(Harry’s POV)
Happiness only lasted a day, but I suppose we should have seen it coming. I’d carried Lou off the stage, his legs wrapped around my waist like always and I’d had quite the déjà vu moment, thinking back to X Factor. The boys had laughed and cheered with us once we got backstage, Louis kissing me repeatedly in between our laughter and ‘I love you’s, trying not to trip over Niall who was absolutely ragingly happy.
Paul had found us and raised an eyebrow. “You know you’re going to get it from Simon, right?” He’d asked, and we’d looked at each other nervously. “Yeah. We know. Worth it, though.” Louis had said, grinning and pecking me on the lips. “Congrats you guys.” Paul had chuckled, and I had finally put him down so we could leave.
As soon as we got in the car, our phones had been handed to us and they were vibrating nonstop, management calling and texting, all our parents and siblings, all our friends including Ed himself, and just about everyone involved in our team. Apparently videos and pictures were already everywhere online, trending on twitter and crashing tumblr.
Louis and I had looked at each other, shocked, but nodded. We knew what we’d done. It was the right decision.
Right?
That night we were both giddy, ignoring the boys’ requests for celebration, and we’d gone back to our flat and stripped each other of our clothing, eager for any type of reassurance that we didn’t just ruin everything. After all, we had each other, and Louis didn’t let me forget it as we made love, biting marks into my collar bone as I whispered promises in his ear.
But we were awoken this morning to a fierce knocking on our door and I’d just pulled one of the bed sheets around myself to open it, Louis still half asleep and groggy.
Niall, Liam and Zayn had stood there looking grave. “Lemme guess, management’s pissed, Simon’s driving out earlier and we’re all around fucked.” I’d guessed in a deadpan voice. “Yep.” Liam had muttered. “Great. Let me go wake up my naked boyfriend and we’ll go.” I’d mumbled angrily, padding back down the little hall and leaving them to make some toast.
We’d gotten in the car half an hour later, no shower, barely any food and a warning from Paul of “Just remember you have each other.” Unfortunately, that did us little good, as the glares had begun the second we entered the building. I’d shrunk into Louis as he tried to shrink into me, and we’d ended up just holding each other as we were led down the hall to a conference room.
And now here we were, being pushed through the doors to face a few management people that included Sasha and Marshall, and a very angry looking Simon. Shit balls. We sit down, Louis bravely sitting on my lap, and Niall to our left and Zayn and Liam to our right.
“Well.” Simon starts, sighing. Oh, we’re fucked. “We need to discuss some things, obviously.”
“Damn right we do.” Marshall sneers, and just like that, it goes to hell.
“Shut up, you! You’re an asshole!” Niall defends us, and if I wasn’t so furious, I would have hugged him.
“And you’re idiots! You’ve ruined your image, and you’re all going to fail as a band!” Marshall shouts, and I feel Louis flinch against me. That’s my cue.
“Like you’d know! You’re as good as fired!” I say loudly, anger seeping through.
“Oh, sure, because-”
“Shut up!” Simon yells, and the room goes deathly silent. “Do you boys even know what you’ve done? I’m all for you being in a happy relationship but it never should have gotten out.”
“Who cares? They love each other, they deserve to be happy.” Zayn says smoothly, his brooding look never leaving his face.
“If they want to be public, they can.” Liam adds.
“No, they bloody well can’t!” Marshall says, grey eyes going cold.
“Shut up and stay out of this!” Louis shouts at him, voice cracking with severity. It’s the first time he’s spoken and my arms snake around his waist protectively.
“Shhh.” I soothe into the back of his neck and he shivers, relaxing a little.
“Look,” Simon starts, and we take in a collective breath. “The world doesn’t think the way you guys do. They aren’t accepting. You know that half your fans are tweens and their parents won’t approve of you. They’ll believe that you could be a bad influence and that’s the last thing we want.”
“We’re not a bad influence! It’s 20-fucking-12, they need to get over it! So what, we’re two guys, what’s the big deal?” I say, my voice straining with frustration.
“Like I said, the world doesn’t think that way. We need to keep your image wholesome, fun and cute, like we’ve been doing since day one. Having two of you not straight, let alone in a relationship, is not a part of that. It can’t happen, and I’m sorry.” Simon tells us, running a hand through his hair stressfully.
“Actually, I’m not straight either.” Zayn adds, and I swear, if I could tackle him in a hug, I would. Simon sighs.
“Look boys,” Sasha says too softly. “we can make this go away, hopefully. We’ll set up an interview and you can say that it was just between friends, that you were joking.”
“No, we will not be doing that.” Louis says adamantly.
“No.” I add firmly.
“There’s no damn way we could pull that off, even if we wanted to. They kissed on stage, and Liam confirmed it. They can’t take it back.” Niall chimes in, eyebrows firmly furrowed.
“Well Liam, thanks for screwing everything over.” Some management guy says and Marshall nods with a laugh.
“Ugh, everyone stop being so condescending! We’re a couple, we’re out, we’re proud, let it fucking slide, would you?” I say angrily, and Liam puts a hand on my arm as a half ‘thank you’, half ‘calm down’.
“Your image is ruined. You, as a band, will tank, okay?” That other asshole management guy says. “Do you want to be responsible for that? Ruining your career, each other’s careers, all your friends’ careers? Hmm?”
The room goes deathly silent.
“We…we’re not doing that.” Louis says as if he’s trying to convince himself.
“Of course we’re not, babe.” I assure him, even though I don’t believe it myself.
“Babe.” Marshall mocks sarcastically and then Niall’s out of his seat, storming around the table, but doesn’t get far as Zayn literally holds him back.
“You know what, I’d like to speak to Harry and Louis alone, okay? Everyone else out. Now.” Simon orders and I feel a little cold because oh god he sounds determined. He may be a sweet man, but he is in charge.
The boys seemingly don’t want to leave, but Louis nods at them, tightening his hold on my hand. They, along with Marshall, Sasha, and who I’ve now dubbed as Fucking Asshole leave the room, shutting the door loudly on the way out.
We look back to Simon, who shakes his head with another sigh.
“To be honest boys, I knew this would happen eventually. I knew what I was doing, putting you guys together. At first I just knew you’d get along. But each week you got closer and closer in your video diaries, close to kissing and soon you were cuddling back stage and from what I heard, sharing beds in the house. I knew then that eventually, you’d be together. It was a matter of time.” Simon says, going all papa bear on us.
We smile a little, and Louis snuggles further into my chest.
“That being said, this can’t happen.” He says and our grins drop. “Be happy, but do it out of the public eye. You can’t do this to the boys. I know your management were right dicks about it, but it’s true. Your careers will be ruined. It won’t happen all at once, but slowly your fans will dwindle out. And if this band were just the two of you, I’d let you make your choice. But it’s not, and you have to consider the others.”
"The others are okay with it…" Louis says, once again sounding unsure.
"Ah, but are they? Put yourself in their shoes. What if, I don’t know, Liam and Niall were in a relationship, and you knew it could ruin the band. Would you say anything?" Simon asks, and we’re silent. "No, you wouldn’t. Because it could hurt them."
"But…" I trail off. He’s right and I know it.
"Think about them. Think about Niall, who so faithfully defended you. And Liam who stood up for you and Zayn who just outed himself to us for you. How would you feel if they lost their chance at further success because of you?" Simon goes on, and I feel Louis slump against me.
"He’s right, isn’t he?" Lou asks, deadpan. I want to say no, I want to let us be happy, I want IwantIwantIwant.
"Yes." I sigh, burying my forehead in his feathery hair.
"I am. I hate that I am, but…." Simon sighs, sending us a kind smile. "Look, boys. I’m happy for you. You’re great together and I knew it from the start. But we have to do what we have to do. It’s the rules of success. The rules of boy band success. No scandals. This is beyond a scandal.”
"So what do we do?" I ask, hating to give in. But we have to. We can’t hurt the others, we just can’t.
"We’ll set up an interview. You’ll cut down the bromance moments, sit on opposite sides of a couch and deny it till you’re blue in the face." Simon explains, a sad look on his face.
"What do we say?" Louis questions, and I twiddle our fingers together.
"That you got carried away. That you were goofing off and you kissed for the hell of it. For a rise out of the crowd, for fun, whatever. Just make it believable." Simon explains, standing up to walk closer and sit himself on the table a foot away.
"It’s not going to be very believable. He serenaded me and I kissed him." Louis mumbles, turning into my chest and inhaling slowly.
"Yeah. Nice song choice by the way." Simon smiles, and I can’t help but chuckle along with Louis.
"Suits us, yeah?" I mutter into my boyfriend’s hair and he nods.
"I’ll say. Anyways, I’m sorry we have to do this. I’m sorry we live in this world and I’m sorry that people are judgmental. If it’s any help, I’ll be behind you through everything. If I need to make a statement, I will. Don’t forget that I want you guys, all of you, to be as happy and successful as possible." Simon says, and we nod.
But I’m close to crying, holding it back in hopes of being strong for Lou, in hopes of not looking stupid, in hopes of…I don’t even know, but I’m going to break very soon.
"Thanks, Uncle Si." Louis teases, but there’s no light behind it.
I hate that.
*****************************
(Louis’ POV)
“So?” Niall asks, as soon as we’re in the limo. Paul is there with us, seemingly just as invested in this as the others. Liam has been sending us concerned glances since we’d left the room, not holding hands anymore. Zayn I think has already figured out the answer.
“As far as the public knows, we’re just friends.” Harry mutters, and I feel the familiar prick of tears.
“What!? They can’t do that!” Niall nearly shouts, and Paul slumps in his seat.
“They can and they have.” I say, but my voice is thick with oncoming emotions and Harry turns to me.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
Right. Cause I could be okay in this moment. I’d finally been happy. Finally felt loved by the fans, finally felt that it was okay for me to like guys, okay for me to love Harry. It had been okay. And then it wasn’t, it completely wasn’t and suddenly a sob is rising in my throat.
I shake my head, a whimper escaping me before Harry pulls me close, and I bury my face in his neck as a sob finally breaks free, strangled and hurt. I can’t do this, I can’t. Harry’s rubbing circles on my back with one hand, the other rubbing my sensitive spot behind my ear but it’s all wrong because this is all fucking ridiculous.
I feel him shake and I realize he’s trying not to cry too. But no, I’m sick of that, sick of hiding things, hiding us, hiding this, hiding emotions, hiding tears. “Cry. It’s okay.” I whisper into his neck and I feel him exhale shakily and then he’s crying too, because what the fuck is normal anymore.
“This is bullshit. Complete bullshit.” Liam mutters, sliding closer to put a hand on my arm, Daddy Direction coming through.
“It’s not.” I sniff, craning my head to look through teary eyes.
“It is.” Liam argues firmly.
“No. No, this would ruin everyone’s careers. I can’t…we can’t do that to you. You guys deserve everything, and we never want to take it away from you. So even if we had a choice, which we really don’t, we’d probably still be doing this. The world isn’t ready for a gay couple in a boy band, it’s just society’s rules.” Harry explains, and I nod along with him because I don’t want it to be, but it’s true.
“What?” Zayn asks, ludicrous expression on his face. “That’s nonsense, it wouldn’t ruin our careers!”
“It would. Simon’s setting up and interview and we’re denying it. It’s done, stop arguing.” I mutter coldly, turning back into Harry’s chest.
“I…” Niall trails off, confused.
“I said drop it.” I growl.
And they do.
And then we get back to the flat, and Harry locks the door and we just fall onto his bed, laying beside each other as dull light streams in the window and the light rain pitter-patters against it.
When a sob finally escapes me, Harry reaches out and pulls me close, our foreheads touching as we cry together, both heartbroken. It’s stupid and daft and pathetic but his green eyes are damp as I stare into them, stroking his cheek with my thumb over and over like a promise that won’t come true.
His hands find my hips and run over the newly healing scars there, again and again until they start to sting but I never look away from his eyes and I never say a word because it’s one of those silences you can’t break.
My eyes flutter closed eventually and when Harry leans in and connects our lips, I don’t hesitate to pull him as close as possible, wanting to meld us into one person and never have to deal with anything ever again and god why does the world fucking hate us, I can’t deal with it and Harry’s biting my lip and oh, I’m crying. Sobbing into our kisses and oh, so is Harry.
Eventually we fall back onto the pillows, noses brushing as we cry, sadness just overwhelming us.
“I have something to tell you.” I whisper, and he nods, looking more innocent than I’ve ever seen. God, his gorgeous eyes.
“Okay.” He breathes.
“It doesn’t work anymore.” I admit, my hands running up and down his hitching chest slowly.
“What doesn’t?” He questions, still quiet.
“Hurting myself. I didn’t tell you, but when I did it the other night, it wasn’t the same. I didn’t go numb like I usually do. It just got worse, and there was more hurt and emotions and all that bullshit and all I could think was that I was betraying you.” I say slowly, and Harry’s fingers once again ghost over the pink slices on my hips.
“Really? Do you know what changed?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, and was that hope in his eyes?
“Yeah.” I smile, sniffling. “You did, Hazza. Self harm used to be my rock. It used to be who I turned to. It used to be who I loved and needed like air.”
“Used to be?” He asks bottom lip quivering.
“Mhm. You are now. You’re my everything. There’s no room left for it.” I half-sob.
He smiles, tearing up all over again and surges forward to connect our lips, over and over, breathlessly like we had the first time, like it was the first time.
“I hate this.” Harry says.
“I know.” I agree, because what the hell else can I say.
“I hate the world.” He whispers angrily, kissing up and down my neck.
“But you don’t hate the world, do you?” I ask knowingly.
Blue meets green again.
“No. Not really.”