you'll know it's just for you (2/4). harry/louis.

Jun 23, 2012 14:42

parts: 1, 3, 4

(see header post for summary and details)



+

The tour had only been going on for a matter of days thus far and it was already going by in a blur for Harry.  Even if the band was trying to keep things as normal as possible when on stage, playing up the “bromance” for the crowds as the fans tended to eat it up like candy, his heart ached every time he caught Louis’ eye from across the stage.  They had too many duets on this album, too many parts where they were singing together, and he was starting to regret it, starting to regret how hard they’d pushed to get these duets in the first place.  They were standing together far too often now to be on such terrible terms with each other.

Every so often, he would feel Louis next to him, almost be able to swear that he could feel his fingers curling around Harry’s ever so slightly - but it was always a phantom touch and nothing more than that, always leaving Harry with a raw feeling in his gut.

They’d just finished off their encore performance and the energy around them was thick and lively and nothing less than a sheer, impossibly high adrenaline rush.  It amazed him, really, how no matter how many performances they did, no matter how many shows they performed…the feeling never went away.  It never even faded.

Niall clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder before bouncing over toward Niall, and Harry could see Louis up ahead, taking out his earpiece and taking a swig from his water bottle.  Had the circumstances between the two of them been different, had this been a few months ago, they’d already be a tangle of limbs and lips, pressing each other back against the wall of their dressing room and kissing the living daylights out of each other.

The gutted feeling in his stomach returned.

Louis’ eyes landed on Harry’s, and the corner of Harry’s lips tugged into a smile like acting on a reflex.  He took a few steps toward him, bumping his shoulder against his…ex-boyfriend.  He really hated that term, refused to ever even think about it like that.

“Think my Niall impression is improving any?” he asked, looking over at Louis hopefully, raising his eyebrows.  It may have been a pathetic attempt at small talk, but at least it was something.

Louis, much to his relief, smiled back at him - weakly, a small smile…but a smile.  “You wish, Styles,” he told him, and Harry could only grin in response, his heart lifting a little and fluttering.

“I’m getting there,” he told him through a laugh.  It died down after a moment (after all, it’d only really been one-sided to begin with) and Harry took a few moments to just look at Louis.  To really look at him like he hadn’t in a long time.  He took in the lines of his jaw and the way his button-down was loose and yet still clung to his skin.  He looked at his long eyelashes, the way his hair was slightly matted down…it was in the moments like this, little stolen moments that were hardly moments at all, that Harry felt as if he could forget everything else.  It was like a world where Eleanor didn’t exist, where Matt didn’t exist…where it was just Louis and Harry, the way it always had been.

The way it was always supposed to be.

His stomach twisted and he realized he was beginning to feel stupid.  Stupid for letting anything ever happen with Matt (not that anything had really happened all that much to begin with), stupid for walking away from Louis like he had.  All of it was stupid.  Giving up this was stupid.

Louis’ eyes wandered over Harry, blue eyes meeting green after a few moments, and Louis cleared his throat.  “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer, Haz,” he teased him, his voice quiet.

Harry’s heart twisted in his chest, and he opened his mouth to speak, to tease him back, to fall back into some pattern of familiarity with each other.  But before he had the chance, Liam’s arm was falling over his shoulder - his other arm falling around Louis’ - and he was leading them toward the back doors of the arena.

Harry leaned back ever so slightly, just enough to see that Louis had leaned back as well, their eyes meeting each other from behind Liam’s frame.  Louis smiled, and the simple sight of it made Harry smile right back at him.

The double doors pushed open and they walked into the Tennessee air, the fans around them screaming, arms waving out to grab them as their security guided them toward the SUV.  They were spending the night at a hotel in Nashville tonight, hitting the road once more some time tomorrow to head south, toward Florida or Georgia or one of those states by the ocean (all Harry knew was that if it was Florida that they were going to, it wasn’t Orlando and he wouldn’t be getting to go to Disney World - which he and Niall were still griping about), so tonight they didn’t have to use the tour bus.

Harry flashed a dopey smile toward one of the girls beaming back at him with bright eyes, and he could only catch a few of her words before he heard the name Louis thrown into the mix, and he found himself taking a step closer to hear her clearly.  “What was that?”

The girl seemed shocked that he’d actually spoken back to her, and she opened and closed her mouth a few times as if forgetting all of her words entirely.  The girl next to her slapped her, shaking her out of her stupor, and the girl quickly nodded.  “C-can I get a picture of you and Louis?” she asked.

“Not of me?” Liam chimed in, shooting the girl a mock-offended look before it quickly grew into a smile and he dropped his arms from around the two boys, loping over toward Zayn and wrapping his arms around him from behind, causing the other boy to jolt in surprise.

Harry kept his eyes on the girl before looking over at Louis, raising his eyebrows questioningly.  “A picture, Tommo?”

Louis tilted his head back as if it was a burden, his face quickly relaxing into an easy grin and he nodded.  “I guess,” he teased, making his voice exasperated, before moving over to Harry and dropping an arm around Harry’s shoulder.  The feeling of it was comfortable and right, like wrapping up in a familiar childhood blanket after so much time away from it.

With shaky hands, the girl captured the picture on her phone and flashed them a grateful smile, barely being able to get out a “thank you” before the two of them were being pushed closer toward the SUV and further away from her and the rest of the crowd.

They were ushered into the vehicle, the two of them sliding in next to one another, and Harry slid up right next to him, their thighs pressed against one another.  He looked over at Louis, almost acting as if all of it were a test, waiting to see if Louis flinched or eased away from him.  But he didn’t.  Instead, he met Harry’s gaze and smiled, almost shyly, before the SUV was pulling away from the crowd and out onto the main street.

Harry sat back against the seat, and he felt more exhilarated now than he had even when they’d been on stage.  Tonight had told him something, something big.  He and Louis stood a chance at gaining back their friendship, at maybe picking back up what they’d lost…well, maybe not all of it.  Since there was still the Eleanor factor.  And, more recently, the Matt factor.  But if they could even go back to being friends, Harry knew that he would sleep better at night.

“Your earpiece,” Louis’ voice shook Harry out of his trance, and the curly-haired boy turned to look at him questioningly.

“What?”

Louis shook his head, reaching forward.  Harry felt a shiver rip through his spine at the contact of Louis’ fingers curling slightly into his hair, tickling around his ear.  A few seconds later, he pulled his hand away, holding Harry’s earpiece between his fingertips.  “You always forget to take this out, you know,” he told him with a light laugh, passing it into Harry’s hand.

Harry blushed, thinking back to all the other times that Louis had taken the earpiece from him after Harry had forgotten it - once, it had been when they were scrambling out of their clothes in the dressing room…another time, it had been after they’d already gotten back to their flat and Louis’ lips had been working their way up Harry’s neck when they’d caught sight of it and he’d let out a chuckle against his boyfriend’s skin.  “What would you do without me, Haz?” he’d asked him, amused.

Harry hadn’t been able to answer the question, because he honestly, truthfully, didn’t know the answer.  He didn’t know what he’d do without Louis.  He felt like he didn’t even know who he was without Louis most of the time.

“Thanks,” Harry managed out sheepishly, taking the earpiece away from Louis and, not really knowing what else to do with it, sitting it at the top of the center console in the front seat.

They were quiet after that, Liam and Niall getting into some debate in the backseat about whether or not they should do a joint TwitCam when they got back to the hotel - which, in turn, became a round of teasing Zayn for still not being very savvy at knowing how to work the website.

Harry listened to them for a few moments, the conversation providing a good distraction from his own thoughts, but Louis’ voice dragged him away from them shortly after.

“Do you remember the last time we stayed in Nashville?”

Harry swallowed down the bowling ball that was already beginning to settle in his throat, looking back at Harry and cracking a small smile.  “Poker with pillow mints,” he replied, leaving the word “strip” out of the beginning of his response.  Louis had beat him - majorly - but Harry hadn’t cared in the slightest.  He’d sat in front of Louis stark naked save his socks proudly, grinning wildly at the furious blush that was appearing on Louis’ cheeks even though he could tell how badly he was trying to fight it.

Louis nodded, chewing down on his lip for a second, rolling it between his teeth before releasing it, Harry’s eyes never leaving the sight.  “You were really shit at poker,” he said with a weak laugh.

“Still am,” Harry replied with a shrug.

Louis’ eyes remained frozen on him after that, and Harry briefly wondered if Louis was going to ask him if he wanted a rematch - in fact, he felt like he was hoping Louis was going to ask him that…and the thought of it scared him.

If Louis was going to ask, however, he never did manage to get his question out - the truck pulling into the underground parking lot of the hotel and Zayn moving to open the door and hop out, the rest of the guys following suit.

Harry went out first, Louis coming up behind him, and Harry’s head turned over his shoulder to look at him.  Their eyes met again, and his heart flipped pathetically.

He was a goner for Louis Tomlinson.  He always had been.

From out of the corner of his eye, he could see Niall and Liam nudging one another, sharing a look, and it dragged Harry’s eyes away from Louis to settle on them instead - but he could still feel Louis’ eyes on him, and it made him feel warmer than he already did.

They were led to the double doors leading into the underground level of the hotel, and he heard the voice before he saw the face.

“Louis!”

Her.

+

Louis had forgotten, if he were being quite honest.  He’d forgotten that this was the Nashville leg of the tour, he’d forgotten what would happen at the Nashville leg of the tour.  And right now, he was really wishing that none of this had happened at all.

Tonight was his chance - the chance he’d told Zayn he wasn’t going to take in the first place.  He and Harry could go back to their room, they could whip out a deck of cards…Louis could pin Harry beneath him and wipe the name Matt out of Harry’s memory over and over again, replace every Matt with Lou, just the way it was supposed to be.

But instead, he had Eleanor coming up to him and roping an arm around his waist, a paparazzi photographer waiting in the wings conveniently being able to snap a picture of them just as Eleanor turned to look at the camera without really looking at the camera - it was a skill they were both quite trained in by this point.

Harry, from ahead of him, looked like the fox from The Fox and the Hound when his owner dumps him off at the side of the road and drives away from him (a scene that Harry teared up at every time), his brows furrowed and his face fallen slightly.  It made Louis sick to his stomach, and he was already coming up with ways to try and make it up to him, almost like they were back to the way things used to be - back to old times.

But then, not even a few seconds later, he saw a flash of blond hair on a build that didn’t even come close to remotely resembling Niall’s and the paparazzi photographer was snapping away with his camera, capturing the moment of Harry’s boyfriend Matt meeting up with him at the hotel.

…right.

Louis might have forgotten about that part, too.

+

“Does sign language actually count as a language?”

Louis was laying on his back, sprawled out on the couch with his head resting on Harry’s shoulder and his fingers wound and tangled tightly around the other boy’s.  It was a few weeks after the X Factor had ended, their lives all quickly turning into blurs of press conferences, interviews, and recordings.  This was one of the rare moments they’d actually gotten some down time, and they were fully taking advantage of it.

“Obviously,” Harry replied with a small smile.  “You mark it down on tests and everything.  It’s another language to communicate with people apart from English so…yeah, it counts.”

Louis nodded his head, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before looking back at Harry with a small smile tracing his lips.  He nudged his head against Harry’s cheek.  “Teach me something,” he murmured.

Harry was still and quiet for a few moments before untangling his fingers from where they were wrapped around Louis’ and curling them in to make a fist.  He lifted his thumb, giving Louis a thumbs up and turning back to look at him.  “There.”

Louis sat up, scoffing a little.  “I didn’t mean teach me a sign language symbol that everyone on the planet already knows, Haz,” he told him knowingly, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s and letting out a laugh.

“Everyone who knows it knows it as being a way to tell someone that they did a good job,” Harry replied, “but it has another meaning.  It has a lot of meanings, actually, but one in particular.”

Louis’ intrigue grew, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back at Harry expectantly.  “What’s that?” he asked.

There was a flush on Harry’s cheeks and he was quiet at first, almost like he was nervous to even get the words out.  He looked down at his thumb, tongue poking out to lick his lips before he looked back over at Louis and met his gaze.  “I love you,” he said honestly.

At first, Louis didn’t think he’d heard him right.  Or maybe he had heard him right and it just wasn’t sinking in just yet.  Or maybe he just needed to calm down.  Harry wasn’t telling him anything…he was just telling him what something meant in sign language.  But Harry was still looking at him, and his thumb was still up, and Louis could feel the butterflies in his stomach somehow multiplying in size.

The door to the flat opened up at that point, neither of them bothering to look to see who it was but knowing it was Niall as soon as they heard his voice.

“If you’re planning your next attack on Paul without my assistance, I am brutally offended, gentlemen.”

“They wouldn’t dream of it,” Zayn chimed in, following him into the apartment.

Louis’ eyes stayed focused on Harry’s, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at his own hand, curling his fingers into his fist.

And then he was giving Harry a thumbs up right back.

+

Louis was moping.  That much was obvious.  Right now, he was sitting with his back against his headboard in his hotel room in Nashville, staring down at the thumbs up he’d just made.  After that afternoon over two years ago, the thumbs up had become their very own secret language - although he was fairly certain that the entire fandom was onto it by now, but he didn’t care.

Sometimes, when he’d be on stage with Harry nowadays, he would find himself moving to make the gesture once more, to tell Harry that he was there, that he still loved him - loved him so much it physically fucking hurt, even - but he could never bring himself to execute.  Harry wasn’t his anymore, not really.  He was Matt’s.

“You’re sulking,” Eleanor observed.  She was sitting perched at the top of the desk in the corner, legs stretched out, feet resting at the foot of the bed in front of her.  She was typing something into her phone, chewing on a piece of gum and laughing at whatever text message she’d just read.

“He most certainly is,” Liam replied, bumping his shoulder against Louis’.  The two of them were sitting side by side, watching (but not really watching) some program on the television.

Louis was quick to protest, shaking his head.  “I am not sulki-”

“You’re sulking,” they both cut him off, voices laced together in unison.

He bit down on his lip, tilting his head back and letting out a pathetic groan.  “Do you think they’re doing anything?” he asked.

“I’d rather not find out that one for myself,” Liam replied, his voice deadpanned.  “I knew far too much about what you and Harry were doing in your spare time in hotels, I don’t need-”

“Maybe they’re just watching a movie,” Eleanor cut Liam off, lifting her small shoulders in a shrug.

Niall - the only one who was actually trying to watch the film - looked up at Eleanor from where he was splayed out at the foot of Louis’ bed.  “No offense, El, but why are you still here?”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, looking down at her phone for a moment before batting her eyes back over toward the boys on the bed.  “Obviously, I’m being a supportive girlfriend for my boyfriend and his boyfriend in his time of need,” she teased.  She looked down at her phone, not looking back at them as she carried on.  “I felt like staying in tonight,” she said.  “And my friend who I came here with met some guy at a club earlier and unfortunately they’ve taken our room hostage.”

Niall nodded, accepting her answer before a cheeky smile crossed his face.  “One time, when we were playing a show in Paris, Haz and Lou-”

Louis grabbed a pillow that was wedged under his arm, chucking it at Niall and hitting him square in the face, shutting him up on instant.

“I needed a pillow, thank you,” he declared, nestling it under him and resting his head back down, turning his attention back toward the show.

Liam’s phone chirped from next to him, and he was speaking up a few seconds later.  “Interview with 1075 The River tomorrow morning,” he declared.  “In case any of you lot had forgotten, I got a reminder,” he waved his phone at the rest of them, showing the evidence.

Louis sunk a little lower, flopping onto his back.  He knew that the pictures of Matt and Harry had surely hit the internet by now, which meant that - undoubtedly, even - they’d be asked about it in tomorrow morning’s interview.

And that was something he just didn’t want to think about right now.

+

“Doesn’t this ever get tiring?” Matt asked, looking over at Harry, who was sitting up against the headboard of his bed in a much similar manner to the one belonging to a boy down the hall from him.  “Living out of hotels and tour buses and suitcases?”

Harry shrugged.  “It has its moments,” he said.  “Sometimes, it’s unbearable…not being at home or being around anyone but…the boys are my family,” he said.  “So it’s really just like one enormous family vacation.”

“I can’t imagine doing this day in and day out,” he said, clicking open a tab in his web browser and flashing a playful smile toward Harry.  “We’re on the cover of Perez Hilton,” he noted cheerily.

Harry didn’t really bother to lean forward much to see the picture, but was able to see a shot of them hugging from earlier tonight, Perez having drawn a heart with an arrow coming out of it in the corner of the picture.

Matt closed the lid to the laptop, moving over until he was next to Harry on the bed, pressing his lips to his cheek.  “Unless Zayn comes back in here tonight, I’m pretty sure we have the room to ourselves…” he hummed.

Harry knew that Zayn wouldn’t come back to the room tonight.  Zayn was going to crash in Louis’ room alongside Niall and Liam.  That was just the way they did things.  They all but rented out an entire floor of hotel rooms and only used one or two each stay.

Usually, however, it was Harry and Louis who had a room to themselves…this was foreign.  New.  Weird.  Maybe not even welcome.

Harry nodded, looking back at Matt and giving him a small smile, allowing Matt to pull him in for a kiss.  This was really as far as they’d gotten, save for a quick hand job or blow job here and there.  Other than that, they hadn’t gone much farther - but Harry could tell that Matt wanted to.  He could tell by the way he tugged at his shirt or gripped onto his hips closer than normal.

Matt’s hand slipped under his shirt, a warm, rough hand on his bare skin, and Harry found himself inching away like a reflex.

Matt sighed.  “Red light?” he asked, his tone a little exasperated.  “Yellow?”  He could hear the hopeful tone in his voice that was waiting for Harry to reply with “green.”

But Harry didn’t.  He bit down on his lip and fiddled with a thread on the bedspread.  “I’m…saving myself,” he found himself blurting out, and he felt like a complete and utter idiot as soon as he said it.

“You’re a…” Matt drifted off.  “But you’re in a band, and you’ve never…?”

Harry shook his head, giving him a sheepish shrug.  Why not dig himself in deeper, right?  “Virgin, I’m afraid,” he replied, looking back at Matt.  “Is that…a deal breaker?  I know we’ve never really, like…discussed it or anything.”

Matt was quick to shake his head.  “Of course it’s not,” he said, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips.  “I know you’re younger than the rest of the guys anyway, it’s perfectly normal.”  He backed away, getting up off of the bed and heading toward the restroom.  “Whenever you’re ready,” he assured him.

Harry watched him leave, a knot tight in his stomach.  He flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.  He’d lied.  Oh, how he’d lied.

In fact, there was a lot that he’d…not exactly been one-hundred percent honest with Matt about.  But he didn’t want to think about why he wasn’t being honest, why he was keeping things - important things - away from him.

But in the end, deep down, he knew why.

It was for Louis.

It was always for Louis.

+

“So, Harry, this is your first real relationship since coming out earlier this year, right?” Lexi, the radio host, asked, turning to look at Harry and giving him an expectant smile.  “We all saw the pictures online last night and this morning, and you two look absolutely adorable together.”

Harry smiled a little sheepishly, and Louis bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from releasing a groan or showing a grimace, keeping mind of the camera crew that was in the room with them.  “Yes, I suppose,” he replied with a small shrug.  “It’s an interesting feeling.  To be out and public with someone.”

A knife, Louis decided.  That was what this felt like.  A knife in his stomach, being twisted with every word.  And all of it was his fault.  He could have prevented all of this, if he’d just spoken up before it was too late.

“And Matt and Eleanor are both here right now,” Lexi carried on.  At the mention of the name Eleanor, Louis knew it was his cue to look up and enter the conversation.  He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, and he simply nodded, giving Lexi the encouragement to continue speaking.  “Have the two of them spent any time together?” she asked.

Louis’ hand wrapped around his neck, fingers toying with his short locks of sandy hair, and he shrugged slightly.  “I’m not sure, really,” he admitted.

“I think Matty’s been a little too overwhelmed by everything else going on right now to really focus on going out and about and bonding with anyone,” Harry answered, and Louis’ gaze all but flew toward Harry.

“Matty?” he asked.

Harry blinked, as if he didn’t understand the question.  “Yes?”

Louis stiffened, swallowing down the lump in his throat before coughing to clear his throat even though it really didn’t need clearing in the first place.  “It’s just news to me, is all,” he said with a shrug.  “That you have a nickname for him and whatnot.”

“You call Eleanor El,” Harry tossed back at him.

“Anyway,” Liam quickly spoke up before the conversation got any more developed than it already had.  “We’ve been teasing them quite relentlessly about going on a double date,” he said with a shrug, and Louis would have slammed his foot straight into Liam’s knee from under the table right now if he could have reached.  “Lou and El have gone on doubles with me and Danielle before, and I think it’s a bit of a tradition, you know?”

Harry rubbed his lips together, fingertip tucking under the red bracelet on his wrist and Louis’ heart began to hammer as he realized it was his Leeds bracelet - even after all that they’d been through, Harry still hadn’t taken off his Leeds bracelet.  He still played with his Leeds bracelet, even, which had always been his nervous habit in interviewers whenever they’d get pressed to speak up about Larry Stylinson.

His eyes shifted down to his own Leeds bracelet, and he smiled softly to himself.

“-so what do you say, boys?  Sound like a good idea?’

Louis was dragged out of his stupor, looking back at Lexi with a confused expression furrowed on his face.

“What?” Harry asked, equally confused.

“The double date,” Niall answered for Lexi.  “It was Liam’s idea, really, but Lexi said that 1075 would even make reservations for you tonight.  Since we’re not leaving for Atlanta until tomorrow and all…no day but today and all that?”

Louis and Harry shared a look so fleeting that it was almost as if it hadn’t even happened at all, before they both turned to look back at Lexi.  Harry swallowed down the knot in his throat, and it was Louis who wound up speaking.  “All right,” he said with a shrug.  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Harry’s head perked up, looking over at Louis like he couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to it.  But he didn’t say a word.  He just nodded, picking at his Leeds bracelet while three seats away from him, Louis was doing the exact same thing.

+

“You’ll thank me later,” Liam had assured Louis after he’d received several smacks once the interview had ended.  Louis thought otherwise - in fact, he was sure it was going to be otherwise.

He caught Harry’s eye as they got back into the SUV, Harry looking at him curiously.  “Is this…going to be weird?” he asked, sounding nervous.

Louis shrugged, acting like none of this was a big deal to him when in actuality it was a huge deal.  “It just kinda seems like an inevitability,” he said.  “The ex-boyfriend meeting-”

“I hate that term,” Harry cut him off, and Louis fell silent, his heart sinking in his stomach because he knew Harry hated that term.

He nodded a little rigidly.  “The old meeting the new,” he corrected himself.

“Too bad the new doesn’t even know that an old exists,” Zayn piped up, poking his head over to their seat from where he was seated behind them.

Louis’ eyebrows rose, looking between Harry and Zayn before settling his gaze on Harry.  “You’re having me on, right?”

Harry was quiet, and Louis scoffed.  “He doesn’t know?”

“As far as Matty boy’s concerned, Harry’s as pure as a daisy field,” Zayn carried on, slapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder only to have Harry smack it away a second later.

“I am never confiding in you ever again,” he told him, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, scowling slightly.

Louis sat back a little.  “So…Matt knows nothing about us or about any of it…”

Harry shrugged, almost standoffishly, looking away and turning his gaze to look out the window instead.  “It’s not like you were all bright eyed and bushy tailed and public about us to anyone either, you know.”

“Eleanor at least knows,” Louis spat.  “And she’s not even-”

“Can you guys get into this when we’re not all sitting here with you?” Liam groaned, head falling back against the headrest as he reached for his headphones and crooked them into his ears.

“You guys should just stop fighting all together,” Niall grumbled, slumping back into his seat.  Zayn patted him on the back and Niall simply sighed.  “I hate anyone fighting.  Especially you two.”

“Look what you two did, you upset the baby,” Zayn stage whispered, reaching forward to cover Niall’s ears with his hands.  “You are tearing this family apart,” he stressed out each word like a frustrated - albeit good jested - whisper.

Louis and Harry both whipped back around, facing forward with their arms defensively crossed over their chests.  “Shut up, Zayn,” they muttered in unison, their voices in perfect harmony.

+

(part three)

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