as loud as lions (3/3). harry/louis, pg-13.
See header post for more details.
( 1/3) ( 2/3)
Harry heads back to London that evening, but he's not particularly looking forward to it. He doesn't know which Louis will be there to greet him. It's the longest they've been apart in-ages, Harry can't even remember, and they've probably never even gone more than a day without being in contact with each other since they first met. But Harry didn't want to call, because whenever he and Louis fall out about something it's always Louis who offers the olive branch, regardless of who was in the wrong. It's always up to Louis when they make up. If Harry apologises first, even if Louis's already forgiven him he'll stubbornly leave it for a while before apologising back, and he'll always swing it to make it seem like it was his idea in the first place. Harry doesn't mind exactly, because he understands why Louis does it. It's just a matter of being in control, a way for him to feel like no one has any power over his emotions but himself.
So Harry hasn't called. He's talked to Zayn and Niall a bit, and asked for the news from them-heard that Louis's been in touch sparingly and mostly stayed in, and Harry isn't surprised, but he dreads the thought that, even after five days apart, maybe nothing will have changed after all. Maybe being away from each other won't have made any difference. He doesn't want to go back and find everything the same, but he'd rather that than stay away, of course-he fucking misses Louis more than anything, it feels wrong to have gone without him for so long. He's just so used to hearing the sound of his voice, being able to talk to him and touch him whenever he wants, and the knowledge that the last time they spoke they were shouting at each other weighs heavy on his mind.
He wonders if Louis has forgiven him, wonders if the distance has helped him sort his head out, in the quiet emptiness of their flat, all alone. He wonders if maybe when he gets home, Louis will act like nothing ever happened and it'll all be in the past, or if he'll want to talk it all through. He wishes he could make a guess but it's just so difficult to tell with Louis these days.
He's about halfway home when his mobile rings, and when he glances at it he's so surprised to see that it's Liam that he pulls over immediately. He and Liam haven't really talked for the past few weeks, certainly not one-on-one. It's not anything huge, it just happens that way sometimes; they're close but they're not as close as the others and can cope fine without contact for fairly long periods even if there's no real reason for it. Of course, Harry has to admit there has been a reason lately. And it's silly, because he can't really blame Liam, and yet he always has a little bit. Liam's always seemed like he's on management's side, always used to look disapprovingly at him and Louis when they'd get a little carried away in front of the cameras, and it felt like judgement rather than concern even though Harry knew it wasn't really.
"Hey, is something wrong?" Harry says when he picks up the phone. He doesn't know why he assumes that-Liam could easily be calling for a chat, he often does that if he and Harry have been distant for a while, uncomfortable with letting it go on for too long.
But then Liam says, "Yeah, actually, um-" and Harry's heart leaps into his throat.
"Is it Lou? Is he okay?"
"He's-he's not home," Liam says, uncertainly.
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
"I don't know, Haz," says Liam, and he sounds scared now, and Harry's blood runs cold. "I-I took him out for a few drinks last night and I came by to check on him this morning and he didn't answer the door, and I thought he was just sleeping off a hangover but-you heard about El, right?"
"Yeah," Harry forces out. "Liam, what-"
"Well I was worried, you know, that he might've taken the news badly so I came round again and he still wasn't answering and he wouldn't pick up his phone, and Zayn and Niall didn't know where he was either so I used my emergency key-I'm so sorry, I hope you don't mind, I just thought-"
"No, of course not," Harry says in a rush, because really, like he cares about that right now. The thought of Louis just disappearing like this is making him feel sick to his stomach. What if he's moved out? Just had enough, packed up and left, gone to stay with-with Stan or someone? "Is his stuff missing?" Harry asks urgently.
"S-some of it, yeah," says Liam quietly. "I'm here now and it feels really weird, like he left in a hurry. His-his phone's just lying on his bed and there are clothes missing? But his car is still outside. And I don't, I don't want to panic you, but I rang Jay, and Stan, and Eleanor, and they haven't heard from him either and, I don't know, I thought maybe he'd gone to see you or something, but..." Liam trails off.
Harry is silent for a long time.
"Haz?" Liam asks quietly, the worry evident at the edges of his voice.
"I'm still here," says Harry. "Listen, I'm-I was on my way home but I'm going to turn back, okay? I think he might have gone to the bungalow."
"The bungalow?" Liam echoes, sounding surprised. "Why?"
"I just-I have a feeling." Harry tries to relax, tells himself that's definitely where Louis will be, safe and sound. "I'll let you know, alright? When I get there?"
"Yeah, please," says Liam. "He was okay last night but I think maybe the Eleanor thing really got to him. Still, I didn't think...I wouldn't have thought he'd just...take off."
Harry doesn't really want to dwell on it; he knows he's got another two hours of driving ahead of him for that. "Listen, Liam, I'm gonna set off now," he says.
"Yeah, yeah, of course, sorry, I won't keep you."
"But-thanks, yeah?" Harry swallows. His throat feels dry. "Thanks for letting me know, and for taking him out. I think he really needed that and, I'm sure he appreciated it. And...I do, too."
"It was the least I could do," Liam says meekly, and then, in an even smaller voice, he adds, "I miss you, Haz."
It hits Harry suddenly, his five-day absence, the way they've all been a little distant with each other over the past few weeks, and in a flash he finds himself longing for the way things were before all of this. Maybe he should be thinking back to last month, but his mind takes him even further and he finds himself thinking of the really early days, the five of them splashing about naked in a pool, sleeping on pushed-together airbeds, huddling around a fire. He knew the bungalow was his first thought for a reason.
"Me too, Li," says Harry a little brokenly. His eyes are welling up; the lights of the motorway around him start to blur. Cars slide past him in the night and he blinks a few times to clear the tears. "We'll all do something when Lou and I get back, okay?" He doesn't really give Liam a chance to answer. "I'm gonna go now. I'll text when I get there."
They exchange shaky goodbyes and then Harry's pulling out, driving on 'til he has a chance to turn around, and then heading straight back the way he came. The journey is almost unbearable, just him alone with his thoughts. He stops a few times more to call the bungalow but no one picks up the phone and he hopes and prays that Louis is actually there, because he doesn't even know what he'll do if he's not. He turns the radio up loud but every song reminds him of Louis, and can't drown out his thoughts at all. He gives in, eventually, lets his mind go, and succumbs to the constant nagging of the worries and wonderings.
Harry knew Louis wouldn't react well to the news about Eleanor. Eleanor ensured, in a simple 140 characters, that Louis would no longer have anything to hide behind. He'll have to come out properly now, there isn't really a way around it, and from what management told Harry it didn't sound like they were giving him much of a choice anyway. Harry hates the statement idea, it seems so impersonal, as if they're quietly admitting defeat and slinking out of the ring. At first he thought Louis might be relieved that the onus wasn't on him to announce anything, but of course it's just another event in a long stream that makes him feel like his self-agency is being stripped away. Harry's heart aches. It takes him an hour and forty minutes to get to the bungalow because he speeds for the last part of the journey; the roads are quiet this time of night in the country and he can't stand knowing he's so close and just not there yet.
The key that's usually hidden under the mat outside the back door is missing, and Harry's heart leaps with hope as he presses the bell. But there's nothing. It feels like a long time but it's hard to tell, Harry is bleary from so much driving and the cold November air feels surreal on his skin after being stuck in the stuffy car and he's impatient, ringing again and pounding on the door with his fists and calling out, "Lou, Louis, open up, please, it's me," until finally he sees a blurry shape through the window, growing closer. Harry falls back and the door opens, and he almost sobs with relief when he sees Louis, looking small and pale with a tattered beanie of Harry's pulled over his head.
For a moment they just look at one another; Harry feels like his heart is bursting just seeing him again but Louis looks apprehensive, like he thinks Harry is going to yell at him. And then all Harry can do is fling himself over the threshold and envelop Louis in his arms, the collision of their bodies so forceful it almost hurts, and Harry buries his face into Louis's neck and inhales, smells something sharp and rich like alcohol.
"I'm sorry," says Louis into Harry's shoulder, his voice weak and a little slurred. "I'm so sorry. I was treating you like shit. I know that now, I just-"
"Shut up," says Harry fiercely, grasping him tighter, "just-don't, I don't even care-I was so fucking worried, you scared me to death-"
"I'm sorry," Louis says again, sounding choked.
"Don't," says Harry, clutching at him, breathing him in.
Louis nuzzles into Harry's shoulder, blurts another "Sorry," automatically and then laughs, fighting the urge to apologise, to apologise for apologising, and then Harry is laughing too and they're stumbling, limbs still locked around each other, swaying clumsily.
They part then, but only for a second before they're moving back in to kiss, and Louis's mouth tastes sour but it's him, it's them, and it's been five days, and Harry doesn't want to leave him for that long ever again. He presses him into the counter, kissing him deeply, probably too eager when there are still so many things left unresolved but it's so hard not to and Louis is melting right into it, relieved.
They notice, after a little while, that the door is still standing wide open and moths are beginning to flit into the kitchen. Harry shuts it and traipses after Louis into the living room, where a nearly-empty bottle of red wine stands on the coffee table next to Louis's iPod, headphones tangled and trailing onto the carpet, obviously torn out quickly. It makes Harry feel a little better to realise that Louis might not have been ignoring the phone or the doorbell after all, might just have been too lost in his head and his music until he heard Harry's voice shouting desperately for him.
They fall onto the sofa, cuddling close, Louis's fingers in Harry's hair, and for a while they don't speak again, just needing to catch up on the comfort of touching one another. Harry texts Liam, and Louis pretends not to know what he's doing, obviously feeling guilty and a little embarrassed to think about how much he must have worried everyone by disappearing like that. Harry puts his phone away again and pulls Louis's head into his lap, lets him lie sideways across the sofa.
And then Louis says, in a broken voice, "It's all over, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean-I knew it would be, eventually, I knew it would have to end but I just-I didn't want it to be so soon, it feels like-it feels like we were only just getting started."
"Lou, what are you talking about?" Harry asks. Louis's like this when he's drunk, bad at stringing thoughts together and worse still with sentences, expecting everybody to catch his drift anyway.
"I mean, they're not even letting us do an interview or anything, not letting us explain-it's like that statement is just...the end of things. Like okay, you win."
And now Harry does know what he means; was thinking the exact same thing himself. The way management has handled everything has been such a mess, and Harry knew that all along, but it seems even clearer now that the truth has finally come out. If they'd let them be honest in the first place, it might not have been so bad. Louis wouldn't have been shunned for being a cheater on top of everything, and neither of them would have had to keep on lying. It seems like it'll be so much harder, now, to win back the fans' trust-what reason will they have to believe them now, after all that's happened? They still haven't heard Harry and Louis's story, not really, just official statements and other people's opinions and a tale fed to them by big bosses who think they're doing the right thing and just aren't.
Harry strokes Louis's cheek gently, trailing his fingers over his skin. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to reassure Louis when he has the exact same fears.
"And I just-I know I shouldn't have just vanished like that but I don't think anyone gets it," Louis says then, and it kind of bursts out of him like he's been dying to talk about this for a long time but couldn't find the words until now. "I haven't-I haven't had a say in any of this. It's not like I never wanted it to happen but I wanted it to be on my terms and it's just, it's on everybody else's, and everyone's making all these judgements and decisions and I feel trapped 'cause I can't do anything but go along with it and it's just-it's fucking exhausting, Haz." His voice goes from harsh to soft and helpless, and Harry cradles him closer.
"I know." And that guilt is still there, that reminder that he started all of this off, and he's about to tell Louis again just how sorry he is, but it's like Louis's reading his mind.
"I'm not even mad at you anymore," Louis says, "because I get it now, I get why you did it-you felt like this, like I do now, sick of everybody making your choices for you and taking away that control, and I didn't get it before but it makes sense now and I can't blame you anymore."
"You can," says Harry, smiling a little, "if you want. If it'll make things easier."
"It doesn't, though," Louis says seriously. "Me blaming you was turning everything to shit."
It feels like Louis is being entirely honest with him now, and Harry hope it's not just the alcohol, hopes this is really how Louis feels. It's rare for him to open up like this, to say what he's feeling without hiding behind jokes or lashing out. And when it happens Harry has to be quiet, let it all come from Louis, not push him at all and try and keep it light so that Louis feels he can stop easily when he needs to. He has to leave it up to Louis, how much he's willing to say.
And clearly Louis has reached that point now, because he rolls over, burying his nose in Harry's sweater for a moment, and then says, "Liam punched someone. Did he tell you?"
Harry lets out a surprised bark of laughter at the subject change, and something in it is relief as well, he thinks-it's good for him and Louis to talk this out, but it almost feels better to laugh with him again. "No," he says. "Who did he punch?"
"It's probably going to be in the papers," says Louis, not terribly helpfully. "Did you hear about it?"
"No, Lou," Harry tells him patiently. "Hence the question."
"This paparazzo thought I was cheating on you with him. With Liam. So Liam gave him what for."
"Are you having me on?" Harry asks suspiciously, trying to imagine Liam doing such a thing and really, really struggling.
Louis shakes his head. "Uh-uh. It was pretty impressive actually. I wanna see the pictures." He yawns against Harry's stomach, and Harry gazes down at him, seeing how his eyes are beginning to droop.
"You sleepy?"
"Mm."
"Do you wanna go to bed?"
"No," says Louis, stretching a little and then curling up again. "I wanna sleep here."
And Harry is sitting up, and still in his shoes and coat, and he hasn't eaten anything in hours, and he feels like he's still moving from spending so much time in the car-but then he looks around them, at the bungalow living room in the dim light, the familiar shapes and patterns of it, and he doesn't try and argue. He remembers that the very first time he slept beside Louis it was right here in this room, on pushed-together airbeds, with Zayn's knee digging into his back and Niall sleep-cuddling Louis from his other side while Liam was a little way away from them, trying to keep his limbs to himself, still not yet used to the easy affection of the group. And Harry and Louis had faced each other in the dark, silent and staring and smiling until they'd drifted off, and somehow Harry had known, even back then, that it was the first time of so, so many.
"Okay," says Harry quietly, "let's sleep here," and when he looks down Louis's eyes are already closed, his lips slightly parted, his face looking truly peaceful for the first time in weeks. Harry smiles to himself and leans his head against the back of the sofa, reaching out a hand to rest on Louis's chest and feel the soft thud of his heartbeat against his palm.
***
Louis wakes up with Harry gazing down at him, and he startles. "Oi," he grumbles, "you always watch me when I'm sleeping, it's creepy."
"You're moving too fast the rest of the time," Harry says, grinning. "When you're asleep is one of the rare chances I get."
Louis makes a face at him and then rolls over. His brain feels like it's trying to get out of his skull. He groans. "Fuck, my head hurts."
"You drank a lot," Harry says, but without judgement. "My neck hurts," he adds, bringing a hand up to rub at it as he rolls his head back and forth, grimacing.
"Sorry," says Louis guiltily.
"No, no more apologies."
"None? What, ever? What if I set the bungalow on fire while I'm making you breakfast?"
Harry's lips curl into a smile. "You're gonna make me breakfast?"
"I'm gonna try," says Louis, and then remembers that it's highly unlikely that there are any eggs or bacon in the house. "...Maybe just cereal."
"Not much fire involved there," Harry teases him, and then prods him in the cheek. "Get up, I think my entire lap's gone numb."
They spend the day just relaxing, reconnecting. There isn't much food in the house, just a couple of old ready meals in the freezer and some tins in the pantry, but neither of them want to walk down to the corner shop-it feels so good to finally be alone, away from everything, just the two of them in their own little world without all the chaos. Louis finds that he doesn't even want to check the internet to find out the reaction to management's statement; he just doesn't want to know. A part of him wishes they could just stay here for a few months, living off tomato soup and frozen lasagne and Robin's wine until everything dies down.
They shower together and have a nap in the afternoon, neither of them very well-rested after last night. During the day they keep the conversation light but in the evening Harry asks Louis what he wants the plan to be, when he wants to leave, reminds him gently that they can't stay here forever.
"I was thinking maybe we should insist on doing an interview or something," Harry suggests, and Louis can tell he's being very casual with the idea, not wanting to make Louis feel like he's pushing him into it. "Just like, get the whole story out there, show everybody our perspective. Our version of events."
Louis smiles. He actually likes that idea, a lot. He doesn't know if they'll be allowed, but he definitely wants to try, because it's not fair, the idea of them never being allowed to explain this in their own words. And what's it going to be like at the signing they've got coming up, if they still haven't said anything for themselves? The thought makes the anxiety flare up again, as he imagines streams of fans demanding answers to their questions.
They talk about it, decide that they want the others to be there with them to give their side of the story as well, and that it'd be best to talk to a gay magazine to make sure they're portrayed sympathetically. Louis already feels so much better just discussing it, because it feels like they're finally doing something at last, taking things into their own hands, and it feels like they might be able to salvage this after all.
It's late by the time the conversation winds down and so they go to bed, deciding to call PR in the morning, and tonight they go into the bedroom, remind themselves just how happy they can make each other and how well they know each other's bodies. It's been so long since they've touched like this; ever since everything blew up it's been a desperate thing, for comfort and reassurance or simple distraction, or even a way to work out their anger and the tension between them. It hasn't been like this, slow and content, like they have all the time in the world.
In the morning Harry calls their nicest publicist, Pippa, and explains what they want while Louis sits beside him and listens with his head on his shoulder. Harry is very mature and sensible with it, not letting himself get too emotional in case that means he'll be taken less seriously-but he does tell her quite honestly how much damage he thinks management's approach could do in the long run, and the problems it's already caused. Pippa is sympathetic and says she'll see what she can do, and Harry makes it clear that if the answer is no, they may well go ahead and do it anyway. Louis smiles at him, surprised, when he says that, proud of Harry's courage and determination, and it works. It works. Pippa calls them back to tell them there's an interview set up with Attitude magazine in a few days, and tells them wryly that they'd better come back to London in time for it.
They leave the bungalow then, ready to face the world again, and drive back home singing along to the radio and stopping at a KFC for lunch. The services are mostly empty and Louis feels safe taking Harry's hand as they walk in, and he forces himself to fight the urge to let go when people look at them, tries to stare them down defiantly the way Harry does with such ease. A couple of people ask for photos-one of them doesn't even mention any of the recent drama and the other just says quietly that she's so sorry for what they've been going through lately.
"Guess that statement can't have been too awful," Harry laughs as they head back to the car.
"They're probably all just relieved I'm not really a cheater," Louis chuckles.
Back at the flats, they go over to Zayn's for a movie night with the others, and it feels better than it should, perhaps, for something so simple and familiar. The five of them drink beer (even Liam has a little) and sprawl all over each other and don't talk about anything serious whatsoever, and it just feels so good. Louis has this urge to thank Zayn and Liam and Niall, for standing by him and Harry in constant quiet support and always being there when they're needed, but he doesn't want to say it out loud, doesn't want to turn the situation too serious when it's so relaxed. He thinks that this is enough anyway, this return to their own version of normality. They've been too caught up in the turmoil of everything else to even realise how much they've missed it, but they're eager for it now, melting into each other on Zayn's sofa, their reunion somehow frantic and peaceful at the same time.
***
The interview goes even better than Harry expected. The journalist, Dave, is close to their age, friendly and understanding, and he's followed the story so far so he knows what he's talking about. He doesn't pry, but he doesn't shy away from any of the important questions, and he gives them plenty of time to speak and to steer the conversation when they want to.
"First things first then, lads," he says as they settle on the sofa in front of him, "how long have you been together?"
Harry reaches out and take Louis's hand. "Pretty much since we were on X Factor," he says, interlocking their fingers, and Louis gives him a little grateful squeeze, the physical contact making him relax a bit more. "Like, not officially," Harry adds, "but that's when things kind of started. We always say we've basically been together since we met, in one way or another."
"Love at first sight?" smiles Dave.
Louis groans. "Don't put it like that, it'll sound so soppy."
"It is soppy," interjects Liam. The others are all sitting round a table on the other side of the room, getting on with their own stuff, mostly just here for moral support.
"You were all over each other from day one," Niall chips in.
"Bringing them was a mistake," Louis mutters to Harry, but he's kidding, grinning away.
Dave tries to get things back on track, but he's clearly kind of charmed by them all. "So it was a management decision to have you appear with girlfriends, right?"
Louis nods, shifting uncomfortably. Harry knows before he answers that he's going to be a little evasive here-he hasn't spoken to Eleanor since she announced the truth, and even though it's turning out to have been a good move, Louis still hasn't forgiven her just yet. Harry's not sure if he will. The two of them were good friends, but Harry couldn't really imagine them hanging out under different circumstances.
"Yeah," says Louis. "I mean, we're not going to put all the blame on our management, that wouldn't be fair, 'cause weren't actually forced into anything. We agreed to go along with it because we were told it was best for our career. I wasn't happy about it-I hated having to lie to everybody-but El and I got on well and it just seemed...necessary, I guess." He's gone a little solemn, and there's a slight pause. Then he nudges Harry with his elbow and adds, "Harry put up a bit more of a fight though."
Harry laughs, not minding that Louis wants to take the pressure off himself for a moment. "Yeah, they mostly just had to vaguely link me with women in the tabloids," he says, "I was less willing to actually date them."
"He's a rebel," Zayn jokes.
"But there was one woman," says Dave, "I'm sorry, you must have thought this was all in the past now, but I'm sure everybody's dying to know-what about Caroline Flack?"
Harry smiles. He was expecting her name to come up. "We were just really good friends," he says, and the boys all hoot with laughter hearing him say that sentence for what feels like the hundredth time, but in such a different context now. "People started misinterpreting our relationship, and it was decided that might not actually be a bad thing...for both of us, you know."
"Turned out better for you than her, though," Louis points out mischievously.
"Yeah, the reaction to that really made management nervous," says Harry, serious. "I don't think anyone expected the public to be so like...disrespectful about it, and it made us all think, if that's how they react to this, how would they react to the truth, you know?"
Dave nods, listening intently. They're not actually allowed to say too much about all the lies and cover-ups, because they've already exposed a lot about how the industry works and how dishonest it is, and management isn't exactly pleased about that. But it makes so much more sense to do it this way, at least as far as Harry is concerned, because it doesn't actually matter that much if management comes off badly. The supportive fans have had issues with them from the start anyway, and this way Harry and Louis's relationship is shown for exactly what it is: two people who just love each other, in an industry that won't allow it.
So Harry says, "There really is a lot going on under the surface, hidden from the public. And we don't want the fans to blame us, but we don't want them to turn against management either-like, this hasn't been handled in the best way-" Niall snorts and Harry shoots him a glare, but he can't help but smile; it feels so much better having the guys here to lighten the mood, "-but it's not any one person's fault. It's society's fault. And that's why it's so important to me that we really stand up and talk about this, because hardly anyone does, and nothing's going to change if we all keep quiet."
Dave nods vehemently at that. "Of course, absolutely," he agrees. "Would you say that you've been ready to come out for a long time? It seemed from that initial BBC Breakfast incident that the frustration had been building for a while."
"Yeah," says Harry. "Quite a while, yeah. It was kind of a problem, because it wasn't just that we weren't allowed to. Louis wasn't ready. And I never would've-like, if I'd been thinking, I never would've said anything, because the way I did it was just-"
"Dumb," Zayn cuts in helpfully.
"Thanks, Zayn," says Harry flatly, and the interviewer chuckles. "No, but it was pretty dumb. It was just the pressure of the whole situation, you know. We're under so much scrutiny that we had to make so much effort to hide, and that just..."
"It gets to you after a while," Louis says. "Like, I'm not gonna act like I was fine with it, but I do understand now. I mean, I was frustrated too. We couldn't even go out for dinner together without arriving and leaving separately, and hiding out in private rooms. We both felt really like, trapped. But Harry especially."
Dave nods. "And what's-if you don't mind me asking, how would you define your sexuality, Harry?"
"Uh," says Harry, "I kind of don't, really, but I guess if I had to put a label on it-and society kind of says that we have to-I'd say I'm pansexual."
"Except that no one knows what that means," Liam calls from the other side of the room, and Harry rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, I was told to say I'm bisexual just to make it easier to understand, but like-I think a lot of people do that, and it doesn't make much sense because no one ever will understand if no one talks about it."
"It's just attraction regardless of gender, right?" Dave checks.
Harry nods, and then turns to look at Liam. "See, Li, not that complicated." Liam makes a face at him.
"And...Louis?" says Dave. He says it in a way that suggests he kind of already knows, which Harry supposes makes sense-there's always been a bit of speculation, and rumours in the journalism world, and now that the truth about Eleanor has been revealed it seems like people are just kind of connecting the dots.
Louis nods, squeezing Harry's hand just slightly. "I'm gay, yeah," he says, looking Dave in the eye, and Harry's heart swells with pride at the bravery of it, hearing him say it to this stranger without missing a beat.
There's a brief moment of silence, and Harry expects Louis to make a joke or something but it's actually Dave who cuts the tension, saying "Me too!" and reaching out for a high-five, giving Louis a goofy grin. They all laugh and Harry can feel Louis relax beside him, hand going looser in his.
"Sorry. That was probably unprofessional," says Dave, still laughing, shaking his head. "Right," he checks his notepad, "and when did you both become aware of your sexual preference?"
"I just kind of always knew, really," says Harry with a shrug. "It's hard for me to like, pinpoint it, because I never had a moment of, you know, oh my god, I like boys, or...it was just kind of always there. I never had that big revelation."
"I did," says Louis quietly. "I pretty much had no idea 'til I met Harry. I just never questioned it."
Dave nods sympathetically. "Do you think that could be why you've struggled a little more?" he asks. "Sorry, if that's too much of a sensitive subject-"
"No, it's okay," says Louis, and Harry can't help but be surprised-the interviewer even gave him a way out and he chose not to take it. "I mean, yeah, definitely. I hadn't really had a lot of time to come to terms with it just like, in myself, and suddenly it was something we had to talk about with all our bosses, and I mean-of course there were a lot of sensible reasons behind their decisions but it always felt a bit like the subtext of it all was like, you know..."
"Like, 'your sexuality is a problem,'" Harry cuts in, seeing that Louis's not sure if he should say it. "Which is obviously gonna like, have an effect, if you've only just realised you're gay yourself, you know? I think a lot of people didn't really understand that. Like, people who sort of suspected all along or whatever, they just wanted Lou to come out-they wanted us both to come out. Which, I mean, I think that's fair in some ways, because it's frustrating to think you're being lied to, and in our like...age demographic or whatever, there really isn't enough representation of anyone who's not straight in the media."
"Very true," says Dave. "And, you've brought up something else I was going to ask about, there-a lot of your fans do feel like they knew, don't they? It's interesting, there was a lot of speculation long before anything came of it, and I hate to bring up 'Larry Stylinson' at this point, but-"
Louis laughs. "We knew it was coming."
"I'm predictable," Dave shrugs, grinning. "But did that help, at all, to know that so much of your fanbase supported your relationship? Even before they knew it was a relationship? Or did it all feel like a bit of a joke?"
"Kind of a combination of the two, really," says Harry. "Obviously it was better to have people talking about it positively than negatively, but yeah, we could never really tell how serious it was. We did come across some discussion on the internet between people who were absolutely convinced and that was-"
"Disconcerting," Liam cuts in, and Louis throws a cushion at him.
"But it was a good way to like, try and work out how people might react when we finally told the truth," Harry goes on. "It was so hard to tell, you know, beforehand. I mean, that's why management was so scared-the uncertainty combined with the level of our success, it could have been a total disaster."
"And how do you feel about the actual fan reaction?"
"Well, it hasn't been a total disaster," says Louis. He does seem to be slipping into jokes whenever he feels a little uncomfortable, Harry notices, but there isn't that undercurrent of bitterness or self-deprecation that there was before, it's just Louis being Louis and he's handling this all so brilliantly. Harry kind of just wants to kiss him right now and tell him how well he's doing, and he tries to quash that urge and listen to what Louis's saying instead. "It's been difficult. A lot of our fans are really young and just don't quite understand the whole issue, and..."
"And I suppose a lot of them believed they were going to birth your children one day," chuckles Dave. "But there's been support, right?"
"Yeah, definitely," says Harry. It seems right to take over from Louis here. Louis still hasn't had as much experience of the supportive fans as he has; he's mostly just seen Tweets and fanmail and Harry knows he finds that difficult to connect with. It's seeing someone's face that makes it real, hearing their voice. "Yeah, every time someone tells us what a difference we've made, like, that we've made them feel more comfortable with themselves, that's just-I mean, you can't beat that. That's the point, really, of everything."
"Harry gets emotional about it," Louis says conspiratorially to Dave, but Harry can tell he's just feeling a little uneasy with the topic, knowing how much more he's focused on the backlash than anything else.
"It's hard not to, to be fair," Liam adds, and they look over at him, see that he's turned around in his chair to listen now and talk to the interviewer. "I mean, I get emotional about it too sometimes. Like even just reading through the positive Tweets it's like-I don't know, I guess it's because the three of us have been with them from the start and seen their relationship grow, it's something that's so important to us and to see people accepting them and standing up for them is great." Dave nods, and there's a slight pause in which Liam looks sheepishly at Harry and Louis. "Sorry. I'm just hijacking your interview here."
"No, it's fine," says Dave. "I wanted to get a word from you lot, actually because you have kind of a unique perspective. You've been there from the start like you said, but you're also still outsiders at the same time."
"Yeah," says Niall. "It's been really difficult, because obviously all we've wanted is for them to be happy-"
"Awwwww, Niall," Louis coos, and Niall chucks the cushion Louis threw at Liam right back at him.
"-but there's been, you know, so much drama obviously."
"Yeah, it's just something we've had to be really aware of, like, constantly, you know-making sure it was kept secret, always keeping an eye out for cameras and stuff," Zayn joins in. Then he pauses for a moment, considering things. "Actually, it's gonna be such a relief not to have to do that anymore."
"I was thinking that," laughs Liam.
After the interview the five of them go out for a meal and drinks, to celebrate. They get a private room in the restaurant so that no one will bother them, and stay for hours, and Harry hasn't seen Louis this happy in such a long time. It's like a real weight has been lifted, he is free and relaxed and maybe it's just the alcohol and the high of finally telling the truth, but Harry feels like they can face anything now, like they can take on the world if they have to.
Their issue of Attitude comes out a few days before the signing, and it's so popular that by the time they sidle down to WH Smith to get a copy for themselves, they've all sold out. They bump into a girl on their way back who's just bought it, and she's reading as she walks, winding a jagged path down the pavement. When she spots them she's so startled and overcome that she looks like she might cry, holding back the tears while they sign the magazine for her.
It's just a small taste of what's to come-the signing is absolutely full of such occurrences. Louis says he thinks he's autographing more copies of Attitude than their album or DVD. There are still a lot of people who don't mention it, a few girls who are giggly to the point of seeming a little malicious and the occasional muttered insult, but Harry won't let it go ignored and-to his pride-the others don't either. He hears Zayn giving one girl a quiet talking-to, and even Liam, who usually has a constant beam plastered across his face during signings, staunchly refuses to sign a copy of the magazine that has rude commentary scribbled all over it.
So many people offer their support, though, and it's hard not to get emotional themselves when the boys come up to the table-more boys than they've ever had at any signing before-the shyer ones just giving grateful smiles, the more confident ones letting Harry and Louis know exactly how much they've helped them, made them feel like they're not alone. Harry squeezes Louis's hand, seeing how he's trying to keep his cool about the whole thing and be casual, but afterwards when they're back home he's dazed with it, overwhelmed. Harry is so thrilled that he finally sees, sees how wonderful this is, what a difference they've made. It doesn't mean it's going to be easy from here on out but it's getting better, so much better, and Harry's just glad that Louis knows that now, understands the good in this.
***
They hear through the grapevine that a significant number of people decided to sell on their MSG tickets after the news first broke. It's crushing, but apparently the tickets barely stayed on sale for any time at all, were all snatched up almost instantly until all the seats were filled again. Management has tried to keep it from them, not wanting them to be discouraged by the news, and that seems fair because Louis can't help but let it bother him-knowing how many people didn't even want to come see their concert anymore just because he and Harry are together. But he reminds himself that for every fan they've lost, they've probably gained a new one, and that the fans that have stayed with them are the ones who really matter.
"Don't want homophobes for fans, anyway," as Harry puts it. "I'd rather every single person in that arena is happy that I love you."
As they gear up for the concert, Louis gets more and more nervous. Harry keeps telling him to remember the signing and how well that went, but there's a difference-talking to the fans one-on-one is easier somehow than facing them in an enormous crowd, and he keeps having stupid anxiety dreams where they're greeted with booing instead of the usual cheering and screaming as soon as they step onto the stage.
He's still not completely comfortable with behaving like a couple with Harry in public, too-not because he's ashamed but because it just feels so strange, after so long of consciously hiding it, to be allowed to walk down the street holding hands and to know that they've already dealt with most of the fallout. Sometimes Harry will fumble with Louis's hand for a moment like he used to, when he'd reach for it in front of people and then catch himself, and sometimes Louis will flinch away on instinct, but they laugh about it, knowing it's simply habit. Louis still feels uneasy with the amount of focus that's on their relationship, though, the media talking freely about them as a couple now where only Sugarscape used to, and even then only when they could keep it hidden behind jokes.
And Harry gets carried away sometimes-well, they both do, they always have, but Harry is worse onstage, caught up in the adrenaline. Louis can't help but worry that he'll go further than Louis is comfortable with, and he wants to say something but he doesn't want to hurt Harry, doesn't want to say don't kiss me in front of everyone, okay? because it sounds so awful. He just hopes that they're on the same page instead, and Harry does seem a bit nervous too-they all are-because there's so much pressure anyway, this being the biggest concert they've ever done, on top of everything else.
There's another blow when they arrive at the venue on the night. They're on their way when Paul gets a call telling them to avoid the front of the building if they can, because there's a protest going on outside. Some Christian group, apparently, mostly older women who don't want anyone's teenage daughters (or sons, for that matter) going to see a boyband if two of its members are a couple. Harry just scoffs, staying strong.
"The fans'll be fighting back against those idiots as we speak," he says confidently. "I bet you anything."
Liam is worrying his bottom lip, peering out the window for the rest of the journey even though they're nowhere near yet, like he's on the lookout.
"Don't know what you're gonna do if you spot any stray protesters anyway, Li," says Zayn, nudging him in the ribs. "Spit your gum out at them?"
"And then apologise right away, most likely," Harry adds with a grin.
Louis laughs but it's feeble and he's distracted, thinking about how there's enough people who have a problem with his and Harry's relationship that they can form an entire protest about it, make signs and stand outside the arena for hours, trying to discourage people from going in. And what if it works? What if they scare everybody away?
Harry links fingers with him, and Louis nestles their hands together gratefully, but he can't make himself join in the conversation that Niall's starting in an attempt to take everyone's minds off the issue. When Louis is worried he goes quiet. He can yell or cry or fake enthusiasm if he's stressed or upset, but worry makes him just sink into himself, tune out, and the others all know that by now because it's one of the rare behaviours he has that's actually predictable.
They have to swing round the side of the building to get to the stage door, so they don't pass the entrance directly, but they can still see the crowds outside the front. Louis only catches a glimpse and then suddenly Harry's hand is over his eyes, and a part of him really wants to look but he trusts him, lets his eyelids close under Harry's palm as he takes a deep breath.
"Doesn't look that different to anywhere else we've played at," Harry says.
"Yeah, just looks like people queuing up waiting for the doors to open," Niall adds, trying to sound cheery.
"It's not, though," Louis says in a small voice, and as they turn the corner Harry takes his hand off Louis's face and snuggles into him, kissing his neck in reassurance.
Louis's not sure he's ever felt more on edge. It's even worse than before the interviews, because this feels like it's really make or break now. If they go out there and their audience rejects them, that's it. He's not sure they could ever recover from that. And before, he could tell himself those thoughts were ridiculous, but now, with a protest going on outside, it doesn't actually seem that implausible. It doesn't help that he can sense the others' unease, either. He kind of shuts down, all through soundcheck and while they're getting dressed-he goes through the motions but his brain's not there, knotted up with nerves, and whenever anyone tries to talk to him he just wants them to stop because he can't focus on what they're saying, too preoccupied with his anxiety.
By the time they're about to go on he's already half-convinced himself that they're going to be greeted by an empty stadium, and he's lost sight of whether that's a rational fear or not.
But then they get closer, and they hear that familiar sound, the excited screams of the fans waiting for them and counting down. They grin stupid relieved grins at each other and when Louis holds his breath and runs out onto the stage with the others, the joyful shrieking only gets louder. It makes him feel like his heart is going to burst; he's never been so happy to hear that ear-splitting noise.
There are usually banners about him and Harry but tonight it seems like the crowd is full of them. The silly Larry Stylinson ones mean so much now, and he feels suddenly overwhelmed at the realisation that so many of their fans have supported their relationship right from the start, that not all of them treated it as an amusing exaggeration, that some of these people knew even before they were told, and stood by them every step of the way.
He tries to gather himself together but it's a struggle, especially when they start singing. He can't focus on the lyrics because there's too much going on, out there in the crowd and right here in his head and his heart. He can't take his eyes off Harry, so caught up in this, in the openness of it, something he never imagined himself being able to fully enjoy. He keeps trying to look away from Harry, to sing out to the fans instead, but he can't help it and Harry is grinning like a fool and gazing right back at him. Niall makes a comment into his mic between songs about how everyone's just going to have to put up with the "lovesick puppies" and the crowd goes fucking wild.
They try to keep a bit of distance between them, though, more aware of their interactions than usual. Louis thinks of all the times they've whispered to each other onstage, exchanged subtle touches, that time Harry kissed him on the cheek in Brisbane in April, and he wonders how they could be so obvious when now it feels like these little glances are the most blatant thing in the world. But there's something about it, something about putting his love on display like this, that feels good-not just a relief, but a pleasure, as well. He loves Harry and he's proud of it, why shouldn't these people get to see that?
When they get to More Than This, Harry comes a little closer to him, hovers nearby as Louis's verse approaches. He's so hyperaware of Harry beside him that it's even harder to concentrate on singing and he's sure his voice is wavering. Harry ducks behind him and Louis tries to keep his voice under control, wondering what Harry's doing and why he's trying to distract him, especially during this solo which he always gets kind of insecure about anyway-and then he feels Harry's arms wrapping around him from behind. He does it just as Louis sings "...in his arms, I get weak," and then Louis can barely sing his next line at all, laughing, leaning back against the warm strong feel of Harry's body holding him. Harry's chin is hooked over his shoulder and Louis relaxes into his arms, not even caring if it looks like he's swooning. Zayn is so busy laughing at them that he almost misses the intro of his own verse.
After that, they can't really stop looking at each other, and Louis doesn't even let himself worry about what if every show is going to be like this from now on, what if they get too fixated on each other and the others get sidelined-because it doesn't matter right now, tonight is what matters, the freedom and the joy of it, nothing else.
They do Stole My Heart for the encore, which they're all a little unsure about because they don't usually play it live, but Harry breaks the tension when-to everyone's surprise-he changes the lyrics in his verse, sings "It took a minute, boy, to steal my heart tonight," with a knowing grin on his face. The audience goes crazy, frantically checking with each other, did he really say that? and Louis sees Liam throw up his hands but he can tell the whole despairing thing is an act-Liam's grinning just as wide as the rest of them.
"Been waiting for a boy like you," Harry sings, beaming, and he does it with every one of his verses, again and again, pointing at Louis and unable to wipe the smile off his face. It's almost too much but Louis can't help but love it, the ridiculous romance of it and the statement. He loves him so much it hurts. All the time, really, but especially right now. His heart feels too big for his body, hammering against his ribcage, and it's no longer just because of nerves.
The song comes to an end and the boys all slip into place in a row, arms around one another for their bow-but Louis feels like his heart is going to beat right out of him as soon as Harry's hand settles on his hip and he's dizzy and smitten and before he even really knows what he's doing he's pulling Harry into his arms. He means for it to be a hug, maybe, but somewhere along the way their lips meet and Harry makes a surprised little noise and smiles against his mouth and then that's it, they're kissing, in front of twenty thousand people. The boys are laughing and shaking their heads and the audience is screaming deafeningly and making sure they're getting this on their cameras, and Louis doesn't even care. Let it be all over Youtube by tomorrow morning. Fucking let it.
They break apart, stumbling a little, and Louis tries to recover from it but he can't, all he can do is stare at Harry's face, the way it's lit up like that, gorgeous and stunned and thrilled. Liam clears his throat, says something to the crowd that sounds like "Er, please excuse them," along with an awkward laugh. Louis finally manages to tear himself away from Harry in order to pounce on Liam, tickling him and making him squeak into his mic and then drop it on the floor when the others join them instantly in a clumsy group hug, limbs everywhere.
Over all the noise around them, Louis hears Zayn say, "You idiots."
And maybe he has a point, because okay, they might be out now, but they're not sure how public their displays of affection are actually allowed to be and you can't get much more public than this. Zayn's voice is fond, though, and Niall is ruffling Harry's hair, and Louis hears himself force out, "Couldn't help it," as he pulls Harry closer.
They cling to each other, and their tight huddle seems so small, centre stage in this vast stadium, just five boys feeling like they're being watched by the whole world. They can't ignore the crowd; that constant screaming always demands to be heard. It's a sound that's followed them for more than two years, but Louis doesn't think it's ever symbolised support quite as much as it does right now. He buries his face in Harry's neck, his cheeks flushed hot as he tries to hide his smile.
And then he realises there's no reason to hide it. He can show everybody just how happy he is, without shame, and maybe they've still got hard times ahead of them but-here, in this moment? There's just blissful relief.
End. (Psst, fanmix.)
( 1/3) ( 2/3)
Harry heads back to London that evening, but he's not particularly looking forward to it. He doesn't know which Louis will be there to greet him. It's the longest they've been apart in-ages, Harry can't even remember, and they've probably never even gone more than a day without being in contact with each other since they first met. But Harry didn't want to call, because whenever he and Louis fall out about something it's always Louis who offers the olive branch, regardless of who was in the wrong. It's always up to Louis when they make up. If Harry apologises first, even if Louis's already forgiven him he'll stubbornly leave it for a while before apologising back, and he'll always swing it to make it seem like it was his idea in the first place. Harry doesn't mind exactly, because he understands why Louis does it. It's just a matter of being in control, a way for him to feel like no one has any power over his emotions but himself.
So Harry hasn't called. He's talked to Zayn and Niall a bit, and asked for the news from them-heard that Louis's been in touch sparingly and mostly stayed in, and Harry isn't surprised, but he dreads the thought that, even after five days apart, maybe nothing will have changed after all. Maybe being away from each other won't have made any difference. He doesn't want to go back and find everything the same, but he'd rather that than stay away, of course-he fucking misses Louis more than anything, it feels wrong to have gone without him for so long. He's just so used to hearing the sound of his voice, being able to talk to him and touch him whenever he wants, and the knowledge that the last time they spoke they were shouting at each other weighs heavy on his mind.
He wonders if Louis has forgiven him, wonders if the distance has helped him sort his head out, in the quiet emptiness of their flat, all alone. He wonders if maybe when he gets home, Louis will act like nothing ever happened and it'll all be in the past, or if he'll want to talk it all through. He wishes he could make a guess but it's just so difficult to tell with Louis these days.
He's about halfway home when his mobile rings, and when he glances at it he's so surprised to see that it's Liam that he pulls over immediately. He and Liam haven't really talked for the past few weeks, certainly not one-on-one. It's not anything huge, it just happens that way sometimes; they're close but they're not as close as the others and can cope fine without contact for fairly long periods even if there's no real reason for it. Of course, Harry has to admit there has been a reason lately. And it's silly, because he can't really blame Liam, and yet he always has a little bit. Liam's always seemed like he's on management's side, always used to look disapprovingly at him and Louis when they'd get a little carried away in front of the cameras, and it felt like judgement rather than concern even though Harry knew it wasn't really.
"Hey, is something wrong?" Harry says when he picks up the phone. He doesn't know why he assumes that-Liam could easily be calling for a chat, he often does that if he and Harry have been distant for a while, uncomfortable with letting it go on for too long.
But then Liam says, "Yeah, actually, um-" and Harry's heart leaps into his throat.
"Is it Lou? Is he okay?"
"He's-he's not home," Liam says, uncertainly.
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
"I don't know, Haz," says Liam, and he sounds scared now, and Harry's blood runs cold. "I-I took him out for a few drinks last night and I came by to check on him this morning and he didn't answer the door, and I thought he was just sleeping off a hangover but-you heard about El, right?"
"Yeah," Harry forces out. "Liam, what-"
"Well I was worried, you know, that he might've taken the news badly so I came round again and he still wasn't answering and he wouldn't pick up his phone, and Zayn and Niall didn't know where he was either so I used my emergency key-I'm so sorry, I hope you don't mind, I just thought-"
"No, of course not," Harry says in a rush, because really, like he cares about that right now. The thought of Louis just disappearing like this is making him feel sick to his stomach. What if he's moved out? Just had enough, packed up and left, gone to stay with-with Stan or someone? "Is his stuff missing?" Harry asks urgently.
"S-some of it, yeah," says Liam quietly. "I'm here now and it feels really weird, like he left in a hurry. His-his phone's just lying on his bed and there are clothes missing? But his car is still outside. And I don't, I don't want to panic you, but I rang Jay, and Stan, and Eleanor, and they haven't heard from him either and, I don't know, I thought maybe he'd gone to see you or something, but..." Liam trails off.
Harry is silent for a long time.
"Haz?" Liam asks quietly, the worry evident at the edges of his voice.
"I'm still here," says Harry. "Listen, I'm-I was on my way home but I'm going to turn back, okay? I think he might have gone to the bungalow."
"The bungalow?" Liam echoes, sounding surprised. "Why?"
"I just-I have a feeling." Harry tries to relax, tells himself that's definitely where Louis will be, safe and sound. "I'll let you know, alright? When I get there?"
"Yeah, please," says Liam. "He was okay last night but I think maybe the Eleanor thing really got to him. Still, I didn't think...I wouldn't have thought he'd just...take off."
Harry doesn't really want to dwell on it; he knows he's got another two hours of driving ahead of him for that. "Listen, Liam, I'm gonna set off now," he says.
"Yeah, yeah, of course, sorry, I won't keep you."
"But-thanks, yeah?" Harry swallows. His throat feels dry. "Thanks for letting me know, and for taking him out. I think he really needed that and, I'm sure he appreciated it. And...I do, too."
"It was the least I could do," Liam says meekly, and then, in an even smaller voice, he adds, "I miss you, Haz."
It hits Harry suddenly, his five-day absence, the way they've all been a little distant with each other over the past few weeks, and in a flash he finds himself longing for the way things were before all of this. Maybe he should be thinking back to last month, but his mind takes him even further and he finds himself thinking of the really early days, the five of them splashing about naked in a pool, sleeping on pushed-together airbeds, huddling around a fire. He knew the bungalow was his first thought for a reason.
"Me too, Li," says Harry a little brokenly. His eyes are welling up; the lights of the motorway around him start to blur. Cars slide past him in the night and he blinks a few times to clear the tears. "We'll all do something when Lou and I get back, okay?" He doesn't really give Liam a chance to answer. "I'm gonna go now. I'll text when I get there."
They exchange shaky goodbyes and then Harry's pulling out, driving on 'til he has a chance to turn around, and then heading straight back the way he came. The journey is almost unbearable, just him alone with his thoughts. He stops a few times more to call the bungalow but no one picks up the phone and he hopes and prays that Louis is actually there, because he doesn't even know what he'll do if he's not. He turns the radio up loud but every song reminds him of Louis, and can't drown out his thoughts at all. He gives in, eventually, lets his mind go, and succumbs to the constant nagging of the worries and wonderings.
Harry knew Louis wouldn't react well to the news about Eleanor. Eleanor ensured, in a simple 140 characters, that Louis would no longer have anything to hide behind. He'll have to come out properly now, there isn't really a way around it, and from what management told Harry it didn't sound like they were giving him much of a choice anyway. Harry hates the statement idea, it seems so impersonal, as if they're quietly admitting defeat and slinking out of the ring. At first he thought Louis might be relieved that the onus wasn't on him to announce anything, but of course it's just another event in a long stream that makes him feel like his self-agency is being stripped away. Harry's heart aches. It takes him an hour and forty minutes to get to the bungalow because he speeds for the last part of the journey; the roads are quiet this time of night in the country and he can't stand knowing he's so close and just not there yet.
The key that's usually hidden under the mat outside the back door is missing, and Harry's heart leaps with hope as he presses the bell. But there's nothing. It feels like a long time but it's hard to tell, Harry is bleary from so much driving and the cold November air feels surreal on his skin after being stuck in the stuffy car and he's impatient, ringing again and pounding on the door with his fists and calling out, "Lou, Louis, open up, please, it's me," until finally he sees a blurry shape through the window, growing closer. Harry falls back and the door opens, and he almost sobs with relief when he sees Louis, looking small and pale with a tattered beanie of Harry's pulled over his head.
For a moment they just look at one another; Harry feels like his heart is bursting just seeing him again but Louis looks apprehensive, like he thinks Harry is going to yell at him. And then all Harry can do is fling himself over the threshold and envelop Louis in his arms, the collision of their bodies so forceful it almost hurts, and Harry buries his face into Louis's neck and inhales, smells something sharp and rich like alcohol.
"I'm sorry," says Louis into Harry's shoulder, his voice weak and a little slurred. "I'm so sorry. I was treating you like shit. I know that now, I just-"
"Shut up," says Harry fiercely, grasping him tighter, "just-don't, I don't even care-I was so fucking worried, you scared me to death-"
"I'm sorry," Louis says again, sounding choked.
"Don't," says Harry, clutching at him, breathing him in.
Louis nuzzles into Harry's shoulder, blurts another "Sorry," automatically and then laughs, fighting the urge to apologise, to apologise for apologising, and then Harry is laughing too and they're stumbling, limbs still locked around each other, swaying clumsily.
They part then, but only for a second before they're moving back in to kiss, and Louis's mouth tastes sour but it's him, it's them, and it's been five days, and Harry doesn't want to leave him for that long ever again. He presses him into the counter, kissing him deeply, probably too eager when there are still so many things left unresolved but it's so hard not to and Louis is melting right into it, relieved.
They notice, after a little while, that the door is still standing wide open and moths are beginning to flit into the kitchen. Harry shuts it and traipses after Louis into the living room, where a nearly-empty bottle of red wine stands on the coffee table next to Louis's iPod, headphones tangled and trailing onto the carpet, obviously torn out quickly. It makes Harry feel a little better to realise that Louis might not have been ignoring the phone or the doorbell after all, might just have been too lost in his head and his music until he heard Harry's voice shouting desperately for him.
They fall onto the sofa, cuddling close, Louis's fingers in Harry's hair, and for a while they don't speak again, just needing to catch up on the comfort of touching one another. Harry texts Liam, and Louis pretends not to know what he's doing, obviously feeling guilty and a little embarrassed to think about how much he must have worried everyone by disappearing like that. Harry puts his phone away again and pulls Louis's head into his lap, lets him lie sideways across the sofa.
And then Louis says, in a broken voice, "It's all over, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean-I knew it would be, eventually, I knew it would have to end but I just-I didn't want it to be so soon, it feels like-it feels like we were only just getting started."
"Lou, what are you talking about?" Harry asks. Louis's like this when he's drunk, bad at stringing thoughts together and worse still with sentences, expecting everybody to catch his drift anyway.
"I mean, they're not even letting us do an interview or anything, not letting us explain-it's like that statement is just...the end of things. Like okay, you win."
And now Harry does know what he means; was thinking the exact same thing himself. The way management has handled everything has been such a mess, and Harry knew that all along, but it seems even clearer now that the truth has finally come out. If they'd let them be honest in the first place, it might not have been so bad. Louis wouldn't have been shunned for being a cheater on top of everything, and neither of them would have had to keep on lying. It seems like it'll be so much harder, now, to win back the fans' trust-what reason will they have to believe them now, after all that's happened? They still haven't heard Harry and Louis's story, not really, just official statements and other people's opinions and a tale fed to them by big bosses who think they're doing the right thing and just aren't.
Harry strokes Louis's cheek gently, trailing his fingers over his skin. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to reassure Louis when he has the exact same fears.
"And I just-I know I shouldn't have just vanished like that but I don't think anyone gets it," Louis says then, and it kind of bursts out of him like he's been dying to talk about this for a long time but couldn't find the words until now. "I haven't-I haven't had a say in any of this. It's not like I never wanted it to happen but I wanted it to be on my terms and it's just, it's on everybody else's, and everyone's making all these judgements and decisions and I feel trapped 'cause I can't do anything but go along with it and it's just-it's fucking exhausting, Haz." His voice goes from harsh to soft and helpless, and Harry cradles him closer.
"I know." And that guilt is still there, that reminder that he started all of this off, and he's about to tell Louis again just how sorry he is, but it's like Louis's reading his mind.
"I'm not even mad at you anymore," Louis says, "because I get it now, I get why you did it-you felt like this, like I do now, sick of everybody making your choices for you and taking away that control, and I didn't get it before but it makes sense now and I can't blame you anymore."
"You can," says Harry, smiling a little, "if you want. If it'll make things easier."
"It doesn't, though," Louis says seriously. "Me blaming you was turning everything to shit."
It feels like Louis is being entirely honest with him now, and Harry hope it's not just the alcohol, hopes this is really how Louis feels. It's rare for him to open up like this, to say what he's feeling without hiding behind jokes or lashing out. And when it happens Harry has to be quiet, let it all come from Louis, not push him at all and try and keep it light so that Louis feels he can stop easily when he needs to. He has to leave it up to Louis, how much he's willing to say.
And clearly Louis has reached that point now, because he rolls over, burying his nose in Harry's sweater for a moment, and then says, "Liam punched someone. Did he tell you?"
Harry lets out a surprised bark of laughter at the subject change, and something in it is relief as well, he thinks-it's good for him and Louis to talk this out, but it almost feels better to laugh with him again. "No," he says. "Who did he punch?"
"It's probably going to be in the papers," says Louis, not terribly helpfully. "Did you hear about it?"
"No, Lou," Harry tells him patiently. "Hence the question."
"This paparazzo thought I was cheating on you with him. With Liam. So Liam gave him what for."
"Are you having me on?" Harry asks suspiciously, trying to imagine Liam doing such a thing and really, really struggling.
Louis shakes his head. "Uh-uh. It was pretty impressive actually. I wanna see the pictures." He yawns against Harry's stomach, and Harry gazes down at him, seeing how his eyes are beginning to droop.
"You sleepy?"
"Mm."
"Do you wanna go to bed?"
"No," says Louis, stretching a little and then curling up again. "I wanna sleep here."
And Harry is sitting up, and still in his shoes and coat, and he hasn't eaten anything in hours, and he feels like he's still moving from spending so much time in the car-but then he looks around them, at the bungalow living room in the dim light, the familiar shapes and patterns of it, and he doesn't try and argue. He remembers that the very first time he slept beside Louis it was right here in this room, on pushed-together airbeds, with Zayn's knee digging into his back and Niall sleep-cuddling Louis from his other side while Liam was a little way away from them, trying to keep his limbs to himself, still not yet used to the easy affection of the group. And Harry and Louis had faced each other in the dark, silent and staring and smiling until they'd drifted off, and somehow Harry had known, even back then, that it was the first time of so, so many.
"Okay," says Harry quietly, "let's sleep here," and when he looks down Louis's eyes are already closed, his lips slightly parted, his face looking truly peaceful for the first time in weeks. Harry smiles to himself and leans his head against the back of the sofa, reaching out a hand to rest on Louis's chest and feel the soft thud of his heartbeat against his palm.
***
Louis wakes up with Harry gazing down at him, and he startles. "Oi," he grumbles, "you always watch me when I'm sleeping, it's creepy."
"You're moving too fast the rest of the time," Harry says, grinning. "When you're asleep is one of the rare chances I get."
Louis makes a face at him and then rolls over. His brain feels like it's trying to get out of his skull. He groans. "Fuck, my head hurts."
"You drank a lot," Harry says, but without judgement. "My neck hurts," he adds, bringing a hand up to rub at it as he rolls his head back and forth, grimacing.
"Sorry," says Louis guiltily.
"No, no more apologies."
"None? What, ever? What if I set the bungalow on fire while I'm making you breakfast?"
Harry's lips curl into a smile. "You're gonna make me breakfast?"
"I'm gonna try," says Louis, and then remembers that it's highly unlikely that there are any eggs or bacon in the house. "...Maybe just cereal."
"Not much fire involved there," Harry teases him, and then prods him in the cheek. "Get up, I think my entire lap's gone numb."
They spend the day just relaxing, reconnecting. There isn't much food in the house, just a couple of old ready meals in the freezer and some tins in the pantry, but neither of them want to walk down to the corner shop-it feels so good to finally be alone, away from everything, just the two of them in their own little world without all the chaos. Louis finds that he doesn't even want to check the internet to find out the reaction to management's statement; he just doesn't want to know. A part of him wishes they could just stay here for a few months, living off tomato soup and frozen lasagne and Robin's wine until everything dies down.
They shower together and have a nap in the afternoon, neither of them very well-rested after last night. During the day they keep the conversation light but in the evening Harry asks Louis what he wants the plan to be, when he wants to leave, reminds him gently that they can't stay here forever.
"I was thinking maybe we should insist on doing an interview or something," Harry suggests, and Louis can tell he's being very casual with the idea, not wanting to make Louis feel like he's pushing him into it. "Just like, get the whole story out there, show everybody our perspective. Our version of events."
Louis smiles. He actually likes that idea, a lot. He doesn't know if they'll be allowed, but he definitely wants to try, because it's not fair, the idea of them never being allowed to explain this in their own words. And what's it going to be like at the signing they've got coming up, if they still haven't said anything for themselves? The thought makes the anxiety flare up again, as he imagines streams of fans demanding answers to their questions.
They talk about it, decide that they want the others to be there with them to give their side of the story as well, and that it'd be best to talk to a gay magazine to make sure they're portrayed sympathetically. Louis already feels so much better just discussing it, because it feels like they're finally doing something at last, taking things into their own hands, and it feels like they might be able to salvage this after all.
It's late by the time the conversation winds down and so they go to bed, deciding to call PR in the morning, and tonight they go into the bedroom, remind themselves just how happy they can make each other and how well they know each other's bodies. It's been so long since they've touched like this; ever since everything blew up it's been a desperate thing, for comfort and reassurance or simple distraction, or even a way to work out their anger and the tension between them. It hasn't been like this, slow and content, like they have all the time in the world.
In the morning Harry calls their nicest publicist, Pippa, and explains what they want while Louis sits beside him and listens with his head on his shoulder. Harry is very mature and sensible with it, not letting himself get too emotional in case that means he'll be taken less seriously-but he does tell her quite honestly how much damage he thinks management's approach could do in the long run, and the problems it's already caused. Pippa is sympathetic and says she'll see what she can do, and Harry makes it clear that if the answer is no, they may well go ahead and do it anyway. Louis smiles at him, surprised, when he says that, proud of Harry's courage and determination, and it works. It works. Pippa calls them back to tell them there's an interview set up with Attitude magazine in a few days, and tells them wryly that they'd better come back to London in time for it.
They leave the bungalow then, ready to face the world again, and drive back home singing along to the radio and stopping at a KFC for lunch. The services are mostly empty and Louis feels safe taking Harry's hand as they walk in, and he forces himself to fight the urge to let go when people look at them, tries to stare them down defiantly the way Harry does with such ease. A couple of people ask for photos-one of them doesn't even mention any of the recent drama and the other just says quietly that she's so sorry for what they've been going through lately.
"Guess that statement can't have been too awful," Harry laughs as they head back to the car.
"They're probably all just relieved I'm not really a cheater," Louis chuckles.
Back at the flats, they go over to Zayn's for a movie night with the others, and it feels better than it should, perhaps, for something so simple and familiar. The five of them drink beer (even Liam has a little) and sprawl all over each other and don't talk about anything serious whatsoever, and it just feels so good. Louis has this urge to thank Zayn and Liam and Niall, for standing by him and Harry in constant quiet support and always being there when they're needed, but he doesn't want to say it out loud, doesn't want to turn the situation too serious when it's so relaxed. He thinks that this is enough anyway, this return to their own version of normality. They've been too caught up in the turmoil of everything else to even realise how much they've missed it, but they're eager for it now, melting into each other on Zayn's sofa, their reunion somehow frantic and peaceful at the same time.
***
The interview goes even better than Harry expected. The journalist, Dave, is close to their age, friendly and understanding, and he's followed the story so far so he knows what he's talking about. He doesn't pry, but he doesn't shy away from any of the important questions, and he gives them plenty of time to speak and to steer the conversation when they want to.
"First things first then, lads," he says as they settle on the sofa in front of him, "how long have you been together?"
Harry reaches out and take Louis's hand. "Pretty much since we were on X Factor," he says, interlocking their fingers, and Louis gives him a little grateful squeeze, the physical contact making him relax a bit more. "Like, not officially," Harry adds, "but that's when things kind of started. We always say we've basically been together since we met, in one way or another."
"Love at first sight?" smiles Dave.
Louis groans. "Don't put it like that, it'll sound so soppy."
"It is soppy," interjects Liam. The others are all sitting round a table on the other side of the room, getting on with their own stuff, mostly just here for moral support.
"You were all over each other from day one," Niall chips in.
"Bringing them was a mistake," Louis mutters to Harry, but he's kidding, grinning away.
Dave tries to get things back on track, but he's clearly kind of charmed by them all. "So it was a management decision to have you appear with girlfriends, right?"
Louis nods, shifting uncomfortably. Harry knows before he answers that he's going to be a little evasive here-he hasn't spoken to Eleanor since she announced the truth, and even though it's turning out to have been a good move, Louis still hasn't forgiven her just yet. Harry's not sure if he will. The two of them were good friends, but Harry couldn't really imagine them hanging out under different circumstances.
"Yeah," says Louis. "I mean, we're not going to put all the blame on our management, that wouldn't be fair, 'cause weren't actually forced into anything. We agreed to go along with it because we were told it was best for our career. I wasn't happy about it-I hated having to lie to everybody-but El and I got on well and it just seemed...necessary, I guess." He's gone a little solemn, and there's a slight pause. Then he nudges Harry with his elbow and adds, "Harry put up a bit more of a fight though."
Harry laughs, not minding that Louis wants to take the pressure off himself for a moment. "Yeah, they mostly just had to vaguely link me with women in the tabloids," he says, "I was less willing to actually date them."
"He's a rebel," Zayn jokes.
"But there was one woman," says Dave, "I'm sorry, you must have thought this was all in the past now, but I'm sure everybody's dying to know-what about Caroline Flack?"
Harry smiles. He was expecting her name to come up. "We were just really good friends," he says, and the boys all hoot with laughter hearing him say that sentence for what feels like the hundredth time, but in such a different context now. "People started misinterpreting our relationship, and it was decided that might not actually be a bad thing...for both of us, you know."
"Turned out better for you than her, though," Louis points out mischievously.
"Yeah, the reaction to that really made management nervous," says Harry, serious. "I don't think anyone expected the public to be so like...disrespectful about it, and it made us all think, if that's how they react to this, how would they react to the truth, you know?"
Dave nods, listening intently. They're not actually allowed to say too much about all the lies and cover-ups, because they've already exposed a lot about how the industry works and how dishonest it is, and management isn't exactly pleased about that. But it makes so much more sense to do it this way, at least as far as Harry is concerned, because it doesn't actually matter that much if management comes off badly. The supportive fans have had issues with them from the start anyway, and this way Harry and Louis's relationship is shown for exactly what it is: two people who just love each other, in an industry that won't allow it.
So Harry says, "There really is a lot going on under the surface, hidden from the public. And we don't want the fans to blame us, but we don't want them to turn against management either-like, this hasn't been handled in the best way-" Niall snorts and Harry shoots him a glare, but he can't help but smile; it feels so much better having the guys here to lighten the mood, "-but it's not any one person's fault. It's society's fault. And that's why it's so important to me that we really stand up and talk about this, because hardly anyone does, and nothing's going to change if we all keep quiet."
Dave nods vehemently at that. "Of course, absolutely," he agrees. "Would you say that you've been ready to come out for a long time? It seemed from that initial BBC Breakfast incident that the frustration had been building for a while."
"Yeah," says Harry. "Quite a while, yeah. It was kind of a problem, because it wasn't just that we weren't allowed to. Louis wasn't ready. And I never would've-like, if I'd been thinking, I never would've said anything, because the way I did it was just-"
"Dumb," Zayn cuts in helpfully.
"Thanks, Zayn," says Harry flatly, and the interviewer chuckles. "No, but it was pretty dumb. It was just the pressure of the whole situation, you know. We're under so much scrutiny that we had to make so much effort to hide, and that just..."
"It gets to you after a while," Louis says. "Like, I'm not gonna act like I was fine with it, but I do understand now. I mean, I was frustrated too. We couldn't even go out for dinner together without arriving and leaving separately, and hiding out in private rooms. We both felt really like, trapped. But Harry especially."
Dave nods. "And what's-if you don't mind me asking, how would you define your sexuality, Harry?"
"Uh," says Harry, "I kind of don't, really, but I guess if I had to put a label on it-and society kind of says that we have to-I'd say I'm pansexual."
"Except that no one knows what that means," Liam calls from the other side of the room, and Harry rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, I was told to say I'm bisexual just to make it easier to understand, but like-I think a lot of people do that, and it doesn't make much sense because no one ever will understand if no one talks about it."
"It's just attraction regardless of gender, right?" Dave checks.
Harry nods, and then turns to look at Liam. "See, Li, not that complicated." Liam makes a face at him.
"And...Louis?" says Dave. He says it in a way that suggests he kind of already knows, which Harry supposes makes sense-there's always been a bit of speculation, and rumours in the journalism world, and now that the truth about Eleanor has been revealed it seems like people are just kind of connecting the dots.
Louis nods, squeezing Harry's hand just slightly. "I'm gay, yeah," he says, looking Dave in the eye, and Harry's heart swells with pride at the bravery of it, hearing him say it to this stranger without missing a beat.
There's a brief moment of silence, and Harry expects Louis to make a joke or something but it's actually Dave who cuts the tension, saying "Me too!" and reaching out for a high-five, giving Louis a goofy grin. They all laugh and Harry can feel Louis relax beside him, hand going looser in his.
"Sorry. That was probably unprofessional," says Dave, still laughing, shaking his head. "Right," he checks his notepad, "and when did you both become aware of your sexual preference?"
"I just kind of always knew, really," says Harry with a shrug. "It's hard for me to like, pinpoint it, because I never had a moment of, you know, oh my god, I like boys, or...it was just kind of always there. I never had that big revelation."
"I did," says Louis quietly. "I pretty much had no idea 'til I met Harry. I just never questioned it."
Dave nods sympathetically. "Do you think that could be why you've struggled a little more?" he asks. "Sorry, if that's too much of a sensitive subject-"
"No, it's okay," says Louis, and Harry can't help but be surprised-the interviewer even gave him a way out and he chose not to take it. "I mean, yeah, definitely. I hadn't really had a lot of time to come to terms with it just like, in myself, and suddenly it was something we had to talk about with all our bosses, and I mean-of course there were a lot of sensible reasons behind their decisions but it always felt a bit like the subtext of it all was like, you know..."
"Like, 'your sexuality is a problem,'" Harry cuts in, seeing that Louis's not sure if he should say it. "Which is obviously gonna like, have an effect, if you've only just realised you're gay yourself, you know? I think a lot of people didn't really understand that. Like, people who sort of suspected all along or whatever, they just wanted Lou to come out-they wanted us both to come out. Which, I mean, I think that's fair in some ways, because it's frustrating to think you're being lied to, and in our like...age demographic or whatever, there really isn't enough representation of anyone who's not straight in the media."
"Very true," says Dave. "And, you've brought up something else I was going to ask about, there-a lot of your fans do feel like they knew, don't they? It's interesting, there was a lot of speculation long before anything came of it, and I hate to bring up 'Larry Stylinson' at this point, but-"
Louis laughs. "We knew it was coming."
"I'm predictable," Dave shrugs, grinning. "But did that help, at all, to know that so much of your fanbase supported your relationship? Even before they knew it was a relationship? Or did it all feel like a bit of a joke?"
"Kind of a combination of the two, really," says Harry. "Obviously it was better to have people talking about it positively than negatively, but yeah, we could never really tell how serious it was. We did come across some discussion on the internet between people who were absolutely convinced and that was-"
"Disconcerting," Liam cuts in, and Louis throws a cushion at him.
"But it was a good way to like, try and work out how people might react when we finally told the truth," Harry goes on. "It was so hard to tell, you know, beforehand. I mean, that's why management was so scared-the uncertainty combined with the level of our success, it could have been a total disaster."
"And how do you feel about the actual fan reaction?"
"Well, it hasn't been a total disaster," says Louis. He does seem to be slipping into jokes whenever he feels a little uncomfortable, Harry notices, but there isn't that undercurrent of bitterness or self-deprecation that there was before, it's just Louis being Louis and he's handling this all so brilliantly. Harry kind of just wants to kiss him right now and tell him how well he's doing, and he tries to quash that urge and listen to what Louis's saying instead. "It's been difficult. A lot of our fans are really young and just don't quite understand the whole issue, and..."
"And I suppose a lot of them believed they were going to birth your children one day," chuckles Dave. "But there's been support, right?"
"Yeah, definitely," says Harry. It seems right to take over from Louis here. Louis still hasn't had as much experience of the supportive fans as he has; he's mostly just seen Tweets and fanmail and Harry knows he finds that difficult to connect with. It's seeing someone's face that makes it real, hearing their voice. "Yeah, every time someone tells us what a difference we've made, like, that we've made them feel more comfortable with themselves, that's just-I mean, you can't beat that. That's the point, really, of everything."
"Harry gets emotional about it," Louis says conspiratorially to Dave, but Harry can tell he's just feeling a little uneasy with the topic, knowing how much more he's focused on the backlash than anything else.
"It's hard not to, to be fair," Liam adds, and they look over at him, see that he's turned around in his chair to listen now and talk to the interviewer. "I mean, I get emotional about it too sometimes. Like even just reading through the positive Tweets it's like-I don't know, I guess it's because the three of us have been with them from the start and seen their relationship grow, it's something that's so important to us and to see people accepting them and standing up for them is great." Dave nods, and there's a slight pause in which Liam looks sheepishly at Harry and Louis. "Sorry. I'm just hijacking your interview here."
"No, it's fine," says Dave. "I wanted to get a word from you lot, actually because you have kind of a unique perspective. You've been there from the start like you said, but you're also still outsiders at the same time."
"Yeah," says Niall. "It's been really difficult, because obviously all we've wanted is for them to be happy-"
"Awwwww, Niall," Louis coos, and Niall chucks the cushion Louis threw at Liam right back at him.
"-but there's been, you know, so much drama obviously."
"Yeah, it's just something we've had to be really aware of, like, constantly, you know-making sure it was kept secret, always keeping an eye out for cameras and stuff," Zayn joins in. Then he pauses for a moment, considering things. "Actually, it's gonna be such a relief not to have to do that anymore."
"I was thinking that," laughs Liam.
After the interview the five of them go out for a meal and drinks, to celebrate. They get a private room in the restaurant so that no one will bother them, and stay for hours, and Harry hasn't seen Louis this happy in such a long time. It's like a real weight has been lifted, he is free and relaxed and maybe it's just the alcohol and the high of finally telling the truth, but Harry feels like they can face anything now, like they can take on the world if they have to.
Their issue of Attitude comes out a few days before the signing, and it's so popular that by the time they sidle down to WH Smith to get a copy for themselves, they've all sold out. They bump into a girl on their way back who's just bought it, and she's reading as she walks, winding a jagged path down the pavement. When she spots them she's so startled and overcome that she looks like she might cry, holding back the tears while they sign the magazine for her.
It's just a small taste of what's to come-the signing is absolutely full of such occurrences. Louis says he thinks he's autographing more copies of Attitude than their album or DVD. There are still a lot of people who don't mention it, a few girls who are giggly to the point of seeming a little malicious and the occasional muttered insult, but Harry won't let it go ignored and-to his pride-the others don't either. He hears Zayn giving one girl a quiet talking-to, and even Liam, who usually has a constant beam plastered across his face during signings, staunchly refuses to sign a copy of the magazine that has rude commentary scribbled all over it.
So many people offer their support, though, and it's hard not to get emotional themselves when the boys come up to the table-more boys than they've ever had at any signing before-the shyer ones just giving grateful smiles, the more confident ones letting Harry and Louis know exactly how much they've helped them, made them feel like they're not alone. Harry squeezes Louis's hand, seeing how he's trying to keep his cool about the whole thing and be casual, but afterwards when they're back home he's dazed with it, overwhelmed. Harry is so thrilled that he finally sees, sees how wonderful this is, what a difference they've made. It doesn't mean it's going to be easy from here on out but it's getting better, so much better, and Harry's just glad that Louis knows that now, understands the good in this.
***
They hear through the grapevine that a significant number of people decided to sell on their MSG tickets after the news first broke. It's crushing, but apparently the tickets barely stayed on sale for any time at all, were all snatched up almost instantly until all the seats were filled again. Management has tried to keep it from them, not wanting them to be discouraged by the news, and that seems fair because Louis can't help but let it bother him-knowing how many people didn't even want to come see their concert anymore just because he and Harry are together. But he reminds himself that for every fan they've lost, they've probably gained a new one, and that the fans that have stayed with them are the ones who really matter.
"Don't want homophobes for fans, anyway," as Harry puts it. "I'd rather every single person in that arena is happy that I love you."
As they gear up for the concert, Louis gets more and more nervous. Harry keeps telling him to remember the signing and how well that went, but there's a difference-talking to the fans one-on-one is easier somehow than facing them in an enormous crowd, and he keeps having stupid anxiety dreams where they're greeted with booing instead of the usual cheering and screaming as soon as they step onto the stage.
He's still not completely comfortable with behaving like a couple with Harry in public, too-not because he's ashamed but because it just feels so strange, after so long of consciously hiding it, to be allowed to walk down the street holding hands and to know that they've already dealt with most of the fallout. Sometimes Harry will fumble with Louis's hand for a moment like he used to, when he'd reach for it in front of people and then catch himself, and sometimes Louis will flinch away on instinct, but they laugh about it, knowing it's simply habit. Louis still feels uneasy with the amount of focus that's on their relationship, though, the media talking freely about them as a couple now where only Sugarscape used to, and even then only when they could keep it hidden behind jokes.
And Harry gets carried away sometimes-well, they both do, they always have, but Harry is worse onstage, caught up in the adrenaline. Louis can't help but worry that he'll go further than Louis is comfortable with, and he wants to say something but he doesn't want to hurt Harry, doesn't want to say don't kiss me in front of everyone, okay? because it sounds so awful. He just hopes that they're on the same page instead, and Harry does seem a bit nervous too-they all are-because there's so much pressure anyway, this being the biggest concert they've ever done, on top of everything else.
There's another blow when they arrive at the venue on the night. They're on their way when Paul gets a call telling them to avoid the front of the building if they can, because there's a protest going on outside. Some Christian group, apparently, mostly older women who don't want anyone's teenage daughters (or sons, for that matter) going to see a boyband if two of its members are a couple. Harry just scoffs, staying strong.
"The fans'll be fighting back against those idiots as we speak," he says confidently. "I bet you anything."
Liam is worrying his bottom lip, peering out the window for the rest of the journey even though they're nowhere near yet, like he's on the lookout.
"Don't know what you're gonna do if you spot any stray protesters anyway, Li," says Zayn, nudging him in the ribs. "Spit your gum out at them?"
"And then apologise right away, most likely," Harry adds with a grin.
Louis laughs but it's feeble and he's distracted, thinking about how there's enough people who have a problem with his and Harry's relationship that they can form an entire protest about it, make signs and stand outside the arena for hours, trying to discourage people from going in. And what if it works? What if they scare everybody away?
Harry links fingers with him, and Louis nestles their hands together gratefully, but he can't make himself join in the conversation that Niall's starting in an attempt to take everyone's minds off the issue. When Louis is worried he goes quiet. He can yell or cry or fake enthusiasm if he's stressed or upset, but worry makes him just sink into himself, tune out, and the others all know that by now because it's one of the rare behaviours he has that's actually predictable.
They have to swing round the side of the building to get to the stage door, so they don't pass the entrance directly, but they can still see the crowds outside the front. Louis only catches a glimpse and then suddenly Harry's hand is over his eyes, and a part of him really wants to look but he trusts him, lets his eyelids close under Harry's palm as he takes a deep breath.
"Doesn't look that different to anywhere else we've played at," Harry says.
"Yeah, just looks like people queuing up waiting for the doors to open," Niall adds, trying to sound cheery.
"It's not, though," Louis says in a small voice, and as they turn the corner Harry takes his hand off Louis's face and snuggles into him, kissing his neck in reassurance.
Louis's not sure he's ever felt more on edge. It's even worse than before the interviews, because this feels like it's really make or break now. If they go out there and their audience rejects them, that's it. He's not sure they could ever recover from that. And before, he could tell himself those thoughts were ridiculous, but now, with a protest going on outside, it doesn't actually seem that implausible. It doesn't help that he can sense the others' unease, either. He kind of shuts down, all through soundcheck and while they're getting dressed-he goes through the motions but his brain's not there, knotted up with nerves, and whenever anyone tries to talk to him he just wants them to stop because he can't focus on what they're saying, too preoccupied with his anxiety.
By the time they're about to go on he's already half-convinced himself that they're going to be greeted by an empty stadium, and he's lost sight of whether that's a rational fear or not.
But then they get closer, and they hear that familiar sound, the excited screams of the fans waiting for them and counting down. They grin stupid relieved grins at each other and when Louis holds his breath and runs out onto the stage with the others, the joyful shrieking only gets louder. It makes him feel like his heart is going to burst; he's never been so happy to hear that ear-splitting noise.
There are usually banners about him and Harry but tonight it seems like the crowd is full of them. The silly Larry Stylinson ones mean so much now, and he feels suddenly overwhelmed at the realisation that so many of their fans have supported their relationship right from the start, that not all of them treated it as an amusing exaggeration, that some of these people knew even before they were told, and stood by them every step of the way.
He tries to gather himself together but it's a struggle, especially when they start singing. He can't focus on the lyrics because there's too much going on, out there in the crowd and right here in his head and his heart. He can't take his eyes off Harry, so caught up in this, in the openness of it, something he never imagined himself being able to fully enjoy. He keeps trying to look away from Harry, to sing out to the fans instead, but he can't help it and Harry is grinning like a fool and gazing right back at him. Niall makes a comment into his mic between songs about how everyone's just going to have to put up with the "lovesick puppies" and the crowd goes fucking wild.
They try to keep a bit of distance between them, though, more aware of their interactions than usual. Louis thinks of all the times they've whispered to each other onstage, exchanged subtle touches, that time Harry kissed him on the cheek in Brisbane in April, and he wonders how they could be so obvious when now it feels like these little glances are the most blatant thing in the world. But there's something about it, something about putting his love on display like this, that feels good-not just a relief, but a pleasure, as well. He loves Harry and he's proud of it, why shouldn't these people get to see that?
When they get to More Than This, Harry comes a little closer to him, hovers nearby as Louis's verse approaches. He's so hyperaware of Harry beside him that it's even harder to concentrate on singing and he's sure his voice is wavering. Harry ducks behind him and Louis tries to keep his voice under control, wondering what Harry's doing and why he's trying to distract him, especially during this solo which he always gets kind of insecure about anyway-and then he feels Harry's arms wrapping around him from behind. He does it just as Louis sings "...in his arms, I get weak," and then Louis can barely sing his next line at all, laughing, leaning back against the warm strong feel of Harry's body holding him. Harry's chin is hooked over his shoulder and Louis relaxes into his arms, not even caring if it looks like he's swooning. Zayn is so busy laughing at them that he almost misses the intro of his own verse.
After that, they can't really stop looking at each other, and Louis doesn't even let himself worry about what if every show is going to be like this from now on, what if they get too fixated on each other and the others get sidelined-because it doesn't matter right now, tonight is what matters, the freedom and the joy of it, nothing else.
They do Stole My Heart for the encore, which they're all a little unsure about because they don't usually play it live, but Harry breaks the tension when-to everyone's surprise-he changes the lyrics in his verse, sings "It took a minute, boy, to steal my heart tonight," with a knowing grin on his face. The audience goes crazy, frantically checking with each other, did he really say that? and Louis sees Liam throw up his hands but he can tell the whole despairing thing is an act-Liam's grinning just as wide as the rest of them.
"Been waiting for a boy like you," Harry sings, beaming, and he does it with every one of his verses, again and again, pointing at Louis and unable to wipe the smile off his face. It's almost too much but Louis can't help but love it, the ridiculous romance of it and the statement. He loves him so much it hurts. All the time, really, but especially right now. His heart feels too big for his body, hammering against his ribcage, and it's no longer just because of nerves.
The song comes to an end and the boys all slip into place in a row, arms around one another for their bow-but Louis feels like his heart is going to beat right out of him as soon as Harry's hand settles on his hip and he's dizzy and smitten and before he even really knows what he's doing he's pulling Harry into his arms. He means for it to be a hug, maybe, but somewhere along the way their lips meet and Harry makes a surprised little noise and smiles against his mouth and then that's it, they're kissing, in front of twenty thousand people. The boys are laughing and shaking their heads and the audience is screaming deafeningly and making sure they're getting this on their cameras, and Louis doesn't even care. Let it be all over Youtube by tomorrow morning. Fucking let it.
They break apart, stumbling a little, and Louis tries to recover from it but he can't, all he can do is stare at Harry's face, the way it's lit up like that, gorgeous and stunned and thrilled. Liam clears his throat, says something to the crowd that sounds like "Er, please excuse them," along with an awkward laugh. Louis finally manages to tear himself away from Harry in order to pounce on Liam, tickling him and making him squeak into his mic and then drop it on the floor when the others join them instantly in a clumsy group hug, limbs everywhere.
Over all the noise around them, Louis hears Zayn say, "You idiots."
And maybe he has a point, because okay, they might be out now, but they're not sure how public their displays of affection are actually allowed to be and you can't get much more public than this. Zayn's voice is fond, though, and Niall is ruffling Harry's hair, and Louis hears himself force out, "Couldn't help it," as he pulls Harry closer.
They cling to each other, and their tight huddle seems so small, centre stage in this vast stadium, just five boys feeling like they're being watched by the whole world. They can't ignore the crowd; that constant screaming always demands to be heard. It's a sound that's followed them for more than two years, but Louis doesn't think it's ever symbolised support quite as much as it does right now. He buries his face in Harry's neck, his cheeks flushed hot as he tries to hide his smile.
And then he realises there's no reason to hide it. He can show everybody just how happy he is, without shame, and maybe they've still got hard times ahead of them but-here, in this moment? There's just blissful relief.
End. (Psst, fanmix.)