fic: bigger boys and stolen sweethearts
title: bigger boys and stolen sweethearts
pairing: louis/Harry
word count: .4.3k
summary He plumps onto a stool, planting his elbows on the kitchen table, propping up his chin and thinking when the hell did the compass needle get out of whack and lead his life astray? He's almost twenty-one, with an average job, living in this average apartment that's quite tedious when Zayn's not around really, he doesn't feel like he's going anywhere with his life. And between Zayn, random college kids that strike random conversations with him at the record store, and people he meets at parties, that's the only interaction he has with people, and it just has been an impossible day, of an impossible month, of an impossible year.
notes: this is for my boo, andy<3 and also thanks to rinnoa or reading it over for me.
~
It's one in the morning and Louis has just made it home alright. As alright as not having lost a limb yet or gotten himself shot is.
For all he knows that was a shady part of town he swears he's not going to take Zayn's word for. Zayn clearly isn't someone he wants to trust with his well-being as far as giving recommendations to shortcuts from the record store were concerned
Of course Zayn would think he's being melodramatic describing what he had to go through, and his very serious near-death experience. And of course he'd find Zayn on his couch, suspiciously smelling of Louis's favourite tangy cheese balls, and watching Glee.
"Great," Louis mutters, kicking off his shoes and climbing on the couch next to Zayn
"If I didn't know you, I'd think you're not so glad to see me." Zayn nudges his side, grinning
"Shut up. I almost died." Louis says. "And don't you fucking dare say I am overreacting. I've seen that whingy man take out a knife! A knife, Zayn. I could've not made it home with all ten fingers, or worse yet, I could've never made it home at all. And you would have to hear about it tomorrow in the news: a devastating tragedy found a strikingly handsome young man's body washed up the side of shore. "
"I thought you said it was an alley?" Zayn hums, popping in a cheese ball
"It's parable, Zayn." He says, "Okay it's not. But point is, I could've died. And who's fault would it have been?"
"Mine." Zayn looks away from the TV screen this time, looks at Louis almost sincerely. "You're right, I am sorry. Next time I will be sure to be there to pick you up and walk you home, princess."
"Fuck off." Louis aims for Zayn's crotch but Zayn moves away too fast and he misses him by seconds. "You're doing my grocery shopping this week, you owe me at least twenty of Reese's crispy bars." He pushes himself off the couch and into the kitchen, reaching for his cup of tea and ignoring Zayn's protests from the couch
"I am broke, you shouldn't put me in that position."
"And you should know better than to leave me for dead."
"But Louu-" A soft rap on the door stops both of them, and Zayn flops back on the couch so he won't have to get the door. Louis shakes his head, being the intruder that he is, Louis thinks Zayn would at least have the courtesy to get the door and clean after himself
"You've got the wrong apartment, Susan Boyle does not live here." Louis pulls the door open, cocking an eyebrow at the boy on the other side
The boy has got a floppy mop of curly hair, and a set of big green eyes conforming pale skin. He bites his lips and wipes his hands on the front of his jeans nervously. "I was not looking for a Susan, I mean I wasn't looking for anyone- but um, actually, I- I know it's very late but I just saw you coming in and I thought I'd say hi." He smiles flashing a set of nice teeth. "Oh I am Harry! I- I just moved in next door this morning."
"Louis. I live right across." There's a blend of both confusion and recognition on Harry's face for a second, before his face breaks into a grin. Louis offers half a smile before moving to shut the door. "Good night, Harry."
"Who was that?" Zayn asks when Louis walks back into the kitchen.
"No one."
-
Louis's running around the house in a pair of battered jeans, hair disheveled and toast between his lips. Zayn's still sprawled over the couch, and for completely unrelated reasons Louis hates that he forgot what he was looking for and kicks Zayn. "We're going to be late."
Zayn turns over, muttering, face pressed against the cushion and legs hanging down the arm of the couch
"I am going without you!" Louis yells from his room, throwing over a sweater and fixing his hair in the mirror. Zayn still has not moved an inch when Louis stops to look before he locks the door behind him, and alright there's only so much he can do. Zayn is a heavy sleeper, but maybe it's just a ploy he uses to get away from things. (which Louis still doesn't doubt is true)
"Good morning!" a voice chides at the end of the hall, and Louis has to look around first to confirm it's meant to be for him before he looks at the boy standing next-door
It's the boy from last night, all rosy cheeks and curly hair, standing with his fingers curled on the inside of his palm, and a nervous grin on his lips.
"Harry, right?" Louis furrows his brows, and Harry nods timidly. "Morning." he waves to, walking down the hallway, turning once to see if he's following. "Are you on your way out?"
"Oh! Yes, ye- um, sorry." Harry tags along, hands buried inside the pockets of his jeans awkwardly, and from a moment to another he steals a glance at Louis, and it's not like Louis doesn't know what he's doing
"You're awfully quiet," Louis notes, stepping out of the door after Harry holds it open for both of them. The sun's shining down too brightly outside, but he can make out the bright green eyes and the soft curls peeking out under a beanie.
"Not much to say." Harry says, rosy cheeks and all.
Louis smiles, he's got a pretty accent and his words are assortments of something beautiful. "Where you from then, Haz?" he asks. "you don't mind if I called you that, do you?"
Harry shakes his head, "Cheshire."
"The posh end, I take it." He looks Harry over, shiny shoes, natty clothes, something he'll never see Zayn in that's for sure, and the thought almost makes him laugh. "What's your favourite band?"
Harry takes a minute to respond, "The Arctic Monkeys,"
Louis nods. "Alright, how about food?"
"That's easy," Harry grins. "Chocolate."
"A kiss is a ridiculous name to give a piece of chocolate shaped like a water droplet, don't you think?" Louis muses. "I mean, kisses are supposed to be hot, melting chocolate, even if it's wrapped up in an astronaut suit made out of tinfoil."
"I suppose, yeah." Harry says, cheeks flushed red. "You make a fair point."
"Are you turning right, too?" he asks before Harry responds to the plaint, stops mid-track to look at him
"Huh?"
"You're headed," he grins, "which way?"
"Oh, I am headed to the bus station," Harry adds in. He is ridiculously tall. But he turns on his feet like a tiny endearing thing Louis would love to keep
"Great!" Louis chides, make as to turn to the other side, walking another block in this cold could be hard, but it couldn't be avoided
"See you around, Louis." Harry calls, and Louis can hear the ridiculous grin on his face even from outer space
Harry's maybe too happy, but it's a nice change. It's a nice change from himself and from Zayn and from everyone he knows. It's nice.
The rest of the morning, Louis sits behind the counter and tries his best to manage a smile sweet enough not to scare the people who walk in the store. A few college kids go in and out, who are like always, looking around, walking out, dragging in their ironic involvement with catchy pop songs and almost forgetting to take their Starbucks cups out with them. Sometimes they just walk in to make a phone call because it's so quiet inside. It's just not as much when they start to talk. And that, Louis hates more than anything. A few turn the jukebox on, which despite what Louis always tells Zayn, is actually his favourite part of the day. He's picked the songs himself
Zayn calls around afternoon, and Louis has to at least give him credit for that. It's barely twelve pm and he's awake enough to call, that's some major character development
"Am I fired yet?" Louis smiles skittishly around the pencil he's been gnawing at, decides it's maybe fun to hear Zayn squirm and fret because he doesn't do much of it anyway
"You know, if you're worried so much, why don't you just show up to work on time?"
There's a shuffling on the other side of the line, It could be Zayn crying his eyes out for all he knows. "Louis, just say it."
"I don't know Zayn, but there isn't much to say."
"You covered for me?!" Louis rolls his eyes for good measure, even if Zayn can't and won't see it. He wants to say that's not what I said. Or something mean to let Zayn know he's upset with him because he's been here all morning alone, but Zayn rushes words out before he could even as much as form a sound of a letter. "I love you! You're the best!"
"And you're the worst," Louis mutters, "Now get me a cup of coffee and show up."
"Yes, master, anything you want." He can hear Zayn's sigh and him relaxing. "I really do, love you."
"I know."
"What happened to your modesty and all in all unpretentiousness?"
"I met you, remember?"
"You wound me."
"Goodbye, Zayn."
The soft music playing in the background, the cold crisp air wafting through the window, and the smell of old pristine wood should all contribute to the reposeful feeling he needs, but the couple who walk in are insisting on making it even more so difficult to relax without his regular fix of coffee.
He tries to meet the one closest to the counter's eyes to convey that he's fucking pissed and that he can't enjoy this afternoon, but they walk between the isles and knock out a couple of records and giggle, with tipsy footing and all.
So he decides to put on his earpieces and block out the noise. When he looks up a few minutes later, thankfully, they had disappeared
Zayn has two cups of coffee when he walks in, and he grins wide and big. Louis rolls his eyes, taking his coffee and having a long sip
"Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing you would want to go through."
"And you're sparing me the grouching?" Zayn sets his coffee cup on the table and slides on the sofa across. "That's a first."
"Sod off. I am not just about to give you the privilege of hearing me talk. It's too early for it." Louis climbs off the chair, and throws his weight on the sofa, next to Zayn. "For you anyways."
"Of course."
"We should go out tonight."
Zayn sighs, flips through the book on his lap, tries to catch a word to look at- anywhere but into Louis's eyes. "Ever since Liam lent you his Friends box set you're no fun. All you do is lay around, sleeping, and hoarding my TV." Louis tucks his feet under Zayn's thigh, nudging him. "What happened to your TV? remember? The one at your apartment."
"I told you, it's broken." Zayn replies, not taking his eyes off the book, much to Louis's annoyance
"And you haven't thought to fix it?" Zayn only hums.
"I require your full attention," he says whipping the book out of Zayn's hold. "You're coming out tonight. That's final."
"I don't want to."
"Well, too bad, because I want you to." That's it, discussion's over. Louis gets his way, struts out of the store to get lunch for both of them and Zayn judges him from where he's sitting on the couch.
-
"So, a friend of Niall's is throwing this party tonight and Niall says it would be fun," Louis talks between mouthfuls of burger. "I mean, you'd have to give Niall credit for that, his friends throw the best parties."
"Hm." Zayn nods, picking at his spaghetti
"What's with you? Don't think for a second you're going to get yourself out of this by pretending you don't feel well," Louis says. "I am doing this for your own good."
"I don't think so, no. For your own good, maybe, yes."
"Fair play." Louis shrugs, stealing Zayn's fries. "You just never go out much anymore, I just want you to loosen up a little, maybe remember how good we were together," he sighs dramatically. "my trustworthy, wingman-"
Zayn grins, "I know what you're doing-" he remarks. "and if you weren't busy being a git, you would've heard me say yes."
"Who are you calling a git, you git!"
Zayn laughs, "I'll even let you pick what I should wear, if it makes you feel better."
"Are you implying I am a control freak?"
"I wasn't implying anything, Louis."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Zayn shrugs, and Louis frowns up at him through his fringe, huffs and eats the rest of his fries
-
Zayn is fairly certain it's Louis's way of punishing him (for what exactly?) when the sixth episode in row starts and he still hasn't finished getting ready
Just when he turns the voice down and gets up, Louis appears in the door, beer in hand, offering Zayn one. "When're we leaving? Zayn ask, looking bored and watching Louis.
"Right now." Louis says putting down the bottle of beer and digging out his phone out of his pocket to read the directions Niall's texted him
At the party, Niall waves the second they make it past the people packed at the front door and Louis sort of spills through the crowd loosely, accepting the drink Niall hands him and already moving towards where the music is the loudest, packed with a lot, a lot of people
Zayn walks into the kitchen where they seem to keep the drinks, and maybe then, he can get pleasantly, numbly, drunk
A dark-haired boy hovers by Louis the entire time, and it takes Louis a bit of a long time to detach himself from the dance floor, looking for Zayn. He stops by Niall when he sees him, asks him if he had seen Zayn, but Niall shakes his head and says the kitchen's the last place he saw him in. So Louis checks there, the kitchen, but there's just a bunch of people making out and it gets really hot and Louis's maybe the slightest furious
He just hadn't realised the dark-haired boy has followed him, and okay, he's pretty and he feels good, and Zayn still hasn't shown up and Louis may be really, really pissed to care anyways. And Zayn's never going to see the end of it, really, Louis's maybe a bit more than upset with his best friend's incompetence of a good party
"You know, it's his loss anyways." Louis speaks, lips swollen from kissing and nose red. He raises a finger and waves in the general of the whole party (maybe?) "This is a great party," he moves to balance himself against the counter and knocks out a chair, laughing.
"Whoa, Lou, you okay?" Niall says, laughing. "Did you find, Zayn yet?"
"Does it look like I've found Zayn yet," he rolls his eyes, huffing. "he's probably went home. What a pussy." Niall laughs again, louder this time and tucks his arm around Louis's tiny waist.
"You should probably go home too,"
"Yeah, I probably should," there's just a lot to do, make it home and still be mad at Zayn, work tomorrow, get a hotdog
"I really don't think that's a good idea, and you can still be mad at Zayn tomorrow." Louis's about to ask if he had been thinking out loud, but he shrugs, staggering to the door while leaning against Niall who calls a cab
"Make sure you get him inside the building!" He hears Niall say, which is an absurd allegation, he can get himself home alright without the help of anyone. But Niall smacks a kiss against his cheek and shuts the cab door behind him. "Good night, Lou!"
He considers asking the cab driver to stop at a hotdog stand, but settles for keeping it Zayn's rebuke to buy him one tomorrow. It's the least he could do for leaving him, really.
When the car pulls up, Louis feebly tries opening the door, and on his third attempt he finally gets his fingers hooked coordinately around the handle, enough to push it open. See, it could be harder, but it's not, he can take care of himself
He makes it in, and thinks about all the nasty things he could say to Zayn to make him feel bad for leaving him behind, or at least ask for his permission to leave. Maybe he'll even hide his Christopher Nolan movie collection, just for good measure and to have him just as sorry as he should be.
Louis's really grateful he's only on the second floor, otherwise this whole ordeal of walking to his apartment could've been much unbearable. He almost wants to kick at the still out-of-order elevator, but refrains from it. It's quiet degrading their landlord still hadn't bothered to send down the elevator company or whatever, whoever to fix it
When he makes it to his floor, Louis pushes the door open, then mutters a curse when it doesn't budge. He fishes through the pockets of his jeans, finds the key and tries to turn it inside the lock, but it just won't fit
"Hey," a dim light streams in the hallway when suddenly the door next to his spills open
"Harry!" Louis grins, moves to throw his arms around the taller boy. "you look good," he says. But Harry's in a pair of black boxers only, and maybe his sober self won't like it if he'd heard himself talk the way he is now. Not that he wouldn't be saying something as equally embarrassing if he was sober, too. But you know.
"Thanks? You do too." Harry says, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
"You should come to this party, next Friday, at Ni's place! Ni's my friend, Niall- I mean, it should be fun, I'd like you to come."
"Sure," Harry smiles, then looks at the door. "Have trouble getting in?"
"Um, the door's sort of dancing, yeah." Louis says, taking a step back, small enough to let Harry get close without losing the warmth of his body against his side. Harry's neck's bare and soft, and maybe Louis thinks about suck little kisses there but before he could do as much as breathe, Harry pushes the door open, "Good night, Louis."
-
Louis wakes up the next morning feeling like complete, and utter shit. With the pounding in his head it's a miracle he's even made it so far to the living room without yelling at anything out of sheer frustration
Zayn's in the kitchen, humming, making something, it smells good but Louis's going to tell him otherwise if he asks. At least he remembers he hates Zayn out of everything that happened last night. Zayn is no good. He's a terrible, terrible, friend.
"Morning," Proper breakfast, that's what Zayn's cooking. Poached eggs, toast with butter, baked beans, bacon, actual proper breakfast. He's whistling to the prelude of Bruno Mars's Locked Out Of Heaven along with the radio. Perfect cooking music, Louis thinks, if not mildly annoying
He plumps onto a stool, planting his elbows on the kitchen table, propping up his chin and thinking when the hell did the compass needle get out of whack and lead his life astray? He's almost twenty-one, with an average job, living in this average apartmen that's quite tedious when Zayn's not around really, he doesn't feel like he's going anywhere with his life. And between Zayn, random college kids that strike random conversations with him at the record store, and people he meets at parties, that's the only interaction he has with people, and it just has been an impossible day, of an impossible month, of an impossible year.
Zayn looks once at him, reaches for a glass of water and a pill, setting them on the counter in front of Louis
"I can't believe you," Louis mutters, downing the pills with water, and fixing Zayn with a glance. It's even more so irritating that Zayn decided to cook breakfast. As if, that would make Louis forgive him
But Zayn only grins, sets the plates on the kitchen table and drags out a chair for Louis. "Sorry, boo." He doesn't even look sorry, Louis's pretty sure he is not sorry. He huffs, grabbing a fork and stabbing it into a poached egg
"The boy next door fancies you." Zayn says, without an introduction, and Louis chokes on his coffee, missing a step
"What?"
"Harry, tall, curly hair, green eyes, cute as fuck," Zayn explains.
"I know how he is," Louis says impatiently. "Just when did you two get all friendly to start talking about me."
"Last night," Zayn grins, and something tells Louis he's going to really regret he asked. "He kept asking about you, and, really, I think it's cute."
"Oh god." Louis shakes his head.
"You need this," Zayn says, a hint of a smile curling at his upper lip. "You two might hit it off, even if you end up just being friends, he's a nice lad."
"Wait." Louis stops walking, he knows Zayn. He knows Zayn sometimes thinks it's okay to act on his own accord and fuck things up for Louis. "By 'you need this', what exactly did you mean?"
"I gave him your number." Zayn says breezily, pushing the door to the store open
"Zayn!" Louis cries, shoving Zayn and stalking up inside. "You can't give my number to people you just met! And who says I need this? I am perfectly fine, living life in the fucking moment!"
"Louis, it'll be fine," Zayn waves airily, slumping down on the couch.
"No, Zayn," Louis shakes his fist angrily, as if to proof a point. "I don't need this, you have to understand that. I am happy, content."
"Look, if it's going to make you feel better I'll do something you tell me to do." Zayn raises his hands.
"Okay," Louis says, voice rising up. "Punch yourself in the face, you idiot."
Gasping, Zayn replies. "I just was punched in the face! By your cruel words!"
Louis scrunches his nose and sneers at Zayn, dragging the chair propped down by the sofa away from where he can see Zayn, or hear him, breathing. It's just not his call to make. He doesn't need to get to know that kid, Harry. He'll only admit to have thought of how pretty he looks, but he doesn't even likes him
When he checks his phone Friday, a message reads:
Hey, what time's the party tonight
x Hazza
Then it occurs him; Zayn really is a terrible friend
-
The party's just like Louis promised it would be. Fun, or whatever. It's just, Harry really doesn't know anyone here, and so at the first sign of Zayn he starts to relax, pushing through the pack of people crammed near the bar and towards him
Zayn grins when he sees him. Harry didn't really know anyone just as pretty as Zayn could exist. It's unfair. But there's a group of college kids hanging around the bar, getting a shot after shot, and there's not at all any sign of Louis, and Harry really wants to see Louis. It's just feels like he's thirteen again and Louis's his crush. All he's aware of in this entire roomful of people is Louis. Where Louis is, what he's doing, who he's talking to, Louis, Louis, Louis.
"You made it," Zayn says smiling, then turns to to lean against the bar, asking the bartender for more drinks
"Yeah," Harry nods. "I got a bit lost though," he sighs, accepting the drink Zayn offers him. "Where's Louis?" he asks, and Zayn scrunches up his nose then motions to where the music's louder, at the centre of the room where everyone's having a laugh, dancing, drinking, snogging. There's Louis too, dancing, beer in hand, a drunk finger levelling up at the tacky mirror ball. He's dancing abutting a blonde boy, pale, red cheeks, and maybe Harry's heart flatters more than just a little.
"That's just Niall." Zayn says
Harry doesn't know what 'that's just Niall' means. That's just Niall, Louis's long-term boyfriend? Or exactly what is he supposed to think? He'd really wish if it wasn't that, though. He really likes Louis
"Go up to him," Zayn continues, "He won't show it, but he'd like that."
Okay. Sure, Harry can do that. Go up to Louis and make a fool out of himself. It's not the first time he's done it anyways, making a fool out of himself. So when he finds himself standing inches away from Louis, he things he may begin to feel that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach again. But Louis looks up eyes bright and smiles toothily, cheeks flushed a bright red from the alcohol.
It's involuntary, Harry goes flush in the face, stomach, and neck; he feels his toes curl in his sneakers
"I, um," He says, staring at Louis's mouth. Maybe he's thinking about chocolates, and hot kisses, and melting chocolate, and how maybe Louis has high expectations and he starts to worry
"Thought you'd never show up," Louis grins and Harry doesn't really think, he just leans in for a kiss that bows Louis's back and brings their hips flush and tight. Louis gasps, arms looping around Harry's neck and tightening, while Harry pulls him in with with hot palms closer against him.
Harry's mouth opens, tongue skirting, biting softly in a way that makes Louis ache. "You," Louis says, pushing back and gasping, the quirky curl of her upper lip shoots out a strange angle. "Need to get a hold of yourself."
"You're not exactly making it easy," Harry says vaguely, huffing a laugh and kissing Louis.
"We never chose anything at all," Louis breathes. "Things just happen."
pairing: louis/Harry
word count: .4.3k
summary He plumps onto a stool, planting his elbows on the kitchen table, propping up his chin and thinking when the hell did the compass needle get out of whack and lead his life astray? He's almost twenty-one, with an average job, living in this average apartment that's quite tedious when Zayn's not around really, he doesn't feel like he's going anywhere with his life. And between Zayn, random college kids that strike random conversations with him at the record store, and people he meets at parties, that's the only interaction he has with people, and it just has been an impossible day, of an impossible month, of an impossible year.
notes: this is for my boo, andy<3 and also thanks to rinnoa or reading it over for me.
~
It's one in the morning and Louis has just made it home alright. As alright as not having lost a limb yet or gotten himself shot is.
For all he knows that was a shady part of town he swears he's not going to take Zayn's word for. Zayn clearly isn't someone he wants to trust with his well-being as far as giving recommendations to shortcuts from the record store were concerned
Of course Zayn would think he's being melodramatic describing what he had to go through, and his very serious near-death experience. And of course he'd find Zayn on his couch, suspiciously smelling of Louis's favourite tangy cheese balls, and watching Glee.
"Great," Louis mutters, kicking off his shoes and climbing on the couch next to Zayn
"If I didn't know you, I'd think you're not so glad to see me." Zayn nudges his side, grinning
"Shut up. I almost died." Louis says. "And don't you fucking dare say I am overreacting. I've seen that whingy man take out a knife! A knife, Zayn. I could've not made it home with all ten fingers, or worse yet, I could've never made it home at all. And you would have to hear about it tomorrow in the news: a devastating tragedy found a strikingly handsome young man's body washed up the side of shore. "
"I thought you said it was an alley?" Zayn hums, popping in a cheese ball
"It's parable, Zayn." He says, "Okay it's not. But point is, I could've died. And who's fault would it have been?"
"Mine." Zayn looks away from the TV screen this time, looks at Louis almost sincerely. "You're right, I am sorry. Next time I will be sure to be there to pick you up and walk you home, princess."
"Fuck off." Louis aims for Zayn's crotch but Zayn moves away too fast and he misses him by seconds. "You're doing my grocery shopping this week, you owe me at least twenty of Reese's crispy bars." He pushes himself off the couch and into the kitchen, reaching for his cup of tea and ignoring Zayn's protests from the couch
"I am broke, you shouldn't put me in that position."
"And you should know better than to leave me for dead."
"But Louu-" A soft rap on the door stops both of them, and Zayn flops back on the couch so he won't have to get the door. Louis shakes his head, being the intruder that he is, Louis thinks Zayn would at least have the courtesy to get the door and clean after himself
"You've got the wrong apartment, Susan Boyle does not live here." Louis pulls the door open, cocking an eyebrow at the boy on the other side
The boy has got a floppy mop of curly hair, and a set of big green eyes conforming pale skin. He bites his lips and wipes his hands on the front of his jeans nervously. "I was not looking for a Susan, I mean I wasn't looking for anyone- but um, actually, I- I know it's very late but I just saw you coming in and I thought I'd say hi." He smiles flashing a set of nice teeth. "Oh I am Harry! I- I just moved in next door this morning."
"Louis. I live right across." There's a blend of both confusion and recognition on Harry's face for a second, before his face breaks into a grin. Louis offers half a smile before moving to shut the door. "Good night, Harry."
"Who was that?" Zayn asks when Louis walks back into the kitchen.
"No one."
-
Louis's running around the house in a pair of battered jeans, hair disheveled and toast between his lips. Zayn's still sprawled over the couch, and for completely unrelated reasons Louis hates that he forgot what he was looking for and kicks Zayn. "We're going to be late."
Zayn turns over, muttering, face pressed against the cushion and legs hanging down the arm of the couch
"I am going without you!" Louis yells from his room, throwing over a sweater and fixing his hair in the mirror. Zayn still has not moved an inch when Louis stops to look before he locks the door behind him, and alright there's only so much he can do. Zayn is a heavy sleeper, but maybe it's just a ploy he uses to get away from things. (which Louis still doesn't doubt is true)
"Good morning!" a voice chides at the end of the hall, and Louis has to look around first to confirm it's meant to be for him before he looks at the boy standing next-door
It's the boy from last night, all rosy cheeks and curly hair, standing with his fingers curled on the inside of his palm, and a nervous grin on his lips.
"Harry, right?" Louis furrows his brows, and Harry nods timidly. "Morning." he waves to, walking down the hallway, turning once to see if he's following. "Are you on your way out?"
"Oh! Yes, ye- um, sorry." Harry tags along, hands buried inside the pockets of his jeans awkwardly, and from a moment to another he steals a glance at Louis, and it's not like Louis doesn't know what he's doing
"You're awfully quiet," Louis notes, stepping out of the door after Harry holds it open for both of them. The sun's shining down too brightly outside, but he can make out the bright green eyes and the soft curls peeking out under a beanie.
"Not much to say." Harry says, rosy cheeks and all.
Louis smiles, he's got a pretty accent and his words are assortments of something beautiful. "Where you from then, Haz?" he asks. "you don't mind if I called you that, do you?"
Harry shakes his head, "Cheshire."
"The posh end, I take it." He looks Harry over, shiny shoes, natty clothes, something he'll never see Zayn in that's for sure, and the thought almost makes him laugh. "What's your favourite band?"
Harry takes a minute to respond, "The Arctic Monkeys,"
Louis nods. "Alright, how about food?"
"That's easy," Harry grins. "Chocolate."
"A kiss is a ridiculous name to give a piece of chocolate shaped like a water droplet, don't you think?" Louis muses. "I mean, kisses are supposed to be hot, melting chocolate, even if it's wrapped up in an astronaut suit made out of tinfoil."
"I suppose, yeah." Harry says, cheeks flushed red. "You make a fair point."
"Are you turning right, too?" he asks before Harry responds to the plaint, stops mid-track to look at him
"Huh?"
"You're headed," he grins, "which way?"
"Oh, I am headed to the bus station," Harry adds in. He is ridiculously tall. But he turns on his feet like a tiny endearing thing Louis would love to keep
"Great!" Louis chides, make as to turn to the other side, walking another block in this cold could be hard, but it couldn't be avoided
"See you around, Louis." Harry calls, and Louis can hear the ridiculous grin on his face even from outer space
Harry's maybe too happy, but it's a nice change. It's a nice change from himself and from Zayn and from everyone he knows. It's nice.
The rest of the morning, Louis sits behind the counter and tries his best to manage a smile sweet enough not to scare the people who walk in the store. A few college kids go in and out, who are like always, looking around, walking out, dragging in their ironic involvement with catchy pop songs and almost forgetting to take their Starbucks cups out with them. Sometimes they just walk in to make a phone call because it's so quiet inside. It's just not as much when they start to talk. And that, Louis hates more than anything. A few turn the jukebox on, which despite what Louis always tells Zayn, is actually his favourite part of the day. He's picked the songs himself
Zayn calls around afternoon, and Louis has to at least give him credit for that. It's barely twelve pm and he's awake enough to call, that's some major character development
"Am I fired yet?" Louis smiles skittishly around the pencil he's been gnawing at, decides it's maybe fun to hear Zayn squirm and fret because he doesn't do much of it anyway
"You know, if you're worried so much, why don't you just show up to work on time?"
There's a shuffling on the other side of the line, It could be Zayn crying his eyes out for all he knows. "Louis, just say it."
"I don't know Zayn, but there isn't much to say."
"You covered for me?!" Louis rolls his eyes for good measure, even if Zayn can't and won't see it. He wants to say that's not what I said. Or something mean to let Zayn know he's upset with him because he's been here all morning alone, but Zayn rushes words out before he could even as much as form a sound of a letter. "I love you! You're the best!"
"And you're the worst," Louis mutters, "Now get me a cup of coffee and show up."
"Yes, master, anything you want." He can hear Zayn's sigh and him relaxing. "I really do, love you."
"I know."
"What happened to your modesty and all in all unpretentiousness?"
"I met you, remember?"
"You wound me."
"Goodbye, Zayn."
The soft music playing in the background, the cold crisp air wafting through the window, and the smell of old pristine wood should all contribute to the reposeful feeling he needs, but the couple who walk in are insisting on making it even more so difficult to relax without his regular fix of coffee.
He tries to meet the one closest to the counter's eyes to convey that he's fucking pissed and that he can't enjoy this afternoon, but they walk between the isles and knock out a couple of records and giggle, with tipsy footing and all.
So he decides to put on his earpieces and block out the noise. When he looks up a few minutes later, thankfully, they had disappeared
Zayn has two cups of coffee when he walks in, and he grins wide and big. Louis rolls his eyes, taking his coffee and having a long sip
"Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing you would want to go through."
"And you're sparing me the grouching?" Zayn sets his coffee cup on the table and slides on the sofa across. "That's a first."
"Sod off. I am not just about to give you the privilege of hearing me talk. It's too early for it." Louis climbs off the chair, and throws his weight on the sofa, next to Zayn. "For you anyways."
"Of course."
"We should go out tonight."
Zayn sighs, flips through the book on his lap, tries to catch a word to look at- anywhere but into Louis's eyes. "Ever since Liam lent you his Friends box set you're no fun. All you do is lay around, sleeping, and hoarding my TV." Louis tucks his feet under Zayn's thigh, nudging him. "What happened to your TV? remember? The one at your apartment."
"I told you, it's broken." Zayn replies, not taking his eyes off the book, much to Louis's annoyance
"And you haven't thought to fix it?" Zayn only hums.
"I require your full attention," he says whipping the book out of Zayn's hold. "You're coming out tonight. That's final."
"I don't want to."
"Well, too bad, because I want you to." That's it, discussion's over. Louis gets his way, struts out of the store to get lunch for both of them and Zayn judges him from where he's sitting on the couch.
-
"So, a friend of Niall's is throwing this party tonight and Niall says it would be fun," Louis talks between mouthfuls of burger. "I mean, you'd have to give Niall credit for that, his friends throw the best parties."
"Hm." Zayn nods, picking at his spaghetti
"What's with you? Don't think for a second you're going to get yourself out of this by pretending you don't feel well," Louis says. "I am doing this for your own good."
"I don't think so, no. For your own good, maybe, yes."
"Fair play." Louis shrugs, stealing Zayn's fries. "You just never go out much anymore, I just want you to loosen up a little, maybe remember how good we were together," he sighs dramatically. "my trustworthy, wingman-"
Zayn grins, "I know what you're doing-" he remarks. "and if you weren't busy being a git, you would've heard me say yes."
"Who are you calling a git, you git!"
Zayn laughs, "I'll even let you pick what I should wear, if it makes you feel better."
"Are you implying I am a control freak?"
"I wasn't implying anything, Louis."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Zayn shrugs, and Louis frowns up at him through his fringe, huffs and eats the rest of his fries
-
Zayn is fairly certain it's Louis's way of punishing him (for what exactly?) when the sixth episode in row starts and he still hasn't finished getting ready
Just when he turns the voice down and gets up, Louis appears in the door, beer in hand, offering Zayn one. "When're we leaving? Zayn ask, looking bored and watching Louis.
"Right now." Louis says putting down the bottle of beer and digging out his phone out of his pocket to read the directions Niall's texted him
At the party, Niall waves the second they make it past the people packed at the front door and Louis sort of spills through the crowd loosely, accepting the drink Niall hands him and already moving towards where the music is the loudest, packed with a lot, a lot of people
Zayn walks into the kitchen where they seem to keep the drinks, and maybe then, he can get pleasantly, numbly, drunk
A dark-haired boy hovers by Louis the entire time, and it takes Louis a bit of a long time to detach himself from the dance floor, looking for Zayn. He stops by Niall when he sees him, asks him if he had seen Zayn, but Niall shakes his head and says the kitchen's the last place he saw him in. So Louis checks there, the kitchen, but there's just a bunch of people making out and it gets really hot and Louis's maybe the slightest furious
He just hadn't realised the dark-haired boy has followed him, and okay, he's pretty and he feels good, and Zayn still hasn't shown up and Louis may be really, really pissed to care anyways. And Zayn's never going to see the end of it, really, Louis's maybe a bit more than upset with his best friend's incompetence of a good party
"You know, it's his loss anyways." Louis speaks, lips swollen from kissing and nose red. He raises a finger and waves in the general of the whole party (maybe?) "This is a great party," he moves to balance himself against the counter and knocks out a chair, laughing.
"Whoa, Lou, you okay?" Niall says, laughing. "Did you find, Zayn yet?"
"Does it look like I've found Zayn yet," he rolls his eyes, huffing. "he's probably went home. What a pussy." Niall laughs again, louder this time and tucks his arm around Louis's tiny waist.
"You should probably go home too,"
"Yeah, I probably should," there's just a lot to do, make it home and still be mad at Zayn, work tomorrow, get a hotdog
"I really don't think that's a good idea, and you can still be mad at Zayn tomorrow." Louis's about to ask if he had been thinking out loud, but he shrugs, staggering to the door while leaning against Niall who calls a cab
"Make sure you get him inside the building!" He hears Niall say, which is an absurd allegation, he can get himself home alright without the help of anyone. But Niall smacks a kiss against his cheek and shuts the cab door behind him. "Good night, Lou!"
He considers asking the cab driver to stop at a hotdog stand, but settles for keeping it Zayn's rebuke to buy him one tomorrow. It's the least he could do for leaving him, really.
When the car pulls up, Louis feebly tries opening the door, and on his third attempt he finally gets his fingers hooked coordinately around the handle, enough to push it open. See, it could be harder, but it's not, he can take care of himself
He makes it in, and thinks about all the nasty things he could say to Zayn to make him feel bad for leaving him behind, or at least ask for his permission to leave. Maybe he'll even hide his Christopher Nolan movie collection, just for good measure and to have him just as sorry as he should be.
Louis's really grateful he's only on the second floor, otherwise this whole ordeal of walking to his apartment could've been much unbearable. He almost wants to kick at the still out-of-order elevator, but refrains from it. It's quiet degrading their landlord still hadn't bothered to send down the elevator company or whatever, whoever to fix it
When he makes it to his floor, Louis pushes the door open, then mutters a curse when it doesn't budge. He fishes through the pockets of his jeans, finds the key and tries to turn it inside the lock, but it just won't fit
"Hey," a dim light streams in the hallway when suddenly the door next to his spills open
"Harry!" Louis grins, moves to throw his arms around the taller boy. "you look good," he says. But Harry's in a pair of black boxers only, and maybe his sober self won't like it if he'd heard himself talk the way he is now. Not that he wouldn't be saying something as equally embarrassing if he was sober, too. But you know.
"Thanks? You do too." Harry says, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
"You should come to this party, next Friday, at Ni's place! Ni's my friend, Niall- I mean, it should be fun, I'd like you to come."
"Sure," Harry smiles, then looks at the door. "Have trouble getting in?"
"Um, the door's sort of dancing, yeah." Louis says, taking a step back, small enough to let Harry get close without losing the warmth of his body against his side. Harry's neck's bare and soft, and maybe Louis thinks about suck little kisses there but before he could do as much as breathe, Harry pushes the door open, "Good night, Louis."
-
Louis wakes up the next morning feeling like complete, and utter shit. With the pounding in his head it's a miracle he's even made it so far to the living room without yelling at anything out of sheer frustration
Zayn's in the kitchen, humming, making something, it smells good but Louis's going to tell him otherwise if he asks. At least he remembers he hates Zayn out of everything that happened last night. Zayn is no good. He's a terrible, terrible, friend.
"Morning," Proper breakfast, that's what Zayn's cooking. Poached eggs, toast with butter, baked beans, bacon, actual proper breakfast. He's whistling to the prelude of Bruno Mars's Locked Out Of Heaven along with the radio. Perfect cooking music, Louis thinks, if not mildly annoying
He plumps onto a stool, planting his elbows on the kitchen table, propping up his chin and thinking when the hell did the compass needle get out of whack and lead his life astray? He's almost twenty-one, with an average job, living in this average apartmen that's quite tedious when Zayn's not around really, he doesn't feel like he's going anywhere with his life. And between Zayn, random college kids that strike random conversations with him at the record store, and people he meets at parties, that's the only interaction he has with people, and it just has been an impossible day, of an impossible month, of an impossible year.
Zayn looks once at him, reaches for a glass of water and a pill, setting them on the counter in front of Louis
"I can't believe you," Louis mutters, downing the pills with water, and fixing Zayn with a glance. It's even more so irritating that Zayn decided to cook breakfast. As if, that would make Louis forgive him
But Zayn only grins, sets the plates on the kitchen table and drags out a chair for Louis. "Sorry, boo." He doesn't even look sorry, Louis's pretty sure he is not sorry. He huffs, grabbing a fork and stabbing it into a poached egg
"The boy next door fancies you." Zayn says, without an introduction, and Louis chokes on his coffee, missing a step
"What?"
"Harry, tall, curly hair, green eyes, cute as fuck," Zayn explains.
"I know how he is," Louis says impatiently. "Just when did you two get all friendly to start talking about me."
"Last night," Zayn grins, and something tells Louis he's going to really regret he asked. "He kept asking about you, and, really, I think it's cute."
"Oh god." Louis shakes his head.
"You need this," Zayn says, a hint of a smile curling at his upper lip. "You two might hit it off, even if you end up just being friends, he's a nice lad."
"Wait." Louis stops walking, he knows Zayn. He knows Zayn sometimes thinks it's okay to act on his own accord and fuck things up for Louis. "By 'you need this', what exactly did you mean?"
"I gave him your number." Zayn says breezily, pushing the door to the store open
"Zayn!" Louis cries, shoving Zayn and stalking up inside. "You can't give my number to people you just met! And who says I need this? I am perfectly fine, living life in the fucking moment!"
"Louis, it'll be fine," Zayn waves airily, slumping down on the couch.
"No, Zayn," Louis shakes his fist angrily, as if to proof a point. "I don't need this, you have to understand that. I am happy, content."
"Look, if it's going to make you feel better I'll do something you tell me to do." Zayn raises his hands.
"Okay," Louis says, voice rising up. "Punch yourself in the face, you idiot."
Gasping, Zayn replies. "I just was punched in the face! By your cruel words!"
Louis scrunches his nose and sneers at Zayn, dragging the chair propped down by the sofa away from where he can see Zayn, or hear him, breathing. It's just not his call to make. He doesn't need to get to know that kid, Harry. He'll only admit to have thought of how pretty he looks, but he doesn't even likes him
When he checks his phone Friday, a message reads:
Hey, what time's the party tonight
x Hazza
Then it occurs him; Zayn really is a terrible friend
-
The party's just like Louis promised it would be. Fun, or whatever. It's just, Harry really doesn't know anyone here, and so at the first sign of Zayn he starts to relax, pushing through the pack of people crammed near the bar and towards him
Zayn grins when he sees him. Harry didn't really know anyone just as pretty as Zayn could exist. It's unfair. But there's a group of college kids hanging around the bar, getting a shot after shot, and there's not at all any sign of Louis, and Harry really wants to see Louis. It's just feels like he's thirteen again and Louis's his crush. All he's aware of in this entire roomful of people is Louis. Where Louis is, what he's doing, who he's talking to, Louis, Louis, Louis.
"You made it," Zayn says smiling, then turns to to lean against the bar, asking the bartender for more drinks
"Yeah," Harry nods. "I got a bit lost though," he sighs, accepting the drink Zayn offers him. "Where's Louis?" he asks, and Zayn scrunches up his nose then motions to where the music's louder, at the centre of the room where everyone's having a laugh, dancing, drinking, snogging. There's Louis too, dancing, beer in hand, a drunk finger levelling up at the tacky mirror ball. He's dancing abutting a blonde boy, pale, red cheeks, and maybe Harry's heart flatters more than just a little.
"That's just Niall." Zayn says
Harry doesn't know what 'that's just Niall' means. That's just Niall, Louis's long-term boyfriend? Or exactly what is he supposed to think? He'd really wish if it wasn't that, though. He really likes Louis
"Go up to him," Zayn continues, "He won't show it, but he'd like that."
Okay. Sure, Harry can do that. Go up to Louis and make a fool out of himself. It's not the first time he's done it anyways, making a fool out of himself. So when he finds himself standing inches away from Louis, he things he may begin to feel that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach again. But Louis looks up eyes bright and smiles toothily, cheeks flushed a bright red from the alcohol.
It's involuntary, Harry goes flush in the face, stomach, and neck; he feels his toes curl in his sneakers
"I, um," He says, staring at Louis's mouth. Maybe he's thinking about chocolates, and hot kisses, and melting chocolate, and how maybe Louis has high expectations and he starts to worry
"Thought you'd never show up," Louis grins and Harry doesn't really think, he just leans in for a kiss that bows Louis's back and brings their hips flush and tight. Louis gasps, arms looping around Harry's neck and tightening, while Harry pulls him in with with hot palms closer against him.
Harry's mouth opens, tongue skirting, biting softly in a way that makes Louis ache. "You," Louis says, pushing back and gasping, the quirky curl of her upper lip shoots out a strange angle. "Need to get a hold of yourself."
"You're not exactly making it easy," Harry says vaguely, huffing a laugh and kissing Louis.
"We never chose anything at all," Louis breathes. "Things just happen."