Breaking Point (2/?)
Pairing: Louis/Harry
Characters: All 5 boys + a few others
Rating: NC-17 for language and sex
Summary: Harry's been in love with Louis for as long as he can remember - and his night terrors and painful memories aren't letting him forget. Especially not when Louis' getting married and he's asked Harry to be his Best Man.
The next morning Harry woke up to the same old nightmares of screaming through blood and tears for Louis to save him from a horrible fate worse than death, suspended in the fear and pain of dying until he could wake himself up. This time his dreams had guest appearances from the skin-tight black dress that belonged to Louis’ future wife bursting into flames and emerging from the embers a white wedding gown, along with the gold band that floated from her finger and began to expand and choke Harry as he called for Louis to save him. But he never did, he never came, and Harry would wake up with the sound of Louis’ last words to him before he left for America.
“I can never live a normal life with you, Harry!” The words rang in his ears one more time before he shook the voice from his head and threw the covers off himself. He slumped to the kitchen, still trying to go through the details of his nightmare; the incredibly white wedding dress, the flames he could see himself in all bloody and broken, the ring choking him, Louis’ standing by watching and waiting for Harry to be gone. He was terrified by how increasingly vivid they were becoming.
“Morning sunshine!” he heard from the farthest corner of his kitchen and jumped, turning to see Niall sitting on his counter eating a bag of crisps that Harry was sure had been out of date for several months.
“Fuck Niall, you scared me!” he sighed, clutching at his chest over his pounding heart. “And it’s like, 3pm, I slept all day.” He turned back to his fridge to see that he really needed to go shopping now that he was back. There were a lot of things he needed to do now that he was back. See about some form of counselling for a start. He smiled amusedly at the idea of himself lying on a chaise longue telling a complete stranger that he was madly in love with his best friend who was getting married to a girl who had no idea about their past. Then the realisation of how pathetic that was sunk in and he sobered up.
“These are the only edible thing I could find in this bloody kip!” Niall spat as he spoke, shoving his hand back into the packet to stuff more into his mouth. Harry rolled his eyes, slamming an empty cupboard behind him.
“So you ate my only food that I’m almost sure is gone off?” Niall nodded, undeterred by Harry’s glare and revelation, which lead him to believe that the Irish boy already knew they weren’t safe to eat, but went for it anyway.
“Don’t worry though, Liam and Zayn should be back any minute. They went down to the shop to get you some food for the week. They thought that maybe you’d be taking off again after the wedding on Sunday?” Harry heard the question, but he wasn’t sure how to answer it yet. Was he going to leave again? Was he going to give up everything again for several months because it was the only way he could cope? If running away to another continent and spending thousands of your hard earned money on drink and drugs is what you could call coping? Something told Harry that the shrink he’d envisioned himself seeing would say it wasn’t.
“I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere for a while, man.” Harry smiled at the way his friend’s face lit up. He forgot how much he missed Niall’s positivity and openness; the way he never made an attempt to hide how he was feeling, even if it meant he got himself in trouble. “I think I need to be with you guys for a while?” he stood with his back leaning against the island in the centre of his kitchen, his arms folded against his bare chest. “I’ve just really missed all of you. I felt like I wasn’t only leaving all that behind, I was leaving you behind. And most of the time I was too out of it to answer Liam’s crazy amount of calls or reply to Zayn’s texts or even you, Niall.” He let out an exasperated breath. “You knew to leave me alone. You knew that I needed to leave behind everything associated with him. And when you called me last month and we fought because you were so worried and I was such a dick and I hung up on you...” he trailed off, guilt knotting in his stomach. “I was so drunk and angry and scared and I am so sorry, Niall!” Harry pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, willing the tears to stay back. He couldn’t have himself crying now in front of the boy who looked at him with such love and sympathy and that look that only Niall could give. The one that told Harry that he was going to be there for him regardless of how many phonecalls and texts he ignores or tears he sheds. “I am so sorry for abandoning all of you. I didn’t know what else to do. Everything here just reminded me too much of him and how things ended and-” Harry cut off to swallow the lump in his throat. “And what he said about never being able to live a normal life with me... I just couldn’t do it, man.” It was then that Niall hopped down from his perch on the counter top and closed the gap between them, encasing Harry in the safety and comfort of his arms. Harry hesitantly hugged back, folding his arms around Niall’s waist for so long that they both lost track of time, the exchange never once became awkward, because this was what they all were to each other, a support system.
It was only some time later when Liam and Zayn walked into the room with bags in their arms and started to unpack, as though the bonding moment between their friends wasn’t happening, that they broke apart and turned to the boys who were emptying bags of food and putting them away.
“Good afternoon.” Liam greeted without turning to face them, putting a tin of beans into the cupboard. Then the smell hit them and both Niall and Harry ran to where Zayn was dishing out food from Harry’s favourite Indian take-away down the street. After 5 years, they’d all learned near enough every detail of each other’s lives, so when Zayn dunked a tin container of coconut curry chicken onto a plate, Harry grabbed Zayn’s head and planted a big, sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. Niall laughed while the older boy slapped Harry’s hand away playfully, a grin hiding behind a feigned expression of annoyance.
Once they’d all sat down at the table for their dinner, they got into the old habit of shouting over each other, but Harry soon realised that there was very little reason to shout, because the one they usually had to yell over to be heard wasn’t here. He was with his soon-to-be-wife in their apartment and Harry suddenly lost his appetite. Liam noticed and handed him his poppadoms, knowing Harry could never resist them no matter how full he was and the younger boy took them gratefully with a smile that wasn’t as forced as he’d have expected it to be.
Throughout the rest of the meal, Harry found himself looking around the table with a familiar fondness at his best friends who had taken time out of their very busy day of taking over some of the Best Man duties that Harry had accidentally slept through to bring him food and keep him company when he needed it most. And for the first time in a very long time, he felt genuine happiness deep down within his chest. It was dull and fragile, but it was there.
When Niall finally asked if Harry was ready to go for their fitting, he nodded with enthusiasm, because every time they’ve ever had a fitting, it had ended with one or more of them running around in underwear, and sometimes even less, with their stomachs in agony from laughing so hard. So when they got there and Louis was standing inside wearing only a pair of boxers, any excitement Harry felt was expelled from him in record time. The sight of him, his impossibly even tan that Harry had inspected on several occasions to make sure it were real, his defined muscles that he would run the tips of his fingers along as they lay together, his hipbones that he remembered kissing to make the older boy shudder beneath him, lean legs that used to wrap around Harry’s waist on heated nights in bunk beds. He wanted to turn and run, but the hand that settled between his shoulder blades kept him where he was, and he turned to meet dark features and an even darker look of something else that Harry couldn’t quite place. Was it pity, was it frustration? No. It was a mix of the two, but Zayn’s frustration wasn’t aimed at Harry, but at the boy who had finally noticed their arrival and made his way toward them, pulling a shirt around his shoulders. It seemed Niall wasn’t the only one who didn’t agree with this union.
“You’re late!” He smiled, hugging Liam, then Zayn, then Niall before pausing in front of Harry, their eyes searching each other for so long that the others had made their way to the tailor and he had begun to talk to them about their clothes. “I think you and I need to talk.” It was more a demand than a question, and because Harry could never say no to him, he nodded and let Louis take him by the hand to a dressing room at the back of the store. As they passed their friends, they all flashed him confused and bewildered looks that he couldn’t answer. Louis dragged him into the confined space and locked the door behind them. Harry backed himself up against the mirror, as far from Louis’ still half-naked body as he physically could. “I think…I mean to say that I-“ he stopped himself and began biting at his nails that Harry could see were already bitten down to almost nothing, something he only did when he was stressed. Because Harry couldn’t relieve him of this stress the way he used to - with slow dotted kisses down an exposed neck and naked torso - he instead took Louis’ hand and pulled it from his lips, running his thumb over the curve of the older boy’s wrist.
“Just say what you want to say, Louis.” It was the first time he’d said his name since their last fight and with it he shuddered, making Louis’ heart ache because that was his fault, his doing, his cold words all those months ago that caused his pain. “I’m not going anywhere.” And Louis believed him, because no matter how hard Harry tried, he would always come back to the boy with the eyes like none he’d ever seen. Because in those eyes he saw everything. Nothing was hidden from him, all of his fears and insecurities were laid out there because Harry was the only one who knew the soul of him. Not the front he put up for the world, not the laughter and the jokes and the immaturity. True, they were all there, but underneath it all was unhealed wounds that gaped and spilled over with feelings he could never articulate. Harry saw it all. He loved it all; every broken, exquisite part of him. He loved the very bones of him.
“I need you here, Harry. I need you to hold me together because I’m so nervous that I’ve felt nauseous for the last 3 weeks straight! Harry flinched, but kept his composure for the sake of the desperate boy in front of him, whose hand he still held in his own. “And because I need you to know why I’ve asked you to do this.” Harry nodded, waiting for him to go one. Because there was literally nothing else he could do with the way his skin felt at the touch. “I need you here because you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Through everything, you’ve been there by my side. From the first time we met in that fucking toilet,” they both gave a small chuckle, remembering back to how easy it’d been then. When they clicked right away and everything was new and there were no scars left behind from years of secrets and lies and love. “I knew you were something special. The light that you have, it touches people Harry. I need that light there by my side when I take this leap. And I know it’s selfish of me, I know it is! And if you want to leave right now I won’t stop you because I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of this.” His free hand flung out behind him and fell back to his side in one swooping motion. “Not you being here, not the boys being here - because I’m not stupid, I know they’re not happy -, not this big fuss that silly woman is making over her dress and the flowers and everything else that could possibly go wrong! I think she’s even made an escape plan if there’s a meteor shower or something, I don’t know!” Harry’s heart sank at the lightness of how he spoke about her, remembering how Louis used to sound that way when talking about him. “My point is you’re my best friend, Harry. I haven’t treated you like that for a very long time. And I’m sorry.” This time Louis lifted his other hand to cup his and Harry’s between them and ducked his head. “I’m begging you to please stay here, because I’m not sure if I can do it without you?” A million different ways of saying no flashed through Harry’s mind in the seconds it took him to say,
“Of course.” He hated himself for the effect he let Louis have over him. The older boy’s lip trembled and he swung his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry held back a pained sob as he felt the soft skin of Louis’ exposed torso pressed so hard against him that he could feel the rhythm of both their hearts in sync. He had to push away because every bone in his body was turning to mush and every muscle screamed at him to pull back, the fire that raced through him burning hotter than he remembered. It was as though flames licked at him where skin met skin and trying to keep himself together, he smiled and watched Louis’ face light up. “Let’s get fitted.”
For a long time that day, it was an internal battle between anger at Louis for making him do this, searing depression and inexplicable joy to have all 5 of them together again, pissing off the tailor by strutting around in next to nothing. Louis was so giddy that he pushed Liam off the pedestal in the playful way they had always fought and he landed on top of Niall who was trying to master the art of tying a tie. Meanwhile Zayn and Harry had hijacked the stereo in the back of the closed down shop and had plugged in Harry’s iPod and were arguing over whether to put on Yeah x3 by Chris Brown or Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns ‘n’ Roses next, shoving each other into a dance-off as the decider.
Once they were all suited up, they emerged from different hiding places and peered around the circle they’d formed to get a good look at one another. Louis, being the joker he is, decided to incorporate their own trademark outfits into their suits for the wedding. He wore a black tuxedo with a white shirt and beneath the jacket were red suspenders. Niall wore a white polo shirt with a red tie. Liam wore a red and white chequered shirt under his black tux with a black tie. Harry wore his token bowtie in red. Zayn was decked out with a red shirt with black buttons. They all wore the same black jacket and trousers. Once they’d all gotten a good look at one another, they burst out laughing thinking of how sick and tired they’d become of these exact looks over the years.
“Awh man, Louis I can’t tell you how much I hate you for this!” Zayn joked, checking himself over in a mirror.
“Oh come on, it’s funny!” Louis replied, joining his friend in front of the mirror, both pushing each other for more room to ogle over themselves.
“How come Harry gets to wear comfy shoes and we have to wear these fuckin’ things?!” Niall complained, pointing at Harry’s feet that were covered by a pair of brand new white Converse. Niall’s eyes were back to looking at Liam who was giggling at the mess the blonde had made of his tie and his objection to the slick black shoes that everyone but Harry wore.
“Because he’s Best Man and his fancy pants attire has to look at least a little bit different to everyone else’s.” Louis said, making his way over to Harry and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Right, Best Man?”
“Shut up, you idiot.” Harry teased light-heartedly and pushed his arm away from his shoulder. Next thing, Louis pulled him closer and linked both his hands across Harry’s chest, holding him in a tight embrace. They struggled against one another playfully, with laughter that came from them and Niall filling the room. Liam and Zayn exchanged a hesitant glance, because it seemed that whatever was said in that dressing room was enough to cure Harry of his love or lust or depression or whatever it was he had fallen into over Louis, and for the first time in a very long time, they seemed back to normal. And neither Liam nor Zayn believed it for a second.