What People Mean By Down & Out (Harry/Louis/Nick, AU)
What People Mean By Down & Out
Harry turns into a cat when he's overly emotional.
inspired by a tweet from Nick, oops.
Warnings: harry is a grey kitten?, swearing,
title taken from Black Dog by Led Zeppelin. (x)
16 March - 3048 words.
"Hi pal ❤^-^"
“I can’t believe you tweeted a picture of me!”
That was the first thing Nick heard from Harry when he emerged, stark naked, from Nick’s bedroom. He’d locked himself in there to call Louis, more than a little disoriented and confused by the events of the day, and hadn’t said a word to Nick for a good three hours
Nick’s response was a less-than-dignified giggle.
Harry glared at him and stormed into the kitchen, making grumpy noises and slamming the cabinets about as much as someone who actually enjoys cooking can. Soon enough, the smell of tuna is filling Nick’s house and Nick figures he’ll be forgiven soon enough.
The picture was really adorable, after all.
*****
Harry had been very annoyed when he turned into a cat halfway through his lad’s night with Nick. He’d been working very hard to control his triggers so that he didn’t spontaneously become a small ball of fluff in front of the fans, and the fact that he’d gotten overwhelmed with just Nick around was preposterous.
But, well, this was technically Louis’ fault anyway.
So Harry made the most of being cute and fluffy, curling up against Nick and purring with his whole body until Nick decided that his lap was a better spot for Harry. Kitten eyes blinking softly at Nick, Harry had settled in between Nick’s thighs and promptly fallen asleep, tiny heart beating wildly.
Nick had pretended to be very put out when Harry had first revealed his secret - I turn into a cat when I can’t sort out the emotions in my head - but had softened up when Harry’s eyes got all big and sad like he thought Nick might want to stop antique shopping with him right then and there. Nick really wasn’t a cat person, but he thought that if he never had to see Harry’s eyes look like that again, he could make an exception.
Nick wasn’t sure what had made him be so sure that Harry was telling the truth, because really - who does that? And that was probably it, to be honest, the fact that people don’t just say things like that. Especially not Harry, so full of calm philosophy and weird foods that 18-year-olds shouldn’t know about in depth
So he wasn’t surprised when his newest best friend had suddenly transformed into a small vibrating furball, complete with whiskers and the tiniest heart-shaped nose he’d ever seen.
*****
Brrrrrrrring. Brrrrrrring. Brrrrrrrring.
“Goddamn it, Lou, pick up the phone.”
Harry was pacing back and forth in Nick’s bedroom, door locked but still throwing nervous glances at it between every too-loud ring. If he was also surreptitiously circling the bed as best he could, well - no one would know.
“Ha-Haz?” Louis’ voice was crackly with sleep. “What’s going on?”
“It happened again, Lou, it fucking happened again.”
“Wha’? I thought you were at Grimmy’s?”
“I am! I’m locked in his bedroom. I’m naked because I turned into a fucking kitten in the middle of the fucking Great British Bake Off and I don’t know why." Harry’s nose was twitching in frustration.
“Breathe, Hazza. You’re so good, Haz, so lovely - Nick won’t be upset, I promise.”
Harry let out a long breathe that sounded a bit like mewl.
“It’s not like Nick didn’t know that this happened sometimes - you said you told him months ago.”
“Well, yeah,” Harry sighed. “But it’s one thing to tell someone and a whole ‘nother thing to actually turn into a kitten while sitting next to them!”
“Haz, you’re fine.”
“I still don’t know why I turned.”
“Okay, well - erm - when was the last time you turned without knowing your trigger?”
“You bloody know when, Lou.”
*****
The first time it had happened around the band was only the second time it had ever happened to Harry
The first time he’d spontaneously turned into a kitten, he’d been trying to tell his mother that he may like more than girls? And he’d been so nervous and scared and confused that when he opened his mouth to just tell her, out came a “meow”. The sound, combined with the sudden discovery of paws and tail and whiskers, resulted in a lot of high-pitched whining and him almost knocking himself out when he lost his footing on the tile floor in the kitchen.
Anne had laughed softly and rescued him from the slippery doom, cuddling him close and stroking his fur until he calmed down enough to resume human form. When he had woken up naked on the couch, his head in his mom’s lap, he had squeaked and scampered to his room, waking up his mom in the process.
Anne just laughed again, because she loved Harry and she understood much better than he thought she did - where else would have inherited the ability to turn into a cat?
The next time was much, much more awkward for Harry.
*****
It was the night after One Direction had been put through to the live shows.
Everyone was running on a high mix of emotions, stressed and elated and still a little unsure of how they were all supposed to fit together in this band.
Harry had it worst, though, because Louis was dealing with his emotions by being as touchy-feely as possible. He honestly didn’t mind the cuddling and the hair-petting and madcap adventures that being Louis’ new best friend required, normally, but ever since the moment with the sea urchin when Harry was suddenly faced with the idea that he might someday not have Louis in his life, he’d been trying to make sense of the sickening knot in his stomach that such thoughts produced.
All he really knew is that he wanted Louis to always stay with him.
He didn’t really know what to do with that information, or how to convince himself that it didn’t mean anything. The more he thought about it, the more frazzled he got. It was something that was always on his mind, and Louis’ relentless bombardment of his senses only aggravated it. He wished desperately to be annoyed, to get frustrated, to feel anything in abundance rather than the messy concoction of emotion his body currently harbored
Louis apparently was not suffering from a similar emotional hurricane because he had somehow managed to be quiet for the last few minutes. Harry looked around suspiciously, unsure of what the older boy was up to - because with Louis, quiet meant mischief. The louder and brighter he got, the more upset he felt. It was unfortunate for most people, who didn’t seem able to understand this about Louis, but Harry’d always understood Louis in a way that scared the both of them a little bit.
Louis waited for Harry to furrow his eyebrows in concentration before enacting his current master plan. Harry only made that face when he was really deep in thought, and Louis knew it would take at least that much distraction for his plan to work.
So it came to be that the second the little wrinkles showed up between Harry’s eyes, Louis pounced.
Louis’ master plan hadn’t really gotten further than ‘distract Harry until he smiles’, so he really did just pounce on the younger boy and hope for the best. Okay, he’d maybe been drinking a little bit in celebration and figured pouncing led to tickle-fights, and maybe tickle-fights would lead to kisses - he’d gotten over the fact that he wanted to kiss Harry about ten seconds after meeting him the bathroom, except when he was drunk because then those lips looked so much more kissable.
His pounce did lead to a tickle-fight, although not to kissing. Harry and Louis had a Simba-and-Nala problem when the wrestled - Louis always always ended up on top. No matter how much Harry struggled, at the end of the fight when they were both giggling helplessly, Louis was looming over him
Louis was not surprised at all when this particular tickle-fight ended the same way. They had rolled off the couch and landed on the floor in a tussle of limbs, poking and prodding until they were both breathless with joy. They’d paused like that, tangled together in a happy haze. Louish had chanced a look down - you’re not drunk enough to be stupid about this just look at him dammi - only to have his gaze met by a strange emotion clouding those intense green eyes he’d come to love. They were so close Louis could feel Harry’s breath on his cheek, and it made him shiver a little. He’d closed his eyes to clear his head for a second, the atmosphere feeling suddenly heady.
When he opened them again, it was to discover a small grey kitten in Harry’s place.
To Louis’ credit, he did not freak the fuck out - no matter how much he wanted to. He rolled over gingerly, careful to avoid smooshing the tiny furball that had to be Harry, however impossible that may be. The kitten had blinked its eyes at him innocently before climbing on top of his chest and curling into the little dip between his pecs. Louis had taken in a deep, shuddery breath at the sudden warmth and weight, but the kitten had just extended its claws a little bit until Louis held still.
“If you think I’m sleeping on the floor just so you can stay curled up like that, you’ve got another thing coming.”
The kitten opened one eye warily before sticking its little pink tongue out at Louis. Before he could even have half a mind to be affronted, the kitten was asleep. Louis let out a small sigh, resolving firmly to call Anne in the morning if there was still a kitten on his chest instead of a sixteen-year-old boy
In the morning, he awoke to a very naked Harry curled up with him. Louis breathed a sigh of relief, glad that his best friend was back. He could tell that his back ached already, but couldn’t bring himself to extricate his limbs from the warmth of Harry. It was early yet, so he snuggled in close and drifted back to sleep.
When he woke up the second time, it was to the younger boy stirring in his sleep, stretching out slowly as he floated towards consciousness. Louis knew Harry, knew he would freak out about this, so he wrapped one arm tight around the boy’s soft stomach - high enough not to cause any additional panic, he hoped - and kept him close. He felt the exact moment Harry found himself awake enough to remember what had happened, and sighed as his whole body went rigid with fear.
“Lou?”
“Yeah, Haz?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Never, babe. A little confused, maybe? But never mad, not at you.”
Harry sighed happily and relaxed against Louis for a moment, both boys breathing in the simple joy of being with each other. Quiet moments were pretty rare for them, even at this early stage in their career. At any moment, one of the other contestants could come traipsing in and everything would be ruined.
“Hey, Haz?”
“Mmmmm?” Harry nuzzled his head into the crook of Louis’ neck. Louis took a deep breath and willed himself not to look down at the rest of Harry’s body, now tilted towards him.
“You, erm, turned into a kitten last night? Is that, like, a thing that happens often to you?”
Harry flushes bright pink before he answers. “I did, yeah. It’s only happened once before, when I...” He pauses there, realizing he’s not had this conversation with Louis ever, and that being naked and cuddling is not the best time for coming out to his best friend. “Actually, erm, can I go put some pants on or something? I’m cold.”
“Yeah, no worries. I need to stretch out my back anyway. Just promise me we’ll talk about it, please?”
“I promise, Louis. I’ll make breakfast for us and I’ll tell you.”
“Sounds perfect.”
So they separate, and Harry flushes darker when he realizes he’s been sporting morning wood the whole time. Louis politely doesn’t mention it, just picks himself up of the floor and tries not to wince at the pain in his back. Harry scampers off to find someone’s clothing - because the boys are already at the point where clothes are mutual property - and takes his time changing, deep slow breaths as he gathers his courage to tell Louis about this while willing his embarrassing problem to go down.
They meet up in the kitchen, where Harry is bright and happy and makes them pancakes. Louis is sluggish, waiting for the painkillers to kick in so his back feels less like someone stepped on it. The pancakes are golden and fluffy, and Niall stumbles through to steal a stack, hair sticking every which way. He grumbles a hello before disappearing with his pancakes, and it’s so normal that it’s funny.
Eventually, they sit down to eat in a corner of the house, as cut off from the shrieks of the girls fighting over the bathroom as they can get. Harry shakes a little and Louis smiles reassuringly, and it just works - like everything else about them.
“I’ve turned once before, when I told my mom that I liked boys as well as girls.” Harry’s eyes are downcast, afraid to meet Louis’ and see disgust sitting in those beautiful eyes. Louis hugs him, though, so it’s probably alright.
“...so it’s like a nerves thing?”
“Sort of? My mum says it’s something that happens when my emotions get too muddled and I can’t sort them out.”
“That... makes sense, weirdly enough.” Louis sounds so thoroughly nonplussed that Harry has to stifle a giggle, which earns him a glare.
“I’m sorry my furry little problem actually makes sense.”
And then they’re both laughing, and Harry thinks he’s made it out in the clear. As the laughter dies down, though, Louis gets a thoughtful look on his face.
“What made you turn last night, then?”
Harry shrugs a little, tugs on one of his curls like he’s considering pulling it down to chew on, and tries to think of a way out of answering this honestly. He’s not sure he’s ready to tell Louis the extent of his love for the boy.
Louis scoots in closer, leaning up against Harry. Harry’s always the big spoon between the two of them, even though they’re the same size. Harry smiles down into Louis’ hair, the big stupid grin that he can never quite control. They sit like that for a moment, close and content, listening to the sounds of the house waking up around them.
“Haz, you can tell me anything, you know?” Louis’ voice is a soft murmur, just barely reaching Harry’s ears. His fingers are curled gently into the hem of Harry's shirt.
"Yeah, Lou. I know. You too, right? That's what best friends means."
"O'course, Haz.” Harry can feel that small, shy smile forming on Louis’ face, the one that feels like it might belong to Harry, and he feels a little lighter. Louis twist his neck up to look at Harry, blurts out, “How about this? I'll tell you a secret and then you'll tell me one. We've got the morning off, it's perfect!" His eyes are so, so bright, and Harry can’t tell him no.
“I’ve already told you one this morning, ‘s your turn.”
Louis pouts a little, but acquiesces before it can turn into a pout-off. It’s too early in the morning for a sad Harry.
“Fine,” he whines. “How deep are we going here? Do you want all my deepest, darkest secrets from the start?” Louis bats his eyelashes up at Harry for maximum confusion, because he’d learned long ago that everyone stumbled a little when he acted coy.
Harry goes a little cross-eyed trying to stay focused on Louis and the conversation at hand, rather than swan-diving into a place filled with fluttering eyelashes and soft touches and violin music. It’s so endearing that Louis feels his heart beat a little faster, knowing he’s got this boy in his life for as long as he wants.
It’s a scary feeling, that sudden acceptance of permanence. When it’s so easy to deflect and disconnect and dissemble, you never have to think about whether the other person is going to stay. Louis has always been good at keeping his distance from people, whether it’s his girlfriend Hannah or his best friend Stan. He loves them, they’re great, but he’s not permanently bonded with them. He knows that what he has with Hannah is - well, mostly a lie.
“I want whatever you need to tell someone, Lou.”
Louis doesn’t know how or why Harry’s so in tune with him, but those words give him courage. “I - Haz?”
“Yeah, Lou?”
“I don’t love Hannah. I don’t even like her enough to be dating her. She’s lovely and wonderful and makes me laugh but I don’t feel anything other than that, y’know? And I think - I think it might be because she’s a girl and maybeidon’tlikegirlslikethat.” He’s said it all in one breath like he’s afraid he’ll never get the guts to say it again.
Harry tugs Louis’ body in closer, cocooning him in warmth and love. His breathing is slow and steady. He doesn’t say anything, just holds Louis tight for a few moments. He lets out a breathy sigh that ruffles Louis’ hair and that’s it, Louis has to move.
He wriggles his way out of Harry’s grasp to bound about the room a little. “You gonna tell me your secret now, Haz? Come on!” His voice is just whiny enough that it makes Harry feel bad about not wanting to tell him, but then he thinks about how good it could be if he does, and then about all the ways the other boys could react, and it’s spiralling out of control in his brain.
He opens his mouth to speak, only to discover that he’s become a kitten again. Louis giggles gleefully before scooping him up in his arms.
“Jesus, Haz, what’s got you so worked up? It’s a good thing you’re cute like this.”