Roll With It (Harry/Louis)
Title: Roll With It
Rating: R
Pairing Harry/Louis
Words: ~4,000
Summary: 1dkinkmeme: Louis likes to show off Harry in public... [GIF heavy]
Disclaimer: Fiction, not getting paid, don't know or own the people.
As many great things did for the boys of One Direction, Harry and Louis’ relationship started on the X-Factor. With X-Factor came not only the formation and development of One Direction and music criticism but non-stop rolling cameras, watching eyes, and public acknowledgement. It was a basic cable show, so their faces were in millions of households on a weekly basis.
Harry didn’t think about that fact too much unless they were performing on stage. In the house and recording the online video diaries, it didn’t seem to register to him that the entire world would be watching him on YouTube the following morning (which explains why he didn’t care when the producers told him they wanted to do a segment about his love for nudity. “Imply to the planet that I’m naked? Sure.”).
On the contrary, Louis thought about it - a lot. He was always aware that some stranger somewhere was or would be watching. He slowly came to realize that Harry was oblivious and it made him excited because…he could have fun with that. Harry trusted him and he was going to take advantage of it; not abuse it but simply use it. What’s the point of having car keys if there’s no car?
i.
It starts easy. Louis takes the route of “approaching a territorial dog;” he doesn’t want to be bitten nor does he want it to run away to alert its master.
He and Harry are sitting backstage for a short interview about the week’s rehearsal and upcoming performance. He lays his arm on the back of the couch, comfortably pressed against Harry’s shoulder blades, and hand hanging near his shoulder. Harry tenses just a little and only for six heartbeats before loosening; even with how physical Louis and Niall are, he’s still getting used to it.
Louis lets three questions and some time pass before he makes his next move. Harry’s talking and he decides to stare. Just…stare.
It takes Harry a bit longer to catch on than Louis would have figured - maybe because his brain is too focused on answering about last week’s results - but he eventually does and slowly turns his head. It takes all of Louis’ strength and willpower to not smirk or burst out laughing when Harry’s unchanging expression and lazy eyes gaze at him. He doesn’t blink and neither does Harry, which makes it worse because he finds this funny and Harry is just rolling with him so fucking perfectly.
His fingers so, so gently scrape over Harry’s thick sweatshirt that Harry probably doesn’t feel it but he has to direct the energy that wants him to laugh somewhere and it goes straight to his hands.
After the interview, Louis says they’re going to be viral stars and Harry asks what he’s talking about.
ii.
When they’re doing the TwitCam, Harry’s a bit more conscious that people are watching him because he can see their faces on the video sidebar and lightening-fast words on the chat underneath. He realizes that Louis doesn’t change one bit from when he’s in private to public and being alone with him in the hotel room puts him at ease, even with a laptop open.
Louis - he does it without thinking because they didn’t even fucking start the chat technically yet - grabs Harry’s face to move his head so it blocks the hall’s light. Once again, Harry rolls with him for the facts that he’s beginning to get used to all the touching the boys of One Direction do and that he also doesn’t know what else to do; to him, Louis seems expert about public media portrayal and online videos, and to Louis, he’s the expert for flawlessly falling into an unnatural role.
They playfully touch throughout and Louis gets this small smirk every time Harry lets him mess up his hair or smack his back or pinch his cheek. Towards the end, Louis gets physical again but puts thought into it this time - even though it’s a fast thought, it still processes in his brain.
He shoves Harry really hard - if he were to admit, it’s harder than he originally intended - and Harry, still rolling and not putting up a fight, just goes with an “umph.”
It takes Louis half a second and Harry’s skin disappearing from his fingertips to piece what was happening. He whips his head to the side and grips Harry’s forearm hard to stop him from falling off the foot of the bed. Once Harry’s settled on the edge, he releases him, smiling proudly at the viewers because he knows they’re watching, and leans over to slap his stomach.
Louis shifts the laptop to give Harry some room and looks over to genuinely make sure he’s okay but is shocked at what he sees.
Unseen and legs curving around the side of the bed, Harry lies on his back and has his fingers pulling up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his sharp hipbones from low-hanging jeans and pale abdomen with a reddening handprint. Neck arched off the bed to see the burning mark, he stares at it before glancing at Louis.
Louis breaks out a smile, satisfied and somewhat aroused, as the mark gets more defined and inflamed by the second. A electric shiver explodes across his back; he made that mark on Harry and Harry had no choice but to live with it.
His eyes meet Harry’s to see what the reaction is. He forgets about the TwitCam because he’s now entirely focused on this lying boy next to him that he borderline manhandled. Even if he didn’t forget about the thousands of watching eyes or wasn’t doing a video chat period, he wouldn’t have acted any differently.
Harry smiles softly at him yet there’s an mischievous undertone that the corners of his beautiful lips disclose.
Louis wiggles his eyebrows at him before looking back at the now-defined handprint. He wants to touch it with his fingers, press his lips to where the palm is, lick up the finger outlines, brush his nose over the tips, breath out against Harry’s belly button…
Harry flattens his shirt out and Louis shouts to bring them both back to reality. It takes Harry a bag of potato chips and about a minute to recover. They go on but end the chat not long after, saved by a knock at the door.
“I would have loved to show all our fans how you looked lying there,” Louis roughly whispers after they’ve gotten in bed and shut off all the lights. “Holding your shirt up, briefs and pants slipping, my fucking handprint burning your stomach.”
Harry shifts around, the layers of blankets making such a distinct and loud rustle, and makes a sound that Louis would describe as half whimper, half hum.
iii.
Louis discovered that one of Harry’s weaknesses was his hair on the night that they parted ways after One Direction was put together earlier that afternoon. He hugged Liam first and went to Harry next. His placed his hand on the back of Harry’s head and felt the arms around his waist release slightly. Oh, yeah, the possibilities of fun whirled around his head instantly.
They’re doing an after-show interview with Niall and Harry’s clearly exhausted, so Niall and Louis do most of the talking while Harry nods and gives his two-cents in short sentences.
Louis is the shortest and smallest of the three and feels squished between them, so he puts his arms around them for his sides to provide some boundary. Getting the hint, Niall leans forward to give some space, while interpreting the opposite of the purpose, Harry leans back and situates himself on Louis.
Louis lifts his hand from the back of the couch and - thunk - plops it on top of Harry’s head. His fingers are unmoving as Harry goes entirely limp, head heavy and eyes fuzzy, as he starts to talk enthusiastically about Zayn’s habit of singing in the shower.
Overcome with excitement at his impromptu story, his fingers subconsciously graze so gently through Harry’s thick curls, against his scalp.
As part of his brain continues on with ridiculous details of Zayn’s morning antics, the other parts take note of the strands moving under his hand and how Harry just so subtly straightens up to add pressure and feel more. He gives and grips the hair lightly.
As Louis’ humored voice travels in his ear, Harry stares in a trance with lips slack but smiling, both at the words Louis says and the scratching sensation. Heat bolts through his veins and his head feels more uneven; if Louis didn’t have his hand on it, it’d probably fall to his shoulder.
Interview complete, Harry stands with shaky legs and Niall pretends - or, maybe, doesn’t actually - notice. His spine is tingling and arms have goosebumps under the wool sweater. Understanding, Louis wraps an arm around his waist to guide him as they follow Niall outside to the van that’s waiting to take them back to the house.
Louis says in Harry’s ear, fingertips sliding up the sweater just barely and touching his hip, “And now the whole world will know how to make you such a subbie.”
Harry breathes out fast but quiet and not harsh, feet stumbling as his ankles momentarily go weak.
Louis presses his nose in Harry’s hair and chuckles. “You’re a little subbie, aren’t ya? Don’t fret, baby, I’ll take care of ya.”
After that, Louis makes a personal goal of touching Harry’s hair once a day minimal.
iv.
One Direction loses X-Factor but it hardly matters in retrospect. They gain a dedicated following of admiring fans, two-year contract for two albums and tours, support from the music industry, worldwide fame and media frenzy, multi-million album sales, sold-out shows, and everything they ever wanted.
They’re all doing an interview and Louis is next to Harry because he can’t not be. At this point, they’ve had media training on how to respond to the common music questions and invasive personal inquiries that they may not want to reveal details about but need to provide some sort of reply.
They’re whispering to one another before getting to the next question about getting a girl’s attention, eyes locked and unblinking as Harry says, “I still don’t know how I managed to get your attention.”
He brings his arm across his stomach and slaps his hand on Harry’s upper arm, right above his elbow.
Their eyes stay locked as Louis replies, “You’re a terrible observer of attention, that’s why,” and his fingernails scratch the silky surface as he gives a short squeeze. Harry grins contently as he feels four thin lines rise and tingle, Louis letting him go to address the interviewer.
Afterwards and in the safety of their tinted-windows van, Louis takes Harry’s arm and extends it over his lap to examine the faint scratch marks. He runs his thumb over the bumps and shivers, licking his lips.
“YouTube and pictures won’t ever know the damage that squeeze did to ya.” Louis presses down and Harry squirms but doesn’t pull back. “They won’t ever know how much ya like it, either.”
v.
It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he had a habit of getting lost and confusion over directions (one direction was easier to navigate than four, okay?). Louis was always near, though, to help him and steer the right way.
They’re outside a radio station, making their way inside, when Harry just freezes. Louis isn’t far behind him and notices instantly, breaking an interview short and rushing over.
He learned that during the video chat, it was just them two and Harry was himself because it was as though no one else was there, whereas during interviews and signings, it was clearly not just them and Harry acted differently because the faces and eyes were there and in mass quantities.
Louis is keeping their touches short in duration and gentle to moderate in weight. Even though Harry’s responses have been positive and reactive, he wants to take it slow and have it progress gradually.
He rests his hand on the middle of Harry’s back and glares through his sunglasses at the woman that Harry sought assistance from, putting his other hand possessively on Harry’s arm.
“I got this, thank you,” he practically hisses with an impudent smile and leads them a couple steps away from her. He pulls Harry close to mumble, “Only you would manage to get lost walking on a straight line.”
Harry blushes and rubs the side of his neck. “The amount of people confused me.”
Louis grips the back of Harry’s shirt and looks over his shoulder at all the media and fans, cameras and recorders, chaos and wild. He leans into Harry again. “These people don’t know that you’re pretty much a lost ship without me.” Harry shivers. “They know that I guide you but they don’t know to what extent. All these eyes don’t know how confused you get and don’t know how fucking much I love directing you.”
Harry whimpers, Louis kisses the side of his neck quickly, and is pulled away by Paul to do another short interview. Louis licks his lips when Harry looks back at him, worried that he’ll get lost again and scared Louis won’t be able to find him, as they get farther apart.
Louis stays in place and keeps his eyes on Harry, who looks at him every so often in the distance to make sure he was still there. He isn’t going anywhere if Harry needs him.
vi.
During a shoot for a commercial and photo releases, the two are bored as Liam takes solo pictures. They know that cameramen are filming for an outtake video, which Louis embraces and Harry sort of forgets about because breakfast seemed so long ago and lunch is quickly approaching.
In complaint, Harry groans and stomps his foot. “I could use that free meal right now, please, thanks.”
Something clicks in Louis’ head but he doesn’t let it show as he crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows at Harry, who frowning at him.
“You’re hungry, too, I know it. And Niall was smart enough to bring his bag of Kit-Kats, but I didn’t think we’d be this long. If I had, I would’ve brought something, too, and eaten more- Well, no, I couldn’t have because then I would get an upset stomach and be grouchy…”
Louis stares at Harry goes on and on, waving his hand once in a while and bouncing his knee when he feels he’s made a strong point. His eyes shift to see a camera directed on them, smirking at the amused man holding it as Harry pays no mind.
“…told us, do you know what I mean, though?”
“Mhm,” Louis instantly responds and looks back at Harry.
“Right! Like, Paul must’ve given Niall a head’s up but we’re all growing boys, here. We all need to be told exactly how long we’ll be at each place and…”
Louis glances at the cameraman again and notices that a few employees standing behind him are also watching in amusement. Harry’s overexaggerating as he does once in a while to humor himself with gibberish and pass time.
However, some employees’ shift from amused to annoyed and Louis panics for a split second - not any longer than that because he knows exactly how he’s going to handle this - because they don’t know that this is what Harry does. He doesn’t truly mean it but rambles for the sake of rambling.
Louis figures he’s partially to blame for that after repeatedly telling Harry how fucking sexy his voice was and to read stupid material, from hotel directories to news articles, on occasion.
He uncrosses his arms and leaves one by his side as he lifts the other up to put on Harry’s shoulder.
“…and it’s- oh, thanks, I needed that comfort,” Harry says in regards to Louis’ hand. “But, seriously, we should order our food right now so it’ll be ready by the time we-”
Louis stares at Harry’s mouth, red and moving, as he precisely and swiftly directs his finger toward it.
“You’re done,” he commands as the tip touches Harry’s upper lip, causing him to clasp his hands together in front of him and shut his mouth obediently.
The rest of his pointer finger to presses down accurately and thumb goes under Harry’s chin.
Bulls eye, Louis thinks and the two fingertips easily push Harry’s head back with expectedly no restraint. He looks from Harry’s lips to instead take in his whole face, unaffected and impassive. The absence of normal appropriate reaction that others would have turned him on. Harry trusted him so much that he could do practically anything without doubt or being stopped. The control he had over the younger man never failed to make him crazy and horny.
Harry parts his lips for a second so they aren’t squished awkwardly as his head goes backward, half-closed eyes restless and unsure of where to look in such an angle. He settles on Louis.
“Brat,” Louis gruffly breathes out and takes a step toward Harry, easing the force of his fingers so Harry can look at him straight. “We’re being filmed this very moment and the whole entire world is going to think you’re a spoiled brat who was refused a cookie before dinner.”
Harry’s hands remain folded and eyes stare deep into Louis’, wanting so bad to take the finger in his mouth but knowing better now with the knowledge of a camera on him.
Louis chuckles and slowly turns his head to the side a bit. “But it’s an accurate portrayal, though. You are spoiled. I spoil the shit out of you and you taketaketake every drop, crumb, piece that you can. As you should.” He holds Harry’s chin tighter. “As you deserve.”
“Louis!” the photographer’s assistant yells, Louis automatically moving away and letting Harry go. “You’re up!”
In addition being physical and bossy, Louis realizes he liked being verbal.
vii.
On stage, Louis tended to be more flirty and gentle with Harry. If something bad were to happen, which he doubts but better safe than sorry, then Harry - embarrassed and possibly hurt - would have to face the screams and faces of thousands of fans instead of a roomful of people.
So, instead of being physically aggressive, he decides to be verbally aggressive.
They sit on the couch with Zayn between them.
Louis reaches behind Zayn and taps Harry on the shoulder. When Harry looks at him, he snaps his fingers and points to the back of the couch.
“Sit back.”
Zayn hears and watches as Harry does as he’s told. Harry looks to Louis with pleased, lusty eyes and is given an approving nod. He smiles back.
“I have you whipped,” Louis says, Zayn ignoring them and Harry chewing on his bottom lip, “and the entire arena knows it. By tomorrow, the whole world will know it. They’ll know how fucking easy it is for me to control you and how you love every fucking second of it.”
Harry squirms in his spot and eyes the large screaming crowd in front of him, blushing because Louis was right. Their fans were over-observant and nitpicky whereas he was borderline clueless and just did as he was told.
If he was honest, he would say that he’s shocked that very moment was as big a deal to the fans as it was.
viii.
Harry grows fast and is suddenly perceived as having control solely based on his height and low voice. Louis is admittedly more upset than he should be but he doesn’t care because Harry is his and the world needs to be reminded.
The moment is unexpected but it’s exactly the opportunity that Louis needs.
He hands Harry the pitcher of apple juice and cheers him on as he chugs. Once the liquid is mostly gone and Harry’s slowing down, he takes action.
He lifts the bottom of the pitcher up and Harry widens his mouth and throat more to meet the rushing juice, not complaining or making any sign that he wants to stop. Louis’ satisfied as he lifts more and more until Harry’s done and gasping for breath.
Licking his lips, he stares at the flushed cheeks and takes the empty pitcher back. To him, it was reclaiming a title. To Harry, this was just another normal thing…except that it almost choked him and got him slightly shaken up. He wouldn’t let Louis know that, though, because surely it was temporary.
ix.
Louis hides how hurt he is the time Harry jumps away. He’s not confused - that’d be silly since the answers are right there - but definitely is shocked.
He’s holding Harry’s elbow and gives the smallest of squeezes - it’s like he’s in the motion of completing a squeeze - when Harry jumps and pulls his arm away. Louis keeps his small smile in face but his insides toss and turn. When he reaches out to take Harry by the waist, Harry’s eyes follow his hand and his throat tenses.
What the fuck was going? Was Harry…nervous? Skeptical?
When Louis’ fingers get to his waist, Harry looks up at him with creased eyebrows. He hadn’t meant to react that way - really, he never had in the past, not once - but it happened and now he turned to Louis for answers as to why, because he sure as hell didn’t know.
Louis’ eyes are understandably bothered and concerned but Harry’s read about the same. His smile falls slightly while Harry just stares at him, waiting. Waiting for what? He did nothing out of the ordinary here - Harry did. It was he who should be waiting.
Harry starts to shake under Louis’ soft grasp and he faces the crowd, hot and dizzy. They all saw. They all saw him flinch. Disappointed in himself, he feels like he’ll never get this relationship or fame completely figured out.
“You alright?” Louis asks, short and direct.
“I…I don’t know,” Harry honestly answers.
x.
They ease up after that and by ease up, it means they refuse to sit next to one another, share hotel rooms, be alone for any period of time, and answer questions about their living together and friendship.
Harry gets lost a few times and Louis, who’s secretly keeping track, nudges one of the guys to go help him.
He passes time by rambling at interns that are too starstruck and polite to shut him up and when he’s to the point of turning blue in the face, Louis will whisper to an assistant to start getting Harry ready.
They’re both exhausted from lack of actions and Louis realizes that it’s up to him to break this cycle.
During the concert’s Twitter segment, he’s requested to do leapfrog. He looks at Harry across the stage, who smiles but with no sparkle in his eyes, and beckons him over. When Harry doesn’t move, he says firmly into the microphone, “Harry, get over here,” and Harry takes slow but long strides over to him.
He grabs Harry’s shoulders - happy that he didn’t jump - and whispers, “I broke your trust somehow along the way. I’m going to restore it right now.”
Zayn takes both their mics and he spins Harry around, holding him to his chest for a moment that makes the crowd erupt.
He kisses the top of Harry’s ear, once more whispering, “I’m gonna restore us. Back to you listening and trusting me without an inch of fright.”
Holding Harry’s shoulders, he takes a step back and Harry sways in front of him, spineless and muscle lax. Smirking, he yanks Harry to an upright position and he goes with it - rolling with him. He pushes one side of Harry’s waist and it follows, hips thrusting forward and knees bending.
“Fucking right. Show them how we work,” Louis mumbles and Harry moans from deep in his throat, forearms stretched out. “When we’re done here, I’m gonna prove myself to you; not only that you can trust me but that you need to.”
Harry glances back at Louis, who pats his shoulder in reward and satisfaction, and stays still. He didn’t need reminding that he needed and trusted Louis and he was fairly certain Louis knew that but if it was something he needed to do, Harry would let it be done.
Their relationship worked two ways, after all.
***
Links: [ 2 TwitCam ] [ 4 | Attention ] [ 7 | Sit Back ] [ 8 | Apple Juice]
Rating: R
Pairing Harry/Louis
Words: ~4,000
Summary: 1dkinkmeme: Louis likes to show off Harry in public... [GIF heavy]
Disclaimer: Fiction, not getting paid, don't know or own the people.
As many great things did for the boys of One Direction, Harry and Louis’ relationship started on the X-Factor. With X-Factor came not only the formation and development of One Direction and music criticism but non-stop rolling cameras, watching eyes, and public acknowledgement. It was a basic cable show, so their faces were in millions of households on a weekly basis.
Harry didn’t think about that fact too much unless they were performing on stage. In the house and recording the online video diaries, it didn’t seem to register to him that the entire world would be watching him on YouTube the following morning (which explains why he didn’t care when the producers told him they wanted to do a segment about his love for nudity. “Imply to the planet that I’m naked? Sure.”).
On the contrary, Louis thought about it - a lot. He was always aware that some stranger somewhere was or would be watching. He slowly came to realize that Harry was oblivious and it made him excited because…he could have fun with that. Harry trusted him and he was going to take advantage of it; not abuse it but simply use it. What’s the point of having car keys if there’s no car?
i.
It starts easy. Louis takes the route of “approaching a territorial dog;” he doesn’t want to be bitten nor does he want it to run away to alert its master.
He and Harry are sitting backstage for a short interview about the week’s rehearsal and upcoming performance. He lays his arm on the back of the couch, comfortably pressed against Harry’s shoulder blades, and hand hanging near his shoulder. Harry tenses just a little and only for six heartbeats before loosening; even with how physical Louis and Niall are, he’s still getting used to it.
Louis lets three questions and some time pass before he makes his next move. Harry’s talking and he decides to stare. Just…stare.
It takes Harry a bit longer to catch on than Louis would have figured - maybe because his brain is too focused on answering about last week’s results - but he eventually does and slowly turns his head. It takes all of Louis’ strength and willpower to not smirk or burst out laughing when Harry’s unchanging expression and lazy eyes gaze at him. He doesn’t blink and neither does Harry, which makes it worse because he finds this funny and Harry is just rolling with him so fucking perfectly.
His fingers so, so gently scrape over Harry’s thick sweatshirt that Harry probably doesn’t feel it but he has to direct the energy that wants him to laugh somewhere and it goes straight to his hands.
After the interview, Louis says they’re going to be viral stars and Harry asks what he’s talking about.
ii.
When they’re doing the TwitCam, Harry’s a bit more conscious that people are watching him because he can see their faces on the video sidebar and lightening-fast words on the chat underneath. He realizes that Louis doesn’t change one bit from when he’s in private to public and being alone with him in the hotel room puts him at ease, even with a laptop open.
Louis - he does it without thinking because they didn’t even fucking start the chat technically yet - grabs Harry’s face to move his head so it blocks the hall’s light. Once again, Harry rolls with him for the facts that he’s beginning to get used to all the touching the boys of One Direction do and that he also doesn’t know what else to do; to him, Louis seems expert about public media portrayal and online videos, and to Louis, he’s the expert for flawlessly falling into an unnatural role.
They playfully touch throughout and Louis gets this small smirk every time Harry lets him mess up his hair or smack his back or pinch his cheek. Towards the end, Louis gets physical again but puts thought into it this time - even though it’s a fast thought, it still processes in his brain.
He shoves Harry really hard - if he were to admit, it’s harder than he originally intended - and Harry, still rolling and not putting up a fight, just goes with an “umph.”
It takes Louis half a second and Harry’s skin disappearing from his fingertips to piece what was happening. He whips his head to the side and grips Harry’s forearm hard to stop him from falling off the foot of the bed. Once Harry’s settled on the edge, he releases him, smiling proudly at the viewers because he knows they’re watching, and leans over to slap his stomach.
Louis shifts the laptop to give Harry some room and looks over to genuinely make sure he’s okay but is shocked at what he sees.
Unseen and legs curving around the side of the bed, Harry lies on his back and has his fingers pulling up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his sharp hipbones from low-hanging jeans and pale abdomen with a reddening handprint. Neck arched off the bed to see the burning mark, he stares at it before glancing at Louis.
Louis breaks out a smile, satisfied and somewhat aroused, as the mark gets more defined and inflamed by the second. A electric shiver explodes across his back; he made that mark on Harry and Harry had no choice but to live with it.
His eyes meet Harry’s to see what the reaction is. He forgets about the TwitCam because he’s now entirely focused on this lying boy next to him that he borderline manhandled. Even if he didn’t forget about the thousands of watching eyes or wasn’t doing a video chat period, he wouldn’t have acted any differently.
Harry smiles softly at him yet there’s an mischievous undertone that the corners of his beautiful lips disclose.
Louis wiggles his eyebrows at him before looking back at the now-defined handprint. He wants to touch it with his fingers, press his lips to where the palm is, lick up the finger outlines, brush his nose over the tips, breath out against Harry’s belly button…
Harry flattens his shirt out and Louis shouts to bring them both back to reality. It takes Harry a bag of potato chips and about a minute to recover. They go on but end the chat not long after, saved by a knock at the door.
“I would have loved to show all our fans how you looked lying there,” Louis roughly whispers after they’ve gotten in bed and shut off all the lights. “Holding your shirt up, briefs and pants slipping, my fucking handprint burning your stomach.”
Harry shifts around, the layers of blankets making such a distinct and loud rustle, and makes a sound that Louis would describe as half whimper, half hum.
iii.
Louis discovered that one of Harry’s weaknesses was his hair on the night that they parted ways after One Direction was put together earlier that afternoon. He hugged Liam first and went to Harry next. His placed his hand on the back of Harry’s head and felt the arms around his waist release slightly. Oh, yeah, the possibilities of fun whirled around his head instantly.
They’re doing an after-show interview with Niall and Harry’s clearly exhausted, so Niall and Louis do most of the talking while Harry nods and gives his two-cents in short sentences.
Louis is the shortest and smallest of the three and feels squished between them, so he puts his arms around them for his sides to provide some boundary. Getting the hint, Niall leans forward to give some space, while interpreting the opposite of the purpose, Harry leans back and situates himself on Louis.
Louis lifts his hand from the back of the couch and - thunk - plops it on top of Harry’s head. His fingers are unmoving as Harry goes entirely limp, head heavy and eyes fuzzy, as he starts to talk enthusiastically about Zayn’s habit of singing in the shower.
Overcome with excitement at his impromptu story, his fingers subconsciously graze so gently through Harry’s thick curls, against his scalp.
As part of his brain continues on with ridiculous details of Zayn’s morning antics, the other parts take note of the strands moving under his hand and how Harry just so subtly straightens up to add pressure and feel more. He gives and grips the hair lightly.
As Louis’ humored voice travels in his ear, Harry stares in a trance with lips slack but smiling, both at the words Louis says and the scratching sensation. Heat bolts through his veins and his head feels more uneven; if Louis didn’t have his hand on it, it’d probably fall to his shoulder.
Interview complete, Harry stands with shaky legs and Niall pretends - or, maybe, doesn’t actually - notice. His spine is tingling and arms have goosebumps under the wool sweater. Understanding, Louis wraps an arm around his waist to guide him as they follow Niall outside to the van that’s waiting to take them back to the house.
Louis says in Harry’s ear, fingertips sliding up the sweater just barely and touching his hip, “And now the whole world will know how to make you such a subbie.”
Harry breathes out fast but quiet and not harsh, feet stumbling as his ankles momentarily go weak.
Louis presses his nose in Harry’s hair and chuckles. “You’re a little subbie, aren’t ya? Don’t fret, baby, I’ll take care of ya.”
After that, Louis makes a personal goal of touching Harry’s hair once a day minimal.
iv.
One Direction loses X-Factor but it hardly matters in retrospect. They gain a dedicated following of admiring fans, two-year contract for two albums and tours, support from the music industry, worldwide fame and media frenzy, multi-million album sales, sold-out shows, and everything they ever wanted.
They’re all doing an interview and Louis is next to Harry because he can’t not be. At this point, they’ve had media training on how to respond to the common music questions and invasive personal inquiries that they may not want to reveal details about but need to provide some sort of reply.
They’re whispering to one another before getting to the next question about getting a girl’s attention, eyes locked and unblinking as Harry says, “I still don’t know how I managed to get your attention.”
He brings his arm across his stomach and slaps his hand on Harry’s upper arm, right above his elbow.
Their eyes stay locked as Louis replies, “You’re a terrible observer of attention, that’s why,” and his fingernails scratch the silky surface as he gives a short squeeze. Harry grins contently as he feels four thin lines rise and tingle, Louis letting him go to address the interviewer.
Afterwards and in the safety of their tinted-windows van, Louis takes Harry’s arm and extends it over his lap to examine the faint scratch marks. He runs his thumb over the bumps and shivers, licking his lips.
“YouTube and pictures won’t ever know the damage that squeeze did to ya.” Louis presses down and Harry squirms but doesn’t pull back. “They won’t ever know how much ya like it, either.”
v.
It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he had a habit of getting lost and confusion over directions (one direction was easier to navigate than four, okay?). Louis was always near, though, to help him and steer the right way.
They’re outside a radio station, making their way inside, when Harry just freezes. Louis isn’t far behind him and notices instantly, breaking an interview short and rushing over.
He learned that during the video chat, it was just them two and Harry was himself because it was as though no one else was there, whereas during interviews and signings, it was clearly not just them and Harry acted differently because the faces and eyes were there and in mass quantities.
Louis is keeping their touches short in duration and gentle to moderate in weight. Even though Harry’s responses have been positive and reactive, he wants to take it slow and have it progress gradually.
He rests his hand on the middle of Harry’s back and glares through his sunglasses at the woman that Harry sought assistance from, putting his other hand possessively on Harry’s arm.
“I got this, thank you,” he practically hisses with an impudent smile and leads them a couple steps away from her. He pulls Harry close to mumble, “Only you would manage to get lost walking on a straight line.”
Harry blushes and rubs the side of his neck. “The amount of people confused me.”
Louis grips the back of Harry’s shirt and looks over his shoulder at all the media and fans, cameras and recorders, chaos and wild. He leans into Harry again. “These people don’t know that you’re pretty much a lost ship without me.” Harry shivers. “They know that I guide you but they don’t know to what extent. All these eyes don’t know how confused you get and don’t know how fucking much I love directing you.”
Harry whimpers, Louis kisses the side of his neck quickly, and is pulled away by Paul to do another short interview. Louis licks his lips when Harry looks back at him, worried that he’ll get lost again and scared Louis won’t be able to find him, as they get farther apart.
Louis stays in place and keeps his eyes on Harry, who looks at him every so often in the distance to make sure he was still there. He isn’t going anywhere if Harry needs him.
vi.
During a shoot for a commercial and photo releases, the two are bored as Liam takes solo pictures. They know that cameramen are filming for an outtake video, which Louis embraces and Harry sort of forgets about because breakfast seemed so long ago and lunch is quickly approaching.
In complaint, Harry groans and stomps his foot. “I could use that free meal right now, please, thanks.”
Something clicks in Louis’ head but he doesn’t let it show as he crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows at Harry, who frowning at him.
“You’re hungry, too, I know it. And Niall was smart enough to bring his bag of Kit-Kats, but I didn’t think we’d be this long. If I had, I would’ve brought something, too, and eaten more- Well, no, I couldn’t have because then I would get an upset stomach and be grouchy…”
Louis stares at Harry goes on and on, waving his hand once in a while and bouncing his knee when he feels he’s made a strong point. His eyes shift to see a camera directed on them, smirking at the amused man holding it as Harry pays no mind.
“…told us, do you know what I mean, though?”
“Mhm,” Louis instantly responds and looks back at Harry.
“Right! Like, Paul must’ve given Niall a head’s up but we’re all growing boys, here. We all need to be told exactly how long we’ll be at each place and…”
Louis glances at the cameraman again and notices that a few employees standing behind him are also watching in amusement. Harry’s overexaggerating as he does once in a while to humor himself with gibberish and pass time.
However, some employees’ shift from amused to annoyed and Louis panics for a split second - not any longer than that because he knows exactly how he’s going to handle this - because they don’t know that this is what Harry does. He doesn’t truly mean it but rambles for the sake of rambling.
Louis figures he’s partially to blame for that after repeatedly telling Harry how fucking sexy his voice was and to read stupid material, from hotel directories to news articles, on occasion.
He uncrosses his arms and leaves one by his side as he lifts the other up to put on Harry’s shoulder.
“…and it’s- oh, thanks, I needed that comfort,” Harry says in regards to Louis’ hand. “But, seriously, we should order our food right now so it’ll be ready by the time we-”
Louis stares at Harry’s mouth, red and moving, as he precisely and swiftly directs his finger toward it.
“You’re done,” he commands as the tip touches Harry’s upper lip, causing him to clasp his hands together in front of him and shut his mouth obediently.
The rest of his pointer finger to presses down accurately and thumb goes under Harry’s chin.
Bulls eye, Louis thinks and the two fingertips easily push Harry’s head back with expectedly no restraint. He looks from Harry’s lips to instead take in his whole face, unaffected and impassive. The absence of normal appropriate reaction that others would have turned him on. Harry trusted him so much that he could do practically anything without doubt or being stopped. The control he had over the younger man never failed to make him crazy and horny.
Harry parts his lips for a second so they aren’t squished awkwardly as his head goes backward, half-closed eyes restless and unsure of where to look in such an angle. He settles on Louis.
“Brat,” Louis gruffly breathes out and takes a step toward Harry, easing the force of his fingers so Harry can look at him straight. “We’re being filmed this very moment and the whole entire world is going to think you’re a spoiled brat who was refused a cookie before dinner.”
Harry’s hands remain folded and eyes stare deep into Louis’, wanting so bad to take the finger in his mouth but knowing better now with the knowledge of a camera on him.
Louis chuckles and slowly turns his head to the side a bit. “But it’s an accurate portrayal, though. You are spoiled. I spoil the shit out of you and you taketaketake every drop, crumb, piece that you can. As you should.” He holds Harry’s chin tighter. “As you deserve.”
“Louis!” the photographer’s assistant yells, Louis automatically moving away and letting Harry go. “You’re up!”
In addition being physical and bossy, Louis realizes he liked being verbal.
vii.
On stage, Louis tended to be more flirty and gentle with Harry. If something bad were to happen, which he doubts but better safe than sorry, then Harry - embarrassed and possibly hurt - would have to face the screams and faces of thousands of fans instead of a roomful of people.
So, instead of being physically aggressive, he decides to be verbally aggressive.
They sit on the couch with Zayn between them.
Louis reaches behind Zayn and taps Harry on the shoulder. When Harry looks at him, he snaps his fingers and points to the back of the couch.
“Sit back.”
Zayn hears and watches as Harry does as he’s told. Harry looks to Louis with pleased, lusty eyes and is given an approving nod. He smiles back.
“I have you whipped,” Louis says, Zayn ignoring them and Harry chewing on his bottom lip, “and the entire arena knows it. By tomorrow, the whole world will know it. They’ll know how fucking easy it is for me to control you and how you love every fucking second of it.”
Harry squirms in his spot and eyes the large screaming crowd in front of him, blushing because Louis was right. Their fans were over-observant and nitpicky whereas he was borderline clueless and just did as he was told.
If he was honest, he would say that he’s shocked that very moment was as big a deal to the fans as it was.
viii.
Harry grows fast and is suddenly perceived as having control solely based on his height and low voice. Louis is admittedly more upset than he should be but he doesn’t care because Harry is his and the world needs to be reminded.
The moment is unexpected but it’s exactly the opportunity that Louis needs.
He hands Harry the pitcher of apple juice and cheers him on as he chugs. Once the liquid is mostly gone and Harry’s slowing down, he takes action.
He lifts the bottom of the pitcher up and Harry widens his mouth and throat more to meet the rushing juice, not complaining or making any sign that he wants to stop. Louis’ satisfied as he lifts more and more until Harry’s done and gasping for breath.
Licking his lips, he stares at the flushed cheeks and takes the empty pitcher back. To him, it was reclaiming a title. To Harry, this was just another normal thing…except that it almost choked him and got him slightly shaken up. He wouldn’t let Louis know that, though, because surely it was temporary.
ix.
Louis hides how hurt he is the time Harry jumps away. He’s not confused - that’d be silly since the answers are right there - but definitely is shocked.
He’s holding Harry’s elbow and gives the smallest of squeezes - it’s like he’s in the motion of completing a squeeze - when Harry jumps and pulls his arm away. Louis keeps his small smile in face but his insides toss and turn. When he reaches out to take Harry by the waist, Harry’s eyes follow his hand and his throat tenses.
What the fuck was going? Was Harry…nervous? Skeptical?
When Louis’ fingers get to his waist, Harry looks up at him with creased eyebrows. He hadn’t meant to react that way - really, he never had in the past, not once - but it happened and now he turned to Louis for answers as to why, because he sure as hell didn’t know.
Louis’ eyes are understandably bothered and concerned but Harry’s read about the same. His smile falls slightly while Harry just stares at him, waiting. Waiting for what? He did nothing out of the ordinary here - Harry did. It was he who should be waiting.
Harry starts to shake under Louis’ soft grasp and he faces the crowd, hot and dizzy. They all saw. They all saw him flinch. Disappointed in himself, he feels like he’ll never get this relationship or fame completely figured out.
“You alright?” Louis asks, short and direct.
“I…I don’t know,” Harry honestly answers.
x.
They ease up after that and by ease up, it means they refuse to sit next to one another, share hotel rooms, be alone for any period of time, and answer questions about their living together and friendship.
Harry gets lost a few times and Louis, who’s secretly keeping track, nudges one of the guys to go help him.
He passes time by rambling at interns that are too starstruck and polite to shut him up and when he’s to the point of turning blue in the face, Louis will whisper to an assistant to start getting Harry ready.
They’re both exhausted from lack of actions and Louis realizes that it’s up to him to break this cycle.
During the concert’s Twitter segment, he’s requested to do leapfrog. He looks at Harry across the stage, who smiles but with no sparkle in his eyes, and beckons him over. When Harry doesn’t move, he says firmly into the microphone, “Harry, get over here,” and Harry takes slow but long strides over to him.
He grabs Harry’s shoulders - happy that he didn’t jump - and whispers, “I broke your trust somehow along the way. I’m going to restore it right now.”
Zayn takes both their mics and he spins Harry around, holding him to his chest for a moment that makes the crowd erupt.
He kisses the top of Harry’s ear, once more whispering, “I’m gonna restore us. Back to you listening and trusting me without an inch of fright.”
Holding Harry’s shoulders, he takes a step back and Harry sways in front of him, spineless and muscle lax. Smirking, he yanks Harry to an upright position and he goes with it - rolling with him. He pushes one side of Harry’s waist and it follows, hips thrusting forward and knees bending.
“Fucking right. Show them how we work,” Louis mumbles and Harry moans from deep in his throat, forearms stretched out. “When we’re done here, I’m gonna prove myself to you; not only that you can trust me but that you need to.”
Harry glances back at Louis, who pats his shoulder in reward and satisfaction, and stays still. He didn’t need reminding that he needed and trusted Louis and he was fairly certain Louis knew that but if it was something he needed to do, Harry would let it be done.
Their relationship worked two ways, after all.
***
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