glancing up at him for only a second. “I hope it’s a house. Then we could have a nice little garden, maybe get a cat… really play into the couple role.” Harry giggled, hiding his face in Louis’ thighs. “You know, come home from work, find my glorious boyfriend in the garden, planting some beautiful flowers,” he tickled Harry’s ribs, finally seeing Happy Harry emerge when the younger boy giggled a bit louder. “Dinner on the table, kids in bed by 9:00… nice picturesque suburban lifestyle, right?”

“Of course,” Harry said, smiling so wide his face could’ve broken in two. “How many kids should we have, love of my life?”

“Oh, at least 18.”

“Mhm, 12 as a solid minimum.” He laughed, nuzzling his face into Louis’ stomach. As self conscious as he was about his tummy, as long as it was Harry touching it, he didn’t mind. “What colour should we paint our house?”

“Blue,” he said immediately. “Light blue.” Louis smirked, collecting three bits of the boy's hair to start braiding in. “How many rooms? For our many, many children?”

“Well, at least 2. Unless management wants us to share a bed, for some reason.” He expected him to become upset at the mention of their management, but instead he just smiled at their joke. “They’ll probably expect us to do a twitcam live in the same bed or something.”

“Yeah, but that’s easy.” They slowed to a stop in front of Louis’ house, and luckily there were no paps waiting for them. “Thanks!” They chirped, shuffling out of the car and rushing into the house. There weren’t any visible paps, but those weirdos could pop up anywhere, ring light, microphone and expensive cameras in tow. “My room, or somewhere else?”

“I wanna make a pizza,” Harry said determinedly. “Alright, I’m pretty sure I have yeast.” Harry grinned, slipping his shoes off, kissing Louis’ cheek and skipping to the kitchen. After just about 6 months of “dating,” (9, as far as the public was concerned), Harry and Louis had become even more touchy than before. Even when they weren’t on camera or in public, they were almost always touching. Whether it be a hand on Harry’s waist, or lips on Louis’ jaw, they were always touching. Zayn had gathered the courage to ask him why they were always touching, but Louis calmly and totally not rushedly explained that they were so used to being touchy, that it was hard to turn it off. He neglected to tell his friend about the strange aching he felt whenever the younger boy wasn’t around. Harry let out a happy squeal when he found the yeast, tearing Louis from his thoughts. He let out a soft chuckle, finally kicking off his shoes and following the sounds of Harry’s humming to the kitchen, where he was sure to be cooking up a mess.

Harry moaned softly as he took a bite of his pizza. Louis grinned, copying him with a bite of his own. “Oh damn. That’s really good, Haz.”

“See, this is why you don’t doubt me, Tomlinson.”

“Never again,” he murmured, staring at his pizza fondly. Harry giggled again, taking another bite, and starting to hum the tune of one of their unreleased songs. It was times like these Louis found it hard to remember that they weren’t actually dating. Watching the younger boy sway back and forth backstage while murmuring song lyrics, seeing him dance with Niall, or cook for them all and smile when he got showered in praise. They ate in silence, staring at each other over the lips of their glasses when they took sips of water, not even looking away when they were caught. Harry finished his water with a sigh, staring down at his food. “I should go talk to my parents.”

“Want me to come?”

“No. I think… I think it’ll be better coming from only me.” Louis nodded, reaching under the table to squeeze his knee. “I’ll drive you home? Or should I call a driver?” Harry winced at the thought. His family didn’t really approve of Louis, and didn’t enjoy seeing him. They didn’t like that their baby boy was being forced into a fake relationship, and the fact that it was with a man only made it worse for them. The only one who liked him even remotely was Gemma, who liked talking about The Fray with him. And she enjoyed informing Louis that he was in love with her little brother, which was absolutely absurd. Louis smiled at the look in his face, patting his curls affectionately. “I’ll call a driver.”

“Good idea.” He rolled his eyes with a laugh, strolling off in search of his phone.

A few hours later, Harry requested they go on FaceTime to talk for a little while. “How’d they take it?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow. “Not well.” The younger boy’s face was incredibly pixelated, and his voice was choppy. Louis frowned, watching him glance at his door, the only barrier between him and his yelling parents. “But they can’t stop it, so I don’t know why they fought it.”

“I mean, I fought it.” Harry chuckled, poorly attempting to conceal a smile. “Yeah you did. You did a horrible job of it, but at least you tried.” The older boy pouted, and the green eyed boy smiled again. “Ben called me, and he said they already have a place for us, by the way.”

“Oh? Where?”

“Somewhere in London. A small house in one of those little picturesque neighbourhoods.”

“Ooh, fun. No room for our 18 children though.”

“Well yes, that is the downside.” Harry attempted a smile, glancing at his door again. Louis could see him fighting to keep his hands down, not wanting to chew his knuckles in front of the older boy. He’d caused himself to bleed on multiple occasions, and he had been trying to get him to stop. But, it was obvious he needed it right now. He flicked up an eyebrow, waving a hand dramatically. “Just do it, I know you want to.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. But if you start to bleed you have to promise me you’ll stop.” Harry nodded eagerly, bringing his hand up to his mouth, pulling at the skin of his knuckles with his teeth. Most of his nervous habits weren’t very visible. Things like chewing on the inside of his cheek, tapping his feet on the ground or tugging at his curls and face. His most noticeable habit was singing, but he only did that before shows. “When should we start packing?” He asked, voice slightly muffled. “Well, Ben said we’d be moved in by next Wednesday, starting the move on Tuesday. So probably start packing by Saturday?” Harry huffed, frowning softly. “I’m probably going to have to enlist Niall’s help.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart, I already got dibs on Liam, and my dad’s helping too.”

“It’s unlikely my parents will help me. They don’t want me leaving anyways.” Louis sighed, tilting his head back. He was sad Harry’s parents didn’t like him, but he completely understood why they didn’t want their son leaving. “I wish they would’ve waited until you were 18.”

“Like you said, they don’t care about that. Just making money.”

“I’m allowed to wish, aren’t I?”

“I guess.” The conversation lulled, and Harry slipped under his covers, nestling into his pillow. “At least I get to look forward to less fighting.” Louis smiled sadly and nodded.

Chapter Text

The house was quite nice, with a large kitchen, living room, bathroom, two bedrooms and what would eventually be a guest room. There was a basement with lots and lots of room, and a spacious back yard. Harry, as sad as he was to leave his parents, absolutely loved it. Especially the kitchen. Management had felt a little bad for uprooting them from their lives, shoving them into new ones where they were around each other constantly, and so attempted to appease them by purchasing any furniture or appliances they wanted. This meant that the kitchen was chock full of all of the appliances Harry had ever wanted. “Honestly, you should just leave 1D and start a bakery,” Louis said, head balanced on his hand as he watched Harry bake. He was seated at the bar in the kitchen, making up a shopping list of alcohol. They had a bar, and a wine fridge, and storage shelves for bottles, may as well put them to good use. “You’d miss me too much,” he said cheekily, brushing flour on Louis' nose. He grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss to the pad of his finger. “Well now you just have flour on your lips.”

“Oh well,” he said with a shrug, scanning his list. “Do you want anything while I’m out?”

“I wouldn’t mind some tea.”

“Bag tea or in a cup tea?”

“Bag.” Louis nodded and got up, rounding the kitchen island/bar to kiss Harry’s cheek. “I’ll be back in about half an hour.”

“Okay,” Harry chirped, smiling back at him. Louis smiled tiredly, kissing his forehead and ruffling his hair before finally leaving. The younger boy was baking treats for their neighbours, who had all helped the movers set things up, thinking they were the new neighbours. He wasn’t 100% sure how the neighbours would react to Harry Styles showing up with a box of cookies, but maybe he’d get lucky and they just wouldn’t know him.

~~~~~

Three days later, the paparazzi stories got out, and Twitter blew up. People were fawning over the relationship, while others made gross jokes about how they definitely shared a bedroom and what went on in it. Louis took Harry’s phone, hiding it in his room so the younger boy couldn’t read anything hateful or gross. They did a twitcam on the 5th day, pretending to be about to go to sleep, dressed in pyjamas and eyes droopy. The fans ate it up, ranting about it everywhere. Niall loved to inform them of every new fanfic he found, while Liam loved to complain to them about how many girls were stopping him for pictures, just to squeal about them the whole time. Zayn just watched it all silently, not knowing how to react. After a few twitcams and hundreds more pap shoots, the drama surrounding the move died down slightly. There were, of course, still people talking about it, but the magazine covers of the two of them shopping together had nearly disappeared. “Lou!” Harry called into the house, setting their plates down on the table. “Yeah?” Louis called back from his office. “Dinner!”

“Just a second!” Harry rolled his eyes fondly, setting the cutlery down. Since moving in together, the two of them fell into very domestic roles. Harry did most of the cooking and cleaning while Louis kept up appearances outside and for interviews, claiming Harry was on vocal rest. Currently, he was fighting to be able to write songs for their next album. He glanced up as the older boy descended from the upper floor, rolling his shoulders. “How’s it going?”

“They’re close to breaking. I hope.” He walked over, draping his body over Harry, hiding his face in the younger boy's neck. He giggled, reaching up and stroking his hair. “What’re you doing?”

“Recharging.”

“How about…” he pulled Louis’ arms off of him, leading him to his spot at the table, “you recharge with some food. Maybe a beer? Wine?” The older boy tilted his head back, smiling up at him. “Thank you,” he whispered. Harry patted his shoulder, shuffling off in search of Louis’ favourite beer. “Who were you talking to today?”

“Ben and the writers.”

“And what was the final verdict?”

“A heavy maybe. They want to see samples of what we want to write beforehand. If it’s shit, it’s a no, if it’s good… they’ll consider it.” Harry nodded, pouring the beer into a cup and handing it to the older boy. “Do we all need to write, or just you?”

“I think they’d like us all to write, but if you don’t want to I don’t think they’ll make you.” Louis hummed, taking a bite. “It’s so good, Haz,” he moaned, throwing his head back. Harry giggled, staring at his neck for a moment, before glancing away with a red face. “Thank you,” he hummed, taking a small bite to chew for himself. Louis was done quickly, a sated smile crossing his face. “Am I feeding you well enough?” Harry joked, taking his plate to get him more. “You’re feeding me too well,” Louis corrected, taking his plate back with a pleased grin. He shrugged, taking a slightly larger bite and watching the older boy eat his new serving at a normal pace, with sips of beer in between. “The boys are coming over tonight. Want their writing samples then?”

“That would be perfect.”

“I’ll warn them, then.” For them, home life was simple. It was like they were already married. ‘Playing house’ as Gemma called it.

~~~~~

Louis came home, high on his win. Finally, they were allowed to write. Under heavy supervision, and they weren’t allowed to object if the other writers changed anything, but it was something. He burst through the door to talk Harry’s ear off about it, but was shocked into silence when he saw a small cat sitting on his shoulder, watching his every move as the younger boy cooked dinner. He shut the door, padding into the kitchen and peering at the cat. “And who’s this?” He asked, grinning when Harry jumped. “Hi,” he said smoothly, gesturing to the cat. “Where’d your friend come from?” The green eyed boy smiled, carefully lifting the cat up by its armpits (do cats have armpits?) and holding it out to Louis. “This is Lennon. I found him outside this morning, and he doesn’t have a chip, collar or tattoo. I posted a found add on Facebook, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s ours.” Louis took the cat, one hand supporting its bum and the other holding it by its armpits. “Lennon, like the Beatle?” Harry nodded excitedly. “Isn’t he adorable?” The older boy stared at the small creature, scanning his paws, ears, eyes and tail. He was very small, probably small enough to fit in a teacup. He was white and black, with green eyes, a pink nose and black paw pads. Louis narrowed his eyes. “He’s deceptively small.” Harry frowned, plucking Lennon from his hands and returning him to his shoulder. “You’re deceptively small,” he murmured quietly, mockingly. Louis raised an eyebrow, reaching out to grab his hips, pulling him back towards him. The curly boys back hit Louis’ chest, arms springing up to cross in front of his chest. “What was that?” Louis asked lowly, thumbs pressing against his hips, shuffling his shirt up to touch right against his warm skin. Harry practically squeaked, back of his neck turning red with the rest of his face. Lennon turned on his shoulder to sniff at Louis’ face, head butting Harry’s ear gently. “I didn’t say anything,” he said in a high voice. The older boy tightened his grip slightly, rubbing his thumbs slowly. “You sure?” He whispered, dipping his head down to press his lips against Harry’s jaw. Lennon batted a paw against his ear softly. The younger boy stumbled against him, whimpering. A soft buzzing interrupted them. Louis sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and picking up. “Management wants us there within the hour,” he said, glaring at his phone. The younger boy brought Lennon down into his arms. “Why?” Louis shrugged sadly. “It’s going to get worse.”

“It always does.”

~~~~~~

“No.” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “We’ve already established, you can’t say no.”

“Too bad. No.” The man’s eye literally twitched, and he looked ready to jump out of his seat to strangle him. “If you do anything to fuck this up, we’ll just dock your pay until you’re removed from the band.”

“Do it,” Louis hissed challengingly, leaning forward in his seat to stare into the man’s eyes. He, in turn, also leaned forward. “If you leave the band, we’ll just put Harry with someone even worse,” he whispered. “Maybe he’ll get hooked on drugs. Recovery stories are cute. Maybe he’s actually straight, with an affinity for older women. Maybe a motorcycle, or a love for F1 racing. Something nice and dangerous. I can get worse,” he threatened. “If you want to keep your little boyfriend safe, don’t fuck this up.” Louis swallowed, sitting back in his chair slowly. He nodded approvingly, and straightened his already perfectly straight tie. “Now. Interactions are dropping. Sales are steady, but we don’t want steady, we want rising. So, you two are going to draw in more people.” Louis shuddered. He knew where this was going. “Get a little dirty on stage. Whispering, winking, grabbing, whatever the hell you want. If it gets interactions and sales up, do it.” He winked at Harry, greasy hair flinging in the air with the sudden turn to face the other boy. “Maybe lose the shirt for a little while on stage. Your abs were trending for a bit.” Harry’s arms crossed over his stomach, and he ducked this head. The man turned back to Louis, a gross smile on his face. “We all know Louis enjoyed that.”

“You wrote the fucking script for me,” he seethed, digging his nails into the armrests. “Now, now, no need to get feisty.” He practically growled, forcing himself back into the chair. “We need you to be more flavourful. More exciting, more-“

“Sexual,” Harry interrupted in a weak voice. “You want us to be sexual.”

“Something like that,” the man said, nodding. Louis glared, gripping the armrests of his chair with white knuckles. “Is that all?” He asked, voice tight. The older man nodded, interlacing his fingers on his desk and leaning back. “You’ll be sent some boundaries, don’t cross them, don't touch them, we don’t want a lawsuit on our hands. Just get interactions up.” Both boys nodded stiffly. “You can cue in the other boys.” They nodded again and he groaned. “Do I need to spell it out for you? Go!” Louis was up first, grabbing Harry’s wrist and dragging him out. They rushed through the building and back to the car, where Louis just said ‘home,’ quickly before sliding the partition up. “Vile, vile, man,” Louis hissed, tugging Harry towards him. Harry went easily, collapsing against his chest to whimper softly. Since signing the damned contract, he’d become some sort of pawn in management’s game to keep Louis quiet and subdued. They’d threatened many things, him in the middle of all of it. They never went after Liam, Zayn or Niall, only Harry. He didn’t get it. Louis’ arms hugged him close, lips whispering gentle praise against his hairline, mixed in with a few healthy apologies. Docked pay for misbehaving didn’t scare the older boy. He already knew that even with docked pay he’d be able to support himself and his family. But anything regarding Harry terrified him. Liam, Zayn and Niall knew nothing about it. They assumed things were okay with management, seeing as it was easier to believe that.

The car rolled to a stop outside of their house. One of their neighbours was outside, mowing his lawn. He stared at the large black car that seemed to constantly be outside the young couples house, frowning. “C’mon Haz, let’s go,” Louis murmured. They shuffled out, waving whatever driver they had off, before heading towards the house. Louis’ arm was wound tightly around Harry’s waist, the younger boy's head resting on his shoulder. “Hello boys!” Their neighbour called cheerfully. Louis pasted on a grin, waving animatedly. “Hey Ron!”

“Where’re you guys coming from?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. Louis turned to face him, keeping his grin pasted on his face. Harry was too sad to pretend, and just pressed his chest to Louis’, hiding his face in his neck. “Oh, you know, just the boss.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, winking. Ron nodded slowly, watching Harry wind around Louis as much as he could. “This one’s all tuckered out,” he said softly, rubbing his back and kissing against his ear. “Tough boss?” Ron asked, accepting the lie easily. The blue eyed boy scoffed, leaning down slightly to slide his hands under Harry’s knees, picking him up and rubbing a hand down his back. “He’s a real bastard. But, he’s great. Best in the business.” The older man nodded, rocking back and forth on his feet. “What do you two do for work?”

“Oh, we’re in a band.” Ron clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “All the kids these days want to be in bands, and end up on the streets. Let me tell you son, you’re better off behind the counter at Tesco than slamming away on a drum set.” Louis chuckled, adjusting Harry. “Ever heard of One Direction?”

“My daughters may have mentioned them. That trendy boy band, right?” Louis bobbed his head in a yes, smiling. “That’s us.” Ron’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re world famous!” He declared, wondering if he could get a few autographs and sell them for a bit of extra cash. Louis hummed proudly, kissing Harry’s temple. “So sorry to cut this short, Ron, but I think I’ve gotta get him in bed, or at least get some coffee in him.”

“Of course, of course, sorry for bothering you.”

“You weren’t a bother. Just not good timing. We’ll chat some other time, yeah?” The older man nodded, turning back to his lawn mower. Louis carried Harry back inside, plopping him on the counter. He was crying softly, tears having already moistened Louis’ collar. “Hey…” he murmured, wiping his tears with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.”

“I miss being a kid,” he whispered, letting his face scrunch. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish you could’ve been one for longer.” The younger boy stretched his legs out, hooking them behind Louis’ thighs and pulling him closer, arms following suit with his shoulders once he was close enough. “Wanna go to bed?” Louis asked, hugging him around his waist. “Yeah.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Yeah.” Louis pulled him forward, off the counter. Harry’s legs wrapped around his hips, and his arms hooked under the younger boys arse. He carried him to his bedroom, which was closer. “Stay with me, please,” he begged when he was deposited in the older boy's bed. Louis smiled sadly at him, kicking his shoes off, and tugging his off for him before joining him in the bed. He sat up against the headrest, Harry laying in between his legs, arms wrapped around his waist and face hidden away under his jumper, nose against the fabric of his shirt on his stomach. Louis ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing against his scalp gently. “When are we back on tour?” He asked, voice muffled. “Next month,” Louis sighed. “So I have a month to be a kid?”

“If that’s what you want, baby, then yeah.” Harry made a sad sound, pressing his face further into Louis’ skin.

Chapter Text

For the rest of the month, Louis took Harry on little outings disguised as dates for paps and fans. But really, they were excuses for Harry to get to be young. They went to the arcade, the beach, a bookstore, a candy store, they got clothes for Lennon and dressed him up, and even dragged the boys to an amusement park Harry went to when he was younger. Fans loved seeing them ‘be free’ for the last month before tour, thinking they were being controlled by management to be less lovey. Little did they know, it was the exact opposite.

The first show of the tour was in London, so Louis woke Harry up at 5 AM, loaded him into the car, got their bags in the back, buckled Lennon's carrier in between them, and gave the driver the address of the hotel while Harry slept against the window. The rest of the boys would be meeting them there, each with their own cars and drivers. Louis sighed, settling against his own window, letting his eyes slip closed, slowly, slowly, until the car rocked him to sleep.

They were supposed to meet up in a conference room first. Say hi, get their hugs out, and introduce the boys to their furry companion. Harry collapsed Lennon’s carrier, stuffing it into his suitcase, and convincing Louis to turn his hoodie around to hold the cat in the hood. (He’d been bothering him once while he was trying to write, trying to get attention, so he’d dumped him in his hood, and he fell asleep. Now he loved it). Liam and Niall had already arrived, and Zayn, ever the mysterious one, would probably end up fashionably late.

They dragged their bags through the lobby, picking up their keys, and getting the directions to the conference room. Tiredly, they shoved the door open. Immediately, Niall was running at them. Louis stepped out of the way, grinning as he tackled Harry in a hug. “Hey,” Harry whined, drawing out the ‘y’ and glaring at him cutely. “Cat,” Louis defended weakly, shrugging. Niall’s head swung up. “Cat?” Louis picked up Lennon, holding him out. “Cat.”

“Where’d you even get a cat?” Liam asked from his seat at the head of the long conference table. “The outside world,” Louis said dramatically. “Have you heard of it? It’s quite wild and interesting.”

The boy rolled his eyes, looking back down to his phone. Louis looked back to the tangled mess of boy on the floor, grabbing Niall by his ankles and dragging him off, helping Harry stand up. “Wow, thanks Lou,” the Irish boy said drily. “Love you too.”

“I have to help my boyfriend, Nialler, certainly you understand.” He rolled his eyes, shutting the door and dragging their bags to the corner, where the other bags had been stowed. “So, who’s the newest member of the band?” Liam asked, gesturing to Lennon. Harry giggled, carefully removing him from Louis’ front facing hood and placing him on the table. His tiny stage had passed, and he was now roughly the size of a shoe. “This is Lennon! I found him outside about a month and a half ago, and no one responded to my found ad so he’s ours now.”

He sat down, patting the spot next to him for Louis. As soon as he sat, and his hands were on the table, Lennon was batting at them, flicking his tail as though he were hunting them. He had as many interests as a cat could. He loved to fight, play, he loved hearing Harry and Louis sing, enjoyed watching the birds, and had an innate obsession with Louis. He clambered up his arm, settling on his shoulder. The boy groaned, rolling his eyes. Liam chuckled, propping his head in his hand. “He really likes Louis,” Harry explained with a smile, scratching in between his ears. “He likes sleeping on me,” Louis corrected. “Almost like you,” he said with a grin. Harry just giggled, petting the cat softly.

Zayn arrived 15 minutes later, so quiet he managed to sit down before anyone even noticed he was there. They all jumped when he spoke, heads whipping in his direction. “Where’s the cat from? Didn’t know we had a petting zoo.”

“Let’s get a donkey!” Niall chirped in response. “The only logical next step,” Louis said drily. Niall frowned at him, pouting when he grinned. “No, honestly, where’d the cat come from?”

Harry smiled brightly, plucking the cat from Louis’ shoulder and holding him out for Zayn to pet. “I found him outside. His name’s Lennon!”

“Like the Beatle? John Lennon?” He hummed, nodding excitedly. The golden eyed boy smirked, scratching Lennon’s chin experimentally. “Cute. Don’t know about a donkey though.” Niall groaned. “You people don’t let me do anything.” Liam laughed, patting his hair.

One bed. That was the first thing Louis noticed when he entered his and Harry’s hotel room. There was only one bed. Since the start of their ‘relationship’ they’d had to share a hotel room, which had always been a lot of fun, but not once had they been given one bed. Louis scanned the rest of the room, and let out a breath of relief when he saw the couch. “Fuckin’ management,” he muttered under his breath, dragging his bag next to the dresser. “Actin’ like they want us to actually have sex.”

Harry, who’d ridden the elevator with Niall to talk about the pub down the road that he couldn’t legally attend, entered behind him, frowning at him searching through various areas of the room. “What on earth are you looking for?” He asked, closing the door and setting Lennon down, who immediately started sniffing the nearest objects. “Blankets.”

“Why? There’s blankets on the bed.” His eyes widened. “There’s only one bed.”

“Yup. But, there’s a couch.”

“Is it a pull out?”

“Let me check.” He pulled one of the cushions up, frowning at the not-pull-out underneath.

“Nope.”

Harry frowned, crossing his arms. “Why would management set us up with only one bed?”

“Who knows. Sexual tension?” The younger boy sighed, shaking his head. “I’m going to call the front desk and see if there’s a way we could get a room with another bed.”

“Haz, One Direction is playing in this city tonight and tomorrow. You really think they have spare rooms? Just help me look for blankets.” Harry sighed once more, tapping his foot against the floor.

“I’m not sleeping on that couch.”

“Of course you’re not. I am.”

“No, you’re not. We’ll just share the bed. We are not performing with one of us sleep deprived.”

“It’s fine, I pro-“

“Louis. You are not sleeping on the couch. It’s adorable you think you are, but no.”

The older boy made a pained sound, and a look of hurt flashed across Harry’s face. “Do you really not want to share a bed with me that bad?”

“What, no!” He rushed over to the younger boy to cup his face, looking deep into his eyes. “I promise, it’s nothing against you. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I am actively offering up the bed for us to share. Besides,” he glanced away, face growing warm in Louis’ hands. “I sleep better when you cuddle me.” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, cocking a hip out and balancing a hand on it. “And I’m the adorable one? Delusional, you are.”

He kissed the tip of Harry’s nose and grabbed his bag, dragging it over next to his before kicking his shoes off and climbing in bed, throwing his hoodie in the general direction of the couch. “C’mon. Let’s nap till rehearsal.”

Harry smiled, kicking his shoes off and burrowing under the sheets and into his side, sighing happily when Louis’ arm got thrown over his hip, thumb brushing against his exposed skin. Harry hummed softly, nosing against Louis’ neck. “Lennon,” he called tiredly, throwing his hand in the air and snapping. He jumped onto the bed with a soft ‘mrrow,’ happily settling onto Louis’s ear. “Didja set an alarm?” Harry asked. “Mhm. His name’s Liam.” He giggled, tangling their legs together and curling his hands under his chin. “G’night.” Louis hummed, hugging him tightly.

~~~~~~

“Oi! Rehearsal is in half an hour, let’s get moving!” Liam called, throwing a pillow at them. Harry jumped awake, grabbing Lennon before he could bolt for the door. “How’d you get in here?!”

“Hotel manager gave me an extra key just in case Louis was a dumbass and fell asleep immediately.”

“I’m tired,” Louis whined, drawing out the ‘i’. Lennon pounced at him, biting at his eyebrow. He screeched, rolling off the bed dramatically, sighing gratefully when the cat didn’t fall with him. Liam stared, raising an eyebrow. “That was more effective than Harry. Noted.”

He turned on his heel, shutting the door behind him. Louis flopped onto the floor, groaning. “I hate him.” Harry snorted, getting up and dragging him upwards to stand. “No you don’t. Now c’mon, we gotta get dressed.”

Louis sighed, but obliged, stepping away to dig through his suitcase. Harry followed him, finding his clothes quickly and bustling off to the loo to change. After the first tour where every outfit was curated for them and they always looked like they were off to boarding school as soon as their songs were over, all 5 boys had fought to plan their own outfits. It normally ended up with only Zayn and Liam looking anywhere near decent, since Zayn basically just gave Liam clothes. Niall normally ended up in a white shirt and skinny jeans, Harry and Louis often in variations of the same thing.

Louis smiled at his selection, pulling a Pink Floyd shirt and black skinny jeans on. Lou, their stylist, would end up styling his hair, but he styled it up quickly, just in case there were fans in the area. “Are you decent?” Harry asked from the bathroom. “Yup!”

“How do these stupid buttons work?”

The younger boy asked, frowning at the blazer in his hands. “You’re not supposed to do it up, Haz,” Louis said with a chuckle. He frowned, pulling it over his white t-shirt and scuffing his shoes against the carpet.

“Is this good?” He asked, ducking his head and spreading his arms to show off his outfit. He was in a white shirt, confusing beige blazer, and black skinny jeans. Louis smiled, tilting his chin up and brushing his fingers through his hair, styling it loosely. “It’s perfect,” he said, kissing his forehead. The curly haired boy giggled, leaning down to kiss Lennon on the head before grabbing Louis’ hand and dragging him off.

~~~~~

Lou styled their hair, did some quick makeup, and pursed her lips as she scanned their outfits. They were all deemed passable, but a blue button up was thrown at Niall to put over his ‘boring’ shirt. They checked the set list, did sound check, rehearsal, got their ear pieces hooked up, and let Niall lead them through useless and probably fake vocal warm ups that always ended in him cackling on the ground. The chatter and screams of fans were a constant hum in the background, easy to notice and hard to ignore. “This sucks,” Louis groaned, glancing at his phone for the 50th time. “Of course it does,” Zayn mumbled, frowning at his phone screen. “Something has to. Otherwise, something horrible might happen.”

He bent his fingers creepily, wiggling them in Harry’s direction. “Poor baby Harry might spontaneously combust. And we don’t want that, now do we?”

Niall giggled from his makeup chair, where Lou was lecturing him on safe lovebites, and how him enjoying being marked up shouldn’t be her problem, as she beat a small bruise out of existence with concealer. “If anyone is going to combust, it’s gonna be Zayn,” Louis deadpanned, gesturing vaguely at his hair. “How many litres of hair spray did that take? 5?”

Zayn scoffed, while Niall cackled. “At least I didn’t have to wear suspenders.”

“They made my ass look good. Your fisherman chic jacket didn’t do shit.”

“‘Course it did,” Liam said in a teasing voice. “It made him look fisherman chic.”

“I hate you all.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Harry protested, glaring at Louis when he tugged him into his lap. “Good point. I hate all of you but Harry.”

Louis rolled his eyes and Liam giggled, blowing kisses in Zayn’s direction. “Don’t worry, Zayn, fisherman chic suits you,” Lou hummed with a wink. He just groaned, flipping them all off.

~~~~~

“Boys,” one of the stage managers said, covering the mic that connected to everyone’s ear pieces. “You’re up.” They nodded, standing up and getting ready. Lou sped up, powdering over Niall’s love bite. “Honestly, tell your partner to keep their teeth to themselves. You bruise so dark! I can’t fix everything!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll fend them off.” He chuckled, jumping off the makeup chair and dodging the makeup sponge she threw at him, running towards his band mates. She grumbled, starting to clean up her products as they walked off. “No more marks! From any of you!” She called after them. “Yes, Lou!” They all called back, jogging up the gangway to the stage. She huffed, stuffing her things away.

The screaming got louder as they got closer to the stage. Snippets of chants, words, or singing could be deciphered, but it was mostly just nonsensical screams. Liam stopped them before they got on stage, putting his hand out. “On three?” He asked breathlessly. They all copied, layering their hands together. “One, two, three!” They chanted, grinning as they threw their hands up. “All right, we’re gonna have a good show, and we’re gonna have an amazing tour, and…”

“And we’re gonna fuck shit up,” Louis said, wrapping an arm around Harry and tugging him into his side. Liam glared, but the other three nodded eagerly. “Fine, yes we’ll… do that. Now let’s go!”

They put their ear pieces in and ran on stage, waving at all the fans. “Hello London!” Niall screeched, hopping up and down. They all screamed back aimlessly, and he grinned, glancing over his shoulder at the other boys, who rolled their eyes. “First concert of the tour!” Louis said excitedly, tugging Harry comically closer to him. “Gay,” someone in the crowd called. “Yes, thank you for noticing,” Harry said into Louis’ mic, giggling softly when the older boy pinched his hip. “Oi, quit with the cuddling on stage, we have a job to do,” Liam said with a mock glare. “Oh right… new songs!” The fans screamed in response, waving their signs around. A few pride flags were dotted around, and Harry smiled softly at seeing them. “We actually wrote a few of these, didn’t we boys?”

“I wrote the best one!” Niall said immediately. Louis rolled his eyes. “No, mine are totally better, mister ‘I want you to rock me’.”

“Just because yours have sentiment and were written for someone you love, doesn’t mean they’re better.” Louis raised an eyebrow, and Zayn rolled his eyes, groaning. “Let’s just get started, yeah?” The music for Last First Kiss started, and Louis smirked at Niall from across the stage. I win, he mouthed, flashing a middle finger subtly, hand pressed to Harry’s hip.

Chapter Text

The after-show adrenaline was always… hectic. Liam, for whatever reason, always ended up doing push-ups on the bus when they headed back to the hotel. Niall got jittery, and had to bounce around, giggling and screaming, being loud and annoying and very himself. Zayn was… well he was Zayn, he mostly just sat there and stared, smiling whenever something funny happened. Louis and Harry always ended up wrapped up in each other, grinning and saying things only they understood. More than once, Harry had fallen asleep and had to be carried inside by Louis. A few times, Zayn fell asleep, and Niall and Liam had to drag him inside together, carefully avoiding fans, and somehow managing not to drop or wake him. This time was one of the times Harry passed out. Adrenaline hit him like a truck, but the drop hit him like a bullet train. He’d get sleepy-giggly, then just plain sleepy, then he’d be on Louis, fast asleep against his shoulder. It was the most effective way to carry him in. “You guys are adorable,” Niall cooed, smiling at the way Louis’ head lolled against Harry’s. He may not fall asleep, but he was still always tired. “So we’ve been told,” he muttered sleepily. His eyes slipped closed, and Niall snapped a quick photo, hiding his phone when his eyes opened again. “Stay awake until we’re back, Lou,” Liam said, panting through his push-ups. “We’re not carrying you and Harry inside, we do not have enough manpower for that.”

He stuck his tongue out, rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s back.

~~~~~~

When they reached the hotel, Louis carefully and quietly carried Harry through the lobby, shushing a girl who squealed at the sight of them. He could hear her taking a photo of them as he walked Harry to the elevator. He placed him on their bed, and pulled off his uncomfortable shoes, changing him into his pyjamas, (a grey Eyore shirt that fell nearly to his knees, and soft pink sleep shorts), and carefully maneuvered him under the blankets. He grumbled in his sleep, hugging his pillow close. Lennon watched from the bedside table, tilting his head when Louis pressed a finger to his lips. He rushed about to get himself ready for bed, the cat following him around the whole time. Finally, he flicked off the lamp, and climbed into bed next to his boyfriend.

~~~~~

“Did you change my clothes?” Harry asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Louis was holding a mug, curled up at the desk in the hotel room, reading one of the books the younger boy was forcing him to read. He glanced up, reading glasses falling down his nose. “Yeah. Did you not want me to? That’s what I normally do.”

He grunted, swinging his legs off the bed and padding over to him. The blue eyed boy stared at him, shoving his glasses back up. His curls were sleep-ruffled, and he smiled at his friend, tilting his head. “I forgot you wore glasses,” he chuckled. “I thought you were going to come over here and hit me.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” He frowned, eyebrows crinkling. “I don’t like hitting people.”

“I don’t know. I stripped you. Are you okay with that?”

“It’s not like you’re going to assault me, Lou.”

He shrugged. “I trust you.”

Louis smiled, and placed his book down, folding his glasses on the cover. “The boys want to eat breakfast with us, so go get dressed,” he said, smiling softly. Harry frowned. “What, I can’t wear this?”

The older boy chuckled, and stood up, brushing his fingers through his curls momentarily. “Of course you can. But if you were going to change, you can.”

“Nope. I’m going to go down to the restaurant in this,” he said determinedly. “Okay,” he said, grinning. “I’ll go put some shoes on, and we can get going.” He nodded, and spun on his heel to brush his teeth. Louis chuckled again, and went off in search of socks.

~~~~~~

Liam was the only one at the table when they made it down. He grinned and waved them over. Louis sat across from him, pulling the younger boy into his lap. Harry leaned against his chest, happily settling with his head in the crook of his neck. “You should really check out the tea menu, Lou, they’ve got some real good ones,” Liam said, holding out a two-page booklet. “Yorkshire?” He asked curiously, taking the menu the brown eyed boy passed over. “That’s all you ever get, why don’t you try something new,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I like it!” He protested, pouting. Harry giggled, and reached up to scratch his scalp gently. “You could like other things.”

“I do like other things, tea is just non-negotiable.”

“You are such a picky human being.”

“Deal with it.”

“Are you guys arguing about tea again?” Niall groaned, dragging a disgruntled looking Zayn from the elevator. “It’s not my fault! Liam is the one bringing it up!” Louis complained, turning to stare at them. “You provoke him and you know it,” the Irish lad said, leading Zayn to a chair. He stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to sit down, uninjured. “Ignore him, he only just woke up,” he explained, rounding the table to sit next to the empty chair Harry should’ve been in. He plucked the tea menu from Louis’ hand, and flipped through it slowly, humming the tune of one of their songs. A young looking waitress approached, smiling nervously. “Hello, gentlemen,” she said, voice shaky. “I’m Katie, I’ll be your waitress today.”

She passed them each a food menu, leaving Zayn’s in the table in front of him when he didn’t react at all. “He’s not fully awake yet,” Niall said sweetly, taking the booklet with a dazzling grin. “I swear, sometimes he’s nice.”

She giggled, and pulled a notebook out of her apron, pencil poised above the paper. “Can I get you started with any drinks?”

Louis raised his hand, smiling softly. “I’d love some Yorkshire tea,” he hummed, winking at Liam. She nodded, and jotted it down. “Thanks, love.”

He squeezed Harry’s waist, and the younger boy cleared his throat, glancing up at her. She was already looking at him, eyebrow raised expectantly. “An apple juice, if you have it,” he said, blushing when his boyfriend chuckled. “Cup of earl grey, if you could, Katie,” Niall said sweetly. “And my friend across the table will have as much caffeine as you can fit in a mug.”

He gestured to Zayn, who was nearly asleep. “And for you?” She asked, looking to Liam. “Just a glass of orange juice,” he said easily. She nodded, and the last three orders were written down. “I’ll have those out for you in just a few minutes,” she said, smiling, and turning on her heel to walk away.

Zayn woke up enough to drink what looked like a few shots of straight espresso, and nothing else, before excitedly ordering blueberry pancakes. Harry and Niall copied him, ordering chocolate chip pancakes. Louis and Liam both ordered breakfast sandwiches, smirking at the three other boys, who blushed at Katie’s giggles. Their food was out in 20 minutes, and they happily dug in. “Are you boys excited for the tour?” Liam asked, dumping hot sauce on his sandwich. Harry wrinkled his nose, and shook his head. “I’m excited to meet people, and to see all our fans, but the jet lag is horrible.”

Zayn huffed out a laugh, drowning his pancakes in syrup. “No kidding,” he sighed, cutting them into small squares.

“At least we get to go to the beach in the warmer places,” he offered, smiling at the curly haired boy next to Niall. He grinned, sitting up straighter. “Oh yeah! Will you go with me? You don’t have to swim, but you’re more fun to go with than them,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the other boys. Zayn chuckled, and nodded. “I’ll go into the water to a certain level. Now come on, finish your food. I still want to go to Paddington station.”

He grinned again, and began eating faster, ignoring the way Louis was staring at him, holding back a smile.

Chapter Text

Harry was allowed to leave the hotel and go places without Louis, but most of the time, it was encouraged he go places with the older boy. This time, he got to leave with Zayn and Niall, and no Louis. They didn’t even have security with them. It felt freeing, as they drove around in a large black car with tinted windows and a driver that wouldn’t say anything to them. “Are you boys excited?” Zayn asked, sipping languidly on a smoothie he’d taken for the road. Harry nodded eagerly, and Niall copied him. “I’m going to get a bear,” the green eyed boy said excitedly. “I want a shirt,” the older boy contemplated. “Marmalade,” Niall said, staring out the window aimlessly.
“That’s all you want?”

“Yup.”

They chuckled, and Niall nodded, proud of himself. The car slowed to a stop, and the doors unlocked. Of course, the driver said nothing, so Harry dropped some cash in the money slide, and they all climbed out. It drove off, and they turned to Paddington station eagerly. “Let’s go!” Zayn screeched, racing off. Niall and Harry were hot on his heels, laughing madly as people stared at them strangely. They bolted through the station without disturbing people besides mild confusion, skidding to a stop in front the store. Grinning at each other, they went inside.

The store wasn’t very large, only big enough for five solo shelves, and units along the walls. The shirts, books, snow globes and such were close to the front, in the solo shelves. Along the back were things like pyjamas, sweaters, and suitcases. In the far back corner were the stuffed animals. Harry beelined for them immediately, while his friends thumbed through shirts and giggled at children’s books. He selected a medium sized Paddington, clutching it to his chest and making his way back to his friends. “This is my son,” he declared proudly, holding the bear out. “He has your eyes,” Zayn said drily, smirking. Niall petted its face, grinning. “Good choice?” Harry asked. They both nodded, and Zayn ruffled his hair. “I’m gonna get Liam a copy of the book,” he said, picking up one of the paperbacks.

“He seems like the type to enjoy it unironically.”

Niall snorted. “I want to get Louis something. What should I get?”

“A mug? He collects them, doesn’t he?” Harry hummed, and turned on his heel, marching towards the mugs. The other two selected their items, paid, and went to wait outside. The younger boy chose a mug, a white one with Paddington in front of the Big Ben, and went up to the till. “Just these please,” he said, placing them on the counter and pulling out his wallet. “Of course,” the man hummed, beginning to scan his items, before pausing.

“Are you Harry Styles?” He asked, glancing up. Harry smiled softly, and nodded. The mandatory smile of a retail worker disappeared in a millisecond, replaced by a dark curl of lips. An odd feeling tickled at the base of his spine. The feeling of being hunted. “Bet I could do better than that pitchy little boyfriend of yours,” the man muttered lowly. His smile was predatory, eyes dark and dangerous. Everything in Harry’s body went tense, and he damn near reached behind him for Louis’ hand. “Bet my dick is bigger… feels better.”

Harry flushed red, glancing towards the window, where Niall was looking in, concerned. It was quiet enough outside that the two boys could hear what the man was saying. He couldn’t even see Zayn. “I’m a virgin,” he said quietly, making pleading eyes at his friend through the window. The man had to be at least 25, if not older. “I could change that,” he practically purred. Harry made an awkward sound, and stumbled back, straight into Zayn’s chest. The older boy wrapped an arm around him, tugging him farther back.

“He’s 17, you fucking creep,” he hissed, slamming cash on the counter and scooping up Harry’s purchases. “Keep the change,” he growled, dragging the younger boy out, who was still stunned to silence.

He was sandwiched between Niall and Zayn, the box his mug was in pressed uncomfortably against his ribs as he hid his face in the fur of his bear, tugging along through the station to get to a new car. People were screaming at him, and he heard the vague sound of cameras, so clearly paparazzi and fans had found them. “We should’ve brought security,” Niall muttered over Harry’s head to Zayn. “Well, I suppose we didn’t think we’d be mobbed within 30 minutes,” he grumbled, forcing his way through the crowd, hand tight on Harry’s bicep as he pushed towards the doors. “Our first mistake. Second mistake, assuming adults could be normal around teenagers.” Zayn huffed, spotting the car waiting for them and picking up his pace. Niall slipped his hand into Harry’s, and leaned upwards to whisper in his ear. “Want me to call Louis to meet us in the lobby?” He asked, squeezing his hand. Harry shook his head, stumbling along blindly. He felt disgusting, and used. Louis’ hands all over him, as they tended to be, would only make it worse. “Want to come up to my room? Sit on your own for a bit?” He nodded, and peeked out to shuffle into the far corner of the car. Zayn sat across from them, and Niall sat close, wrapping an arm around him. “I’m sorry, Haz,” he whispered, holding him close. Harry just grunted, pressing his bear closer to his face, hoping he wouldn’t cry.

When they reached the hotel, people were crowded. That, as a whole, wasn’t surprising, but either way, it made them all tense up. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Zayn hissed. Louis was in the middle of the crowd, looking confused, surrounded by security. “They fucking called him out.”

“Do you think we could explain it before anything happens?” Zayn winced, and shook his head. They both took one of Harry’s arms, and began the trek through the crowd. Harry’s face was still hidden behind his bear, and the two older boys ducked their heads, forcing their way towards the crowd of security. As soon as they were close enough, they were tugged into the circle, pressed against each other and pushed towards the front doors. Louis stared at his boyfriend with concern, while Zayn tried to explain what had happened and what not to do over the noise. When they got into the lobby, it was obvious he hadn’t heard a single word.

“Haz?” He asked, stepping forward to cup his face, one hand slipping down to tangle their fingers. “Are you alright?”

Harry immediately struggled from his grasp, lips pulling up and into a snarl. “Don’t touch me!” He screeched, stumbling backwards. The bear and mug tumbled to the floor, but the green eyed boy didn’t seem to notice. Zayn rushed forward, grabbing him and holding him against his chest.

“Harry, calm down, it’s alright,” he said against his scalp, holding his struggling arms down. Niall pulled Louis away, whispering against his ear as Zayn led a sobbing Harry to the elevator. “Let’s go upstairs,” Niall offered, looking tired. The older boy didn’t reply. He was crouched to the ground, tenderly reaching out for the bear and the box the mug was in. Niall sighed, and touched his shoulder. “I’ll take them back to him. Please, let’s just get away from the windows.” Louis glanced towards the windows, the only thing holding the crowd back, the crowd which seemed to have the decency to be quiet. He nodded, and let his friend lead him away.

Zayn stepped into Liam’s room, closing the door behind him. Liam, Niall and Louis were gathered in the bed, staring at their phones. The story was already all over Twitter, with fans and news outlets debating the future of Louis and Harry’s relationship, and even the future of One Direction itself. All three of the boys looked very annoyed, but their heads whipped up when the golden boy entered. “How is he?” The oldest boy asked, scrambling up. “Is he alright?” Zayn shrugged, setting a bag from the station down. “He’s sleeping. Lennon is with him, and he has the bear,” he said, sitting on the bed opposite the other three boys. Louis hummed, bringing his hand up to bite at his nails. “Did he say what happened? Niall just said that the clerk was being gross.”

“He said that he hit on him, which was an understatement. I heard it, it was pretty much just pure filth.” He rubbed his face tiredly, groaning softly. “The guy was in his 20’s. Late 20’s, probably. He was disgusting.” Louis sighed, rubbing his fingers through his hair and getting up, beginning to pace. “Security said you wanted me down there,” he muttered, fists clenching.

“Why on earth would you ask for me to be down there? He clearly didn’t want me there!” Niall’s face hardened, and he spoke up before Zayn could.

“I called and said that you shouldn’t be brought down, I asked him if he wanted you there and he said no, so I told them to keep you away! Don’t you dare try and pin this on us,” he hissed, standing up on his knees. Zayn grabbed his hand, and shook his head. The Irish lad settled down, glaring darkly. “We wouldn’t do that,” Zayn huffed.

“They probably did it to stir up drama.” Louis groaned, sinking to the ground and rubbing his hands down his face. “I hate them,” Liam muttered, speaking up for the first time. “Everything is drama for them. They don’t care how it affects us.” Niall huffed in agreement. They sat in upset silence, glaring at various parts of the room. Eventually, they spread out back to their rooms, refusing to leave until rehearsal.

Chapter Text

Half an hour before rehearsal was set to start, Louis creeped into Zayn’s room, spying Harry on the bed farthest from the door, curled around a stuffed bear, Lennon asleep near his feet. The boys were in the hall, already dressed and ready, too scared to check in on the youngest member. The older boy frowned at the realization that all of the other boys had gotten rooms with two beds, whereas the only two people in one room had gotten one bed. Lennon lifted his head to stare at him, eyes narrowed in a strange look of suspicion. He smiled weakly, plucking him from the covers. Immediately, he began purring, brushing his face against his jaw. Louis chuckled, and sat at the foot of the bed, reaching out to tap Harry’s calf gently. He didn’t react. He tried again, shaking his leg. The younger boy's eyes snapped open, and his head whipped to face his boyfriend. Louis shuffled back, ducking his head.

“It’s time for rehearsal,” he whispered in explanation. Harry didn’t reply, simply shuffled around, and grabbed something off of the bedside table, pushing it into his hands. Well, hand, really. He was still holding Lennon against his neck. “What’s this?” He asked softly, peering at the box in his hand. “Bought it for you,” Harry whispered, pulling his knees to his chest.

“I, uh, sorta dropped it, so hopefully it’s not broken.”

Carefully, the older boy opened the box, removing the mug. His face cracked into a smile, and he set the cat back on the bed. “I love it,” he hummed. “Thank you.”

Harry shuffled closer, hooking his chin over his shoulder and wrapping his arms around him. Louis did the same, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. The younger boy just grunted. “Ready for rehearsal?” He nodded, but pressed closer. The older boy chuckled. “C’mon love, we have to get ready.”

“Carry me,” he whined, wrapping his legs around him. “Grab Lennon,” he muttered, returning his mug to the box and hooking an arm under the younger boy's thighs. He carried him back to their room, smiling at their friends softly. Niall smirked, like he expected it to happen.

~~~~

Rehearsal went smoothly, until one of the management supervisors called Harry and Louis over. The younger boy had been clingy, pressing himself against Louis’ back whenever he wasn’t singing, and letting the older boy hold him whenever he was. They had already discussed in whispers that their managers would want them to fight, or be dramatic in some way, but seeing the older man call them over, face set in seriousness, sent shivers down their spines. Louis slipped his hand into Harry’s, pinky tracing over his pulse point gently. His heart was beating quickly, and he squeezed his boyfriend’s hand like it was the only thing grounding him. The man pasted a fake grin on his face, and he clapped his hands.

“Boys!” He drawled, clapping once. “Hello, Carl,” Louis said drily. His smile dropped. “Yeah, fair,” he muttered. “Alright, the guys up top want more drama in your lives, and that little spat you had in the hotel today, whatever it was about, fuels that fire. There were thousands of witnesses, and no one really knows what happened, so play it up a bit on stage, yeah? Stay on opposite sides of the stage, throw some glares, cuss each other out if you so choose. Just for tonight, I swear, then act normal.”

Both boys frowned, and Carl pulled a regretful face. “I’m sorry. If it were up to me, Harry would explain what happened and that you were fine now, but it’s not up to me. And it’s not up to you, either. So just… go with it?”

They both nodded, and Harry pressed closer to the older boy, hiding his face in his neck. Carl was one of the best of them, often sent to deliver bad news, because he’d apologize. He wandered off to pick up a call, and they returned to sit at the edge of the stage. “What was that about?” Liam asked, scrolling through Twitter with a bored look on his face. “They want us to pretend to be mad at each other,” Louis muttered. All three of the other boys turned to stare at them, looking shocked. “They what? Is that even allowed?”

Louis shrugged, struggling to sit down on the edge of the stage, leading Harry to sit on his lap. “They made us move in together, Lima, they can do whatever the hell they want.” He blanched, and ducked his head. “You can’t honestly have thought that was our idea.”

“That was easier to think,” Niall muttered, blushing. Louis shrugged, glancing at the various Modest workers around the building. “They’re in charge, boys. We don’t really have a choice anymore.” Harry made a soft sound, pressing his face farther into Louis’ skin. Zayn, Niall and Liam all looked shocked, but only for a moment. They stared at the men in suits, the ones who told them what to say, who deleted tweets without asking, who docked pay without warning. They were in charge, and that wasn’t going to change.

The show went as it was supposed to. Louis and Harry were put on opposite sides of the stage, the other three boys told to look confused and try to ignore it. Harry was told to ignore all of them, just sing and act normal. Louis was supposed to act distracted, miss his openings, and gaze at Harry.

At the end of the show, Harry rushed off the stage, and the older boy followed, reaching out to grab his hand. As soon as they were out of visibility, Harry stopped, twisting on his heel and pressing right against Louis. “I’m sorry, love,” the blue eyed boy muttered, pulling them into their change room and towards the couch. The younger boy grumbled nonsensically, clambering onto his lap, grabbing Louis’ elbows and wrapping his arms around him. He chuckled, holding him close. “Y’alright?” He asked, rubbing his back. “Wanna be close,” he muttered. “Okay. Let’s get ready, then, and we can cuddle on the bus.” He groaned, but sat up, rushing about to change into more comfortable clothes, and wiping the small bits of makeup off his face. Louis did the same, pulling a large jacket over his shoulders and beckoning the younger boy into his arms. “Let’s go, my love,” he murmured. Carl was waiting for them in the hall, staring at his phone. “There you are!” He crowed, smiling. “The guys up top have come up with a conclusion to the night.”

“More drama?” Louis asked, looking bothered. “Nope! Just show some PDA for the paps on your walk to the bus.”

“Oh. Okay,” they muttered, settling closer to each other. He grinned, sending them a thumbs up and wandering off again. They joined the boys by the exit, Louis’ arm wrapped around Harry’s shoulders, and Harry’s tucked under his jacket, wrapped around his waist. “Before you say anything, it’s allowed,” the older boy muttered. “Alright,” Niall replied, opening the door. “Let’s go.”

They pushed out of the double doors, towards the bus. There were fans and paps lining the pathway, now being quiet and respectful in the hopes of getting photos or autographs. Harry immediately dragged his boyfriend to the sidelines so he could get photos. No one asked any questions about the show, simply got their photos and signatures, and said goodbye. It was over quickly, all of them returning to the bus within a few minutes. It was a short trip back to the hotel, and they’d be up early the next morning for the flight to LA.

~~~~

Harry was lying on his back staring at the ceiling, waiting for Louis to join him on the bed. The mattress dipped when he crawled on, slipping under the covers. “Did you set an alarm?” He asked softly, refusing to look at his boyfriend. “Yes.”

“Its name better not be Liam.”

He chuckled, flicking the lamp on his side of the bed off. “I’m pretty sure its name is Arpeggio.”

“Good.” Louis hummed, staring at the younger boy, the shadows on his face and neck. He had yet to turn off the lamp on his side. “Ready to go to bed?” He shook his head. “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “Staying up late won’t work. You know how Liam feels when we take naps.”

He shrugged again and Louis sighed, sitting up and leaning over his face. “What’s wrong? You’re acting weird.”

The younger boy stared up at him, green eyes swimming in unreadable emotions. “Harry? Are you okay?”

He didn’t reply, just stared up at him silently. “C’mon love, you’ll feel better if you sleep,” he said, patting his chest. Harry glared. Louis huffed, and got up, rounding the bed. “I’m going to put you under the covers, and I’m going to turn off the lamp. I don’t much care if you go to sleep, but I plan on sleeping, so be quiet, yeah?” He nodded, and let the older boy move him up the bed and under the covers. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight,” he whispered against his skin. Harry nodded, staring at the fake wood of the bedside table. Louis stared down at him, eyebrows furrowed.

He was like this months ago, during the first tour, when the only time he was happy was on stage or in interviews. The older boy sighed, flipping the lamp off and returning to his side of the bed. He could only pray the green eyed boy wouldn’t stay like this the whole tour.

~~~

Come morning, it wasn’t the alarm that woke Louis up. It was the panicked scramble next to him; the clatter of Harry’s phone falling to the floor, quickly followed by Harry himself. “Harry?” He groaned, peering over the edge of the bed. He hummed listlessly, rubbing his head where he’d hit it on the floor. “Were you up all night?” He asked, rubbing his eyes and rolling over to turn off the alarm. He grunted. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He got up, and cracked his spine, shuffling towards the wall to switch on the overhead light and change into actual clothes. Harry struggled to stand, and followed him, changing by their shared suitcase. “What were you even doing all night?” Louis asked around his toothbrush, as the younger boy fixed his hair in the mirror. “Twitter,” he muttered, staring at the reflection of his red eyes. “You were on Twitter for 8 hours?”

“Felt like 2.”

“What were you looking at?” He rolled his eyes, and shoved his phone at the older boy, leaving the small bathroom with a huff, scooping up Lennon as he went. The poor thing looked scandalized. He opened his phone, (they had the same password in case the opportunity to show their closeness as a couple arose), and clicked on Twitter.

Immediately, the most disgusting comments filled the feed. Adults saying how badly they wanted him, people calling him slurs, people being grossly sexual. All the most hateful things on the internet, branded with his name and put in his face. Louis’ face hardened, and he shoved the phone into his pocket, marching out after his boyfriend. “You were reading hate?” He asked incredulously. The younger boy was kneeling on the ground in front of their suitcase, folding the last few items into the smallest possible shapes and placing them in their spots. It was like an intricate game of Tetris. “Harry,” he said, when he didn’t reply, “look at me.”

His shoulders stiffened, and he stood, eyes downcast. Louis stood in front of him, taking his face into his hands, ducking his head to look him in the eye. “Harry,” he repeated, voice soft. “Don’t read things like that.”

“Why?” He croaked, throat having gone dry.

“Because it’s disgusting,” he said, shocked he even had to explain it. “I’m disgusting,” he said brokenly, stumbling to the floor like he couldn’t bear to hold up his own weight anymore. Lennon clambered on top of him, paws pressing to his chest so he could stand up and sniff at his face. Louis crouched in front of him, taking his jaw into his hands. “You’re not disgusting, Harry,” he said softly, looking shocked. “You’re gorgeous.”

“I’m a gay icon, by being in a fake relationship,” he whispered sadly. “So many people tell me I was their inspiration to come out, that seeing us be in love gives them hope and it’s not even real.”
“You say that like it was our choice.”

“It was! They asked us if we were okay with it and-“

“You can’t honestly think that if we had said no they wouldn’t have made us do it anyways. Or turned it onto Niall and Zayn, or something.”

He shrugged, eyes turning away from the older boy. Louis sighed, and let go of his face, straightening up. “If you want to leave, I’ll be right behind you,” he said quietly, before returning to the bathroom to pack up their toiletries. He heard the soft pattering of kitten-feet following him.

Chapter Text

Early in the days on 1D, (within the first week of its formation), Niall had made them all promise that they were never to keep secrets from each other. It had been easy for them all to agree. So they all knew about Zayn’s anxiety diagnosis from the year prior, about Niall’s aversion to crowds, about Louis’ need to send a portion of his pay check to his mum back home; and with only a gentle look from Louis, Harry told them about what he’d been doing all night. He didn’t share that he thought he was a fraud, and the older boy didn’t seem to think he needed to. All of the boys pursed their lips sadly, but didn’t say a word. Instead of napping curled against Louis, he slept on his own, phone hidden away in his backpack. Louis curled up with Zayn instead. This was the comfort that no one ever saw. How easy it was for them to be together, settling close as possible, whispering secrets, crying together. Niall liked to joke that if they were girls, their periods would be synced to the second. They loved spending time together, wrapped up in each other’s arms or in each other’s laps. Once, they were invited to some huge mansion, and they all slept in one bed together, limbs tangled awkwardly. They weren’t even under the covers, merely laying under and over each other, heads on chests, hands in hair, arms around waists. A blurry photo had circulated for a while, and it had gotten so popular that they were never even scolded. Liam and Niall were cuddled in another chair, watching animated movies on Liam’s laptop. Lennon was with Harry, curled in the bend of his arm. He was like the younger boy in every way Louis could think of. He had the same green eyes, he loved car rides, he could sit at a window watching people for hours, and he loved cuddling with or sleeping on Louis. And whenever his boy was mad at Louis, he slept cuddled with him instead. That was normally the cue for Louis to apologize with flowers and a movie night.

“You know him better than the rest of us,” Zayn said quietly, once he was sure Harry was asleep. “Do you think he’s alright?”

His mouth was near Louis’ ear, arm slung across his waist, holding him close. Louis’ legs were thrown over Zayn’s thighs, and he was comfortably leaned against his chest. “I… I don’t know. He was alright for a while last night. Then I went to get ready for bed, and when I came back, he was acting weird. Then this morning, he sort of broke down. I don’t know. Everything is confusing.”

Zayn hummed, fingers drumming on Louis’ hip and calf. They both stared at Harry’s sleeping form, until Lennon lifted his little head and glared. They looked away. “We should probably sleep,” Liam said to all of them, shutting his laptop. They nodded, and settled in more comfortable positions. Niall moved to cuddle with Zayn, while Liam and Louis went solo, the older boy sitting across from his boyfriend, and the chocolate eyed boy hidden away on one of the bunks. Even though he was tired, Louis still spent nearly an hour just staring at Harry. He couldn’t understand him, even if he did know him best. He changed so often, and he barely revealed himself beyond what was necessary. Louis desperately wanted to understand him, to see what he was thinking before he could say it, to look at this boy he felt he’d known for forever and truly know him. But he didn’t.

Humans, even when they are asleep, can often feel when they are being watched. Some deep rooted instinct of knowing that something is watching them, and that they need to be ready. Now, of course, there are fewer imminent threats when someone is sleeping, so the instinct seems useless. But for Harry, it told him when Louis was anxious about something. Ever since they moved in together, Louis tried to take over as the adult of the household, like he’d done at home. He tried to take care of Harry, and tried to let him live out what small amount of childhood he had left. So when he got anxious or worried about one thing or another, he would try to distract himself by looking at what he was trying his best to protect. Harry. Normally, this would be him watching him as he cooked, or staring at him rather than a movie they were watching. Other times, when he was especially worried, he would go into Harry’s room and watch him from the doorway. He didn’t do it to be creepy, he just needed to see that the younger boy was still peaceful, still breathing slowly and dreaming. And so Harry began to notice. He ignored it for Louis’ benefit, not wanting him to be embarrassed, but he could always feel it when the older boy was watching him, even when he was asleep. It would make him wake up, but he learnt to keep his eyes closed and monitor his breathing so Louis wouldn’t notice. But they were on a plane, and Harry was tired, and he was too drained to care, so he woke up, and looked straight at Louis.
“What,” he asked drily, voice having gone deep with sleep. “Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m thinking.” He blinked slowly, grumbled, and sat up. “You’re stressing, is what you’re doing. So how about you just tell me instead of watching me sleep, you fucking stalker.” Louis rolled his eyes, and the younger boy was pleased to see some of the tension seep out of his shoulders. “I live with you, I can’t be a stalker.”

“Plenty of stalkers live with their victims. It’s called kidnapping.” He slipped out from under his blanket, leaving a sleeping Lennon, and settled next to Louis on the same chair. He threw his legs over the arm of the chair that was closest to Louis, and he leaned against Louis’ side, staring up at him. “Just tell me. It’ll make you feel better.”

The older boy placed one hand on Harry’s shin, and wrapped his free arm around the green eyed boy’s shoulders, tugging him close to kiss his head. “This made me feel better than anything else could.”

He grinned proudly, and lay his head on Louis’ chest. “Good. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He reached to the chair next to them to claim a new blanket, throwing it over them, and happily drifting off. Just watching the calm breathing of his boyfriend had Louis following suit.

~~~~~

As soon as the other boys started stirring, Harry returned to the seat across from them, but Lennon took up the place that the younger boy vacated, so Louis knew he wasn’t mad. He added another rule to the list in his head, vacantly petting the cat on his lap. Harry was fine at home, but once they were on tour, he was sad. He got weird and distant, until they had to play up being a couple. But once they were alone, he was fine? Louis frowned down at Lennon, fiddling with his ears as the little thing purred almost violently. Harry still made no sense. Niall pulled himself from the chair he’d curled up in with Zayn, and yawned loudly, cracking his back. “Are we landing soon?” Louis stared at him, and squinted at the marks on his neck, which only seemed to multiply. “Oi. Tommo. Are we landing?”

“We’ll be landing at 3:25 LA time, about an hour from now.”

“Jet lag is going to be a bitch.” Louis smiled sardonically. “You say that like it’s new.”

Niall groaned, turning away. “It’s too early for your weird creepy sarcasm smile,” he muttered, wandering to the loo. Zayn dragged himself from the chair next, yawning dramatically. “Tea?”

“Kitchen.” He hummed, and stumbled off. Harry cracked an eye open, peeking back at Louis. The older boy smiled at him, strained, but a smile nonetheless. “Y’alright?” He asked, gently lifting Lennon from his lap. He nodded mutely. “Need anything?” He shook his head. Louis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna ask that again, and this time, you’re going to answer with words, because this whole silence thing doesn’t fly well with me.” Before he could ask, Harry stood up, leaned into his space with a hand on his chest, and kissed him gently. “I’m fine, Boo. You’re just worrying too much.” His hand curled into a soft fist against Louis, before he smiled brightly, and wandered off, Lennon following peacefully. Something in Louis’ chest began to hum; soft and melodic. Something else screamed.

He and Harry had spent a fairly long portion of the last two years kissing. They’d had to practice to make it look as if they’d been together right since the start. They kissed in alleyways, on stage, during interviews, they’d kissed for photos with fans, for magazines, and for promo. A few times, they’d kissed until their lips were chapped and they’d had problems in their pants they didn’t know how to deal with, (they brushed it off as being hormonal teenagers). But they had never, not even once, kissed without there being someone else watching. Niall and Liam had been in other rooms, and Zayn hadn’t been looking at them, too concerned with his tea. That moment, the brush of lips so simple only real couples shared it, was all for Louis. And he didn’t know what to do with it.

Chapter Text

When they landed, hours later, Harry melted into Louis’ side like it was second nature. His arm was wrapped right around Louis’ waist, fingers pressing into his hip. It was so simple that Louis’s arm was laid over his shoulders before he was even aware of what he was doing. Lennon, laying peacefully in the hood of Louis’ front-facing jumper, purred when Harry scratched behind his ears and gave him a kiss on the head. They were watching as Zayn and Niall struggled to pack up the mess they’d made before they headed for their hotel, with Liam lecturing them from the door. “We were only on the plane for a few hours, and you donuts managed to make it look like a dumpster! No, Niall, you cannot leave it for a cleaning crew. You made the mess, so you’re cleaning it up! Harry, don't you even think about helping, I don’t care that you like cleaning, this is a learning experience for them.”

Harry pouted, head dropping to rest in the curve of Louis’ neck. “Don’t see why they call you Daddy Direction,” Zayn muttered, stuffing a pair of Niall’s socks into a backpack. No one was sure whose backpack. “You’re much more of a Mum.”

Liam rolled his eyes impressively, running a hand through his short hair. “Don’t make me call your actual Mum, Zayn. You know she’ll make the crew have you clean up every arena after the concerts.”

He blanched, and ducked his head, shoving more of Niall’s random shit into bags. None of the mess was his, he’d been comfortably asleep for most of the trip, but for some reason, he’d taken some of the blame so Niall wasn’t alone, and dealt with the verbal abuse from Liam. Louis wasn’t about to complain, that way, everyone assumed the redbull cans were Zayn’s. A heavy palm landed on the door of the jet, and they all flinched. It could be management, but it could also be a determined paparazzi. “I’ll handle it,” Liam said with a tired sigh, trying to cover up his worry. They all knew how to open and close plane doors at that point, (they tried to minimize the use of flight attendants, they didn’t want anyone stuck in a plane with Niall for 16 hours), so he pushed it open with ease. Standing on the stairs that led to the door was Paul, looking perfectly at peace.

“Paul!” Liam squeaked, practically launching himself at him. The older man chuckled, catching him easily, and patting his back. “Hiya, Liam. Are you boys ready to head out?” Liam didn’t bother letting go of him as he walked into the plane with them. “Niall and Zayn are cleaning up their mess, but once that’s done, we’ll be good to go.”

Paul didn’t even flinch when the other four boys bolted at him and hugged him tight. Lennon seemed mildly bothered by his new position crushed between Louis’ collarbones and Paul’s shoulder, and pulled himself out of his hoodie-bed to perch comfortably around Paul’s neck. As he tended to do, their security guard didn’t even question it. His large arms wrapped around all of them, squeezing them tight against him. They were crushed together, and crushed against him, laughing and squirming, and bumping their heads against Paul’s chest. “It’s nice to see you boys,” he said softly. “You too, Paul,” Niall said happily, reaching out to grab his forearm. “We missed you,” Harry whined. “Why can’t you just adopt us?”

“I don’t think my fiancée would approve of having 5 world famous teenage boys living in her house,” he said with a chuckle, smirking when they all gasped.

“You proposed?” Zayn squealed, clapping his hands excitedly. Louis let out a loud whoop, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him gently. “Paul, that’s my boy! Get it!”

“Can we go to the wedding?” Harry asked softly, looking up at him with large, hopeful eyes. Paul scoffed. “Of course! I can’t get married without my best boys.” Niall huffed, bumping his head against his shoulder again. “We’re men, Paul. Big, strong men.”

“Your suitcase has Toy Story characters on it.” He shrugged, and they all finally released him, Liam immediately herding Zayn and Niall to finish cleaning. Lennon, still on Paul’s shoulders, began to move around, sniffing him inquisitorially. “And who’s this?” Paul asked, letting the cat sniff his fingers and ask for pets. “That’s Lennon, he’s mine and Louis’,” Harry said happily. “He’s very sweet,” Paul hummed, lifting him off his shoulders and handing him to Louis. “We’ll get properly introduced later. You two head out.” They nodded, and cuddled back together. Harry had his backpack, and Louis kept Lennon in his hood.

They could only hope that the cat wouldn’t be too spooked by the crowd most likely waiting for them.

~~~~~~~

They stepped out of the plane, squinting at the bright sun. There were short fences that created a walkway from the plane to the airport. Of course, both sides were packed with people, all clamouring for a closer spot, waving phones, notebooks and cameras. A long exhale of breath tickled Louis’ neck when Harry sighed, squeezing the older boy against him, tight enough to pop a kink in his back, before letting go almost completely. For once, Louis found himself not needing to fake his smile. They made their way down the steps, Harry dragging them to the nearest screaming girl. She was in a black shirt with them on X-Factor dressed as vampires, with ‘twilight’ written along the bottom. Louis snorted when he saw it. “I like your shirt,” he muttered as Harry jotted a signature onto her CD case. Her eyes widened, and she anxiously grabbed the neck of it. “Really? I, um, like your cat.” Harry passed a pen and CD case to him, smiling softly. “Cute little shit, isn’t he?” He asked, signing it quickly and grinning at her. “Want a picture, love?” She gripped the case tightly, and nodded happily. Harry took a selfie of the three (four counting Lennon) of them, and they moved on. When there wasn’t a covered tunnel in between the plane and the airport, it took them much longer to get there. Not because they were being held back, but because they needed to talk to as many fans as possible. It was the best part, seeing them smile and cry, getting to hug them and sign things. Made him feel like he was actually doing something.

There was more screaming when the rest of the boys managed to drag themselves from the jet. Liam, ever the social butterfly, immediately rushed to the sides of the walkway, acting more excited than the fans. He collected signatures, too. A small book of them, filled with the names of fans. He got pictures, asked for hugs, and told everyone he could just how much he loved them. Zayn and Niall were doing similarly further up. “Hi, Harry!” A small voice called, a pair of tiny hands shoving through the fence. Harry turned towards the voice, a grin as big as the sun already on his lips. But all he saw were cameras, as paps pushed a little girl out of the way to yell demands. “Lou,” he whispered. “I think they hurt her.”

“What.” His voice was flat as his eyes cut to the fence, spying her on the ground, lip pushed out in a pout and tears rising in her eyes. Her hands were wrapped around her reddened knee, clearly she’d skinned it. “Louis! Mind kissing your boyfriend for us?” Someone screeched, shoving another camera towards him. “Back off, buddy,” he hissed, glaring. “You sick fucks get a kick out of pushing our fans? They’re paying your bills just as much as they’re paying mine, so how’s about whoever pushed that little girl helps her up?”

Instead of helping, they just moved onto the other boys. The little girl stayed on the ground, holding her injured knee. Louis crouched down to smile at her softly through the fence. “Y’alright honey?” She nodded weakly. “Can you stand up for me?” She pushed herself to her feet and came closer to the fence. “Hi, Louis,” she whispered. “Hello sweetheart. Would you like to come over here? I could check out that knee for ya’.”

“Can I pet your cat?” She asked, wiping the last of her tears away. “Of course, love.” He stood up, and leaned over the fence to pick her up, bringing her to his side. “I’m going to go get you a bandage, why don’t you hold the cat while I’m gone? I love him very much, so you’ll have to hold on tight.”

“I can hold him?”

“Of course! And you can talk to Harry while I’m gone.” She nodded eagerly, while Harry plopped onto the pavement next to her. Lennon, clearly being able to tell what was expected of him, curled up in her lap as soon as he was on the ground. “Keep an eye on him, will you?” Louis asked, gesturing to Harry. “He’s a troublemaker.” She giggled, and nodded again, humming as she threaded her fingers through Lennon’s fur.

“Oi! Payno! You got a first aid kit?” Louis asked, jogging over to him. The younger boy squinted. “Why..?”

“Got a bad case of scraped knee over there,” he answered with a grin. “Mmm, you gonna kiss it better?” Even with the goofy grin on his face, Liam still slid his backpack off, and pulled out a little baggie of medical supplies. Louis saluted him with two fingers, winking playfully. “Whatever’s necessary. Bring the boys over, will you?” The other boy nodded, and laughed as Louis jogged back.

“Alright, I’ve got a med kit,” he said, settling on the ground in front of the girl. “First things first. What’s your name, Princess?”

“Maya,” she said softly, now holding one of Harry’s hands as well as petting Lennon. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Louis replied. “Now, can I see your knee?”

Maya nodded, and laid her leg out in front of her, dislodging the cat slightly. “Oh, that’s bad,” Louis sighed, rubbing his chin. “I’m sorry, Princess Maya, but we might have to amputate.”

“That means take your leg off,” Harry whispered, holding down a smile. She squeaked, clutching Lennon closer to her. “No! I wanna keep my leg!” She gasped. “You’re in luck, princess. Louis’ the best doctor in the whole world,” Harry said, squeezing her hand. “He’ll save it.”

“Yes, I think you might be able to keep it after all!” Louis crowed, pulling a bandaid from the bag. “Here we have a magical kitten band aid! I think you’ll be safe.” She giggled, bending her knee slightly so the pop star could stick down the bandaid. In reality, her knee was barely skinned. There was no blood, it would just sting a little later on. But Louis was a sucker for kids, so much of a sucker that he didn’t even care that he was being filmed by at least 300 different devices, and being watched by his band and entire team. Once the band aid was done, he patted her knee gently.

“All done, Princess. I think you’ll get to keep your leg.”

Her leg lifted, and she peered at it curiously. “Kiss it better?” She asked softly, blinking up at him. He would never live this down.

“Of course, honey.”

He kissed the bandage, before announcing her completely healed. When she stood up, she pulled a beaded necklace off of her neck. “Here! My mommy says it’s for safety. And since you’re so famous, you definitely need safety.”

He nearly melted. “Oh, thank you so much, Maya, but I could never take jewelry from a princess, I’m much too lowly for that.” She frowned. “Then you’re a knight now! Princesses can do that. And now you can have it.”

He knelt down again, and she slid the necklace over his head. She was missing one of her front teeth, but her smile was the prettiest one he’d ever seen. “Thank you, Maya. Now, do you think you can go find your mummy?” She nodded excitedly, but held out a piece of crumpled parchment. “Could you sign this? My mommy couldn’t get to the front, and she loves Harry. But you’re my favourite.”

“Of course, Princess. In fact, I’ll get everyone to sign it.” All the boys gathered, and signed the little piece of paper, fussing over Maya more than they did actual members of the royal family. Louis picked her up one last time to kiss her cheek, before placing her on the other side of the fence. She giggled as she ran off, waving dramatically.

Harry grabbed his hand when he stood next to him again. “You’re my superhero,” he said softly, eyes practically glowing. And suddenly his fingers were in his hair, and his lips were on his, and he was buzzing and everyone was screaming… and all he could do was grab his waist and kiss him harder.

Chapter Text

On the tour bus, he went unjudged, strangely enough. Paul hugged him once they were out of sight, kissing his hair. “You’re gonna be an amazing father someday,” he whispered. Even Niall smiled at him, looking all soft. While they were outside, Harry couldn’t help but kiss him every few minutes. Mostly soft and PG, but once or twice, Louis felt the distinct feeling of a tongue in his mouth. Paps got their fair share of couple pictures, and Louis knew pictures of him and Maya would be circulating, as well as plenty of speculation about him and Harry having kids.

They were much too young, but the fans loved to hope. They had a radio show the next day, and the first show of the North American leg of the tour a few hours after that, but this was one of their few free days. So of course, they begged and pleaded to go to the beach. Liam was best at it, Harry coming in close second, putting his curls and adorable eyes to good use.

“Please? Just for an hour or two, it would get the word out! We could publicize the radio show tomorrow!” Paul looked unimpressed, and Niall whining about getting tans for sex appeal didn’t seem to help. “C’mon Paul, it’ll help us get into the groove of this time zone,” Louis said convincingly. “Get all our energy out on the beach, eat some dinner at the hotel, fall asleep right on time! It’ll be perfect.” Paul hummed, mask cracking into a small smile. “Ugh, fine. But only because it’ll tire you out.”

They all whooped dramatically, piling onto the same couch while he went to tell the driver. Their limbs were tangled in seconds, while Niall cackled, and Liam blabbered about surfing and getting ice cream, and Harry promised Zayn he’d look for shells with him. Louis watched. Publicly, he was the loud one. He tended to be the loud one in all settings, really, but when it came to this? He was quiet. He watched his boys, his brothers, the people he’d do anything for. It was so easy to get caught in a loop of self loathing and stress while on the road, so easy to get scared, but he had his boys. As if he could tell what he was thinking about, Harry settled against his chest more comfortably, reaching around to grab one of his hands and force it to rest on his stomach. The older boy sighed, and joined in the debate about whether fruit or ice cream was better on the beach.

~~~~~

They found a lesser traveled beach, changed into trunks, and raced into the water. Zayn stopped when it reached his knees to cheer them on, and Harry stopped when he saw a nice shell. The other three ran until they couldn’t, then dove into a wave and wrestled under the water. They fought for footing, pushed water in each other’s faces, and choked on the salty water. “Don’t kill each other,” Harry called after them mildly. “We have a show tomorrow.”

“We’ll be careful,” Louis screeched, letting out a yelp when Niall pulled his leg out and forced him to fall. Harry and Zayn stared out at them, unimpressed. “Who’s going to drown first?” The older boy asked, crouching down to look for rocks and shells with him. “Niall. He’s staying underwater.” Zayn hummed, glancing over when Liam started coughing dramatically. “None of them seem to have been blessed with a survival instinct.”

“Of course not. Don’t you remember when Niall took us to the Cliffs of Moher? Louis nearly pushed Liam off three times.” Zayn snorted, and returned to the shore to dig in the sand. “Go tire yourself out, join me later.”

The younger boy grinned, flicking some water at him, before running off to tackle Niall. Louis grabbed him as soon as he was up, tossing him into the water with all his might. He laughed as he fell, grinning at the sky. When he swam back up, Louis grabbed him again, tugging him close with a grin. “You get any in your eyes?”

“Nope. Didn’t breathe any in, either.” The older boy chuckled, letting their wet skin touch as his head fell into the crook of Harry’s neck. Niall and Liam continued wrestling and splashing a few feet away, while Louis gently ran his hands across Harry’s body, lips barely brushing against his shoulder. “Aren’t we supposed to be tiring out?”

“Yeah, but Paul isn’t watching.” Harry hummed, arms wrapping around his waist tightly. “Fair point. But you know who else isn’t watching?”

“Who?” Harry smirked. “The fans.” His leg kicked out and swept under him, dropping sideways into the water. Louis screeched as they fell, batting at Harry’s chest once they were both submerged. He kicked away, swimming towards Niall while Louis sprung up, gasping and pushing his hair out of his face. “Win for Haz!” Liam called, dodging an attack from Louis. They all tangled in the water, Niall trying to pants Liam while Liam tried to push Louis, while Harry was attempting to drag Louis away by his ankles. Zayn watched from shore, chin balanced in his palm, warm grin on his face. By tomorrow, there would be people whining about not seeing them, but there, in that moment, all they cared about was being together. And not drowning, but that seemed like less of a big deal at the time.

~~~~~~~

Once again, Louis and Harry ended up in one bed, but this time they were too tired to question it. By the end of the tour, they might have to actually share a bed, they’d get so used to it. The room was cat friendly, installed with a tall cat tree that Lennon quickly used to get as high as he could. Harry got first shower, seeing as he needed to wash sand out of his hair, (Niall’s fault), and attempt to shake it out of his trunks, (also Niall’s fault). Louis was left to sift through their clothing for something light, but nice enough for dinner. He took it upon himself to set out Harry’s various hair products. He had an odd hair net type thing he wore to sleep sometimes, oils, masks, and creams, expensive things he loved and Louis didn’t bother to keep track of. Though he couldn’t deny it, the products must have been doing good. Harry’s hair was amazing.

Harry blow dried his hair while Louis scrubbed sand out of the many places sand shouldn’t be (still Niall’s fault), before they both got dressed for dinner. “Do we have to eat?” Harry whined, staring at his sandals like they’d offended him. Louis was standing near the window, aggressively patting his hair with a towel. “You know what you’re like if you don’t eat dinner,” he said with a chuckle. The younger boy turned his pout towards him. “Ah, no. Tuck that lip away. You’re going to forget all about being tired once we get some chips in you.”

“I don’t like American food,” he whined. “It’s all greasy, and they don’t have vegetables.”

“I’m sure we can find you a half decent salad somewhere.” The younger boy grumbled nonsensically, but slipped on his sandals and tangled their fingers together. “You’ve fed Lennon, yeah?”

“Yup, he’s got all the kibble he could want. Now come on, I want to see if that seafood special is any good.” He giggled as Louis dragged him to the elevator, revelling in the tingles that ran up his spine when the older boy traced patterns against his bare back.

~~~~~

At dinner, they all enjoyed non alcoholic drinks, and food cooked in so much wine they could still taste it. Liam ended up getting the seafood special, which was a shrimp and mussel pasta. Niall and Harry tried lamb curry, while Zayn smirked at their reactions. Louis got shepherds pie, and Zayn ate the baked macaroni and cheese. All in all, it was a respectful dinner, even with their security standing ominously in the corners of the restaurant, and Paul too busy to eat with them. They were all tired after swimming, playing volleyball, and wrestling on the beach, hence the sand they were all coated in. “How’s your red sugar, Niall?” Louis asked, staring at the mocktail the younger lad had ordered. “Excuse you,” he scoffed. “It’s also orange.”

“Oh, my apologies. How’s your multicoloured sugar?”

“Very good, thank you. It’s mostly fruit.”

“I don’t think that thing has been introduced to the concept of healthy eating.” Niall stuck his tongue out, and scooped some curry onto his naan, before shoving it in his mouth. Liam wrinkled his nose, passing him a napkin quickly. “If you stain one of your shirts this early in the tour, Lou will kill you.”

“So will your mum,” Zayn noted, sneaking another bite of Harry’s mostly untouched curry. He was focusing on his half decent side salad, intending on finishing his actual meal later, which of course meant Zayn was going to finish it, and sometime after 3 AM Harry would wake Louis up and beg him to buy him a bag of crisps from the vending machine down the hall. Louis, of course, would do it without a second thought. He sipped his latest redbull, another thing Liam wrinkled his nose at, and ate some more of his pie. “We’re on America’s Top 40 tomorrow, right?”

“Yup,” Liam hummed, pouring himself some more water. “I’m sure Ryan has missed us since last time.” He said, smirking at Louis. The older boy sniffed indignantly. “Not my fault he’s a prude.”

“He wasn’t a prude, he was a dickhead,” Zayn corrected. “And I still think your reaction was warranted." Liam rolled his eyes, but nodded along with everyone else. The last time they’d been on Top 40, Ryan had been quizzing Liam, Zayn and Niall about their relationships, and made the mistake of referring to Liam’s relationship with his girlfriend at the time as ‘real’. At first, they were all worried that somehow, the believability of their relationship had waned, or someone had leaked their contract. But when questioned Ryan said that a relationship between two boys couldn’t be real, and eventually Louis would end up with a girl, like he should. Louis responded by tugging Harry off of his chair and onto his lap, then kissing him deeply. He was sure to tell Ryan that what was happening in his pants was very real, as was his relationship. Later that day, fans posted pictures of them making out in an alleyway, right outside the radio station.

“He apologized, so don’t you go kicking up a fuss. Management will not be pleased,” Liam hummed, raising an eyebrow. Louis gasped, clasping a hand over his heart.

“I would never! But I can’t control if I get lonely, and can’t help but kiss my boyfriend lots.” Across the table, Harry blushed and bit his lip, attempting to hide a smile.

Chapter Text

After dinner, they all dispersed into their respective rooms, rather than hang out a while longer. They were all exhausted, even filled with sugar and caffeine, and decided taking space early would make the rest of the tour easier. Louis offered Harry his arm, bending at the waist to give him a small bow.

“What are you doing?” He asked, giggling sleepily. “Honouring royalty,” the older boy replied with a smug smile. Harry rolled his eyes, but looped his arm through Louis’ and let the older boy bring him to the elevators. “Want to watch something before we head to bed?” The green eyed boy asked, stepping closer to his boyfriend. “I’m sure we can find something. But you’ll want to do your hair first, won’t you?” Harry smiled sheepishly, and nodded.

“Gonna watch?” Louis shrugged, motioning for him to step out into the hall. Of course he was going to watch. He loved watching Harry do menial tasks, and the routines he had for his skin and hair were especially calming. Someday, he hoped to be able to do it for the younger boy. To make sure he’d never have to lift a pinky.

~~~~

Louis sat on the closed toilet seat while Harry washed his face, and massaged cream and oil into his hair, occasionally turning to the older boy to force products onto him. Back home, he had to do face mask Fridays with him, and let the younger boy pile moisturizer on him every few days. Luckily, he left his hair alone. Harry was muttering to himself as he finished up, absently patting Louis’ hand, which rested on the counter. “You missing something, babe?” The older boy asked, watching as he frowned and dug in his toiletries bag. He grumbled, letting out a soft huff. “I don’t know where my bonnet is…”

“Your what?” Louis asked incredulously. Harry rolled his eyes.

“My shiny hair bag,” he muttered.

“Oh, that thing. I left it on your pillow.” The older boy stood up, brushing past him with a hand on his hip. “Will you help me put it on?” Harry asked, calling after him. Louis returned, clutching the bonnet. “You don’t need to ask, love. Just promise this is the last step, and then we can go to bed.”

“Oh you’re so dramatic,” Harry muttered fondly.

“Yes, this is the last one.” His boyfriend managed a weak smile, and passed him the bonnet, helping him tie it at the base of his skull. He pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, smirking at him in the mirror. “Bedtime?” The younger boy nodded eagerly, and flipped the light in the bathroom off. Louis tugged his shirt off, and dropped it at the foot of the bed, happily crawling under the covers. Harry remained in his regular PJ’s, and leaned halfway over the bed to pout at the older boy. “Goodnight kiss?” Louis playfully bumped his forehead with the heel of his palm, sitting up to lean closer to him.

“How on earth did I forget,” he said with a small smile. Harry shrugged, and gently pressed his lips against him. Against his lips. Again, without anyone watching. And Louis couldn’t help but smile against him. The younger boy pulled off, and flicked off his bedside lamp, climbing under the covers. Louis quickly got his arms around him, and pulled him close, feeling his head rest on his chest. “I love you, Lou,” Harry whispered, not lifting his head. There, in that moment, Louis knew he meant it.

~~~~~

Louis slipped out of bed earlier than normal, before their security was up. Even Lennon ignored him as he crept around their room, getting dressed and writing a note to leave on his pillow. It said that he was going for a walk and out for breakfast, but that Harry had looked too peaceful to wake. Niall would probably come to get him whenever the boys were ready for breakfast. Meanwhile, Louis pulled on regular fitting jeans, and a large black jumper. It was boring trying to look like a regular person. He slipped out of their room, and ducked down the hall. He’d gotten a master key at the front desk when they checked in, something he swore to Paul he would only use for good, Scout's honour.

Obviously the first thing he did with it was break into Niall’s room while he was showering to dump ice on him, but Paul didn’t have to know that. Now, he was using the key to get into Liam’s room. No pranks, he just needed to talk to the younger lad. He opened the door, and rapped his knuckles against it to wake his friend. Liam blinked at him tiredly. “Go away,” he whined, rolling over to hide his face from the bright lights in the hall. Louis grimaced, and shut the door, stepping inside to lean against it. “Sorry, Payno. But do you think you could spare me an hour or two?” Liam rolled back over, eyebrows pressing together. “Why?”

“I need to talk to someone.”

“Talk to Harry,” he whined. “That’s like, his whole job. To listen to you.”

The older boy sighed, and walked to the foot of the bed so the younger one could see him clearly. “Liam,” he whispered, voice weaker than normal. “Please?” At that, he sat up, suddenly wide awake. “Hey, hey,” he whispered, dropping from the bed to the floor, reaching out for his friend. “Are you alright? Did something happen?” Louis shook his head, not even arguing as the brown eyed boys’ large hands cupped his face, tugging him in for a hug. “Is it your family? Or Haz?”

“Harry.” Liam sighed, squeezing him once.

“Alright. You go wait outside, I’ll get dressed and we’ll go for a walk, yeah?” He nodded, letting the younger boy press a kiss to his cheek, before he slipped back out into the hall. It was easy to be soft with the boys; easy to cry, ask for a hug, or simply talk. But with Liam, it was easy to be vulnerable; easy to let the larger boy hold him, listen to him, easy to let everything out. And that was all he needed.

~~~~~

They were both dressed low key, with dark jeans and large sweaters. Liam popped on a hat and a pair of blue light glasses. Louis just let his head hang low as they wandered the street around their hotel in search of food. Every so often, Liam’s hand would fall between his shoulder blades, or he would bump their shoulders, or grab his sleeve to pull him a bit closer. Those soft movements kept him grounded.

“Here look good?” He asked, nodding towards a small café. Louis could smell coffee and cinnamon, and saw a perfect place to fade away. “It’s great.” They ducked through the doors.

Louis ended up with some mediocre tea and a breakfast wrap, while Liam nursed a latte and a large blueberry muffin. “So. Care to tell me why you dragged me out of bed at 6 in the morning?” If anyone else had said it, it would have sounded bothered. But with Liam, he just sounded worried. One of his legs was stretched out under their small table, so he could place his foot next to Louis’. The contact helped more than the younger boy would ever know. His warm eyes never left Louis as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m worried about Harry,” he said finally, scratching a nail against the wood of their table. “He’s not… okay.”

“What do you mean?” Liam’s leg stretched out more so their calves were touching. “I don’t know how to explain it. He just… he gets sad? And he shuts down and he gets weird and I don’t know how to fix it, then he’s okay again, and then he’s kissing me, and he’s happy and I can touch him, but then he’s gone again.” He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. Liam said nothing, simply continuing to stare. “I don’t know how to fix this, Liam,” he whispered weakly, staring at his cooling tea. “I’m not sure if you can.”

“But that’s my job,” he said, beginning to rock back and forth as if he weren’t aware he were doing it. “I’m supposed to protect him, I need to protect him.”

“Lou, you can’t protect him from something in his own head.” The older boy let out a dry sob, bending at the waist to curl around his legs. Liam sighed, and rounded the table to crouch at his feet, reaching out to grab his face again. He isn’t crying, yet, but he’s clearly having trouble breathing.

“Lou?” The younger boy asked, peering into his eyes. Louis just whimpered. “Louis, you gotta breathe for me, mate. Come on, in through your nose, out through your mouth, yeah?” He paused, gently pressing his fingers into the sides of Louis’ neck feeling for his pulse. “You gotta breathe slow, Tommo, your heart is beating too quick. Do it with me,” he says softly, taking Louis’ hands. “In through your nose,” he took in a deep breath, and the older boy attempted to copy him. “Out through your mouth,” he sighed. Shakier, the older boy copied. “Come on, a few more times.”

“Liam,” Louis choked out, squeezing the younger boy's fingers. “Harry keeps kissing me. When we’re alone.” Liam paused, glancing up at him with an odd look on his face. “I don’t know what to do,” he whimpered. “I’m so scared.”

~~~~~~~

They made it back to the hotel just in time to head out to their radio interview. Paul threatened to ground them if they disappeared without warning again, but when Harry called him dramatic, he gave up. As soon as Louis was seated in their little van, Harry was next to him, lifting one leg to hook it over one of Louis’. He grabbed the older boy’s arm, and hugged it to his chest, while lowering his head to his shoulder. Niall leaned over the chair in front of them, one eyebrow raised. “You got enough of him, there, Haz?” Harry stuck his tongue out, mumbling something teasing. Liam kept staring at Louis, forehead creased in concern. He’d sat with him in some far corner of a beach, away from prying eyes for about three hours, rubbing his back as he cried. Clearly, he expected the older boy to remain distraught, to want space to think and be himself; but he let Harry get all tangled up in him, and even reciprocated with a hand on his knee. Louis didn’t know how to ask for space. He didn’t want space. Harry, even though he was the problem, was also what was helping. “Where did you guys go this morning?” He asked curiously, fiddling with the older boy’s fingers. “Just out for breakfast.”

“I couldn’t come?” His voice had gone slightly higher like it did when he was self conscious. Louis forced a soft chuckle. “Of course you could’ve, H. I just didn’t want to wake you after you got so tuckered out at the beach.”

He hummed, and pressed his mouth to the sleeve of his sweater. “Want to get dinner tonight? Just you and me?” He asked, glancing at the younger boy. Harry’s nose wrinkled. “What, like a date?”

He shrugged. “Not a public one, if that’s what you mean.” He ducked his head, tilting it to see the green of his eyes. “For you and me. Not the fans.”

He spoke slow and soft, holding the eye contact so the younger boy knew he meant it. “Just us?” He asked, squinting. “Well we’d have to sneak to go out without security, but yeah. Just you and me.” Harry released his arm and slid down in the chair, laying his head his the older boy’s lap, grinning up at him. “Sure, Boo.” He rolled his eyes at the cheesy nickname, and began gently threading his fingers through the mass of curls in his lap. The day after his huge hair routine, he wouldn’t let anyone near his hair with a brush. Something about ‘settling’ and ‘minimizing the poodle’. No one cared enough to argue with him. But he always let Louis detangle it with his fingers, scratching his scalp with dull nails as he went. The first few times he tried, (before the contract), Harry would viciously fight him off, (bat his hands away gently and whine), screeching about it needing to settle. “Harold, I have little sisters,” the older boy finally huffed, holding his wrists as he pinned him to a couch. “I know how to handle hair.” Harry had squinted at him suspiciously. “If my hair gets brushed, I am going to look like a poodle. Do you want me to look like a dog, Tomlinson?”

“I don’t have a brush, Styles,” Louis cut back. “I’m tired of your complaining once it’s finally safe to brush, if you’ll just let me fix it, your life will be infinitely better.”

Harry gave up that day. Sat begrudgingly on the floor in between Louis’ legs, pretending not to enjoy the gentle way the older boy’s fingers carded through his hair. After that, no one but Louis was allowed to touch his hair while it ‘settled’. He sat up when they reached the radio station, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Well,” Liam sighed, standing up. “Who’s excited?” Everyone cheered drily to appease him.

Chapter Text

The interview was the regular blathering it tended to be. What’s your favourite song, are you enjoying the tour so far, are any of you in relationships, did you like your first album or second better, yada yada yada. They were all mostly zoned out for it, but they laughed, smiled, and answered at the right times. The interviews rarely changed much. But this time, Ryan had something up his sleeve. “So, Harry, Louis, this one is just for you.” He smiled like it was a treat to be singled out. Louis’ hand fell to Harry’s hip, and he pulled his chair closer. “What’s up?” He prompted amicably, feeling Harry tap his hand under the table. He laced their fingers together and squeezed gently. “You started your tour off in London, with two shows in Wembley, correct?”

Something started to squeeze at Louis’ lungs. This wasn’t good. “Yeah, we did, and we’ll be ending our tour there again, with another two shows, so buy your tickets now!” He smiled, and hoped the mic in front of his face wasn’t picking up how fast he was suddenly breathing. It felt like he didn’t have enough air. Ryan chuckled, but it was dry. “Your first show, Louis, you sang some songs for Harry, didn’t you? Last First Kiss, Loved You First, these are clearly for your boyfriend.” On cue, Harry smiled coyly, and kissed Louis’ cheek. “He’s a romantic, this one.”

Ryan said nothing this time, simply flicking his eyebrows up with feigned interest. “Harry, you were with him that whole night, weren’t you? Cozied up for every song,” he sent a dazzling smile to a camera in the corner. They both worked extra hard to school their expressions down from fear. This would end up everywhere, and they couldn’t show anything. “But before that second show, fans witnessed a fight between you two in the lobby of your hotel. Zayn had to step in, didn’t he?” He glanced at Zayn like he was in on some huge joke. Zayn glared in response. “Hey, that’s unfair,” he started, pushing his mic away to tell him to shut up, but Liam put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head minutely. He huffed, but dropped back in his chair. There was a media manager in the other room who would step in if it went too far. It didn’t stop Louis’ breath from quickening even more, and his free hand clenching into a fist. Ryan chuckled again, ignoring the glares from three fifths of the band. Harry kept composed, tilting his head to the side. “I wouldn’t call that a fight, per se. We had just been mobbed, Ryan, I had a severe reaction to it, and Louis reacted as any caring boyfriend might. Unfortunately that wasn’t what I needed, and it worsened. I was lucky to have Zayn there to help me.” The look on his face was condescending, like there was an obvious answer that Ryan had managed to miss. The older man’s nose wrinkled, but he quickly recovered. “What would you call that night’s concert, then? Louis, you spent the whole concert distracted, you missed an entire solo!” He tutted, looking at a blank piece of paper he pretended had notes on it. Louis wanted to shove it down his throat. “Harry spent the whole night ignoring you, that doesn’t seem very healthy. Or like the aftermath of an anxiety attack.”

Louis’ jaw fell open slightly, and his fist tightened even more, nails digging far too deep into his palm. He truly felt like he couldn’t breathe. They all sat in silence staring at the blue eyed boy as he slipped further into his own head. “Oh, that was my fault,” Niall said mildly. He chuckled, grinning at Harry. “I told Haz that Louis had accidentally sent me some of his nudes. Poor boy got jealous.” He shrugged. “To my knowledge, no such nudes exist.”

Ryan blinked while Niall cackled. Harry rolled his eyes, and pulled his boyfriend even closer, holding his hand with both of his own. “So, one direction remains squeaky clean?” They all nodded cheerfully, and the older man let out a forced laugh. “Wonderful! I was worried for a second there.” He told his listeners that the interview was over, and to enjoy one direction’s new album for the next half hour. C’mon C’mon flooded the room, and he stood up, leaving the room without a word. The camera clicked off, and they all sat there, silent. Paul came in, grimacing. “I tried-“

“Don’t.” Liam cut him off quickly. “Tell us later.” He nodded, and stepped back, holding the door open while they filed out. Louis and Harry wouldn’t look at him.

~~~~~

Louis beelined for a bathroom once they were out, shaking off Harry and Zayn’s hands quickly. There was blood under his nails from how hard he’d pressed them into his palm. They boys and Paul were right behind him, Zayn practically stepping on his heels in an effort to keep up. Louis could hear him telling the others to back off, he knew what was going on, and he knew how to help. He pushed into the men’s washroom, ducking against a wall quickly. His head was spinning, and as soon as he was sitting, he found he could barely breathe. When Zayn got like this, they all had roles. Niall would get water, Harry would pet his hair and whisper to him while Louis held him and Liam got him to breathe slower. Paul would guard the door, and give him a big hug once he could breathe again. But Louis had never had a panic attack, at least not with the boys nearby, so their roles were messed up. Liam grabbed a hold of him, carefully prying his nails away from his bloody palms. Niall got a paper towel to wipe his hands down, while Zayn crouched in front of him, large hands coming up to cup his face. “Louis, look at me.”

The older boy blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “Come on babes, it helps, I promise. Look at me.” His eyes danced up to the younger boy’s face, before looking away and dragging themselves back. “There you go,” he hummed. “Now try to breathe slower. I know it hurts, I know it’s scary, but you’ve gotta breathe slow.”

“I… can’t… breathe,” Louis whimpered, blinking as his body began to shake. Against the wall, Harry watched. His boyfriend, his rock, was falling apart on the floor of a radio show’s bathroom, and he’d never been more worried. “You can, babe, I promise, it just feels like you can’t.”

He made a choked sound, more tears spilling down his face. “Zayn, let me try,” Harry said softly, dropping a hand to squeeze his shoulder. The older boy shuffled back, and Harry took his place. “Li? Do you mind?” Liam stood up, going to stand next to Niall and Zayn. Harry took his boyfriend’s face in his hands, gently brushing away his tears away. His breaths weren’t slowing down, but his eyes had finally stuck on Harry’s, and his hands had come up to grip at wrists. “You know, once you walked in while I was crying. You sat in front of me and held my hand until I stopped. You didn’t tell me to stop, you didn’t ask what was wrong, you just let me cry. And I can assure you that as soon as we’re back at the hotel, you can cry as long as you want. But right now, you need to breathe. Can you imagine Niall trying to drag you out of here?”

Behind him, the Irish boy made a soft sound of offence. Louis smiled, even if he was still crying rivers. “If you pass out, your mother will be worried sick. I’ll be worried sick. So breathe with me, will you?”

He held up one finger, and took a deep breath in, before blowing out the air over the tip of his finger. “Copy me.” A weak flow of air hit his finger, and the older boy looked pained. All the boys just nodded encouragingly. He tried again and again until he could breathe again, and his tears had all but slowed. He didn’t say anything as he clambered on top of Harry, just hummed softly as he curled in on himself and rested against his chest. Tentatively, the younger boy squeezed him. “Harder,” he whispered. He gathered his boyfriend on his lap, folding his legs underneath him and comfortably wrapping his arms around him before squeezing him tight to his chest. Louis sighed against him, and flapped a hand at the other boys. They got to the ground, and curled into a hug, Louis stuck in the middle as he shook. Softly, in a stuffed and dry voice, he said, “Niall, you’ll never get my nudes.”

The Irish lad cackled, and kissed his head.

~~~~~

Zayn texted him while they were in the van. It wasn’t much, just a link he assumed lead to a crappy meme. When he clicked it, it was an online test for symptoms of anxiety. He put his phone away.

~~~~~

The dinner date Louis promised Harry ended up being greasy pizza on the floor of their hotel room, and hard iced tea Niall had somehow ended up with. They watched CSI: Las Vegas on the TV, and played smash or pass with the characters. They had a concert that night, so their dinner happened at 5 instead of their usual 7:30, but it was just them, as Louis had promised. The world around their room disappeared as they laughed. They wrestled playfully, tossed a balled up sock for Lennon to chase, and put on karaoke videos from YouTube to dramatically sing along to their own music. Harry tackled Louis into the bed after they butchered Rockstar by Nickelback, shoving his face against his neck. Louis giggled when the younger boy’s breathing tickled against his neck. Harry’s forearms braced against the bed, and he pushed himself up to hover over his boyfriend, grinning. A dopey smile glowed beneath him. He dropped down, nuzzling his face against the soft fabric of Louis’ sweater, his hands gently grasping his waist. “Y’alright, Haz?” The older boy asked softly, smiling down at him. “Cuddle me,” he said back. Louis rolled them over, and squished the younger boy tight against him. He giggled, pushing his nose against Louis’ chest.“Lou?” Harry asked, tilting his head. Louis hummed, staring up at him with adoration. He smirked a bit, lifting one of his hands to touch next to his Adam’s apple with his thumb. “Could I… could I give you a lovebite?”

The older boy choked almost immediately. He coughed, face going red. “Excuse me?” Harry sat up so he could breathe properly, smirking at the other boy. “A lovebite. You’ve given them to Liam, so you can’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, absently stroking the unmarred skin of his neck. He was silent for a while, eyes flicking in between Harry’s eyes and his lips. “Do you even know how?” He finally settled on. Harry snorted. “That’s your only question?”

“It’s a valid question!” He defended. “Your teeth are going to be near my jugular, I want to make sure you know what you’re doing!” The younger boy rolled his eyes, still smiling. “I don’t intend on biting through any major arteries, happy?” Louis hummed once more, biting his cheek. “Yeah, alright, sure.” He lay back against the mattress, lifting his chin up so Harry would have better access. The younger boy blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Yes, you can give me a lovebite.” Harry stared at him skeptically. “Actually?” The older boy groaned and looked up at him, seeming very unimpressed. “You ask me, and still get confused when I say yes.”

“Well in my defence, I expected you to pinch me and run away wailing about being taken advantage of.” Louis chuckled, and nodded.

“I would do that if it were Liam, but you’re not Liam. You’re my beautiful boyfriend offering free neck kisses. What part of that seems bad?” Harry though for a moment, before shrugging. Louis shrugged back. Then Harry’s large hands were cupping his neck, his lips were tracing his pulse point, and his legs were tight around his hips. Louis’ chin jutted farther up, eyes slipping shut. They were expected at the bus in half an hour. Count off ten minutes for them to get dressed, and Louis was going to have to be pinned to the bed for the next 20 minutes with Harry’s lips wandering his neck. This was going to be the longest 20 minutes of his life.

Chapter Text

Changing their pattern, Louis was the cuddly one on stage that night. He neglected his mic in favour of sharing Harry’s. He also neglected his personal space in favour of sharing Harry’s. The younger boy wasn’t bothered, if his bright grin was any indication. He kept his arms wrapped tight around Louis’ upper chest, leaning over him to sing into the mic whenever it was his turn, and nestling his face in the crook of the older boy’s neck whenever he wasn’t. Louis was vaguely aware of Harry’s lips tracing patterns on his skin, but for once, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if Harry was doing it for the fans, or simply because he felt like it. He didn’t know if the way his fingers slipped under the top of his shirt to trace his collarbone was meant to be seen or not. He didn’t know if when Harry kissed him, it was because they were “together”, or because he wanted them to be together. And he didn’t care. So he rolled his eyes with a smile while his boyfriend kissed his neck, reached up to hold his free hand when his other was under his shirt, and happily held his face when he leaned down to kiss him.

“You taste like Gatorade,” Harry muttered into his mouth, chuckling as he sucked on his bottom lip.

“Oh fuck off,” Louis hummed, running his fingers along the younger boy’s jaw.

“It’s cute,” he said softly. He lowered his head to touch their foreheads, smiling dopeily. “What flavour?” Zayn asked, smirking at them from across the stage. “Your mic is picking up everything.”

Louis blushed, but Harry just grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. For a few moments, the arena shook with screams. He pulled away, face flushed and a proud smirk on his lips. “Blue raspberry, for those interested,” he said into the mic. “Just so none of you are tempted to kiss him just to find out.” The older boy rolled his eyes and grabbed his hip, tugging him close to kiss him once more.

“I’m all yours, babe.” He couldn’t tell if he was still acting, and didn't want to know. But the glimmer in Harry’s eyes, the way his arm tightened around him, that couldn’t be faked. God, Louis was fucked.

~~~~~~

For a while, they were fine. Louis and Zayn talked about anxiety, and looked into getting him a diagnosis once they were back in the UK. Harry, while not doing great, was doing good. Louis knew it was probably unhealthy, his and Harry’s attachment. Waking up with someone else, doing the domestic dance of sharing a space, it was hypnotic. Harry was hypnotic. He kept dragging the older boy off to dance with him on stage, and not the way he’d twirk on Niall just to annoy Louis, but a slow, soft dance that left their chests touching and their hands tangled. Their knees would bump as they moved, they’d nearly trip on the wires all over, but the eye contact was electric. His green eyes, heavy lidded, peering at him through a thick layer of eyelashes… the dance would always stop when Louis had to kiss him. Which of course normally meant Harry tripped over a wire, and they ended up on the floor, lips only a breath apart. Even though they’d been together for nearly a year and a half, the headlines started up again. Pictures of them holding hands, kissing mindlessly and staring at each other like they’d been together for 50 years. Everyone thought they would be married within the next year. Sometimes, Louis caught himself staring at Harry’s hands, wondering what he would look like with a ring on his finger; accompanied by the ones he already wore. Most people wouldn’t notice immediately. But Louis would. His ring.

Harry blinked up at him, a small smirk curling on his lips. Louis had zoned out again, still hovering over him while he reached for his mic in the most inconvenient way possible.

“Good morning, baby,” the younger boy murmured. “Have a nice rest?”

Louis rolled his eyes, grabbing his mic, and returning to his spot on the bench. “Kiss?” He asked softly, turning to look at his boyfriend. Harry smiled and obliged. They weren’t on stage yet, and the only other person in the room was a stylist, who didn’t even look up. That was how domestic they’d become. They kissed each other hello and goodbye, they kissed for luck before shows, they kissed nearly as much off camera as they did on. “What are you thinking about?” Harry asked, crossing his legs. Louis dumped himself into the chair across from his boyfriend, fiddling with his mic. “I’m not sure. Just the tour, I suppose.”

The younger boy didn’t believe him at all. “It’s our second one, Lou, we know what we’re doing. Don’t get all worried about it.” I’m thinking the same as you, his eyes said. He hummed, staring at his hands. The fans were screaming from outside, a sound that had become something like a soundtrack. There was a camera that broadcast the crowd to their change rooms. Already, Louis could see the signs about marriage and ‘Larbies,’ otherwise known as Larry Babies, and even more about how they were an inspiration to queer kids. Those signs were the worst. Harry had said they scared him, that their fake relationship was so important to people, but they scared Louis too. He knew that his feelings weren’t fake, but the relationship was. And he couldn’t deal with being a fraud of inspiration.

~~~~~

After bouncing around stage, having water fights with Liam, and dancing with Harry for three hours, Louis was exhausted. He just wanted to collapse into bed and fall asleep while Harry showered, sure to have an armful of boy once he was all clean. But then Harry’s phone buzzed. Once, twice, and the soft musical notes of a ringtone came from it. His mother’s ringtone. Louis sighed. Harry never took family calls in the room, he said it was because he wanted his family to have him alone, but really it was because his family hated his boyfriend. This meant that Harry was going to pace up and down the hall outside their room for 45 minutes while talking to his parents, which meant Louis was going to have to stay up even later to wait for him. The younger boy would always update him on the happenings of Manchester, and sweetly dance around all the digs his family made about him. He scooped up his phone happily, thrumming with excitement. “Mum, hi!” His mum spoke into his ear, and his smile faded slightly. He ducked out of the room quickly. Louis sighed. That meant his family had seen the concert, or at least clips of it. He rubbed his face, sitting up fully to avoid falling asleep. Lennon jumped up on the bed, settling peacefully on the available lap. “Hey there big man,” he whispered.

“How much shit do you think I’m in this time?” He flicked his ear, and rested his head on his crossed paws. “That’s not positive.” He purred.

When Harry returned, his jaw was tense and his teeth gritted, his knuckles straining white with how tightly he was holding his phone. Louis was definitely in a load of shit. “Haz? What’s wrong?”

The boy turned to look at him, and his gaze was cold. “Don’t call me that,” he muttered, dropping his phone down and pacing the room. Under his hand, Lennon’s back tensed, and Louis could see his tail fluffing up with fear. “Okay…” he said slowly, “are you gonna come to bed?”

“No.” Louis’ lungs burned at the rejection, but he didn’t let it show on his face. “You can’t pull another all nighter.”

“I wasn’t going to! God, can you just back off and let me think?” The green eyed boy snapped, stomping on the ground. Normally, it would have looked cute, like a kid realizing they weren’t going to get the candy they wanted, but that time it looked threatening. Lennon’s tail fluffed up even more. “Don’t yell at me, I was just asking a question.”

“No you weren’t! You were trying to protect me or some shit, but that’s not how it works! I’m not a baby you need to look after, Tomlinson. Leave me the hell alone.” Being referred to by his last name was cutting. Harry barely called him ‘Louis’ let alone mentioned his last name. It was almost like when his mum would yell his full name down the hall when he was really in trouble. But this wasn’t his mum, it was Harry, it was his boyfriend. “I’m not looking after you, I’m looking out for you. And I’m not going to leave you alone, you’re my boyfr-“

“Don’t even fucking say it,” Harry shouted. At once, Lennon was up, back arched and tail thick as he howled at his boy, hissing aggressively. He swatted at the younger boy, who stumbled back in shock. Lennon always took his side, even when he was being ridiculous. He never sided with Louis. The older boy jumped up, wrapping the cat up in his arms and dragging him away from Harry. He was still growling, but it was less pronounced with Louis’ arms muffling him. Harry still looked shocked. “You are my boyfriend, even if it’s fake,” Louis said quietly, suddenly feeling unstable. Then, Harry was blazing, his shock at Lennon’s reaction completely gone. He grabbed a pillow off the couch and launched it at the wall. Louis flinched. “I’m not your boyfriend! I’m a boy toy, a fuck slave of the media!” He shouted. “I’m not yours! And I never fucking will be, you fucking fag!” He took a deep breath, but it was obvious he wasn’t done. He sneered, and Louis couldn’t even recognize him; his boy was lost in the mess of a depressive episode that was in front of him. “Fucking queer,” he hissed.

Louis slapped him.

He had been called some pretty horrible things since they became a ‘couple’. All the insults under the sun had been thrown at him, but it had never really affected him. Sure, he was gay, but they didn’t really know that. His relationship with Harry placed a buffer between him and reality. But when Harry said it, called him a queer, a fag, it hit hard. He was the first one in the band he’d come out to, and Harry had yet to claim any sort of queer identity, so it felt just as bad as a straight person saying it. He barely even noticed he had a key in his hands and was walking to the door until he had to pause. Lennon seemed unbothered by being away from Harry, instead curling up around Louis’ neck, looking sad. Louis was shaking a little bit, but he was still as he turned to look at Harry, face blank. The other boy was frozen, a hand on his cheek covering the red mark sure to grow there. “Friendly fucking reminder,” he said, soft enough to not wake anyone but loud enough Harry could hear him. “You kissed me first.” Then he closed the door, and headed to Liam’s room. The younger boy was awake, and opened the door before he even knocked. Lennon jumped off his shoulders and settled on the couch in the room. Louis let himself fall into Liam, let himself cry, yell like he wanted to, let everything out that Harry had thrown at him. Niall and Zayn appeared out of nowhere, surrounding him easily, wrapping him in their arms. They all slept in the same bed that night, Louis nestled in the middle, covered in arms and legs and peace. He would’ve liked to stay there forever.