Archive of Our Own

“It's so weird to see you two in the same room,” Niall says, stopping in the doorway of the meeting room.

Both Harry and Louis ignore him.

“You weren't invited,” Oli says, turning in his chair and looking at him.

“I'm here for support. And they're going to tell me everything anyway, so it will save us all time if I just can join you?” Niall shrugs, plopping down in the chair next to Harry and bumping fists with Louis sitting opposite him at the long table.

“Fine,” Oli says, irritated.

“You look like shit,” Niall whispers to Harry, bringing him closer by the shoulder and kissing his temple.

He's been crying a lot this week, to be honest. His work trip to LA was absolute shit in general. When he landed, the first message he received was from his mum saying that their old cat, Missy, was dying, and now he was stuck in another country. Then someone stole his wallet and his favourite sunglasses. The last straw was the call he got from Zayn, just ten minutes before boarding the airplane to return to London, telling him he needed to head straight to the office as soon as he landed; because a sex tape of him with his ex had been leaked!

So yes, Harry had plenty of reasons to cry.

“Niall!” Oli raises his voice. “There will be no second warning for you.”

Oli's stressed, which is not surprising. After all, Harry's his most promising client. Or was.

“Yeah, sorry,” Niall says, lifting his hands in a surrender.

They've spent about twenty minutes, filling everyone in on the problem and discussing how bad the situation is. Harry suspected that it would be bad, he had plenty of time on the plane to think about it. But in reality, the amount of attention they get is a fucking catastrophe.

Gabriel says it's no wonder. They'd been the most iconic couple for two years, and their sudden break up was the most discussed thing for months. A lot of fans still haven't got over it. They still get excited at random photo dumps from the past and now it's a whole video. Spicy and scandalous.

“We could say it's a deepfake,” Caren offers, looking into her phone. “It's pretty dark, you can't see faces, just the outlines of tattoos. We can insist they're just actors who used AI.”

Harry feels nauseous again. Everyone in this room watched that video. His mum probably saw the news. His friends. His school teacher too. And Louis' sisters. Harry slides down in his chair and hugs himself, blinking fast when he feels his eyes watering again.

Oli hums approvingly.

“What do you think about it?” Oli asks, looking between Harry and Louis.

Harry still tries to process the question which is challenging itself, considering how devastated, exposed and humiliated he feels, when Louis starts speaking.

“Honestly? I don't give a fuck,” he says nonchalantly. Harry can't see his eyes because he wears sunglasses and half of his face is covered with a hood, but something tells him that it's his honest opinion. And it hurts. Also it makes Harry angry and reminds him why Louis is his ex. Because he didn't care about Harry's feelings. Obviously, it wasn't always like that, but the last few months of their relationship Harry spent crying almost non-stop.

It's not like Harry could expect that Louis would care this time. He's surprised to see him here at all. Louis' missed tons of his own meetings back then just because he didn't want to be there or thought that they were boring or pointless. He didn't have Louis beside him when he needed him. So yes, Harry genuinely doesn't see any reason why he's here, he didn't even bring his manager or publicist.

“Of course you don't,” Harry mumbles, miffed. On top of everything else, Louis' image has been fucked up for years, and possibly nothing can make it any worse.

He's been accused in using and selling drugs, attacks on journalists, he's been arrested twice. The list is endless. So a random sex video is like a drop in the ocean.

“I mean… We look fucking hot there. And I'm kind of proud how good I fucked you that night. Probably, our best video.”

Suddenly, Harry feels hot and excited, his cheeks quickly get red. Not only because everyone is staring at them, but also because he remembers that night clearly. The foreplay, the act, the aftercare. This video is literally a two minute spoiler to the night full of passion, and every second of it is still captured in his memory. He's never felt more loved, and probably that's why it affects him so hard now. If that was any other video, he would be more indifferent. Or at least he thinks so.

Louis doesn't even try to suppress a smug smile that triggers the feelings that Harry tried to run away from. He's pleased with himself or maybe he's satisfied to see the flush on Harry's cheeks. He loved making Harry blush in public, whispering dirty and unexpected things. They were that annoying couple.

“Wait. Are there other videos?” Niall asks, looking between two of them.

Harry keeps looking at Louis, Louis is definitely looking at him through the tinted glasses, judging by the angle of his head and a smirk.

They both know there are dozens of videos on Harry's second phone. They've always been cautious.

“You're filthy bastards!” Niall laughs. “Is there a chance that they can be leaked too?”

They've already discussed that's not possible before Niall came.

“No,” Louis says. “But if you ever want to watch them…”

“Guys, shut up,” Oli says irritably. “We can't just let it go. It can be damaging for Harry's image.”

“Harry can tweet something, and then we'll release a couple of articles,” Caren says, looking up. Harry meets her eyes for a brief second before she turns away, definitely embarrassed.

“What do you think?” Oli asks, looking at Harry.

And fuck. Harry doesn't know. It sounds good, but a lot of questions and doubts pop up in his head. Louis has always been better at things like that. He was the one who made final decisions about their public appearances. He didn't give a fuck about his own image, but he was really protective about Harry's. After all, it's only thanks to him that people still know Harry's name.

When Louis looks at Harry, Harry's already looking back. Pleading with his eyes and hoping that Louis will take mercy on him. He needs his guidance right now and he needs his support.

Louis clears his throat.

“I think that could work,” he says quietly. To Harry rather than everyone else. “Everyone thinks we had wild and kinky sex-life anyway.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Niall crackles.

Harry tries to hide his embarrassment. Sometimes they did have wild and passionate sex, a bit kinky, but most of the time it wasn't like that at all.

“Yeah, okay,” Harry nods to Oli. “But I'm not sure I can come up with anything right now.”

“I'll do it,” Rose says, her fingers quickly tapping on the keyboard to log in Harry's account.

“Read it outloud before posting,” Oli orders, taking his own phone.

“Are we done?” Louis asks, moving his chair back. “Can I already go?”

“Not yet,” Oli says.

“Why should I listen to you?” Louis groans. “You're not even my boss.”

Oli doesn't say anything back.

“Can I have coffee at least? We've been here forever.”

Harry frowns. There's a coffee machine right behind the door that is free to use. He doesn't need to ask. Yet, Harry keeps quiet. Even when Niall stands up.

“I'll get it for you,” he says, patting Louis' shoulder a few times as he passes by.

“Thanks, Niall.”

Harry studies Louis' face, absorbing familiar details that he still hasn't forgotten. It seems like he kissed those freckles just a few days ago and rubbed his nose with his own just this morning. He almost hasn't changed except for his hair which seems a bit longer now.

It was a mistake to look at Louis so directly because it draws Louis' attention straight back to Harry. Harry's heart starts beating fast, expecting an attack.

“What does your boyfriend think about the whole situation?” Louis asks, tilting his head to the side. He leans a long way back in his chair and interlaces his fingers on his abdomen.

He looks like he's the boss here, and it does things to Harry's insides.

“What?” Harry frowns.

“Hunter. What does he think?”

“Fiancé,” Harry corrects quietly.

Louis stills for a second.

“Right,” he huffs and looks down, at Harry's hand, and Harry covers his bare ring finger. “Fiancé.”

Harry squints his eyes at the obvious sarcasm.

“What's with your tone?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you judging me or what?” he asks protectively.

“Why would I?” Louis lifts his eyebrows, but it's obviously just another dose of sarcasm. “You're probably judging your own choice. I think that's enough for you.”

Deep inside, Harry was so happy to see Louis that he forgot how unbearable he can be when you're not in his team. And Harry hasn't been there for a long time.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“What are the chances of you breaking up with a partner you've been dating for years and then marrying another person within three months because you've realized that you met the love of your life and you want to spend the rest of your days with them?”

Harry doesn't say anything. He looks around and notices that people are trying to pretend that they don't pay attention, but they definitely have heard everything. Harry meets Oli's sympathetic eyes and stands up, taking his phone.

“Harry,” Oli calls for him weakly.

“I need to make a fucking call,” his voice is almost steady which is a progress.

Harry had hoped that Zayn would be the one to hold the meeting because he's more neutral, whereas Oli's always been Louis' best friend. But Zayn isn't here at all. Sure, Harry has Niall at his side and they are close, but Niall was friends with Louis for years before Harry met both of them. So it's fucking furstrating to feel unsupported around his own team.

“That was too much,” he hears Oli's voice as he exits the room.

“Harry, where–” Niall asks, looking at him wide-eyed when they run into each other.

“Got to pee,” Harry snaps.

In the bathroom, Harry closes the door and turns on the cold water, running his hands under the stream.

He knew they couldn't stay friends after the way things ended between him and Louis, but he thought they were more civilised. Can avoiding each other be considered as a civilised communication? He supposes not. Not with Louis.

Anyway, the truth is, Harry still hasn't talked to Hunter properly. He's got twenty three missed calls from him and fifty six messages that he hasn't read. He simply texted Hunter that he'd landed and was heading to the meeting, not filling him in on any details. After that he got eight more messages that are also unread.

It's not that Harry's worried about Hunter's reaction. And not that he's worried about Hunter's feelings. It's just… The thing is, Hunter and Louis had some sort of a beef in the past, which is why he never mentions Louis to Hunter and they ignore his existence even though they both have plenty of memories of him. It's just awkward, and there are already plenty of other things that are awkward enough.

Pressing his cold palms to the back of his neck, Harry realizes that on his way from the airport all his thoughts were about meeting Louis. Just before he arrived, Oli had texted confirming that they were all waiting for him, including Louis, which was absolutely shocking. He was a bit nervous about seeing him for the first time after the breakup, but more than that he felt relieved, because next to Louis, problems never felt significant. Somehow he made it seem like the only horrible thing that can happen to someone is death, and right now everyone is alive.

So even if he keeps treating Harry like a shit, Harry prefers him to stay anyway.

Harry wipes his neck with a paper towel and takes a deep breath, looking into the mirror. His eyes are swollen, and he's disgusted with his own face. It's not like he can do something about it, so he turns away and leaves the bathroom before he can change his mind and flush himself down the toilet to teleport him somewhere where there are no problems.

It takes two more hours for Oli to finish the meeting. By that time, Harry's back and head are hurting and the jet-lag makes itself fully known. He's grateful for Niall's presence because he does a good job with cheering him up. And even though some of his jokes are absolutely out of place, Harry's grateful for his ability to make it feel like nothing terrible happened.

Louis, who decided to take a nap right in the chair, doesn't bother them, and Harry takes his time appreciating him. He looks soft in his sleep, and Harry finds himself wishing he could curl up in his lap. His heart stings at the thought that right now he would give anything to be able to nuzzle in his neck. Even though it's not possible, Harry's still grateful that he came. He may be stressed, but Louis' presence gives him inner calmness. He doesn't look alarmed at the situation so Harry involuntarily mimics his stance.

Finally, Oli announces the end of the meeting, which Louis doesn't hear. A few displeased wrinkles appear on his forehead when Harry nudges his feet with his own under the table.

“We can go,” Harry says gently before Louis has a chance to snap at him.

“Oh,” he clears his throat, stretches his neck, and his expression softens. “Finally.”

Everyone leaves a room until it's just Oli, Niall and the two of them left.

“It's gonna be fine,” Oli says to Harry, moving to sit down in the chair next to him and squeezing his shoulder. He doesn't sound like his boss this time, more like a caring friend, but fortunately or not Harry barely considers him one. He's a good boss, a good person, but they're not friends.

It's hard to believe in Oli's words right now, so he just shrugs.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Oli says, removing his hand from Harry's shoulder. “Do you need a car or is Hunter coming for you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Louis stiffening in his place at the mentioning of Hunter's name.

“He's not, so that would be great,” he says.

“Niall, can you check if someone's available now?” Oli asks.

“I could give you a lift,” Louis says suddenly, clearing his throat but not looking at him. “If you want to.”

“Oh,” Harry swallows hard. It's probably a bad idea, but something makes him nod. “Thank you.”

“I just need to talk to Oli for a few minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry nods, standing up. “I'll be outside.”

Niall follows him out the door. He hugs him tight and promises that everything's going to be alright before leaving him alone.

Harry doesn't hear what Louis and Oli are talking about, but he hears Louis' laughter and it makes his heart hurt. He's fucking missed his voice and his energy, and he realises that he missed his smile when Louis exits the meeting room with a wide grin.

Harry's so consumed by his overwhelming emotions that he doesn't notice a pair of crutches in Louis' hands right away.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Harry asks, unable to contain his surprise.

“Fell from the skateboard,” Louis grumbles, waving him in the direction of elevators.

“Does it hurt?” Harry asks, feeling the need to take care of Louis. Because that's something he used to do often.

“Oh, stop it,” Louis groans, rolling his eyes.

“Stop what?”

“Worrying about me. I know that look.”

Harry bites his lip. They come closer to the elevator and Harry presses the button, looking at Louis again. He isn't wearing a cast so it seems that it's not broken, but Harry doesn't dare to ask.

“How do you always get yourself in trouble?” he sighs while they're waiting for the lift.

“Trouble loves me,” Louis shrugs. “I am a magnet for trouble.”

“Indeed,” Harry huffs.

When doors open, he lets Louis go in first, but Louis doesn't move. He stops the door with a crutch and waits for Harry. When Harry tries to reach for the ground floor button, Louis presses it himself. Harry takes a deep breath to calm his irritation, but just taking another glance at Louis makes annoyance fade away. He doesn't do it to spite Harry. It's just the way he is. Taking the lead and caring so much.

“You're not driving, are you?” Harry asks. He wouldn't be surprised though, just because he knows Louis.

“I have the worst hangover ever, still drunk probably, so no.”

Harry bites his tongue and doesn't question it even though there is so much he wants to ask. Both of them are quiet as they go out to the parking lot where Paul's already waiting for them.

“Harry, nice to see you,” he says cheerfully, a big familiar smile on his face.

“Nice to see you too, Paul,” Harry smiles back, climbing in the backseat as Paul opens the door for Louis and takes the crutches from him.

“Do you still live in the same place?” Louis asks when they are both inside.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, and Paul enters the address into the navigator.

Harry checks his phone and texts his mum that he'll call her later. They exchange a few more messages and when Harry locks his screen and takes a peek at Louis, he can't see his face because of the hood. He's definitely not open for a conversation and Harry suspects that Louis' going to take a nap, so he closes his eyes too, leaning against the headrest.

He lets himself pretend that he and Louis are not at odds. That they're just going home after spending another day together. Home as in Louis place. Because in spite of Harry having his own house, he used to spend most of his time at Louis'.

He's so deep in thought that he jumps a little when Louis clears his throat.

“I'm sorry for what happened,” Louis says quietly.

For a second, Harry thinks he's misheard. He turns to Louis and sees him playing with his fingers. His shoulders are relaxed and a bit slumpy, and now – without prying eyes – he looks like a person Harry knew behind closed doors.

Something flutters in Harry's chest and he holds onto this glimpse of him.

“It's fine,” he says back softly.

“It's not really fine, is it?” Louis says, looking at him. He's still wearing his sunglasses, and more than anything in this moment Harry wishes he could see his eyes.

He sighs. There was plenty of time to come to terms with it. It's not fine, but they've done everything they could and now he just needs to wait until the hype dies down.

“It's not,” he says. “But I don't blame you. Could happen to anyone.”

Louis huffs.

“It didn't happen to you, though, they hacked my cloud drive, not yours. I'm the one who always gets everyone in trouble. Myself, you.”

Harry wants to protest, but he knows that Louis' right.

“I mean…” Harry licks his lips. “It wasn't intentional, yeah?”

“No. I would never do that to you,” Louis says without hesitating.

“That's all I need to know.”

Even after the argument they had back at the office, Harry's still not surprised that they can hold a conversation when they want to. Louis can be a dick, he can be obnoxious and bratty with everyone. He's not the easiest person, everyone knows that, but for Harry it's never been like that. With him, Louis has always been the most caring and most loving person Harry's known. And apparently, all alone, he is still that guy Harry knows. The guy Harry's lost.

Harry swallows hard.

“So… How have you been?” he asks, glancing at Louis.

“Harry,” he winces.

“What?”

“Let's just… keep quiet. If we start talking, we'll start fighting and I don't want to fight.”

Harry wants to protest but he doesn't have the energy or desire to fight either.

“Okay.”

Harry turns away and looks out of the window hoping to find a distraction, but as soon as he's left alone with his thoughts, his anxiety starts increasing again. He hugs himself tightly to find some comfort when he feels the tugging on his sleeve. He turns to Louis who silently offers him his palm, not even looking in his direction.

Harry loses his breath. Without thinking about it, he reaches over and lightly rests his hand on Louis' on the empty seat between them. He lets our a shuddering breath and blinks fast to prevent his tears falling.

There is a lump in his throat and he doesn't trust his voice, so he gently squeezes his fingers around Louis' in a silent 'thank you'. To his surprise Louis' squeezes back just as softly. It's enough to remind them they can be there for each other no matter what.

During the year they were friends and the following two years of dating, they lived through a lot of shit, and it has become so natural for them to gravitate to each other when in need of comfort. And what Harry loved most, was that he never needed to ask for Louis' touch.

Looking out of the window, Harry realizes that it's the first time in months that he doesn't feel alone. Louis may not care about the video, but he knows that Harry does. He could have easily skipped the meeting, but he went. And even though Harry knows that Oli could have made him attend, he hopes that Louis wanted to be there.

He wishes he could ask Paul to reduce speed or take a detour so he could stay in this moment longer, but he knows that's not an option for him anymore. He even has an awful thought that if they'd crashed right now, he and Louis would stay together forever.

When the car stops at Harry's house, Louis is the first one who breaks the contact. He puts his palms under his thighs and looks at Harry warily. He takes off his glasses, and Harry feels vulnerable under his bare gaze.

“So… I'll see you at Niall's birthday?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, too quickly and eagerly. “Thank you for the ride. And for, you know. For coming today and… everything else,” he mumbles.

“No problem,” Louis says with a small smile.

For a few moments Harry just sits there, looking at Louis expectantly. He would love to get a hug. A tiny one. But time passes and Louis doesn't move. He also doesn't hurry him, but the heavy silence is oppressive. Harry considers asking him to have a coffee together, but he doesn't like his chances.

“Well… Be safe,” Harry says then, nodding to Louis' leg.

Louis rolls his eyes. Rather playfully than annoyed this time.

“We both know it's not possible.”

“We do,” Harry says and finally opens the door. “Bye, Paul.”

With Louis, they've always been kind of inseparable, and it made sense not to say hellos and goodbyes, so Harry doesn't say it now either.

Harry gets out of the car just as Louis calls for him. “Harry.”

“Yeah?” he says hopefully, turning to him too quickly.

“I'm one call away if you need me.”

Harry doesn't trust his voice when he feels a scratching in his throat, so he just quickly nods before leaving.

━━━

Entering the house, Harry makes himself a cuppa and calls his mum to assure her that he's alright. She's more worried than angry or upset. She tells Harry that she loves him and rants about the cruelty of the world. He expected her to be defensive about him and saying unpleasant things about Louis as she used to do sometimes, but she doesn't do it this time. To Harry's surprise, she asks if Louis is okay.

They keep talking a little and after saying goodbye Harry goes to take a shower. It's been a long, exhausting day. He took a restless nap on the plane, but there's little chance that he'll fall asleep now after all the stress. He takes a sleeping pill and gets under the sheets. Finally, he grabs his phone to call Hunter. He hasn't read the messages, so he doesn't know what to expect, but he finds himself not caring much about it.

It takes less than five seconds for Hunter to answer it.

“Baby,” a familiar voice comes through.

“Hi,” Harry says, wearily.

“How are you?” Hunter asks.

“Jet-lagged,” Harry says shortly.

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

“I mean… Other than that?”

Harry sighs heavily. It's not that he's trying to ignore the sex-tape incident. He just doesn't know what to say.

“We don't have to talk about it now,” Hunter says hurriedly. “I just wanted to be sure that you, you know… Didn't jump out of a window or swallow a pack of pills?”

Harry goes numb for a few seconds. He had mental health problems in the past, but he's never talked openly about it with Hunter. Harry's always been sort of self-conscious about it, and he's definitely not comfortable with it now.

“I'm fine,” he says when he comes back to his senses. “But I'm exhausted.”

“Are you in your bed?”

Harry closes his eyes which makes his headache more bearable.

“Yep.”

“I'll see you tonight?”

And Harry hates that he feels obligated to say yes. He'd preferred to workout or clean his room or cook something alone to relieve stress, or call some of his friends who would be willing to cuddle for hours while staying in bed and watching something dumb that could help distract him. Watching sports channels with Hunter won't make him feel distracted.

“Yeah. Do you have my spare keys with you?” Harry asks instead. Maybe Hunter will be generous with hugs today. “I'm gonna take a nap and you just come whenever you can.”

“Okay,” Hunter says simply.

“See you,” Harry says. He's ready to hang up when Hunter calls for him. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” he says.

For some reason, it's so hard to say those three words back. Harry fakes his smile to sound less suspicious, even though Hunter can't see it.

“Love you too,” he forces himself to say.

Harry doesn't go to sleep right away. Louis would call him a masochist if he'd known that Harry opens Twitter. He enters 'Louis Tomlinson skateboard' in the search tab, knowing for sure that there will be a video of the accident. As a rule, there are always one or two from different angles.

While they still were together, there wasn't a week Louis didn't injure himself. For him, bruises, bandages and stitches were an integral part of having fun which Harry tried but couldn't understand.

He remembers begging Louis to be more careful, sitting at his hospital bed with his head on Louis' knees. Caressing Harry's hair, Louis swore to be less reckless only to break his promise the next day.

At some point Harry got used to stains of blood on Louis' clothes or late night texts from him or his friends on the way to the hospital to take an MRI. He even started enjoying taking extra care of Louis when he was injured. It was his way of paying Louis back for all the times that Louis took care of them in every other aspect of their lives since Louis always seemed better adapted to both celebrity and ordinary life.

Louis' frivolous behaviour was also one of the reasons Harry's family and friends kept pressing on him: 'Who in his mind is going to build a family with him? He's literally a big child!' his mum said once.

And even though Harry didn't consider Louis a child, that thought stuck with him for a while, making him question his choices. He wanted to have a family and he wanted to have kids. But was he confident enough in Louis to have all of it with him? Usually the answer was yes, but he couldn't do anything to calm the doubts that had been sown. They were growing and twining him like ivy, making it hard to breathe.

Returning to his phone, Harry shakes his head and focuses on the screen. The first thing he sees is Louis' tweet, saying 'thank you' to his fans and assuring that he's alright and confirming that it's just a sprained ankle and not a broken bone.

Harry must be a masochist after all, because he doesn't stop at that. He keeps scrolling until he finds the video. His thumb hovers over the screen while he gains the courage to open it.

It's a video uploaded by a fan who was teaching Louis some tricks. On the screen, Louis is smiling, and Harry catches himself smiling back. He's definitely having fun, and he's definitely a bit tipsy judging by how loud he is. There's a bottle of beer in his hand that Oli tries to take from him but doesn't succeed.

The fall isn't as bad as Harry thought. Beer splashes all over the ground as the bottle breaks, a few shards cut Louis' hand, but he's laughing. He's so fucking happy there. Harry loved having fun with him. He's always been the funniest and the best person to be around. Harry's favourite person in the world.

Harry puts his phone aside and pulls the blanket up to his shoulders. He wraps his arm around himself and puts his left palm under his right cheek, caressing the skin with his thumb. He lets the familiar feeling soothe his anxiety before moving his palm forward until his fingertips are touching the nape and his thumb is pressed in the hollow at the base of his ear. Harry takes two deep breaths in and slowly lets them out.

It's the way Harry got used to rocking himself to sleep when he was all alone; but also it's the way Louis loved to hold him.

Thinking back, Harry doesn't think it was as bad as it felt at the time. They worked well together. Letting out a shuddering breath, Harry wonders if one year ago he made the right choice. It wouldn't be hurting so much if he did, right? He wouldn't be thinking about it as much as he does.

Harry thought that he's already cried out all the tears today, but when he presses his face into the pillow, he feels the fabric getting damp.

When Harry wakes up, there are flowers in the vase on his bedside table. He winces. He'd prefer to wake up wrapped in a hug rather than alone in his bed looking at lilies that are Hunter's favourite and not his. It's probably too late in their relationships to tell him the last part though, so Harry just sighs.

Harry takes a couple of minutes just to himself before leaving bed and facing reality.

Hunter is watching hockey and eating a sandwich when Harry enters the kitchen. He mutes the game and smiles at Harry, turning to him and spreading his legs widely so Harry can step between them.

He tastes like tuna and coke when his tongue slips into Harry's mouth right away. Harry tries not to wince as he takes a step back and slumps in the chair right beside him.

“Hi,” Hunter says. His expression is normal as if nothing had happened, and Harry wonders if it's a good sign or if it's just the quiet before the storm. With Hunter, he never knows.

“Mghm,” Harry hums, helping himself to a sandwich from Hunter's plate and taking a bite.

“That's mine,” Hunter protests and grabs his can of soft drink so Harry wouldn't reach for it too. “Make yourself one if you want.”

Harry hasn't had anything for a whole day except for some water and a cup of tea. He knows he should eat something, but he's not hungry, and Hunter's words only make it harder to swallow his bite.

“I wanted yours,” Harry says simply, leaning back.

The sandwich is dry, but Harry doesn't find it in himself to stand up and get another drink.

“I didn't miss you,” Hunter says in a playful tone and takes his sandwich back.

It's off-putting and definitely not funny at all to say that even as a joke.

“Didn't miss you too,” Harry says seriously, making Hunter grin.

“How was the meeting?” Hunter asks, jumping right to the topic Harry was trying to forget about.

Harry doesn't see the point in lying, so he just tells the truth.

In general, Hunter's nice about the whole situation. He says that he hasn't watched the video and is not going to. Harry's not sure if he is trying to respect him or if he's disgusted to see him with Louis, but he's fine with it either way.

“Are you sure he didn't leak your video intentionally?” Hunter asks incredulously.

Harry nods without any hesitation.

“Yeah,” he says.

Hunter doesn't look convinced though.

“Just… I know him. That's why I'm asking.”

Anger boils up in Harry's insides. Probably no one knows Louis better than him, and he's never given a reason not to trust him. Louis has morals.

“I know him too,” he says defensively. 'I know him better,' he wants to add.

“Fine,” Hunter huffs.

Harry watches as Hunter stands up.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks.

“I want to lay down for a bit,” he says, throwing the can in the bin. “Coming?”

“Will I get my hugs?” he asks hopefully.

“Depends on how nicely you ask,” Hunter smirks and winks. He lingers in the doorway, looking at Harry who fakes a smile.

“Just… Gonna make something to eat first,” he says.

“Find me on the couch when you're finished,” Hunter says with a yawn and leaves.

Harry watches him go before bringing his legs closer to his chest. He rests his forehead on his knees and lets out a breath.

Harry loves long hugs and being embraced in his sleep, he loves back rubs and non-sexual ass squeezes, he loves when neck kisses are just simple gestures of showing love. He loves every possible form of physical intimacy, and Hunter's just… not used to it. Sometimes he forgets to kiss Harry before bed or when he leaves. The only way to get a hug is to initiate it first, but even then it doesn't last long enough. Hunter always flinches when Harry tries to nuzzle his neck, saying that it's tickling, and unconsciously removes Harry's hand from his hair when Harry tries to massage his scalp.

It's not like Harry didn't try to talk about it. He did. Kind of. If hints count. He just doesn't like to ask for it and he doesn't like to push. He wants touches to be natural but that's not a thing in their relationship.

Harry sighs heavily and stands up to grab a banana. Looking out the window, he eats it slowly. Usually, Hunter falls asleep quickly, and he hopes this time will be the same.

━━━

A few days later Niall asks Harry if he met with Helen, his therapist. The answer is no. Harry doesn't feel that bad. He even stopped crying after the first day when he let himself release his emotions.

In the evening Oli calls him and insists that Harry should have a session with Helen that Harry politely declines. And finally it's Zayn who sends him a text with the date and time of his appointment.

Harry doesn't cancel it to avoid questions but he reschedules it for the next day and then for the next and then for the next.

He's not really bothered that people saw him naked, he's not bothered that people have proof that he's a grown man who has sex. He doesn't even care that Louis' name has been brought back into his life. Or maybe he does. He's never discussed Louis with Helen because it was too personal. As is their video.

It was their moment that was supposed to belong only to the two of them. And it's terrifying that someone managed to violate their privacy so easily and that others keep doing that.

It's only when he's in bed with Hunter, having sex for the first time since Harry got back, he realises that something is off. He's on his hands and knees and he barely feels anything: no pleasure, no pain.

He doesn't want to stop because he doesn't want questions. So he whispers, “Harder.”

“Yeah,” Hunter grunts. His breathing is already heavy. “Just like you love it.”

Harry closes his eyes and tries to distance himself from the action. He doesn't feel bad. He just doesn't feel anything and he wants it to end as soon as possible.

“Give it to me,” he whispers again. “Harder,” he begs, knowing that it's the easiest way to make Hunter come faster.

“Fuck,” Hunter grunts. He really enjoys it, and Harry feels wrong. He lets Hunter use him and jumps on his feet to run to the bathroom as soon as Hunter finishes and lays down next to him.

“Did you come?” Hunter asks, and Harry closes his eyes tightly.

He's never thought he'd ever fake his orgasm but here he is.

“Yes,” he yells above the sound of running water.

That's when Harry realises that maybe he has a problem.

He meets with Helen. But sitting there, he realises that he doesn't really want to share anything. Helen sees it too.

━━━

“Hey, I know about the rules, but Louis asked me to call you.”

Harry feels the spike of adrenaline. The rules means Niall doesn't talk about Louis with him except if it's an emergency.

“What happened?” he asks anxiously. Mentally, he's already prepared to grab his keys and drive to the hospital.

“Harry, breath,” Niall laughs. “Everything's fine.”

Harry's heart is already beating fast. His head is spinning a bit, so he sits down on the couch.

“Then what is it?”

“Louis just wants to know how it's going. You know, if you're alright.”

Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, rubbing his face with a palm. It's been a week and two articles that didn't do much to help. His social media is exploding with notifications and messages, and paps are trying to follow him, greedy for some comments. All his friends are constantly asking him if he's alright, but Harry finds the support annoying. He tries to focus on positive things, just like how Louis taught him, and even if there's not much that is positive in the whole situation he tries to ignore the rest.

“Yeah, I'm alright,” he says anyway. It's not like Louis would be there for him if he said otherwise. And he wouldn't ask for his help. Even if sometimes he thinks that a call would fix everything. “Is he?”

“Fuck, Niall, I didn't ask you to call, I just asked if he's alright,” Harry hears Louis' voice.

“And I told you to call him and ask yourself,” Niall says to Louis.

“Oh, fuck you,” Louis groans.

“He asks if you're alright by the way,” Niall says, to Louis again.

“I am,” Louis huffs.

“Are you two high?” the realization hits Harry.

“Yes,” Niall says at the same time Louis says 'no'. “Yes, but don't tell your mum,” he corrects himself then.

“Why?” Harry giggles, resting his head against the back of the couch.

“Louis doesn't want her to hate him,” Niall says, and then the slapping sound comes, paired with a pained 'ouch'.

“She doesn't hate you,” Harry says right to Louis, assuming that he's on speaker. He hesitates before saying the next thing. “She's never hated you, you know that, right?”

“She wasn't pleased with me either.”

Louis' public image made her cautious for a long time, and she was a little bit skeptical after accidentally finding out that Harry started smoking weed (he'd just hid it well before), thinking that he was a bad influence.

“Maybe at first,” Harry emphasizes. “She changed her mind when she got to know you better.”

Which is also true. Louis charmed her, and even though she didn't let him get too close she tried to get along.

“Does she love HIM?” Louis hesitantly asks and Harry knows he's referring to Hunter.

Harry's smile fell.

“I mean… Yes, I guess?” he frowns.

“Are you not sure?”

“She's… It's a bit complicated.”

“He hates her,” Niall says, bursting into laughter a moment later.

“What the fuck, Niall?” Harry gasps.

“What's wrong with that motherfucker?” Louis asks, alarmed.

“God, he doesn't hate her,” Harry insists.

“I was joking,” Niall laughs. “You should've seen Louis' face.”

“Fuck off,” Louis grumbles.

“Is it really a good idea to discuss your ex's new boyfriend?” Niall asks.

“Fiancé,” Louis corrects.

“Right.”

“It's not,” Harry says. “That's why I should probably hang up.”

“Do you wanna come over?” Niall asks.

And Harry really wants to say yes. He misses the times when they were hanging out together. He laughed until his stomach and cheeks were hurting. And they usually ended the night with a good fuck until they were spent and fell asleep quickly. He misses a good sleep too.

“No, I already have plans,” he says with a sigh. He has to finally start packing his things because Hunter has finished packing his. He just needs some more time to sort out other things before they move to the USA together. “Thank you for calling though.”

“You're not dealing with it alone?” Louis asks.

“No,” Harry says, wincing. He's constantly texting with people, and someone always calls him every half an hour which is fucking exhausting. “And I'm seeing Helen,” he says even though it was only twice and they didn't make the next appointment.

“Good boy,” Niall says. “Call me if you need anything okay?”

“Yeah, okay, thank you.”

“Love you,” Niall says before ending the call.

Harry sits there for a few more minutes. Hunter and his mum don't hate each other; it's definitely not like that. Hunter is just… Hunter. He didn't know his own mother since she left right after he turned three months, and he isn't close with his dad who was married three times, so he genuinely can't understand why it's so important for Harry to text his mum every day or why he loves spending his time with Gemma.

In the beginning of their relationship Harry wanted to show him how cool they really are, so he invited the three of them on vacation. It was a big mistake. Instead of hanging out together he caught himself in the middle for the whole five days, spliting his time between his boyfriend and his family. They didn't interact apart from dinners, but even then Hunter had his phone in his hand.

The worst thing is, Harry knows that Hunter knows how to be likable and how to leave a good impression. But for some reason, he doesn't seem eager to put an effort when it comes to Harry's family or friends.

It wasn't like that with Louis at all. Louis has always tried his best.

Harry covers his face with a cushion and screams into it until there's no air left in his lungs. That's not how he imagined his life.

Eventually, Harry gets a box to pack some of his things. Hunter's friends – most of whom are other rich kids just as he is – moved to LA earlier this year and have been persuading him to follow them. After a couple of months of convincing he finally agreed and asked Harry to go with him.

At first it seemed like a good idea. It felt like a new beginning. Harry had some offers from American producers in the past and, with his recent success, it shouldn't be hard to get a few more.

Yet, now for some reason, he's not very enthusiastic about the process.

Half an hour later he finds himself on the floor with some book in his hands that he's never read. His phone is ringing somewhere but he misses the first call and finds his phone only when it starts ringing again.

It's Gemma on Facetime, and she's asking if he has a spare hour to spill the tea. Harry prefers anything to packing his things, so he easily agrees. Besides, lately Gemma is the easiest person to be around. She has a lot going on and mostly focused on her own problems which Harry finds pleasantly distracting.

They're trying to come up with an idea for a birthday present for their mum. There's still another month and a half, but suddenly her hobbies have shifted slightly, and Gemma notices that she's changed a lot since she got a new job.

“She even said that she misses Louis,” Harry muses.

A surprise flashes across Gemma's face.

“Actually, I miss him too,” she says.

Louis wasn't the main point. They've been talking about their mother's atypical behavior. But for some reason Harry isn't trying to change the subject.

Making Louis' name a taboo, Harry was hoping it'll help him to forget him. In fact, it seems like he's just been bottling up his feelings. For the last two weeks, Louis' name has started to come up in conversations more and more often, and Harry has found himself enjoying it.

It doesn't hurt any more. Not the way it used to in the beginning at least. Instead he feels excitement and the same slight thrill that occurred before they started dating.

“I mean… no offence but Hunter is weird.”

“It doesn't stop being offensive if you're saying 'no offence',” Harry lifts his eyebrows.

“You know that he's weird,” Gemma insists.

Harry huffs, looking away.

“I'm weird too then.”

“You are,” Gemma says. “Not in a bad way though.”

“Thanks,” he snaps.

“H, I really didn't want to offend either of you,” Gemma says genuinely, and Harry gives her an opportunity to explain. “But it's been almost a year, and we still haven't had a chance to get to know him better. Everything we know about him we know from you. And we're just… worried.”

Harry knows she's probably right.

“Mum was worried about Louis as well,” he notes.

“Yes, but for a different reason.”

“Because he's a bad guy,” Harry snorts. He's heard that a lot.

“Is it offensive too?”

“No,” Harry says. He knows that's true. Louis is reckless and a little bit crazy. He can be too rude simetimes, so he definitely gives off an impression of a bad guy.

“But if you ask me…” Gemma starts cautiously as if she's ready to be interrupted at any moment. “I think his bad influence affected you well.”

“What?” Harry snorts.

“You've always been a good boy,” Gemma says. “Too sensible and soft. And Louis… It's like he showed you that nothing terrible will happen if you're acting a little bit more careless and bold.”

“Are you saying that he was a better choice?”

“I'm not,” Gemma says. “Hunter's good for you in a different way. He doesn't make you worry and he's more rational and calm. Which is good?” she asks rather than says.

Harry doesn't think that not worrying about your partner is a good sign, but he doesn't say it outloud.

“But?” he asks after a short pause.

“He doesn't like to share you with other people,” she says. “And I don't like that about him.”

“Louis didn't like to share me with others either,” he says, tilting his head.

“No, no, no,” Gemma says, lifting her hand to stop him. “Louis loved to have you just to himself, yes. But he also loved to show everyone that you're his. He didn't isolate you from others.”

“I'm not isolated,” Harry protests. He doesn't want to argue, he has a feeling that Gemma's words make sense, but it feels right to defend his partner.

“I'm just saying that with Louis it was the two of you against the world, and with Hunter it's more like it's only the two of you in the whole world.”

Harry doesn't say anything, but he makes a note to think about it later.

“But you know, it's not me who's moving with him to another country. And if he's the one you really want to be with, so be it,” she shrugs before changing the topic.

Everything that Gemma said keeps Harry awake that night, questioning why his suitcases are still empty.

━━━

Niall: I WHISH I COULD MARRY THIS MAN HES FICKING HILARIOUS

Harry reads Niall's message and opens a link to twitter post. It says that it's Louis' reaction to the leaked video, filmed by some fans who met him at the bar recently.

“That's definitely not us, no,” Louis says confidently. “But if someone knows those guys let them know that I'm up for the threesome. Those motherfuckers know how to fuck.”

The girls in the video eagerly agree with him, putting the smuggest smile on Louis' face.

Harry rolls his eyes, but he can't ignore that he's endeared with him. It's a good thing that Harry doesn't go out lately. He knows how to lie to the mediut if he meets fans and they ask him the same questions, he'll probably end up stuttering and blushing, throwing all their efforts down the drain.

He's still smiling when he locks the screen and puts lotion on his legs.

It's been two weeks but there were no loud scandals that could outshine theirs. Apart from that it's going… pretty normal. Harry tries to ignore public appearances and has to stay away from social media, but otherwise it's fine.

He's in his bed with a cup of camomile tea on his bedside table when he gets a call from Hunter.

“Hi,” Harry says.

“Can I come over?” Hunter asks. His voice is a little colder than usual.

Harry looks at the book that he's been planning to read before bed.

“Do you miss me already?” he asks playfully, intending to turn down the offer gently. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I'd really love to see you right now.”

Harry's insides twist up.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, licking his lips. He just knows there is something wrong.

“Harry,” Hunter says pleadingly. “I'll come in an hour.”

“Okay,” Harry says.

Harry spends the hour surfing the internet, hoping to find any reason for Hunter to be that alarmed. He doesn't see anything new though. Just the same video and screenshots that he keeps seeing everywhere. With him and Louis laying on their sides in Louis' bedroom. Louis slowly fucking him from behind, with his palm on Harry's tattooed stomach.

There are also a few half-naked mirror selfies of Louis that got leaked to the media at the same time as the video. Harry studies the pictures for a few moments before his cheeks get red and then he closes the app.

Hunter's face is deeply furrowed when Harry meets him on the porch. He kisses Harry on his cheek instead of his mouth and heads to the living room.

“Babe, you're scaring me,” Harry says, following him. He sits down on the couch and pats the seat next to him, inviting Hunter to sit down too, but he just keeps standing in the middle of the room. “What's wrong?”

“I met Louis today,” Hunter says. “At the bar where I was with boys.”

Harry's eyes open in surprise.

“Um… okay?” he asks cautiously.

“We didn't talk much,” Hunter says. “But he said something that made me…” he gets silent for a few seconds. “I watched your video.”

Harry frowns.

“What did he tell you?”

“You're not even bothered that I watched your sex tape?” Hunter challenges him, looking right into his eyes.

“I mean…” Harry licks his lips, trying to find the right approach. “There are already millions of views. All the people I know have probably seen it,” he says. The thought still makes him nauseous, so he doesn't like to think about it. “And it's not like you haven't seen me naked,” he adds.

“Does that mean you'd show me other videos if I asked you?”

That throws Harry into confusion.

“What?”

“I just need to check something.”

“What is it?”

“I can't tell you. But we can watch it together if you're worried that I might do something with them.”

Harry's probably a little reckless because he wasn't bothered about it.

“Isn't it weird to watch your boyfriend being fucked by another men?” he asks, studying Hunter's face.

“I've told you. I'm not going to watch it. I just need to check something.”

“I'm not sure it's a good idea. There's another person in this video who–”

“For fuck's sake, Harry,” Hunter groans. “He's a smug bastard. He loves it when people watch him. I've caught you two in the act twice. I've seen him naked thousands of times when we were hanging out together. We both know that he wouldn't care if you'd shown me those videos. Probably he would love it.”

Hunter isn't wrong. It's not like Harry has something to hide, right? So he goes for his second phone that he hasn't used since the last time they filmed. Harry comes back, sits right beside Hunter, and they awkwardly wait in a dead silence while it's turning on.

In the first close up video, Louis fucks him flat on his belly. With a deep thrust, pulling his red arsecheek with an imprint of his palm aside. The only indications that it's them are Louis' tattoos and Harry's whimpering when Louis tells him how good he feels.

Something curls in Harry's belly, and he bites his lip, taking a quick peek at Hunter whose expression is emotionless. He doesn't watch the whole video before swiping to the next one.

In this one, Harry's laying with his back on Louis' chest in front of the mirror. Louis' buried deep inside him, two of his fingers stretch him alongside his cock, while he films their reflection with his other hand.

“Is it good already?” Louis murmurs.

Harry remembers 'it's always good with you' flashing through his mind.

“Mfhm,” is all he managed to mumble in response, because it was so fucking perfect.

“I'm adding another one,” Louis whispers before squeezing the third finger alongside the first two and his cock.

Hunter fasts forward, and Harry winces at his own panting as Louis puts the dildo against his hole and presses inside. Hunter swipes the video again.

Hunter swipes ten more videos, watching each of them for barely ten seconds, and Harry just knows there are so many more of them. Hunter doesn't check the rest, but that's enough for Harry to feel the heat in his belly. He's too nervous to get fully hard, but he has to admit that those videos and memories have made him a little worked up.

Slowly putting the phone aside, Hunter looks at him.

“Did you even enjoy having sex with me?” Hunter asks.

“What are you talking about?” Harry frowns. “Of course I did. I do.”

It's not a lie. It always brought him some degree of satisfaction.

“You've never made the noises you did with him,” Hunter adds reproachfully.

Harry feels sick.

“I– I did!” he protests, but something tells him that Hunter's right.

“Yeah, once or twice.”

Harry feels the guilt flooding his insides. He knows exactly which times Hunter's talking about. And it wasn't Hunter who was on Harry's mind.

“We were smoking outside the bar with boys when he and his friends came up to us,” Hunter starts, leaning back. “They stopped for a small talk and Leo said that he's surprised that Louis can be gentle or something like that, because, you know. It's not like him at all.”

Harry bites the inside of his cheek. He saw the discussions on the internet. People who were sure it wasn't them said the same thing. That Louis' vibe didn't match what they saw in the video. Louis is rough and sharp. He's not sweet, at least it's not how others know him.

“Louis said that it's something you do with a person you love. So I watched the video. You know. To see what he's talking about.”

Harry swallows, not saying anything.

“You've told me that you don't have any kinks, and that you're not a fan of sex-toys,” Hunter starts. “You asked me not to talk dirty to you because it's cringe, but from what I've seen…”

Harry has nothing to say in defense, caught red-handed.

“You've said you don't like it messy but you two go bare literally in every fucking video,” Hunter keeps going. His face gets red out of anger, and Harry wants to curl up in a corner. “It's not that hard to see that you've been lying all that time, right?”

“I–” Harry opens his mouth to say something in defense, to calm Hunter down, but there's not much he can say in his position. He puts his hand on Hunter's thigh cautiously, but Hunter brushes it away and stands up.

“Hunter, please,” Harry says, grabbing him by his wrist.

Hunter sighs heavily, turning to Harry and looking down at him. He isn't leaving, just putting distance between them. But somehow Harry knows that he'd prefer to be anywhere else but here.

“When you were with me that first night… you clearly haven't gotten over him,” he says. “It wasn't a problem for me then, but sometimes I have a feeling that mentally you're still with him.”

Harry swallows hard, his tongue is heavy in his mouth.

“Say something?” Hunter pleads. He keeps looking at him even when nothing comes. “I'm buying a ticket to LA in a few days,” he says. “Let me know by Friday if I need to buy one for you as well.”

At that, Hunter heads out of the house.

The weirdest thing is that Harry doesn't feel sad and doesn't want to cry. He feels empty, detached and a little bit relieved. He heads to the kitchen to find cigarettes that were Louis' and that he knows should be in the top cabinet.

Harry grabs a new pack and a lighter, goes out the backdoor and sits down in the chair on the porch. It's chilly and rainy, but the first drag warms him from inside.

It shouldn't've gone that far, he knows that. The engagement should never have happened at all. It wasn't a real engagement. Harry doesn't even have a ring.

They've been messing around for a few months and became official a little more than half a year ago. On their fourth month Hunter shared his plans about moving to LA. He asked Harry if he wanted to go there and move in together, and Harry said yes.

They didn't share a house here, in London. Hunter was convinced that they shouldn't move in together before they decide to marry, and that's something Harry was aware of but didn't take into account. They haven't discussed the wedding itself but since then Hunter started calling Harry his fiancé. Playfully at first and then more and more seriously, spiced with his random expectations from marriage. A few weeks later Harry still hadn't got the ring but when people started noticing changes in petnames Hunter confirmed his intentions.

As soon as the initial shock had subsided, Harry realized what a mess he was in. He didn't see Hunter as his husband, but half a bottle of whiskey on a lonely day convinced him otherwise.

'It wouldn't be that bad, marrying Hunter', he thought. Harry could focus on the wedding preparations and then on buying a new house. Maybe they could get a couple of dogs and a cat. Hunter didn't like dogs and cats, but he loved kids, so then he could focus on adopting. And maybe somewhere in-between his family and work he wouldn't have time to think about Louis or how miserable he was.

It was a brilliant idea for his smashed brain.

━━━

He and Louis get another wave of attention when Hunter starts posting stories of himself clubbing in LA without Harry. The hype hits its peak when Perez Hilton posts a video, putting together every single fact he knows about Harry and Louis. He dishes the dirt, retells the whole timeline of Harry and Louis' relationships, collecting facts and gossip from the past that even Harry doesn't remember. He also arranges an investigation with evidence that the sex tape is real.

Perez is unscrupulous and he knows the industry. He knows people so most of the things are true. Not everything though. And the problem is, that other bloggers and media catch on to it as if it's the ultimate truth.

Harry feels more delusional than ever. Having been in the spotlight for so many years, he is used to the pressure, but sometimes it's still too much.

He doesn't know what to do with himself, and each time he sees Louis' name or face here or there, he feels like his heart gets pulled like a magnet to his phone to make a call. He wants to take the car and head straight to Louis. He just needs to hear his voice convincing him that everything's going to be alright. And the fact that he can't do any of it is killing him more than anything else.

One day Harry's laying in his bath. With bubbles, aroma oils and candles when he gets another link from Zayn with a text that they need to come up with a statement.

It's another Perez article. He reports that according to Hunter, he and Harry are over. Harry reads it briefly, finding out things about himself that aren't true. 'He wasn't a very faithful lover', 'he didn't accept the ring because he wanted the more expensive one', 'after the leaked video he couldn't trust his boyfriend anymore, it felt like betrayal'.

Harry lays there for another five minutes before he finally gives up and does what feels right. His hands are shaking when he searches for Louis' number in his contact list. He doesn't know what he's most afraid of – that Louis could tell him to fuck off or that Louis wouldn't answer at all.

He does answer though. Right after the fourth ring.

“Is everything alright?” Louis asks right away.

“You told me you're one call away,” Harry says quietly.

“I am,” Louis says, making Harry feel less pathetic than he does.

“I miss Clifford,” he says, cringing at his weak attempt to get to Louis. “Is there any chance we could hang out?”

“Just you and him or three of us?” Louis asks. His tone is noticeably relieved.

“Preferably the three of us,” Harry says shyly.

“I'm finishing here in thirty minutes or so. I can pick you up after.”

“Sounds good,” Harry muses, playing with his lower lip. “How much time do I have?”

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

“About an hour then? I'll text you.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”

“Have you read it already?” Louis asks quietly.

Harry swallows hard.

“Yeah,” he says.

“I'll try to make it in fourty.”

Harry waits until Louis hangs up and sees a new message from Hunter. They haven't talked since the last time he was at Harry's house, and Harry doesn't know what to expect.

Hunter:
I didn't say anything like that. This article is bullshit.

Harry forwards the message to Zayn, letting him sort it out, and puts his phone away. He takes a deep breath and sinks underwater, laying there until he's out of oxygen.

He's going to be alright. He's going to be himself again. He just needs a little bit of time and a little bit of Louis.

Harry plops down in the passenger seat and lets out a heavy breath. He feels Louis staring at him expectantly as he buckles his belt.

“I want to get drunk,” Harry says.

“I thought you wanted to see Clif,” Louis huffs. He doesn't start the car, looking at Harry with a mix of interest and mockery.

“I do want to see him,” Harry says slowly, so it sounds more genuine. “But I hoped you would be up for a drink too.”

Because Louis is always up for a drink.

Then, Louis starts the car.

“What are we drinking?”

Harry wants to get so drunk that he'll pass out somewhere on the floor. And he wants a hangover to be his only problem tomorrow.

“Vodka?” he offers. He even has a bottle in his bag.

Louis is quiet for a few moments.

“It makes you sad,” he says. “And if you're already sad, you're gonna cry.”

“I don't want to cry,” Harry says, confidently. “I want to forget.”

“I think you want to get it out of your system. And I have Malbec for such a case.”

Harry purses his lips, taking a moment to think about it. He loves Malbec. Much more than vodka. He loves every type of alcohol more than vodka.

“Okay,” Harry says. “But if wine won't work, I'll have vodka.”

Louis gives him a sceptical look.

“Okay,” he says easily. As if he knows for sure that wine will work.

And maybe he's right. Maybe Harry just needs someone to talk to. It's always helped him, and he's barely spoken to anyone in weeks.

“What were you up to earlier?” he asks to fill the silence that's getting oppressive.

“Had dinner with Sam,” Louis says after a short moment of hesitation.

Sam as in Samuel. As Niall's friend. Right. The one that was rumoured to have a story with Louis before Harry came into picture. He took a step back as soon as he and Louis started dating, but Harry knows they've slept together. Rumours don't appear out of nowhere after all.

Harry swallows hard, feeling the nausea crawling up his throat.

“Like a date?” he asks, trying to play it cool.

While they were together, Harry didn't know jealousy. He was always so secure in their relationship, so confident in Louis that it didn't occur to him to be jealous. How could he be when Louis looked at him like he was his everything.

It was Louis who was jealous all the time. Someone said to Harry, probably Zayn, that Louis was afraid Harry was going to find someone better, and Harry genuinely couldn't understand how he could think like that. Louis was his the one.

The question clearly makes Louis uncomfortable, and Harry wishes he didn't ask anything at all, because now it's all weird.

“Oli asked me for a favour,” he says. “To pull some attention away from you. And, well, so one of us would have plus one on Niall's birthday. In case you decide to come alone?”

Harry had completely forgotten about Niall's birthday party in two weeks. He also was looking for an excuse to miss it.

“Did Oli ask you to come to the meeting too? The one after everything happened?”

“He did,” Louis says, making disappointment bloom in Harry's stomach.

“Oh, well.”

“But I didn't go because he asked.”

“Really?” Harry asks quietly.

Louis looks at Harry piercingly, right into his soul.

“You're not a stranger to me, Harry,” then he turns back to the road and keeps talking. “I didn't start believing that you deserve any of it.”

Harry stops breathing for a long moment.

“Still,” he manages to sigh. “He shouldn't have involved you now.”

“I'm already involved.”

“Doesn't make it right.”

“For fuck sake, Harry. Nothing's right about the whole situation,” Louis sounds irritated, and Harry slouches a little to make himself smaller. “Sorry,” Louis adds quieter.

After that, they drive in silence until Louis clears his throat a few minutes later.

“You didn't make any statements,” Louis notes.

“No,” Harry says.

“Is it a temporary thing? Your break up?”

“No,” Harry says again.

“That didn't end well last time. For you at least,” Louis says pointingly.

Harry knows what he's talking about.

That's what it looked like with Hunter. When photos of them together got to the media, no one knew he and Louis had been separated for months. They didn't make a statement. And so it showed Harry in a bad light. He wants to ask why Louis cares, but he doesn't want to argue.

“I know,” Harry says.

“What are you waiting for? When he starts messing around and you'll be the one who is apparently cheated on?”

“That would be fair, wouldn't it?” Harry asks quietly.

Louis looks at him sceptically.

“You're not serious.”

Harry shrugs. Louis doesn't agree with him, judging by his frown, but he isn't trying to convince him of anything.

Harry's phone starts ringing, making both of them flinch.

“It's Zayn,” Harry whispers before pressing the green button.

Of course, it's about Hunter. Zayn retells Harry their talk and says that Hunter will make a post with a denial. Zayn even offered him legal services to sue Perez for libel, but Hunter refused his help, saying that he doesn't give a fuck. But he agreed to play along and mention that the sex tape wasn't the reason for their break up because it wasn't real.

“Maybe we shouldn't have lied about the video,” Harry muses.

He feels Louis' concerned look and pretends that he doesn't.

“Why?” Zayn asks.

“I mean… We could easily make a profit. We got attention. Got a couple more offers. With nude scenes. We shouldn't have helped create conspiracies.”

“Why are you doubting us?” Zayn asks, sounding offended. “Everything is going fine. In a few weeks everyone will move on.”

“I'm not doubting you,” Harry mumbles. “But you've said the same thing three weeks ago.”

If they didn't start suggesting theories, there would be nothing to gossip about. Everyone would watch the video and be done with discussing it by this time.

“The scenario has changed,” Zayn says. “No one thought you were gonna break up with Hunt.”

Harry's almost sure that Zayn said 'Cunt' but he lets it slide this time. He sighs heavily.

“I just hate lying.”

“Is it about Louis?” Zayn asks. “Are you worried that you owe him now?”

“Maybe?” he says, hoping that Louis didn't hear Zayn's question, but he turns down the volume anyway.

“I swear, he's happy to help. It was his idea to meet with Sam to ease the attention that you two get now.”

“Oh, really?” Harry says, glancing at Louis.

“I'm serious,” Zayn says. “Fuck, Sarah's calling me. I should take that one. I'll text you later.”

Zayn hangs up before Harry can say anything.

“Alright?” Louis asks.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, inspecting Louis' face. He considers calling him out about Sam, but doesn't do it. “We'll make a statement. About me and… yeah.”

Louis clenches his jaw.

“That's good,” he says.

Clifford meets them right at the door, happily jumping on Harry and almost knocking him down.

“Hi, buddy,” Harry laughs, hugging him and wincing when he tries to lick his face.

“I've never seen you fall on your knees so fast,” Louis snorts.

Harry squints his eyes, looking up at him. There definitely were times when he was on his knees within a split second.

“Liar.”

Louis smirks, and Harry turns his attention to the dog. Clifford keeps excitedly jumping on him, wagging his tail, and Harry lays down right on the floor, letting Clifford lay on top of him.

“God, Harry. It's not the cleanest place, you know?” Louis says, but Harry doesn't really care. He hugs Clifford, kissing his fur, and hears Louis click his tongue. “I'm gonna find wine for us,” he says, heading inside his house.

For a few minutes Harry just lays there, caressing Clifford's fur.

“Missed you,” he whispers, petting his neck.

Finally, Clifford's energy settles down, and Harry looks around, then takes a deep breath. The smell of Louis' house tingles his insides with nostalgia. He's spent so much time here, and nothing really changed, judging from the first glance.

He stands up to find Louis; Clifford's tailing him as he passes the living room and enters the kitchen. Harry takes a seat at the only high stool at the kitchen island and watches Louis opening the bottle with a corkscrew and filling their glasses.

“So,” Louis says, coming closer to hand Harry his glass. “What are we trying to forget?”

Harry shrugs, looking down at Clifford who keeps clinging to his leg.

“Whatever shit I'm going to say or do today probably.”

Louis doesn't laugh at his poor attempt to joke. He inspects his face for a few long moments and swirls wine in his glass with a smooth circling of his wrist. Harry does so too before taking a sniff and a first big sip.

“How are you dealing with the attention?” Louis asks as soon as Harry puts his glass down.

Louis stays at the kitchen island, leaning on the counter with his elbows. His fingers are crossed, and Harry notices a few new tattoos on his knuckles.

Harry slowly licks his lips.

“I'm shit at it, you know that.”

“You held up well at the office,” Louis says, and Harry snorts.

“Only because you were there,” Harry says bashfully. “I felt like I had support.”

“You do have support, you know,” Louis says. “You would have it even if I wasn't there.”

He means Oli and Zayn. And Niall. And others.

Louis' gaze is persistent, and he looks right into Harry's eyes.

“That's not the same,” he says, shaking his head and turning away. He takes a few more sips of wine, almost finishing the glass.

“Is it worse than last time?” Louis asks cautiously. As if he's afraid that Harry's going to break.

But Harry's stronger now. He has learned how to be collected and chill even when there's a storm inside him. Yet, he still takes a moment to think about Louis' question.

It was four years ago. He had just landed his first leading role in a romcom and had further auditions for more roles where his chances of being chosen were pretty high when he was outed as gay. He was inexperienced and careless, and he should have known that kissing in the hotel elevator was a horrible idea.

When Harry first started filming, his image was unproblematic and he loved it. He had a good reputation and a loving fanbase.

The first real scandal made his life turn upside down. It was not only hurtful to him as someone who had just started getting comfortable with his sexuality, but it was also harmful for him as for an actor. He wasn't ready. The timing was wrong. Directors weren't interested in him anymore. He wasn't relevant. Or at least that's something his agent had told him.

Harry was sure it was the end. He didn't know what to do. But then he met Louis and since then his life has changed.

“No,” he says. “Not worse.”

He has more support now, he's aware and he appreciates it. He has a whole team. He made more real friends. He became more self-confident.

“Thank you for being there for me. Last time and especially this time. I couldn't do it without you.”

“You're giving me too much credit,” Louis says.

“I'm really not.”

“I–” Louis starts and closes his mouth to think about what he wants to say. “That's not how it works,” he says. “You could do it alone. But you deserve to not be alone in it. Not like you deserve any of it at all, but you're– You're not alone. Do you get it?”

Harry's a little bit startled, but he finds it in himself to nod.

“I forgot food in the car,” Louis says, avoiding Harry's eyes and pushing off the counter to head to the exit. “Think about your lack of self-confidence while I'm out.”

Harry doesn't say anything, even if he has something to argue with. It's not that he's self-conscious. He has his weaknesses and he knows them.

The thing is, with Louis, he could just be himself. He could show his vulnerability, and he always knew that Louis would support him when he needed that most.

Harry empties the rest of his glass in one go. He wants to have more right away to dull the anxiety but doesn't dare. He looks around, tapping against the table surface and looking for something to distract himself, and then stands up. Clifford, who's been laying on the floor, jumps up.

In the living room, there is a big white rug right in front of the couch that is as soft and fluffy as it looks, so Harry sits down on the floor. He smiles when Clifford comes closer, laying in his legs as soon as he's sure that Harry isn't going anywhere.

Harry closes his eyes and keeps caressing Clifford's fur, finding peace in monotonous action.

They met through Ed Sheeran, he and Louis, a little over four years ago. The last Harry wanted to do that night was to go to Ed's party where there were lots of people he didn't know. It was Sarah who made him go, only to leave him for Mitch an hour later. Or maybe Harry pushed her to do that, so as not to bother her with the gloominess that clouded him. Harry didn't feel like meeting new people and was wondering if it was appropriate to go home already when Louis Tomlinson bumped into him.

They hadn't met before, but everyone knew Louis and everyone had already started recognising Harry. They made small talk that was surprisingly sweet and easy, and then Louis asked him to have a drink together. Harry couldn't say no, not when his knees were wobbling at just the sight of Louis that close.

They quickly got lost in each other's company and half an hour later found a private place out the back of Ed's mansion. Louis wasn't nearly as bad as the media tried to portray him. Not bad at all, actually. He was really attentive, sweet and supportive. It's not that Harry had no one to talk to, but it seemed that people didn't get him. And Louis was there, ready to listen and ready to help.

Of course, Louis had already heard about his outing. As a bisexual, he had his own story of being outed when he was a teenager. It wasn't as scandalous or as big, but that instantly brought them closer.

It was so easy to talk to Louis, and a bottle of whiskey that they were sharing made Harry loosen his tongue. He had nothing to lose, so he told Louis everything. About his manager abandoning him, about all the roles that he'd lost, about his career going to the cesspool and his fear of never starring again.

Louis listened attentively and then easily convinced Harry that his outing wasn't the end of the world, more like the opportunity to change direction and asked what Harry would like to do. Harry confessed that he'd always wanted to see himself in some historical thriller, but it seemed unlikely.

“Give me your number,” Louis hummed. “I think my good friend would be interested in you.”

Harry smiled weakly. He wasn't sure anyone would be interested in him anymore, but he gave Louis his number anyway.

He wasn't prepared to find himself a day later in the waiting room of one of the most prestigious agencies. Everyone knew who Oli Wright was, but Harry couldn't even dream about working with him. And he still thought he was imagining it, even days later when he had a signed contract in his hands.

Louis quickly became his biggest supporter. He taught him a lot of things about the industry. He taught him how to ignore people and the media. How to deal with attention and how to say 'fuck off' to paparazzi. He tried to teach Harry how to know his value, which wasn't very successful, apparently.

Louis became his best friend and the person Harry dreamed of having since he was thirteen. Except Louis didn't intend to let him get closer for a long time.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Louis asks, coming back.

“We're chilling,” Harry says, not opening his eyes. He thinks he's drifted off for a few moments because he didn't hear Louis' steps.

When Harry feels Louis get closer, he opens his eyes, watching as Louis puts food containers on the floor right beside him.

“Eat something,” he simply says.

It's so natural for Louis to take care of others, and it never felt more precious to Harry than now. He blinks a few times and looks down. There are some grilled shrimps and appetizers, apparently from the restaurant where Louis had dinner. Even though Harry's not hungry, one look at the food makes his stomach grumble.

Louis leaves again and comes back with their glasses, putting one in front of Harry.

“Is it too early to ask what the motherfucker did?” he asks, sitting down on the floor aloof, resting his back against the armchair. They are still pretty close. Harry could easily reach him if he'd tried.

Harry shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says.

“Has it something to do with our video then?”

“No,” Harry says. “But it was a catalyst.”

“Did he shame you about it?”

Harry shakes his head.

“No. He was chill about it all.”

Or maybe he didn't give a fuck. Harry doesn't know. He's always struggled to get the degree of Hunter's emotional development.

“Fuck,” Louis grunts, throwing his head back. “I still don't know what you saw in him.”

“He was a pleasant distraction,” Harry simply says.

“Of all people, you choose to be with the person that I hated most,” Louis says like he still can't believe it. “It could have been literally anyone and you choose him.”

“Hated most?” Harry asks, tilting his head to the side. “Didn't know it was that deep.”

“Whatever.”

“I'll tell you why it was him if you tell me why you hate him so much.”

He bluffs. There's not much to tell. It's just that Harry wasn't himself, and Hunter happened to be around.

“You already know the reason.”

Hunter had all the personal qualities that Louis despised. He is spoiled and narcissistic, a bit egoistic and barely listens to others. Harry knows he's not the best person to build your life with, but he's always been good to him.

“He fancied me,” Harry says. Because he knows it. He knew it back then too. “And you didn't like it.”

“Everyone fancies you to some degree, but I've never had a problem with it,” Louis says. Harry lifts his eyebrows as if asking 'really?' which makes Louis roll his eyes. “Well, I had a problem with it, but it was different.”

“Why?” Harry asks.

“Because he was obsessed with you. That's the difference. And that's why I didn't handle it well.”

Harry feels his face heating up.

“He is used to getting what he wants. And he wanted you.”

Harry watches Louis becoming more irritated, and he finds it necessary to do something about it. To comfort him.

“There was nothing to worry about when I was telling you that.”

“Not really convincing, considering where we are now,” Louis says, averting his eyes.

“He's not the reason why we are here.”

“I know,” Louis says quieter. “It's me.”

“You literally started ignoring me. What did you expect it to turn out like?” Harry manages to ask before his voice starts trembling.

“I didn't–”

“You did,” Harry insists. “And the worst part is that I still don't know what I did wrong!”

Louis shuts up. Then takes a deep breath in.

“You did nothing wrong,” Louis says in his calmest tone.

Staring into Harry's eyes, he looks like he's telling the truth. And for a second Harry thinks he could ask him to explain.

“I don't want to ruin the evening,” he says instead, wiping off the tip of his nose. He's starting to feel emotional, and he doesn't like it. He wanted to find a distraction and peace, and now his hands are shaking. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Actually, I think we should talk about it. About what went wrong.”

Harry takes a moment to think. And while he's silent, Louis refreshes his glass.

“You left,” Harry says. It still makes him want to cry. “Right during my mum's wedding.”

There was a series of events, but it was the last straw. Harry and Gemma put together a great celebration and invited her friends from all over the world. He barely saw Louis for weeks — Louis was busy with work, Harry with preparations and other stuff. And even though it seemed like a stupid excuse, the world of the two of them was falling apart.

They stopped making plans together. They stopped talking. When Harry tried to surprise Louis by showing up at his session with lunch or making dinner for the two of them, he was met with no enthusiasm. When he tried to adjust his time to suit Louis, Louis already was occupied with other people who weren't Harry. They stopped sleeping together because by the time Louis returned home, Harry had just a few more hours before getting up and leaving.

Harry didn't know how to fix it because it seemed like he was the only one who kept trying and noticing things. It's not that he didn't try to talk, he did, but Louis always had the same answer. 'I'm busy, I'm working, you're overthinking'. It was getting worse week by week and, for Harry, it ended on the day of his mother's wedding.

“I just– I saw how much of yourself you put into it and I didn't want to ruin it for you. You weren't pleased with me, and every time you looked at me, I just felt that you wanted me anywhere but next to you.”

“Of course I wasn't pleased!” Harry says. “You were two hours late and when you came– Fuck. You came just to say that you're leaving in twenty minutes to head to fucking France. What was I supposed to think?”

There were excuses about some important meeting with some important people that Harry didn't know.

“I didn't think you wanted to have me there. That's all,” Louis says with a sigh. He leans his elbows on his bent knees and hides his face.

“I hoped to see you there,” Harry pleads. “So I knew you still cared.”

“I never stopped caring,” Louis says.

“It didn't look like that. You distanced yourself from me.”

“I was working.”

Harry played this conversation thousands of times in his head, and his heart is beating fast now.

“You offered to talk about it. Can you be honest at least now? You shut me down. You stopped inviting me to the studio and to your sessions. You stopped playing at home and you didn't let me hear your new songs.”

“Because they were shit.”

“No.”

“Fuck, Harry, yes,” Louis says, looking at him. “They were shit. I stopped liking what I was doing.”

That makes Harry lose his words. He's never thought about it. He couldn't even have assumed anything like that. Louis was glowing when he was doing music.

Harry had an assumption that Louis found someone else but he didn't want to believe it.

“I've heard your new single,” Harry says hesitantly. “It's brilliant.”

It was against his will. It's just that Louis' new song was a fucking hit a couple months ago and it was everywhere. Critics said it was something phenomenally new, it was fresh and unhackneyed. Harry was really proud of him and he wished he was able to say it to Louis.

“Yeah. But I wrote it after we broke up.”

Louis throws his head back, and Harry watches his adam's apple moving. He doesn't look at Harry and even closes his eyes as if he's ashamed.

“Was it me? The problem?”

Louis is silent. Long enough to make Harry feel nauseous.

“No,” he says then, but the answer doesn't feel complete. The tone gives Louis away, and he knows that Harry knows.

The walls start closing in, and Harry wants to go out to get the fresh air.

“I want a cigarette,” Harry says. “Do you have one?”

“I don't, actually,” Louis says, finally looking at him. Yet, Harry can't look back. “I quit.”

Harry frowns.

“Why?”

“You wanted me to smoke less, didn't you?”

“I did. But I've never asked you to quit. Just to do it less often.”

“I know. Wanted to do something radical.”

Harry doesn't say anything. Louis quitting smoking after their break up has nothing to do with Harry.

“Do you want more?” Louis asks, reaching for the bottle. “Or are we slowing down?”

“We're not slowing down.”

“Eat something first.”

Harry obeys, picking up a bruschetta and taking a small bite. It's delicious but Harry's not hungry at all. He eats half of it before putting it back.

“I've been friendzoning you for almost a whole year if you remember it,” Louis says.

Harry doesn't like to call it friendzone. Louis was honest with him from the start. Right from the moment Harry tried to kiss him two weeks after they met for the first time.

Louis wasn't interested in dating, but he loved Harry's company. So they decided it was better if they stayed friends. They became those idiots who annoyed everyone around them with unreleased tension, but Harry enjoyed that. It hurt, yes. Louis was Harry's first true love, but Harry was so crazy over Louis, he was ready to have him any way he could.

“You didn't want to date in general. Not me specifically.”

“I wanted to date you. I just wasn't sure that I could give you what you deserved. I didn't know how to build relationships, how to work on them. All my previous relationships lasted two months at most. Having partners was distracting. They asked for time, for energy, that I didn't have, because all I wanted was to dedicate all of myself to work and just have fun.”

Harry knew it. He's always respected it. He was passionate about what he was doing too. They were together, but at the same time each of them was minding their own business. That's why they were working well. At least Harry thought they were.

“Was I asking for too much?” Harry asks, feeling the scratching in his throat. He can barely swallow the food, and he's too nauseous to take a sip.

“You didn't.”

“Was I distracting?”

“I was distracted by you, I think.”

“Don't see the difference.”

Louis sighs.

“Harry, I– You didn't ask for too much, but I wanted to give you everything. I wanted to make you happy, and I wanted to spend all my time with you.”

Harry clears his throat.

“Doesn't sound like a bad thing to me,” he says. “Especially when the other person feels the same.”

“I just… I didn't expect to find my person so early. Or at all. I've always thought that I'll sort my life first. Learn some things. Make mistakes before settling down. And I… I didn't know I could love someone that hard. It was different from everything I've experienced.”

Harry feels like crying.

“I didn't feel like I did enough for you. Everything was blowing my mind. I think I had some sort of a crisis. And I needed some distance. To see if my creative crisis had something to do with my personal crisis.”

“Did you find out?” Harry manages to ask.

“I did.”

“Do I want to know the answer?”

“I should have never let you go,” Louis says. “That's what I figured out for myself.”

“You could've just asked for space,” Harry says. “I would have understood if you'd explained.”

“I was dumb, okay?” Louis says.

Their split was ridiculous. One day Harry just got sick of Louis' avoidance and collected all his things, leaving his keys on the kitchen table.

“I'm sorry I didn't reach out to you when you left. I knew I had fucked up,” Louis says. “And I didn't know how to fix it.”

“A simple call would have worked,” Harry says, swallowing hard.

“Meant we had to discuss the problem. We've never discussed most of the things between us, because they came naturally or because problems solved themselves. Maybe I thought this problem would solve itself too. I know that's not mature, but that's how it was. But the more time passed the more I was sure that I didn't deserve to be forgiven.”

“I would have understood,” Harry says. “If you'd just talked to me, I would.”

It seems like there's so much more to discuss, but it takes energy and Harry barely has any.

Clifford wakes up from his sleep. He quietly whines, looking at Louis from Harry's lap, and Harry instantly puts his palm on the dog's head.

“I do miss Clifford,” Harry whispers quietly, scratching his fur. “But also it was an excuse to see you.”

“I guessed.”

“And didn't stop me.”

“Maybe I wanted to see you too.”

“Why?”

“Probably for the same reason you wanted to see me.”

Tentatively, Louis reaches for Harry's leg and wraps his palm around his ankle. Harry watches as his thumb circles the bone. He missed simple human contact. It feels like he hasn't been touched in years. And he's so desperate for it now that it makes his head spin.

“Why?” he insists, lifting his eyes to meet Louis' gaze.

“Because it didn't feel like the end. Neither of us called it the end.”

Harry doesn't say anything. Louis is right. It didn't feel like the end.

“Do you think you could trust me enough to let me into your life again one day?” Louis asks, while continuing to caress his ankle.

“I'd trust you with my life even now,” he says honestly.

“Yeah, because you trust me as a person. But would you let me be your friend again?”

Harry's heart beating fast and hard against his ribcage.

“You've never been just a friend to me, Louis,” he says. “I don't know how to be just friends with you.”

“So… Is it a no? Or are you saying that you'd like to have me as more than a friend?”

Harry lowers his gaze.

“Depending on what you want,” Harry says.

“Do you want it?”

Harry covers his face with palms.

“I do,” he mumbles honestly. Yet, somehow he feels ashamed of his wish. “But if you doubt even a little bit, we should stop right now and never talk about it again,” his voice is trembling. “We can't be friends,” he adds. “But I think I could manage calling you to say Happy Birthday or interact with you if we happen to visit the same event.”

Harry feels Louis loosening the grip on his leg and he almost loses control over his emotions. But then Louis chases Clifford away and takes his place between Harry's legs.

Harry feels his warmth and he feels his hesitant touch on his wrists.

“Look at me, please,” Louis says, urging him to remove his hands, and Harry obliges. He hasn't seen Louis so closely in months, and he loses his breath at the proximity.

“I'm sorry for hurting you,” Louis says. He slowly traces his knuckle down Harry's cheek. When Harry doesn't flinch away, he cups his face with one hand.

Harry closes his eyes, nosing into Louis' palm. He has missed those tender and loving touches. Louis, like no one else, could show his love through physical contact.

“You'll never doubt my love and my care again,” he says.

“Your love,” Harry repeats, looking at him. “Are you sure it's still there? We haven't kept in touch with each other for a whole year.”

“Nothing could change my feelings,” Louis says. “Even if something's changed in you, I couldn't love you less.”

“I could have started loving licorice,” Harry says, seeing confusion spread over Louis' face.

“That's… disgusting,” he says slowly. He rarely has nothing to say, and Harry's pleased to take him by surprise. “I don't– Fuck,” Louis laughs, turning away for a second before looking at Harry again. “I have no idea why the fuck you said it. But it wouldn't make me love you less.”

They both are smiling. Harry's not a person who can argue. It stresses him out. He prefers discussing things calmly and jokingly. When Louis looks at him with a smile and laughing eyes, that's when Harry gives up. He takes a tight grip of Louis' hoodie and pulls him closer, pressing his face into Louis' neck. He smells the same, and it washes over him with an urge to cry.

Harry doesn't know how it happens, but their lips find each other's. It starts with a soft touch and then there's a light brush.

Harry takes a deep breath in, and each cell in his body comes to life. It feels so familiar and so good, that Harry's instantly ready for more.

Stubble above Louis' upper lip tingles when Harry wraps his lips around it. He puts his hand on Louis' neck, tilts his head and gently sneaks his tongue in between Louis' parted lips.

It's a pretty loving kiss. There's no dominance, no race. Louis keeps his tongue soft as Harry gently twirls his own around it. Louis is a good kisser. He knows where to take the initiative and when to let it just happen. When Harry lets him suck his tongue, he sucks hard, and that's when they both know that they won't stop at that.

Harry fists Louis' hoodie with his free hand and pushes on his chest, making him lay down, hanging over him.

They keep kissing, Louis' hand slides under Harry's shirt. He touches Harry's waist and his ribs while Harry keeps his palm on Louis' chest, sensing his heartbeat.

They didn't argue much, but their make-up sex can create miracles. It's always been easier to talk after they showed each other their love physically.

When Louis' fingertips touch the hem of Harry's sweatpants, Harry breaks the kiss.

“Sorry,” Louis says, sliding his hand higher.

Harry shakes his head and touches Louis' lips to remove a wet spot of saliva. He never uses lipbalm but his lips are always naturally soft which still makes Harry jealous.

“I have lube in my bag,” he whispers, getting flushed. He feels young and afraid of refusal.

Louis tilts his head, looking at Harry suspiciously.

“Was it planned?” he asks. As if he doesn't know that Harry got used to having a condom and lube in each bag he had.

Harry shrugs.

“No,” he says.

But maybe, maybe he had some hope.

“Do you want me to get it?” Louis asks then.

“Please?”

While Louis goes for his bag that Harry left at the door, Harry takes all his clothes off.

“I think you should take those offers with nude scenes,” Louis says, coming closer and handing Harry his bag.

His eyes travel up and down Harry's body.

“What?” Harry laughs, fishing out lube and condoms out of the small pocket and throwing them on the floor.

“You're gorgeous,” Louis says, pulling off his hoodie.

Harry doesn't hide his surprise.

“Would you be okay with people watching me naked?” he asks, standing up on his knees and crawling closer to Louis to reach for his belt.

Louis has always been territorial and possessive about him, so he didn't expect to hear anything like that.

“Only if you would be okay with it,” Louis smiles, looking at Harry as he unzips the fly for him.

“Would you be okay with me fucking other people on the screen?” Harry asks then. He sees the fire flashing through Louis' eyes.

“We can talk about it later,” Louis says, stepping out of his jeans. He pulls down his pants as well, not wasting any time, and just the sight of Louis' muscled thighs makes Harry's cheeks flush.

He reaches for the lube and squeezes out a decent amount of it on his fingers. He quickly spreads it between his arsecheeks and slips two fingers inside, pushing the lube in, to make himself ready.

“Why are you still standing?” he asks. There's a small smirk playing on Louis' lips that Harry ignores. He wipes off the remains of lube on his pants that are laying next to him and squeezes Louis behind his thighs before pulling him forward.

Louis' eyes are laughing as he sits down on the floor in front of Harry, and Harry straddles his hips.

“What is it?” he asks, squinting his eyes. He doesn't like not to know what's on Louis' mind.

“Nothing,” Louis says, kissing Harry's shoulder. It's not nothing, but Harry lets it slide because he knows that he'll spill it out eventually.

He kisses Harry's neck with an open mouth. And fuck, he knows how that makes Harry feel. He squeezes Harry's bum and pulls him closer until their cocks are squeezed between their bellies.

Louis' fingers slide between Harry's arsecheeks, fingertips touch his hole.

“That's not necessary,” Harry says, losing his breath for a second, and trying to get away from the touch. “I can go like this.”

He's so turned on that he'll manage to take Louis' cock in one go. He doesn't need fingers. He doesn't need anything that gets him distracted.

Louis pulls away to look into his face. His eyes are smiling the way they did a minute ago.

“I like it when you become like that,” he murmurs.

“Horny?”

Louis lets out a short laugh.

“No,” he says. “When you know what you want and ask for it.”

“I want you inside me.”

“You'll get it,” Louis smirks, his fingers teasing the entrance once again.

“Not like that.”

“Are you in a hurry?”

Harry bites his lip, shaking his head.

Two Louis' fingers massage his rim, switching from the light pressing to more firm. Harry relaxes, nodding slightly, to give silent permission.

He's never been a big fan of fingering. Someone's fingers that weren't his own have always felt bony and it was uncomfortable and hurtful if the angle or pace was wrong.

And God, Louis knows how to make it feel good.

Louis pulls Harry closer, puts his open mouth to Harry's nipple and keeps circling his rim. Harry almost doesn't notice when Louis slips inside. He does it smoothly, and the only reason Harry knows that Louis' fingertips are in him it's because he clenches his hole around them when Louis lets out a breathing moan against his ribs.

“I'm not hurting you?” Louis whispers, leaving a wet kiss on Harry's collarbone.

Harry shakes his head, arching back to take more length and reaches forward, guiding Louis' head back to his nipple.

Louis adds more lube and fucks him with just one fingertip for a while. More like teases than fucks, but Harry enjoys it anyway. He savours the way Louis' breathing becomes heavy and the way small grunts slip from his mouth.

“More,” Harry whispers into Louis' ear, and Louis tightens his grip on Harry's waist.

That makes Harry smile.

Two fingers enter him smoothly, and Louis thrusts in and out leisurely. For a person that keeps so much chaos inside, Louis acts very deliberately and methodically when it comes to sex. But Harry can't say he's as patient.

He wants Louis inside already. And not because the sooner it starts the sooner it ends, but because he craves Louis.

“Louis,” Harry whines. “Please.”

Louis frees his fingers and squeezes himself at the base, stroking his cock a few times.

Just looking at it makes Harry thirsty. If it was happening a year ago, he would simply mount Louis and slide down without a second thought. Now, he can't do anything but look to the left where he dropped a rubber.

“Condom?” Harry asks, feeling his cheeks heating up.

“I don't need one,” Louis says, but then his lips turn into a thin line. It lasts just a split second, but Harry can't not notice it. “It's your call.”

“It's not that we have to wear it, but…” he's not sure what he wants to say.

It's just already overwhelming to have Louis like that, and Harry's not sure he can survive more. He thinks he would cry if he has him that close.

“Harry,” Louis says, eliminating the need to explain, and reaches for the condom, handing it to Harry.

When Harry touches Louis' cock, it feels like it's their first time. The difference is, then his fingers were shaking out of nervousness and now out of anticipation. He rolls the condom on Louis' cock and waits until Louis adds more lube.

Harry shifts until Louis' cock gets nested between his cheeks, and when he spreads his legs wider it sinks a bit deeper. He moves his hips slightly, sliding along the shaft, teasing Louis and himself for just a few seconds before lifting up on his knees and guiding Louis' cock so the tip gets pressed against his hole.

He meets resistance until the head slips inside and then it's much easier to take the rest.

“Champion,” Louis whispers, kissing his shoulder. He soothingly caresses Harry's thighs and the globes of his ass.

It makes Harry let out a laugh, and then he relaxes his legs and other muscles, taking a moment to catch his breath.

Louis reaches for his lips and kisses him sloppily until Harry buries his hand in Louis' hair and guides his head lower. Wet tongue against Harry's neck makes goosebumps run through his body, and he moans, closing his eyes.

He hugs Louis around his shoulders, and Louis pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around Harry's body and breathing in his scent. It gets him trapped and unable to move, but Harry hasn't felt more free and unbound than now.

When Harry tries to lift his thighs, Louis loosens his grip.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Louis whispers, squeezing his thighs.

Harry stills for a moment and frowns, looking at Louis questioningly. He doesn't see how it works.

“Come on,” Louis says, slapping his bum lightly.

Harry trusts him though. With Louis' help, he does as he's been told, then wraps his hands around Louis' neck. That brings them even closer, allowing Louis to sink deeper. Their chests are pressed together, and Harry can feel the fluff of Louis' thighs against his bum when he shifts.

“So deep like that,” he whispers with fascination.

“Mhm,” Louis murmurs, rubbing his nose against Harry's. “Knew you'd like it.”

Harry just sits there for a few moments, kissing Louis and melting at the way Louis' palms travel over his body. When he finally makes the first move with his hips, he feels Louis' muscles tensing against his own.

So Harry does that again. And again. And again.

They break the kiss, seeking oxygen, but don't pull away completely, sharing the same air and nipping each other's lips occasionally.

Louis' palms squeeze his ass, helping him gently rock back and forth. His biceps are muscular, that's what Harry notices. Louis has always been fit, but now he's more so than he remembers.

“You're working out now,” he says, squeezing Louis' hand. Just to prove that he guessed right.

“No,” Louis says with a smirk, kissing Harry under his ear.

“Liar,” he breathes out.

He can feel Louis' chest hair moving against his nipples and the tickling of his pubic hair. Louis' nose presses into Harry's neck, and his breathing sends goosebumps down Harry's body. It all makes him oversensitive.

“Fuck, it's really good like that,” he whispers.

Louis is everywhere. He licks the column of Harry's throat and his chest while his palms travel up. He wraps his hands around Harry, and holds him closer, breathing against his skin.

Harry can't move much like that but he doesn't need to. He makes tiny waves with his hips that remind him how blissfully full he is. It reminds him that Louis is actually here, inside him.

For the first time in a while Harry doesn't worry about anything at all. His mind doesn't drift off. He's just here in the moment and all he thinks about is how good he feels and how good he makes Louis feel.

His cock smears precome against Louis' skin where it's pressed between their bellies and when it becomes too much Harry pulls away.

He puts his hands behind for support, and that allows him to move more freely. Louis' gaze travels down his body, his hands desperately grab his chest.

Harry closes his eyes and throws his head back, gasping for air when Louis squeezes his nipples and pulls.

“Fuck,” he swears.

He notices his movements becoming more irregular and chaotic, and he slides off Louis' cock.

“Alright?” Louis whispers out of breath.

He mindlessly reaches for Harry, just to touch him, to soothe him, but Harry's in his head. He wraps his hand around the base of Louis' cock and moves up, managing to peel off the condom after a few hurried attempts.

He reaches for lube, smears it along his cock and catches Louis' sly look.

“Shut up,” he whispers, embarrassed for some reason.

“Didn't say anything,” Louis shrugs, but Harry knows what's on his mind.

He's sure Louis is thinking how desperate and weak for him Harry is. And well, that's not a lie.

Harry kneels above Louis and goes down until he's full again.

“God,” Louis breathes out.

If Louis were in charge, he would fuck Harry with long slow thrusts, making him feel the whole length. But since Harry's the one who's in control, he mirrors it. Slowly sliding up and down, he makes Louis feel him with every centimetre.

Nothing separates them, and fuck, that makes Harry feel so alive.

“I'm close,” Louis whispers, squeezing Harry's ass.

“I know,” he whispers back, not intending to get up. He wraps his hand around his own cock and jerks himself off. “I don't mind,” he adds, giving Louis permission.

“Fuck, you're–”

“You first,” Harry whispers, knowing well that he'll start coming the second Louis comes.

Louis squeezes his hips, helping him move, and even though Harry's legs hurt he keeps the pace.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers. His jaw clenches, and Harry feels his cock twitching inside.

Harry moves his fist a few more times until the tension builds up, and then he comes with a choked moan. Louis still pulses inside him when Harry starts clenching around him. Someone can argue with that, but for Harry it's the best kind of orgasm. He's a slut when it comes to his bum. He loves being fucked and stretched, and his orgasms are stronger when something fills him.

Harry goes limp, feeling the tickling in his feet at the force of the orgasm, and aftershocks going through his body. He grabs onto Louis' neck and pulls him closer for a short wet kiss.

He can't move his legs that have gone numb, and he's grateful for Louis who manages to handle him, laying back and pulling him along with him.

“Huh,” he breathes out, rolling over to lay next to Louis, and noses at Louis' damp neck just for a second.

Louis reaches for his hoodie, and Harry lets him take care of them, wiping them as good as he can. They love post-orgasm cuddling, but it's too hot and both of them sweaty, so Louis reaches for his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“When you held my hand in the car I felt the happiest I had in months,” Harry whispers it like it's a secret, looking at their connected hands.

“Sorry that I stopped making you happy.”

Harry shrugs. He's not angry. It's just a little bit dreary to think that everything went the way it did.

“I promise to always hold your hand,” Louis says playfully.

“And make me tea in bed?” Harry asks, looking at him.

“Promise,” Louis hums. “And rubbing your feet.”

Harry closes his eyes dreamingly.

“Wow. You're so generous.”

“Your wish is my command,” Louis says. “Do you want to take a shower?”

“Yeah.”

Louis is the first one to stand up and lends Harry his hand.

“I love the rug,” he says, running his hand through the pile one last time before taking Louis' hand. “Have always wanted one like that.”

“I know,” Louis says, smiling suspiciously.

Harry squints his eyes.

“Did I tell you that?”

“No,” Louis says. “But I saw your Pinterest board.”

“So you bought it,” Harry clarifies.

“Yes,” he says simply. “Even though I know it's a shitty idea to buy a white rug. My housemaid hates it.”

Louis walks backwards, keeping his eyes on Harry.

“Is everything alright with your leg?” Harry asks, noticing that Louis has a limp.

“Yeah,” Louis brushes off easily. “It just aches a bit when I don't move for a long time.”

He stumbles over his own feet in the doorway, and Harry catches him, holding his hand tight. Louis fails to avoid hitting the door frame though, and he hisses, rubbing his elbow.

“Louis!” Harry whines.

“I've told you, I don't have to do anything to hurt myself. It's in my nature.”

“I see,” Harry mumbles.

Louis stops.

“I don't jump off second floors and I don't get hit by cars anymore, I promise,” he says. “But that shit keeps following me, I swear.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he doesn't find himself as terrified by Louis' thirst for adventure.

When Harry enters the bathroom, he notices two toothbrushes in the holder which catches Louis' attention.

“I changed yours when I changed mine,” Louis says, stepping into the shower. “You can use it.”

“Thank you,” he says, entering the shower after Louis. He can't stop himself from kissing Louis one more time.

There are still bottles of shampoo that he used to buy, and a mist of melancholy hovers over Harry. It's a weird realisation that he was still a part of Louis' life even when Louis stopped being a part of his. He didn't do anything to forget Harry.

He tries to think about something else, to change the subject, but he's barely able to focus on it. Louis kisses him under the steam, and all Harry wants to do is purr.

“Missy passed away,” he whispers.

“When?” Louis asks softly. A tenderness in his tone envelopes Harry with comfort.

“A few days after we met last time,” Harry says.

“What happened?”

“She was old,” Harry shrugs.

“Did you have a chance to see her?”

“Yeah, I was there. Seems like she'd been waiting for me, because mum said she got really bad almost two weeks prior.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“She was a good cat,” Louis says. “Even if she almost bit off my finger.”

“It was your fault,” Harry says, smiling at the memories. “I told you not to touch her until she gets used to you.”

“Well, apparently your mum didn't think like that. She thinks cats avoid bad people.”

“That's bullshit,” Harry exclaims. “She's never said anything like that. She just… wasn't happy that you gave her weed.”

“I didn't give her weed,” Louis rolls his eyes. “She sniffed the bag that fell out of my pocket.”

“Still don't know why you brought weed with you on your first meeting with my mum. But she probably doesn't remember it at all.”

“She does,” Louis says.

“Anyway. She doesn't hate you. She just thought that you weren't serious about me.”

“Do you think a ring would have changed her mind?”

Harry stills for a moment.

“Probably,” he says. “I don't know. I don't care. I thought that we were serious.”

“We were,” Louis nods. “And actually, um. Your mum knows that too now. She called me when everything happened and we talked for hours.”

That's a really earth shattering revelation.

“She didn't tell me about it,” Harry says.

“Yeah, we agreed not to mention it to you,” Louis says. “Also I called her a couple times over this year. To ask if she needed a tea pair that she couldn't find anywhere. And, well, to wish her a Merry Christmas.”

Harry should feel betrayed but instead he feels… happy. There was always an ounce of sadness that his mum didn't accept Louis completely.

“I'm sorry I gave up on us,” Harry says. “I wish I was more persistent. I wish I made you talk to me.”

“Don't blame yourself,” Louis interrupts him. “Even if you'd acted differently, it doesn't mean I would be open to it.”

“Are you open to it now?” he asks hopefully.

Louis brushes Harry's hair away from his forehead and kisses his lips chestly.

“Very, very much.”

━━━

Harry catches Louis' gaze in the crowd. He doesn't know how that happens but every time he casually looks around, he sees Louis.

They smile at each other and get back to people they've been talking with. It's really hard to pretend that they're strangers when they're going through their honeymoon phase, but they decided it's too early to reveal their reconnection.

It was Harry's idea. And even though Louis was reluctant at first, it was easy to convince him.

For the thousandth time Harry catches Louis' eyes and excuses himself, heading straight to the bathroom. He doesn't need to check to know that Louis is following him.

In the beginning of the evening the bathroom is empty, it's going to be in demand later. Harry enters the furthest stall and leaves the door open.

It takes a few moments for Louis to join him, lock the door and get his hands all over Harry.

“You look so hot,” Louis grunts, kissing Harry's neck and squeezing his ass possessively.

Harry digs his fingers into Louis' biceps.

“Don't leave marks,” Harry hisses, but he already can feel his neck burning because of Louis' stubble. He tilts his head some more anyway, giving Louis more space.

They've discussed it. It's been barely two weeks since it was revealed to the world that Harry and Hunter splitted up. And it's too early for a new scandal, even though there is already gossip and speculation.

Harry thought it might be even fun to keep their relationship a secret but Louis is an absolute shit at that game.

“Louis,” Harry hisses when Louis bites his neck.

He puts his hand against Louis' chest and pushes against it, making him take a step back.

“Is that not enough for you?” he asks, arching his eyebrow and showing Louis the backside of his palm just like one of Single Ladies.

“Is that?… Are you?… Have you been wearing it all night?” Louis finally manages to ask.

Harry nods slightly.

It's not an engagement ring, not yet. But it's Louis' promise. To make everything right this time. To be better this time.

Louis has been wearing it on a necklace for years. He got it from his godfather when he was a child, and it's been with him all this time.

And now it's on Harry's finger.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers.

His smug smile is worth everything in this world.

“Are you satisfied?” Harry asks into the kiss when Louis squeezes his cheeks. He's grinning widely too.

“Actually, I'm not,” Louis says, bumping the tent in his jeans into Harry's thigh.

“Louis.”

“Okay,” Louis says, pecking Harry's lips. “You go first.”

And maybe Louis is still reckless and silly, he's always serious when it's really necessary. And that's why Harry knows that this time everything's going to be alright.